A New House at Old Mesa Praire
Copyright© 2025 by Ayra Atkinson
Chapter 6
Western Sex Story: Chapter 6 - Two pairs, a mothers and sons, struggle amidst the cruelty of a city that oppresses them. Although not yet adult males, the two sons struggle together to save their mother from the hardships of their dirty jobs.
Caution: This Western Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/Fa Teenagers Slavery Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction War Western Incest Mother Son Anal Sex Porn Theatre Prostitution
The ride to Old Mesa was a blur, the wind tearing at their clothes as they pushed their horses to their limits. The land stretched out before them, a canvas of reds and oranges that seemed to pulse with the rhythm of their pounding hearts. The Dusty Creek town grew smaller and smaller in the distance, Rachel’s brothel a fading memory of the horrors they had left behind.
As they approached the mansion, the silhouette of Mrs. Flynn and Mrs. Puckett stood out against the early morning sky, their figures framed by the burnt-orange light of the rising sun. They had been waiting anxiously, their eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of their return. The sight of the two young men, dusty and weary but unbowed, brought a flood of relief to their faces. They rushed forward, their arms open wide, their smiles a beacon of hope in the harsh landscape.
Jake’s mother, frail and weak from her time in captivity, clung to him like a lifeline, her eyes searching his face for reassurance. Mrs. Flynn, her own fiery spirit undiminished, took the gold sack from him and cradled it to her chest, her eyes shining with a mix of gratitude and determination. “You did it,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.
Mrs. Puckett looked up at her son with eyes that had seen too much. Her face was a map of wrinkles, etched with the pain of her past, but the corners of her mouth began to turn upwards as Jake gently placed the deed in her trembling hands. “You’re free, Mama,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “The brothel’s no longer got a hold on you.”
Tears spilled down Mrs. Puckett’s cheeks as she crumpled the paper into a tight ball and threw it to the ground. Then she did something she hadn’t done in years—she hugged and kiss her son, her frail body clinging to him with the desperation of a drowning woman grasping for a rope. Jake felt the weight of her suffering, the years of abuse and degradation, but also the warmth of a love that had never wavered. He held her tightly, feeling her shudder with sobs that seemed to come from the very core of her being.
Mrs. Flynn watched the tender scene unfold, her own heart swelling with pride. She stepped forward, her eyes shining with unshed tears, and wrapped her arms around Billy. “You did it,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion. “You brought her back to us.” Billy felt the warmth of her embrace, the fiery passion of her spirit pressing against him. Her kiss was like a brand, searing the memory of their victory into his soul. He knew that Rachel would not forget this slight easily, but for now, they had won a small battle in the larger war for freedom.
The rebels returned to Old Mesa with their prize, the gold and the deed to Mrs. Puckett’s freedom. The town was still, the early morning light casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets. The mansion’s grandeur seemed to shimmer in the dawn’s embrace, a stark contrast to the brothel’s fading opulence.
THE END.
But the story isn’t over. The rebels’ victory was but a single page in the saga of their fight against Rachel’s tyranny. With Mrs. Puckett’s freedom secured and Rachel’s network compromised, a new chapter began.
One morning, as the sun climbed over the Old Mesa horizon, the boys found themselves standing before the town’s sheriff, Lloyd ‘Lone Rider’ Patton. His office was a dusty relic of justice, the walls adorned with faded wanted posters and a single, unlit lamp swinging lazily from the ceiling. Patton’s eyes were sharp and alert, his hand never far from his holstered Colt. They had come to him seeking an alliance, their mission too great to undertake alone.
“Mr. Hull told me about your little ... escapade,” Patton said, his voice gruff yet measured. His eyes flicked to the gold sack on the desk, then back to Billy and Jake. “I reckon you two have got more sand than I thought.” His words were tinged with something they hadn’t expected—respect.
Billy’s voice was steady. “We’ve come to ask for your help, Sheriff.”
Patton leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving Billy’s face. “And what makes you think I’m the man you want on your side?”
Billy’s reply was swift and sure. “We know about Lewis,” he said, his voice low and even. “We know the kind of man he is, and we know the kind of business he runs with your ... tolerance. We’ve dealt with him, and we have his hat as a token of our meeting.”
The sheriff’s eyes narrowed, his hand resting on his desk. “That’s a serious claim, son.”
