But just as quickly as Hunt had attacked, he released her.
Liora gasped in precious gulps of air, coughing and heaving.
Hunt stepped back, giving his jacket and sleeves a tug. He heaved Aurora to her feet and plunked her onto the settee. Then he sank down beside her as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.
“Joe would kill you if he was here,” Aurora spat at him.
Hunt ignored her. He angled his head and studied Liora for a long moment, then a slow smile broke over his lips. “He can’t kill me because he went out to the camp looking for me, didn’t he?” He slapped his thigh. “This is going to be even easier than I thought.”
“What’s going to be easier?” Liora rubbed at the raw skin of her throat, hoping he couldn’t read her dread at the prospect of his answer.
Hunt seemed to ponder. “Well… as I’ve just proven, I could simply finish you off here and now. Leave you for the deputy to find the next time he swings by. And my, wouldn’t he be disappointed? I hear you two have taken quite a shine to each other!”
Liora refused to acknowledge that comment with a reply.
“But the moment I laid eyes on you…” He made an appreciative sound, like a man tasting chocolate cake for the first time, and his gaze raked over her. “What an addition you’d be to my business. You remind me of…someone. A woman who used to work for me, maybe?”
Liora gritted her teeth. She would die before reminding him that her mother had worked for him up until a few years ago.
“Can’t quite place who, though.” He waved a hand. “Makes no never mind. Like I said… Right up until the moment I laid eyes on you today I planned to kill you. But now…I need to do some thinking.” He gestured with his pistol to the chair across the room. “Sit.”
His stomach rumbled loudly in the silence. “On second thought”—he motioned her toward the kitchen—“You can cook some vittles for me. I’ve been so worked up all day that I haven’t taken time to eat properly.”
Liora actually felt relieved. She would at least have something to do other than sit here and contemplate the end of her and Rory’s lives. And maybe with her and Hunt in the kitchen, Rory would be able to find a way to escape her bonds.
But as if the very thought had just occurred to Hunt, he paused. “Up!” he said to Rory.
She stood slowly, her balance precarious with her ankles bound together and her hands tied behind her back.
He gestured her toward the table. “Jump.”
Aurora rolled her eyes. But she did jump. All the way until she crashed against the table to keep her balance.
Hunt pushed one of the chairs away from the table with a shove from his boot. “Sit!” he barked at her. When she complied, he turned his attention on Liora once more. “Bacon and eggs. And biscuits. And be quick about it.”
Liora felt the first rays of hope she’d felt since she walked inside. He was really going to let her have hot grease? She would cook for him with pleasure!
She built up the fire and set the cast-iron skillet on the hottest part of the stove. Then she lifted the lid on the icebox and retrieved the paper-wrapped packet of bacon. By the time she’d cut several thick slices, the pan was hot. She layered the meat into the pan, then looked at Hunt. “I’ve only got three eggs left. Will that do?” She tempered her voice to make him think she felt compliant.
He waved his pistol in a way that was at once a dismissal and an acceptance, then paced to the window to peer through the curtains.
While his back was turned, Liora quickly scooped up a large spoonful of bacon grease from the jar she kept by the stove and plopped it into the pan with the bacon. The more hot grease she had, the better, as far as she was concerned. She plunked the spoon back into the jar just as he spun to face her once more.
His gaze swept over her like a businessman assessing wares he planned to stock in his store.
A shiver ran down her spine and she turned her back on him. She had biscuits left over from last night’s dinner. She put two into the warming drawer of the stove.
Hunt turned back to the window. His contemplative silence was even more unnerving than his assessing scrutiny.
Liora met Aurora’s gaze across the sideboard.
Aurora looked pointedly at the block of sharp knives next to the stove.
Hunt pivoted to assess her again.
Liora poked at the bacon, hoping he hadn’t noticed where their attention had wandered.
“Perhaps I could let you live. There might be a way.”
