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Authors: Emma Wildes

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Erotica, #Historical, #General, #Romance/Western

Riding West (11 page)

BOOK: Riding West
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“Is it?” Rose, dressed in demure dove gray, looked at her curiously. “The way Ma described it…well, it didn‘t sound so appealing.” She added somewhat shyly, “But I do like it when he kisses me.”

“Just wait until he actually takes you to bed.” She and Rose had always been very close, and though she wouldn‘t talk about something so personal with anyone else, it seemed natural to discuss it with her sister. Celia felt an inner, secret shiver of memory. “It is indescribable. I had no idea it would be so wonderful.”

Rose looked dubious, but intrigued. “It sounds…messy.”

She couldn‘t help it, recalling the stickiness of her thighs that morning, and the absolute chaos of the bed, she laughed out loud. “It is, I‘m afraid. But you won‘t mind a bit.”


You
don‘t, that‘s obvious.”

“How is it obvious?”

“You are glowing, Celia.”

Was she? Well, she didn‘t doubt that. “I‘m happy.”

“I take it you are. Parker looks a little on the happy side himself, even if he did seem a mite tired.” Rose‘s smile faded. “But let me tell you who isn‘t happy.”

It wasn‘t hard to guess. Celia frowned and said quietly, “John.”

Her sister nodded. “I have no idea what‘s wrong, and it isn‘t just this rustling problem, Celia. He‘s restless and rides out often, sometimes gone the whole night. I don‘t know exactly how to describe it—”

“You don‘t have to, I‘ve sensed it too. But you know John, he isn‘t likely to talk about it.”

It was true, their middle brother was the most private of all of them. Celia added slowly, “I think maybe that‘s why he‘s so focused on catching whoever is stealing our stock. He wants to forget something else.”

Her blond hair shining in the sun, Rose nodded. “That makes sense, I guess.”

“A woman?”

“He isn‘t courting anyone that I know of.” Her sister shrugged.

That in itself was curious when she thought about it, Celia realized. He was good-looking, steadier than most of the wild young men she knew, and yet he didn‘t pursue every available female in sight like other cowboys. Jared and Josh were a little legendary for their interest in the opposite sex and John used to be the same way, but over the past couple of years, he had changed.

“I‘m worried about him,” Celia confessed uneasily. “He‘s edgy and has been for some time.”

“That‘s my feeling too,” Rose agreed somberly.

The corrals were nearly deserted, but as they strolled up to look at the new colts born the night before, two men came into view. One was mounted, his horse poised on a small rise in the distance where there was a clear view of both ranch itself and a good deal of the valley. He appeared to be just sitting there, but every once in a while he‘d lift something to his eyes and scan the horizon. The other was a young cowboy, dressed for the range in chaps and boots, who leaned against the rails of the main corral. Celia didn‘t know him personally, but she smiled automatically. She couldn‘t help but wonder why he seemed to simply be loitering about when everyone else was out working, either on repairing the fences or trying to round up lost stock.

“Ma‘am, miss.” He tipped his hat and smiled, acting nonchalant, but there was a watchful expression on his lean, sunburned face. He was also more heavily armed than an average cowboy, even carrying a rifle for no apparent reason on a pleasant late summer morning. From his vantage point, he would have the drop on anyone riding up the main drive to the house.

It wasn‘t too hard to figure out, Celia mused with some irritation, that Parker really was having the ranch guarded.

No, he was having
her
guarded, and it made her feel like a bird with clipped wings.

Chapter Eight

The bastard was back.

John heard the news first from his mother, who mentioned it in passing, not having the slightest notion of his feelings for Alice.

Apparently Harold Reed had ridden into town two days before, half-drunk as usual, and the general consensus seemed to be pity for his poor wife.

He really couldn‘t bear to think about it and now was not the time anyway.

The night was almost pitch, with low clouds that obscured the moon and a heavy wind picking up from the north. They were in for some weather, he could smell it in the air as he crouched behind a small group of trees, most of them dead, and listened to the unmistakable sound of hoof beats grow and swell in the darkness.

Maybe this hadn‘t been such a long shot gamble after all.

He and Parker had ridden over what felt like half of Colorado earlier that day, and both had come to the conclusion that if they wanted to steal cattle and easily herd them south, this would be the place to do it.

Parker hadn‘t agreed it was a good idea to sit in the dark and wait to see if it happened, most probably because he wanted to get back to Celia. John, on the other hand, didn‘t have a beautiful woman who waited for him at home in a warm bed with open arms.

