Brody (5 page)

She wasn’t sure if he wanted to see her bare herself entirely, which Olivia knew wasn’t outside the realm of possibility, or if he was telling her the truth about showing more.

Three more buttons and she spread out the shirt so the entire top half of her chest was showing. Her breasts poked out, almost to the nipple. He licked his lips and her stomach jumped. She wanted to feel his tongue on her skin, on her lips, on her body. With a mental slap for her continued foolishness, Olivia pushed aside her attraction to the man. She had to keep her focus on the man she had to fool into thinking she was a whore.

“Your hair too.” His voice had finally become deeper, huskier than it had been. She was immensely satisfied to see that he was as affected as she was. It gave her a certain amount of satisfaction to know she wasn’t the only one struggling with desire.

Olivia pulled the pins from her hair and unraveled the braid.

“Here, let me.” He stepped behind her and finger combed her hair, rubbing her scalp until she closed her eyes against the pleasure. No one had ever told her a head rub could be so pleasurable. She would have to remember how much she enjoyed it, because she sure as heck wanted to repeat this experience.

Brody stepped away and walked around her. His gaze raked her up and down, then back again. His normally cool blue eyes were blazing hot when they finally met hers.

“Well, hell, woman.”

She preened inside at the expression on his face, the heat in his gaze. She felt a pure feminine pleasure at bringing a man to want her by simply looking at her.

“You, ah, make a good ah ... you clean up good anyway.” He cleared his throat and walked back toward the horses.

Olivia told herself she wasn’t disappointed. He hadn’t called her a good whore, but he hadn’t actually complimented her either. If she was respectable, there was no way she would have followed him, or killed two men, or dressed up like a fallen woman. If she was respectable, she would have been swooning about the whole day.

Did that mean she wasn’t respectable? Perhaps, but she was feeling good about everything, including the way she’d protected herself and Brody. There was no way she would trade this experience for respectability.

She fluffed her hair a little more and glanced down at her nearly exposed breasts. It was time to put on a show, and she hoped to God it was a good one.

After tucking the pistol in her skirt pocket, Olivia arranged herself on the saddle and pronounced herself ready. Brody moved his coat so it partially covered the rifle. Sanchez would have to walk around to see the weapon if they played their parts right.

“You will be my, ah, manager? Husband?” She wasn’t sure which role he would feel comfortable with.

“I’ll be your brother.”

That was unexpected. A brother wouldn’t be ogling her chest or looking at her as if he wanted to throw her on the ground and lose himself inside her.

“I have four brothers. I don’t need another one.” She made a face at him, but he kept his eyes facing forward. “I think you should be my manager. You make business deals for me and I do the work on my back.” It sounded just as raw as it was. She knew there were women reduced to this kind of situation, women who had no one to help them. Olivia wouldn’t judge them for what they did because she was about to do almost the same thing. She would do anything for her family, no matter the cost.

Brody didn’t answer her so she decided her idea was the best. They came up on the rise and she made sure to sit up straight, thrusting her chest as far forward as she could.

A man appeared out of the woods to her left, rifle at the ready and it was pointing straight at her head. Her mouth went cotton dry and she knew the smile she gave the man was as shaky as her hands. This had to be Sanchez.

“Why, good afternoon, sir.” She leaned forward enough to give him an eyeful of her cleavage. “I hope you don’t mind us stopping by unannounced.”

“Who the hell are you?” His voice was oily and rusty at the same time, a combination that made her skin crawl.

“My name is Belinda and this here is my manager, Ferdinand.” She smiled widely. “I’m meeting such nice folks on my journey, making some money so we can continue on our way.”

The man’s grip loosened slightly. “Making money?”

“Why, sugar, you know what I mean.” She winked at him, grateful he couldn’t see how much she trembled.

“How much?”

“Dollar for half an hour. Two for a whole hour.” She hoped that was a reasonable amount because she had no idea how much to charge.

“And him?”

“Oh, he likes to watch, but for you, he can wait outside with the horses.” She noted the sheer size of the man, his dark black eyes and bronze skin. “I surely do like a big man.”

Brody made some kind of noise beside her but she didn’t react, hoping the man didn’t hear it.

