Page 53 of Branded

I roll my eyes, but Sebastian is already moving, the main group following him, splitting off as planned to surround the cattle and those guarding them. I sit on Duchess in the darkness with Miguel, my heart in my throat, watching shapes move through the night.

My eyes track Sebastian on Cisco and I let out a shaky breath. I’m nervous—no, I’m scared for him. Don’t do anything stupid, I think, surprised by how much I mean it. Don’t die.

“Ma’am,” Miguel says quietly beside me. “We should move back. Put distance between them and us.” Miguel barely gets the words out, and the first shot cracks through the night. Then all hell breaks loose.

Muzzle flashes light up the darkness like lightning. Gunfire explodes from multiple directions. Horses scream, men shout and I watch Sebastian’s group scatter as bullets tear through the space they occupied seconds before.

“Go!” Miguel grabs Duchess’s reins. “We go now!”

But I yank them free, already urging Duchess forward instead of back. Sebastian is down there, pinned down, taking fire from what looks like way more than four or five men. “Like fuck that man’s going to die on me,” I shout back at Miguel.

“Mrs. Drake, no!”

I ignore him, and instead kick Duchess into a gallop and ride straight into the chaos. Stupid, yes. Suicidal, absolutely. But I can’t just sit here while Sebastian gets himself killed.

I come in from the side, staying low in the saddle like my father taught me. My heart is hammering in my chest and I think I’m forgetting to breathe. I spot him behind a rocky outcrop, rifle up, returning fire. Pete is beside him, and Jackson is somewhere to the east based on the muzzle flashes.

A figure emerges from the darkness, rifle raised, aiming at Sebastian’s position. Not one of ours, and he hasn’t seen me yet.

I don’t think. I just pull the mare hard right and gallop straight at him, and Duchess, bless her aggressive heart, doesn’t hesitate. Twelve hundred pounds of American Quarter Horse slams into the man at a full gallop, sending him flying. His rifle discharges into the air as he goes down.

“Lennox!” Sebastian’s roar carries over the gunfire. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Saving your ass!” I yell as I wheel Duchess around, looking for more threats.

More shots fly through the air and a bullet whizzes past my head so close I feel the displacement of air. I duck instinctively, and out of nowhere Sebastian is there, grabbing Duchess’s bridle, pulling us toward the rocks with him.

“Are you insane?” His face is barely visible in the darkness as he hauls me off my horse. “I told you to stay back!”

“And I told you this was a bad idea, but here we are! They were waiting for us, Sebastian. They knew we’d come!”

Another volley of shots forces us lower. I can hear cattle stampeding now, panicked by the gunfire. All our stolen animals, plus probably some of the Marshalls’, thundering off into the darkness.

“We need to get out of here,” Pete hollers, ejecting an empty magazine and slamming in a fresh one. “We’re outnumbered and outgunned. This is a setup.”

“Where’s Nathaniel and Dad?” Sebastian is scanning the darkness, trying to account for his people.

A radio crackles on Pete’s belt—Nathaniel’s voice, tight with urgency: “West flank under heavy fire. Dad took one in the shoulder. We’re pulling back. All units fall back to the boundary!”

Sebastian’s face turns white. “Fuck.”

“Go!” I shove at his shoulder, breaking him out of whatever is going through his head. “Get to your father. Pete and I will cover.”

“You don’t even have a gun.”

“Then give me one. I promise I won’t use it on you for dragging me into this shit.” My words are filled with more meaning than just this moment.

He stares at me for a split second, then pulls the pistol from his belt and shoves it into my hands. “You know how to use this?”

“I grew up on a ranch. Yes, I know how to use it.”

Sebastian reaches out and he works his fingers into my hair and pulls me roughly to him before kissing me hard and deep. Pete clears his throat. Sebastian pulls away and whispers, “Don’t get killed.”

I don’t have time to reply; he’s already moving, whistling for Cisco, who appears out of the chaos. He swings up and is gone, galloping west toward where his father is pinned down. “You too,” I whisper as I watch him ride away.

Pete moves beside me, his weathered face grim in the low light of the new moon. “Think you can actually hit anything with that?”

“Let’s hope so.” I check the magazine like my oldest brother taught me years ago. Fully loaded. Safety off. “Because I think we’ve got company.”