The two glared at one another. In any other circumstances, Stuart would wait to see whose head exploded first, but one of them was liable to end up dead. Stuart slammed some cartridges into the rifle, his gaze roaming between his brother and the forests beyond.
Mitch swayed. “I can’t trust you. I can’t trust any of you.” He pressed his fingers against his temple. “Ow.” He pulled his hand away and stared at it stupidly. “I’m bleeding.”
“You’ve been shot. We’ve got to go in the cabin.”
“You’re lying. You’ll say anything to get that gold.”
Cinda’s breath burst out of her lungs. “Stop it, Mitch, you’re scaring me. Come on!”
When another shot rang out, and a bit of the door exploded in front of him, Mitch jerked like a marionette. He glanced around like he’d come out of a dream only to find himself in a nightmare. He gave Cinda a little shove and tried to push himself up, but stumbled and collapsed back to the ground. Stuart reached out, grabbed Cinda’s arm, and yanked her into the cabin. She slid along the floor and tried to scramble to her feet. He gave her a stern glare, and she froze. He tossed the rifle toward her. She caught it easily.
“Cover me.”
He dashed outside, and Cinda squeezed off a shot toward the trees. Stu tucked his shoulder under Mitch’s arm and man-handled his brother into the house. Once inside, he dropped him and slammed the door shut. He turned to Cinda and reached for the rifle.
“Friend of yours?”
Cinda rose to her feet. “I don’t know.”
“Anybody who might be looking for you?”
Her glance darted toward the open window just as another shot rang out. She dropped down then pressed her lips together. “Possibly.”
“Great. Just great.” He slammed the shutters closed then nodded toward Mitch who swayed slightly as he tried to get to his feet. “He’s bleeding pretty bad. See what you can do.”
Cinda took a step toward him, and Mitch plastered himself against the wall, shaking his head.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Mitch,” she said softly. “Let me see.”
Stuart cast a glance toward his brother. Mitch lifted his hand and felt his temple again. He winced slightly but then steeled his face against emotion. At least the life had come back into his eyes, and he seemed to know what was happening.
“I’m okay,” Mitch said. “It just grazed me.”
“It grazed you hard enough to knock you on your ass.” Stuart slid his rifle through a small gap in the shutters. “Another inch and we’d have located that brain of yours.”
“Ha ha,” Mitch said.
Stuart peered through the slit and studied the dooryard, trying to gauge where the shots had come from. He was aware of Cinda working behind him. He heard the sound of cloth ripping and a strangled sound from his brother when Cinda pressed the makeshift bandage against Mitch’s head.
“Christ, woman! That fucking hurts!”
“Oh, stop being a big baby,” she cooed.
Stuart cast a glance behind to see her lead Mitch to the table and push him into a chair. His brother looked pale, and blood had already soaked through the cloth and trickled down his cheek. Stuart tried to concentrate on the task at hand and not think about how close that bullet had come to ending his brother’s life. He tossed some strands of hair out of his eyes and focused once again on the woods.
“When I get you cleaned up, I’ll make us a nice dinner,” Cinda said.
“It’ll probably be poisoned,” Mitch muttered.
“Only yours,” she said. “Now relax.”
After about ten minutes, he heard Cinda toss a couple pieces of wood inside the stove. Stuart stood at the window for several more minutes, listening to the soft murmurs of Cinda’s voice. He blinked, trying to force some moisture back into his eyes.
“Press harder, Mitch. We have to get the bleeding stopped. Are you feeling dizzy? Just let me…No, don’t pull away. I’m just going to clean it a little bit. Then I’m going to look around for a sewing kit. Do you have one?”
“Oh no,” Mitch said. “I’m not letting you sew me.”
“Rather bleed to death?” Cinda said.
Mitch made a grunting sound.
Stuart wiped a bead of sweat away from his eye. He glanced toward her. “What are the chances your friend wants you dead?”
She froze then pressed a clean cloth against Mitch’s temple. “If it’s who I think it is, it’s my stepfather, and he wouldn’t want me dead.”
