Page 32 of More than Words Can Say

The man’s eyes widened, then narrowed into angry slits as he jerked Rosalind closer to his side. “Back off, buddy. I saw her fir—”

Zach grabbed the man’s arm and yanked him away from Rosalind. The card he’d been holding fluttered to the ground as he brought up a fist to defend himself. He jabbed. Zach dodged.

Rosalind dropped to the ground between them, and Zach nearly stepped on her hand. “Get out of the way, Rosalind.”

But she didn’t. Not until her flailing in the dirt produced the fallen card. Worried about knocking her head with his knee, Zach looked down, giving his opponent an opening.

The man’s fist connected with Zach’s jaw, snapping his head sideways. Rosalind gasped and finally scooted out of the way. Icy calm penetrated Zach’s veins. With his sister-in-law out of the equation, he could give his full attention to his assailant.

The man retreated a step, but not far enough. Zach swung. His knuckles collided with the man’s cheekbone with satisfying solidness. The fellow staggered backward until he bumped up against the butcher shop wall. Zach advanced, grabbed his shirtfront, and pinned him there.

“Go fetch the marshal, Rosalind.”

The man made no move to strike another blow, but he glared at Zach belligerently. “You laid hands on me first, mister.”

Zach twisted the cotton shirt a notch tighter in his fist. “You laid hands on the lady first, mister. Around here we don’t take kindly to brutes forcing innocent young women into alleys and assaulting them.”

“Innocent? Ha!” The man practically spat the words. “She might be female, but she sure ain’t innocent. One look at that picture she crawled through the dirt for will tell you that much.” He smirked, and a vile laugh escaped his throat. “Hope you weren’t planning on buying that particular cow. She’s probably been givin’ her milk away for free to gents all over the county. Right under your nose too.”

Zach’s hands were full of the man’s shirt, so he lifted him a few inches off the ground and head-butted him right in the face.

“Ow!” Blood spurted from the man’s nose. Good. Maybe the idiot would shut up now.

A handful of passersby were gathering at the end of the alley and peering in. Rosalind must have seen them too, for she started backpedaling.

“Let him go,” she said, her voice quiet and quivering.

Zach twisted to look at her. Pale face. Wide, shimmering eyes. White knuckles gripping that confounded card.

“Please, Zach. Just let him go.”

Zach frowned. The maggot deserved jail time, or at the very least a few more blows to the head. Or the groin. That would be more fitting for someone who said such vile things about a girl barely old enough to wear long skirts.

Unfortunately, Zach couldn’t mete out the appropriate punishment without becoming guilty of assault himself, now that the man was subdued. So, with a sideways shove, Zach released him, taking what satisfaction he could from the blood dripping down the fellow’s face.

“Get out of here,” he muttered, silently daring the slimy toad to take another shot at him. One swing, and Zach would be justified in smacking him into the ground.

Unfortunately, his adversary seemed to have come to the same conclusion and opted for self-preservation. After stumbling a couple steps, he righted himself, rubbed the blood from his mouth and nose with a swipe of his sleeve, and shot a scalding glare at Zach that worried him about as much as a dart from an ant’s peashooter. Then, with a sarcastic tip of his hat to Rosalind and a smirk begging to be wiped off his face by Zach’s fist, the man turned and strolled away.

“You all right?” Zach asked, pivoting to face his sister-in-law.

She nodded, but she looked about as all right as a kicked puppy.

He reached a hand toward her. “Here, let me—”

“No!” She covered the card she held with both hands, pressed it to her chest, and twisted away from him.

“—take your basket,” he finished, approaching her with the same care one would exude near a skittish mare. His hand closed around the basket handle and gently lifted the weight off her arm. “I ain’t got no interest in relieving you of anything else.”

As soon as she realized her precious card was safe from prying eyes, everything about her drooped. Her shoulders sagged, and her arms loosened, allowing him to collect the shopping basket from her. But her defenses crumbled as well, for her eyes started leaking and her entire body shook.

Not tears. Please, Lord. Anything but tears.

A messy, gasping sob was the answer to that prayer.

Panic pumped blood double-time through his veins. He scanned the alley for help and found nothing but curious onlookers who didn’t need to be sticking their noses in Rosalind’s private business.

Not having a clue what to do to make the tears stop, he opted for the one thing he could figure out—how to protect her privacy.