TheSurrenderofLacyMorgan (25 page)

He’d kept himself from taking her again for her health. He
needed her at her best. He needed her to be sexy, alluring, a treasure
irresistible to Devil. Mostly he needed her strong and able to survive.

Survive better than Cap had at Devil’s hands.

“Quinn?”

“He was my hero.”

“Because he took you in.”

He turned to look at her, then tucked a wayward curl that
had escaped her braid back behind her ear. “Yes, he took me—all of us—in when
the world looked bleak and there was no hope on the horizon. But Cap did more
than just give us a home. He gave us family, futures, a sense of purpose. Cap
could read people.”

“Read people?” she asked with her brows drawn down.

He pulled her in against his chest. “Oh, he would’ve loved
meeting you. Yes, he could read people, know what kind of person they were,
what their needs were. Like Dakota. He understood my brother’s need to heal
people, and thereby heal himself. Cap recognized Will’s ability to bring peace
among us and find acceptance in his own place. Cap knew Nicco needs his
vengeance, that even while he controls his anger daily, when he finds the men
who murdered his family, he’ll loose that anger on them full force. And even
the duke. Cap saw past his arrogance to the frightened kid beneath and set him
on the path to find his justice.”

“And you? What did he find in you?”

“I’m the oldest, the last man in my natural family. It’s my
job to protect them all, even Cap. And I failed.”

“You know, he could’ve sent word for you to join him, but he
didn’t.”

“We wouldn’t have been there in time to stop the robbery. He
was the closest. He had to go.”

“Cap could’ve waited for you and then gone in search of
them.”

He shook his head. “Better to catch them in the act than
trail them. It’s one of the first things Cap taught me.”

“So you’re saying you failed even though you know your
father had to go after the gang, try to stop them before they rode out of
Cheyenne?”

He leaned back and studied her. “Sounds pretty stupid when
you put it like that.”

With a small lift of the corners of her mouth, she arched
one delicate brow at him. “I have a feeling Ian isn’t the only arrogant member
of your family.”

He pulled her close again. She was right. He couldn’t have
prevented Cap’s death or the bank robbery even if he’d known about it. That’s
what hurt the most. All the outlaws he’d hunted down, the innocent people he’d
fought to protect, and he’d been useless when Cap needed him most.

For a long while he held Lacy close. Her body pressed
against his eased some of the ache in his chest. The rain continued to fall as
if poured from a wide-lipped bucket.

“I’m guessing the valley is another two-day ride southwest
through the mountains. Am I right?” he finally asked.

“When I left, the snow filled my tracks before I’d ridden
two feet, so I headed due east in hopes of finding a town before I froze to
death,” she mumbled against his side. “I don’t remember how many days it took.
But this is the path we used to get back to the valley after the raid. We were
riding hell bent for leather, so my best guess is another day or two should
take us to the valley rim.”

“How many guards?” Dakota asked from behind them.

They turned to look at him seated, holding a bundle of
leaves over the fire.

“Always two. One at the base of the valley and one on the
rim to fire warning shots.”

Lacy moved back a step. Quinn released her and watched her
go sit near his brother, then joined them by the fire.

“What are you doing?” she asked Dakota.

“These are herbs. My mother taught me years ago which plants
to avoid because they could cause a person to sleep so deep they appeared dead,
or cause stomach ague and the trots.”

“Which are these?”

“Both.” Dakota winked at her.

“So why are you drying them?” She leaned in closer.

“Not too close,” Dakota warned. “I’m drying them to make
them more potent. But if you get a strong whiff of them as they’re drying, you
could get to feel their effects firsthand.” He gave her a grin.

She moved back and smiled at him.

Quinn fought the urge to wipe the grin off his brother’s
face—with his fist.

Damn it.
If he couldn’t tolerate Lacy having an
innocent conversation with the man he trusted to watch his back at all times,
how was he going to watch her tease and please Devil or his men?

The idea ate at his mind, tore at his gut.

