by Howe, Cheryl
“Some men wouldn’t be bothered that you were handcuffed. In fact, seeing you bound would only add to the excitement.” His gaze was hooded, his voice lowered. “You might like it too. Being helpless. Being able to do nothing while I ran my hands over your body, spread your legs…”
She wanted to tell him she’d rather die than let him touch her again, but she was hanging on his every word. Her breath pushed hot and heavy through her nostrils.
He ran his hands back up to her shoulders, then gripped her hard enough to force a gasp. “But I’m not that kind of man.”
He dragged her by a bound arm to where Corey sat, then lowered her to the ground next to her brother. She hated herself for noting that he handled her with more care than he had Corey. It didn’t mean anything, because he didn’t care.
He stood above them and gazed down at her. “Look at me.”
She didn’t want to look. Her cheeks burned, half with embarrassment and half with the desire he had ignited at his simple touch. He had even turned her body against her, using his sexuality as another thing with which to taunt her. Shamefully, she ached for what he had described.
“Look at me, Lorelei.” His words were a harsh command.
She glared up at him just to show him she could. She wasn’t afraid of him, and this wasn’t over.
Shadows cut across his face but she doubted the lack of light made his expression any darker. He showed no compassion at all—and there was no hint that he had ever had any. “This is who I am. Is this the man you wanted to know?”
He walked away before she could answer.
CHAPTER NINE
Coyote Pass’s tallest building peeked over the next dusty rise, but sighting his destination didn’t tempt Braddock to increase the pace. He’d gotten past caring if they ever reached the outlaw town. Numbness had slipped over him like a hood. Each day was just something to survive. Riding with a morosely silent Corey and Lorelei, both handcuffed to their saddles, marked the exclamation point of the last ten years of his life. It was the hell he’d been working up to without even knowing it.
He should be happy to have his worldview restored so powerfully. He’d slithered back into his old self like a snake returning to its discarded skin, a very unpleasant sensation made worse by his moments of freedom. The emotions he’d experienced with Lorelei—not just the lust, but the tenderness, the laughing—had rubbed parts of him raw. His suit of indifference no longer fit. It scratched to the point where he was sure real blood dripped down his rib cage. He glanced over his shoulder. Despite her best efforts, Lorelei looked tired and dirty. The faded white flowers that dotted her brown cotton bodice and skirt had vanished in the coat of dust that covered them all. In two short days he’d accomplished what the four-year war and the slow loss of her family hadn’t done: he’d broken Lorelei’s spirit. He quickly returned his gaze to the dilapidated town that grew in size as they topped the hill. The time had passed to let the urge to release her win.
If he had wanted to be decent, he should have done it the first night. Actually, he never should have lost his temper at all. For the tenth time in the last hour, he mulled over the things he had overheard.
With a cool head, he could convince himself that Corey had been trying to talk Lorelei into something she wanted no part of. But at the time all he saw was her betrayal. And that he wasn’t the first man she’d tricked.
He gripped his reins and spurred his horse over the rolling landscape, bringing the town’s deserted main street into full view. Braddock had almost believed that he could trust her. But he wasn’t the kind of man who trusted or wanted trust from anyone else. He was a cold bastard all the way down to the granite that rested where his heart should be. Maybe that was the reason he survived what killed other men. He didn’t have the organ to stop that the others had.
“That’s Coyote Pass,” yelled Corey from behind him.
Braddock was grateful for the distraction from his turbulent thoughts. “Glad your memory’s coming back.”
Corey managed to stop Langston’s horse without the use of the reins. “I’m not going there.”
“I wasn’t asking you.”
Lorelei tossed her head, trying to shake away a lock of hair that had come loose from her bonnet. The pinto she rode continued to trot forward. “What’s so bad about Coyote Pass?”
Braddock tried not to cringe when he noticed how she struggled without the use of her hands. He grabbed the horse’s bridle before she passed him.
“Mulcahy runs that town. He’ll be there,” answered Corey.
