The Gold Digger

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by The Gold Digger (lit)


  Stuart leaned down and reached inside the door. Cinda watched as he tossed her satchel onto the dirt at her feet. “I packed up for you to save time. You’ve got about six hours of light left in the woods. You want to be on the main road before twilight. You’ll probably make it before sundown if you get moving.”

  Cinda glanced at the satchel, and her heart fell all the way into the puddle of water in her boots. “Make what?”

  “Deadwood,” Stuart said.

  Mitch flipped a coin in her direction, and Cinda caught it against her chest. “That ought to get you a room for a couple nights. None of our business what you do after that. Consider it payment for the work you did here.” He turned around and headed toward the back of the cabin.

  She slipped the coin into her pocket, staring at his back. It took her a minute to understand what was going on. Sometimes she felt a little slow on the draw, and this just proved it. She shook her head, trying to comprehend what had happened, then her mouth dropped open. They seemed to be ordering her off the claim. They planned to keep her gold. Oh, no. That could not happen.

  She steeled herself mentally then glanced toward Stuart, but he’d gone back to gulping the stew. She liked that they enjoyed it, and it had been a mighty nice gesture to toss her a coin, but if they thought she’d just up and leave, they didn’t know her very well. To be honest, they didn’t know her at all, but she could remedy that quick enough. Another glance at Stuart showed no hope there. That left Mitch.

  “Wait!”

  Mitch didn’t stop so she stomped after him, her boots pounding on the dirt, announcing her pissed-off mood. He shook his head as he rounded the corner like that would make her go away.

  Ha! It’s going to take more than that, Mitch. I’m getting my gold back.

  She ran the last few yards and came up short.

  A small barn with an actual working door stood behind the cabin, and two horses rested in a corral. What these men lacked in their own comfort did not extend to their horses. Cozy nests of straw filled two of the stalls, and a third was empty, waiting for the small wagon. A water pump stood off to the right. Had she known about the pump, her washing up would have been easier. Mitch unhooked the black horse from the wagon and led the animal inside.

  Cinda moved toward the other horse like she’d fallen into a dream. She couldn’t take her eyes off the animal, and her hand reached up and slid down the golden flank.

  “Oh, she’s beautiful.”

  She glanced up as Mitch came out of the stable and couldn’t help but smile.

  He drew back for a minute, seemingly stunned that she could smile. His brow furrowed. “She is. Good animal, too.”

  Cinda moved around to the horse’s face and trailed her fingers down the animal’s nose. The horse seemed to like it because she nudged a little closer. “What’s her name?”

  Mitch made a weird kind of face. “We don’t really talk to them all that much. I mean, they’re horses.”

  “Oh, every animal needs a name, and every animal should be talked to.” She gathered the horse’s face in her hands and laid her cheek against the animal’s nose. “I’m going to call you Goldy. Do you like that, girl?”

  Goldy whinnied with approval, but Mitch made some kind of snorting sound. “Goldy? What kind of name is that?”

  “A perfect one.”

  Mitch leaned his arm on the railing. “And what good is giving a name to a horse you’re never going to see again?” He lifted his chin toward the south. “You’re leaving, remember?”

  “About that…” She sidled around the horse but kept in contact with her because Goldy seemed to give her a little bit of strength. “Look, Mitch, um, Mr…”

  She huffed then curled a fist against Goldy’s flank. Goldy didn’t mind and, in fact, gave Cinda an encouraging look. She took a deep breath. Be polite, be nice, be sweet as apple pie with cinnamon on top. She smiled.

  “I’m sorry, Mitch. I don’t know your full name.”

  “Mitchell Dare.”

  “Dare? Hmm, I see. I suppose you’ve lived with dares all your life then. Well, Mr. Dare, I’d—”

  “Don’t call me Mr. Dare. I hate that.”

  She flipped a spiral of hair over her shoulder. “We wouldn’t want that, would we, Mr. Dare?” Obviously she could only be sweet for two minutes at a time. She knew it would probably come back to bite her in the ass, but she had trouble with impulses.

  His eyes narrowed. “No, we wouldn’t, Miss Candyass.”

