"Get off me!" She gasped, clinging desperately to the whip. He looked angry enough to use it on her.
"Give me that whip. Don't you ever try to use one of those on me again." His face was over hers, his body crushing her into the sand.
She tried to bring a knee into his groin, but he dodged in anticipation. His strong fingers pried the whip from her hand and he tossed it away.
From behind them a voice spoke.
"All right, Bordeaux. Get up."
The words were spoken softly, but the gun in Davis' hand was convincing.
Bordeaux swore. "It's not what it looks like, Davis."
"We'll discuss that later. Now get away from her."
Bordeaux pushed to his feet and moved away from her, careful not to make any sudden movements that might be misinterpreted.
Cassie rolled over and stood, dusting sand from her clothes. She snatched the whip from the ground and glared at Bordeaux.
Davis kept his eyes and gun on Bordeaux.
"What happened, Cassie."
She bit her lower lip. Much as she was tempted to punish him, Bordeaux wasn't guilty of what Davis thought.
She tossed her head. "He wasn't trying to force himself on me. He was trying to take the whip from me."
Davis grunted and holstered his gun. "Sorry, Bordeaux."
He tipped his hat at Cassie, a glint of humor in his eyes. "As you were."
With that, he pivoted on one heal and walked away.
Bordeaux picked his hat off the ground and dusted himself off. He gave her a wry smile. "I guess I should say thanks."
"For what?" She gritted out sharply.
"For telling the truth." His smile became saturnine. "And don't tell me nothing else occurred to you."
"You would know all about lying." She shot back, kicking sand in his direction.
"I wasn't lying, I just wasn't telling everything."
She glared at him. "You weren't telling anything."
"I was going to tell you when we got to Ashley."
"Why wait?"
He shrugged. "Why get in a rush to ruin your trip?"
When she didn't respond he continued. "He made a mistake, Cassie. Haven't you ever made a mistake? He's sorry..."
"Sorry!" She broke in. "Now is a convenient time for him to be sorry. I almost have the ranch paid off. Sure, he's sorry."
"Everybody makes mistakes."
"So you said." She threw her blanket under the wagon. "He killed Mom, just the same as if he'd plunged a knife into her heart. He left us kids to fend for ourselves and now he thinks he can come back and pick up where he left off. I hate him and I'm not going back!"