According to Hoyle (17 page)

Rose turned and faced the man, his hand going to his hip instinctively. Flynn saw the color drain from Rose’s face as he remembered too late that he was unarmed. The man who had addressed him grinned slowly like he’d known Rose was unarmed, and he drew his gun.

Flynn’s hand reached for his own pistol as Rose ducked and turned, reaching for the gun at Flynn’s other hip. A shot sounded before Flynn could even clear his gun, and he watched in confused relief as the stranger staggered back and dropped his six-shooter to the planks of the deck. He hit his knees as he stared at them in disbelief, holding his ruined and bleeding right forearm to his chest protectively.

Flynn realized that his heart was racing and he was gaping. He had never seen anyone that fast in his life. The fact that the shooter hadn’t even been armed made the feat that much more impressive.

Rose stood just in front of him, looking at the bleeding man with much the same shock that Flynn felt. They both slowly turned and stared at Cage, who stood calmly with Wash’s smoking gun still in his hand.

Cage lowered the weapon, spinning it around his forefinger and thumb as if it were second nature. He then slid it back into Wash’s holster like he hoped no one would notice the action if it were done quickly enough.

The three of them gawked at him.

“I’ll be damned,” Wash finally breathed. He replaced the gun he had drawn from his other holster without looking away from Cage.

Cage cleared his throat and looked at the man he had shot without remorse as the world returned to its rightful speed and women began swooning around them.

“
T
HAT
’
S
got to be one of the fastest draws I’ve ever seen,” Gabriel was saying excitedly as the marshals ushered them hastily back to the nearest cabin. His eyes shone mischievously and he sounded like a small child nagging his father for another piece of candy. “Marshal, give him your belt, let him do it again!”

Cage blushed deeply and ducked into their cabin with relief, going to the far wall and keeping his head bowed. He held his hands in front of him, waiting for the irons to be clapped back on him. Now that the marshals knew he could handle iron, they’d be sure to restrain him heavily just like they were Gabriel.

Flynn shoved Gabriel into the room and slammed the door behind him. Cage glanced up nervously. Wash was staring at him with his mouth still ajar, and Gabriel was grinning at him delightedly. Flynn glared at Gabriel and looked like he might hit him just to have something to do with himself.

“You saved my life,” Gabriel said to Cage with a grin that seemed permanent now. He took a step closer, but Wash automatically reached out and halted his progress without ever looking away from Cage. “I’ve only ever seen a few men who could handle a gun like that,” Gabriel continued in a soft, rushed voice, sounding almost eager as he edged closer despite Wash’s hand across his chest. “Who are you, really?” he asked in a whisper. “A man doesn’t handle iron like that without being known.”

Cage swallowed and shook his head. He pointed to his own chest and shrugged.

“You’re just you,” Gabriel murmured, still sounding an odd mixture of amused, impressed, and worried.

Cage nodded, his chest aching oddly as he met Gabriel’s eyes. No matter what he tried to say, Gabriel always seemed to understand. It was just one more reason Gabriel was swiftly becoming important to him. Important enough to give away his own secrets for him
—
like the fact that he could handle a gun like few men could.

Gabriel stepped closer as Wash’s arm dropped away from his chest, and he stood in front of Cage, head tilted back as he searched Cage’s eyes and grinned. His eyes glinted, like he knew what Cage was thinking

“All right, break it up,” Flynn muttered, though he still sounded more shocked than anything else.

Gabriel’s smile softened and he leaned closer. “Thank you, Cage,” he whispered.

Cage’s lips parted in surprise, and Gabriel kissed him quickly before he could react further.

Behind him, Wash cleared his throat and laughed. Cage saw the marshal smile and turn away as Gabriel took a step away from him. Flynn’s jaw dropped and he looked slightly scandalized. He turned bright red and stepped forward to take Gabriel’s arm and move him away.

“Enough of that.”

“What’s the harm in it?” Wash asked with a grin that matched Gabriel’s. “That was some mighty fine shooting.”

“I don’t give a Continental what sort a shooting it was! Anyone can handle a gun like that ain’t gonna be let loose to do as he pleases under my watch. That goes for you, too!” Flynn snapped as he rounded on Gabriel and wagged a finger in his face. “We got to keep them separated.”

