by Multiple
He looked back at the wolf. “Who are you?”
It said nothing, but he had the sense of the red-haired woman and the need to get to her.
“You’re a friend of hers. I got that. I meant you. Who are you?” He hadn’t told Sam about the wolf the first time because he’d hardly believed it himself. But with the great beast pacing back and forth three feet away it was hard to deny it. The animal was more than just an animal.
The image of Scarlett flooded him again. The force was brutal. The need to get up and get moving. Find her.
Find her now.
Kid was halfway to his knees before he caught himself.
“Stop.” He held out his hand. The wolf lunged, all fur and snapping teeth, driving Kid back to his ass.
“Easy!” He had to yell it over the angry noises vibrating off the wolf. “You need to listen to me. That horse went straight for the barn. When he comes in riderless they’ll come looking for me. That means more men, more guns. They aren’t going to pause before they shoot you. I’m trying to help you so back off.”
The words penetrated the wolf’s fury and he circled away. His movements were stiff and jerky, as though barely containing the temper gnawing away at his insides. Kid could appreciate the fury, he’d experienced it a time or two himself.
He watched the wolf watching him. He wasn’t going to shoot so magnificent a creature. He wasn’t going to let anyone else shoot it either. Everything about this bank job smelled to him. He’d seen the vault. It wasn’t damaged. He didn’t know how the girl got the gold out, what the gang had to do with a wolf or how they were all linked together.
“There’s a cabin. About a mile that way.” He pointed directly north. It was away from Mrs. Carson’s and away from the main house. The cabin had belonged to foreman once upon a time. But when his wife and children died from the fever, he’d fallen into a bottle and never climbed back out. Few liked to live this far from the main house, Mrs. Carson being an exception, so it sat, empty and unused.
“Go to the cabin. Wait there. I’ll go find your woman and bring her to you.”
The wolf froze, staring at him.
“I swear. It might not be till dawn. I have to get her from the house, but I will bring her. But you need to decide now. The way the horse bolted, he’s back and they’ll be out looking.”
Kid wasn’t sure how long he sat there, waiting for the wolf to decide. He sure the hell didn’t know how he understood when the wolf did make a decision. The animal’s lips curled back. A reminder. A threat.
A promise.
“By dawn.” He pledged. “I swear.”
The wolf nodded his head once and rushed him, cutting away only when Kid ducked. Kid panted, lifting his head, gaze chasing the wolf’s race northward.
“Son of a bitch,” he whispered. For a fleeting few seconds, he’d been sure he’d imagined the whole thing and the wolf was going to tear his head off. But he hadn’t.
Instead, he made it clear what he would do if Kid didn’t bring Scarlett to him.
Wincing, Kid climbed to his feet. He gathered the jacket and the rifle, fumbling to keep the shirt pressed against his bloody chest. He limped northeast.
He had till dawn to steal a woman away from his brother and take her to a wolf.
Chapter Seventeen
Scarlett stared at the house. It had taken less than an hour of gentle riding to reach it. Micah reined his horse in next to her, his grin unabashed. “Thought you were further away, didn’t you?”
“Leave her alone.” Sam instructed sidling up on her left.
“But I rode for hours, how could I have been this close?” Scarlett twisted on Dawn’s bare back and looked back the way they’d come. The gentle swell of the hills seemed to go on forever, but they dropped down to a rockier basin, twisting and turning until they became a creek bed, a creek bed that fed into the stream, which in turn filled the ponds.
Not more than a hundred feet away was the bathing pond, shielded by its grove of trees.
She’d ridden in a damn circle. Frustration boiled in her belly and the air around her sizzled.
“Hey,” Sam’s heavy, warm hand came down on her knee, jerking her attention to him. “You don’t know the land and Micah told you to head northeast. The natural path was to follow the streams and they meander.”
The comforting words assuaged her wounded pride and loosened the hard knot of tension in her chest. A blush stole over her face, it was the second time today she’d let her temper get the better of her. Sam squeezed her leg once with a small smile of understanding.
