“You have no idea what’s going on here,” he ground out between his clenched teeth.
“There is nothing wrong with my vision. You practically tied up the money with a ribbon before you so nicely handed it over to…” Again, she stopped short of blurting out, “Your friends.” “Now, you’re standing here arguing with me instead of going after the thieves.”
His face tightened, something she didn’t think possible.
“Tick tock, Mister Steele. That’s the sound of the minutes passing while the bandits and Daddy’s money gets farther and farther away.”
“Always knew Gerard had indulged you far too much,” he whispered in an angry voice. “And suspected if you got riled, you would be hell on wheels. Both those flaws are easily overlooked when wrapped up in the package that is you, Amelia. What I didn’t realize was, underneath that cute, sweet as pie, wide-eyed innocent, yet flirtatious exterior lies an insolent, ill-mannered brat. But that can be fixed, and darlin’, I’m the man to do it—later. For now, stay put,” he ordered. He leaned in until the warmth of his breath brushed against her face. From the corner of her eye, she saw him point at the ground in a stilted gesture as he continued, “And by that, I mean do not move from this spot while I decide what to do with you.”
She opened her mouth to protest both his insults and orders, except he had already turned and stalked off, clearly expecting her to obey. It was her turn to be shocked. Slack jawed in disbelief, she stared as he approached the other men, who couldn’t have missed a word of their exchange from this distance, and proceeded to have a calm chat. It was as though he hadn’t called her a spoiled brat in front of witnesses and then offered a veiled threat. She didn’t quite know how he intended to “fix her” or why he thought he had the right to—their kiss in the gazebo notwithstanding of anything, considering what had so recently been revealed about him—but she wasn’t planning to stick around and find out. Not when, in a matter of hours, the bank deposit would be over the Mexican border—lost to them, forever.
Incensed, she ignored his direct command—just who did he think he was to order her about anyway—and re-entered the awful stage. A place her sore bones and aching hip hoped to never encounter again. Instead, there she was, back inside, hefting heavy sacks and boxes out of her way, with more strength than she knew she possessed. Borne of anger and outrage, no doubt. Quickly, she uncovered her carpetbag enough to open it and dig out her pistols. Deftly checking the load in each, she shoved one into the waistband of her skirt. A holster would have been better, allowing her to draw much faster, but she couldn’t very well wear it to the breakfast table with her father that morning. And the wide leather belt wouldn’t fit in her bag—not with two guns and extra cartridges. So, her waistband would have to do.
Alighting once more, she again shot Jake a withering glare. Her effort was wasted, however, for he didn’t expire on the spot. In fact, he missed it entirely, having his back turned as if she had no consequence.
“We’ll just see about that,” she grumbled as she stomped around to the rear of the coach, where the men’s horses were tethered. “If they won’t do the jobs they were hired for, the yellow-bellied cowards, then I’ll protect the company’s interests myself.”
She chose the first horse she came to, untied its reins, and led him a few feet away from the others to mount. As she grasped a fistful of his mane near the pommel, she put her foot in the high stirrup, thankful she’d had the forethought to wear her divided skirt. Next, she gripped the rear cantle with her other hand and hauled herself upward.
The horse shifted as she hovered above the ground, a few inches shy of getting her right leg up and over. Hoping her body weight would give her the momentum she needed, she leaned forward, her chest falling across the worn leather. By far the most awkward mount she’d ever executed, she was relieved no one paid her any mind and witnessed her behind sticking up in the air as she struggled.
“Should… have worn… trousers,” she grunted between her teeth as the big roan sidestepped. She summoned what remained of her strength and pulled hard, finally managing to swing her leg over. While she righted herself, panting for breath, she had a moment of regret for not being more selective with her mount. The antsy animal tossed its head, obviously taking umbrage over the ineptness of his strange rider.
“Easy, boy,” she murmured, speaking in a soothing tone. “Believe it or not, I know what I’m doing. You’re just a bigger fella than I’m used to.”
