Chapter Fifty-Two

Pain is what brought Eleanor to consciousness. It felt as if her head were in a vice and someone continued to tighten it. With a moan, she brought her hand to her head and winced at the lump she felt there. Slowly her eyes fluttered open. The room was dark but she recognized the shadows she saw. She was in her old bedroom at the doc's house.

But why was she here?

Thinking and concentrating were hard things to accomplish when your head felt as if a blacksmith was inside hammering away but she forced herself to push past the pain and attempt to remember why she was here.

She'd been at the ranch with Samantha. She'd been sewing on the porch. That's when men had arrived....

"Samantha?!" she cried out as she sat bolt upright in bed and her head swam forcing her to slam her eyes closed once again.

"Ell?" Timothy's voice broke through the darkness and the bed dipped as he climbed onto it and took her face gently in his hands. "Everything's okay, Ell. I'm here and everything's okay."

Eleanor let out a sob and threw herself against his strong chest as Timothy wrapped himself around her and held her tight. She could hear him whispering softly against her hair as she soaked his dusty blue shirt with tears.

"Samantha?" she finally gasped. "Is Sam okay?"

"She's fine," he promised, pressing a kiss to her brow. She looked up at him in the darkness, her eyes adjusting to the lack of light and she was certain that his green eyes were bright with tears. Lifting a hand, Eleanor caressed his cheek and felt the moisture there as he leaned into her touch.

"What happened, Ell?"

She shivered, making no attempt to remove herself from warmth of his embrace. "It was so fast. The men seemed to come out of nowhere. If Samantha hadn't insisted I keep that rifle near me... I shot one of them but the other grabbed me and he said he was going to..." Eleanor froze. She laid a hand over her pregnant belly and felt fear grip her heart. Had that man...

She tried to pull away from Timothy. She already didn't deserve him after the number of men who had touched her body—if she had been unfaithful to her husband even by force....

"Where the hell are you going?" Timothy grumbled, not loosening his hold. "I'm not ready to let go of you yet." Eleanor bit her lip hard and thought the tension didn't leave her body, she did stop attempting to move away from him. Timothy pressed a tender kiss to her temple. "Talk to me, Eleanor."

She took a deep breath. She had to tell him. He deserved the truth. She'd done enough running away from Timothy in their short time together and it wasn't fair for her to do more now. "I think he may have.. That man wanted to force me and he knocked me unconscious and I can't remember if he did..."

"He didn't," Timothy's quiet assurance interrupted her. "He didn't get a chance to before Samantha chased him off."

Relief washed through her like a river. More tears gathered in Eleanor's eyes and Tim's fingertips gently wiped them away when they fell down her cheeks. "Are you sure?" she whispered.

"Positive. The doc talked to Zachary who had already heard everything from Samantha. And when Doctor Reynolds came in here to check on you and Creed, he told me the story."

"Creed?" Eleanor frowned. "The puppy was hurt?"

Timothy smoothed her hair. "He was shot in the leg but he'll make a full recovery." He chuckled. "And he's rather happy with his warm bed in the floor and the endless supply of meaty bones Catherine's been supplying him with."

Eleanor finally let herself relax in Timothy's arms. He seemed to sense her calmness and he kissed her hair tenderly before laying them both down upon the bed and pulling the blanket around them. His hand splayed across her pregnant belly. "I thought I lost you both," he whispered in the darkness. "When I rode up to the ranch house and saw the bodies and the blood..."

Eleanor felt him tremble and she turned her head to catch his lips gently with hers. She pulled away barely, still able to feel the heat of his mouth. Her hand covered his on her belly. "You still have us, Tim. We're still yours."

With a growl that was somewhere between hunger, desperation and relief, Timothy buried his hand in her hair, avoiding the lump that had been placed there, and crushed his mouth to hers.

Her headache forgotten, Eleanor lost herself to his kiss, meeting his hunger. She had been so certain that she was going to die. So certain that she would never again feel her husbands' strong hands on her body or his firm lips caressing hers. Never again see his lopsided grin. Never again watch him rock back on his heels and see that mischievousness in his green eyes as if there were a giant secret that only he was in on.

Slowly, Timothy pulled away and relaxed upon the bed, pulling Eleanor down so her head was resting on his chest. "I love you, Ell."

"I love you too," she replied, knowing it was the truth. "Tim? What time is it? Where is Sam and Zachary?"

She heard the familiar sound of him opening the watch that Zachary had given him. The watch that had belonged to Zachary's father—who had been very much a father to Timothy as well. "It's too dark for me to see the time but it's sometime between midnight and dawn."

"That narrows it down."

A quiet chuckle rumbled from his chest. He kissed her hair. "Best I can do, sweetheart."

"It'll do then." She yawned, that ache in her head worsening a bit and making her stomach roll. "Sam and Zach?"

"Downstairs sleeping—or at least I think Sam is sleeping. I've heard Zachary's boots make about two-hundred trips around the place keeping watch. I should probably be helping but I didn't want to leave you until you woke up."

