Elliott Marston froze. He waited for further instructions.
"Put those hands up where I can see them. Back away from the door."
Marston obeyed slowly and turned around. And blinked in surprise.
The gunman was a youth, not much more than a boy. Large blue eyes watched warily and a lock of blond hair fell over his brow. But there was nothing boyish about the weapon in his hand or the confidence with which he held it.
"Now you just go right back downstairs and wait in the parlour for somebody else." The boy pointed to the stairs with a quick jerk of the gun. "There's nothing in that room you want."
"I have reason to believe otherwise." Marston looked over the boy's head. "Don't worry. I can handle this."
The young gunman turned his head and looked over his shoulder. Immediately Marston reached for his arm, gave his wrist a fierce twist and caught the gun as it fell from the boy's grasp. Then he backed up.
"OWWW!" It was a piercing yelp. Rubbing the injured limb with his other hand, the boy looked up through eyes swimming with tears. "What did you go and do that for?"
The door opened suddenly and Sam appeared in the hall. Her gaze swept from the boy to Marston and back again. "Are you all right?" Then she whirled on her employer. "What did you do to him?"
"I taught him that it's not nice to point guns at people." He felt his patience start to slip. "Why don't you introduce us?"
"He was about to go into Dad's room." The boy was glaring at him with great dislike from a safe position behind Sam. "I stopped him." A brief smile flickered across his face. "You should have seen him jump when I stuck the gun in his back."
Sam ignored this observation. "Mr. Marston, this is my brother Liam." Her tone was formal and precise. "Liam, this is Mr. Marston, the man I work for."
Liam looked Marston over with a critical eye. The rancher reciprocated. Aside from sharing the same color of hair and eyes, the two siblings were not at all similar. The boy was husky and his complexion was ruddier than Sam's with freckles sprinkled over his nose and cheeks.
The weight of the gun in his hand reminded him of their shared familiarity with weapons. An interesting family, he thought. He wondered if his children would inherit the same skill from her.
"I'm sorry I've kept you waiting, sir." The smile she directed at him was not reflected in her eyes. "If you'll just go back to the parlor, I'll be down soon."
Marston met her gaze for a moment. "No."
Her face threatened to crumple; she was blinking rapidly and her lip trembled. "Please."
He put his hand on her shoulder. "Sam, whatever it is, I can help. Please trust me -"
A sharp pain in his leg interrupted him. The boy had kicked him. "Let her go!"
"Liam, don't do that!" Sam found a new outlet for her feelings. "This doesn't concern you!"
"Yes it does! You always treat me like a kid!" Scowling aggressively, Liam didn't take his eyes off Marston. "I'm almost grown up. And if it concerns the family, it concerns me."
A door opened down the hall and a female head popped out of a room. "What's going on? Is it time for work yet?"
Sam muttered something under her breath and pulled the two males into the room behind her. She shut the door firmly and sagged against it, looking up at Marston with an angry expression.
He smiled at her and then looked around. It was quite crowded. A large bed took up most of the far wall; a man was lying on it under several blankets despite the warmth of the evening. A truckle bed had been rolled into the middle of the room and prepared for the night.
Aside from Liam, now sitting on a chair in the corner and still glaring at him, the room also contained two young boys. One stood beside the prone man, staring at the newcomer by the door. The youngest stood in his nightshirt, his thumb in his mouth. As Marston watched, he ran across the room to Sam and burrowed his head into her side.
"Mr. Marston, this is my brother Niall." The boy beside the bed nodded once. "And this is Conn." She ruffled the hair of the child beside her. He shook his head and didn't look up. "And this is my father, Sam Flanagan. I think I explained to you that he stays in bed."
Marston walked across the room. Niall stood his ground then stepped back at the last moment. The rancher looked down at the bed and stretched out his hand.
The man in the bed was haggard and emaciated. His breath came in shallow gasps, his chest rising and falling quickly in a way that was almost painful to watch. His skin was stretched tightly over his cheekbones and nose. His face was pulled down on one side and saliva ran from the corner of his mouth. A faint aroma of medicine and soap pervaded the air.
Only when Marston looked at his eyes, did he see the any sign of the man who once inhabited the tall body, now gone forever. The eyes were clear and blue, and the gaze was focussed and sharp as it examined the newcomer.