“Ride on to the house. I meet you there.” He disappeared back into the woods, leaving Olivia and Brody alone.

She let the air out of her lungs slowly, although she really wanted to let a gust loose. The man was likely watching them and they had to keep up the pretense of being a whore and her manager.

“He seemed like a good customer. Let’s get on then before he changes his mind. We need to eat tonight.” She spurred her mare forward, aware that every move she made was monitored.

“Don’t overdo it, Belinda.” Brody’s whisper was more like a hiss, almost too low for her to hear.

“Be quiet, Ferdinand.”

They walked the horses at a leisurely pace, while her heart thundered instead of the horse’s hooves. She was about to cross a line. There would be no turning back now. She didn’t know whether to be terrified or excited.

The house turned out to be even less than the shack they’d left behind hours before. It was smaller, dirtier and leaned to the right. More than likely it was an old line shack a rancher had built twenty years ago and then left to the elements. This man had made it his own. Olivia hoped she didn’t have to smell the inside.

The trees had grown around the house, sheltering it like a mother’s arms would hold an ugly child. The foliage kept it hidden from those that might seek it. Brody had the right of it—sneaking up would not have worked.

Olivia swallowed the dry spit in her mouth at the size of Sanchez as compared to the house. The trees had dwarfed him and now he did the same to the shack. He held a rifle on his shoulder, but his finger was still on the trigger. The man was much bigger than she’d thought he was. She resisted the urge to glance over at the ranger. Instead, she pasted on a smile.

“You have a nice house, sugar.” She was proud of just how calm her voice sounded.

“Climb on down and I’ll show it to you up close and personal.”

Olivia took her time dismounting. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

“I didn’t plan on it.” He kept his gaze on Brody, who had stopped ten feet away. “What’s your manager doing?”

“Oh, he is giving us privacy.” When her feet hit the ground, her mare shied away a little, probably sensing Olivia’s discomfort. “He’ll go back in the woods if you want.”

“I want him close so I can keep my eye on him.” Sanchez’s dark gaze was sharp and suspicious.

“Ferdinand, please come closer so our host doesn’t think you’re up to no good.” She held onto the horse’s reins as she waited for Brody to move closer. The pistol pressed against the outside of her thigh, a comfortable weight. She hoped she wouldn’t have to use it again today but was prepared to. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do to find Benjy.

Brody rode up slowly, keeping the side of the horse with the rifle out of the man’s view. He dismounted clumsily, and snorted at his own mistake.

“Get on with it then. I gotta date with a bottle and a pair of tits over in Eagle Creek.” He leaned against his horse and pulled out a cheroot. As he lit the match on his boot, he met Olivia’s gaze. “I’m gonna start charging you for standing there instead of servicing your customer.”

She managed to keep her mouth closed at the change in his demeanor. The man would have never been mistaken for a ranger the way he looked right about then. He had thespian skills she wasn’t even aware of, and although she might not admit it, she was impressed with them.

Olivia turned to the stranger. “You heard the man. How long do you want me?” She ran her finger along the edge of her blouse. The man’s gaze snapped to the digit, following its path. He licked his lips and she held in a shudder with great effort.

“Half hour. Don’t have no more than a dollar, but I need a good fuck.” He pushed the door open with his boot. “Inside.”

“Oh, you know I have to see the money first.” She wagged her finger at him. “It is business after all.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled bill. “You don’t get it until I get my dick sucked.”

Olivia’s stomach rolled and she tasted bile in the back of her throat. “Your dollar, sugar.” She walked up toward him and his gaze locked on her cleavage.

Before she even realized Brody had moved, he had his arm around the man’s throat and his rifle planted in Sanchez’s armpit. She stopped in mid-stride and stared.

“Fucking bitch. I knowed you was just after my money.” Spittle flew from the man’s mouth and landed on her cheek.

“Oh, she didn’t want money from you.” Brody’s cold tone was so far removed from his clownlike act a few minutes earlier, she had trouble reconciling the two.

“What the hell do you want?” The man tried to break the ranger’s hold, but it appeared to be impossible.

“Jeb Stinson.” The name rippled through the air, leaving a bad taste in her mouth. The stranger stopped struggling.

“I don’t know that name.”

