The Outlaw's Angel (Daughters of the Prairie 1)

He hadn’t loved anyone since his mother had been taken from him all those years ago. He didn’t even remember the emotion. Admittedly, he felt tenderness for Naomi. He was certainly willing to protect her at all costs. He ached for her kisses, and God knew he wanted to make love to her. His cock tightened at the thought.

Truth be told, if she were in danger, he’d willingly give his life for hers.

That wasn’t love, was it?

He let out a whoop, as he turned the young stallion, Thor, around. He was headed back to the camp.

Back to the woman he loved.

* * *

Ike forced Naomi against the desk, bending her over. “I’m gonna have you like this first, like a goddamned animal.”

She struggled as he hiked up her skirts, tears streaming from her eyes. His strength defeated hers. Her heart raced, but she couldn’t scream. She dared not. He’d said he’d kill her.

Damn Bobby Morgan for leaving her to this! She willingly thought the sinful curse. How had she ever had tender feelings for the man? He was a criminal. A kidnapper. An outlaw. He’d traded her virtue for her ticket home. Or maybe for a new gun. Or a new horse. Or money for his whores.

“Oh, yes.” Ike’s slimy voice dripped with lasciviousness as he thrust one hand into the slit in her drawers.

Acid rose in her throat.

“A little dry, but that don’t bother me. You’ll moisten up soon enough.”

He ripped her drawers down to her knees, exposing her bare buttocks. His hand came down on her with a cool slap, and Naomi winced. Her married friends hadn’t said anything about this. But then neither were they forced against their will.

She gritted her teeth, but a scream escaped.

“Damn it, bitch!” He slapped her buttocks again.

A tear fell down her cheek.

“I told you to keep quiet. He reached around and stuffed a soiled handkerchief into her mouth. Naomi gagged as the rank taste of chewing tobacco and spittle seeped against her tongue.

She bit down, determined to bear whatever he had in store for her. She had to, if she ever hoped to see her ma, pa, and sister again.

She closed her eyes and pictured her pa’s claim outside of Dugan. She imagined the protection of Pa’s strong arms as they lifted her off the ground in a bear hug. The serenity of Ma’s gentle smile as they kneaded bread together. The innocence her baby sister, Ruth, only fifteen, half child-half woman. Naomi had so much to teach her yet.

She’d see them again. All she had to do was endure hell.

As she steeled herself against the impending assault, Ike’s hold loosened, and she fell forward onto the desk as a gunshot exploded.

“Ike Hawkins, you fuckin’ son of a bitch.”

Bobby’s voice. Icy cold, as she’d never heard it. Then another shot, and a heavy thunk on the dirt.

Tears streamed down Naomi’s face, and she choked through the handkerchief. Within seconds, Bobby’s hand was in front of her, easing the dirty fabric from her parched mouth. With the most tender of touches, he placed her drawers back around her waist and pulled her skirt down so she was no longer shamefully exposed.

He turned her around and pulled her to him, crushing her against his body as though he couldn’t get her close enough.

“Angel, angel,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. So goddamned sorry.”

He held her for what seemed like an eternity while she sobbed into his shoulder, basking in his strength. She was safe. Safe with Bobby.

Finally, when her sobs lessened a bit and she rubbed her nose on his shirt, he grasped her shoulders and pushed her away, but only far enough to gaze at her with angry, yet sad, amber eyes.

“Did he?” Bobby cleared his throat. “He didn’t...did he?”

“N-No.”