“Take your hands off her,” Caleb warned.
Megan closed her eyes briefly, praying Caleb didn’t do anything foolish. She already knew they were only trying to torment her with their raunchy teasing. Nothing more.
The two men turned and looked at him with intense regard as a tense hush descended momentarily. Her heart sped up.
“And if we don’t?” Dutch asked coolly.
“You ain’t in no position to be making no threats,” Chewy reminded him bluntly.
“Untie me, and then we’ll talk,” Caleb smoothly replied with a challenge in his voice.
“Smart-ass mouth like Devin,” Rico remarked, sitting back in his chair. He propped his long legs on the edge of the table and crossed his ankles, as if enjoying the afternoon’s entertainment.
Dutch released her hair. His fingers went beneath her chin as his eyes remained on Caleb. She jerked back, causing him to face her with disapproval in his dark gaze.
Megan felt Shelby’s grip on her hand tighten as the young girl leaned in closer.
“You and her got something going on?” Dutch’s gaze dropped to her chest as she struggled to control her escalated breathing. Megan tried her best to hold her breath entirely to avoid drawing more attention to her already heaving breasts. Grateful for a change her small breasts weren’t as obvious, assumingly more enticing than, say, Cheri’s rising mountain tops.
Before Caleb could speak, Megan blurted, “He’s a preacher.”
All five men laughed.
Caleb clamped his mouth shut. He seemed to do his best not to look amused himself as he cast her a quick, bewildered look.
“If that don’t beat all. The devil has a preacher for kin,” Chewy remarked, chuckling as he walked back to the table.
Dutch took a step back, resting his hands on the shell belt strapped low on his hip. Disgust swept over his expression as he stared at Caleb. “Hell, that don’t mean a damn thing. I’ve seen plenty of preachers in whorehouses. I even fucked one of them so-called nuns. Course, she prayed the whole time.”
“’Wuz it cuz your pecker’s too little, or you just plain sorry when it comes to pleasing women?” Chewy’s voice held no mockery, and Megan found that amusing in itself.
“You go to hell, amigo, if he real holy man.” Pablo made a quick sign of the cross over his chest, as if that meager gesture would atone for his sins.
“I assure you, I’ve never been to a house of ill-repute in my life,” Caleb said.
Megan wondered if Caleb’s eloquently proclaimed statement was a lie. At least he sounded convincing, which made it easier for her to accept.
Dutch turned his attention to Megan, ignoring the comments of his cohorts. This time, he brushed the hair away from her face and allowed his fingers to stroke her skin.
She flinched. The clammy feel of his flesh, his putrid scent assaulted her senses. She would shoot him again if Rico hadn’t take her gun away.
“You ain’t gotta go far when you got this at home” Dutch said. “No wonder Devin hasn’t been visiting Cheri lately. Keeping it in the family. What’s that called?”
“Incest,” Rico supplied, with a nod of his head toward the fat man across the table. “Big Lou here can tell you all about it.”
Megan heard Big Lou let out a raucous snicker, and she could only cower at the sickening implication.
Dutch’s lips curled into a vile sneer, as he chuckled. “Yeah, that’s it. Momma must really be something. Tell me.” He glanced at Caleb and seemed to pause for effect, which only made her insides flip-flop. “What she like?”
“I told you to get your filthy hands off her,” Caleb growled. He jumped to his feet, lunging at Dutch and taking the chair strapped to his back with them as they tumbled to the floor.
The four men at the table emptied their seats instantly.
Megan’s heart beat so fast, she felt the vibration in her toes. Her entire body trembled, shook as she held onto the girls. They started to cry, witnessing Caleb being carried off.
Pablo was ordered to stay and keep an eye on them. Standing at the window close to the sofa, he gave her a half-English, half-Spanish account of the action. Excitedly, he threw blows at a ghost figure in front of him. He glanced at her periodically, either to make sure she stayed put or to judge her reaction—she didn’t know which.
She closed her eyes and tried desperately to shut down her emotions. Covering the girls ears so they wouldn’t hear over their muted whimpers, the disturbing sounds of wood breaking, harsh grunts, and coarse moans as blow after powerful blow, kick after swift kick found its target.
