Caine's Reckoning (15 page)

She shook in his arms. Caine grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around her.

“See?” Tracker continued. “The man just can’t help spoiling women. Whether they want it or not.”

He could see she was too tired to argue.

“It’s the truth, sweetheart. If Tracker’s to be believed, I’m all plucked and primed to be henpecked.”

Desi shook her head and took a normal breath. He’d never felt so relieved. “Good girl.”

He didn’t take his hands away until she managed four more and then only after Tracker gave the okay.

She shivered again. And no wonder, she was sitting on the cold ground in an open coat. “Damn, I’m not shining as a husband here.”

“It’s fine.”

Not by a long shot she wasn’t. He lifted her into his lap, bracing his back against the saddle and tree, hitching her up against him. The utter laxity of her muscles told him more than words. “Been a rough day for you, huh?”

Her reply was softer than a man’s breath. He lifted his poncho over her head and pulled her against his chest. He could hardly feel her under the bulk of his coat, but it didn’t matter. He could feel her weight, feel her breath. He knew she was his. It was enough. “We’ve got to work on your fear reactions, sweetheart.”

“There’s nothing to work on.”

The rasp to her voice had him pulling her closer. They had a hell of a lot to work on. “We sure do. For starters, I can tell you right now I’m going to have trouble in the future with the way you get upset.”

“I can’t help that.”

“You’re going to have to try, and for the record, I’m putting in my preferences right now. Next time you get worked up, remember screaming is good. Hollering is good. Fighting is good. Suffocating is way down at the bottom of options.”

“I don’t like it, either.”

He nestled her head under his chin. At least the shivers had stopped. “Then we’re agreed. You come up with something else to trot out when you get to feeling scared and I’ll learn to like it.”

“What would you suggest?”

“I made my suggestions. You just take your pick and start practicing on them.”

The shake of her head was a tiny movement. As tiny as her sigh. “I don’t understand you.”

“We’ll work on that, too, but right now, you need sleep.”

“I couldn’t.”

“We’ve got a ten-hour ride tomorrow. You’d better get rest, or you’ll never make it.”

He could feel her determination gathering. “I’ll make it.”

“Good.” All the determination in the world wasn’t going to keep her awake, but he wasn’t going to argue the point when waiting her out would work just as well. It took roughly five minutes before she went slack against him. He slid down, being careful not to wake her. Desi’s head lolled to the right as he worked his shoulder down. He caught it in his palm. She turned her face into his touch with a relieved sigh. Her cheek fit perfectly into the hollow of his hand. Her fingers curled into his chest. She didn’t have to worry. He wasn’t going to let her go.

S
he didn’t make it. Six hours into the ride, as the flatlands gave way to the rocky canyons, Desi slumped forward in the saddle.

Sam came up alongside as Caine reached for the paint’s reins, pulling it up short. He clucked his tongue, eyeing Desi with disappointment.

“I had a gold piece bet on her making it.”

“With Tracker?”

Sam brought the paint even with Chaser. “Yup.”

“You should know better than to bet against Tracker. He’s got a sixth sense when it comes to a body’s endurance.” A trait that had stood them all in good stead over the years. Desi listed to the left as the pony stopped. Caine slipped his arm around her narrow waist and lifted her up and over. She jerked at the shift in her balance, but she didn’t come fully awake.

Sam ground his smoke out on his boot. The paint shied as Desi’s legs slid down its side. Sam held it put. “I was banking on that grit of hers to make up the difference.”

Caine eased Desi’s weight across his saddle, tucking her shoulder under his as she settled. “She does have more than her fair share of that, but she’s not at full strength.”

After an initial protest, she rested against him. He tugged the coat from the twist it had gotten into around her hips. She’d have a crick for sure if she had to ride like that. Sam pulled the paint around and looped his reins over his horn. It was impossible to see his expression with his hat pulled down low like that.

“She sure has been hard used the last year.”

“That is a fact.” Caine adjusted Desi’s thighs around the pommel. Beyond a whimper at the pain the maneuver caused her muscles, she didn’t waken. As he worked the poncho up between them he asked, “So, you going to tell me what you found in her room?”

“Nothing.”

Caine dropped the heavy wool over Desi’s head. “What kind of nothing.”

“Just that. Nothing. No clothes, no books, no geegaws, just a length of thin chain, and a bed.”

Caine thought on that, picturing the significance of the chain and the lack of clothing. Pictured Desi chained there, waiting hour after hour for visits that had to scar her soul. He turned his head and spat in a useless attempt to rid his mouth of the bad taste the images left. “Bet the bed was comfortable though.”

“Looked well-stuffed.”

It figured. The bastards wouldn’t want their fun marred by a too-hard mattress.

Sam pushed his hat back. “The sheriff seemed to consider her position with James a step up from her previous position as a Comanche whore.”

“I just bet he did.” Men would say anything to justify their actions, and it was a real easy thing to do, abusing a woman with nothing but hell at her back. “Bet he’ll squeal a whole different tune when Desi’s menfolk come to call.”

“Any idea when that might be?”

Caine glanced down their back trail. “I was thinking in a couple weeks after I get her settled, a visit might be in order.”

“Tracker and I would be happy to tag along.”

“That’s not necessary.”

Sam’s cold gaze cut to Desi as she moaned in her sleep, lingering on her pale cheeks. “But it’d be damn enjoyable.”

Caine scooted back in the saddle, giving her more room. “In that case, when the time comes, I’d appreciate the company.”

Something flashed in Sam’s eyes as he took his gaze off Desi. “You know you’re one lucky son of a bitch, don’t you?”

“I know.”

Sam motioned with the reins. “Women like her, they don’t come along every day.”

Caine was well aware that Desi had been slated for a lot better than him.

