San Antonio Rose (Historical Romance) by Constance O'Banyon Page A

in the shadows, Ian
climbed the hill. He couldn't be sure it was an
animal, and Emerada was alone.
    Emerada looked around for Ian, thinking his
movement must have awakened her. She wasn't concerned. He would hardly have forced her to
come with him and then abandoned her here in
the wilderness.

    "Well, well, Burt, lookee here at what we got
us," a man remarked, stepping from behind a
laurel bush and squinting at her in the half darkness. He was soon joined by his companion.
    "We got ourselves a little senorita, Gip. Hey,
honey, you all alone out here?"
    Emerada jumped to her feet, frantically looking about for Ian. The strangers had the appearance of buffalo hunters, but they were too
far south to hunt those shaggy beasts. Fear
tugged at her mind as one man stepped in front
of her and took her chin in his grimy hand,
turning her face to the moonlight.
    "You're a real beauty," Burt said, his gaze
raking her delicate face. "I ain't never had me
no woman as pretty as you."
    "I get her after you, Gip," Burt said, dipping
down and scooping up the rifle Ian had left behind. "I'm gonna have me a real good time with
her."
    Emerada was frozen in place. She should
have run when she had the chance. The filthy
man ran one hand over her breasts, pinching
and kneading until she winced in pain.
    "Please do not do that, senor," she said, shuddering in revulsion. She tried to back away
from him, but his grip merely tightened.
    "Well, now, don't she talk American all fancy
like. A looker, and she's got schooling, too." His foul breath fanned her face, and when she
turned her head away from him, he wheezed
with laughter. "You're gonna like me, little
senorita."

    "I don't think so." A cold, steely voice spoke
from the shadows. "Let her go," Ian warned.
    Both men whirled around to see a tall man
just behind them. "Who'd you be?" the man
called Gip asked, noticing with satisfaction
that the stranger didn't have a gun.
    "I'm the man who's about to end your miserable life, you bastard. Take your hands off
her!"
    "Now I don't 'zackly see it like that," Burt
said, displaying the rifle. "There's two of us,
and only one of you, and this here must be
your gun." He chuckled. "What're you gonna
do, throw rocks at us, scare us to death?"
    "You're wasting time," Ian said coolly. "You
can either drop the guns-both of you-and
ride away, or die. It is of little matter to me either way. You decide."
    There was something unsettling about the
calmness with which Ian spoke, and Gip
laughed nervously. Still, he put on a face of
bravado for his companion-after all, he was
holding a gun on the stranger. He elbowed Burt
in the ribs. "Tell him we done killed us five
Mexicans, down to the creek this morning."
    "Back-shot, no doubt," Ian said, glancing at
the stars as if he were gauging time. "You have
ten seconds to release her and ride away."

    "I'll just shoot ya dead now and have done
with it," Burt replied, cocking the rifle and aiming it at Ian's head. "Don't worry 'bout the little
senorita here, 'cause when you're dead, Gip
and me'll take care of her."
    In that moment, Ian leaped forward so
swiftly that both men were taken by surprise.
He grabbed Gip's arm and slammed him into
Burt with such force that both men lost their
balance and tumbled to the ground, their arms
and legs entangled.
    Unfortunately, Emerada went down with
them. Ian stepped across them, kicked their
guns out of their reach, and picked up his rifle.
He then extended his hand to Emerada and
pulled her up, pushing her behind him, all the
while keeping the rifle trained on the two men.
    "While you're down there, take your boots
off," Ian said.
    "What! You want our boots?"
    "Take them off, I said!"
    Both men scrambled to comply, first one
boot and then the other. They knew by the tone
of his voice that he'd shoot them dead if they
didn't do as he ordered.
    "Get their guns and put them in the saddlebags, Emerada. Then saddle the horse and lead