Marshal of Hel Dorado (35 page)

 
    
Scarlett looked back to where she’d left
them, but Cody and Sam were already on the shore, climbing up onto the rocks.
She started after them and Buck slid in front of her. “Uh uh.”

 
    
He shook his finger at her.

 
    
Her hands slapped against the water sending
it upwards and she looked to Micah for help, but he lifted his shoulders in a
shrug.

 
    
“They’ll sort it out, Scarlett. Besides, I
need to know who wins.”

 
    
“Why?” She demanded.

 
    
“So I can take on the winner.” Micah
grinned. “I think I like the idea of the prize.”

 
    
Scarlett gaped at Micah. “Are you ever serious?”

 
    
“Sometimes.” He grinned. “If you ask me
too, I’ll be completely serious about you.” But his bid was interrupted by Noah
and Buck sweeping him under the water, leaving Scarlett to stare off into the
darkness where Sam and Cody vanished.

 
    
C
ody
rolled his head to the left and the right, the bones popping and resettling.
The wolf rolled against the inside of his skin, all fur and fury. He focused on
his hands, fighting the need to unsheathe his claws. The Marshal strode ahead
of him, clearly unperturbed about showing Cody his back. It was a weakness.

 
    
And a sign of confidence.

 
    
He swallowed the growl itching up his
throat and focused his will. Quanto told him the wolf was a partner, not the
dominant within and if Cody did not exert control, he would find himself the
submissive to the wolf’s demands. Just as he had at the lakeside when he’d
kissed Scarlett. The healing burns on his chest itched, a reminder of the
frantic blows of her fists.

 
    
The wolf wanted to mark her and to claim
her.

 
    
The man understood that he could do
neither.

 
    
But the man and wolf were in perfect
agreement where Sam was concerned.

 
    
They didn’t want the Marshal anywhere near
her. When they’d passed into the true dark beyond the reach of Scarlett’s
flickering flames, the Marshal paused. Shirtless, weaponless and wearing only
his damp denim, he turned to face Cody.

 
    
The moon was passing full, spilling its
pale light across the desert scrub and adding a nearly pearlescent sheen to the
sand. The warm air brushed over Cody’s damp skin, doing little to lower the
fever burning in his blood. Quanto had made him swear to not attack. He’d
demanded Cody’s word.

 
    
He’d given it, reluctantly, but he wouldn’t
turn down Sam’s challenge or the cool promise of pain offered in Sam’s gaze.
Sam didn’t want him around Scarlett either.

 
    
“No claws.” The taciturn order in the words
sent the wolf’s hackles up and Cody dug his fingers into his palm.

 
    
Control.

 
    
“No knives or guns.” Cody replied in kind.

 
    
“Fists.”

 
    
“Fists.”

 
    
Settled on the terms of the fight, Cody
gave into the wolf’s urge to circle. Sam pivoted, holding his ground with a
casual sense of calm that the wolf found infuriating. It hazed over Cody’s
vision and he shook his head once, he needed the wolf to calm down. Sam
wouldn’t go down easy. He’d shown no fear that first night in town. He’d shown
even less when they’d clashed on the mountain.

 
    
“What do you want with Scarlett?” Cody spit
the words out, the man needed to know.

 
    
The wolf snarled, scratching against his
skin and aching for release. Sam’s heart beat a measured rhythm, neither
speeding up nor slowing down. His scent was rich with confidence, lacking the
stink of fear.

 
    
What the hell did it take to rattle the
man?

 
    
Sam rocked back on his heels. His tense
expression relaxed into one more circumspect.

 
    
The wolf paused in its prowl and Cody
waited. He’d looked after Scarlett for as long as he could remember. She was
dearer to him than his own heart. No man was going to be allowed to use her or
abuse her. Cody would kill them first.

 
    
“That depends.”

 
    
That was not the answer Cody wanted to
hear. “On what?”

 
    
“On Scarlett.”

 
    
Cody stopped and cocked his head to the
side. The wolf peered through his eyes, studying the Marshal. The unexpected
direction of the answer left it flummoxed and brushed aside the quiet fury
fogging his mind.

 
    
“What about her?”

 
    
Sam shrugged. “My intentions depend on what
she wants. Or should I say, who she wants?”

 
    
The wolf growled. Scarlett was his and Cody
agreed, to a point. But kissing her had been a mistake. He’d scared her. Worse,
he’d hurt her. The fear in her eyes was bad enough, but the wash of tears made
him want to chew his own arm off. Quanto’s disapproval hung heavy on his soul,
as did Wyatt’s blunt warning. But, it changed nothing. Scarlett was his to
protect.

 
    
The wolf agreed.

 
    
“Scarlett knows nothing about men or their
desires or the world for that matter.” It was a hard truth, but Cody accepted
it. They’d sheltered and protected her for just this reason.

 
    
“And whose fault is that?” The accusation
rebounded off Cody. The wolf didn’t care, but the man experienced the slap.
“You’ve all locked her away, kept her on a mountain, away from people, hell,
away from other womenfolk. How is she supposed to learn there?”