Liora scoffed. “With what you pulled in town today? The law is going to pursue you till your last breath. And I’ve lived the life you are offering. I’d rather die than go back to it.”
“We’ll see if your tune changes when you are kneeling behind a tree with my pistol to your head. Besides…” He waved a hand in the general direction of Wyldhaven. “They have no proof.”
“They have Kin’s word.” Too late she realized her careless proclamation might condemn Kin to his death, so she added, “And now mine.”
“And mine,” Aurora piped up.
Hunt cursed them all. “You’re both making a very good case why I should let neither of you live.” He prodded at the curtains, once more skimming the hills around the cabin. Was he merely searching for the arrival of the law? Or was there something else he was looking for?
Taking up a plate, she laid a cloth napkin, a mug, and a setting of silver on it. Lifting out the smallest knife in the block, she moved to the table and began to loudly set a place. Just as she’d hoped, Hunt gave her a cursory glance before returning his focus out the window.
She lifted the paring knife into her hand. She thought about simply thrusting it into Hunt’s back, but it was too small and he would be on her before she could do enough damage to hurt him.
On her way back to the kitchen, Liora eased the knife into Aurora’s bound hands.
The bacon was soon ready to flip and Liora set the eggs to cooking in a smaller pan—with more bacon grease.
She kept half an eye on Rory. Was she having any success sawing through the ropes? She sat so still, Liora couldn’t tell if she was making any headway, or not. There wasn’t anything they would be able to do about her ankles. If Aurora bent over to work on those ropes, Hunt was sure to notice. How were they to escape, then?
She watched the bacon bubble and splatter for a moment.
His eyes. The grease would have to go in his eyes. Then maybe he’d be blinded and in enough agony that they would have time to get the ropes untied or cut. She angled a look to where he still stood at the window. She felt guilty simply for thinking it. Not even a man like Hunt deserved such a fate, but what other option did she have? The parson had entrusted Rory into her protection. And it was Hunt or them.
She flipped the eggs over and checked on the biscuits.
Another check of Rory showed a slight smile on her face.
Liora lifted her brows.
Rory gave a subtle dip of her chin.
Sweet Jesus, be praised. The girl had done it.
Liora gave Rory a cautious nod that she hoped communicated she should be ready to move. Her heart beat so hard against her sternum, she feared Hunt would be able to hear it, but he remained focused out the window.
He was tall. She needed him to sit. There was no way she would be able to toss the hot grease from near his plate at the table all the way over to the window and be accurate enough to ensure some got in his eyes.
She took a steadying breath. “If you’ll just come sit at the table, I’ll serve up your plate.” She pulled the warmed biscuits from the oven and balanced them on the edge of the skillet, then transferred the eggs over onto the slices of bacon.
Hunt didn’t move. “Come get my plate, put all the food on it, then bring it back and set it down.”
She stilled. Had he guessed what she was up to? Fear quaked through her. How was she going to get Rory out of this mess if the man was always one step ahead of her?
Rory remained calm. And again it was a small direction of her eyes that made Liora look to the pint jar of grease by the stove. Realization tingled over her scalp. The jar was small enough that she could hold it in one hand, and it had enough room for the hot grease in the pan. It was her only shot.
“Yes, sir.” Liora scurried to the table and retrieved Hunt’s plate. Back at the stove, she served up the bacon and eggs, and set the biscuits to one side of the plate. She wanted to pour the hot grease into the jar and immediately take it with her, but it was too soon. He was too much on his guard. She left the pan on the stove where it would keep the grease hot, and even set the mason jar up beside it.
Then she stepped over to the table. She used the walk to assess the ties around Rory’s ankles. There was enough space between her ankles that she would be able to get a knife in between to slice the ropes. Thankfully, Joe had just stropped her large meat knife the other day.
Liora set the plate on the table, folded her hands before herself in plain sight, and stepped back. “Would you like some coffee?”
Please God, make him say yes.