He had nothing but a hopeless passion for another man‘s wife, a child he couldn‘t know or acknowledge, and a helpless fury that translated to restless nights and a sick feeling churning in his gut.

Was he with her now?

John shook it off, narrowing his eyes against the shadows
.
He was one man against what was undoubtedly an outfit of dishonest cowpunchers who didn‘t mind taking the risk of hanging for money.

It sounded like perfectly good odds to him and suited his mood.

Carefully, he lifted his rifle and waited until he could see the shadowy forms loom up, a single-file line that followed the fence. One, two, three…five altogether, that wasn‘t so bad. With the advantage of surprise, he could handle five of them, but his real purpose was to keep one of them alive. Stealthily, he followed on foot, staying a good distance back. He had one of his usually accurate hunches about where they were headed and it wasn‘t far.

Sure enough, in less than half a mile, he could hear their voices, and proceeded slowly, edging along the fence line. The occasional low of a cow came from the small herd grazing still in the inadequate light, their forms indistinct.

There was not much cover, and it was a disadvantage, but he really wanted to catch them in the act. Not just trespassing, which they certainly were, but actually showing their dishonest intentions. When he did, well, they were going to get a little warning on how slinking midnight thieves were welcomed on the West ranch. He wasn‘t a patch on Jared on the draw, but he was one hell of a good shot with a rifle.

Suddenly the clouds tore open for a moment, giving him a clear glimpse of exactly what they were doing. Two were still on their horses, but the other three were hard at work on the fence. He could hear the snap of the wire and felt a cold fury that made his hands rock steady as he aimed his weapon. He narrowed in on the man closest, not more than a hundred yards away. The shot rang out, startling in the quiet of night, and there was a small cry as his target staggered backwards, tripped over one of his companions who was cutting the bottom wire, and fell.

Chaos broke out as the startled thieves scrambled for horses and guns, the two mounted men whirling their mounts, trying to find him in the dark. Crouched next to a thick fence post where he was probably hard to spot, John smiled grimly and fired again. One of the mounted men pitched forward and his horse cantered off, the slumped figure sliding off its back.

Two.

With the second shot, the men were able to figure out the direction of their danger. However, they had no more cover than he did, and were vulnerable because a man on a horse was a sight more visible than one on the ground. Wisely, all three seemed to decide it was better to cut and run than try a gunfight in the darkness. He got off two more shots that as far as he could tell didn‘t find their mark, before they vanished off in a flurry of pounding hooves in the opposite direction.

“Fucking bastards,” he muttered in satisfaction, standing up. Still cautious, gun in hand, he walked over to the closest rustler, the man‘s prone form unmoving. In the dark, it had been a little tricky to know exactly where he‘d hit him, but he hadn‘t aimed to kill, just to wound. Unfortunately, when he nudged the body over with his booted foot, he saw the sightless stare with resignation. The rustler had hard features with a grizzled dark beard and John did not recognize him.

It was a different story with the second man. Not only was he still breathing, he was conscious, a low moan echoing out when John knelt next to him and pulled open his vest. It looked like the bullet had caught him low in the shoulder. It was hard to see properly, but from the liquid gurgle in his labored breathing, it had nicked a lung.

“Goner?” The wounded man asked with effort, his face waxy in the gloom. He was young and fair-haired, with the reddish complexion of a range hand.

“I‘d guess so,” John confirmed with a curt nod, feeling a pang, because even if he had meted out justice in his mind, it was a shame someone so young had gone wrong. “You fell in with bad company, cowboy.”

“It feels like…like a hoss is sitting on my chest. Gawd Almighty, I told ‘em we should lay…low…for a while after the past few weeks. Ranchers were going to get riled after such…big raids.”

“Told who?” John asked urgently, seeing the sudden flutter of the man‘s lids. “Look, it‘s pretty low down, stealing another man‘s cattle, trespassing on his property. Make it up to me by telling me who you work for. You haven‘t much to lose at this point.”

“Nothing…to gain either, mister.” The young man gave a ghastly smile. “Who are you—West?”

“No, John Evans. I‘m his brother-in-law, but you haven‘t exactly been ignoring our stock, either. Is Colter behind you?”

