Deborah Camp (32 page)

“Blackie,” he said, his voice holding a hint of a quaver. “How’d you track me here?”

“Luck, brother. We was riding by and spotted your horse tied up in back.” Blackie grinned, making Cassie think of the skull and crossbones stamped on bottles of rat poison. “I missed you.”

“You missed me?” Rook asked with blatant disbelief.

“Yep.” The shotgun’s barrel swung sideways until it was pointing at Rook’s chest. “But I won’t miss this time, little brother. You’d better give your soul to the Lord right quick, ’cause your ass is mine.”

With Blackie’s threat hanging in the air and the shotgun leveled at Rook, Cassie suddenly realized the depth of her feelings for Rook. For a moment she planned to throw herself in front of Rook and take the bullet Blackie had promised, but Rook’s easy chuckle forestalled her moment of sacrifice.

She gazed at him in startled contemplation, studying his smile and seeing the lie in his eyes. It was an act, she thought. This sudden casual friendliness toward his wicked brother
must
be an act! She had seen the fear in his face, she had felt the quiver in his body when the shotgun had pointed at him. He was bluffing, she told herself, and hoped that Blackie would be fooled by the bluff.

“You sound just like Dubbin,” Rook said, striding forward and shoving aside the gun barrel with a display of bravado that Cassie had to admire. “Does Jewel know you’re around? I guess you know about the bounty hunters crawling all over these parts.”

“I’d heard.” Blackie propped the butt of the shotgun against his thigh and aimed the barrel at the ceiling. “I ain’t talked to Jewel yet. Too risky with all them hired guns roaming around town.” Blackie’s coal black eyes seemed to see Cassie for the first time, and he grinned wickedly as she drew back from him. “You ain’t been suffering much. Right pretty gal you’ve found here, brother.”

Rook glanced back at Cassie. “She’s Jewel’s best friend.”

Blackie’s gaze darted to Rook; his eyes, wide at first, narrowed to slits.

“That’s right,” Rook said in answer to Blackie’s unspoken question. “Cassie Potter is her name and Jewel thinks of her like she thinks of Peggy. Got it?”

“Yeah. One woman I don’t want to cross is Mama Jewel. You know, even Dubbin was scared shitless of her.” He chuckled at the thought, spit on the floor, and laughed when Cassie threw him a murderous glare. “You mad at me for messing up your floor, girlie?” he taunted, then spit on it again. His “boys” shared the joke at Cassie’s expense. Even Rook seemed to be amused.

Blackie nodded toward the olive-skinned woman who sat on Rook’s cot. She wore dangling gold earrings and a red felt hat that had a yellow and black feather stuck in it. The hat’s brim dipped at her forehead and in back, and its crown was creased and dirty. She wore breeches and a man’s shirt. Her belt was a length of rope. Her boots were bright red and with fancy stitching. A six-shooter swung from a holster around her waist, and she caressed its ivory butt as if it were a rabbit’s foot and she was in need of a sudden turn of good luck.

Cassie continued her close examination of the other woman. She had a wide mouth, too big to be described as sensuous or attractive. Her sloe eyes, dark and tilting up at the outside corners, were her most attractive feature, giving her an exotic, wild look. Her hair was all tumbled, curling profusely in a cascade of ebony. She had high cheekbones and the flat, round face of an Indian. But her eyes weren’t Indian. Cassie had never seen slanty eyes like hers, and she had no idea what kind of people they’d come from.

“ ’Course family honor didn’t keep you from poking it into your brother’s woman, did it?” Blackie asked, looking at the woman in the silly hat and then at Rook again.

Cassie stared expectantly at Rook, waiting for him to deny that he’d been with the wild, strange woman.

“You ought to tell her she’s all yours,” Rook said, glancing contemptuously at the woman on his cot. “She jumped on me like I was the only man around.”

Cassie’s heart sank, then climbed into her throat as violence erupted.

“That’s a lie!” the woman screamed, rising up from the cot in a clenched-fisted rage.

