Chapter Four

Wyatt was standing in line behind an elderly lady purchasing fabrics. Gill had sent him to the mercantile while he'd gone down to the apothecary to get the medicine they'd ordered for Preston. Wyatt had to give the store clerk the long list of supplies Gill and Jeb needed and help load up what was on hand.

He was smiling and tapping his finger on his thighs, feeling a bit better about things now that he'd had his worry about the stranger taken care of. Zachariah didn't pose a threat and for that, Wyatt was grateful. His family had had enough threats.

A chill ran down his spine and Wyatt's fingers still instantly. In his peripheral vision, Wyatt saw the five men enter the mercantile. They were sneering, chuckling and nudging one another as they approached him. Why did men like them always seem to find him?

He'd known they'd been watching him since he'd come into town but he'd hoped that watching and chuckling from a distance was all they'd do... apparently his hopes were pointless.

"What ya doin' there, little negro?" the man who appeared to be ringleader of the group drawled.

Wyatt simply kept his gaze straight forward and did his best to ignore them. The store clerk cleared his throat while the elderly woman gathered up her supplies and quickly made her exit.

"Can I help you, Wyatt?" Edgar Thompson asked from behind the counter.

Wyatt nodded and fished the supply list from his pocket before laying it on the counter. "What's the matter, negro?" the ringleader cackled. "Cat got your tongue? We saw you outside gesturing and such with your negro friend. Did your mama drop you on your head as a child and rattle your brain?"

"I don't want any trouble, gentleman," Edgar warned. "Why don't you get what you came in here for and leave?"

The ringleader spat on the wooden floorboards while the others chuckled. "I came in here to teach a negro his place. He ain't got no right to be walking around town in broad daylight."

Wyatt bristled but said nothing. He wasn't afraid of fighting back but what was the point? He tapped the list to get Edgar's attention and then pointed to the watch hooked to his belt.

"Okay. I'll see about getting these things from the back. You gonna be okay, Wyatt?"

Wyatt nodded and the ringleaders arm was suddenly around his shoulders. "He'll be just fine."

Wyatt waved Edgar away and the man hesitantly walked through the door to the supply room, shaking his head as he went. "I got a problem with the way you look, negro," Gus stated once the older man was gone.

Wyatt pulled away from the man and glared at him. 'Leave me alone.'

The ringleader laughed. "What was that? Speak up, boy!" He shoved Wyatt hard. "I think a cat may have his tongue."

Wyatt had had enough. He had been shoved around enough in his life and nothing got under his skin quicker. Without warning, he swung his arm hard and caught the ringleader sharply in the jaw.

The man stumbled back, anger flashed in his blue eyes and he snarled. "Hold him boys!"

Wyatt attempted to fight but two of the men rushed forward and grabbed his arms. Wyatt found himself unable to move as he glared at the man with blood dripping from his split lip.

"I'm about to kill me a negro," he snapped, pulling a knife from his belt. "I hate negros."

"What about injuns, Gus?" a familiar voice asked. "How do you feel about us?"

The ringleader turned quickly at the sound of Zachariah's voice. "What the hell are you doin' here, bounty hunter?"

Zachariah shrugged his broad shoulders. "Fixin' to kill me a bastard. What are you doing?"

Despite the hands squeezing bruises into his arms, and the knife still clutched tightly in Gus' hand, Wyatt laughed silently at Zachariah's statement. The scarred Indian's eyes landed on him and Wyatt felt himself tremble. He'd never been looked at quite like that before.

Then, just as quickly, Zachariah looked away. "Put the knife away, Gus, and leave this man be."

"That was always your biggest problem," Gus spat, swiping blood from the lip that Wyatt had busted. "You never could resist a charity case."

"Must be why I always seem to be bumping into you," Zachariah agreed. "You got an ass that's just begging to be kicked."

Wyatt tensed when Gus suddenly lunged forward with the knife. He swung at Zachariah but Zachariah appeared almost bored as he twisted out of the way, grabbed Gus by the back of the shirt and tossed him, sending him careening into a barrel of dried fruit.