Lorelei blew her wayward curl, but it fell back into her eyes. “Fine. Let Braddock arrest him so we can get this over with.”
“Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. Mulcahy’s bounty has tripled. And this is the first time he’s left any witnesses. He won’t be bold enough to hang around where he can be caught." Braddock gauged Corey’s reaction, which happily saved him from watching Lorelei.
Corey yanked on his bonds, causing his horse to nervously dance sideways. “He’ll have men there. Everyone answers to him.”
“If you tell me where Mulcahy’s hiding out, then maybe we won’t have to go to Coyote Pass.”
“You’ve got a death wish, Braddock. ’Cause they’ll kill you, too. You’re a bounty hunter. Half the men in that town are wanted for something.”
“Maybe I do have a death wish. Let’s go.”
Braddock headed Lucky toward town. He didn’t want to notice the way Lorelei frowned when he talked so carelessly about his life.
“What about my sister?” called Corey. “What’s going to happen to her if we both get killed?”
Braddock brought Lucky to a halt. He knew the kid was more worried about himself than Lorelei, but he had a point. “I’ll look out for her. You’re on your own.”
“I’m handcuffed. I’ll be a sitting duck.”
Lorelei turned to her brother. “Maybe you should just tell him what he wants to know.”
Braddock watched the exchange between the two, wondering if Lorelei knew more than he’d thought. Maybe she had been in on Corey’s scheme from the beginning. Part of him wanted to believe that. Then maybe the last flicker of compassion would die out and he could truly be himself again.
“I don’t know what he wants to know. Can’t you see he’s crazy?”
She glanced at Braddock. Their gazes held. Painful emotion welled up in him like a fountaining wound, and he had to bite the inside of his bottom lip to keep from blurting out that he was sorry.
“He’s hot crazy,” she said, looking away first.
Braddock shifted in his saddle to keep his exhalation of relief from being noticed.
She studied the barren town. “I must be the crazy one to be out here with either of you.”
The grin creeping up on him felt too good to stop. “I told you that from the start.”
Braddock guided his mount beside Lorelei. He fished out the key to her handcuffs before he fully realized what he was about to do. Just as well. Thinking always got him into trouble. He unlocked the cuffs.
“Thank you.” She rubbed her freed wrists.
He reached into his saddlebag and retrieved one of Corey’s pistols. If he watched her much longer he’d have to take her hands in his to examine the damage he’d done to her soft skin. Instead he loaded the pistol, then handed it to her. “You can thank me by not shooting me in the back.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
He cocked an eyebrow, silently reminding her of her promise to slit his throat. She dropped her gaze to examine the gun more closely. He shouldn’t be so satisfied at the proof that she’d never intended to carry out her threat, but he was. “You do know how to use it?”
She cocked the hammer, then released it. “I’m better with a rifle.”
“What about me?” asked Corey. “Those are my guns.” Braddock feigned surprise. “I just took your advice and made sure your sister had protection. I figured since she was your main concern you wouldn’t
mind her using your gun.”
“If you’d let me go, I could protect her myself.”
Braddock chose to ignore him. There was too much he had to say about the boy’s ability to protect his sister. He turned to her. “Keep the pistol hidden. Use it only if you absolutely have to. And that doesn’t include saving him or me. Got it?”
“She isn’t going to lift a finger to save you, Braddock. She’s got you all figured out. Right, Lori?”
Lorelei gazed at Braddock, her face open, her eyes bright.
“Understand me?” he said firmly.
“Tell him, Lori. Tell him what you think of him,” Corey pleaded.
She held Braddock’s gaze. “I think I understand.”
“Good.”
This time he looked away first, sure the pounding of his own heart gave away how much her words meant to him. What did she understand—why he’d handcuffed her or why he was such a bastard? Well, she didn’t understand either.
“Follow me,” he called without looking behind him. The sound of Corey’s whining assured him they complied.
“Lori, can’t you see what he’s doing? He’s going to get me killed.”
