Sarah could smell his filthy, whiskey-laden breath as he leaned over her, grinning. She braced herself for the unthinkable.
“Stop right there, you bastards. Let her go and back off, before I blow your brains out.” Silhouetted against the moonlight, Joe stood in the doorway to the bedroom, the Winchester rifle in his hands cocked and aimed. Caught off guard, the men reeled backward, the bigger one clutching his unbuttoned trousers. “That’s it,” Joe said in an icy voice. “Back off and raise your hands. One false move and I’ll enjoy pulling this trigger.”
The men, still wearing their gun belts, did as they were ordered. “We didn’t mean no harm, mister,” the bigger man whined. “We was only funnin’.”
“Shut up and keep your hands where I can see them.” Joe kept his eyes on the pair. “Are you all right, Sarah?”
“I am now.” She pushed her nightgown down and stood, shaken and fighting tears of rage.
“Get their pistols,” Joe said. “And, you two, don’t you dare touch her!”
Sarah slid the pistols out of the men’s holsters. Close-up, the odor of their bodies made her want to vomit, but she willed herself to stay calm. So the pair had been armed after all. Maybe they’d planned to shoot her once they’d had their fun.
“Where’s Blake?” Joe asked.
“I sent him out back with the dog. He should be safe.”
“Go to him. He’ll be scared. I’ll take care of our friends here.”
After leaving the pistols in the cupboard, Sarah hurried out through the front door. Unmindful of her bare feet, she raced around the house. She found Blake in the shed, hiding under the buggy, with Humdinger guarding him. She called her son out and hugged him. “Are we safe now, Mama?” he asked.
She held him close, trembling with all the emotions she’d held back—terror, rage, and relief. “Yes, my big, brave boy, we’re safe,” she said.
* * *
The was no sheriff in Blue Moon and no jail. Unless he wanted to shoot the monsters who’d nearly raped Sarah, Joe would have to make do with forcing them to shed their boots and clothes. Barefoot, naked, and shivering in the night breeze, they were set free to go back to the horses they’d tethered outside the saloon and leave town, with a warning that worse would happen if they ever came back.
As they mounted and disappeared down the road, Joe piled their possessions on a patch of bare earth, doused them with lamp oil from the kitchen, and set them ablaze. Then he turned and went back into the house, where he found Sarah sitting on the edge of the bed, holding her son on her lap. The dog crouched at her feet.
Without a word, he put the rifle aside, sat down beside them, and gathered them into the circle of his arms. Fiercely protective, he held them tight. They nestled against him, making no effort to pull away. They were his—his woman and his son. He felt it in his mind, in his heart, and in his soul. And he knew that he wouldn’t rest until he could make them his in the eyes of the world.
“You can’t stay here tonight,” he said. “You and Blake are coming with me, to my place.”
She stiffened and pulled away from him. “I know you mean well. But that wouldn’t look good for us, Joe. And I don’t need to tell you why.”
He let her go, knowing that she was right. Even under these conditions, keeping up appearances mattered.
“I understand,” he said. “But I’m not leaving you here alone with a broken door. Go on back to bed. I’ll stay and keep watch.”
“There’s no need for that. I can use one of the guns that those men left. And there’s the dog.”
“Don’t argue with me, Sarah. I’m not leaving you alone, even if it means I have to spend the night on the porch.”
She hesitated, then sighed. “All right. You can put your horse in the shed. But there’s no way I’ll be able to sleep. I’ll fire up the stove and make us some coffee. And you”—she turned to her son—“back to bed now.”
“Can I sleep in your bed? I want to be close to Hummy.”
“Fine. And Hummy can sleep on the rug. But just for tonight.”
As the boy climbed into the bed, Joe went out to his horse, which he’d ridden the short distance from the saloon. In the shed, he removed the saddle and bridle and left Flint a bucket of water from