She threw herself at Rook, hands up and ready to claw his eyes out. Rook caught her wrists and held her away from him, craning his head back to keep her fingernails inches from his face.

“I’ll kill you, you lying bastard!” she screamed, trying with all her might to break free and make good her claim.

“Annabelle!” Blackie’s shout sounded like the crack of a whip. He pointed the shotgun at the wild woman and jerked his head toward the cot. “Sit down and shut up before I blow you to kingdom come,” Blackie bellowed, and the woman went meekly over to the cot like a whipped dog and huddled against the wall.

Annabelle! Cassie looked at her with renewed interest. This wild, slant-eyed creature was the one Rook had talked about during his fever? She couldn’t believe it! She’d pictured a delicate lady, not a snarling wildcat! Annabelle’s gaze traveled slowly to Cassie, and a feral smile spread over her full lips. Cassie looked away, feeling tainted and sick. She didn’t like the woman. Evil surrounded her like a mist.

“Cassie was just getting ready to rustle up some supper. You boys will join us, won’t you?” Rook asked, drawing a flinty glare from Cassie.

“Sure, we’ll break bread with you,” Blackie said, then looked over his shoulder at the cookstove. “Clear away from there, boys, and let this little filly cook us some vittles.” He grinned, showing yellow teeth. “Go on, little sister. Make yourself useful.”

She briefly entertained the notion of spitting in his face before she decided she’d rather live than be shot dead by Blackie Colton. Dangerous—that was what this man was, and more than a little mad. He was a stick of dynamite waiting for the flare of a match, and Cassie didn’t want to set off the fuse. She went to the stove in silent obedience.

“Hey, Blackie,” Rook said, slapping his brother on the
shoulder in a fraternal way, “I didn’t see your horses when we came up to the house.”

“We hid ’em back in the woods so’s you wouldn’t see you had company and decide to go someplace else.”

“Oh, hell, I wouldn’t do that,” Rook said, grabbing one of the vacant chairs and straddling it. “I know you’re pissed at me for sneaking off, but I knew that Annabelle would fill you full of lies and you’d end up killing me over a woman who sure isn’t worth it.”

Annabelle hissed like a snake. Rook snarled back at her.

“Animals,” Cassie murmured, grabbing up a knife to quarter some rabbits.

“I ain’t so sure what she told me was lies,” Blackie said with drawling contempt. He tapped Rook on the shoulder with the gun barrel. “It takes two, brother. You know what I mean?”

“Look, I admit that I took a tumble with her, but she kept rubbing it against me and …” He slammed a fist into his other palm. “Damn it! There’s just so much a man can take!”

Blackie stared long and hard at Rook. The room was silent except for the crackle and pop of grease in the skillet. After a long while, Blackie spit on the floor again.

“She does act like a bitch in heat sometimes,” Blackie allowed.

“I ain’t taking the blame for this!” Annabelle screamed, leaping off the cot and coming at Blackie.

Cassie looked over her shoulder just in time to see Blackie’s hand sweep forward like a striking cobra. The back of it smacked against the side of Annabelle’s face, sending her stumbling back, howling in pain.

“Shut your trap!” Blackie yelled, standing up and cocking his hand for another attack. “I’m tired of hearing your whining. You’d better sit down and keep quiet or I’ll shut you up for good!”

Cassie trembled and looked at Rook. He caught her frightened gaze and astounded her by winking slowly. Cassie turned back to the stove, unsure of what that wink meant. Was he winking to confirm that he approved of Blackie slapping a woman around—even if the woman was
a piece of trash like Annabelle—or was he trying to console her and ease her fear? She didn’t know. She couldn’t figure it out. She was too scared to think straight.

“Say, brother,” Rook said, catching at the sleeve of Blackie’s red shirt. “You don’t happen to have some firewater in your saddlebags, do you?”

Blackie’s temper died like a match in the wind. He grinned and draped an arm around Rook’s neck, pulling him to his side and ruffling his hair.

“What do you think? When have you known me not to have a jug within reach?”

