by Multiple
Silently, they rode away from the house. Scarlett didn’t dare to glance back. The first fingers of dawn stained the eastern sky, Kid sped up the pace and it wasn’t long before she saw the cabin slipping out of the light in the distance. Dawn turned the sky to steaks of velvety purple and one by one the stars winked out.
They were nearly atop the cabin when her mare snorted an alarm. Scarlett rubbed her neck, soothing her as the great, sandy colored wolf padded out from the side of the cabin.
Cody.
Scarlett was off the mare and racing across the cabin yard to fall on her knees and throw her arms around the great wolf. He snuffled her hair, raspy tongue swiping at the tears she wasn’t even aware of crying and let her weep into his fur.
It wasn’t until Cody nipped her gently that she remembered they weren’t alone. She looked up to see Kid watching them with a bemused look. Cody nudged her aside, moving to stand between she and the younger Kane.
Clearing her throat, Scarlett swiped away her tears with the back of her hand. “Thank you, Kid.”
The younger man nodded slowly. “You’re welcome, Miss Scarlett. Wolf.”
To her amazement, Cody stared at Kid for three, long heartbeats and then whuffed a noise that sounded suspiciously like a bark, but deeper. Kid tipped his hat. “Miss Scarlett, please accept the horse. Unless you’ve a furry secret of your own, I suspect you’ll need her. Go directly west. At the third stream, go southwest. That will angle you towards Dorado and keep you off the main trails. I wouldn’t recommend you go into town and I’ll cover your trail.”
“Kid?” She called, stepping forward, knees bumping Cody as he moved to block her from following.
“Ma’am?”
“Will you get into trouble?”
He grinned, the wide, easy grin she remembered from their first meeting. “Well ma’am, I expect I will, but don’t you worry. I’m used to it.”
Cody snorted an amused note. Kid tipped his hat again and turned his horse around. But he didn’t turn east for the house, angling south instead. She stared after him until Cody nipped the side of her leg, dancing away before she could swat him.
“I hope you know where everyone else is.”
He bobbed his head once and looked at the mare, bossy as ever. Scarlett swiped an impatient hand across the tears still leaking from the corners of her eyes and walked back to the mare. Cody kept his distance, the mare’s eyes rolled and Scarlett took the time to stroke her neck, murmuring soothing words until she calmed down.
“You might have to keep your distance until she gets used to you.”
Cody just stared at her.
With a sigh of regret, she mounted and glanced once more back to the east. Sam would wake soon, if he wasn’t already up. It might be hours before he noticed her absence, unless he went in to wake her.
A growl demanded her attention. She glanced at Cody. He was pacing back and forth, his tongue peeking out from between his teeth. He wanted to go. They needed to go.
Her heart kicked at her ribs as she touched her heels to Dawn’s sides, urging her into a trot and aiming directly west, away from the rising sun.
Goodbye, Sam.
Chapter Eighteen
Two days later…
Kid stroked a hand down Marguerite’s bare back to her rump and slapped it gently. “Get up, lady-o. You need to pull something on before the marshal kicks in the door.”
“Que?” The woman blinked at him sleepily. The hot, dusty little town sat just a day’s ride north of the San Antonio watershed. He’d ridden hard, leaving a clear trail south. From the shouts downstairs, his work had paid off.
He recognized the deep tones of his brothers. Kid sat up and slapped Marguerite’s rump again, rousting her from the bed. “Vestirse, ahora.”
Kid dragged britches on over his own nakedness and tossed some coins on the bed. His big-breasted companion wasted no time scooping them up. She insulted him in Spanish, but had the loose top pulled over her head when Sam’s fist pounded on the door. Kid folded his arms and waited, enjoying the view as Marguerite wiggled into a pair of too tight, over washed pantaloons.
The door wasn’t locked.
The handle wiggled and the door opened.
Exhaling a hard quick breath, Kid stiffened his spine and met his brother’s furious gaze. “Afternoon.”
“Where is she?”