She patted his neck when he snorted softly as if in disdain. Amelia smiled. He was a beauty, with a shiny red coat and jet black mane, and he seemed intelligent, as if he understood her. Maybe she hadn’t chosen so poorly after all.
“You look the sort who enjoys adventure,” she murmured low as she leaned forward, close to his ear. “How about you and me go catch us some bad guys?”
As if in full agreement, he raised his big head, shaking out his glorious dark mane, then stood still, waiting for his next command.
At least she held influence with a male of one species.
Lightly touching her heels to his flanks, she snapped the reins and ordered softy, “Geeyap.”
With no other urging, he moved forward. Amelia’s lips curved into a satisfied smile once they cleared the other horses, because her purloined mount had speed. Racing away from the crippled vehicle, she ignored the shouts from the men, one angrier and louder than the rest. Knowing he would outpace any of the others, Amelia let the strong, beautiful animal fly over the dry scrub, her thoughts turning from the very disappointing man she left behind in the dust and ahead to how she’d recover the five thousand dollars and earn much needed retribution.
Unable to believe what he was seeing, Jake stood under the blazing sun, sweat trickling down his back, his mouth dry from the pounds of dust he’d breathed in all day. He removed his hat, rubbed his forearm across his wet brow, and blinked the sting of salt from his eyes. But the image of a horse running hell for leather over the hard-packed open field did not change. As he stared with rising anger at the cloud of dirt kicking up in its wake, he saw an occasional flash of bright color glimmering in the sun. Although the rider grew smaller with each passing second, he knew it was Amelia’s long golden hair flying out behind her as she took off at full out run, in pursuit of the armed bandits.
“Damn fool woman!” he bit out as he turned on his booted heel and stalked to where the other horses were tied. When he got hold of her, she wouldn’t sit comfortably for a week. First, for hiding out in that closed up death trap for hours, risking her neck in a rollover or succumbing to heat exhaustion. Second, for interfering where her cute little calico covered ass didn’t belong. Third, for being foolish enough to even think about confronting the Viejo gang, who kept sliding across the Rio Grande to harass the locals at gun point as they lined their pockets with hard-earned Texas gold. Fourth, for endangering the investigation he had painstakingly been piecing together for the past six months. He could go on all day, certainly, with a laundry list of her infractions, but not the least of them was that she’d stolen Arrow, his own fucking horse!
His wrath was immeasurable. Wisely, his men gave him a wide berth, not commenting on his grumbling and cursing as he loosened the reins on one of the other men’s horses. “Little Miss Amelia is about to learn a lesson on her proper role in this company, which includes staying safe at home while leaving dangerous work to the men—something her daddy should have taught her years ago, over his knee.” He stopped his vociferous rant before silently adding, if she’s spoiled my chances of closing this case, boss’s daughter or not, she’ll be over my lap for a good long time, too.
As he mounted, he ground out his orders to Will Simpkins, “Change the wheel as fast as you can, then head out. Although the cash is gone, we’ve still got the post to deliver and a contract to fulfill. I’ll catch up with you, once I corral myself a towheaded brat.”
“Uh, Jake,” Will began hesitantly. “Don’t forget it’s Amelia. Banks won’t take kindl
y to her being, uh… lessoned, I’m betting.”
“Gerard Banks isn’t here. Further, this is Texas, where frontier justice prevails. As foreman of this line, I’m claiming authority over a misbehaving, horse thieving stowaway. He can fire me later, if he wants, but no father worthy of the name would disagree with the tanning the reckless little minx has coming, especially after saving her from a gang of cutthroats who won’t have afternoon tea in mind if she chases them down. He’ll be thanking me for protecting her butt and returning it safe and sound, despite it being thoroughly spanked.” The last bit he shot back while setting spurs to his unfamiliar mount.
“Careful,” Benson called after him. “Midnight there tends to bite.”
Good-natured Mike Benson didn’t seem to care he’d commandeered his horse, not that he had a choice, since Jake had already left the busted stage and his men in the dust.
