TheSurrenderofLacyMorgan (30 page)

The whipping post.

The spot where they’d tortured Lacy.

He glanced to his right. Sitting as straight as a branding
iron, head held high, Lacy stared in the opposite direction. As always, her
courage touched him deeply.

Once they reached the tavern, Quinn and the men slid from
their saddles. Lacy remained in hers, just as they’d planned.

“What’s the matter, girl, forget how to get off yer horse?”
Devil spit another stream of tobacco juice into the dirt.

“I didn’t tell her to dismount,” Quinn said, walking around
the horse to help Lacy down. He wanted everyone in the valley convinced she was
his property. He locked his gaze with hers, willing her to take some strength
from him. “She obeys me and no one else.”

“You been training her right?” Devil leered at her again.

“I b-bet he’s been t-trainin’ her—right between her legs,”
Short-and-nervous said, then made a humping action with his hips.

The man would pay for that, soon.

A light flush of embarrassment spread over Lacy’s face and
chest. Anger filled her eyes, but she didn’t break eye contact with Quinn. A
moment later she gave a slight nod to indicate she was ready.

He turned to Dakota. “Stay with the horses,” he ordered as
if Dakota too obeyed him. They needed Devil focused only on him and Lacy, not
what Dakota would be up to.

Gripping Lacy by the elbow, he could feel the fine tremors
showing her fear. The action allowed him to support her, but gave the illusion
he was forcing her to come with him. Quinn followed Devil inside the log
structure, ducking to get inside the doorframe.

The stench of body odor hit him as soon as they were inside,
followed quickly by the smell of bad whiskey.

Quinn glanced around the room, sizing up the situation.

Three men, their hats pulled low, sat at a table in the back
corner. Quinn recognized two of them from Wanted posters for other robberies.
This was their lucky day. He was only after the people who killed Cap.

A fat woman, her breasts half-falling out of her dress,
leaned against the bar. Behind it stood a bald man with a gray shirt, scraggly
beard and suspenders. Counting the lookouts, but not the women, that made a
dozen outlaws so far.

Shit.
He’d hoped the open spring pass and the bounty
on Lacy would’ve forced more of Devil’s men out of the valley, making their
odds better.

No such luck.

Dakota’s herbal-laced whiskey better work. Or they were dead
meat.

Chapter Fifteen

“Where can I find water for our horses?” Dakota asked the
big outlaw who’d remained outside with him. The man’s shorter friend had
hurried after Devil and the others into the tavern.

“Over at the barn’s a trough or there’s a creek running over
by the valley wall.” The outlaw pointed to the tree-lined area some three
hundred yards away.

No way was he going that far. He needed to be close in case
Quinn or Lacy needed him.

“Horses are tired. Just a’soon use the trough,” he said,
leading their horses to the corral. He wasn’t surprised when the outlaw
followed him. He dismounted and opened the spout from the water barrel to fill
the trough for the four animals. The big man and the other three hombres at the
corral watched without lifting a finger to help. He had no doubt any of them
would slit his throat if he made the wrong move.

“Whatcha got in that box?” The tallest man, leaning against
the corral post, nodded at the packhorse.

Dakota fought back a grin. They’d taken the bait. “Boss’s
whiskey.”

“Hell, we got whiskey,” another of the men said, laughing at
his own humor and elbowing one of the others. “We got women, too, don’t we,
Slim?”

“Boss is particular about his women and his whiskey.” He
untied the box and lowered it to the ground as if it were a sacred treasure.
That drew the quartet a few steps closer.

“Mmm, that Lacy looked better than ever,” the big man said.

“Sure did, Mos. Like something special.” Slim leaned in as
Dakota opened the box. “Your whiskey special like her?”

“Boss thinks so.” Dakota pulled out one of the doctored
bottles so the men could see the label, recognizing it as good whiskey. Then he
looked back at the tavern, as if considering how much trouble he’d be in if he
shared with them. Forbidden fruit was always the most tempting. “He won’t miss
one bottle. Why don’t y’all take this one into the barn and see how smooth it
is. I’ll deliver the boss his and come join y’all in a few moments.”