Four days later…
“Bourbon?” Jebidiah asked. The judge arrived at the Flying K earlier, dusty and trail worn.
“Don’t mind if I do.” A year younger than Jed, Judge Farrell’s dark hair was salted with a heavy dose of gray and his sun-darkened face was a sea of wrinkles.
Jed examined him in the mirror as he filled two imported, French cut glasses with a thumb length of amber liquid. The Judge moved slowly, slightly dragging his right leg in a manner characteristic of gout. Jed sighed. Age was the friend of no man.
He carried the glasses over and waited until the Judge made himself comfortable. Jed’s study was all dark woods and heavy built furniture, designed for men to drop into without worry of snapping off the delicate accents that Molly furnished throughout the house.
Ah Molly, what have the boys done now? No worries, ma’am. I’ll take care of it.
“I thought you were up by the Red River.” He pressed the glass into the Judges hands. The leathery skin was stretched tight over three of bulbous, red knuckles, hooking the pinky at an uncomfortable angle. He’d ask Miss Annabeth for some liniment and get the doc to check on the Judge.
“Oh I was, but a rider from Fort Worth brought word that your boy caught one of the robbers and they loaned me a horse to get on my way. Afraid my old girl threw her last shoe. She’s as tired and as lame as I am, I left her with a family up by the border. She’s likely sunning her old bones at the river. I paid them ten gold to cover her keep and let her retire.”
“That’s a steep price.”
“Ohhh, maybe.” The Judge stretched out his legs and leaned back into the chair, sighing at the comfort. “But I’ve had her since she was a filly and she deserves a good retirement. The family was just scraping by and with four kids and a fifth on the way, I didn’t mind helping out. So tell me, has your boy caught the rest? Or are we just hanging one of them?”
“Well Collin, it’s like this…”
Five days later…
“Mount up boys. They were spotted heading west of San Angelo, we’re going to have to ride quick to catch ‘em. The Army’s posted a reward and I aim to collect.” Ryker whipped his men into a frenzy, the dissolute lot composed of local gamblers, drunkards and hard types that drifted from ranch to ranch, unable to settle. Cobb watched it all, leaning against the porch rail of the Marshal’s Office, his scattergun comfortable in the crook of his arm.
Men like Ryker lived for trouble and if it didn’t find them, they stirred it up. He’d been livid since the night Sam sent him tumbling on his ass out into the street. He’d spoken out against the marshal every time he’d left town and discovering that Miss Scarlett had gone missing was a burr under his saddle.
The arrival of the Army reward posters in the mail the day before lathered the town up. Ryker turned his attention to Cobb, flinty, cold eyes hard like a rattlesnake. “You tell the marshal when he can be bothered, that we’ll take care of those thieves.”
Cobb said nothing. Rumors were flying in from all over the prairie. The thieves had been spotted as far south as Galveston and further east, as if they were riding to the Mississippi. The rumors of the riders in San Angelo were just as likely as the ones that said they were in San Antonio and south to the Rio Bravo.
“Pity you backed the wrong man, eh Cobb?” Ryker, not content to be ignored, kicked his mare over to where Cobb stood. He glared a challenge and Cobb leaned to the side and spit into the dirt, waiting.
“Gold fever doesn’t leave much behind, Ryker. You would do well to remember that.”
The man snorted, disresp
ect and derision his companions. “Cobb.”
“Ryker.”
With a few more hoots and hollers, dust drifted on the lazy, hot breeze as Ryker and his men rode out. Jason walked out the office door behind him. “I sent the riders out. They’ll meet up with their strings. We had word yesterday that Sam and Micah picked up Kid just outside of San Antonio.”
“She wasn’t with him, was she?” Cobb grunted at Jason’s nod. The boy looked more city slicker than rancher, but he was armed with a pair of twin colts and like all of Jed’s boys, he knew how to use them.
“Well that lot’s headed the wrong way, but just as likely to change as the wind. Keep sending more men out. I want them picketed from here to Galveston and send more west to the passes. We need to be able to get word to Sam quick.”
