Marshal of Hel Dorado (25 page)

 
    
The wolf nodded his head once and rushed
him, cutting away only when Kid ducked. Kid panted, lifting his head, gaze
chasing the wolf’s race northward.

 
    
“Son of a bitch,” he whispered. For a
fleeting few seconds, he’d been sure he’d imagined the whole thing and the wolf
was going to tear his head off. But he hadn’t.

 
    
Instead, he made it clear what he would do
if Kid didn’t bring Scarlett to him.

 
    
Wincing, Kid climbed to his feet. He
gathered the jacket and the rifle, fumbling to keep the shirt pressed against
his bloody chest. He limped northeast.

 
    
He had till dawn to steal a woman away from
his brother and take her to a wolf.

 
    
S
carlett
stared at the house. It had taken less than an hour of gentle riding to reach
it.

 
    
Micah reined his horse in next to her, his
grin unabashed. “Thought you were further away, didn’t you?”

 
    
“Leave her alone.” Sam instructed sidling
up on her left.

 
    
“But I rode for hours, how could I have
been this close?” Scarlett twisted on Dawn’s bareback and looked back the way
they’d come. The gentle swell of the hills seemed to go on forever, but they
dropped down to a rockier basin, twisting and turning until they became a creek
bed, a creek bed that fed into the stream, which in turn filled the ponds.

 
    
Not more than a hundred feet away was the
bathing pond, shielded by its grove of trees.

 
    
She’d ridden in a damn circle. Frustration
boiled in her belly and the air around her sizzled.

 
    
“Hey,” Sam’s heavy, warm hand came down on
her knee, jerking her attention to him.

 
    
“You don’t know the land and Micah told you
to head northeast. The natural path was to follow the streams and they
meander.”

 
    
The comforting words assuaged her wounded
pride and loosened the hard knot of tension in her chest. A blush stole over
her face, it was the second time today she’d let her temper get the better of
her. Sam squeezed her leg once with a small smile of understanding.

 
    
“Sorry about that Miss Scarlett.” But
Micah’s grin was unrepentant. “You needed to get away, but you didn’t need to
get that far. It’s safer for you here at the ranch.”

 
    
“So you both keep saying.” The great house
loomed ahead, the setting sun painting the western sky in rich hues of amber
and gold. She yearned to turn the mare around, to ride out. The air was rich
with the scent of rain, the grass damp and the land refreshed with the
banishment of the arid heat.

 
    
She would have to sleep and hope Buck found
her dreams again. She would let him know where she was and that she was safe,
beg him to keep her brothers away from the Kanes until she could escape. It
wasn’t much of a plan, but with both Sam and Micah hovering so close, bolting
wasn’t an option.

 
    
Not unless she wanted to hurt them.

 
    
Scarlett sighed, her shoulders slumping.
Sam circled around her, nudging his horse between hers and Micah’s. His leg
brushed hers and tugged her mind from downcast thoughts.

 
    
“Scarlett,” his low and soft voice offered
comfort and understanding.

 
    
But not freedom.

 
    
“I know. Trust you. Trust your father.
Trust the law.” She’d repeated the litany in her mind, but it was hard to put
much faith in all three. Not when she knew her brothers. They were not going to
leave her here.

 
    
She had a nagging sense that they were
close. She half-expected them to ride up to meet her. But despite the settling
in movements down at the barn and the occasional drift of laughter from the
cabins, there was no sign of them.

 
    
“Scarlett,” Sam’s stretched out of the
saddle, covering her hand on Dawn’s mane and squeezing it. He’d taken every
opportunity to touch her. From offering her a fresh shirt to replace her damp
one to giving her a leg up onto Dawn’s back. Both brothers offer her their
saddles and she’d turned them down, refusing even to ride behind them.

 
    
She’d left the ranch, or at least for her
ride, bareback and that’s how she intended to return.

 
    
“It’s going to be all right.”

 
    
Pulling her hands away, she gave Dawn a
gentle kick. The mare responded with a loping trot towards the barn. The last
thing she needed was to crave more of Sam than she already did.

 
    
Her emotions rioted after Micah’s arrival.
Sam’s kisses were like whiskey, fogging her mind and her common sense, leaving
her desperate. He wanted her, she could feel it in the hardness that had jutted
against her, but he’d still pushed her away.

 
    
They left her alone at the barn after she
refused their assistance. She knew how to curry comb and clean up the mare
after the ride. She said nothing when Micah added hay and feed to the stall,
checking each of Dawn’s feet for stones. She lingered over caring for the horse
until Micah and Sam both loomed outside the stall door.

 
    
They weren’t taking any chances.

 
    
Exhaustion dragged every step back to the
main house. Twice she stumbled in the dark and twice Sam reached a hand out to
steady her, only to withdraw it when she flinched.

 
    
“Evening.”

 
    
They were walking up the three steps to the
veranda when Sam’s youngest brother appeared. She recognized him from the night
in town. Hatless, his unkempt hair looked freshly washed, but in desperate need
of a comb.