"Thank you," she whispered, feeling a million times grateful that he hadn't let her wake up alone. Eleanor had spent years alone and taking care of herself but after only a couple months with Timothy and the steady devotion he showed, she knew she could never go back to that life. "The men that did this, they're the ones that killed Zachary's family, aren't they? The ones that have been chasing Samantha?"

She felt Timothy's arms tense around her. "Yes. But at least two of them are already dead—possibly three going by that blood trail the third was leaving. Clinton can't have too many more working with him. The sheriff is apparently on our side too. It's all gonna be alright, Ell."

Eleanor knew he was only saying what she wanted to hear. There was no way to know that everything would be alright. Those men were killers. Eleanor loved her husband but he was no gunslinger—but Zachary was. There'd once been a time that Eleanor had thought that Zachary would be violent with Samantha given his temper and nature—which seemed ridiculous now after watching how tenderly he treated his wife. Could Zachary take on Clinton and whatever men he had left? She told herself yes—with Timothy and the sheriff having his back, Zachary would get them all out of this. That was the only possibility she would accept right now.

"I should go help keep watch, Ell. I bolted the back door and moved the wardrobe in front of it so no ones getting in that way. Rest. I'll bring you something up to eat soon."

Food was the last thing on Eleanor's mind but she nodded as Timothy slid away from her and got to his feet. "Please be careful, Tim...."

He flashed a reassuring smile in the darkness. "Don't worry, Ell. I vowed to protect my wife and child and that's exactly what I'm going to do. And then we're gonna go back to the ranch and make our life in our new home."

"That sounds good to me."

Tim swooped down and gave her one last long slow kiss before standing straight and rocking back on his heels. "I'll bring you food shortly. I love you, Ell."

She knew he was putting on a brave face. She knew he had to be terrified. So, Eleanor did the same. Crying and whimpering wouldn't help a thing just now.

She smiled up at him. "I love you too."

He went to the door and paused with his hand on the knob. "Oh and no lights. Zachary doesn't want anyone making themselves an easier target."

With that he left the room leaving Eleanor alone in the dark room with only the ticking of the clock and Creeds gentle snores for noise.

***

Caroline had never felt more afraid in all her life. Not fear for herself, but fear for her friends—because the four men sitting inside lamp lit saloon seemed more than eager to kill several people that Caroline held dear.

It was nearing dawn and the saloon was empty except for those four men, herself and her bartender Edgar. He was a fairly new hire and had been working for her for around two months –maybe a little less. She had tried to convince Edgar to leave hours ago when the men had rushed everyone else out of saloon, but he had refused insisting that he couldn't leave her alone. And she couldn't leave. The intruders had made it clear at gunpoint that she was to stay

"Whore?!" the lead man of the group, named Clinton, barked from the table.

Caroline felt her spine stiffen but kept her face free of emotion as she approached them. "What can I do for you?"

"Ride my damn cock," one of the men replied with a chuckle.

"No amount of money would ever make that happen," she assured the dirty, heavily bearded man. His small eyes flashed with anger but the other men at the table laughed heartily.

"She sure told you, Joe," one of them said, patting him roughly on the back.

"Shut the fuck up, Clyde," Joe snarled, seeming prepared to throw a punch. Clyde was still laughing even as he raised his hands in surrender.

Caroline turned her attention back to Clinton and the quietest of the men sitting beside him. The quiet man seemed solemn, sad, resigned.

Caroline had gathered enough to know that three men who had worked for Clinton but were now dead had attacked Samantha and Eleanor at the ranch while Zachary and Timothy had been away. Caroline knew the women had made it back into town but she had no way of knowing if they were okay—though there had been whispers that Zachary and Timothy had come back early and now were holed up at the doctors office. She'd heard that right before Clinton and his men had run everyone out of the saloon.

Perhaps that's why the quiet man seemed so resigned. He knew that they were going to die. Caroline had no doubts that Zachary Marston was a dangerous and deadly man—a man that could and would slaughter anyone that dared threaten the woman he loved.

"Whore....."

"My name is Caroline and you will use it when addressing me. I may have been a whore for a long time but this is my place of business and you will respect me."

Clinton's eyes narrowed. He got to his feet slowly and Caroline fought the overwhelming urge to turn and run. Instead, she squared her shoulders, raised her chin, and simply glared. Clinton came to stand in front of her and without a word, he sent a hand slamming across her cheek.

Caroline saw stars as she stumbled backward, nearly falling to her knees. Edgar came barreling around the bar. "Hey! Keep your hands off her!"

Clinton turned to him. "Watch yourself barkeep. I don't allow disrespect."

Edgar grabbed Caroline's arm and pulled her into him. She was shocked by the movement and found herself unable to speak as he wrapped his arms around her. "And I won't allow her to be harmed. If you want to pick a fight, go do it with whoever that bastard is in town you've been carrying on about all damn night."

Caroilne tensed. Why would Edgar pick a fight with Clinton. The man was going to get himself killed.

"He's right," quiet man spoke up. "We mgiht as well get this over with, Clinton. We already know we're going to die. You've killed all of us with this damn obsession of yours."

