Sinfully Supernatural

by Multiple

  “You can ask him if you want, too. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind showing you.”

  “No.” It was a fast, firm answer.

  Amused, Scarlett wrinkled her nose at him. “Chicken.”

  “And proud of it.” Micah nodded gamely. “Now, we were talking about Sam.”

  She didn’t mind the subject change. “You said he fancied me.”

  “And he does. He’s courting you. Bringing you gifts. Spending time with you and then giving you your space.”

  Scarlett frowned. Sam had been looking after her, telling her stories, bringing her fresh berries, catching fish and even helping her with her chores when it was time to break camp.

  “You’ve never been courted before, have you?” Micah’s soft question intruded on her musings.

  She shook her head mutely.

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “What am I supposed to do?” A thrill of joy twined with confusion to jostle her insides. Her heart was a loud thud-boom and she worried she was going to be a little sick.

  “You’re killing me, Scarlett.” Micah sighed, shifting his foot up to the rail and resting his wrists on his knee. The land was relatively flat in front of them as the wagon continued its bouncing trawl.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Nah,” he laughed. “Don’t be sorry. I just wouldn’t mind setting my hat into the ring, but I’m not too blind to see where the sun is shining.”

  Scarlett frowned again. “Does that mean you like me too?”

  “Oh, I like you just fine, and if it were anyone but Sam, I’d definitely give you courting lessons personally, but I won’t step on my brother’s toes too much. You just do us both a favor and don’t tell him that.”

  “Your secret is safe with me.” Scarlett grinned.

  “Good. I always wondered what it would be like to have a sister.”

  “No offense, but I don’t think I need any more brothers.”

  He laughed, which was her intention and tapped a finger to her nose. “Too bad for that. Because Sam comes with three more and an extra Pa to boot.”

  Her cheeks ached from smiling, but she couldn’t help herself. “Micah, what should I do?”

  “That depends whether you want him to keep courting you.”

  Scarlett nibbled her lower lip, the gentle pain of her teeth scraping across her lip a reminder of the cave. The way his stubble had scraped her cheeks and mouth—how his kisses had tasted and the hard heat of his hands on her bottom. Sweat beaded along her brow and her shirt clung tackily to her back.

  The kisses had been wonderful. She’d felt beautiful and wanted and a host of other emotions she couldn’t label. But he’d put her away from him, refused to go further.

  The rejection had stung, but later, at the house, when he’d come into her room while she was sleeping.

  The utter gentleness as he’d stroked her cheek had broken her heart. She’d hated leaving the Flying K. She hated leaving Sam more.

  “Yes.” It seemed forever since Micah had asked her the question, but her heart jumped at the idea. “Yes, I want him to keep courting me.”

  “Then you show him you like it.”

  “How? What are the rules?”

  Micah laughed. “Well, it is kind of a game, I suppose. You need to do something nice for him. Kind of like patting the dog when it does the trick you asked it to do.”

  “Like make him food?”

  Micah nodded. “Food is good. Maybe mend a shirt. Take care of his horse. You know, show him you want to do nice things for him, too.”

  “He never lets me finish the horses even when it’s my chore.”

  “Then stay and keep him company, help him. Smile. It honestly doesn’t take much, Scarlett. We’re hardheaded, not stupid. When we like a pretty lady, it’s easy to tell when she likes us back.”

  She thought back to their swims, how he would herd her away from the horseplay. Was it just to shield her from the splashes or to have her alone? A new smile tugged at her lips, if they got to go swimming tonight, maybe she would play with Sam.

  “Feel better?” Micah teased.

  “Much.”

  “Good. And remember, if it doesn’t work out. I’m still available.”

  She was still laughing when the bullet exploded the wood on the corner of the wagon seat.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Scarlett gaped at the flying wood, the explosive sound echoing in her ears. Micah’s fingers bit into her arm as a second bullet hit the seat behind her and jerked her over him until she was dangling off the side of the wagon. The horses snorted and screamed, but Micah held onto her even as he turned the horses hard left and sent the wagon bouncing over the uneven ground and alongside a hill.