Billy nodded, his expression unwavering. “We’ve seen the kind of men Rachel attracts, Sheriff. And we’ve seen the damage they do.”
Patton’s gaze grew distant, his hand absently stroking his mustache. He sighed heavily, his eyes misting over as he spoke. “You’re talkin’ ‘bout Lewis, I reckon. That animal’s been a thorn in my side for longer than I care to remember.” His voice grew quiet, almost a whisper. “You see, my friends and I, we were once like you—trying to do what’s right. We chased him down once, years ago, after he’d done some real dirty work. We were close, so close we could almost taste victory. But this animal ... he got to us. He got to my friends. And now,” his voice hardened, “now all that’s left of them is a shallow grave outside of town.”
The room grew tense, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall. “Every sheriff in every town knows of Lewis,” Patton continued, his eyes never leaving Billy’s. “He’s like an eel—slippery and always one step ahead. But he’s got a taste for blood and gold that’ll be the death of him, if it isn’t the rope first.”
Jake stepped forward, his eyes blazing with anger. “He’s done it again, Sheriff,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion. “He hijacked the Frailsprings stagecoach. Killed all the men and took the women to sell to Madam Rachel.”
Patton’s hand tightened on his mustache, his eyes snapping into focus. “Madam Rachel,” he repeated, his voice heavy with disdain. “The woman’s a blight on this town, but she’s got more power than any one person should have.”
Billy nodded, the gravity of their situation weighing on him. “We know, Sheriff,” he said. “That’s why we need your help.”
Patton leaned forward, his gaze sharp and piercing. “You think Rachel’s operation will just stop because you’ve got her number?” he said, a hint of skepticism in his voice. “That woman’s got more lives than a cat and more claws than a mountain lion.”
Billy’s jaw set in determination. “We know it’s not over, Sheriff,” he said. “But we’re not just looking to put a stop to her business. We’re looking to free the women she’s got locked up in that cesspool of a brothel.”
Patton’s expression softened, a glimmer of understanding passing over his features. “A noble cause, indeed,” he murmured. “But Rachel’s got her claws deep in that town. She’s got more men and more firepower than we do.”
Sheriff Patton looked at Billy and Jake, his eyes steely with resolve. “You’ve got yourself a promise,” he said firmly. “As long as I’m breathing, Rachel’s operation won’t be setting foot in Old Mesa.” His words were like a cool breeze in the stifling room, bringing with them a glimmer of hope that seemed almost tangible. The boys looked at each other, their shoulders straightening, their eyes shining with newfound determination.
Patton stood up, his chair scraping against the floorboards with a sound that echoed through the tense silence. “We’ll get Lewis,” he said, his hand extending towards the gold sack. “But first, we’re gonna need to get organized. We can’t just ride out there and expect to bring him back. We’ve got to be smart, cunning, like that snake he is.” His hand hovered over the map which Billy has given him, spread out on his desk, the route to town of Old Mesa marked with a crimson X.
Billy stepped up, pointing at the X with a calloused finger. “That’s where he keeps his loot,” he explained. “The hideout’s a day’s ride from here, but it’s well-guarded.” His voice was calm, but his eyes held the storm of a brewing battle. “We saw that he stores all his stolen goods there—gold, weapons, everything. If we can hit that, we’ll not only deal a blow to Rachel, but we’ll cut off his supply chain.”
Patton studied the map, his eyes tracing the path from Old Mesa to the distant X. “You’ve done well, Billy,” he said, his voice filled with a newfound respect. “But you’re forgetting something.” He tapped the map with a finger stained from years of smoking cheroots. “If you two have raid that place, Lewis won’t be going back there. He’ll find another hole to crawl into. We need to be ready for that.”
Jake nodded, his thoughts racing. “We need to track him down,” he said, his voice taut with urgency. “Find out where he’s hiding, who he’s working with.”
Patton nodded, stroking his mustache thoughtfully. “And we need to do it quickly,” he added. “Before he has a chance to regroup, before Rachel sends more of her dogs catching the innocents for her sex slaves.”
The sheriff turned to his desk and pulled out a tattered notebook, flipping through the pages. “I’ve got some intel,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “Some of my men have been keepin’ an eye on Rachel’s comings and goings. There’s a place, a few miles north of here, where she’s been known to store her ... merchandise. It’s not much, but it’s a start.”