“Sorry about that Miss Scarlett.” But Micah’s grin was unrepentant. “You needed to get away, but you didn’t need to get that far. It’s safer for you here at the ranch.”
“So you both keep saying.” The great house loomed ahead, the setting sun painting the western sky in rich hues of amber and gold. She yearned to turn the mare around, to ride out. The air was rich with the scent of rain, the grass damp and the land refreshed with the banishment of the arid heat.
She would have to sleep and hope Buck found her dreams again. She would let him know where she was and that she was safe, beg him to keep her brothers away from the Kanes until she could escape. It wasn’t much of a plan, but with both Sam and Micah hovering so close, bolting wasn’t an option.
Not unless she wanted to hurt them.
Scarlett sighed, her shoulders slumping. Sam circled around her, nudging his horse between hers and Micah’s. His leg brushed hers and tugged her mind from downcast thoughts. “Scarlett,” his low and soft voice offered comfort and understanding.
But not freedom.
“I know. Trust you. Trust your father. Trust the law.” She’d repeated the litany in her mind, but it was hard to put much faith in all three. Not when she knew her brothers. They were not going to leave her here.
She had a nagging sense that they were close. She half-expected them to ride up to meet her. But despite the settling in movements down at the barn and the occasional drift of laughter from the cabins, there was no sign of them.
“Scarlett,” Sam stretched, covering her hand on Dawn’s mane and squeezing it. He’d taken every opportunity to touch her. From offering her a fresh shirt to replace her damp one to giving her a leg up onto Dawn’s back. Both brothers had offered her their saddles and she’d turned them down, refusing even to ride behind them.
She’d left the ranch, or at least for her ride, bareback and that’s how she intended to return.
“It’s going to be all right.”
Pulling her hands away, she gave Dawn a gentle kick. The mare responded with a loping trot towards the barn. The last thing she needed was to crave more of Sam than she already did. Her emotions rioted after Micah’s arrival. Sam’s kisses were like whiskey, fogging her mind and her common sense, leaving her desperate. He wanted her, she could feel it in the hardness that had jutted against her, but he’d still pushed her away.
They left her alone at the barn after she refused their assistance. She knew how to curry comb and clean up the mare after the ride. She said nothing when Micah added hay and feed to the stall, checking each of Dawn’s feet for stones. She lingered over caring for the horse until Micah and Sam both loomed outside the stall door.
They weren’t taking any chances.
Exhaustion dragged every step back to the main house. Twice she stumbled in the dark and twice Sam reached a hand out to steady her, only to withdraw it when she flinched.
“Evening.”
They were walking up the three steps to the veranda when Sam’s youngest brother appeared. She recognized him from the night in town. Hatless, his unkempt hair looked freshly washed, but in desperate need of a comb.
“Hey Kid,” Micah called. “When did you get back?”
“A couple of hours ago.”
Scarlett stared at the young man, even the rapidly gathering shadows of night there was something different about him. A guarde
d wariness tinged with relief. His gaze rested on her, not his brothers and Scarlett tried to muster up a smile.
But she wasn’t happy about returning to the Kane ranch. Not with night sweeping the land and the certainty that her brothers were close.
She resisted the urge to study the darkness, half-expecting Cody to bound up to her, to hear Jimmy’s sharp whistle and Noah’s teasing. Buck would say nothing, not after the dream. Heat seeped up into her face. He wouldn’t say anything, but he would know and she would see that knowledge in his eyes.
“There are cold sandwiches laid out in the dining room.”
“Oh?” Suspicion deepened Micah’s voice. “We’ve missed supper and we’re certainly not dressed for it.”
Kid shrugged. “Pa took Miss Annabeth and Lena to town to call on Cobb. Miss Annabeth left the food out when Pa was hitching the wagon.”
Scarlett glanced up at Kid to find his gaze on her again. The quiet intensity of the stare was unnerving.
“You should eat, Miss Scarlett.”
