An Eye for an Eye13
"John?" Moira's voice was soft, tremulous as emotions and uncertainty seized her. John was staring at her, surprise on his handsome face and Moira feared the very worst reaction. Instead a slow smile curved his full, perfect lips and warmth filled his beautiful green eyes. He drew her into his arms, into a hug as he kissed her brow.
"Moira. My Moira," he said quietly. "It will be all right, I promise you, sweetheart. I will take care of you. We'll get married and you will lack for nothing and—"
"No!" Moira shoved free of his embrace, glaring at him. "I won't marry you, John! We can't just get married because I am with child now! We can't—"
"We can, Moy. I was gonna ask you anyway, even before you told me about the baby." His gaze moved down to her waist then up to her eyes.
"You, you were?" she asked, not quite believing him. Tears sparkled in her brown eyes.
"Yes," he confirmed. He leaned close and kissed her lips. "I love you, Moy. And now I love you even more, both of you, and I will move heaven and earth to keep both of you safe and mine."
"I…okay," she relented, assuaged by his determination and love. "You…you are all right with this?"
"What? Of course I am! You are going to have my child, Moira!" He smiled broadly and drew her into his arms again. "And you are sure you are all right? I mean physically."
"Yes…I am. I…"
He gently freed her and kissed her again. "Moira." He ran his fingers along her bruised face. "If, if anything had happened to you…to either of you…" His gaze dropped to her abdomen again and a fierce protectiveness filled his eyes.
Moira caught his hand, kissing it. "I'm fine, John. We're fine. We…I…I can't quite get used to that."
He smiled, meeting her gaze. "You will, as will I. Wow…a little me is on the way."
She laughed softly. "Oh John!" She hugged him, but drew back, frowning. "What will people say? I mean…I mean…"
"They'll say we're sleeping together, that's what they'll say."
"John!" She hit his arm. "You know what I mean!"
"Doesn't matter. We'll get hitched mighty soon, before that bun in the oven is visible."
"John!"
"It will be all right, Moira. As long as we are together it will be all right, ya hear? Don't go fretting over the townsfolk and all."
"But they—"
"Don't care. They can't touch us, Moy, especially when we get hitched. The—"
A violent knocking interrupted John's assurances. Moira gasped in alarm. John jumped to his feet. "Sheriff! Sheriff Sheppard! You best come to town now! Sheriff!"
"Shit, er, shoot. Stay right here, Moy." John strode out of the bedroom. He reached the front door as the knocking had resumed. He opened the door, glaring. "What?" he snarled.
A teenage boy stood, so nervous he was shaking in his boots. His eyes widened seeing the older man's ire. "There's been a murder! In the saloon! Doc Beckett sent me here to fetch ya!"
"What murder? Who?" John asked.
"Some new fella! They're gonna lynch the guy who done it if you don't come quick!"
"What guy?"
"That tracker fella! Come quick, sheriff!"
"Fuck," John muttered. "Get back to town. I'm on my way! Damn it!"
"John?"
John turned. Moira was standing in the doorway to the parlor, appearing deliciously unkempt. He stepped to her, touched her arm. "I don't know what has happened but I—"
"Go. I'll be fine. I will wrap up your dinner after I eat mine."
"All right. Thanks, Moy." He kissed her. "You sure you're okay?"
"Yes, I am now. Go on, John. Go save your friend. I love you."
He smiled. "I love you too, and little Johnny junior. I'll be back as soon as I can."
Moira frowned, touching her abdomen. "Johnny junior?" she repeated in amusement.
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John fired his rifle. The shot was loud and the angry mob froze in their march from the bar. "What the hell is going on here?" he bellowed.
"John, John, thank God!" Rodney rushed to the sheriff. "I tried to reason with them but they won't listen to me! Since I am not from these parts they are dubious of my opinions and any scientific evidence I could provide!"
"Ya think?" Rodney was sporting a black eye. John glowered and stepped to the crowd. They parted, sullen but defiant. In their midst stood Ronon. The man was furious, bloody but not cowed, not at all. He had been stripped of his weapons. "What the hell is going on here?" John repeated.
"We're doin' your job, sheriff, that's what's goin' on here! He kilt a man!" The townsman pointed a finger at Ronon.
"It wasn't a man!" Ronon retorted.
"You mean that Ford fella is here?" John asked, quickly assessing the situation. Rodney was frantically nodding.
"Was here," Ronon corrected.
"Where is he now?" John asked, inwardly sighing.
"Doc Beckett's got him on the table, but it's a clear case of cold-blooded murder!" The crowd's voice rose in agreement.
"What happened, exactly? No!" John forestalled the man. He looked round and spotted Elizabeth. "Lizzie?"
Elizabeth smiled at him, but grew somber. "It was very quick, sheriff. This man was jes havin' a drink at the bar and he was kinda loud, but they all are. Then walks in that fella and jes shoots him."
"It wasn't quite like that!" Rodney objected, casting a scurrilous gaze at the prostitute. "That man was having a drink and becoming quite boisterous, talking about his missing companions and all. Mr. Dex recognized him and tried to escort him out of the saloon but there was an altercation and—"
"He done shot him dead!" a voice shouted. The crowd grew angry and Ronon glared back at them, defiant.
"And I'd do it again 'cause he ain't human!"
"Shut up, Dex!" John ordered. "Leave him!" John stepped to his friend. "I'm taking him into custody until we get to the bottom of this! Let's go." John took his arm and led him away from the crowd.
"There's no mystery, Sheppard! He done shot him dead, in cold blood!"
"He's spouting nonsense about wendigos and cannibals and other—"
"Sheriff, he kilt a man!"
"Sheriff, he admitted it and we saw him do it!"
John ignored the voices clamoring at him. He led his friend to the sheriff's office, angry. One moment he was finding out that his sweetheart was carrying his child; the next he had to head off an angry mob intent on hanging his friend for murder. "You shot this fella?"
"Yep. He's not human! I swear to you he's not!" Ronon insisted, entering the cell. He watched John lock the door. "Do what you must, but I just saved this damn town!"
John shook his head and exited the building.
He only hoped he could save his friend.