For a long moment the two men gazed at each other.
"Put those hands up where I can see them. Back away from the door."
Marston obeyed slowly and turned around. And blinked in surprise.
The gunman was a youth, not much more than a boy. Large blue eyes watched warily and a lock of blond hair fell over his brow. But there was nothing boyish about the weapon in his hand or the confidence with which he held it.
"Now you just go right back downstairs and wait in the parlour for somebody else." The boy pointed to the stairs with a quick jerk of the gun. "There's nothing in that room you want."
"I have reason to believe otherwise." Marston looked over the boy's head. "Don't worry. I can handle this."
The young gunman turned his head and looked over his shoulder. Immediately Marston reached for his arm, gave his wrist a fierce twist and caught the gun as it fell from the boy's grasp. Then he backed up.
"OWWW!" It was a piercing yelp. Rubbing the injured limb with his other hand, the boy looked up through eyes swimming with tears. "What did you go and do that for?"
The door opened suddenly and Sam appeared in the hall. Her gaze swept from the boy to Marston and back again. "Are you all right?" Then she whirled on her employer. "What did you do to him?"
"I taught him that it's not nice to point guns at people." He felt his patience start to slip. "Why don't you introduce us?"
"He was about to go into Dad's room." The boy was glaring at him with great dislike from a safe position behind Sam. "I stopped him." A brief smile flickered across his face. "You should have seen him jump when I stuck the gun in his back."
Sam ignored this observation. "Mr. Marston, this is my brother Liam." Her tone was formal and precise. "Liam, this is Mr. Marston, the man I work for."
Liam looked Marston over with a critical eye. The rancher reciprocated. Aside from sharing the same color of hair and eyes, the two siblings were not at all similar. The boy was husky and his complexion was ruddier than Sam's with freckles sprinkled over his nose and cheeks.
The weight of the gun in his hand reminded him of their shared familiarity with weapons. An interesting family, he thought. He wondered if his children would inherit the same skill from her.
"I'm sorry I've kept you waiting, sir." The smile she directed at him was not reflected in her eyes. "If you'll just go back to the parlor, I'll be down soon."
Marston met her gaze for a moment. "No."
Her face threatened to crumple; she was blinking rapidly and her lip trembled. "Please."
He put his hand on her shoulder. "Sam, whatever it is, I can help. Please trust me -"
A sharp pain in his leg interrupted him. The boy had kicked him. "Let her go!"
"Liam, don't do that!" Sam found a new outlet for her feelings. "This doesn't concern you!"
"Yes it does! You always treat me like a kid!" Scowling aggressively, Liam didn't take his eyes off Marston. "I'm almost grown up. And if it concerns the family, it concerns me."
A door opened down the hall and a female head popped out of a room. "What's going on? Is it time for work yet?"
Sam muttered something under her breath and pulled the two males into the room behind her. She shut the door firmly and sagged against it, looking up at Marston with an angry expression.
He smiled at her and then looked around. It was quite crowded. A large bed took up most of the far wall; a man was lying on it under several blankets despite the warmth of the evening. A truckle bed had been rolled into the middle of the room and prepared for the night.
Aside from Liam, now sitting on a chair in the corner and still glaring at him, the room also contained two young boys. One stood beside the prone man, staring at the newcomer by the door. The youngest stood in his nightshirt, his thumb in his mouth. As Marston watched, he ran across the room to Sam and burrowed his head into her side.
"Mr. Marston, this is my brother Niall." The boy beside the bed nodded once. "And this is Conn." She ruffled the hair of the child beside her. He shook his head and didn't look up. "And this is my father, Sam Flanagan. I think I explained to you that he stays in bed."
Marston walked across the room. Niall stood his ground then stepped back at the last moment. The rancher looked down at the bed and stretched out his hand.
The man in the bed was haggard and emaciated. His breath came in shallow gasps, his chest rising and falling quickly in a way that was almost painful to watch. His skin was stretched tightly over his cheekbones and nose. His face was pulled down on one side and saliva ran from the corner of his mouth. A faint aroma of medicine and soap pervaded the air.
Only when Marston looked at his eyes, did he see the any sign of the man who once inhabited the tall body, now gone forever. The eyes were clear and blue, and the gaze was focussed and sharp as it examined the newcomer.
For a long moment the two men gazed at each other.