The boys leaned in, eager for more information. “What kind of place is it?” Billy asked.
Patton’s gaze was unwavering. “It’s an old mining camp, abandoned since the gold dried up,” he said, his voice thick with disgust. “Girls brought in from all over, hoping to find work, a better life. Instead, they’re sent to the brothel, or worse.”
Billy’s jaw tightened at the thought. “Who own that place?”
Patton’s voice was grim. “Lady Marjorie ‘Boot-Licker’ Roy,” he spat out the name like it was poison. “A noble woman but she’s got a sadistic streak a mile wide and a tongue that could slice through steel.”
Billy’s eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you shut her down, then, sir?”
Patton’s sigh was like a desert wind, carrying with it the weight of years of frustration. “It’s complicated,” he said, his eyes never leaving Billy’s. “Boot-Lickerl’s got her place legalized by the government, a back-alley deal that lets her run her auction house for the highest bidder. She pays her taxes, keeps her nose clean—or at least, cleaner than some of the other establishments in this town.”
Jake’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You mean to tell us that the government’s okay with this?” he spat. “They’re just letting the auctioneer sell these poor women?”
Patton nodded, his expression grim. “It’s a sad truth, son,” he said, his eyes weary with the weight of his words.”Every town’s got its own auction house,” he explained, his voice heavy with resignation. “They’re all legalized by the town governments, for a price. They pay their taxes, keep their operations discreet, and in return, they’re left to do as they please.” He paused, letting the implications of his words sink in. “The government turns a blind eye to what goes on in those places, as long as the gold keeps flowing into their coffers. That’s is way our country foundation base under..., we call it, the Liberty.”
The office room grew quiet, the gravity of their conversation pressing down on them like the heat of a summer’s day. Billy and Jake exchanged a look, their determination to bring Rachel down stronger than ever. They knew that the battle ahead would be difficult, but the thought of the innocent lives at stake fueled their resolve.
“Lewis has been Rachel’s main supplier for years,” Patton continued, his eyes darkening. “With his band scattered and no way to replace them quickly, she’ll be desperate. And when Rachel gets desperate, she gets ... creative.” He paused, the unspoken horrors hanging in the air like a thick fog. “That’s why I’m certain she’ll come to Boot-Licker next,” he said finally. “They’ve got a ... business arrangement. Rachel gets her ‘girls’, and Boot-Licker gets a cut.”
Billy felt his fists clench at the thought of Rachel’s cold-hearted scheme, but he pushed aside his anger, focusing on the task at hand. “We need to hit both of them, Sheriff,” he said, his voice firm. “Take out Rachel’s supply and free those women before they’re sent to the brothel.”
Jake nodded in agreement, his eyes burning with a newfound sense of purpose. “We could do a heist,” he suggested, his voice a mix of excitement and trepidation. “Follow Rachel when she makes the purchase from Lady Roy, then hit her when she’s on her way back.”
Patton’s gaze flickered between them, his expression a careful mask. “A heist,” he repeated, tasting the word like a piece of bitter candy. “It’s a risky play, but it could work.” His eyes lit up with a glint of the same fire that burned in the boys’ souls. “If we can pull it off, Rachel will not only lose her goods, but her profits as well.”
He paused, then leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “But, Billy, Jake, I can’t do this alone. You two are just kids, and I’m a sheriff—I can’t be seen gallivanting around town like a bandit.” His hand squeezed Billy’s shoulder. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that, but this is a job for someone with more experience, someone who knows the ins and outs of these operations.”
With that, he led them into the back of the office, where two men sat in the cells, their faces etched with the harsh lines of lives lived on the wrong side of the law. One was tall, with a beard that looked like it hadn’t seen a razor in weeks, and eyes that seemed to look right through the bars. His name tag read Melvin ‘Hunter’ Christensen. The other was smaller, with a cruel sneer that made him look more dangerous than his size suggested. That one was Leroy ‘Merciless’ Stanley.
Patton stopped in front of the cells, his eyes locking with Billy and Jake’s. “You see these two?” he said, jerking his thumb towards the inmates. “They’ve got skills we could use.” He turned to the cell door and unlocked it with a heavy clank that echoed through the room. “Hunter, Merciless,” he called out. “You guys have make amesh in this town but you’re getting a chance to get out of here if you’ve got to do something for me first.”