 
    
“Hey Kid,” Micah called. “When did you get
back?”

 
    
“A couple of hours ago.”

 
    
Scarlett stared at the young man, even the
rapidly gathering shadows of night there was something different about him. A
guarded wariness tinged with relief. His gaze rested on her, not his brothers
and Scarlett tried to muster up a smile.

 
    
But she wasn’t happy about returning to the
Kane ranch. Not with night sweeping the land and the certainty that her
brothers were close.

 
    
She resisted the urge to study the
darkness, half-expecting Cody to bound up to her, to hear Jimmy’s sharp whistle
and Noah’s teasing. Buck would say nothing, not after the dream.

 
    
Heat seeped up into her face. He wouldn’t
say anything, but he would know and she would see that knowledge in his eyes.

 
    
“There are cold sandwiches laid out in the
dining room.”

 
    
“Oh?” Suspicion deepened Micah’s voice.
“We’ve missed supper and we’re certainly not dressed for it.”

 
    
Kid shrugged. “Pa took Miss Annabeth and
Lena to town to call on Cob. Miss Annabeth left the food out when Pa was
hitching the wagon.”

 
    
Scarlett glanced up at Kid to find his gaze
on her again. The quiet intensity of the stare was unnerving.

 
    
“You should eat, Miss Scarlett.”

 
    
Despite the growling protest of her
stomach, she demurred and shook her head. “I’d rather just go up to bed if you
gentlemen don’t mind.” And if they did, she found that she didn’t care. She
avoided looking at Sam and swept past Kid when he opened the door for her.

 
    
“What did you do to her Sam?” Micah’s voice
demanded in furious whisper as she reached the stairs.

 
    
“Stay out of it, Micah.” Sam’s voice edged
closer and Scarlett rushed the steps. He was following her.

 
    
“Hey!” Micah called and a series of thumps
paused Scarlett’s ascent. She glanced down to see Sam twisting Micah under his
arm and all but throwing his brother out the door. The two wrestled,
flesh-slapping flesh as Micah delivered a blow to Sam’s midsection that his
older brother returned with gusto.

 
    
Kid sidled out of the way as the pair
tumbled back outside. He glanced up at her, meeting her gaze full on. “They’ll
be fine, Miss Scarlett. Would you like me to bring any food up?”

 
    
She shook her head slowly. Something in
Kid’s voice clanged an alarm in her mind. He moved stiffly and when Micah
plunged back in the door only to be dragged back out again, he was very careful
to stay out of reach.

 
    
Ignoring the horseplay, she focused on the
younger brother. He’d been quick of smile and charm in town, easier, sweeter.
The easiness was missing.

 
    
“Are you all right?”

 
    
Kid limped to the foot of the stairs. He
glanced once at the open doorway, but laughter punctuated the shouts and sounds
of fists landing. “I’m fine, Miss Scarlett. But we’ll need to be up early to
head off the wolves.”

 
    
Wolves.

 
    
Cody.

 
    
Scarlett shot a fast glance at the door and
descended three steps. “Is he all right?”

 
    
The younger man nodded slowly, angling to
watch the door, but throwing his whispered words over his shoulder. “I told him
I would bring you at dawn. I’ll wake you early, so you should sleep.”

 
    
“Sam will be angry.” Relief swamped her
reluctance. Cody was close.

 
    
“I’ll take care of my brother. I made a
promise, Miss Scarlett. Now go on, get some sleep.”

 
    
Another shout this time breaking into hard
male laughter drifted in the door. Kid jerked his chin to the stairs.

 
    
“Good night, Miss Scarlett.”

 
    
“Good night.”

 
    
In her borrowed room, Scarlett leaned back
against the closed door. Her heart galloping, she gulped in air. Tears pricked
her eyes. Hard on the sense of relief came regret. Regret that she wouldn’t see
Sam again. Not Sam, not his brothers or his father. Not the sweet Miss Annabeth
or the kind Lena.

 
    
Not Sam.

 
    
She pressed two fingers to her lips to
stifle the soft sob trying to escape. A hollow ache circled her pounding heart.
Her boots dragged as she walked over to the mirror, it took a half thought to
light the candles sitting in the hardened pools of wax.

 
    
She studied herself in the mirror. She
barely recognized the woman looking back at her.

 
    
Her skin was pink from the sun, deepening
the freckles over her nose. Her lips were swollen, softer and fuller and she
saw the sadness in her eyes.

 
    
Sadness nibbled its way through her soul,
leaving behind only confusion. She wanted to go home, but she didn’t want to
leave.

 
    
Masculine laughter drifted up from
downstairs. Scarlett looked away from the mirror.

 
    
Cody was waiting for her.

 
    
Sam was downstairs.

 
    
Heavy steps carried her to the bed. She
found the brush where she’d left it the morning alongside the matching comb.
The borrowed items were made of ivory. Lena told her that Miss Molly had
carried them all the way from Charleston.

 
    
Miss Molly.

 
    
Sam’s mother.