  She sniffed and rolled her sleeves back up. They had fallen over her hands. “You have no idea if I have an ass like candy.”

  He looked her over as though judging a livestock purchase. “It’s a pretty safe bet. I can’t see much, but you’re a nice-looking girl.”

  She felt like slugging him in the face, but she smiled. “How sweet of you to say so.”

  “Just saying the truth. Find it works in most situations. You should try it.”

  Cinda smiled again, then turned her face and rolled her eyes. She whispered to Goldie, “He’s a real ass, but he said I was nice-looking. I can probably work with that.”

  “Work with what?”

  Stuart came around the side of the cabin, and Cinda’s face flamed.

  “Oh, nothing.” She tried another smile. She thought her face might crack in half.

  Stuart seemed to like her smiles because he smiled back. He bit into an apple then pulled another out of his pocket. He flipped it toward Cinda, and she caught it a lot easier than she had the coin. He seemed to have a magic pocket because another apple appeared. He held it out to Goldy who chomped it down quickly, then he went into the shed and gave another to Midnight—that was what Cinda had decided to call her.

  She leaned around Goldy and raised her voice. “I’m making an offer to your brother.”

  She took a bite of the fruit. When the sweet juice ran down her chin, she wiped it off with Mitch’s shirt sleeve. Mitch leaned back on the railing and tipped his hat off his forehead. It seemed to be his thinking stance. “You are?”

  “Yes, I am. We just haven’t gotten to the actual details yet.”

  “Or the topic at all,” Mitch muttered.

  Stuart strolled out of the stable and began to unsaddle Goldy. “I have to warn you, doll, we’re not much for making deals.”

  “But everyone has something they need.” Her gaze swung to Mitch.

  He shook his head. “Not us. If we need something, we pay for it. We don’t rely on people, and we don’t want others relying on us.”

  “Self-reliance is admirable,” she said. “I believe I have it, but I need some money or some nuggets—”

  Mitch made a face. “Here we go,” he muttered.

  “Look, I’m willing to work for it. I just want a bit of security. I have my reasons. If you’d agree—”

  “No deal,” Mitch said.

  “We like things the way they are,” Stuart said.

  “I gathered that.” Cinda placed a hand over her heart. “I swear I won’t move the bench again, but I wish you’d reconsider. I think I could make your lives better.”

  “Is that so?” Mitch rubbed his chin. Cinda wanted to slide her hand over that stubble and feel it for herself. She also thought she might like to run her tongue all the way up his body.

  I wonder what he tastes like.

  Stuart took the saddle into the stable then lounged against the railing next to his brother, one ankle crossed over the other. “How are you going to make our lives better? You already said you wouldn’t fuck us.”

  Cinda’s brow furrowed. “I did?”

  Mitch nodded. “I believe your exact words were…” He rubbed his chin again, and Cinda watched his hand, seemingly hypnotized. She took an involuntary step toward him then stopped dead, trying to root her feet to the ground. Mitch gave her a rather funny smile. His voice rose to a higher pitch in his best impression of her, but held a trace of impatience and menace. “‘The day I fuck either of you will be the coldest day this eart
h has ever seen.’”

  Cinda took another step forward. “I said that? And you were listening?”

  “We don’t miss much,” Stuart said.

  She cocked her head. “Is that what I really sound like? All angry and mean?”

  “Well, it wasn’t exact,” Mitch said. “I am a man.”

  “I noticed,” Cinda murmured.

  Stuart slapped his brother on the shoulder. “I thought it sounded exactly like her. Hey, remember that time in San Francisco when—”

  Cinda tapped her finger against her lips, her mind whirling. She had no idea what they talked about. Whatever had happened in San Francisco had obviously been at Mitch’s expense. He flushed, his face consumed in a burst of color. She thought his blush seemed very boyish and endearing, but Stuart found it funny because he doubled over in laughter. Mitch looked angry for a fleeting moment before he joined his brother. They practically fell on each other as their laughter filled the woods around them. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard laughter like that—the sweet, all-consuming sound of two people who simply enjoyed each other’s company. She wasn’t sure she ever had. She and Miranda enjoyed being together but rarely had time to laugh. She wanted to be part of their laughter more than anything.