The two men looked at each other, then at Patton, their expressions a mix of curiosity and suspicion. “What kind of deal are you offering?” the taller one, Hunter, asked, his voice gruff and weary.
Patton leaned against the bars, his eyes glinting in the flickering candlelight. “You two got caught fighting and wrecking a saloon,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “I can’t just let you walk, but I can offer you a way out of here that might just save some lives.” He paused, watching them closely. “Billy and Jake here need your help. They’re trying to shut down Rachel’s operation, free those women from her clutches.”
Hunter and Merciless exchanged a look, their expressions shifting from suspicion to interest. “We’ll do it but what’s the play?” Merciless asked, his eyes narrowing.
Patton leaned closer, the candlelight casting deep shadows on his face. “Here’s the deal,” he began, his voice low and intense. Patton laid out the plan with the precision of a seasoned military strategist. “You two will hit the carriage when Rachel makes her move,” he said. “We know she’s doing a shipment from Lady Roy auction tonight. You two will strike the cargo.” He tossed two guns to Hunter and Merciless, who caught them with a nod. “Free the women, get them to safety. The rest of us will deal with Rachel’s men. I’m sure, Rachel will get all her guards in her trade journey.”
The two thugs listened intently, their eyes darting between Patton and the boys. After five minutes of tense silence, they finally nodded in understanding. Patton reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a pair of bandanas. “Wear these,” he instructed, tossing them over the bars. “Keep your identities hidden.”
The bandanas fluttered through the air, landing at the feet of the two men. They picked them up and tied them around their faces, the fabric hiding their expressions but not the glint in their eyes. Billy and Jake felt a mix of fear and excitement. They knew these men were dangerous, but their anger towards Rachel and her regime was palpable.
The sheriff looked at them seriously. “You understand what you’re getting into?” he asked.
Hunter nodded, his eyes cold and focused. “We’ve seen worse,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “And for a chance to get back our freedom, we’re all in.”
Merciless, the smaller of the two, spun the gun in his hand, a sadistic smile playing on his lips. “And maybe a little payback for old times’ sake,” he added, his gaze flicking to Patton.
The sheriff studied them, his expression unreadable. “You do this right, you get your freedom,” he said, his voice as hard as nails. “But I expect more than just that. If you prove yourselves worthy, I’ll see to it that you’re placed as my deputies. Help me clean up this town, and we might just make a real difference.”
Without another word, the two men nodded, their eyes never leaving Patton’s. They knew the gravity of the situation—this was their ticket out of the hellhole they’d made for themselves, and they weren’t going to waste it.
Merciless was the first to stand, his movements swift and sure as he tucked the gun into his holster. “We’re with you,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “We’ll get those girls out, no matter what it takes.”
Hunter rose more slowly, his gaze lingering on the sheriff’s face before he spoke. “And we’ll do it your way,” he agreed, the words sounding almost foreign on his lips. “But we’re not just in for the gold.”
The five of them gathered outside the sherieff office. The sun casting long shadows across the dusty street. The horses, already saddled and waiting, snorted in the stillness of the night, sensing the urgency in the air. Billy and Jake looked at each other, a silent question passing between them, before they swung into their saddles alongside the two ex-cons.
Merciless and Hunter had agreed to join their cause, their past grievances fueling their willingness to help. The journey to the outskirt was tense, their thoughts racing as they rode through the quiet town. The cobblestone streets turned to dirt under their hooves as they left the safety of Old Mesa’s lights behind. The moon was high and full, casting a pale glow over the landscape, illuminating their path like a silver ribbon.
As they approached the abandoned mining camp, the air grew thick with anticipation and fear. The camp was eerily silent, the only sounds the wind blowing and the jangle of their horse’s tack. Billy and Jake shared a nervous glance, their hearts pounding in their chests. They knew the stakes were high, and failure wasn’t an option.
Patton had given them clear orders: watch the camp from afar and stay hidden among the trees. The abandoned mining camp loomed in the distance, a ghostly reminder of the greed that had once consumed the area. Billy and Jake, along with the reformed outlaws Merciless and Hunter, approached the area with a mix of excitement and trepidation. Their eyes scanned the horizon, searching for any sign of movement or danger.