Clinton's face, which had been startlingly emotionless suddenly contorted with rage. He spun around to face the quiet man with his hands fisted at his sides. "Goddammit, Tex, the only reason I haven't killed you for your constant doubt is because I need your damn gun out there against Zachary. But if you keep it up, I'll blow your damn brains out."

Tex simply shrugged as he sighed and sat back in the chair. He looked completely unafraid as he held Clinton's gaze. "Either you do it now or he does it later, I don't reckon it makes much of a difference."

"Are you still sore over Winslow and LeRoy?" Clinton demanded. "People die, Tex. Get the hell over it."

"They were my best friends!" Tex snarled, rising to his feet.

"Yeah, they always was close," Clyde snickered, elbowing Joe in the ribs and bringing a chuckle from the other man.

Clinton simply stood there seething and for a moment, Caroline thought he was going to kill Tex—she hoped he would. That would mean one less man for Zachary to take care of. She felt disappointment in her soul when Clinton took a deep steadying breath and simply turned his back to Tex.

"Barkeep, take the whore in the back and clean her up. She has blood on her face."

Caroline raised her fingertips to her lip and winced when she felt the split across it. Edgar cursed under his breath and put his finger under chin to tilt her head up and his dark eyes dropped to her lips. Caroline's breath caught at the intensity of his gaze. What was going on?

His eyes snapped back to Clinton. "Don't you put another mark on her," he warned, his voice vibrating with rage.

"Take your whore and clean her up. It's nearly dawn and the men and I have work to do."

Caroline didn't speak as Edgar kept his arm tight around her and led her into the storage room. When they were alone inside, she quickly scrambled from his arms. "I have to go," she whispered, eyes going to the back door. This was the first time she'd been out of Clinton's sight since the man had come in. "I have to go warn them..."

Edgar nodded. "Of course you do. I'll go with you."

"I don't want you putting yourself in the middle of this," she countered. "I don't want you to get hurt."

Edgar just pulled a bandana from his pocket and gently wiped at her lip. "I'm not scared of those assholes."

Caroline had no time to think of what this meant or the feelings that Edgar was suddenly displaying toward her. She had to warn her friends. So, she nodded, accepted this turn of events, and rushed for the back door.

Once outside, she slipped down the lamp lit streets until she reached the doctors' home. Before she could knock, the door was thrown open and she found herself staring down the barrel of a rifle held by Doctor Reynolds.

"Don't shoot," she squeaked, holding up her hands.

Doc Reynold's was quick to lower the gun. "What are you doing here? Are you hurt?"

"No.. No, I came to warn the others. Clinton and his men are at the saloon. I think they're just waiting for daybreak..." Which Caroline realized was less than an hour away.

"Come on in," Doctor Reynold's encouraged, moving out of the way. His gaze went to the bartender. "Edgar, are you okay? They haven't hurt you have they?"

Edgar shook his head and shoved hand through his shaggy blond hair. "No, I was serving them drinks, they wanted me alive."

Doctor Reynold's closed the door once they were safely inside and bolted it. Caroline wrapped her arms tight around herself. "Where is everyone?"

"Samantha is in the patient room. Zachary is somewhere prowling around the house, same with Tim. Sheriff Thomas is out back making rounds around the outside of the house, Eleanor is upstairs in bed and Catherine is in the kitchen starting breakfast."

"So, everyone is okay?" Caroline asked, her heart lightening. "I heard there was an attack..."

Doctor Reynolds looked exhausted as he fell down on a chair and ran his hand through his thinning hair. "There was. Eleanor has a head injury but nothing long lasting. Samantha was shot in the shoulder and won't be able to use her arm for a while but should be fine."

"You need to rest, doctor," Caroline urged. "Give Edgar your gun, he can help keep watch while you take a nap."

The doc paused a moment but his exhaustion won out and he hefted up the rifle and laid it in Edgar's outstretched hand. Caroline bent down and kissed the doc's weathered cheek. "Rest. Everything will be fine. We have Zachary Marston on our side."

"I'll just rest my eyes for a few short minutes," the doc agreed. Caroline smiled as the man seemed to fall asleep in an instant.

She turned to Edgar. "I'm going to go see if Catherine needs help."

He nodded, his dark eyes suddenly looking a bit more guarded as he gripped the rifle in his hands. "Be careful."

She turned her back on him and began to walk toward the stails. A sudden sickening thud caused her to whirl around and she saw Edgar standing over the doc with that rifle butt aimed at the doc's head where a bloody welt was forming.

Caroline realized her mistake but it was too late. Edgar was not on their side, Doctor Reynold's slumped unconcious form was proof of that. Edgar had taken advantage of her. He had used her to gain access to the house and her friends. Clealry the man had been working with Clinton the entire time and Caroline had brought the snake right into the den.

She opened her mouth, prepared to yell for help but was silenced when Edgar swung the rifle and it slammed against the side of her head turning her world to black. She heard his voice as consciousness faded. "Sorry about this, darlin'." 

A/N: The shitteth is fixing to hit the fannith, y'all! Thank you for reading!!