If Midnight had the slightest bit of animal instinct whatsoever, he wouldn’t dare give his rider any trouble, let alone sink his teeth into any part of him. In his current foul mood, Jake was liable to bite back.
Chapter 3
On a rise above the banks of the Nueces River, about fifty miles outside of Corpus Christi, where the water was shallow enough for the horses to swim across and wagons and coaches could ford it in dry conditions, Amelia lay flat on her belly, eyeing the dirty rotten thieves through the sights of her appropriated Henry lever-action repeating rifle.
She thanked providence it was a familiar weapon; the same one she’d been taught to shoot with and used for target practice often.
Her daddy didn’t know, of course. He’d pop a vein in his head for sure, if he found out. She’d sweet-talked Gus, the stable manager, into give her shooting lessons when she’d turned sixteen. Unlike her father, who thought she was all fluff and calico and needed a big strong man to protect her, Gus recognized she had brains in her blonde head. He also had three daughters about her age and made sure every one of them learned how to shoot, acknowledging the west was still a raw frontier and a woman caught unaware and unable to defend herself could end up in dire straits.
Amelia appreciated his forward thinking, finding it refreshing. She’d grown tired of men basing their opinions of her only on appearance, including the likes of Jacob Steele. But she apparently had bigger cajones than he did, or he would be the one intent on getting the bank deposit back, instead of standing around wringing his hands like an old woman, chattering with his men.
Furious with him for betraying her daddy and breaking her heart, she fantasized it was Jake in her sights, not the bandits. But his image wavered, switching to memories of his contagious smile, his twinkling blue eyes, and his stirring kisses. Maybe, out of consideration of the tender feelings she had for him once, she’d aim for non-vital parts.
But these kinds of thoughts wouldn’t get her job done. As she tried to put him from her mind, she closed her eyes briefly and took a deep, steadying breath before squinting down the barrel once again.
A crack shot at distances up to one hundred and fifty yards, her accuracy got a little chancy beyond that, but with fifteen rounds, she had room for error. And with only five villains, rather than the dozen she’d been expecting, she felt confident she had them. Now, if she could only get up the gumption to go through with it.
Already cocked and ready, with the first shell in the chamber, Amelia targeted Renaldo. As her finger hovered over the trigger, preparing to squeeze, her hand shook the slightest bit.
She didn’t get off a shot.
Instead, the gun was pulled from her grip. Then a hand curled into the waistband at the back of her skirt and plucked her clear off the ground. As quick as a wink, she found herself tucked under a thickly muscled arm and carried like a sack of potatoes down the small bluff, away from her quarry.
She couldn’t keep the squeal of alarm from escaping her lips.
“Quiet,” a gruff voice snapped. “Unless you want an audience for the blistering your backside is about to get.”
Twisting in his grasp, she looked over her shoulder. Upon seeing Jake’s tensely clenched jaw, she didn’t need to be told he was furious. But he couldn’t be angrier than she was at him. Ignoring his misplaced wrath, she protested in a whisper, “You’re going the wrong way.” Gesturing toward the river, she added, “The Viejo brothers are gathered right over the hill. We’ve got ‘em all, Jake.”
“I saw them, Amelia,” he replied, also in a hushed voice. “Except I’m not going after them, and neither are you.”
“Why not?” she demanded, twisting in his inflexible hold.
“I have my reasons, not least of all, protecting your foolish hide.”
Disregarding the warm tingling in her belly that his concern prompted, she bit back shortly, “What? Are you meeting up with them later for your cut of the booty?”
“What are you blathering on about, little girl?”
“I’m not a little girl,” she gritted out between her teeth, now seething mad. “I saw you with Rodrigo.”
“Yes,” he agreed, without missing a step. “You saw all of us with Rodrigo. He and several others were holding everyone at gunpoint while they robbed us.”
“I don’t mean then, you lout. I meant last week, when you were plotting this theft by my father’s own back door.” She kicked, to no avail, his iron hold inflexible. And he seemed not to notice her fingers prying at his arm. “You’re a fake and a criminal. I can’t believe I was so taken in by you. Daddy will be beside himself.”
