by Multiple
“We got the gold.” Kid nodded to the men who were passing heavily laden oil sacks to Cobb. The older man accepted each, until they were stacked, ten in all, at his feet.
Shoving back his Stetson, Sam chuckled. “I’ll be damned. How?”
The men around Kid just shook their heads, obviously not interested in telling his story for him. Sam nodded to them all.
“Tend your horses and head over to the saloon. Drinks on me tonight, boys. I’ll send word to the restaurant to send over some food. You have the next week off.” They were all Flying K men and Sam could authorize all of it. His father would agree. When one demanded hard work, one rewarded it.
The men whooped and hollered. Kid nodded his appreciation when the men offered to see to his stallion. He slid off the saddle, freeing his rifle and his saddlebags before turning the horse over to be led to the livery.
Sam grabbed the bags and dropped them on his chair. Cobb was off to fetch the banker.
“Grab a drink.” Sam pointed Kid towards the water barrel. “I’ll get the story in a minute.”
Kid nodded, stripping off his hat to pull the dipper out of the barrel and dump it over his face. Sam left him to wash off the dirt as the banker arrived and he helped him haul the gold back to the vault. He left the banker to take account. But the man’s dizzy excitement suggested that most of it was there.
The return of the gold would temper Dorado’s malcontents and raise the estimation of the Kane name, since Kid was the one who rescued it.
Kid had dragged a second chair out of the office and was sitting, his feet propped up on the rails, drinking straight out of his canteen. His soaked hair clung to his damp, stubbled face. Traces of dirt were apparent in the streaks of moisture, but he was at least not gray anymore.
The familiar smell of his brother’s favored cheroots greeted him. “Cobb headed down to the restaurant to pay for the food. He said he would stop at the bathhouse and ask them to keep it open for the men and then he’d take care of the saloon.”
Sam chuckled. Cobb didn’t wait for anyone to ask, he just did what needed doing. It also gave the brothers a chance to catch up. Sam sank back into his own chair, mimicking his brother’s pose, boots on the railing.
“Did you hang them?”
“Nope.” Kid shook his head. “Talked them into leaving the gold behind.”
“You spoke to them.” Sam yanked his own hat off and set on his lap, running his fingers through the sweaty hair. He should be one of those heading down to the bathhouse as well. Staring at Kid, he hoped to hell the boy was joking.
“After a fashion.” Kid nodded, tipping his canteen up for three long swallows of water. His voice was hoarse, roughened with exhaustion and likely too much trail dust.
“Kid.” Sam forced patience into his voice, choosing his next words evenly. He didn’t need rumors that the Kanes were colluding with the thieves. The rumors about Scarlett were bad enough. His youngest brother didn’t have the best reputation in town or out of it. Their father’s disapproval notwithstanding, Kid struggled with expectations if he bothered to take notice of them at all. “Explain.”
The younger man shrugged. “Not much to explain, Sam. They knew we were on ‘em. We couldn’t have been more than a few hours behind them at any given time, but they were pushing hard and would have kept pushing. So I told them we had their girl and that with tempers in the town, she’d likely be dancing at the end of a rope for their trouble.”
“And they just gave you the gold back?” Sam’s eyes narrowed. What had Kid done?
“Well, I might have mentioned that returning the gold could save the girl’s life or at least help it out some. They left the gold, so I would wager it made an impression.”
Sam resisted the urge to slap his brother with the Stetson. The boy meant well. But too often he acted like a boy, without thought for consequences. “Kid, you can’t make promises like that.”
“I didn’t make a promise.” Kid said evenly, a hint of censure nipping at the heels of his words. “I told them it could help. I told them Pa was a pretty powerful guy. And I told them if they gave a damn at all for leaving a lady behind they’d do the right thing. Ain’t none of that a promise.”
“No, but it’s an implication.”
Kid snorted a laugh. “You have been talking to Jason. What a man implies and what a man says are two different things. You know Pa doesn’t take a man at his implications, why should we?”