“Flynn, he’s not dangerous. He reacted, same as you and me. He just did it a heck of a lot faster,” Wash said wryly as he looked back at Cage and winked.

Cage felt himself blush again and cleared his throat uncomfortably. He hadn’t handled a gun in months. He was no longer accustomed to the attention the skill brought.

“You drew across your body,” Gabriel said to him, seemingly ignoring the two marshals.

Cage met Gabriel’s eyes and swallowed with difficulty.

“You wear your guns backwards?” Gabriel asked him.

Cage gave a short, jerky nod in answer, though he didn’t want to answer at all.

“Means you spent time around the border, yeah? Texas, maybe? New Mexico?” Gabriel guessed.

Cage blinked rapidly and looked away, unable to answer and unable to look into Gabriel’s eyes and lie, even if the lie was only a shake of his head to the question. His eyes darted back to Gabriel to find the man watching him. He was no longer smiling. His brow was furrowed as he looked at Cage. Cage could practically see his mental gears turning. He held his breath, waiting for Gabriel’s sharp mind to make a decision with the new information he’d gleaned.

Then Gabriel winked at him suddenly, the corner of his mouth twitching into a brief smirk before he schooled his face into seriousness once more. Cage stared at him in confusion. He didn’t understand the man at all. He seemed to jump from emotion to emotion like tumbleweed in a dust storm, and Cage couldn’t keep up. He was relieved by Gabriel’s easy acceptance, all the same.

When he turned his attention back to the two marshals, it seemed that Wash had won a concession. Flynn was red-faced and outwardly trying to keep his temper under control.

“I’m going to go and see what’s what,” Flynn told them all, obviously flustered and embarrassed over the fact that he was.

He turned and headed out of the cabin before Wash could stop him. The marshal huffed and then turned to look at Cage as soon as the door was shut.

“Color me impressed, son,” he murmured with a smile.

Cage’s face flushed again but he nodded in acknowledgement. He glanced at Gabriel almost pleadingly.

The marshal looked between them and smirked again. “I’m just going to go… stand out in the hallway for a minute. Just to catch some air,” he drawled wryly, then he slipped out of the cabin and left them alone.

Cage stared at the door in shock. After the morning’s adventures with Gabriel trying to escape, he couldn’t imagine what Wash was thinking.

“A trusting soul, isn’t he?” Gabriel murmured as he stood looking at Cage intently. “Odd quality for a man in his line of work.”

Cage nodded almost imperceptibly and nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Gabriel took a few steps closer until he was standing within reach once more.

“Where’d you learn to shoot like that?” he asked in a whisper.

Cage pressed his lips tightly together. They both knew he couldn’t truly answer, and they both knew deep down he didn’t
want
to answer. He raised his hand until his fingertips rested against Gabriel’s cheekbone. He slid his hand around the back of Gabriel’s neck and pulled him closer, his heart racing as he took liberties he had not dared take with someone in almost a year.

Gabriel smiled, their eyes still locked, and Cage gave into the urge and kissed him. He pulled the shorter man to him and wrapped his other arm around Gabriel’s body, holding him and bending him backward with the force of the sudden motion. His hand tightened on the side of Gabriel’s neck, his thumb digging under Gabriel’s chin as he tilted his head back and kissed him hungrily.

Gabriel didn’t struggle against the rough treatment, merely moved with it and muttered against Cage’s lips. He held Cage by his upper arms, fingers clutching at the material of Cage’s new jacket.

For the second time since meeting him, Cage found that he wanted to say something to Gabriel. It was almost a physical need, one that mingled with the other physical needs Gabriel had stirred up in him. He couldn’t speak, though, and so he merely kissed Gabriel with all the pent-up sentiments he had been harboring. Oh, how he wished the marshals would really give them those few hours alone.

“It’s okay,” Gabriel finally managed to murmur into the kiss. He slid one hand up Cage’s arm and wrapped Cage up in a hug.

Cage relaxed his grip and licked his own lips as he rested his forehead against Gabriel’s. They stood together in the intimate embrace, Cage desperately wishing he could speak and trying to decide how he could let Gabriel know what he was thinking.