  “Down.” Micah dropped her and Scarlett scampered to the wheel, crouching as Micah fell in behind her. She twisted to catch sight of the wagons, they were all turning, facing the horses away from the bullets except for those on horseback.

  Buck and Kid dropped their reins as one, rifles lifting to return fire.

  “Where are they?” Scarlett peeked a look around the wagon’s edge, but drew back as three bullets thundered in quick succession, two slamming home into the seat and shattering the edge until all that remained was smoking wood.

  “Dammit, Scarlett. They’re shooting at you.” Micah jerked her back to him, flattening himself against the wagon, with Scarlett tucked in front of him. Kid and Buck rounded the wagons, ducking low on the horses as Ike, Rudy and Noah returned fire.

  “Ten of them,” Buck shouted. He pulled a scattergun from the saddle holster and tossed it down to Scarlett. “Remember, they get close, you go for the body. Stomach or chest. They’ll go down.”

  Her jaw set, she barely had time to nod before Buck rode out of the faint safety offered by the wagons. Gunfire chased him as he rode over the hill to the west. The ambushers were on the west, and she knew her brother would circle them. Kid cut away in the opposite direction.

  “Stay back here.” Micah ordered, dropping down to crawl under the wagon. The smell of sulfur and gunpowder thickened the air like a sick fog. Fear and worry spread like a prairie fire though her blood. The horses were throwing their heads up, only long hours of training and the locked wagon wheels were keeping them in place.

  A familiar whinnying scream pulled her head around. Men were shouting, guns were barking and Dawn, tied to the back of the wagon, reared up. Her front legs flailed at the air and the muscles in her neck convulsed as she pulled the tether free.

  Then, the unthinkable happened. A bullet struck the horse’s rump and her back legs crashed as her body toppled over. Scarlett was already lurching for her as the mare fought to find her footing, thick blood streaming down her leg to drip off her fetlock.

  “Scarlett!” Micah was yelling, but she didn’t slow until she caught the dangling rope and pulled, giving the horse enough counter balance to make it back to her feet. A second and third bullet hit the dirt at Scarlett’s feet, a fourth whizzing past her head so close, she felt the sting of its passage.

  Fury boiled inside of her. Rage that they’d shoot the horse. Dawn limped, her hindquarters dragging as Scarlett tried to guide her out of the line of fire. When another bullet scraped across the sweet mare’s back, cutting deep. She collapsed again, sides heaving. Roaring filled Scarlett’s ears, the hot, dry air around her shimmered swallowing the tears leaking out of her eyes.

  She let go of Dawn’s tether and turned to the hills with their death dealing guns and the men who wielded them. Fire sparked at her finger tips and a rush of heat pushed away from her, racing across the plain, sizzling and scalding the rocks until they leapt off the ground, flaming projectiles.

  The first man’s scream fed the fire like oxygen and blue flames burst out of his flesh. Scarlett saw the flaming torch that had been a man writhe upwards, his gun flying away from his hands as he frantically tried to beat out the flames.

  No. Her mouth twisted,
her eyes burned. Greedy licks of fire began consuming her boots as she strode over the searing ground, blackened ash appearing with every step. Bullets whizzed around her and then a second man’s scream joined the first and a third as the entire hill to the west overlooking the wagons burned.

  She gagged on the stench of burning flesh, but the fire had her now and she embraced it, wrapped it around her and sent it to hunt. A horse raced up to her, booted feet slamming the ground as the rider dropped off of it. Jimmy, her mind acknowledged, turning the flames away from him as they leeched out hungrily. Twin guns flashed in his hands.

  “Put it out!” He called, and though he was next to her, his voice barely pushed past the roaring in her ears. “Cody’s up there, Scar. Put it out!”

  Cody.

  Jimmy swore, pivoting and firing his gun. Scarlett didn’t bother to look for what he was shooting at. Jimmy never missed. The sickening thud of a bullet digging into flesh satisfied the fire. She pulled back on it, tamping it down, but freed from its jesses, it fought her. Tears scalded her cheeks as she jostled for control.

  “Dammit, Scar. Pull it back.” Jimmy’s impatience slapped at her and she saw the twisted look of regret as he pulled back his fist. Yes, hit her. Knock her out. It was the only way.