Stuart frowned. “Then what is he doing?”
Her jaw clenched, and she shook her head, her golden curls cascading around her shoulders. “He’s trying to scare me into coming home.”
“Why? What’s he hope to gain?”
“He plans to sell me. Apparently, there’s good money in whores.”
“Son of a bitch,” Stuart said. “Is he the reason you ended up falling out of a wagon?”
Cinda nodded but refused to look at him. Mitch stared at her until she finally glanced his way. She chewed on her bottom lip.
“No wonder you wanted out of this territory,” Mitch said.
“Seemed like a good time to get lost,” Cinda said.
“Well, he’s a dumb son of a bitch.” Mitch shook his head. “His plan’s going to backfire. I don’t know any woman who’d go home just to be sold off.”
“I’ll have to,” Cinda murmured.
Mitch’s forehead crunched, and he grimaced. “Why?”
“Because he wasn’t shooting at me,” Cinda said.
Stuart closed the shutter and heaved a sigh. “That bullet nick your brain after all, Mitch? The stepdaddy doesn’t give a damn if we’re dead.” He turned around and walked toward them.
Mitch’s gaze locked on him then he glanced at Cinda. “But she would.”
“Exactly,” Stuart said. “That was a warning. I suspect he’ll give her a couple days to get home before he tries it again. I think he fired off a couple shots and left. I imagine he was somewhat surprised he actually hit you.”
“If one of us is dead, he loses his leverage,” Mitch said.
Stuart nodded. “There hasn’t been any movement out there, so I’ll check on the horses and get some water for coffee.” He lifted the pot off the stove and turned toward the door.
Cinda grabbed the pot out of his hand. “I’ll do it. There are a few things I want to look for. You find me a sewing kit.” She started toward the door then turned. “I know enough about healing to keep Mitch alive. I can also cook, do laundry, and keep this place clean while you do your mining. We can try it for a few days and see how it works. If you’re happy, you can pay me what you think it’s worth then I’ll be out of your hair. If you want to fuck, I can do that, too, though I’m probably not very good at it.”
“It’s easier than falling out of a wagon,” Mitch said with a smile.
“And a lot more fun,” Stuart said.
Cinda’s lashes flickered as a blush stole over her face. “We can do that if you like. I can see how I might like it. Either way…” She straightened up and lifted her chin. “I won’t be a bother, and I’ll keep my hands away from your gold. That’s a promise.” She glanced between them. “Is it a deal?”
Stuart cast a quick look at his brother. Mitch looked curious and a lot more open-minded than he had an hour before.
Mitch nodded. “I think we can call it a deal for now. We can negotiate the details later.”
“Good then. Keep that cloth pressed on your face. Stu, find me a needle and thread. I’ll be right back.” She vanished out the door before either of them could say a word.
“Didn’t take you long to change your mind,” Stuart said.
“Bullets have a way of making you look at things differently. She’s had a hell of a life. She deserves better.”
“I’ve been trying to tell you not all women are like Missy Carter.”
Mitch ran a hand through his hair and stared out the door. “’Spose not.”
“Se
ems a fair trade. We’ll get some clean clothes and a few good meals out of the deal, and she’ll get a little money to get out of the territory.”
“If she doesn’t get us killed first.”
Stu nodded. “That could be a problem.”
“I’m willing to risk it.” Mitch pulled the cloth away from his wound and tilted his face. “How’s it look? Will I live?”
Stuart smiled. “You just might. Let’s hope she’s a good seamstress, too, so you stay pretty.”
Chapter 6
Mitch woke to the feel of a soft hand caressing his face. He vaguely remembered being stitched up, having supper, and Cinda insisting he get into bed. He’d protested, saying he felt good, but had done as she asked. He remembered the feel of her hand as she checked his bandage then…nothing.
He tried to open his eyes but immediately closed them when a burst of pain shot through the side of his head.
“I imagine you have a headache.”
He shielded his eyes against the dim bit of light coming through the window and peered through half-closed lids to see a halo of golden hair and the soft smile on Cinda’s face.