This time Sam did slap him in the back of the head with the Stetson. “Because they're thieves. They robbed the bank. If they did it once, that means they can do it again and you just told them where Scarlett is. If they gave up the gold for her, they’re coming back for her too.”
His brother’s chair rattled as he dropped his boots from the rail and stood. “But she’s not here. Cobb told me you took her to Pa. I’d rather not see the pretty lady get hung if it’s all the same to you. And I got the gold back, Marshal. So you’re welcome.”
Kid stomped off and Sam bit his tongue rather than call the boy back.
“You had no call to be mean to the boy.” Cobb, on the other hand, had no problem speaking his mind. The older man stepped out of the shadows of Main Street to lean on the rail post. “He did his job. He got the gold back.”
“And if word gets around that he told the thieves we’d let go of Scarlett for the gold?”
Cobb shrugged. “Folks will forget in no time. The gold is back. The town is safe. The Kanes did their job. Only a handful of the blood thirsty folk are going to want to see her hung, but without the rest, they’re just the bitter drops at the bottom of the barrel.”
Sam scowled at his father’s oldest friend. Cobb met the look unflinching. And why shouldn’t he? He’d had occasion to put Sam over his knee when he was younger, paddling his backside or slapping him down when the occasion called for it.
“It’s the principal of the thing. They’re still out there. The gold is here. They done it once, they’re just as likely to do it again. Not to mention, we don’t need a gang shooting up the town to get Scarlett back.” They weren’t taking her either. Maybe his father was right and they’d held her captive or maybe Sam was right and she’d been a willing part of it, but she was safe now. He wasn’t letting the Rykers of the world or anyone else take her away.
“And that’s your problem there, boy. You ain’t worried about the gold.” Cobb chuckled. “Frankly, gold is gold. It’s not worth the blood, sweat and tears folks will weep for it, but that girl…”
“Leave her out of this.”
“I wasn’t the one who brought her into it.” Cobb crossed his arms over his chest.
Sam scowled and wished he were younger so he could kick his boots and stomp. But he was the damned Marshal, a man and he couldn’t afford the action, not even in front of a family friend.
Especially not in front of Cobb.
Cobb chuckled, shaking his head.
“What?” Sam’s temper peaked and snapped. Four days of irritation filling in the crevices of that single syllable.
“You got it bad, boy. Maybe you ought to be thinking about why that girl has you all tied up in knots and less about what your brother told them folk. He did his job. Give him the credit. Then you worry about keeping your lady safe. Your Pa is not about to let anything happen to her.”
“She’s not my lady.”
“As you say.”
“She’s not.”
Cobb chuckled again and Sam clenched his fists. Truth be told, he was worried about what that gang would do where Scarlett was concerned. The judge was on his way. His father was already lining Jason up to defend her. Micah wanted to court her. Hell, even Cobb seemed to be on her side.
So why the hell was Sam so frustrated? And why couldn’t he get the image of her out of his mind?
Maybe he should pay a call to Miss Pontfour’s, work out the need burning in his belly. But the thought turned him cold. He didn’t want Miss Po
ntfour’s ladies.
“We need to secure the bank.” He changed the subject, turning away from thoughts of red hair sliding through his fingers and the curvy softness welcoming his thrusts. His body protested, an angry heat stoking his need.
“Already done. I rousted Jake and three of the boys. They’ve been off the last two days and would have been heading back to the Flying K tomorrow. They’re standing watch at the bank and will until we get some more in here to relieve ‘em. I’ll have Kid take a note to Jed tomorrow.”
“Should probably spread the word, then.”
“Boys are hooting it up at the saloon, most folk who are awake already know. Those that don’t will hear at first light tomorrow.”
Sam scowled. Cobb handled everything. Which left Sam with nothing to do. The older man held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Get some sleep, boy. You ain’t had much since you got back to town and it’s quiet for now. Take advantage of it, I intend to.” With that, Cobb abandoned Sam to his thoughts.
