She was conscious throughout the ride of his revolver in its holster a few inches from her hip. She had fired several rifles and Zach's revolver twice... He had cocked it for her, but she knew how to do that. If Charles stopped the horse for a moment, she could grab his revolver and shoot him. She would need to shoot him in the back, but he was merely a Yankee. And, like that, she would get blood on her. She would have to burn dress, and could not afford to burn this one. This plan had more. He was painting down to her navel and across her hips. She could barely pick up the gulps as he made his way to the centre. Dabbing more latex on to the brush, he went over the mound and in between her legs. The gasp she was holding back escaped, and she shivered slightly beneath his touch. Surprisingly, Thomas didn't say anything, but he did stop painting for just a moment. She looked down just to see him peering up. The tension of the moment hung as their eyes met. Then Thomas broke his gaze. More

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