Longarm on a Witch-Hunt by Tabor Evans

Author:Tabor Evans
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group

15

Melinda Crawford gritted her teeth to keep from crying as she swayed back and forth in the saddle. Her wrists has been lashed to the saddle horn, and the rawhide strips used to bind them had been pulled cruelly tight. If she had to ride like this all day, her wrists would be rubbed raw and bloody by the time the group of riders stopped.

Melinda glanced over at her aunt. Beth’s jaw was swollen and bruised where one of the outlaws had hit her, but her eyes were clear and glittered with anger.

These men didn’t know what they had done by raiding the Circle Moon, thought Melinda. Not by a long shot.

There were seven of them, including their leader, the one called Bull. Bull Stennett, that was his name, Melinda recalled hearing Marshal Long say. The name fit him. Stennett was built like a bull with his thick neck, broad shoulders, and barrel chest. His jaw thrust out arrogantly, and his Stetson was jammed down on thick, curly black hair.

Stennett must have felt Melinda’s eyes on him, because he hipped around in the saddle and grinned at her. She glared back at him, and he laughed.

“That’s right, gal,” he told her. “You keep that feisty attitude. It’ll make tamin’ you that much sweeter.”

“Melinda.” Beth spoke in a low, forceful voice. “Ignore him, Melinda.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the younger woman grated.

Stennett looked at Beth, and his expression grew even more lecherous. “And you, lady,” he said, “you’re goin’ to be even more fun.”

Beth stared off into the hazy distances of the basin to the west. After a moment, Stennett laughed again and turned back around in his saddle.

Melinda and her aunt exchanged a glance. Melinda took some comfort from the strength she saw in Beth’s face. They were in a bad fix, true, but neither of them had given up hope.

Maybe Marshal Long would find them, Melinda thought. Stennett had seemed confident that the marshal and his makeshift posse were trapped in Salem Valley, maybe even dead, but Custis Long had struck Melinda as a stubborn man in the best sense of the word. The marshal wouldn’t give up. It would take death to stop him.

Melinda let her mind wander back to that morning, when she had brazenly taken off her nightshirt in front of the marshal, even though she had suspected that he was awake. When they had locked eyes as she stood nude before him, she had felt the heat of desire growing in her belly. Melinda was not as innocent as she looked, and she would have enjoyed getting to know Marshal Long better. That was another reason to hate Bull Stennett, for ruining those plans Melinda had begun to make.

Beth and Melinda had been about to ride out and check the cattle in the pastures when Stennett and three other outlaws showed up. Melinda had known as soon as she saw them that something was wrong. She had realized that they weren’t members of the posse, and since they

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