She stared out over the vast expanse of land, and then to the sky above. Though it was clear, there was a chill in the air. Winter was coming.
Tears welled in Maria's dark eyes—she wouldn't see it, the mountains, or her lover.
The breeze caught her dress, belling it out—causing her weight to sway dangerously.
Her bare toes inched involuntarily closer to the edge of the rickety stool. The thick branch above her groaned.
Blinking away her tears, the two men standing before her came back into focus. She could see the sweat on their skin.
"Ustedes cerdos irán al infierno!!" Her words caught in her throat, courtesy of the sturdy lasso constricting it.
"She said we's goin' ta hell."
The fat one pointed an ugly, gnarled finger at her. "Hell is for sinners—an' that includes horse thieves!"
She spat, but neither had time to react to her slight. A crack sent both men scrambling.
Hoofbeats closed in behind Maria, and just as the stool tipped, an arm encircled her waist.
Jane's scent washed over her senses along with a flood of relief.
The sixshooter barked twice more.
Satisfied, Jane holstered it and made quick work of the noose.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
YOU ARE READING
A Cold Moment
Historical FictionMaria knows a woman has to be ruthless to survive in the territories. Now that a particular deed has caught up with her, she may have found the end of her rope. Duodrabble - 200 words
