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Chapter 4

Tara woke about an hour later.  Eyes still closed, she stretched her arms over her head, a smile on her lips as she thought about what she and Willow were doing later.  When her hands encountered the wrought-iron headboard, she momentarily frowned in confusion. 

It came back to her then.  Her wish.  Being transported back in time.  The lawman.  

Lindsey.   

He’d said to call him Lindsey. 

She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed.  She didn’t feel any different.  No soreness or disheveled clothing to indicate that anything had been done to her.  By all outward appearances, nothing had happened. 

Tara glanced around for a sign that he’d been there.  Except for her boots that had been tossed haphazardly to the floor by him, she came up empty.  Confused, she hurriedly grabbed her boots and laced them up on her feet.  The faint sounds of laughter could be heard from downstairs, and she was sure that with the Marshal now gone, others would be wanting their turn. 

She swallowed her rising nausea and forced herself to walk towards the door and the saloon below.  It wasn’t like she had some place else to go.  She could run off, but how far would she actually get?  And, would she really be any safer out there on her own? 

As she passed by Anya’s room, her cheeks flooded with color, the ex-demon’s exuberance easily heard through the closed door.  Tara increased her pace until she was all but running down the stairs just to escape the sound.  Her hurried steps brought the room to a standstill, and she could have kicked herself at drawing everyone’s attention her way. 

Feeling suddenly trapped, her eyes darted nervously about the room, waiting for the next man to step up and stake his claim.  No one moved forward, and Tara waited for the other shoe to drop. 

“You there…new girl…come get this tray.” 

Tara’s head swiveled towards the barkeep gesturing towards the circular tray waiting at the end of the bar.  She nodded frantically, descending the last few steps and weaving her way between the tables to do like the man had asked.  A few of the men leered when she walked past, but not one of them touched her. 

Confusing, but she wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

“Y-y-you wanted m-me?” she asked upon reaching his side. 

“Take that tray to the far table, then hurry back.  I’ll have the Marshal’s dinner ready and you can take him his plate.” 

At the bartender’s words, her eyes frantically scanned the room until they encountered his piercing blue stare as he lounged at a darkened table in the corner.  His lips quirked in a half smile, and she could feel herself blushing all over again.  She mentally shook herself and turned away, snagging the tray of beer before her new boss could yell at her. 

“Well, aren’t you a prime piece of flesh,” one of the men drawled out when she began setting mugs on the circular table. 

“Leave ‘er alone, Willy.  This one’s the Marshal’s.”  The second man turned to her saying, “Sorry, ma’am.  Meant no disrespect.” 

Tara nodded, unable to speak.  She quickly placed their empty mugs on the tray and hurried back to the bar. 

She was the Marshal’s? 

She didn’t have time to think about it, however, because a steaming plate of food was thrust her way.  A thumb jabbed in the direction of the lawman’s table, his brusque voice telling her to get a move on. 

Ignoring the wild beating of her heart, Tara forced herself to put one foot in front of the other until she’d reached the Marshal’s table. 

“Did you sleep alright?” 

The whispered words brought a blush to her cheeks, and with her eyes remaining steadfast on the plate of food, she nodded quickly. 

“Is that my lunch?”  

Tara lifted her head and looked at Lindsey.  The twinkle in his eyes indicated his teasing, and she breathed a silent sigh of relief, nodding.  The corner of his lips lifted slightly, and she couldn’t prevent the answering smile she gave him, wobbly though it was.  She managed to find her voice as she set the plate down in front of him. 

“The bartender s-said it was your dinner, t-though.” 

“Yeah, that’s what they call lunch ’round these parts.  Supper is your evening meal,” Lindsey explained. 

“Oh….o-okay.  Is there anything else I can get for you?” she asked. 

“I’m good for now.  Maybe a refill in a bit,” Lindsey replied, nodding towards his half-filled mug. 

Tara nodded again, saying, “Just let me know.” 

“Sure thing…Tara.” 

Her eyes flew up to his face.  “How did…” 

“Came across your friend when I left your room earlier.  She’s kinda…” 

“Strange?” Tara offered. 

“That would be one way of putting it, yeah,” Lindsey chuckled.  “Tell me…how did you two meet up?” 

“We…ahh…I kinda knew her in another life.” 

“Before coming here?” 

The sympathy in his gaze brought tears to her eyes, and she willed them away, nodding briskly. 

