The Wildest Heart

And then I saw him. A tall rider, hat pushed back on his head, reining his mount around so that it blocked my way.

“Mornin,’ ma’am! Sure is a nice mornin’ for a ride, ain’t it? But if you’re lookin’ for Mark, he’s already gone. Left real early this morning.”

“Mark?” I said haughtily, lifting an eyebrow and he chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s what I call him. Why should I tack a mister onto his name? He ain’t payin’ my wages!”

He had forced me to rein my horse to a stop, and he made no effort to let me by.

I had disliked this man ever since that particular morning in Silver City, when he had stared me up and down so insolently. I disliked him even more now, but I didn’t fear him. Not yet…

“I’m paying your wages, Gil Pardee,” I said coldly. “And I’ll thank you to move aside. I’m in a hurry!”

He put his head on one side and studied me openly, taking in every detail of my appearance, I was sure. “Well, now, lady boss, if that ain’t right unfriendly of you! And here I thought I was bein’ obligin,’ tryin’ to save you a trip to the house. But I guess you ain’t used to our ways out here yet, are you?”

For the first time I had a feeling of impending trouble, and my lips tightened. Was he trying to frighten me? Or to test me? Whatever his motives were, I refused to show fear.

I returned his stare with an icy one of my own. “Mr. Pardee, you are in my way!”

“Well, now, is that right? Shucks, an’ here I thought you might appreciate some company, you bein’ all alone and all.”

“You thought wrong then, and my patience is wearing thin.”

“Guess you are in a hurry to see Mark. I’ve often said to myself, ‘now there’s one lucky feller!’ Wouldn’t mind bein’ left home to look after a purty little lady like you myself.” The meaning of his sneering words was beginning to penetrate, and I felt my knuckles turn white with the effort I was making to control my temper.

“Mr. Pardee, you may consider yourself fired. I neither like your attitude nor your manners. You can pick up your wages at the house.”

He shook his head infuriatingly, grinning meanly.

“You ain’t got that right, lady boss. Todd Shannon hired me. An’ I don’t guess he’ll fire me either, if he hears what I could tell him about the way you and that lawyer nephew of his been carryin’ on.” His grin widened, showing tobacco-stained teeth. “But if you was to be as nice to me as you are to Mark, well, things might be different! I ain’t a bad sort, once you get to know me. Always found it easy to be persuaded by a purty little gal.”

In some ways the situation I now found myself in was almost laughable. But I had begun to be frightened, although I would not show it. “If Todd Shannon ever finds out what you have been saying to me he’d kill you,” I said contemptuously. “You’d better start riding, Gil Pardee, and I’d ride fast, if I were you!”

His smile had been replaced by a tight-lipped leer.

“Think you’re too good for me, huh? Mebbe you think I don’t know enough to please a lady. But that little Flo gal didn’t think so! Fact is, she was real happy at what I could give her. Came after me askin’ for more. Now, what makes you think you’d be any different? You bin giving it to Mark so I guess you can spare some for me.”

His sudden, lightning-swift movement took me off guard. All the time he was talking, he’d been edging his horse closer to mine, and now he grabbed for the reins I held so tightly.

Dancer reared, almost unseating me. And I felt his leg brush mine. He had hold of the reins and was trying to control both Dancer and his own horse. I heard him cursing loudly.

And then I shot him. God knows how I contrived to pull the small gun from my pocket. I think I did it quite by instinct. He was so close, and I have always been a good shot. I hardly realized what I had done until I saw him start to fall, his mouth open, his eves staring wide with shock. There was blood all over his shirt. I had time to notice that before I let the gun drop, my hands full with trying to control my frightened horse.

I had killed a man. And I had never realized before how easy it was to kill. Mark said I was suffering from shock. He said that was why my body felt so rigid, my face and limbs so cold. And yet, shock or no, I had left Gil Pardee lying on his face in the dirt, with his blood slowly seeping out to form a puddle under him, and I had ridden on to find Mark.

“Does it make me a murderer? Should we send for the sheriff?”

In Todd’s enormous study Mark forced me to drink brandy while he knelt by me, chafing my hands and saying soothing things that I scarcely heard. My voice sounded strangely cold in my own ears.

“I remember killing a charging wild buffalo once in India.

I dropped onto one knee—there was scarcely time to take aim, you know. But my shot took him just where I had meant to, and dropped him only a few feet from me. My grandfather was very proud of me that day.”

“Rowena, you must stop thinking about it. You did what your instincts made you do. What you had to do. My God!” His fingers tightened convulsively over mine. “When I think of what might have happened! If you had not killed him, I think I would have. And of the other men here. You mustn’t go on blaming yourself.”

“But I don’t. And can’t you see it, Mark? That is the worst part of all. I killed a man, and I feel nothing. Not even remorse. I think I hated him so much at that moment I wanted to kill him.”

The sheriff came and went, his face grim and serious. His attitude was the same as Mark’s. I had been defending my honor, my virtue. I had merely saved someone else the trouble of killing the brute. No one reproached me for having been out riding by myself, in spite of all the warnings I had received. No one doubted my story.