He studied her as she talked with Dakota. He loved the
angles of her face, the softness of her skin, the fullness of her very sexy
mouth. Her eyes spoke volumes. When she was aroused, they darkened to the color
of a piece of old jade he’d seen in a museum once, and lightened to the color
of a spring meadow when something caught her curiosity.

“So you’re going to give this to the men to drink? Won’t
they notice the bitterness?”

“You’ve never tasted the whiskey served in the bars out
here, have you?” Quinn asked.

“Once. It tasted god-awful.” She made a face of pure
disgust.

He and Dakota both laughed.

“For once that will work in our favor. The minor bitterness
of the herbs will be masked by the rotgut in those bottles.” Dakota pointed his
thumb in the direction of the bottles of whiskey he’d unloaded from the
packhorse.

“How long will it take to work?”

“Probably an hour or two, depending on how fast they’ll
drink free whiskey. Each man will be different.”

“An hour or two.”

Quinn heard the quaver in her voice. He looked at Dakota,
who’d heard it too. The idea of being with Devil was already making her
nervous.

Arms curled around her knees, she pulled her top lip between
her teeth and stared into the fire. Even when she’d been dangling off the
horse’s saddle on the side of the mountain, she hadn’t looked this fragile.

He slid his hand down her arm and took her hand, giving it a
gentle tug. “Come here, darlin’.” He pulled her into his lap and cradled her
head against his chest. “I’ll be with you the entire time. And once Dakota is
sure the gang members are out cold, he’ll join us.”

“Will Devil get this whiskey too?”

“I’ll save one bottle just for him.”

“What if he doesn’t drink any?”

“Lacy, we’re going to bring him to justice, I promise. And
I’ll try to keep you from having to really do anything with him.”

She lifted her head to stare at him, nothing but sincerity
in her gaze. “But I might.”

He cupped her face between his hands. “Yes. You might, but
remember this. You won’t be trying to please Devil…”

“I’ll be trying to please you.”

“Right.” He smiled, then leaned in to kiss her long and
deep, trying to infuse her with all the courage and reassurance he could.
Which, given the sudden fear gnawing at his gut, was a miracle in itself.

* * * * *

“Why are we waiting another day?” Lacy asked, sitting
wrapped in her blanket near the fire. “Devil won’t wait too long after the pass
is open to make another raid.”

“Quinn wants to give you some more time to heal before we go
into the valley.” Dakota slowly ran the soapstone over the edge and tip of his
Bowie knife, like a man caressing his lover’s skin. Quinn had gone hunting for
game just after breakfast, leaving them alone. He’d said he needed to stretch
his legs.

“I’m healed now. The sooner we get this over, the better.”

Before I lose my nerve.
The closer they got to the
valley, the more she doubted she’d leave it alive.

“How soon after one raid does Devil usually stage another
one?”

“Depends on how soon they run out of money and whiskey.” She
picked up a stick and poked at the fire, making it spark and flame higher.

Please don’t ask me more.
In the days she’d been with
these men, she’d learned that Dakota had a way of seeing things best kept secret.

The crackle of the fire, the splatter of rain on the trees
and grass outside the stone outcropping, and the swoosh of the stone sliding
across metal broke the silence.

“What do you suppose happened to the money if he and his men
spent the winter snowed in the valley?”

“On our way back to the valley after the raid, we stopped
for supplies. Especially whiskey.”

“Between the paper money and the gold, the Army said they
lost nearly thirty thousand dollars with that payroll. That’s a lot of
whiskey.”

“Maybe he lost it?”

Again Dakota concentrated on sharpening his blade.

Her mind drifted back to the night she’d escaped.

“He could’ve killed you, love,” Santos whispered in that
seductively deep voice of his as he laid her naked, bleeding body facedown on
her cot. “I convinced him to let you live.”

She trembled, barely hearing his words over the pain in
her back. A moment later he ran his fingers over her cuts, bringing more pain,
then coolness. Salve. He was putting the salve she used to heal cuts on the
whip marks.

“Boss’ll want his answer and his money back tomorrow.”

Then he’d kill her, but not before he raped her.

“How’d you get those scars on your back, Lacy?”

Dakota’s quiet question startled her back to the present.
She slowly raised her gaze to stare across the fire at him.