For the first time, Sam wished Cobb weren’t so efficient. The man did his job better than Sam did. Which is probably why Cobb had moved to town when Sam settled in as the marshal. He could hear his father and Cobb now, sitting on the veranda at the big house, chatting about Sam’s notion to become a lawman and how it would be good to have someone keep an eye on him.
Sam scowled at the office, he’d have to stay here tonight with the drunks sleeping off their tempers rather than his own bed. Or better still, back at the Flying K, just two doors down from where Scarlett was ensconced in his mother’s suite of rooms.
That bitter pill still stung. His father couldn’t have put it more plainly that he was taking up Scarlett’s cause than installing her in his beloved wife’s blue rooms. He’d never allowed any guest to stay in there before Scarlett. His father’s tacit approval of the fiery haired minx just added salt to Sam’s irritation. She was supposed to be a prisoner.
He wondered if she was all right. She’d been on the path to recovery from her fever when Sam’s lust-filled thoughts drove him off the Flying K. He’d been hard-pressed to leave her sick room when the doc arrived, even though he’d covered up her nudity. He didn’t want any man alone in the room with her. Not even a forty-five year old father of four who didn’t spare Scarlett’s beauty a passing glance before he’d taken to tending her.
Sam would have stayed, but Jed ordered him out. Fevers were like wildfires. If they weren’t contained, they could destroy whole towns. Sam, Micah and Jed had stood vigil until the doc proclaimed her fever was broken and that she was sleeping and should be left to it.
He was on horseback by dawn, riding for Dorado. It was the last place he wanted to go, he’d rather have gone back to the sick cabin. Sat with her, tended her, but Miss Lena and her mother, Miss Annabeth, had taken over the chore and the scandalized women refused to allow him near Scarlett again, not while she was so vulnerable. They insisted she was secure enough.
“Hell.” He swore to the night air. He would ride for the Flying K at first light, just as soon as he kicked the drunks out of the cell.
A movement in the dark jerked his straying attention back to the street in front of him. He sat forward, hand sliding back to his pistol, watching. Nothing moved in the darkened streets. The shopkeepers had already shuttered their windows and doors. Laughter burst a staccato sound from the saloon, but Sam could feel eyes watching him. He rose, slowly, gaze traveling from one end of the darkened street to the other.
For a moment, he saw yellow eyes glaring at him from the darkness. His palm itched to pull the gun, but Sam stayed his hand. He met the yellow gaze and held it. It was an oversized dog of some kind or a wolf, but wolves tended to avoid towns.
Unless they were mad or sick.
The great beast stood in the center of the street, just at the edge of the kerosene lantern’s reach. It was the biggest damn wolf Sam had ever seen. There was an odd awareness in those yellow eyes, it gave Sam the sense that it was sizing him up. He braced himself, hoping no one chose this moment to stride out into the darkened street.
Another burst of laughter accompanied by the slapping of the batwing doors cut through the night air and between one blink and the next, the wolf disappeared into the night. He’d not even seen it move.
Wary, Sam unholstered his gun.
Thieves stealing gold from a sealed vault.
A man who disappeared through walls.
A fiery-haired vixen dominating his thoughts.
Now a yellow eyed wolf in the middle of the street.
What the hell was happening to Dorado?
What was happening to him?
Chapter Nine
His body hovered over hers, his well-muscled thighs pushing her legs apart. His mouth teased a path down her throat, nipping, licking and tasting. Fire scorched her insides, liquid desire racing through her veins. She stroked her hands over the hard planes of his shoulders, nails scoring against the skin.
The hard length of his arousal prodded at the moist juncture of her thighs. She knew what was coming next. She could feel the restraint in every rigid muscle of his body. Impatient, she arched up, eager to taste the first sting of womanhood, to take him into her body and to lose herself to the blind passion consuming her.
“Scarlett!” Buck’s voice sliced through her phantom lover, turning Sam into ether. She bolted upright on the bed, gathering the sheets to herself. Her heart pounded against her ribs.
Her brother stood at the foot of the bed, one hand bracing against the oak post, eyes averted while she covered herself. The room around them grayed as he took control of the dream.