Jason nodded. “The Judge still at the Flying K?”
“Yeah, your Pa will keep him under wraps.”
“The Governor could still pardon her.”
“You think that’s going to happen?”
Jason shook his head. “He’s afraid of Pa, but he doesn’t want to piss the army off. Not when the Federals might be paying off our war debt.”
Cobb kept his gaze on the column of dust in the distance, Ryker’s riders were pushing their horses hard. They wouldn’t get too far today at that pace.
“Jason, find me another rider. I’ve a mind to send a note to Colonel Stanley.”
“I thought he was retired.”
“A lot of people make that mistake.”
“On it.”
Cobb sighed and scratched a hand over the misshapen star pinned uncomfortably to his breast pocket. They’d hold Dorado together until Sam could find them.
He and Jed had been doing it for years.
One week later…
“Jason says the Governor is considering a pardon.” Micah scanned the letter they’d found waiting for them in Pecos. His face itched for lack of a shave and his body ached from a week in the saddle, but Sam kept pushing them, pausing only when the horses absolutely needed to rest.
He spared a glance for Sam, his older brother’s fierce mood had only darkened over the intervening days. He’d barely been able to pull him off Kid when they’d found him, having been a recent recipient of Sam’s fists, he’d done his younger brother a favor. Particularly since he was already injured, his chest a mass of scabbed scratches. Scratches he’d refused to explain.
The boy in question was stripping their tack down while Sam and Micah ate trail jerky and reviewed the mail from Flying K riders. It seemed Cobb was picketing men across the state to carry letters, each one a few hours further than the next so they could ride fast and hard, carrying the mail that would otherwise take days.
Stagecoaches didn’t come this far west. The arid land, populated by roving tribes of Indians, outlaws and Mexican bandits, wasn't hospitable. Micah almost hoped they ran into one or two, maybe giving Sam someone to shoot would lighten his mood.
“Considering.”
“Yeah, considering. He’s commission Judge Farrell to make a recommendation after he speaks to her. But the army might be sending out their own men and they’ve posted a reward.”
Sam growled. Micah understood. A reward made their job more difficult as it would bring out bounty hunters and more.
“How much?”
“Ten gold each, alive. Four if they’re dead.”
Kid glanced up from the saddle repair to stare at him. “Ten gold?”
“Feeling more helpful now?” Sam spit the words and Micah sighed. The two men had been arguing since San Antonio, if they bothered to speak at all.
“Do you really care?” Short tempers were in plentiful supply. When his younger and older brothers started to square off, Micah put two fingers in his mouth and issued a shrill whistle. Peacemaking was Jason’s job, not his, but he was done.
He glared at the pair of them when they turned their intemperate looks to him. “Enough. We’re not likely to find her if you two keep snapping at each other.”
His words had as much effect as a waving a hat at a prairie fire. It was almost funny to think how much alike his oldest and youngest brothers were, intractable, hot-headed and unlikely to turn away from a course once they’d put their minds to it. Ignoring Sam, Micah focused on Kid. The boy meant well, even when he couldn’t seem to manage a task without screwing it up. It was their own fault, really. Micah worked with too many animals not to recognize that. Kid’s birth robbed them of their mother and later, they’d nearly lost him to a fever. They’d indulged him for years, never pushing, never demanding and always covering up for him with their father. It was no wonder Kid didn’t have much care for consequences.
“Kid, you sure they didn’t mention where they were headed?”
The younger man gave a sharp, quick shake of his head. “She didn’t say and I didn’t ask. Sam’s the one convinced they are riding for the mountains.”
“What about her brothers, what did they say?” Sam pounced on the line of questioning.
“He didn’t say anything.”
He. Micah frowned. “So there was only one.”
Kid nodded again, his expression revealing nothing.
“What did he say?”