He tried to smile but found very few of his face muscles worked. “It feels more like the top of my head has been blown off.”
Stuart chuckled. “Close, but not quite.”
Squinting, Mitch glanced toward the sound of his brother’s voice. He opened his eyes wider and saw Stu at the table, shoveling eggs into his mouth. He rose on one elbow, wincing at the pain that spiked through his head. Cinda held a mug toward him.
“Drink this. It won’t numb all the pain, but it will help a little.”
He sniffed at the concoction and grimaced at the stench that wafted from the mug. “I hate to ask. What is it?”
Cinda smiled. “Just an old family recipe my grandmother taught me. Drink up. I guarantee you’ll feel like a new man.”
He glanced toward his brother’s breakfast plate. “I’d rather have what he’s having.”
Cinda nudged the mug closer. “Later. Come on. Be brave.”
He let her tip it toward his lips and managed to gulp it down. When she gave his shoulder a little shove, he fell back onto the bed.
The next thing he knew, sunlight streamed through the open doorway. He gingerly sat up, anticipating the stab of pain and found that the headache had receded to a dull throb. He was alone in the cabin, but he smelled the delicious aroma of venison stew. He swung his legs to the floor, tested his balance and helped himself to some lunch. When he finished, he shuffled toward the door. The dooryard was empty, so he headed around the cabin to the barn.
The doors were open, and the stalls were empty. Mitch glanced toward the work bench. The jar of nuggets sat exactly where he’d left it, completely untouched. There was no way she could have missed them last night when she’d checked on the horses, and if she’d been the one to let the horses out this morning, the nuggets would have been winking in the dark shadows at the first touch of sunshine.
She could have been long gone, with both a horse and a small fortune.
When he stepped out of the barn, he heard familiar singing. He smiled and headed toward the sound.
He found her in the clearing behind the barn. She had strung a line between two trees and had just begun to hang her laundry. Beneath her dress, her hips swayed lightly in time to the rhythm of her song. It was the prettiest sight he’d ever seen. The horses grazed in the distance. He started toward her and stopped when he saw his brother come up the embankment carrying a basket filled with wet clothes.
Stuart put the basket down beside her then wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled his face into her neck. She giggled and squirmed but didn’t protest when Stu reached down and cupped his hand between her legs. Mitch watched his twin gently massage her pussy through the fabric. Cinda leaned back against him, her head on his shoulder. When she raised her face and Stuart leaned down to kiss her, Mitch whirled around, deciding he’d seen enough.
“Mitch!”
He froze and waited. When he felt her hand on his arm, he turned around.
* * * *
Mitch looked so hurt, so betrayed. It was the last thing she wanted. In fact, she’d gotten it into her head that if they’d let her, she wanted to stay with them permanently. With both of them. It might be wrong, but she didn’t care. She had no idea what she’d gotten herself into by climbing that little embankment and walking into their cottage. All she knew was her body begged for the feel of their hands, and her lips loved the touch of their mouths.
“How are you feeling?” She reached up to touch the bandage, but he stopped her.
“Never better.” He cast a suspicious glance toward Stuart. “But I should go back to the cabin. You don’t need me.”
“You don’t have any idea what I need.” She tilted her face toward him. “Can I show you?”
When he nodded, she took his hand and led him back toward the blanket she and Stuart had spread out after lunch. She walked to the center and tugged off her boots, tossing them into the grass. Slowly, she unbuttoned her dress. When it puddled around her ankles, she stood before them naked and willing. The warm summer air stirred her hair and felt good on her bare flesh. That fluttering between her legs begged for attention. It was all up to them.
A delicious energy coursed up and down her skin and made her tremble with a desire she’d never felt. She wanted their hands to touch every inch of her, both inside and out. But right now they stared at her like two little boys peering at a frothy confection in a bakery window. She knew how that felt and determined the best thing to do would be to hand it to them to see the delight on their faces. She had no trouble taking charge.