Hunt turned, and slowly assessed her and then the plate of food. After a moment, he must have decided it was safe to sit, because he nodded and pulled out his chair. “Coffee. Yes.”
Liora didn’t dare look at Aurora. This was going to be their only chance. If they didn’t escape from Hunt the first time, there would be no other escape.
Jesus, please forgive me for what I’m about to do…
Back in the kitchen, she hoped her back would block her actions from Hunt, but Aurora must have thought of that too, because she spoke suddenly into the silence of the room. “I’ll keep silent, I swear. But please Mr. Hunt, you just have to let me live. I’m only seventeen. I have my whole life ahead of me. What can I do to make you keep me alive?”
Hunt’s laughter grated. “Desperation does not become you, my dear.”
Liora poured the hot grease from the skillet into the mason jar.
Rory added a few sobs to her repertoire. “I’m only desperate because you’ve made me so! Please, Mr. Hunt, you simply can’t refuse me!”
Hunt slapped her. “I’ll refuse anyone, anyplace and anytime I like.”
The slap rocked Rory back in her chair. She blinked and spat blood from a split lip.
Liora flinched, but knew that Rory was sacrificing so they could make an escape. She forced herself not to react to what was happening at the table.
Rory remained silent for only as long as it took her to shake off the slap. “The law will never let you stay in business!” Anger bit off the end of each word.
Hunt snorted. “The law isn’t going to be a problem for me.”
Liora knew she needed to get back to the table. Rory had done an admirable job of creating a diversion, and everything was ready, but Hunt’s comment had made Liora’s heart stutter to a stop and then kick up like a team of stampeding horses.
Her gaze traveled to the window. Why had he been watching the surrounding hills so intently?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
At the cutoff road that led to the back of Liora’s property, Joe pulled his mount to a skidding halt. “We should split up. Kin will need to keep the wagon on the road, and he’ll need some help in case he runs into any trouble. Zane, Ewan, and Doc, you all go with Kin. Reagan, Wash and Preston, come with me.” He kicked his mount into a gallop again, too late realizing that he maybe should have left the bossing up to Reagan. With his fear for Liora mounting with every minute that it took to get to the cabin, his only thought had been to instruct and keep moving.
Thankfully, none of the others seemed too taken aback by it, and everyone split off as he’d instructed. The group taking the road would arrive at the house about ten minutes later than the rest of them.
Joe could only hope and pray he and his half of the posse wouldn’t be too late to save Liora and Rory.
All the while praying for Joe’s safety, Liora took up a towel, wrapped the jar of hot grease, and tucked it behind her back.
“Kill me if you must, then!” Rory spat at Hunt, still doing her part to distract the man. “I would never work for you anyhow!”
Hunt lurched to his feet. “Kid, you’d better shut up or I’ll—”
“Coffee’s ready,” Liora interjected. Lifting the pot, she started for the table, relieved to see Hunt sink back into his seat.
Hunt’s attention transferred to her, immediately on the alert. He watched the coffeepot like a hawk, tense and ready to leap back if she tried anything.
Liora willed her hand not to tremble. She filled the cup to just below the rim. “Cream? Sugar?” she asked, drawing the coffeepot away from him.
His gaze sharpened on her other hand. “What’s that behind your back?”
Liora’s heart stuttered to a standstill. She blinked at him, feeling frozen. If she tried to throw it at him, would he simply leap out of the way? “Whatever do you mean—”
Aurora lurched to her feet and plunged the short knife Liora had given her into Hunt’s thigh.
He bellowed curses, and the swing of his fist caught Aurora’s collarbone and knocked her over. He started after her. “How did you get free you little—”
Liora dashed the pint jar of hot grease against the side of his face.
Hunt screamed and lurched back, clawing at his eye and swiping at his ear.
Grease dribbled down his cheek and onto his chest. The skin across his nose and around his eyes was already bubbling. The wounded eye closed, he staggered toward her and swung his arms wildly.
Liora dodged under his swing. She yanked the lid off the pot and followed the grease with the hot coffee. Straight into his face.