The two men not holding Wyatt went after Zachariah and Wyatt knew he needed to get free and help the man. He stomped down hard on one captor's foot and as the man yelled in shock and loosened his hold, Wyatt yanked his right arm free and swung, catching the second man in the temple.

The mercantile quickly erupted in chaos. Wyatt spun and kicked the hopping man in the gut, sending him careening backward. The man Wyatt had hit in the temple, recovered from the blow and swung.

Wyatt attempted to dodge the hit but it caught him in the ear and he went sideways. Before he could recover, Wyatt was tackled to the ground and pinned by the angry man.

His heart sped up when Gus suddenly appeared over him, holding that knife and grinning. Wyatt shot a glance at Zachariah but the other man was currently preoccupied with three combatants of his own.

Gus sneered. "Hold him good and tight, LeRoy. It's time to get to dying."

"If you insist."

Wyatt's head whipped around at the sound of Gill's voice. Before Gus had time to react, Gill grabbed him up by the back of his vest, hauled him to his feet, slammed him against the counter and broke a jar of pickled beets across his head.

Gus slumped unconscious to the floor. The man pinning Wyatt was distracted by the scene and Wyatt used that to his advantage. He surged his body upward and tossed the man off before scrambling to his feet and kicking him hard in the ribs.

One of the men currently battling Zachariah, came flying backward after a particularly hard punch and slammed into Gill who went stumbling forward and slammed his face against a post.

"Son of a bitch!" Gill growled, his nose bleeding.

The fight continued for several long moments. Punches, kicks, tosses and curses. Finally Gus hauled himself to his feet and stumbled toward the door, holding his head. "Come on, boys... let's get the hell out of here."

"Good idea," Zachariah growled, a bruise forming beneath the scars on his cheekbone.

Gus paused at the door and Wyatt pulled his shot gun, keeping a steady aim on the staggering man's chest. If he made a move to attack again, Wyatt was done using fists and feet.

"Don't you worry, bounty hunter," Gus sneered. "We'll meet again and finish this when you don't have your little negro friends to save you."

Wyatt holstered his shot gun once the gang of men left the mercantile. Edgar came in from the back and began stuttering as he gazed around. Wyatt sheepishly grinned as he realized the mess they'd made. The broken jar of pickled beets had filled the mercantile with the overpowering scent of vinegar. The barrel of dried fruit had been knocked over and countless other pieces of merchandise had been strewn about.

"Sorry about the mess," Zachariah offered.

"Did that man call you a bounty hunter?" Gill's voice was tense as he spoke.

Wyatt realized that Zachariah was hardly paying Gill any mind as he walked toward Wyatt. "Yeah, that's right," he muttered.

Wyatt swallowed hard and his knees shook when Zachariah reached out a hand and ran his finger over his welted cheek. "You okay, Wyatt?" he asked.

Somehow Wyatt managed a nod. He stared at Zachariah's scarred and rugged face and wondered what the hell was going on. He'd never felt this kind of attraction toward anyone in his life..... he'd thought he never would.

Wyatt was staring into those storm gray eyes and trying hard to read them. Zachariah opened his mouth to speak but was silenced when Gill stepped behind him and brought his revolver down hard on the back of Zachariah's head.

The man fell to the ground in an unconscious heap and Wyatt's eyes widened. He shook his head. 'Why did you do that?!' he yelled silently. Curses flew from his mouth in a flurry as he demanded answers from Gill who simply shook his head.

"I can't understand a word you say when you get upset, Wyatt," he reminded him. Wyatt's mouth slammed shut. Damn his inability to speak! Damn everyone else's inability to understand him!

Wyatt pointed to Zachariah and then he looked at Gill and shrugged. 'Why?'

Gill sighed as he holstered his gun. "He's a bounty hunter, Wyatt. And you did find him on our land. I think it would be in our best interest to find out for sure what he's doing here.... I'm no longer satisfied with the answer he gave us earlier."

Wyatt just shook his head again. Zachariah had helped him.....

He looked at Gill as the man pulled a bandana from his pocket and cleaned blood from his face. "Let's get him to the house, Wyatt. I'd say he'll be angry when he wakes up."

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