  But before Jimmy’s fist could land, another figure filled her vision, strong, familiar hands picking her up. Sam’s mouth slanted over hers and the heat inside of her exploded and recoiled. Sam’s arms tightened around her, even as she tried to pull away.

  She would burn him.

  No.

  Her lungs swelled, screaming in protest. Her mouth opened under Sam’s, the twisted, melted slag of the gun fell from her hand. The flames on the hills coughed once, twice and then extinguished. He broke the kiss, striding back to the wagon and behind it. Around them, gunfire slowed, and then a man shrieked in dying agony.

  Scarlett clung to Sam, thick clouds of black and gray smoke roiling in the air around them, carrying the stink of burnt grass, scorched earth and scalded flesh.

  “Shh,” Sam pressed her cheek to his chest, his body angled to free his right hand. His gun rested in his palm, his posture stiff and watchful. “I just saw Cody race over the ridge. You didn’t burn him.”

  She sagged, burying her face into his shirt. He smelled of sun, cedar and horse. Living, not dead. Alive, not scorched.

  “Dawn,” she whispered, voice catching on a dry sob.

  “She’s hurt. But we’ll see to her, shh.” The coolness of his hand was a balm to her overheated flesh. He rubbed her bare back in slow, easy circles, until her panting eased. Awareness prickled through her, the roaring in her ears abating. Her shirt was in tatters. Her toes wiggled in the cracked, remnants of blackened, cooked leather boots and her britches were equally abused, baring one full leg and just laying against the second.

  “They’re running.” Micah announced as he slid over to them.

  “Give me your shirt.” Sam ordered.

  “Holy cow.”

  “And stop staring at her.” The terseness in Sam’s voice hurried Micah along. He quickly shed his shirt and passed it over. “Turn around.”

  Scarlett lifted her head, uncertain of who he was talking to, but Micah had his back to her and Sam tucked his gun back into his holster before helping to pull the shirt around the tatters of her clothes.

  “You okay?” He asked, gentleness softening the lines around his eyes, but his mouth was thinned and his lips bloodless. Anger radiated through him. Scarlett swallowed and nodded.

  “Dawn…” The horse’s screams had lessened to wheezing huffs of breath.

  “I know. We’ll take care of her. I promise.” Sam’s fingers chucked under her chin, urging her gaze back up to him. “You have it now? You got it back under control?”

  She nodded, mutely. She’d never let the fire out like that before, not where it could hunt and hurt, where the flames could feed on flesh instead of water or dead earth.

  “Okay, good.” Sam smiled a little. “Hunker down here, stay put. I’ll check your horse.” He helped her sit down until her back was framed against the great spokes of the wheel. His fingers were utterly gentle as he brushed away the tears from her cheeks.

  “Cold?” The question seemed odd until she realized she was trembling. The sun-warmed air slid over her skin like ice. She nodded jerkily, not quite trusting herself to speak through the chatter of teeth.

  He turned to his brother, but Micah was already there, squatting down with a blanket from the back of the wagon seat. It boasted two small smoking holes, but Scarlett ignored them as he and Sam tucked the blanket around her.

  “How the hell is she cold after that?” Micah asked, his face pinched with concern.

  “Don’t know. Don’t care. We need to keep her warm for right now. Go check on the mare.” Sam knelt next to her, stroking the hair away from her face. “Micah will take care of Dawn. He’s great with horses. I have to check on your brothers and find Kid. Then see if we have any survivors. You going to be okay for a few minutes, sweetheart?”

  She nodded jerkily again, fat, heavy tears welling up in her eyes. She didn’t want him to go.

  “I’ll be right back. I promise.” He pressed a hard kiss to her lips and then a gentler, sweeter one to her forehead. She pushed a hand out from the blanket to reach for him, but he was already gone. His voice was hurried, hot with concern.

  To her left, Micah knelt in the dirt next Dawn. The mare’s head was down, laying quiescent. Her chest continued to heave, hard, uneven pants of breath.

  “Is she okay?” She whispered, hating the quaver that trembled amongst the words.