As the sun climbed higher, they spotted a cloud of dust in the distance. It grew larger, and soon, the unmistakable silhouette of a carriage appeared, flanked by three horsemen. Rachel’s emblem—a crimson rose with a serpent coiled around its stem—was emblazoned on the side, glinting in the sunlight. The three guards, armed to the teeth, rode alongside, their expressions grim and vigilant.
The rebels boys’ hearts raced as they watched the carriage draw nearer, the rhythmic clop of hooves echoing through the deserted camp. They tensed, ready to spring into action. The carriage rolled to a stop in the center of the camp, and the guards dismounted, their eyes scanning the area for any sign of trouble. Billy and Jake remained hidden, their breaths shallow and their muscles taut, as they observed the scene unfold from their vantage point in the shadows of the trees.
Rachel herself emerged from the carriage, a heavy bag slung over her shoulder. The bag clinked with the sound of gold coins, a grim reminder of the lives she was buying and selling. Her eyes were cold, her smile calculating, as she stepped onto the dusty ground. She was dressed in a crimson dress that clung to her figure, the same color as the roses on her carriage, a stark contrast to the dull gray of the camp. She strode towards the largest building, once a bustling office for miners, now a silent sentinel of Rachel’s dark trade.
Billy and Jake held their breath, their eyes never leaving Rachel as she disappeared inside. The guards took up positions around the camp, their eyes scanning the perimeter, but the trees and shadows shielded the rebels well. The tension grew with each passing moment, the air thick with the scent of dust and anticipation.
Patton leaned in, his voice a mere whisper. “Keep quiet, and stay ready,” he instructed, his gaze intense. “We’ll strike when they come out.” The two young men nodded, their hands gripping their weapons tightly. They could feel the weight of the moment, the culmination of their weeks of planning and preparation. Rachel’s empire was about to take a significant blow, and they were the ones to deliver it.
As they waited, the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting an orange glow across the camp. The shadows grew longer, stretching out like the arms of the law reaching to embrace them. Rachel emerged from the building, her expression one of smug satisfaction. The bag she had carried in was nowhere to be seen.
“Take the girls to the carriage,” Rachel ordered her guards, her voice sharp and commanding. The two men, who had been watching the doorway, stepped aside to reveal a line of trembling women. They were young and old, dressed in rags, their eyes downcast and filled with fear. Billy’s stomach churned at the sight of them, and he knew that the moment to act had arrived.
As Rachel’s carriage rolled away, Billy and Jake signaled to Merciless and Hunter. They had agreed to wait until Rachel had completed her purchase and was returning to town. The element of surprise was their best weapon against Rachel’s entrenched power. With the carriage in view, the five of them kicked their horses into a gallop, their hooves thundering across the ground like the sound of an approaching storm.
Patton’s voice echoed as he rode. “Don’t ride too close to the carriage,” he’d warned. “We don’t want to spook the horses. Wait until you’re about halfway down the road, then make your move.” The words played like a mantra, guiding him through the dust and the heat. They had to be patient, had to wait for the perfect moment to strike. The lives of the women inside that carriage—depended on it.
Billy’s eyes remained fixed on Rachel’s carriage, his grip tightening on the reins of Mr. Hull’s horse. The animal, sensing his rider’s tension, pranced nervously. The wind whipped at their faces, carrying the distant sound of Rachel’s laughter. It was a taunt, a challenge, and it fueled his rage. Jake rode alongside him, his eyes equally determined. They had come so far, faced so much together, and Billy knew that this was the moment that would define their friendship, their future—everything.
The carriage grew closer, the plodding of its horses’ hooves growing louder with each passing second. Billy felt the anticipation coil in his gut like a tightly wound spring. This was it. The moment they had been waiting for. The moment when they could finally make a real impact in the fight against Rachel’s tyranny.
Patton’s voice was low, almost inaudible over the wind. “Take out the guards,” he murmured, his eyes on the three figures riding alongside the carriage. “But be careful not to harm the horses. We need them.”
Billy’s heart hammered in his chest as he drew his pistol. He had never shot a man before, but the thought of Rachel’s cruel grip tightening on Dusty Creek gave him strength. Jake mirrored his actions, their eyes meeting in silent understanding. This was for Rachel, for the town, for every person Rachel had hurt. They had to do this.
