Gold Dust Widow: The Story of an Outlaw's Revenge

Chapter 5: Clara

I fell backwards into the dirt with a gasp. Jasper landed on top of me heavily, pushing the air from my lungs in a single breath. My shoulder screamed with pain from the impact. The shot was still ringing in my ears, deafening me.

Then suddenly his big hands were grasping mine, tearing the rifle from my fingers. He straddled my hips, one hand holding both my wrists and pulling my arms up above my head, pinning them to the earth. I screamed with the pain it caused my shoulder. His other hand roughly tore his belts from my hips, tossing them aside.

I tried to kick him, I tried to flip out of his grasp but he held me down, putting all his weight on me, leaning over my chest so our faces were mere inches apart.

"Stop moving," he snarled. His grey eyes were awash with rage.

I stared up at him, my shoulder throbbing. Unwanted tears sprung from my eyes. I could feel my heartbeat in my shoulder, every strumming beat. And I hated feeling so weak.

My chest was heaving for breath, my anger raging. He was also breathing heavily from the run, his grey eyes bounced back and forth across my face. I felt his grasp on my wrists tighten as I pulled.

I was suddenly acutely aware that his body was covering mine entirely, not a part of me wasn't pressed against his solid frame.

I tried again to shift from his grasp; the rifle was barely inches from the tip of my fingers.

"I said, stop moving!" he barked.

I stopped struggling to glare at him through my tears. He stayed pressed down against me, catching his breath. I turned my face away from his to avoid staring into his eyes any longer, as his forehead dipped almost to touch mine. I could feel his warm breath against the side of my face.

Finally, he leaned back, with a heavy sigh, keeping one hand around both my wrists. He pulled me up with him.

Ares gave a cheerful bark.

Grunting, Jasper twisted my arms behind my back. I gasped in pain as he slammed his cuffs on my wrists and spun me around to face him. He looked furious.

"You aren't going anywhere," he huffed, his hand fully gripping my upper arm and dumping me on the ground.

I watched as he picked up his pistols and lashed them around his hips, and then he grabbed his rifle and balanced it on his shoulder.

"Come," he barked, grasping my upper arm and pulling me to my feet again. I stumbled a little as he pushed me ahead of him, and marched me back across the desert.

My mind was spinning. Hank's voice in my head berating me for not shooting him when I had the chance, but shooting the man who'd just saved my life and bandaged my wound, even if he was walking me straight to the gallows, just didn't seem right.

Call it an unwanted conscious. I could just never kill anyone who was unarmed or harmless. He had been fast asleep. It would have been the act of a coward to shoot him.

Running away while I was weak, with one useless arm was also stupid. I should have waited to take my chance.

I stared at his broad back; he seemed to be shaking with fury, his voice gruff. Ares ran ahead of us, sniffing peacefully at the sage bushes.

Back at the cave, Jasper dumped me on the ground again and swearing under his breath, went to pack his things into his saddlebags. I decided not to speak, he already seemed very angry, and I didn't feel like getting hit by a six-foot-something lawman. My shoulder already hurt enough.

When he was ready, he grabbed my arm again and pulled me roughly to my feet, then marched me back down to the spring where he filled his canteens.

"Move," he barked pushing me back up the ravine.