A small bubble of frothy blood stained the man‘s lips. He stared upward, and then blinked and seemed to refocus. “Aw…what the hell. I hate Colter‘s guts anyway, but the money was good…yeah, I‘ll tell you if you give me your word you won‘t leave me until I‘m gone. I don‘t fancy dyin‘ all alone. Don‘t ask me what the difference is.”

“I‘ll stay. You have my word on it.” John felt another shimmer of regret.

“Okay, it‘s this way… Colter hired the band in Abilene months ago. Half of us rustle the cattle, the other half drives it east. Our cut is…” A coughing fit made more blood bubble forth, flowing over his chin, but he went on. “Our cut is big, we couldn‘t…turn it down…man. Easy money, he promised. Hole up in the mountains, ride down for a raid now and then… Gawd, I‘m so cold.”

“How many of you?” Still kneeling at his side, John could see the young cowboy was fading fast.

“Must be…twenty. Most of us are wanted somewhere or other. We stay out of town.” A low gasp whistled out. “Out of sight…he has more men at his ranch. His regular hands are as crooked as we are.”

Shit
.

“Can any of his men be bought?”

The boy nodded weakly. “Hell yes, we can all be bought. You think any of us have any loyalty to a man the likes of Rance Colter? Nah…it‘s…about the money.”

Well, that was interesting information. “Give me a name. Anybody hate Colter and the deal he‘s giving us as much as you do?”

“A couple…let me think…leave a note at the saloon for Uvalde. He‘s decent down deep…we were pards. He‘s Texan…but he likes redeye a might too much. Killed a man in a fight he doesn‘t even remember and now he has a price on his head.”

“Will do.”

“One more thing…Colter‘s plain loco to ruin…West. It‘s personal…something about a girl. Offered a bonus to anyone who can kill him. I think…thet‘s all…I know.”

“Much obliged.” John asked quietly, “What‘s your name, cowboy?”

Silence.

The wind whispered past, low and eerie, but the sound of labored breathing had ceased. Stiffly, John got to his feet and felt more than a little weary, though he at least had confirmation of his suspicions.

Goddamned Colter. That greedy bastard had killed this boy as certain as if he had pulled the trigger himself.

———

Parker was having a fantastic dream. In it something warm and soft and infinitely smooth rested in his hand, the luscious weight stirring a light sigh of male appreciation from his chest. Silken strands of tangled hair tickled his nose, and there was a tantalizing fragrance to it, familiar and arousing. What‘s more, he could feel the warmth of a satiny bare bottom nestled perfectly against his groin…but unfortunately a sharp staccato of insistent sound rang in his ears and ruined the whole thing.

He opened his eyes and in that exact moment, Celia mumbled sleepily, “I think someone is knocking.”

The weight in his hand was her all too-enticing breast, the curve of her body fitted closely to his, and considering he had a good start on a sizeable erection, the interruption was not particularly welcome. Hell, it was still dark outside.

“I‘m coming,” he grumbled, reluctantly rolled away from his lovely wife, and slid out of bed to reach for his pants. Jerking them on, he stalked to the door and yanked it open.

To his surprise, John stood there outside, looking gaunt and strained. Parker swept his gaze over haggard features, a bloodstained shirt, and registered the tense set of his brother-in-law‘s shoulders.

“Sorry,” John said tersely. “Your father heard me ride up and let me in. He‘s making coffee.”

That was enough. “Go to the kitchen and wait for me,” Parker said with a small nod of acknowledgement, his voice low. “I‘ll be right there.”

He found a clean shirt, ran his fingers through his hair, and smiled reassuringly as his bride sat up in a flurry of gleaming pale hair and ivory skin, an alarmed expression on her face. “Who was that?”

“Go back to sleep,” he suggested evasively.

“What‘s so important so early?”

“I‘ll let you know when I find out, sweetheart.”

“Maybe I should—”

“No, you shouldn‘t,” he said firmly, knowing that if she saw how her brother looked at the moment, she would be more than just a little alarmed. “Get some rest, because with any luck, I‘ll wear you out later.”

“Parker—”

“Stay in bed.” He said it curtly, with as much authority as he could summon, and her mouth parted in surprise at his vehemence.

After a moment, she sank back down and gave him the utterly female seductive smile that made him have those arousing dreams in the first place. The blanket had fallen down around her slim waist, exposing the luscious curves of her bare breasts. Her nipples were high and pointed. “All right, if you promise to come back soon. I was half asleep, but it seems to me we were just about to start something interesting.”

BOOK: Riding West
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