Brody tightened his grip, twisting the man’s arm until he groaned. “Don’t lie to me, Sanchez.”

There was a pause when the man appeared to be weighing his words. “You got the wrong man.”

“I don’t think so.” He leaned in so he spoke into the man’s hairy ear. “You tell me or I show you what pain really is.”

“Who are you?” Sanchez didn’t look afraid, but he didn’t look as confident as he had before.

“Nobody you want to fuck with. Someone who needs information.” Brody glanced at Olivia. “There’s rope in my saddlebags.”

She turned to follow his directions, glad she wouldn’t have to see whatever he planned to do to Sanchez. There were many things she had already done that no one would approve of. She shouldn’t start judging the ranger’s methods.

By the time she returned with the rope, Brody had the man on the ground and his knee firmly planted in his back.

“Tie his hands, then his feet.”

She leaned over with the rope, giving the ranger a clear view of her breasts. His eyes widened just a fraction before his gaze snapped to hers.

“And button your shirt.”

Olivia’s temper reared and when she finished tying Sanchez’s hands, she stood up and let loose another button. She very much enjoyed how Brody’s mouth tightened at her gesture. Too bad. There was no way he was going to order her around. A partner was an equal, not a dog to be told what to do.

After she tied his feet, she needed to wash her hands. Just touching the stranger made her feel unclean. Thank God, Brody had stepped in before Sanchez had touched her. She wouldn’t have the memory of that to contend with for the rest of her life.

The ranger flipped the big man over like a ragdoll. Brody might be lean, but he was strong as an ox. She’d do well to remember that.

“Now Sanchez, you’re going to tell me about Jeb’s operation. Where he stashed the goods, where he sold the people and where he parked his carcass after a robbery.” Brody’s voice was cold enough to give her goose flesh up her arms.

“I don’t know nothing.” The other man wasn’t struggling anymore and she saw worry in his dark gaze.

“Oh, I think you do.” The ranger pulled a huge knife out of a hidden sheath on his back. It had to be as big as her forearm. The sharp blade winked in the sunlight, lethal and intimidating. “And I think I can change your mind about telling me.”

Olivia watched the blade as Brody slid it toward the man’s ear. She wondered what he would do to get the information he needed. He was bound by the law, wasn’t he?

“You know I can do about anything I want and tell people you died in a gunfight and I buried your body.” The knife’s edge left a thin trail of blood along Sanchez’s dirty neck. “Nobody will care. Nobody will miss you.”

Olivia was startled to realize he had not told Sanchez he was a ranger. For the first time since she’d met Armstrong, a frisson of fear slid down her spine.

Matt always told her she acted like a bull, pushing her way through life, no matter who she knocked down. She may have knocked herself down by choosing to be with Armstrong, no matter how much she was drawn to him.

The ranger slid the knife around the front of Sanchez’s throat as Olivia stared, her heart thumping hard enough to make her ears hurt.

“You want to tell me what you know before I start cutting off parts?” Another knife appeared in Brody’s other hand. He pressed it against Sanchez’s crotch.

Apparently, the man valued his balls. “I tell you. I tell you. Don’t cut my
cojones, cabron
.” The tough man had been reduced to begging.

Olivia let out a sigh of relief, but a niggling doubt about Armstrong’s tactics stayed. Would she have gone that far to get information about Benjy? She didn’t want to find the answer to that question.

“Start talking.” Brody straightened up but kept the knives in position. His cold eyes locked on Sanchez.

“There is a shack a couple hours north where we meet. Each time Stinson tells us the ranch to hit. He didn’t care about what we took.” Beads of sweat rolled down the man’s face.

“What about the people and goods you took? Did you bring them into Mexico?”

“
Sí
. Higher price.”

Olivia knew the answer to the question before Sanchez answered. It was her worst fear. A sweet, blue-eyed white boy would be sold to the highest bidder for God only knew what. Her stomach heaved. She turned and ran for the bushes, her hand pressed to her mouth to hold back the vomit.

At the edge of the woods, she dropped to her knees and retched time and again. If she let her mind drift to what her little brother was enduring, it made her vomit again. Olivia crawled to a sunny spot a few feet away. She shook as she rocked back and forth, hugging herself.