He staggered back blindly, screaming and clawing at his face.
“Rory, go! Jump for the porch!”
Rage purpling his features, Hunt fumbled to get his pistol out of his holster.
“Rory!” Liora only had time for that one word of warning before a bullet whined past her cheek.
She dove forward, and clapped one hand over Rory’s mouth.
Where only a moment ago, Hunt had been screaming and writhing, now he stood perfectly still. He was listening. Listening for any sound to shoot at, head cocked, jaw rock hard, blood oozing down his leg from the knife wound. He swayed on his feet.
They huddled together. Rory’s eyes were large and frightened.
Liora kept her fingers over the girl’s mouth, her own heart a thudding tympani in her ears. Surely, he could hear them breathing?
But his own breaths were ragged with agony. Laced with torment.
He twisted toward them, and Liora had to look away from the grotesque visage of his blistered face and milky burned eyes. Guilt traipsed through her at what she’d done. Could they have escaped by another means? No. This had been her only chance to save Aurora.
Even now they were still too exposed! But what should she do? To move would reveal their location.
“Where are you?” Hunt’s curses bellowed through the room.
Bullets sprayed.
One pinged off the stove.
Another cut a gouge into the log wall by the kitchen door.
Liora literally bit down on her tongue to keep from crying out. Any sound at this moment could be the end of them.
She needed to get Aurora’s ankles unbound, but she’d never had a chance to get the knife from the kitchen. And trying to untie the hemp rope would make too much noise.
Her eyes fell to the lid of the coffeepot that lay on the ground a couple feet away.
Slowly, she released Rory, reminding her to remain silent with a finger laid across her lips. Then she eased forward, never taking her eyes off Hunt. She clenched her teeth and very carefully lifted the lid, making sure the metal didn’t clink or scrape against the floor.
She tossed it into the kitchen. It clattered off the pump handle and clanged into the sink.
Just as she’d hoped, Hunt shot twice in the direction of the sound, and L
iora urged Rory to crawl toward the front door.
But Hunt swung toward them!
They’d made too much noise!
“Go!” Liora urged Rory onward.
Bang!
Splinters chipped out of the floor and slashed against her cheek.
And then silence fell.
Eyes wide, Rory glanced over her shoulder.
Swiping at the sting on her cheek, Liora glanced back too. He was out of bullets! His fingers, burned and swollen from the grease he’d swiped at, fumbled to remove one from the bandolier around his waist.
Liora’s focus landed on the heavy log table.
“Rory!” Liora motioned.
On their knees, together they shoved the table up and pushed it until it tumbled forward into Hunt’s legs.
Cursing and roaring, he stumbled backward. Tripped by his chair and pushed by the weight of the table, he fell against the wall with the table lying halfway over his legs. Hunt’s face was so red now, that it was a wonder he hadn’t collapsed from his fit of rage. He thrashed once more, then went still.
Liora snatched up her long meat knife and yelled for Rory’s attention. “Don’t move!”
It only took her two strokes to saw through one strand of the ropes and that loosened them enough that they were easily removed.
“Run!” Liora shoved the girl toward the door.
Rory complied and Liora was fast on her heels.
They sprinted across the yard, and Liora wouldn’t let Rory stop until they were all the way up the hill and onto the road. There they bent, propped their hands on their knees, and gasped for air.
And that was when they heard the cocking of several guns.
They looked up.
Burt Pike and four other men stepped out from behind trees.
“Well, look here,” Pike drawled. “I didn’t expect this. How did you escape the boss?”
Liora’s shoulders slumped. “Aren’t you supposed to be locked up in the Wyldhaven jailhouse? How did you get out?”
Pike offered a mocking grin. He swung a nod toward a small man off to one side. “Hunt sent Samuel there to blast us out, knowing all the law would be out to the camp looking for him. Guess it’s a good thing he did.” He gestured with his gun. “Now hands up and back to the cabin with you.”
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