“Well, I’ll let you get back to work…” 

At her stricken expression, Lindsey could have kicked himself.  Ignoring the others in the saloon, he quickly snagged Tara’s hand and pulled her down onto his lap. 

“Hey…shhh… It’s all right.  You’re not…Hell.” Lindsey leaned his head back against the wall and contemplated banging it a few times against the hard, unyielding surface.  He was a lawyer for fuck’s sake.  He was supposed to have a way with words.  But, around this girl, all he seemed to do was make her cry.  An order of “foot-in-the-mouth” right here, if you please.   

As she clung to his vest, Lindsey did his best to explain what he meant. 

“Shhhh… Baby, don’t cry.  When I said ‘work’, I meant it in the literal ‘can-I-take-your-order’ sense.  Not the…well, to put it bluntly… what your friend, Anya, seems to enjoy so much.” 

There!  He’d said it.  And hopefully he was clear enough that she wouldn’t mistake his meaning.  She was such a delicate thing, and he’d bet that the girl had never uttered the word sex, let alone actually done the deed. 

Lindsey felt her shudder, then she seemed to collect herself and sit up.  He felt a jolt go through him when she gazed down at him, her blue eyes shimmering with gratitude.  His hand lifted of its own accord, his thumb brushing back and forth along her full lower lip while his fingers cupped her jaw. 

“So beautiful,” he murmured, coaxing her head down towards his. 

Their lips made contact and the inhabitants of the saloon seemed to fade away.  Her startled gasp provided the opening he needed and Lindsey slid his tongue inside her mouth.  She offered up no resistance at his gentle invasion, allowing him to explore at his leisure.  Oblivious to the cold stare directed his way by another blonde female holding court with several other males at a nearby table, Lindsey deepened the kiss… thrilling when he felt Tara’s tentative response. 

She leaned into him, her fingers sliding up to toy with his hair – a secret turn on of his.  He wanted nothing more than to sweep her into his arms and stride swiftly from the room.  But she wasn’t ready for that just yet.  Instead, he reluctantly broke the kiss, pulling back to look up at her slightly bemused expression. 

Her eyes opened and, realizing where she was and what she’d been doing, blushed a becoming shade of red.  He thought she was amazing.  Her honest response soothed his jaded soul and Lindsey leaned up to give her a quick peck on the lips before helping her off his lap. 

She was trying to look anywhere but at him, but he was having none of that.  His thumb flicked over her palm where he still held her hand. 

“You’ll be alright?” he asked her softly. 

Tara nodded, unable to look him in the eye.  “I…uh…”  She hazarded a quick glance at his face, forcing herself not to melt at his expression.  “Thanks,” she whispered, then reluctantly pulled her hand from his grasp and walked off, back to the bar. 

The next several hours were spent refilling drinks, and singing the occasional song for the saloon’s customers.  The other girls working in the saloon came and went – especially Anya.  And Tara would have cringed for the ex-demon if she’d been anything other than happy about her predicament.  Instead, she concentrated on keeping her boss happy, which meant she ran herself ragged carrying tray after tray of various spirits to the waiting customers.  By the time the sun had set, her feet were already aching. 

Unfortunately, things were just starting to pick up inside the town’s only means of entertainment. 

Hiding a grimace at the blisters that were no doubt adorning each heel, Tara continued to serve the customers until she was abruptly snatched about the middle by one of the men – sending her tray and empty glasses crashing to the ground. 

The noise seemed to topple that of the boisterous crowd, and when the saloon’s occupants saw what had caused the commotion, all noise came to an abrupt halt. 

Tara sat unmoving on the man’s lap, shocked into motionlessness by his groping hands.  His evil aura, as well as those of the others at his table, seemed to slam into her, her eyes darting around frantically in search of her savior. 

Lindsey. 

Only, he wasn’t where he’d been earlier.  The table in the far corner vacant.  And none of the other occupants seemed in any hurry to help her out. 

She was alone.  With an evil, drunken gunslinger doing his best to cop a feel. 

Tara tried to make herself as small as possible.  His suggestive comments causing her to swallow the bile steadily rising in her throat.  Then his hand found its way into her hair, yanking her head back painfully.  Tears sprang into her eyes, both from his rough treatment and because of the disgusting things he continued to whisper in her ear.  Things that he was going to do to her.  Things he was going to let his friends do to her. 

His taunts were the only thing that broke the uneasy silence.  Leastways, they were… until two distinct clicks seemed to reverberate around the room. 