Despite the growling protest of her stomach, she demurred and shook her head. “I’d rather just go up to bed if you gentlemen don’t mind.” And if they did, she found that she didn’t care. She avoided looking at Sam and swept past Kid when he opened the door for her.
“What did you do to her Sam?” Micah’s voice demanded in furious whisper as she reached the stairs.
“Stay out of it, Micah.” Sam’s voice edged closer and Scarlett rushed the steps. He was following her.
“Hey!” Micah called and a series of thumps paused Scarlett’s ascent. She glanced down to see Sam twisting Micah under his arm and all but throwing his brother out the door. The two wrestled, flesh-slapping flesh as Micah delivered a blow to Sam’s midsection that his older brother returned with gusto.
Kid sidled out of the way as the pair tumbled back outside. He glanced up at her, meeting her gaze full on. “They’ll be fine, Miss Scarlett. Would you like me to bring any food up?”
She shook her head slowly. Something in Kid’s voice clanged an alarm in her mind. He moved stiffly and when Micah plunged back in the door only to be dragged back out again, he was very careful to stay out of reach.
Ignoring the horseplay, she focused on the younger brother. He’d been quick of smile and charm in town, easier, sweeter. The easiness was missing.
“Are you all right?”
Kid limped to the foot of the stairs. He glanced once at the open doorway, but laughter punctuated the shouts and sounds of fists landing. “I’m fine, Miss Scarlett. But we’ll need to be up early to head off the wolves.”
Wolves.
Cody.
Scarlett shot a fast glance at the door and descended three steps. “Is he all right?”
The younger man nodded slowly, angling to watch the door, but throwing his whispered words over his shoulder. “I told him I would bring you at dawn. I’ll wake you early, so you should sleep.”
“Sam will be angry.” Relief swamped her reluctance. Cody was close.
“I’ll take care of my brother. I made a promise, Miss Scarlett. Now go on, get some sleep.”
Another shout this time breaking into hard male laughter drifted in the door. Kid jerked his chin to the stairs.
“Good night, Miss Scarlett.”
“Good night.”
In her borrowed room, Scarlett leaned back against the closed door. Her heart galloping, she gulped in air. Tears pricked her eyes. Hard on the sense of relief came regret. Regret that she wouldn’t see Sam again. Not Sam, not his brothers or his father. Not the sweet Miss Annabeth or the kind Lena.
Not Sam.
She pressed two fingers to her lips to stifle the soft sob trying to escape. A hollow ache circled her pounding heart. Her boots dragged as she walked over to the mirror, it took a half thought to light the candles sitting in the hardened pools of wax.
She studied herself in the mirror. She barely recognized the woman looking back at her. Her skin was pink from the sun, deepening the freckles over her nose. Her lips were swollen, softer and fuller and she saw the sadness in her eyes.
Sadness nibbled its way through her soul, leaving behind only confusion. She wanted to go home, but she didn’t want to leave.
Masculine laughter drifted up from downstairs. Scarlett looked away from the mirror. Cody was waiting for her.
Sam was downstairs.
Heavy steps carried her to the bed. She found the brush where she’d left it the morning alongside the matching comb. The borrowed items were made of ivory. Lena told her that Miss Molly had carried them all the way from Virginia.
Miss Molly.
Sam’s mother.
A remarkable woman, whose presence permeated every part of the house—they followed her rules, they kept to her schedule and they honored her with such reverence when they spoke of her. Scarlett loved her room, the deep femininity of it, the simplicity of the rich blues and curving furniture.
She would have liked to have known Miss Molly.
But she would have to say goodbye, even to the ghost of the woman who so greatly influenced her family despite her death.
With heavy hands, she pulled her hair free and began to brush it. Tears burned in her eyes at every yank through the knots.
She wished she could say goodbye properly, say thank you. But she didn’t dare. Sam made it clear in the cave. He wouldn’t let her go.
Tears spilled over onto her cheeks. She brushed her hair, furious at herself. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. She’d run this morning, intending to find her brothers, to go home. To be safe.
