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Page 332

| ever there was an opportunity to rid herself of this evil man, now was the time. But, as though he had read her mind, Stanford yanked a pistol from his holster and aimed it at her. |

| "Don't get any ideas, whore," he hissed. "This gun will be on you the whole time you're cuttin' on me. If you make any suspicious slips I'll shoot you faster than you can bat an eye." |

| "Why didn't you have one of your men do it?" Bianca complained. She bent over him and tore his shirt sleeve away from the wound. "You've lost a lot of blood by waiting for me to do it." |

| "Any one of them would've liked stickin' a knife in me, but not to help me," Stanford growled. "I gave all of them their walkin' papers as soon as we got free and clear of the guns on the paddlewheeler." |

| Bianca's mind was spinning. "You no longer have need of men to help you?" she gasped. "And what is this about a paddlewheeler? Is that where you were wounded? How could a gun battle erupt on a paddlewheeler?" |

| She paled and straightened her back to stare down at Stanford. "Unless it was you who instigated such gunplay. . . ." she said, her words trailing off to nothing. |

| "Stanford, what did you do?" she then continued. "Did it have anything to do with Ashton and Sasha? Oh, Lord, did you hurt either one of them?" |

| "Quit talkin' and askin' so many questions, whore," Stanford warned, sweat dampening his brow as the pain worsened in his arm. He yanked his knife from its sheath and handed it to Bianca. |

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