Free The Gunslinger (Barnett Ranch) by Pamela Ladner Page B

the pain, it caused her stomach. 
                  One of them tossed her across the saddle and tied her feet to her hands.  She hurt but she would not complain.  She allowed herself to fall asleep after they started riding.  She had to rest and it would be her only chance.
                 
    Jax
                  Jax searched the creek bank as soon as it was light out.  He rode South in the creek, until he found where they’d left out of the creek.  He found the evidence of their camp.  He found two places with blood on the ground.  Both small traces, and he wasn’t sure if either one was Virginia’s.  He hoped not.  He knew without a doubt he would kill the men, who took her, but if they laid their hands on her or worse, raped her, he’d do more than just kill them.  He’d massacre them. 
                  He struggled to keep his head clear.  The thought of losing her was not something he wanted to think about, especially when he’d never even claimed her for his own.  He regretted it now.  She was everything he’d wanted in a woman.  He’d been blind, telling himself she was a child, convincing himself that she irritated him.  She was no child, she was a woman full grown, and he needed her, like he’d never needed another. 
                  He pushed his self and his horse harder than he ever would have in other circumstances.  He wanted to get her back in one piece.  He prayed to God, she would not suffer the torture of rape. 
                  Several times, he lost the tracks then had to circle back and pick up the trail again.  By the time he found the cabin, they were long gone.  He cussed himself for losing the trail.
                  It was now three nights, since they’d taken her.  He hoped they would slow down soon, and it looked as if they’d done just that.  He walked the horse again, following the tracks on foot in the moonlight. 
    He heard them before he saw them. He tied his mare to a tree, took his rifle out of the scabbard and eased his way through the woods.  He took a good look at the campsite.  One man knelt before a fire stirring beans or something in a pot.  Another was changing bandages on his shoulder.  He remembered hearing a shot ring out from the bank, and Mrs. Ellen saying something about Virginia shooting one of them.  He must be the one, because he was glaring at Virginia.  He took in the others and got a good look at Virginia, when one of the men moved to go pee. 
    Her face was black and blue.  Her eye was swollen shut, and her wrist, were bloody.  He would have to take them out one at a time, but he wanted to make them suffer for what they’d done to her.  
                  He took out his bowie knife, and snuck up behind the man who’d escaped to the woods to pee.  He eased up on him and grabbed him covering his mouth, so he could not let out a yell and slit his throat.
                  Jax drug the body into some bushes, covered it with leaves, and then went back to his lookout spot and waited for his next opportunity.  He wouldn’t get another one.  The man with the injured shoulder must have decided he could wait no longer.  He got up from his bedroll and made his way over to Virginia. 
                  Jax watched as he put his hands on her, running his hand over her breast.  Virginia couldn’t fight back the way she was tied, but she took the opportunity to spit on him.   He ripped her shirt open, grabbed her face and pulled her mouth up to his, while he rubbed his other hand across her breast.  Jax could take no more. 
                  He couldn’t shoot him because of the proximity to Virginia.  He never had been as accurate with his rifle as he was with his pistol, and he refused to take a chance with Virginia’s life.  He chose instead to shoot the cook stirring the beans.  The one with his hands on