Grins spread on all four faces. They signaled the three camp
whores to join them as they carried the bottle into the barn to enjoy the
wares.

Dakota tied the horses’ reins to the corral near a grassy
spot for grazing, then hefted the box of whiskey and headed to the tavern.
Hopefully the group would be out fast. He still had to deal with the lookouts
or their escape was doomed.

* * * * *

Quinn leaned back in his chair and pulled Lacy around to
stand behind him. The closer he kept her, the less easy it was for Devil to
grab her. And he could see the lust in the outlaw’s cold, dark eyes. It wasn’t
just the look of a man wanting to touch or fuck a beautiful woman. No, he
wanted to hurt her, bad.

The idea turned Quinn’s stomach. He ought to put a bullet
between the snake’s eyes right now and be done with it.

You have a job to do, son. No matter how ugly the varmint
or his deeds, you must get justice for the innocents.
Cap always pushed him
to do the right thing.

Could he do any less for his mentor, his father’s memory?

The door behind them opened. Dakota entered with the box of
whiskey, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Your breed ain’t welcome here.” Devil spat on the floor and
wiped his sleeve over his mouth.

The only acknowledgement Dakota gave Devil’s slur was a
slight quirking of one brow.

It never failed to amuse his blood brother that he was far more
civilized and educated than the vermin like those in the room with them.

“What’s he got in the box?” Short-and-nervous asked.

Something you’re going to regret drinking in the morning.

“Whiskey,” was all Dakota said.

“Hell, we got whiskey.”

“Not like this.”

Dakota hefted the box onto the bar and lifted one bottle out
so they could all see the label. Then he brought it to the table, setting it
beside Quinn.

Devil eyed the bottle and licked his lips. “Ain’t had any of
that in years.”

“Why don’t we all have some while we parley a bit?”

“Don’t mind if I do, Halliday.”

Quinn opened the only bottle not laced with Dakota’s herbs
and poured some into both his and Devil’s glasses. He nodded to Dakota who got
out a few bottles and distributed them to the other desperados.

“You finished outside?” Quinn asked when all the others were
drinking the tainted liquor.

“Just about.”

Dakota slipped back out the door.

Eyes on his nemesis, Quinn lifted his glass and sipped,
letting the smooth amber fluid burn its way down his throat. Lacy’s hand slid
down on to his shoulder. Time to tempt the Devil.

Lacy stood behind Quinn’s chair, hands on his shoulders,
staring at the nightmare from her past. How could she pretend to feel anything
but loathing for the monster?

“So, you tamed the hellcat?” Devil leered at her over his
glass of whiskey. The cool mountain air wasn’t the only chill that crept over
her skin. Her stomach turned. Any moment she’d hurl her afternoon meal on the
tavern’s plank floor.

It had been bad enough enduring the whistles and lewd
comments from the men, and the name calling from Daisy over at the bar after
Quinn half dragged her into the tavern, but knowing she’d willingly put herself
into Devil’s hands before they left the valley ate at her soul.

A tremble of revulsion ran through her.

“It didn’t take me long to wear the sass out of her,” Quinn
drawled with a laugh in his voice at the same time he reached up and laid his
hand over one of hers. Its warmth reminded her she could trust him and took the
sting out of his comments to Devil.

She relaxed, flashed a saucy look at her nemesis and stroked
her free hand across Quinn’s shoulder and up his neck.

Devil licked his lips, then took another long draw on his
drink. “I’d nearly broke the filly myself before she snuck out of here last
fall.”

Another ripple of fear ran through her at the mention of her
whipping.

Quinn tensed beneath her hands.

It was her turn to calm him. She leaned in, making sure
Devil saw the mounds of her breasts, and swirled her tongue over Quinn’s ear.
“He can’t hurt me with you here to protect me,” she whispered.

Quinn laughed. “You’re damn right, darlin’.”

“What did the bitch say?” Devil swiped his sleeve over his
lips then adjusted his crotch.

What a pig.

“Seems she prefers my way of taming her over yours,” Quinn
drawled, tweaking Devil’s temper.

Devil shot Lacy a glare. “Keep it up, girl. You won’t be
laughing when I lay my whip across your backside agin.”