Megan couldn’t take it anymore. The mindless torture was driving her insane. Running through the open doorway, she screamed, “Stop it! You’re killing him.”
Pablo tried to pull her from the porch post she held onto with a death grip. She watched in horror as the tangled mass of men rolled on the ground, knowing Caleb was somewhere on the bottom.
“Please,” she begged. Burning tears rolled down her face, not really knowing what she begged for as Pablo unclenched her hands and dragged her back inside. “No! No! Let me go,” she cried, and to her amazement, he released her once they were back inside.
Emma and Shelby ran to her. Throwing her arms around them, she pulled them close. Thankful they were there, or else she would have surely sunk to the floor.
Somehow, she made it to her writing desk against the wall. Her entire body shook furiously. She leaned her hip against it for support. She was unable to breathe when two men carried Caleb inside a few minutes later. They held him up by the underarms with his hands still bound behind his back, feet dragging along the floor.
They dropped his bloody, limp body in front of the sofa, as though he was just another of their discarded cigarette butts or Chewy’s spent wad of chewing tobacco, and they simply walked away.
Emma stared at Caleb, silent tears running down her cheeks. Shelby looked up at Megan, her chubby, round face drenched with tears.
Fighting the sob bubbling in the pit of her stomach, Megan wiped her own tears away. She dried her wet fingers with a swipe of her skirt.
She took the girls by the hand. “Come with me, girls.” Resolved to remain calm for their sake, Megan pushed aside her fear and anger with the greatest of difficulty. Ignoring the cold, bitter, warning stares from the men, she led them to her bedroom. Once inside, she sat them on the edge of the bed and instructed them to remain quiet and wait for her. She walked into the kitchen, filled a bowl with water, and grabbed a dishtowel off the counter. Calmly, and with the shreds of dignity she could muster, she made her way across the room.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Rico inquired sharply as she passed the dining table.
Without so much as a pause, she kept walking until she reached Caleb. “I’ll not leave him like this.” She knelt down and began to gingerly wiped away the blood starting to congeal around his right eye, which had already doubled in size.
“Wait’ll Spawn show’s up. You’ll need a bigger bowl,” mumbled Dutch with wry amusement.
A few of the men chortled.
“I’ll use my mop bucket after Devin finishes with ya’ll.”
The room fell silent for a moment.
“Crazy, bitch,” grunted Rico under his breath after the stifling pause.
* * * *
“Ohhh,” Caleb groaned, forcing his eyelids open. One stubborn eye didn’t seem to want to open but a crack, and it hurt. A lot. In fact, every bone in his body protested the minimalist movement.
He was blearily aware of Megan’s movements as she laid her sewing on the side table and slid off the sofa to sit beside him on the floor.
Caleb became aware of the pillow under his head and a blanket covering his aching body. He smiled up at Megan. He instantly wanted to reach out and soothe the bruise that all but covered her cheek, kiss her softly, ease the sadness, worry in her eyes and make love to her until she was drowning in pleasure, trembling with climatic bliss. He doubted
he’d survive the effort it would require. “How long was I out this time?”
“It’s no time to joke, Caleb.” The frantic look in her eyes was no laughing matter. She was terribly afraid and for good reason. It didn’t matter how long he had slept. He was in deadly danger, and Megan and girls were in much worse. He didn’t even want to think about it. Time was running out.
“You’re right,” he muttered, grimacing as he tried to push himself up onto his elbows. With his hands still tied behind his back, he found the task difficult. The piercing stab of pain tearing through his chest warned him at least one, if not more ribs were bruised,. maybe even cracked or broken.
“Lay still, Caleb,” she ordered quietly. Her gaze dissected his every move with wariness. Concern deepened in her eyes. “The men are all outside. One’s on the porch. And the girls are in my room. I didn’t want them to see you like this.”