“Seems to me you’ve been doing a pretty good job of that on your own, Corey Lochlain O’Sullivan.”
“Don’t tell me you’re on his side.”
“I’m on the side that gets me out of this blasted saddle the fastest.”
“Mulcahy’s going to kill me!”
Braddock swung Lucky around and trotted toward Corey. “Do you have any idea how to keep quiet?”
“What?”
Braddock retrieved the key to the boy’s handcuffs and unlocked him. “Maybe if you could keep your mouth shut, we could leave here without alerting the whole town that you’re the one who screwed up the stagecoach robbery.”
“I didn’t screw it up. Mulcahy didn’t plan right. He didn’t know there’d be so many guards.”
“What did you say?” Lorelei turned in her saddle.
Corey glanced out over the cactus covered hills surrounding the town, realizing his mistake. “It’s just what I heard. It wasn’t my fault. That’s all I’m saying, but Mulcahy won’t see it that way.”
Lorelei stared at her brother, and Braddock knew she didn’t believe him. She’d never known anything about the robbery. Not that he’d really doubted it, but even his cynical side couldn’t deny the shock she tried to blink out of her wide blue eyes. For her sake, Braddock almost wished the kid’s story were true.
“Let’s just ride into town like we’re passing through and see what we find out.”
“Can I have a gun?” asked Corey.
Braddock reached out and tugged the brim of Corey’s brown slouch hat down on his head. “No. Now keep your mouth shut, and I’m sure no one will recognize you.”
He urged Lucky to pick his way down the rock covered slope.
“I might have helped myself to a few extra cards here and there, but I wasn’t the only one,” said Corey.
“Shut up, kid.” Braddock would be a lot more amused by Corey’s fall from grace—not that he’d had far to fall—if it weren’t for Lorelei’s silence.
He turned to her. “You’re my wife and your brother’s a hired hand. We’re on our way back from selling a herd of cattle in Santa Fe. We have a spread northwest of here. But don’t say anything unless you have to. Let me do the talking.”
“I don’t want to be the hired hand.”
“Shut up, Corey,” said Lorelei before Braddock had the chance.
At their approach, the weathered town of false front buildings remained still and silent. Before they reached the first structure, a planked two story with an overhang, Braddock made sure the nose of Lorelei’s horse could be hit by a swish of Lucky’s tail.
Coyote Pass had been built by a group of settlers who didn’t last. Run out by Indians, outlaws, and the sheer desolation of the location, the settlers had left their hard work to be taken over by anyone who didn’t want to be found. A store remained open where one could actually buy or trade things, if they didn’t mind stolen goods. Next door, a livery stable worked on the same philosophy, but the main attraction was the saloon and brothel that had once been intended as a fine hotel. Ending the street was a church with intact stained glass windows and a steeple whose crowning iron cross Braddock was always surprised to see had not yet been hit by lightning.
His palms itched to rest on the butt of his gun, but that would be a mistake. He was supposed to be a rancher. He slipped off Lucky’s back and grabbed the pinto’s bridle.
“Get on her other side, kid.”
For once Corey didn’t argue, and he did as Braddock asked. The stallions stood taller than the young pinto and since Lorelei didn’t sit exactly tall in the saddle, they were able to shelter her.
Braddock studied the quiet street. Nobody was going to die today. He’d make sure of that.
They walked all the way to the saloon without seeing another soul. Mulcahy wasn’t the only one lying low. Civilization was pushing west with the railroad, and outlaws were becoming as hunted as buffalo.
Braddock tied Lucky to the rail at the far side of the once whitewashed building. Paint peeled in layers, making the grand facade look as though it were melting. The horse trough in front held a green film of algae in the bottom, and he didn’t want Lucky to test the slime for water. He tied the pinto next to Lucky, then helped Lorelei out of the saddle.
“Thank you,” she said a little too breathlessly.
He looked away before he saw the shy smile he heard in her voice. Corey dismounted and Braddock grabbed the pinto’s reins.