To protect the Kanes.
Kid was offering surcease and escape.
But the tears continued to fall long after she’d smoothed the last of the knots, changed her clothes and washed up using the tepid water in the washing bowl. She was careful to hang up the borrowed washcloth and dressed in borrowed britches and top. She tried to choose the most frayed, the most worn.
If she could, she would send them back.
Perched on the edge of the bed, fat, heavy tears continued to roll down her face. The ache in her chest was matched only by the stinging ache of her bottom. Sam had been so angry when he found her at the cave.
Her cheeks warmed with humiliation as she recalled the way he’d lunged at her, swung her up and paddled her rear. But he’d tempered that with such utter kindness, listening to her story, urging her to share her troubles.
Not once had he looked at her as though she were a freak.
Scarlett stretched out on top of the covers and curled over on her side. The pillows smelled of lavender and sage. The sweet feminine scent just provoked more tears. There’d been no anger or rejection in his gaze, no recrimination for her abilities.
Instead, she’d seen only fascination and awe and an emotion she hadn’t been able to label until he’d taken her in his arms.
Her lips tingled at the memory of the heated kisses, the way his hard body pressed into hers, the weight of his fingers as they’d cradled her bottom.
Desire.
She’d never understood it, never truly grasped what it meant to be kissed by a man, to be held and to be treasured. She rubbed her legs together, squeezing. The unfulfilled ache that lingered long after the kisses, rekindling every time Sam touched her. Even the most innocent of caresses as he helped her mount to when he’d squeezed her hands.
Her shoulders shook and she pressed her fist into her mouth to stifle the sobs.
It seemed hours later when the door opened. Scarlett closed her eyes, feigning sleep. Quiet steps approached the bed and it dipped as a larger weight sat on the edge. A gentle hand feathered the hair back from her face, but she held herself still. Sam’s scent filled her nostrils as gentle fingers stroked over her damp cheek.
He swore softly, the sound plunging the ball of misery deeper into her heart.
“Aww Minx, we’ll figure this out.” The sympathy in his words stabbed
her. She shifted, burrowing her face into the pillows and away from the gentle ease of his touch. He went still and she took a long, deep breath and pushed it out, certain he would hear the hammering of her heart.
He sat there so long, petting her hair, she worried he wasn’t planning to leave. One guttered candle flared to life across the room, the light of it bright against her closed eyelids.
Sam’s soft laugh teased her. “Even asleep you’ve a bit of a temper.” The heat of him pressed around her. His breath feathered over her cheek, but he left the gentlest of kisses on her cheek. “Sleep well, Minx. We’ll talk in the morning.”
One last stroke of his hand on her hair and then he was gone. She held her breath until the door closed behind him. Tears wavered her vision as she opened her eyes. She looked across the room to the candle and snuffed the flame.
She touched two fingers to her cheek, savoring the fleeting touch.
“Goodbye Sam,” she whispered into the darkness.
Scarlett was sitting in the center of the bed when her door peeked open having long since abandoned the pretense of sleep. Not even Quanto’s meditation exercises could soothe her bruised heart. Her eyes were swollen and puffy, but dry when Kid stuck his head in the door.
“Carry your boots.” He murmured the words, so soft, she had to strain to hear them. She slid off the bed, gathering her boots and the bundle of her dirty clothes and tiptoed after him. She kept her gaze ahead, refusing to look down the hall to the line of doors. She didn’t know where Sam slept.
She didn’t want to know.
Kid was quiet as he guided her out of the house. On the porch, he motioned for her to pull on her boots. Together, they set off at an angle from the house, Kid put a hand on her elbow. A sliver of the moon was visible, but offered little in the way of light. A blanket of stars twinkled overhead, but the shadows on the earth were thick, crowding together.
They were nearly to the bathing pond when she heard the gentle nicker of the horses. Dawn waited alongside another mare. Both were saddled and Kid guided her around to them, stirruping his hands together so she could mount.