  First things first.

  Glancing between them, Cinda had no idea which brother she’d rather start with. Hell, they were identical, right down to that glimmer in their eyes and the smirks on their faces. She almost smacked her hand against her head. What was she thinking? Did she intend to fuck these men for seven gold nuggets?

  Absolutely, if they’ll do it.

  She figured she could start with the obvious bargaining chips first, just for her peace of mind and an attempt to salvage what might be left of her reputation.

  The time for games had come to an end. She gazed at them with all the hope she felt showing on her face. She decided not to be coy, or arrogant, or angry. She had to win them over.

  “So…about my offer,” she said.

  They glanced at her like they’d both forgotten she was there.

  “You haven’t made an offer yet,” Mitch said.

  “I’m getting there,” she snapped.

  Deep breath. Calm down.

  “You liked the stew, right?”

  Stuart nodded. “Sure did, and we could use a cook.”

  Mitch shot his brother a quizzical look. “But in another month we’re—”

  “Expanding,” Stuart said. “Right, Mitch?”

  “That’s right.” Mitch narrowed his eyes at Stuart. She thought Mitch might think a little more than Stuart, though she couldn’t be sure.

  She needed to reel in the fish while they tugged on the hook. “You liked the clean cabin, right?”

  Stuart nodded again. “She makes some good points, Mitch.”

  “I already paid her for that.” Mitch rolled his eyes. “Besides, I haven’t even seen a clean cabin yet. Been too busy apprehending a thief.”

  “It’s really just a misunderstanding,” Cinda said. “I’m not a thief. I was merely taking advantage of an opportunity.”

  “To steal,” Mitch said.

  She threw her hands up. “I thought you were gone!”

  “We were gone,” Mitch said. “But being gone to Deadwood for supplies is a lot different than being gone back to Ohio.”

  “You’re from Ohio?”

  Stuart nodded, but Mitch just stared at her.

  “I’m from Ohio, too.” She took a step closer but put her hand on Goldy. She figured they wouldn’t make a move on her for fear of spooking the horse.

  “Good for you,” Mitch said, “but that doesn’t make us friends. You’re still a thief.”

  “Do I look like a thief to you?”

  Stuart looked her up and down. “I’ve seen pickpockets with better clothes, but Mitch has bad taste in flannel. But, since they don’t belong to you, that means you stole them.”

  “I did not! I borrowed them.”

  Stuart shrugged. “Six of one, half a dozen of the other. You’re not a real successful thief, are you?”

  She huffed and kicked at a rock. “I’ve done okay so far. I couldn’t pan for gold in my dresses. I only have two.”

  The brothers gave each other another one of the thicker-than-thieves looks they did so well. She was just about ready to leap across the stable yard and tackle Mitch for her gold when Stuart’s gaze swept over her again, ignoring the clothes and lingering on the swell of her breasts and between her legs. Heat spiraled through her face, and that disturbing ache started in her privates again. A lazy smile spread over his mouth, and those dark green eyes locked on hers.

  “Let’s forget about whom those clothes belong to for a minute,” Stuart said. “I’ll bet you look a lot better out of them altogether.”

  She blushed. The heat raged over her body like a grass fire. “Actually, yes, I do. Would you be interested in seeing me naked?”

  The smirk vanished off Mitch’s face, and his mouth dropped open. “Holy fuck. Is that what this is all about?”

  She shrugged. “If that’s what you’re interested in.”

  “I’m more than interested,” Stuart said.

  “She said she wouldn’t fuck us,” Mitch murmured.

  “Don’t listen to me,” Cinda said. “As Stuart said, I never shut up.”

  Mitch tugged on his lips. Oh, as frustrated as she was with him, she wanted to kiss that mouth. Please say yes. Please say yes.

  “I could be interested.” Mitch led Goldy into the stable. He spoke over his shoulder. “But first I want to see the gold you have in your shirt. We’ll talk after that.”