She didn’t know what to make of the noise.  But, the man beneath her did.  Apparently, so did the others either standing or sitting near them, because they seemed to part like the Red Sea, upending chairs in an attempt to put as much distance between themselves and her as possible.   

~*~ 

When the barkeep’s boy had raced into the jailhouse, Lindsey had felt a moment’s panic.  The boy had babbled on about how he needed to get to the saloon right away – before the girl got hurt.  It was the ‘girl’ that propelled him to his feet, racing out of the jail much to the astonishment of his deputy.  His one thought to get to Tara. 

As Lindsey stepped from the darkened shadows near the rear entrance of the saloon, none of the fear he’d felt showed.  The ominous clank of his spurs marked his progress into the room – walking inside just far enough to ensure a clear shot.  His face was a stony mask, the twin, pearl-handled Colts cocked and aimed at the man still manhandling the saloon girl.  He forced his attention away from Tara and noted the body language of the man still sitting at the table.  There was no way that gunfire wasn’t going to be exchanged; Lindsey just needed to make sure that Tara would be out of the crossfire. 

“Let. Her. Go. Now.”  The whisper-soft words were overly loud in the room.   

Steely blue eyes watched as the man tightened his grip, ready to throw her off of him so he could get to his six-shooter. 

Lindsey had to admit, the man was fast.  But, he’d had the advantage, his guns already drawn and aimed.  The second Tara was out of his line of site, he fired.  Twin shots that caught the man dead center in the chest when he turned.  No one moved as he jerked from the dual impact, everyone too shocked to do anything but stare in wide-eyed amazement as the Marshal killed the youngest son of one of the richest – and most corrupt – ranchers in the area.   

Lindsey ignored them all, intent on reaching Tara.  He knelt down at her side, drawing her up off the wooden floor where she’d been thrown and into his arms.  She clung to him, crying softly, and he did his best to soothe her while guiding her towards the stairs to her room. 

“Someone do something with that,” he called over his shoulder to no one in particular, not bothering to turn around. 

“Uh…Marshal?” 

Lindsey paused on the first landing.  He turned around, eyes sweeping over the incredulous stares of the saloon’s inhabitants. 

“Yeah?” 

“You know who that was, right?  Who you done killed?” one of the men called out. 

“Was a fair fight,” another argued.  “You all saw him go for his gun.  Hell, Marshal even waited till he turned around before firin’.” 

“Ain’t gonna make no difference once the Man finds out,” the first man replied. 

Others began murmuring their assent, nodding and talking amongst themselves over the Marshal’s predicament.  Lindsey just waited.  When no one appeared to be forthcoming with the information, he questioned the saloon’s inhabitants. “So, who was it?” 

“’Twas Max Shockwell, the youngest son of Sam Shockwell.  He’s gonna be comin’ after you now, Marshal, make no mistake about it.  Don’t matter that is was fair and all.  See, Mr. Shockwell… he’s the law round here…leastways until you showed up.  When word gets back to him that you killed his son—” 

The man’s words were cut off by an elbow to the ribs from his friend.  You didn’t talk about the Man like that.  Not when he had spies in town.  It wasn’t safe for your continued good health. 

“Let him come,” Lindsey threw over his shoulder, once more starting his journey up the stairs.  “I’ve faced worse things in my time than a badass rancher, and I’m still alive.” 

Once he’d disappeared out of view, the men went back to what they were doing.  Back at her spot at the poker table, Darla stared at the balcony where Lindsey had disappeared from sight.  Her eyes narrowed in contemplation, and she vowed she’d get even for him choosing the other girl over her.  Even though she’d rebuffed his claim on her, she had still viewed him as his.  To tease and torment until she finally allowed him into her bed. 

But, he’d turned her game back on her.  Casting her aside for another…and that wasn’t something that she could let him get away with. 

Shuffling the cards with a dexterity that caused a few men at the table to swallow hard, she commented, “So, who’s this Mr. Shockwell.” 

Four sets of eyes glanced nervously over at the next table – towards the man she’d taunted Lindsey with earlier.  Obviously one of Shockwell’s spies.  She’d have to have a little chat with the man later, get him to give her an introduction to the rancher.  

Her smile widened maliciously as she thought of the revenge she’d have on Lindsey, and Darla dealt the cards expertly about the table, making sure to pad hers with the winning hand. 

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