He said nothing, just kept on stalking down the hill with her firmly in hand.
To hell with this! And to hell with him!
She wasn’t about to submit to his warped brand of justice, not while his cohorts crossed the border and escaped with the deposit. Caught in his unusual hold, she had few options except to fight dirty. Twisting sharply, she latched onto the closest body part she could reach and bit down hard. She got a mouth full of dusty denim, but also a good amount of his thigh along with it. Like a snapping turtle, she clamped down and wouldn’t let go, thrashing and kicking as she bore down with her teeth.
“You little minx!” he exclaimed furiously—though in a muted tone—a moment before he squeezed her firmly around the middle. Robbed of breath, she had no choice except to release him. At once, he spun her, tucking her beneath his other arm. Facing backward, her bottom became a prime target for Jake’s broad hand. Without breaking stride, he paddled the back of her skirt. Even through two layers of cloth, it stung like the devil.
“Ouch!” she squawked. Yet, as soon as the exclamation left her lips, her eyes swung toward the top of the hill, hoping the sound hadn’t carried and the rolling river had drowned out her cry.
But his long strides had already taken them a good distance away. In fact, she could no longer see the spot where she had hunkered down for her ambush. By now, they had probably crossed the Nueces and were well on their way to Corpus Christi, where they could easily get lost in the rapidly expanding port city.
“Unhand me, you brute! You have no right to raise your hand to me.”
“I merely swatted your backside. You took a chunk out of my thigh.” He halted abruptly and swung her around. She was upright for a split-second, staring into his stern face, his eyes dark with anger. The next thing she knew, he had taken a seat and laid her wrong side up across his lap. Below her, she saw brown grass, the gnarled roots of a shade tree, part of the fallen trunk he was using as a seat, and his scuffed boots. Before she could assimilate all that was happening, his fingers unfastened the buttons at the side of her skirt and he yanked it down, clear to her knees.
“No!” she cried. “You can’t.”
“Watch me!” he growled in return.
She couldn’t see to do as he challenged, not in this position, but she bet he was getting an eyeful. Because it came to her, in a moment of dawning horror, that the drawers she’d worn today, selected because they fit the best under her divided skirt, were the old-fashioned kind with the split seam
and the tie in the back. Bent over like this, the gap would have widened, baring her behind to his gaze.
Her hand flew behind her, attempting to protect her modesty, except he caught it in a blink. His strong fingers wrapped around her wrist, pinning it out of the way. He didn’t delay in delivering the first smarting spank with his other hand. It landed swiftly and with a good deal of heat on the fullest part of her right cheek.
“Ow! How dare you!”
“I dare, brat, because you bit me and stole my horse.” Another swat fell on the other side, equaling the first in force and sting.
She bucked against his restraining arm, to no avail. “You practically tied up that strong box with a ribbon before handing it over to those thieves. Someone had to do something and that someone sure wasn’t you. You left me no choice.”
“You are reckless, foolhardy, and have no idea what you’re doing.” About ten, rapid-fire smacks accompanied his statement.
“At least I’m not a lying cheat!” she accused, her voice rising. “And I’ll have you know, I can ride and shoot as good as any man.”
Her insults didn’t seem to faze him, nor did they alter the rhythm of his punishing hand. “Ouch, Jake, stop!” she exclaimed.
“I’ve only just started, and when I said you don’t understand what you’re doing, I didn’t mean your shooting ability, although your claim remains to be seen. I’m referring to stowing away in that sweltering coach, not to mention what might have happened if one of the Viejo brothers had found you, instead of me. What if they decided to searched it for other valuables? You are Gerard’s only child, holding you for ransom would have cost him a great deal more than money! They wouldn’t have been as considerate as me and for damn sure wouldn’t have sent you home as innocent as they found you.”
Hero Undercover: 25 Breathtaking Bad Boys Page 107