He knew.

She swallowed the bile threatening to fill her throat.

“Part of our job is not only to bring Cap’s killers to
justice, but to return that payroll to the Army.”

The noose was tightening around her throat.

“You have to tell someone, pet.”

Suddenly a branch snapped outside their makeshift camp.

They both froze.

Dakota held his hand to his lips in a command for her
silence.

She mouthed, “Quinn?”

Dakota shook his head no. They both knew Quinn was as silent
in the woods as he.

Something or someone else moved out there.

With a wave of his hand, he motioned her to remain still and
silent, then rose and crawled out from beneath the ledge into the rainy forest,
his body quickly hidden by the mist and the branches.

Suddenly she felt more alone than she ever had, even on the
run from Devil.

Damn Quinn and Dakota for making her feel safe with their
constant presence and strength. They’d dulled her sense of self-preservation,
made her dependent on them.

She scanned the cave-like shelter, searching for some sort
of weapon. Against the wall lay the supplies they’d stowed out of the rain the
day before. Her carpetbag lay among the other sacks and saddlebags. Protruding
from it was the butt-end of her Colt.

Quickly she moved over and lifted the gun free, its weight
familiar and comforting in her hands. She checked the cylinder, hopeful yet not
surprised Quinn had unloaded it.

An enemy wouldn’t know that, however.

Carrying the weapon tucked behind her skirt, she eased her
way to the edge of the shelter. She leaned out and strained to hear any more
noise in the woods beyond.

A few minutes later a dull thud sounded deeper in the words.

What to do? Go try to find him? She’d more likely get lost
or injured.

What if
he
were injured? And where the hell was Quinn?

She moved back into the shelter of the cave, standing as
close to the cave walls to hide in the shadows as possible.

A movement stirred the trees beyond the stone outcropping.
She tightened her grip on the handle of the gun. As if conjured out of the
mist, a man’s shape took form in front of her, one she’d hoped never to see
again.

“’Fraid yer half-breed friend can’t help ya none, Lacy-loo.”

“Maddocks?” Revulsion at the near-toothless outlaw who’d
tried many times to corner her in the valley slid over her. She took a step
back. “How’d you find me?”

“The boss sent me out lookin’ for ya. And what did I find?
You whoring for two men in Goldwater.” He moved closer. Firelight glinted off
the dull metal of his gun. “Been trackin’ y’all since. ’Specially liked the
show ya put on by the river the other day.”

Suddenly something so special was turned ugly by the leer he
gave her. “Where’s Dakota? What did you do to him?”

“Just put him to sleep for a while. Didn’t see me hanging up
in the trees.” He gave a high-pitched laugh, then lifted his gun. “Now you and
me are gonna head on out for a little family-type re-union afore that other
hombre shows up.”

She lifted her revolver and pointed at his chest. “I don’t
think I’ll be going anywhere with you.”

He gave a hoot of a laugh. “Ya ain’t gonna shoot me,
Lacy-loo.”

Damn, she hated that name he’d called her since the day
they’d met. “I will, Maddocks, if you don’t leave right now.”

Please don’t let him call my bluff.

“No, ya ain’t. Coz if’n ya kill me ya won’t find that breed
friend o’ yers. And if ya miss, I’ll just tie ya up, then go slit his throat.
Either way, yer friend dies.”

She’d never thought Maddocks was too smart, but this time he
had her and he knew it. At this distance she wouldn’t miss if her own gun were
loaded, but she wouldn’t put Dakota’s life on the line. He’d been too good to
her. And Quinn? He didn’t deserve to lose another person he loved, not because
of her.

“If I go with you, you promise not to hurt him?”

“That’s right. Leave yer gun here. You’n me’ll just go
somewhere a bit more private and have us a little…chat.” He leered and let his
disgusting gaze travel over her, then waved the gun at the trail leading out
from the stony ledge.

She tossed the Colt where Quinn would see it when he
returned and maybe realize she’d tried to defend herself and Dakota. Then she
turned and led the way for the putrid man, knowing what “private chat” really
meant.

Please, God, let Dakota be okay.