  “Gold? In my shirt?” She managed to keep the shock off her face, but stupidly she took a couple steps backward. Her gaze darted frantically, wondering if she could run and how far she could get before they caught her. In the heat of the moment and her fuzzy thoughts of fucking two strangers, she’d forgotten about her nest egg.

  She batted her eyes, hoping it would be mistaken for innocent confusion. It didn’t work. Mitch came out of the stable and advanced toward her. She backed up some more then whirled around and ran.

  She careened around the front of the cabin, scooped up her satchel, and when she turned, she plowed right into a hard chest. Two strong hands gripped her arms, and she lifted her face. Stuart stared down at her, a slight smile on his face. How had he gotten around the other side of the cabin so fast?

  “You’re in for a bit of trouble now. Mitch hates to run.”

  She gulped. “You’re pretty good at it.”

  “I’m good at a lot of things.”

  He plucked the satchel from her hand and sent it flying toward the cabin. He spun her around and yanked her back against his chest. She stumbled, and Stuart gripped her shoulders tighter, holding her gently but firmly. There wasn’t any chance for her to escape. His heat skittered down the length of her back and something hard nestled against the cleft of her ass. She’d kind of wanted to experience the feel of that at some point, but she wanted it on her terms, not theirs.

  Mitch sauntered around the corner of the cabin, wearing that hard, emerald-green stare. He bounced her gold nuggets in his hand. She heard them rattle and clack in his fingers and saw the teasing glint of that glorious color as it reflected the sun’s rays back to her. She stared at them, thinking how stupid she’d been to think luck and fortune came that quickly or easily. He slid them back into his pocket, destroying all the hope she’d had.

  He came closer and closer until he practically touched her. Damn, now she was trapped between them, wedged between two hard, incredibly arousing bodies. Not only was she a poor thief, she seemed to be equally as bad at getting herself out of tight scrapes. She should have listened more to her stepdaddy when he talked because he could generally get out of anything. He seemed to live from one tight scrape to another.

  She also really needed to learn to run faster.

  Oh, I am doomed here.

  Chapter 4
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br />   Mitch’s gaze raked over her with a sort of lazy insolence that warmed her up hotter than a June bride. As his stare lingered on her breasts, Cinda’s nipples hardened, and that dull ache in her privates became a fluttering pulse that dampened the skin between her thighs. It could have been the combination of his gorgeous eyes and Stuart’s body pressed up against her, but she found it hard to draw a breath, and the moisture between her legs got slicker. Thoughts of gold vanished from her head, but obviously these men weren’t so easily distracted.

  Mitch looked past her to his brother. “I think we should search her.”

  Stuart’s hands tightened on her shoulders. “We have to be sure. We can’t have claim jumpers strolling in here and stealing us blind, no matter how pretty.”

  “Wait…”

  Cinda forgot what she wanted to say. The words dried up in her mouth, and the heat swarming through her body burned up any in her head. Mitch reached out and, despite his large fingers, expertly popped open the top button of the flannel shirt she wore, then undid the rest quickly. It didn’t really surprise her. It was his shirt, after all. A slow smile spread across his lips as he studied her chemise. It didn’t offer an ounce of protection, especially since she’d removed the pin. He tugged at a couple laces, and her breasts spilled out of the linen. He caught them in his hands and gave them a gentle squeeze.

  Another burst of flame blossomed on her cheeks as both men whistled softly. Mitch brushed his thumbs across her nipples, and they pebbled into hard little nuggets. Warm breath feathered against Cinda’s hair as Stuart peered over her head at the pale globes nestled in his brother’s hands. Mitch stared quietly, seemingly entranced by the feel of her skin.

  Cinda closed her eyes for a minute and simply enjoyed the feel of his rough fingers on her flesh and the hard tug of her nipples straining toward his touch. She leaned into his hands, wanting more then the movement stopped. She opened her eyes just as his gaze lifted to hers, and when she caught the glimmer in his eyes, she realized she’d been had. Damn, these men were good.

  He plucked the rag out of her cleavage, fingered it for a moment then opened it. His lips tightened as he dropped the nuggets into his pocket. His eyes hardened. “That was enjoyable, but I’m running out of patience. Got any more hidden?”

 

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