  “I think so. The one on her back is a shallow gash. We’ll have to clean it and bandage it, but her hip. This one’s bad. I’m not sure if they got bone.”

  “Noah.” Scarlett whispered.

  “What?” Micah shoved his hat up, scanning the horizon briefly before glancing to her.

  “Get Noah.” Her teeth were chattering and the blanket was doing little to help the heat dripping out of her. “He can heal.”

  “Well that’s damn useful.” Micah stretched up as Jimmy’s shadow fell over him. “Good timing on getting back.”

  “We weren’t that far when we heard the first shot.” Jimmy landed with a soft thud of boots, he spared a glance for Scarlett. “You okay, Scar?”

  “C-c-cold.” The word stammered against her chattering teeth. Jimmy shed his trail coat and strode over to her, easing her foreword to wrap it around her back. The brief heat pressed against her icy flesh, staving off the shivers. “F-f-find Noah. Dawn n-n-needs him.”

  Jimmy nodded, the long shaggy cut of his brown hair loose against his face. He’d lost his hair tie at some point. “You sure you’re okay?” He studied her through hazel eyes, the softness of his gloves brushing her cheeks.

  Despite her jerky nod, Jimmy looked unconvinced. “Noah!” He bellowed, his gaze hard and suspicious. Scarlett closed her eyes, exhaustion rolled over her swifter than a storm in spring. She burrowed into the shirt, jacket and blanket, but even Jimmy’s borrowed heat in the jacket was fleeting.

  She blinked, surprised to find Noah hovering in front of her. His dark, baldhead gleamed with sweat in the sunlight. Dirt and a hint of blood marred his cheek. “Noah, help my horse.”

  “I will in just a second, Scar. Want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine.” The words slurred, but anger pricked her spine and helped her open her eyes all the way. “Help Dawn. Please.”

  Noah ignored her, his hands were like ice where they touched her cheek. “She’s burning up.”

  “She did this before.” Sam was suddenly there. “At the Flying K. One moment she was fine and the next she was hit with a fever the likes of which I’d never seen. She was trying to get into the water, I think to let the fire out.”

  Scarlett frowned. The men were talking like she wasn’t there.

  “I don’t think this is
the same thing.” Noah commented, his tone easy and gentle. Noah peeled back the blanket. “Her skin’s pink, and raw. Look at the flesh around her neck and shoulders.” His icy touch slid over her collarbone. Scarlett nearly sighed.

  “It’s the clothes.” Cody was there, pushing past Sam. He was dressed in britches only, the buttons left undone and a sheen of sweat shining on the deep gold of his skin. “She caught her clothes on fire”

  “But she’s done that before.” Jimmy disagreed.

  Scarlett met the concern in Sam’s deep brown eyes with a rueful smile.

  “Yeah,” Cody knelt down and peeled back the charred cotton. “But it takes everything she has to keep the fire from burning her and she was walking right into that firestorm she made. Damn impressive, by the way.” Cody flashed her a quick, proud smile.

  She managed a weak grin. “They shot my horse, Cody.”

  “I know darling, Noah will fix her up.”

  “That I will. Let’s just make sure you’re okay.” They were stripping her out of the blanket, peeling away the jacket and shirt.

  “Hey,” Jimmy gave Sam a shove and nodded to the wagon. “You can wait over there. She doesn’t need an audience.”

  Irritation creased Sam’s face, but one by one, her brothers all glared at him until he and Micah both retreated a few feet away.

  “You didn’t have to be mean to him.” Scarlett whispered, shivering uncontrollably as they pulled away the ragged remains of her shirt, boots and went to work on her britches. But that thought was fleeting, because pain seized her when Noah peeled back the top of her pants.

  “Hell.” Noah breathed. “Get me clean bandages, water and some of that whisky. Now.”

  “What?” Sam was surging back to her, even as Cody tossed the borrowed shirt over her chest and leapt to obey Noah’s demands.

  “She got clipped.” Noah said tersely. “Now back off and let me work.”

  Clipped.

  “They shot me too.”

  “Yes, they did. Now sit still.” The heat dripping out of her increased to a stream, soaking her side. She’d never been shot before. “Help me lay her down. Buck and Kid still out there?”