“I’ll water the horses.” Corey hunched behind Lucky’s tall, thick back.
“I don’t think so.” Braddock found a place on the splintered boardwalk that seemed solid, and held his hand out to Lorelei.
She didn’t hesitate to place her gloved palm in his. He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, then unsnapped the metal thong holding his pistols in their holsters. Lorelei’s grip on his arm tensed.
“Come on, kid.” He nodded toward the saloon.
Corey’s mouth pursed into a white line.
Braddock stopped him before he said something stupid and gave them away. “The time to argue is over.”
Then he moved forward and peeked into the dark cavern of the saloon. The door hung off its hinges. He guided Lorelei inside, keeping her close. Dusty windows filtered out the bright daylight. Two men sat at a table by the back wall, playing cards by the glow of a lantern. Another man hunched over a table near the bar and cradled a bottle of whiskey, his right eye swollen shut, his lip split. He stood at their approach.
The card players in the back stopped and stared.
Braddock fought the urge to shove Lorelei behind him. If he didn’t panic, Lorelei would be the perfect cover. No one in their right mind would bring a woman here if they knew the sort of lowlifes who made this place their home.
“Are you open for business? Like to get a drink for my wife. She needs to get out of the sun,” he said, effecting a Southern drawl to make himself sound friendly.
“Absolutely,” said the man with the black eye. He grinned, then winced when the effort tugged at his cracked lip.“ ’Scuse me.” He giggled. “Forgot about my face. I must look a sight.”
The man was stinking drunk. He stumbled behind the bar. “What can I get you folks?”
Braddock set Lorelei in a chair near the door. Corey stuck by his sister, keeping his head down and discreetly turned away from the man who appeared to be the bartender.
Luckily, the drunk was far from observant. Braddock approached the marble slab that served as a bar, the card players at the far table in his peripheral vision.
“Regular beer for me and the kid. Ginger beer for my wife, if you’ve got it.” Braddock leaned his back on the bar and surveyed the room like a tenderfoot. “This place must have been something in its day. Didn’t expect to find anything so fancy out here in the middle of nowh
ere.”
Red wallpaper with a swirled gold-leaf pattern peeled from the walls. The floor matched the pink marble of the bar, but which held more dirt was debatable. Braddock swore he saw hoof prints in the drifts of dust and sand that had accumulated here. A chandelier hung askew from the half painted ceiling, dripping crystals like a waterfall.
The bartender giggled from behind him and set three dusty bottles on the counter. “I don’t even know what ginger beer is.”
Braddock picked up one of the green bottles, examined the murky liquid inside, then turned the bottle upside down. The contents had congealed into a sludge that had trouble sliding to the corked top.
“How about if we just stick with whiskey?”
“That we have. For all three of you?” He pushed a bottle and two large shot glasses across the bar. They made trails in the dust that allowed the rose grained marble to peek through.
“The missus had better stay away from the whiskey. She’s a delicate thing,” Braddock said, as if he were confiding in the man.
The bartender glanced in Lorelei’s direction. “She’s a mighty pretty one.” His gaze jumped to the card players, and he frowned. He leaned forward and whispered, “Don’t want to seem inhospitable, but this isn’t the best place to bring a lady of quality, or your son, if you know what I mean.” Braddock lessened the distance between them. He nodded to the two men who were watching the exchange. “Had trouble here, have you?”
“You don’t know the trouble.” The bartender gingerly fingered his swollen eye.
A chair scraping against the marble floor drew their attention to the table in the back. One of the card players stood. His belt sagged with the weight of two navy revolvers. “Who’s your friend, Archie?”
Archie grabbed a soiled cloth from under the counter and wiped the bar, leaving as much grime as he mopped up. “A stranger passing through.”
The man strode toward them, both his hands resting on his guns. “What’s your business, stranger?”
Braddock spread his hands on the bar. “I don’t want any trouble. I’ve got my wife and son with me. We’re on our way back from selling our herd in Santa Fe.”