“Well, at least now I know why you were hard to reach.” Buck’s tone was dry as the winter winds stirring the sands on the desert flats that bordered the mountains.
“It’s my dream, Buck.” She refused to be embarrassed, even as her stomach twisted. Frowning, she concentrated, clothes shimmering into existence. Her denim britches, cloth shirt and boots were her preferred dress. Buck and Quanto told her repeatedly in dreams, anything was possible, and she just had to exert that control.
“It better just be a dream,” Buck’s tone was mild, but laden with censure. She glared at her brother and he glared back. Despite the closeness of their ages, Buck always acted far older.
“And if it’s not?” What was it to him if she tasted what every one of her brothers had? She’d heard them talking about the ladies they’d tumbled. Granted, they didn’t discuss it right in front of her, but it was hard not to hear when they were laughing over how easy some skirts went up than others. She’d watched them ride out time and again, off to make a man of one or the other of them. They always returned with bawdy laughter and enormously pleased expressions.
Buck sighed. The grayscale around them lightened, a cooler breeze traveling down from a snowy pass. Buck’s control transformed the blue ranch house bedroom to the valley that nestled their lake and home in the mountains. The gray brightened to blue skies with fat, ripe clouds stacking up like so much cream on a pie.
A cry of mating hawks split the sky overhead and Scarlett grinned at the sight of them. Her heart squeezed. She missed her home.
“This is why, Scarlett.” Buck’s voice gentled, his hand came down on her shoulder and pulled her back to him in a loose hug. “We’re worried about you. We’ve been worried. I’ve been reaching for your dreams for days, but I couldn’t find you.”
Undone by the simple kindness and genuine affection, she turned, hugging Buck tight. She missed all of them too. She’d longed for an adventure with them, not one that tore her away.
“I’m sorry. I was sick.”
Buck pulled back, concern knitting his black brows together. “Did they hurt you?”
“No.” She shook her head, unsurprised that her hair fell out of the braid she’d envisioned. The brothers loved it when she let her hair flag, except when they were coming down out of the mountains. Then they wanted it covered.
Her lips twisted into an amused smile. If it wasn’t telling her to put her hair up, it was telling her to watch her posture, or steer clear of the wilder horses or mind the house with Quanto while they fetched what she needed.
“Scarlett, don’t lie to protect them, if they hurt you…”
She pressed her fingers to his lips, meeting his gaze, letting him see the truth in her words. “They haven’t hurt me. The marshal took me out of Dorado because the townsfolk were threatening to hang me. They’ve treated me very well.”
He caught her hand at his lips, pulling it down to hold it over his heart. “What sickness?”
“My fire. I got scared and a little upset. I couldn’t control it.” The confession cost, but Buck would understand. All of her brothers would. The Kanes, Lena, even Miss Annabeth had been gentle and kind to her, treating her ‘fever,’ but she couldn’t tell them it was the fire she needed to release that was burning her up. It wasn’t until they’d nearly drowned her in ice that she’d gotten the control back to bank the heat within.
The sting of Sam’s departure had helped too. Her skin burned just thinking about him.
“Was anyone hurt?” Buck nuzzled her forehead with a kiss, comforting and gentle.
“No. I blew up some rocks though.” Her lips twisted into a sheepish grin. She was more embarrassed over that lack of control than what Buck had witnessed when he slipped into her dream.
“Better rocks than people.”
“Is everyone else all right?”
“They’re fine. Cody is beside himself. The wolf is riding him hard to get you back.”
“I don’t think you should come back…”
“Scarlett.”
“No, Buck. I’m serious. The townsfolk, they were really angry. The marshal’s sent for a judge. Mr. Kane’s been very kind to me and he’s even asked one of his sons to be my lawyer, but they want to hang the thieves. It’s not safe for you in Dorado.”
Buck laughed.
“What?”
“Not safe for us? You’re the one they’re holding. One of their hunters told Cody they were threatening to hang you.”