“It’s okay,” Gabriel repeated, his voice low and confident. He gave a little laugh. “I talk enough for the both of us.”

Cage smiled and released a slow breath. He let his hand slide down the side of Gabriel’s neck to his shoulder as they put some distance between their bodies. He heard Flynn’s voice outside the door, demanding to know what Wash was doing standing out in the hallway.

His heart was still racing as he looked into Gabriel’s eyes.

Gabriel, too, seemed to be slightly flustered. His cheeks were flushed and his dark eyes shone in the low light. He was grinning, though, obviously falling victim to the same physical desires Cage was now battling. Cage enjoyed the idea that he had done that to the normally imperturbable man. He enjoyed a lot of things about what he had just done.

“I’
M
NOT
going to have this fight again,” Wash murmured in a low voice as Flynn glowered at him.

Flynn recognized his tone of voice as one that meant the end of an argument. He took a step toward him anyway and pointed at the closed door to the cabin.

“They are dangerous men, Wash. You’ve been doing this long enough to know what a dangerous man who’s cornered is capable of!” he hissed.

“And you’re well aware what
I’m
capable of,” Wash snarled back at him, his green eyes flashing angrily. “You want to keep treating me like a child, you can step off at the next stop and find your own damn way back to Lincoln. Hell, you can step off now, for all I care. I ain’t yours to protect, understand?”

Flynn took a little step back and stared at him as if he’d been slapped. The words cut deep, and Flynn didn’t want to examine why. His jaw tightened and he reached up and banged on the door without looking away from Wash. “Rose!”

Several tense seconds later, Rose came to the door and stepped out into the narrow corridor, surprisingly obedient.

“Thank you, Marshal,” Rose murmured to Wash as he moved past him.

Wash nodded, his hard eyes still on Flynn. “Everything okay with the shooter?” he asked Flynn coldly.

Flynn merely nodded and took hold of Rose’s elbow. “Meet you in the morning,” he muttered as he led Rose away.

“Am I sensing some strain between the two of you?” Rose questioned as they made their way down a small side hall and to a set of narrow stairs that would take them up to their deck. “I hope I’ve not been the cause of too much
—
”

“Shut up.”

“If I may offer some advice
—
”

“I said shut up,” Flynn gritted out.

“A man like Marshal Washington is not accustomed to being thought weak,” Rose continued without taking heed of Flynn’s warnings. “Especially with the use of only one arm now, you might try showing you have more faith in him.”

“You might try shutting your damn mouth,” Flynn snapped as they mounted the narrow wooden stairs. “And stop trying to escape!”

“I haven’t!” Rose responded defensively. “Not… recently,” he corrected as they came to the door of their cabin.

Flynn practically growled at the man as he gestured for him to enter first.

“And you must admit you would have been disappointed had I not at least made one attempt.”

“Shut up, Rose. Just get ready for bed. I’m chaining you to your damn cot tonight.”

“That should be quite effective,” Rose commented with a nod as he shrugged out of his frockcoat and tossed it onto the flimsy cot. “Or I’ll just pick the cot up and take it with me when I decide to make my great escape. Perhaps it will even float.”

Flynn fought back the urge to throttle him. He ripped his tie off and tossed it at Rose in frustration.

It fluttered to the floor of the tiny cabin between them, and they both watched it until it landed at Rose’s feet. Rose looked up at Flynn, obviously struggling to repress a laugh as his lips twitched.

“Don’t say a damn word,” Flynn grumbled.

“I assure you, Marshal, I wouldn’t dare.”

Hours later, Flynn lay in the cabin’s bunk, awake and thoughtful and restless. He wanted desperately to go knock on Wash’s door and apologize. He had taken the time to cool down and really think about what Rose had said to him. It made a certain sort of sense, loath though he was to admit it.

He glanced over at the dark shape that was his prisoner. He appeared to be asleep, motionless and breathing evenly. But Flynn knew better. He cleared his throat.

“Is it true you’re… what I mean to say is
—
uhh….”

Flynn closed his eyes and shook his head in the darkness.

“You don’t strike me as the type to stutter, Marshal,” Rose drawled in a muffled voice. He lay with his new hat over his face and his hands neatly folded on his stomach. “Is it true I’m what?”