“Like I said, I didn’t bring her back to you for nothing. I
expect to get paid well for this piece of ass.” To emphasize his words, Quinn
slid his hand up her skirt in the back, exposing her long thigh and one ass
cheek.

Whatever you do, you do it to please me only, no one
else.

Lacy focused on Quinn’s words from days before as he
displayed her flesh for the lecherous group. It relaxed her, as did the warmth
of his calloused hand rubbing slowly over her flesh.

“She’s something special, isn’t she? All that smooth, creamy
golden skin?” He continued to knead her ass cheeks, moving her so she was pressed
against his body, her backside naked. “Worth her weight in gold, don’t you
think?”

“She tell you why I want her back?” Devil stared at her ass
then licked his lips.

Lacy cringed inwardly but fought to keep her face impassive.

“Besides wanting to fuck her crazy?”

“Yeah, more’n that.”

“Said she took something of yours that pissed you off worse
than a bronc with a burr under his saddle.” He slid his fingers down between
her thighs, sending a shiver of a different kind through her. “Said I’d find
out when we got here.”

“Bitch stole my gold and money. And I mean to get it back.”

Quinn paused with his hand between her thighs, as if the
information was new to him. “Seems we have a problem then. I ain’t handing her
over without some compensation, and you can’t get me the money until we get
this little slut to tell us where she hid it.”

God, she hated being talked about like a piece of meat, but
they had to keep Devil interested and distracted until Dakota returned.

“Give her to me and I’ll beat it out of her.”

Devil motioned to Harris.

The short, nervous henchman moved two steps before Devil
stared down the barrel of Quinn’s Colt. “Don’t think so, hombre. No one touches
my woman until I’m paid.”

The sound of four guns being drawn and the click of a rifle
being aimed filled the room.

* * * * *

In the darkening night, Dakota eased in behind the second
lookout. The first had been dispatched with ease and hardly a sound.

It was crucial he render this outlaw useless as quickly as
possible and get back to Quinn and Lacy.

“Clancy, you awake?” The man called across the abyss
separating the two canyon rims.

No answer came.

None would.

Dakota took another step closer, careful not to snap a twig.

Because of his early childhood tracking with his mountain
man father, he’d always been the quietest of Cap’s boys. In fact, Cap had asked
him to teach the others, especially Ian, how to move about as silent as deer in
the forest.

“Stealth in a lawman is even more important than in an
outlaw,”
Cap said when the others balked at having one of their own be
their teacher.

“Clancy?” the watchman called louder.

Just as Dakota reached for him, the man bolted upright and
turned, which brought them face-to-face.

“What the hell…” The man tried to lower his rifle.

Dakota elbowed upward, knocking it out of his hand before he
could get off a shot. The movement forced the man off balance and forward,
landing right on top of Dakota.

Air rushed out of his lungs, but years spent wrestling his
brothers had taught him how to react and he sucked a breath back in. He grabbed
the man by his shoulders and shoved, at the same time twisting his lower half
to throw off his weight.

The pair came up into a crouch facing each other.

The outlaw reached down his leg and came up drawing a
wicked-looking knife and a grin on his face. “Want to dance, breed?”

Dakota slid his Arkansas toothpick from the sheath tied to
his thigh, a slow smile turning up the corners of his lips.

* * * * *

Below, in the darkness, a lone rider picked his way through
the maze that was the valley entrance, the faint sound of spurs jangling
against the sides of his mount’s flesh.

* * * * *

Lacy’s heart jumped into her throat and she leaned farther
into Quinn’s side.

“You’re dead, mister,” Devil said with one of his evil
grins. “No way you can outshoot all my men, no matter how fast you shoot.”

“Maybe, maybe not, but I promise you one thing…”

“What’s that?”

“No matter what else happens, you won’t be leaving this
table breathing.”

Understanding dawned on Devil and the grin slowly slid from
his face. He swallowed twice. For the first time since she’d known him, the man
was afraid—very afraid. Despite the danger, Lacy wanted to shout with glee, but
remained calmly glued to Quinn’s side instead.

“Put down your guns,” Devil ordered his men.

“But, B-boss, we can t-take him,” Harris whined.