“Especially not for men like us,” Sam continued.

Knowing it didn’t mean he liked the sound of it being pointed out. “What are you getting at, Sam?”

“Whatever she’s been through this last year, it shouldn’t be held against her.”

“Is that a suggestion or a threat?”

Sam straightened in that deceptively lazy way he had. The hairs on Caine’s neck lifted. Nothing was deadlier than Sam when he decided on a cause. “It’s whatever it needs to be.”

“I know damn well she’s innocent.”

The sun shone on Sam’s face, illuminating the rigid set of his expression and the simmering rage darkening his blue eyes to slate gray. “Do you?” His reply was all the more lethal for the quiet way it was delivered.

Sam was remembering that day so long ago when they’d lost everything. The same memories ripped through Caine. They’d lay in the dirt together, beaten and bound, and watched man after man abuse Sam’s mother. Watched the life drain from her eyes long before the renegades slit her throat. The only bright spot Caine could find in that day was that his own mother had died of a bullet before they could rape her. It was poor consolation. “I was there with you, Sam. I watched just like you did.”

And when the time came, he’d hunted the sons of bitches down right alongside Sam and the rest of Hell’s Eight. Not one word had been said about the way Sam had taken his revenge. No one had stayed his hand, because the same rage had simmered for years in them all, finally boiling over as one by one they tracked down the men who had massacred their families.

They’d set their reputations at the age of fifteen, terrorizing the badlands, and when every account had been settled but one, when they’d ridden into San Antonio to put paid on the last debt, they’d found a Ranger waiting for them. He’d blinked at their ages, but that hadn’t stopped him from giving them an ultimatum. Join the Texas Rangers and do their hunting within the bounds of the law or hang for murder. It hadn’t been much of a choice, but by then they were ready for a change. They’d taken the badges, sworn their oath and the last account had been settled the following spring, all nice and tight and legal.

“A man can see things differently when it’s his wife,” Sam pointed out.

“Maybe.” But Caine couldn’t. Not with Desi. He’d seen her pride, her pain and that incredible courage that shone through it all. It didn’t matter how many men had forced themselves on her. All that mattered was that she was his and no one but he would ever touch her again. “But I’m thinking marriage gives us both a fresh start.”

And he was ready to try his hand at something other than killing. Right after he settled accounts with the men who’d hurt Desi. One by one, for as long as it took until all of them knew the pain and humiliation his wife had experienced. It wouldn’t heal her scars, but—he straightened the poncho—she’d be able to sleep nights not worrying that the bastards were coming back for seconds. Peace of mind was the least of things a husband should give his wife.

“Seeing as Desi is Hell’s Eight now, they’ll be expecting us to come after them. They might have split town.”

Caine wasn’t so sure. There had been something different about the Easterners he didn’t trust. “Or they might be so arrogant, they think they’re above justice.”

“Now, that would be convenient.”

The anticipation in Sam’s voice gave Caine pause.

“No one does anything until I get names,” he warned.

“And then?” Sam asked.

Desi snuggled into his heat. She was damn sensitive to the cold, and no wonder, seeing as there wasn’t a spare pound to be found on her. Caine pulled her closer, meeting Sam’s steady gaze with his own. “Then we try out a few of the more interesting techniques Tracker says his kinfolk are fond of.”

Tracker’s horse drew up on the other side of Desi’s.

“You all talking ’bout me?”

“Just the knowledge you harbor about killing.”

“Anything in particular?”

“Just the best ways to make a man ponder his actions.”

Tracker’s dark gaze flicked over the blond of Desi’s hair, which was all that was visible above the coat. “Be happy to oblige. Any time in particular we’re going to be needing the information?”

“Two weeks,” Sam offered.

Tracker rested his forearm across his saddle horn. “I’ll make a note to be around.”

Caine nodded. “Thanks.”

Tracker jerked his chin at Desi. “Beyond tired and sore, she all right?”

“Best I can tell, yes.”

“She’s got scars, Caine. Not all of them ones you can see.”

Did everyone think he’d suddenly lost his intellect? “Desi’s got grit, and a real die-hard spirit, too.” And he was counting on that to carry her through.

“Just making sure you noticed.”

“Why, you planning on threatening me, too?”

“Nope.” Tracker straightened, his dark eyes oddly hungry as they stared at Desi. “But if she wants to leave, I won’t be denying her a safe place to stay.”

Sam swore. Caine merely nodded, understanding the hunger that drove the other man. His mother had been trapped by her choice of love. Her life and Tracker’s had been hell. With his mixed blood, just finding a prostitute willing to serve him was an issue. A good woman of any race was probably not in his future. But a hell of a lot of loneliness was. Which was a shame. Tracker was a strong man with a real penchant for caretaking and no place to set it loose. “Then I guess it will be up to me to give her a reason to stay.”

Tracker straightened, still watching Desi. “See that you do.”

He looked up and the rare smile that creased his cheeks took Caine by surprise, the way it always did because of the way it took the man from killer to human with just a few shifts of muscle. “She sure did put the fear of his maker into that gambler man when she drew a bead on his balls, didn’t she?”

The memory tugged Caine’s own grin to the fore. “That she did.”

“Should have let her plug him,” Sam growled.

He wished he could have. He shrugged. “Couldn’t risk them trumping up charges.”

But the temptation had been there, yet even then he had been aware of the need to keep Desi safe. He brushed his lips across her hair.

“She’ll be safe at Hell’s Eight,” Sam said, putting the used smoke in the small leather bag strapped to his saddle for that purpose. “And you know Tia’s going to fall in love with her the first time she takes a swing at you.”

Caine smiled at the mental image of his tiny woman taking a swing at him. No doubt Desi would think she could do damage. “What makes you think I’m going to rile her?”