She cocked her hip and gave them a smile. Their gazes roamed over every inch of her flesh. “I seem to be the only naked one. It’s going to be difficult to fuck me with your clothes on.”
That got them moving. Denim and flannel flew around her, and she took advantage of their activity to take a peek in the bakery window herself.
If she thought she’d been hot yesterday with Stuart’s hands on her, she’d been wrong. As she watched, they revealed aching temptation with each movement of their hands. She’d been right about the muscles under the clothing. Sleek muscles rippled beneath chests covered with dark fur. She wanted to press her face against their chests and rub her cheek over their skin to see how it felt. She’d seen plenty of miners since arriving in the Dakotas, and none of them looked like these men. They obviously worked hard for what they earned. She’d heard them say something about a shaft and wondered why they chose to dig when gold littered their water source.
Their upper bodies were darkened by hours spent in the sunlight as though they’d dug through a mountain and beyond. Maybe they had. They seemed like determined men. Below their waists, their skin tones lightened, but even there, their skin was far darker than hers.
She licked her lips as she inspected long, strong legs and back up to the large cocks that swelled toward her, the veins dark and pulsing.
“You two look good enough to eat.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Stuart said. He turned to his brother. “You up to going first?”
“Absolutely.”
Mitch took a step toward her. Cinda had no idea what Stuart had meant, but by the look on Mitch’s face, she might be having a good afternoon. Her pussy fluttered again and clenched down hard. Her hand had a mind of its own, and was way ahead of her own thinking, because it slipped between her legs, and her finger stroked over the swollen nub of flesh. Delightful little pulses racked the lower half of her body. She couldn’t believe how wet she’d become. Her pussy felt slick, slippery, and drenched in juices.
Mitch dropped to his knees in front of her and gripped her hips. When he lifted his head, she saw something dark and seductive in his gaze, something that made her heart pound. She thought that no matter what he planned to do, she would let him and beg for more.
“Move your hand,” he said.
“What are you going to do?” she murmured.
“Don’t worry,” Stuart said, “you’ll like it.”
Cinda stared into Mitch’s eyes. “I don’t doubt that for a minute.”
Mitch didn’t say another word. He moved his hands closer to her heat. They slid slowly over her hip bones and downward, inch by inch, leaving a trail of twisted fire that sparked and sizzled along her skin. Both thumbs skimmed over the soft hairs above her pussy then downward to stroke against the lips. Cinda shivered when he spread the lips apart and leaned toward her.
At the first touch of his mouth, Cinda bucked in his hands. He dropped gentle kisses on each lip then on her clit, where his lips tugged a little before his tongue swiped over it.
Cinda dropped her head back against Stuart’s chest and pressed her hips closer to his brother’s face. When she felt Mitch’s tongue swipe the entire length of her pussy, she shuddered violently and nearly collapsed. His tongue dipped inside, licking and stroking the soft skin. Cinda almost twisted away at the intense pleasure that spiraled through her body, but she held herself still by willpower. She wanted this. One wrong movement might make him stop.
Slowly, Mitch tugged her forward as he lowered his body to the blanket. Cinda followed and felt Stuart’s hand guide her downward until she was straddling Mitch’s face. Mitch curled his hands around her ass and seemingly held her up by magic because Cinda almost dissolved into a puddle. Stuart must have sensed her muscles threatening to collapse because he straddled Mitch behind her and cupped her elbows. She closed her eyes and surrendered to them.
Mitch licked and sucked every inch of her pussy. His tongue continued to dart inside her then skipped away to swipe at her clit, causing shivers of sensation to prickle through the already spiraling pleasure. When his lips latched onto the pulsing nub and sucked hard, his fingers slid over the cleft of her ass. She wondered briefly what he planned to do, but she couldn’t seem to get her mind to focus. As he dipped one finger toward her small hole, she clenched her muscles but relaxed immediately when her fluttering pussy begged for her attention. She lifted up as her entire body tensed, but Mitch followed her movement, and his finger pushed inside her ass.
The Gold Digger Page 8