With a roar of absolute fury, Gabriel lunged for the man, intending to rip Bryan’s tongue from his throat using nothing but his bare hands.

“Stop!” Celia cried out in horror, holding her hands over her ears. “Stop!”

Gabriel half-turned, concern for Celia cutting through the bloodlust. It left him vulnerable for a split second.

It was a stupid mistake. Bryan took immediate advantage of the distraction and Gabriel’s closer proximity. With his bound hands, he grabbed the pistol, jerking it free from Gabriel’s waistband.

“Gotcha!” Bryan crowed in victory. Laughing maniacally, he waived the pistol at Gabriel.

Cocking the hammer, he pulled the trigger without much forethought into aiming the weapon.

The shot rang out, the bullet embedding in a rafter above them. The loft filled with the acrid smell of gunpowder and hazy smoke. Celia screamed in horror as Gabriel grappled with Bryan, fighting to regain control of the gun now wedged between their bodies.

Another shot. This one winging wide to land in the wall opposite of the hayloft. Below them, horses whinnied in confused fear, stamping their hooves and moving restlessly within their stalls.

Gabriel heard the sound of feet flying across the loft’s floorboards. He died a thousand deaths because of her recklessness, but before he could utter anything more than a hoarse “No!” Celia was beside him.

Inserting herself between the bodies of the two men as they fought, Celia shoved Bryan away with a desperate sob.

At the same time, Gabriel grabbed the pistol from Bryan’s loosely bound hands. Winding an arm around Celia’s waist, he slung her out of harm’s way.

“Get away, Celia!” he barked, terror for her safety evident in the violence of his voice.

She landed on her hands and knees a few feet away, dazed by the quickness of Gabriel’s actions, her eyes wide as she stared at the two men.

During the struggle, the two men had come dangerously close to the loft’s edge. Bryan teetered on the ledge for half a second.

“Help me!” he gasped, his arms flailing for balance.

Determined that Bryan would not escape his brand of vengeance so easily and painlessly, Gabriel reached for him. But it was too late. The heavy hook over which the noose was looped swung out over the stables with the momentum of Bryan’s body.

The snap of his neck was startling. Loud. The creaking of the hook swinging back and forth from the weight of Bryan’s body even more so.

Celia let out a muffled scream. Scrambling to her feet, she launched herself at Gabriel.

He crushed her against his chest, his face buried in the wealth of her hair as it tumbled free of its pins. Desperately, he swung her around in an effort to shield her view of the dead man.

“I’ve got you, my love. Petite femme. I’ve got you. You are safe now. Safe.”

It was all Gabriel could say as he held Celia’s trembling body. He absorbed her sobs, arms wrapped tight around her as she wept with relief that the nightmare was finally over.