A Change of Plans

Chapter Eight

Anson was glaring down at the man as he slowly opened one eye. The other was swollen shut and he groaned. "Water," He rasped. "You got any water?"

Anson walked to the fire where he'd left the pitcher and carried it over to where the man lay trussed up against the wagon wheel. Then he poured the entire contents over his head.

The man spewed and sputtered, cursing at him until finally Anson crouched over him, grasped him by the throat and began squeezing until the man could no longer speak and could barely breathe. "If you care to keep breathing, I suggest you shut your mouth. You're in the company of a lady and I won't tolerate that kind of talk." He ground out.

The man nodded and Anson released him.

"Are you hungry?" she asked him quietly as he walked back to her near the fire.

"Not really."

"I am!" the man said, but Anson shot him a look that shut him up instantly.

"Are you?" Anson asked her. She shook her head.

They sat there quietly for some time before Anson, sensing something, looked up and saw riders approaching the wagon from the far side. "You stay here." He told her, grabbing the rifle from his saddle and getting to his feet. He walked out to meet the men before they reached the camp.

"What can I do for you gentlemen?" he asked.

"Name's Bryant. Sheriff Bryant from Eastmont. This is Clyde Perry and Nathan Jones. We're looking for a man, kind of heavy set, dark hair, missing half his teeth. I'm hoping not, but I thought I'd stop in and check just to be sure. He's scheduled to stand trial next week for murder, rape and theft."

"Just so happens we got a man that fits that description exactly. He's tied up presently." He nodded towards the wagon behind him.

"From the looks of things," the man noticed his lip and the slight bruising on his chin, "he didn't go down easy."

"No sir."

The men dismounted and walked over with him. When the sheriff caught sight of Olivia, he shook his head. "He do that to you ma'am?"

"Yes sir." She nodded.

"I see you got just what you deserve then, Clancy." He snapped, looking down at the man. "Boys, bring the extra horse over her, but leave him tied up. And shoot him if he tries anything. I'm terribly sorry about all this folks."

The man obviously didn't want to go with them and struggled as they pulled him to his feet to put him on the horse.

Anson stood near Olivia and when the man glared in their direction, he glared back, holding her behind him.

Finally they were gone and Olivia, who'd been trying to stay strong, burst into tears. It seemed the right thing to do at that moment, to pull her into his arms. "It's alright." He said. "He's not coming back." Then he realized that the baby was between them and he released her straight away.

"Thank you." She said softly. "For coming when you did."

He wanted to say it was nothing. He wanted to tell her that anyone would have done the same. He wanted to tell her she should keep her thanks, but he couldn't. "You're welcome," he muttered.

The baby was gurgling and cooing and he forced himself to look away. "Ever pick out a name for her?" he asked.

"I've been thinking about it." She replied. "I like Emma; Or Ella. I'm just still undecided."

"I suppose it doesn't really matter yet."

"No, I don't suppose it does."

"How did you ever get so brave?" he asked.