“There’s a knife in my right boot. I want you to cut the rope.” He managed to sound more authoritative than he felt. Damn outlaws. Not one of them bothered to untie him, even the odds, make it a fairer fight. What did he expect? They were walking around with lust in their eyes, hard-ons in their jeans, and revenge on their mind.
He preferred they work off their energy on him instead of on Megan. He’d managed several good blows with his thick skull, elbows, knees, and whatever body parts he rammed into flesh and bones. He was built to survive whatever they dished out. Megan, he wasn’t so sure.
Her eyes widened in shock. “You can’t be serious.”
“It’s the only way. They think I’m hurt. They won’t be expecting it.”
“Uh, Caleb, you are hurt.” She stared at him as though he’d lost his mind.
He frowned, ignoring the tormenting pain deep in his bones. “Megan, we don’t have time to argue. Cut me free. Where is Reed’s rifle?”
She glanced over her shoulder as they heard a wooden plank creak from a shift of weight out on the porch. She sighed deeply before turning back to him. He read the sudden edge of urgency in her eyes and fumed with fury. Big Lou, on the other side of the wall, scared her. He frightened her more than the other men. After the earlier disclosure, he understood why.
“They found it.” He stared as her dainty hand disappeared under the blanket. Her eyes flittered back and forth from the open doorway to her concealed hand. As her fingers moved over his legs, his body tensed. The warmth of her fingers seared his skin through the fabric. Lust, hot and addictive, pulsed through his system and clouded his mind with a different, more intense, tormented agony. He sighed roughly and felt his cock stiffen outright when she pulled his trouser leg over his boot and slipped her soft hand inside the cool leather in search of the sheathed knife.
At the sound of his blatant demonstration of arousal at so minor a stimulant, she turned around. He watched as her brows rose in mock amusement, but there was a flicker of undeniable passion in the hazel depths. He shrugged his shoulders innocently. In his present condition, there wasn’t much else he could do as she tucked the knife under the blanket, near his hip.
“And your gun,” he breathed harshly, fighting the consuming lust threatening to burst against his trousers with or without her assistance.
“They took it.” She rolled him over slightly, cutting through the rope tightly bound around his wrists.
Closing his eyes, he groaned through gritted teeth, positive more than one rib clamored for sympathy. If even one rib was broken and he made a wrong move, the ragged bone could pierce his lung, a chance he was willing to take for Megan’s sake.
There wasn’t any way of knowing when Devin would return. Sooner or later, the men were going to tire of waiting. Their only chance of survival was if he could get his hands on a gun. He knew it and suspected Megan knew it, as well.
“We have to think of a way to get the one with a sling close. I believe I can manage to take his gun from him.”
“I shot him in the shoulder,” she confessed as his hands finally came free. “That’s why I told them you were a preacher. They would have made you patch him up. So he can turn around and shoot Devin. I couldn’t stand for that.”
Lying back, he rubbed the rope burns on his wrists under the blankets. It was common knowledge even the notorious gunslingers seldom shot down a doctor in the event their services where ever required. After the bruise they gave Megan, he wouldn’t have lifted a finger to help.
“A school teacher would have been more believable than a preacher.” His intent wasn’t to chastise or be overly critical of her quick wit. Not in the least. At the present moment, he aimed to relieve her mind of their dire circumstances. Even if for just a moment. “Perhaps even a lawyer. I don’t exactly look like the most holiest of men.”
At the wicked gleam in his eye and huskiness in his voice, Megan rolled her eyes. “Caleb, you’re too weak to be thinking about that now,” she said in a chiding tone, low enough so the man on the porch wouldn’t hear.
“Stick your hand back under the blanket. You’ll find out how weak I am.” He grinned. A most delicious grin that made the flesh between her thighs throb with acute awareness and her body flush with desire as her gaze lowered. The long, thick outline was quite noticeable underneath the smooth, thin cotton blanket covering his hips.
She smiled at him, remembering how a few days ago while the girls were in school, he made her come twice with just a flick of his tongue. Oh, how long ago it seemed. “Don’t men ever think of anything else?”