As the carriage grew closer, Billy could make out Rachel’s silhouette through the dust, her crimson dress fluttering like a bloody flag. He took aim at the nearest guard, his breathing slow and measured. The shot rang out, piercing the air, and the guard fell, his horse rearing in surprise. The other two guards whipped around, their eyes widening in shock.
Patton was already moving, firing his own gun and dropping another guards. “Hunter! Merciless! Chase them down!” he bellowed, his voice commanding and sure.
The two ex-cons didn’t need a second invitation. They spurred their horses forward, the animals responding to their urgency. The chase was on, a chaotic symphony of hooves and gunfire echoing through the desert. Rachel’s carriage lurched as the remaining guard fell, and the horses bolted, driven by fear and instinct.
The carriage skidded to a halt, the horses snorting and tossing their heads. Rachel’s silhouette was framed by the open door, her eyes wide with shock and fury as the dust settled. Merciless and Hunter approached, their faces hidden by bandanas, but the unmistakable glint of their guns spelled doom for any who dared oppose them.
Patton and the boys watched from afar, their hearts pounding in their chests. This was it—the moment they had been planning. The heist was in motion, and Rachel’s empire was about to crumble before their very eyes. Rachel’s carriage looked like a toy in the vast expanse of the desert, but the stakes couldn’t have been higher.
In the distance, Billy saw Merciless and Hunter close in on the carriage. The two former outlaws had agreed to help them for their own reasons—redemption, perhaps, or a chance at a life outside of Rachel’s shadow. The bandanas they wore were a silent declaration of unity, a symbol that they were all fighting for the same cause now.
The tension was palpable, Rachel’s silhouette frantically trying to control the spooked horses. From where they watched, Patton’s face was a mask of concentration, his eyes never leaving the scene. Billy felt his heart in his throat, the reality of what they were about to do crashing down on him.
As Merciless and Hunter approached the carriage, Rachel’s voice, sharp as a whip, cracked through the air. “You fools! You’re all dead!” she spat, her voice trembling with fear and anger.
Patton watched with a grim satisfaction as the two men ignored Rachel’s threats and began to coax the terrified women from the carriage. Their gentle hands and soothing whispers were a stark contrast to the harshness they had known under Rachel’s regime. Each step they took toward freedom was a victory, a small but significant rebellion against the tyranny that had ruled Dusty Creek.
The women emerged, some stumbling and others running, their eyes wild with a mix of fear and hope. Billy and Jake felt a swell of pride as they saw the fruits of their labor. Rachel’s power was waning, and the women was slowly being freed from her grasp. Each face was a story of pain and suffering, but also of resilience and survival. Their rescue was a beacon of light in a town shrouded in darkness.
Merciless and Hunter secured the horses and the carriage, their expressions a mix of grim determination and a newfound sense of purpose. They had been part of Rachel’s world, but now, they had turned against it. The women gathered around them, whispering their thanks and clutching at their newfound protectors.
As the carriage disappeared into the dust, Rachel’s shrill curses fading like a foul echo. Patton and the boys approached the trembling women, their eyes filled with a mix of hope and fear. Billy and Jake dismounted, their hearts racing with a blend of anxiety and victory. The moment of truth had arrived, and with it, the question that would determine the course of their lives.
Patton and the boys approached cautiously, their eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of pursuit. The auctionl’s influence had long arms, and they couldn’t take chances. “Are you all all right?” Patton called out, his voice carrying over the soft whispers of the desert.
The women looked up, their expressions a mix of shock and relief. Some nodded, while others remained too stunned to speak.
“You can trust us,” Billy assured them, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. “We’re here to help you.”
Patton nodded in agreement. “We’ve got a safe place for you all. But we’ve got to move fast.” He looked to Melvin and Leroy, who had dismounted and were keeping a watchful eye on the women.
The sheriff’s words were a firm but gentle command, and Billy and Jake wasted no time obeying. They slid from their saddles, the leather creaking as they hit the ground. The women looked at them with a mix of confusion and hope.
“Get on,” Patton urged, holding out his hand to the nearest woman. She took it tentatively, allowing him to help her onto his horse. Her eyes never left his, searching for any sign of deceit. But all she saw was the steely resolve of a man who had dedicated his life to upholding the law, even when it meant turning against a town that had once been his own.
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