Give My Love to Rose(1st in Outlaw Series)

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Six

Marston's eyes flew open when the sound of thundering hooves reached his ears over the noise of the cheering crowd. His lungs were burning at this point and his vision was blurry but there was no mistaking the large black bodies barreling his direction.

A stampede of cattle heading straight for the gallows and the crowd gathered around them.

Panicked cries replaced the cheering. The onlookers began to flee in all directions. Those on the gallows not attached to a rope, leapt down and ran for their lives.

Stupid cows.

Now Marston five minutes of fame were going to be forgotten and no one was going to even see him strangle to death—or maybe he wouldn't strangle. Maybe a cattle horn would finish him off before lack of oxygen did. They were getting closer and within the next twenty or thirty seconds he was going to be gouged to death or trampled when they barreled over the gallows.

It seemed that old Langston had a sense of humor. The ride wasn't over yet. It was going to end when a two foot horn went up his ass.

Marston began fighting against the ropes at his neck and wrists with all his might but it was useless. He was stuck fast and his consciousness was beginning to fade.

"How about we get you down from there?" Marston heard a familiar voice behind him say. He turned to see Duke standing there with a grin on his weather worn face as he cut the rope Marston was hanging from.

Duke's arms instantly wrapped around Marston went the rope broke free to keep the man from crashing to the ground. Marston cried out with pain as Duke's fingers dug into his festering back. The gulps of air suddenly entering his lungs made him dizzy and Marston was too weak to offer much help but somehow managed to find himself atop Duke's horse.

"Hang on to me," Duke warned, as he slid in front of Marston.

Marston clung to Duke and they managed to get away from the gallows and the chaos just before thousands of pounds of cattle went careening into them, shattering the rickety structure and turning it to nothing but splinters.

"Duke.. I can't escape," Marston warned, barely holding onto consciousness as he held on tight to his friend. His lungs were aching and his head was spinning.

"Why the hell not?" Duke demanded. "I went through a lot of trouble to get you free."

"He'll come after...Rose.." Marston's head drooped lower as his shoulders sagged.

"I already took care of that, old friend," Duke assured him. "Marston Jacobs is a dead man. Now quit your bitchin' and stay on the horse. I'm gonna take you to old Snelly and she'll fix you right up."

Marston grunted. Old Snelly was a bent and crooked old woman who was frank and harsh and looked worse than she smelled. She'd been patching up outlaws for years—probably since the Mayflower had landed on the shores of the New World.

"I'll probably die before we get there," Marston warned.

Duke chuckled. "Probably will. But I'll try to get you there just the same."

***

Marston's dreams of Rose were unpleasantly interrupted by the strong scent of rotten eggs. What the hell was that smell?

He was lying on his side and he shifted slightly before opening his eyes and letting out a yell that nearly shook the thin glass windows.

The face that was an inch from his own was what little children's nightmares were made of. The old woman's wrinkles had wrinkles and they cut through her sun-leathered skin like scars. Her blue eyes were yellowed with age and they sunk deep back into her head. Her nose was large, bulbous and covered in age spots. A toothless grin revealed blackened gums and a bit of drool hanging off a paper-thin lip.