 
    
“Oh and I suppose you think you’re the one
to teach her.” The image of Sam holding Scarlett’s hands and the way Scarlett
leaned into him flagged across his vision. The wolf crouched, waiting.

 
    
The Marshal was a predator.

 
    
Scarlett was pack.

 
    
“I think I care. I think I care a hell of a
lot about what she wants.” The measured words were a one-two punch to Cody’s
guts. His implication clear. Sam believed that Cody didn’t give a damn about
Scarlett. The wolf trembled under Cody’s skin, fur threatening.

 
    
“And she deserves a chance to know the
world…”

 
    
“You don’t know a damn thing about her.”
The shout erupted like a howl. “You don’t know a damn thing about her gifts or
what others would do to her. Hell, you wanted to hang her.”

 
    
“I
never
wanted to hang her. My issues were with her robbing a bank, not her fire. Never
her fire. She wouldn’t have been in that position if you group of hardheads had
a thought between you for the consequences to your actions. I’m not the threat
here, Cody. You are.”

 
    
The wolf screaming in his ears, Cody
lunged. His fist glanced off the Marshal’s jaw.

 
    
Sam pivoted, seizing Cody’s leading arm,
turning Cody's weight and motion against him.

 
    
Cody landed in the brush. Scrub tore at his
flesh, but he was already rebounding, launching at the Marshal.

 
    
The meaty sound of fists slamming into
flesh filled the night. Cody tasted blood in his mouth, smelled Sam’s blood in
the air. Sam’s fists crashed against his face and twice more into his stomach,
sending the air whooshing out of him. Blood and sweat stung the corner of his
eye as they grappled.

 
    
Three more times he hit the dirt, twice Sam
did. Cody could barely see for the blood flowing as he tackled the taller man.
He wrapped his arms around him, squeezing the air out of the Marshal.

 
    
The hard edges of Sam’s hands crashed
against Cody’s skull, boxing his ears and sending slivers of pain driving into
his brain. He dropped away, but struck out with a fist catching the Marshal
full in the groin. The man yelped.

 
    
The sound pleased the wolf, but the knee to
the side of his head didn’t. When he hit the dirt this time, he kicked out,
sweeping the Marshal’s legs out from underneath him enjoying the satisfying
thud he made.

 
    
Panting, he cracked open a swollen eye and
saw the pain twisting the Marshal’s face. He bared his teeth.

 
    
“Had enough?”

 
    
“No. You?”

 
    
“Let me catch my breath.”

 
    
“Deal.” The Marshal wheezed the word around
a bark of laughter, the scent of blood and sweat a heavy tang against the
lingering scents of sun and scrub in the sand.

 
    
The wolf shook, shedding rage like droplets
of water. A chuckle broke loose inside of him and Cody reached up to test the
cut on his lip. A tooth was loose and his right eye was swollen closed. “You
have a wicked right hook, Marshal.”

 
    
Sam grunted a laugh. “Feels like I was
punching a brick wall.”

 
    
“It’s your own damn fault. You said I was
hard headed.”

 
    
The Marshal sat up carefully, his face a
mass of reddened flesh and bloody cuts. The wolf settled, pleased with the
bloody results. Cody groaned and rolled over, lurching to his feet.

 
    
“Do you love her?”

 
    
If the question surprised the Sam, he
didn’t show it. It took a little longer to make it to his feet and the hitch in
his walk pleased Cody even more than the wolf.

 
    
“I don’t know.” The bold, blunt honesty
eased Cody’s apprehension. “But I sure as hell want to find out.”

 
    
“She deserves the best.”

 
    
“I agree.”

 
    
Cody leaned to the side and spat out a
mouthful of blood. The wolf was curling around itself, its need to maim sated.

 
    
“Do you think you’re the best thing for
her?”

 
    
“I don’t know that either, Cody. I know I
care. I know I want to protect her. I know I want to find out. The rest, that’s
up to her. But you’re not going to scare me off or drive me away. She doesn’t
want you.” The Marshal really didn’t pull his punches. Cody rubbed his ribs,
the ache in his heart the deepest bruise of all.

 
    
“And if she decides she doesn’t want you?”
The wolf lifted its head, peering through Cody’s eyes, as intent on the
Marshal’s response as he was.

 
    
“Then I’ll have to let her go.”

 
    
Understanding passed through Cody. The
Marshal wanted Scarlett to want him. The same way the wolf did. They both
wanted her company. They wanted to shelter and protect her. They wanted her
love.

 
    
“Then it’s her choice.” The wolf snapped
its teeth at Cody’s response, but he ignored it.

 
    
The wolf wanted to claim Scarlett. But she
wasn’t his for the claiming. Cody would protect her from the wolf as readily
from Sam. The mournful howl in his soul echoed in his ears, but Cody stood firm
and offered the Marshal his hand.

 
    
“Then you’ll stay out of it?” Sam asked,
clasping the offered hand.

 
    
Cody grinned. “I didn’t say that. What kind
of a brother would I be if I didn’t make you work for it?”