“No,” he answered quickly in a seductive whisper that made her shiver. She felt her breasts swell and, her nipples harden with longing. Saw his eyes lower to the peaks she knew were straining against the front of her bodice. His awareness of her response darkened his gaze. The tip of his tongue slid between his lush lips, slowly stroked over the top, then wet the full bottom lip, as though eager to repeat the motion on her nipples. She couldn’t help but moan helplessly at the sight, desperate to have those lips on her.
“But I guess I have to, so we can get out of this mess and finally get ourselves married. I’m looking forward to our wedding night.” His voice was rough and the flare of desire, the burning need in his heavy-lidded eyes only heightened her lust for him. Her body ached for him, his touch, kiss, his everlasting love.
Despite their dire situation and the inappropriateness of the moment, she could not help but think about being married to Caleb. Truthfully, she’d looked forward to their wedding night since the age of thirteen. At night, while living in Jazelle’s attic, she wondered what it would be like to have Caleb already warming the sheets as she crawled into bed, doing to her what those men downstairs did to the women she watched through the peepholes. Now that she knew, a flare of arousal pulsed through her body and heated her blood.
“Told you we didn’t kill ‘em,” Chewy shouted as he entered the house, causing Megan to jump and jerk back the hand reaching underneath the blanket. He spoke over his shoulder at Big Lou, who continued to keep watch on the porch. For a moment, he regarded Caleb with icy contempt.
“He just woke up,” Megan said hastily, rising to her feet after quickly rearranging the blanket to hide Caleb’s proof his virility prevailed despite his physical limitations. She took a deep breath to regain her composure at being caught ready to stick her hand under Caleb’s blanket in an attempt to make him forget his troubles. At least, that’s what she was trying to convince herself was the sole reason. “I was about to get him something to eat.”
“Why don’t you fix something for lunch so’s we can all eat.” He dipped the cup he removed from the shelf over the counter into the water barrel. He drained the contents in one long gulp, then let out a deep belch.
Glancing downward fleetingly, she slowly kicked the protruding knife handle under the blanket with her tip of her shoe. Her skirt shielded the small movement.
“Certainly,” she replied rather pleasantly, crossing her arms over her chest as she made her way to the kitchen. “It shouldn’t take me long at all.”
&nb
sp; Chapter 28
“Whoa!” Devin signaled, holding up a staying hand late in the afternoon as he and Rising Sun made their way down the rode leading to the ranch house. His line of vision narrowed as his eyes swept over the yard, taking in every detail. The hens were loose, clucking like they hadn’t eaten in days. Megan’s garden hadn’t been weeded in some time. No horses exercised in the corral. Plenty of foot traffic in front of the house. Large prints, akin to male footprints. Numerous male prints littered the dirt courtyard. And for a beautiful, sunny Saturday afternoon, instead of playing outside, the girls were nowhere to be seen.
With a head jerk, he motioned for Rising Sun to pull back.
They did so quickly, lifting little dust in their wake as Devin scanned the hill on his right and the grove of trees off to his left. Habit. Ensuring they hadn’t been spotted, in case someone was on the lookout.
“Something’s not right.” Devin racked his brain for an answer as to why he hadn’t listened to his gut instinct the past few days. Caught up in thinking of Megan, he brushed aside every alarm going off in his mind, chalking it up to unmanageable lust. He was so horny, so frustrated, and so damned lonely. Hell, he was just plain miserable since he left her nearly a month ago. Out of desperation to preserve his sanity, he ignored the signals.
Try as he might, no longer could he blame his carnal urges. Suddenly acknowledging Deuce’s rough gait the past couple of miles. Shit. His damned horse had sensed danger before he did.
He hoped he was in time.
Rising Sun regarded him silently.
Scowling in anger and frustration, Devin looked over at his companion and grumbled decisively. “They’re in trouble.”
He steered a course straight behind the barn. Rising Sun followed.
* * * *
“No matter how many times I walk past, he’s more interested in their card game.” Megan slumped back on the sofa, resting her head against her hand, her elbow propped on the padded arm. Her tone held a touch of exasperation. She bit her lip, as if in deep concentration.
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