Showdown at Shiloh by Jake Logan

Author:Jake Logan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group

7

The evil feel of the town named Shiloh clamped harder in Meg’s belly as the small procession made its way toward the big compound in the center of the settlement, a flag with crossed bars and stars on a field of red fluttering above the south, or front, wall.

A few brown-skinned people in ragged clothes, tattered blankets tossed across a shoulder and wearing big-brimmed, floppy hats, disappeared quickly and fearfully along the way as Shiloh and his men rode into view.

A few of the Mexicans, heavily armed and obviously part of Shiloh’s gang—or perhaps some other outlaw bunch—lounged against buildings and raised hands in casual greeting as the slight horseman passed by.

Others, tough-looking white men with faces darkened from wind and sun, lifted fingers to hat brims in a sort of military salute to Shiloh. He returned the salutes, sometimes calling the men by name. For the most part, their gazes settled on Meg. She could feel the weight of raw lust in their stares as she rode past.

One bearded, broad-shouldered, and dirty tough strode up to Meg, put a hand on her thigh, and grinned. He was missing two front teeth; the remaining teeth were yellowish brown and chipped.

“Hey, Colonel,” the man called, “looks like you brung us some mighty fine pussy this time—”

“Remove your hand, Marks!” Shiloh snapped. “This woman is not for the likes of you—or anybody. Touch her and I’ll stake you to a wagon wheel and roast you alive, sabe?”

Marks’s hand yanked away as if he had grabbed a hot stove. “Yes, sir, Colonel. You’re the boss.”

“Don’t forget that, Marks. It will save you a lot of grief.”

The man strode away, trying to look indifferent and tough, but Meg could tell he was badly shaken. What was it about this little man called Shiloh, she wondered, that put such fear in the hearts of bigger and stronger men? And what did Shiloh mean that nobody was to touch her? When had that order gone into effect? Not one man in the gang, not even Shiloh, had tried to force her legs apart in the last week. She welcomed the absence of humiliation and pain of the unwanted attention, but now wondered: If they didn’t plan to use her, what did they have in mind?

She forced the questions away. For the moment, it was enough that they wouldn’t be bothering her. She tried to concentrate on the details of the town itself; the overall layout remained fresh in her mind from her observations up on the pass.

All the buildings seemed to serve a function. They rode past a large livery stable, big enough to accommodate a bigger herd of horses than she’d seen in her entire life, complete with an expansive, well-equipped blacksmith shop attached. Also alongside the livery sprawled a wagon yard only half full despite the three large Conestoga freighters and half a dozen smaller flatbed wagons inside. Most of the wagons appeared empty, but a few of the smaller rigs had canvas stretched over goods of some sort.

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