“I just told you he didn’t say anything. He…” Kid made a slashing gesture with one hand. “Never mind, you wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
Something rippled through Sam’s stony expression. He pushed his hat back. Micah kept his thoughts to himself. It was the first time since they’d found Kid that Sam even looked remotely like he was listening.
“Tell me anyway.” Sam’s tone eased away from hard-biting orders to something more speculative. “Tell me about the gold, you spoke to them then, didn’t you?”
“Does it really matter?”
“Yes.” Sam scowled. “It does.”
The horses munched quietly on the sparse grass around the pitiful watering hole they’d found to camp at. None of them wanted to stay in Pecos, not with word of the reward spreading. Their fresh supplies sat in bulging saddlebags and they were content with cold water and trail jerky for a meal.
Micah sighed, stripping off his trail coat and going to work digging a depression in the hard earth for a fire pit. He was tired of jerky. “Kid, just tell us whatever it is. It can’t be much worse than what we’ve been imagining.”
“Fine, I talked to a wolf.”
He hadn’t really known what he was expecting, but if Kid’s explanation surprised him, Sam’s reaction shocked him.
“A great sandy-colored wolf?”
Ten days later…
Scarlett flicked a pebble across the still, serene surface of the lake. It bounced once, twice and sank on the third. She never did seem able to get past that third skip. Her mare grazed lazily in the thick, green grass that verged around the lake. The sweet mare liked the mountains, the cooler air and gentler weather much kinder than the arid desert they’d crossed at a hard pace, Cody urging them on. The brothers had caught up to them a few miles south of Dorado, Cody having skirted the town entirely and waiting until nightfall when Buck could dream to them.
As if summoned by her thoughts, her blond brother dropped into a sprawl next to her. He’d barely let her out of his sight, even when she’d simply needed to relieve herself. His bedroll was parked next to hers or he simply curled up alongside her in wolf form. She’d thought it would be different in the mountains, but his demanding behavior worsened.
“Good morning,” she offered, hoping for peace. She’d scared him, she knew that, but it didn’t explain his hovering or nipping at her heels.
“Morning. You should have told me you were coming down here.” His wolf-yellow eyes admonished her.
“I come down to the lake all the time. We’re home.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Cody shook his head. His hair had lengthened over the last few months, falling to his shoulders. He’d shaved, thankfully, the blond beard having emp
hasized his wolfish appearance.
“Cody,” Scarlett scowled. “We’re home. I’m safe.”
He ignored her, reaching out to loop a lock of her hair over his finger. “They were going to hang you Scarlett.”
“But they didn’t. And if you listened to me at all, you would know that the marshal didn’t want to. He was trying to keep me safe.” Mentioning Sam was the wrong thing to do, Cody’s eyes narrowed and his jaw set.
“I want you to forget about him.”
“Why?” The weight of his badge pressed against her chest. She’d been surprised to find the marshal’s star still in her pocket where she’d tucked it away in the cave. She’d forgotten about it when Micah arrived and again when she’d changed her clothes at the ranch house. She’d smuggled it away in her rolled up clothes.
She’d discovered it two days away from the Flying K, hiding it from her brothers for fear that Cody would take it away. She’d tried to explain about the Kanes, but Cody always interrupted, cutting her off.
“You’re not going to see him again,” Cody tugged the lock of her hair. Despite the chill of the morning air, he was bare-chested and wore only a pair of loose breeches. Even his feet were bare as though he’d woken, and come to check on her first thing.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
She’d taken to waking earlier and earlier for fear of finding his yellow eyes on her when she woke up. Buck warned her that the wolf was riding him hard, but in the ten days since they’d been reunited, the wolf had been worse.
Not better.
“And Wyatt’s still angry with you.” Their eldest brother was angry with all of them. He’d met them at the foot of the mountain, cool gaze meeting each of theirs until even Scarlett had looked away. He’d said nothing, only riding over to Scarlett’s side, forcing Cody away until he could reach out his fingers to touch her chin.
When she’d looked at Wyatt again, his one blue eye and one green eye carried no censure. “You don’t leave again.”