“I sure could use a swig of whiskey,” Rook said, laughing as he squirmed out of Blackie’s viselike grip.

“Well, let’s go get it!” Blackie motioned for the others, then pointed at the shortest man. “Elmer, you stay here with our cook. Keep an eye on her for me.”

“Okay, boss.”

“Annabelle?” Blackie said, glaring at the woman who was still sniffling pitifully.

“What?” she said between sobs.

“Come here, you pretty heifer. I ain’t mad at you no more.”

Annabelle’s face brightened. She leapt off the cot and threw herself into Blackie’s arms. He laughed and pulled her outside with him. The others, except for Elmer, filed out behind him.

Cassie glanced over her shoulder at her guard. He was sitting at the kitchen table loading his pistols.

Confusion was all that resulted as she tried to sort through the recent events. She was sure that Rook had been frightened when he’d first discovered the visitors, but he’d changed his mood lightning fast—so fast that Cassie hadn’t been able to divine his reasons. Rook had relied on brotherly ties, and it had worked like a charm. Blackie, who’d been hellbent on a killing, had backed off and decided to eat first and shoot later.

But hold on a minute, another voice urged. They’re mighty chummy now, Cassie thought as she peeled potatoes and onions for frying. Rook had seemed afraid at first, but then he seemed kinda glad after a minute or two.

The sound of jocular laughter floated in, and Cassie turned from the stove to look outside. The laughter also drew her guard from the table. He went to the door but stopped on the threshold.

Cassie could see moving shadows, and she knew the men were sitting on the porch. From the sound of their low voices and bursts of laughter, it appeared they were having one hell of a good time. With a hissing sigh, Cassie returned to her cooking. So much for Rook not being one of them, she thought angrily. They was as thick as thieves! Blackie musta just been riled because Rook had tried to run out on him after he’d rolled in the clover with Annabelle. All was now forgiven, Cassie guessed. Rook was back in the fold of black sheep. Right where he belonged.

She finished peeling the last potato. After cutting up all the potatoes and dropping the pieces into the hot fat, Cassie confirmed that her guard still had his back to her. He was no taller than she and had bowlegs. One of the remaining two men who’d come with Blackie was tall and slim, and the other had a big belly and not a hair on his head. Five men in all, counting Rook, and one woman.

Cassie slipped the paring knife into her skirt pocket. Chances were she’d need it later.

After a huge supper and a couple of jugs of cheap liquor, Blackie and the boys were feeling no pain.

Smoking hand-rolled cigarettes and swigging whiskey straight from the jug, Blackie launched into yet another rousing story about one of the many whores he’d bedded. Annabelle, sitting beside him on the cot, stared longingly at Rook, who was sitting on the floor near the door. She wet her lips and looked as if she could eat Rook alive.

Cassie shivered with revulsion, remembering the Bible passages about Sodom. Animals, she thought. No morals, no conscience, no good. She focused her attention on Rook; her disappointment in him was overwhelming. Just when she’d thought there was hope for him, he had to go and spoil it all. To think that she had been on the brink of telling him how much she loved him! It was enough to make a sensible woman vow to never love any man again!

Huddled in a corner near the door, Cassie drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them against her. She wished she could melt into the corner like a shadow. Looking across the room at the door to her bedroom, she shuddered to think about what might happen when the animals decided to go to sleep. Would one of them want to bed her? Cassie felt the heaviness of the knife in her pocket and sought comfort in a whispered prayer.

“What’s wrong with you, son?” Blackie shouted, his words slurring into each other. He pointed a wavering finger at Rook. “You look sick. You sick?”

Cassie glanced over at Rook and had to agree with Blackie. Rook was pale-faced and sweaty. He pressed his lips together and nodded; then looked over at Cassie and rolled his eyes.

“Help me outside. I’m gonna vomit.”

Blackie laughed along with the others as Cassie sprang to her feet and helped Rook to his. He staggered forward, dragging Cassie with him as he draped an arm around her shoulders. They stumbled out the door and off the porch into the inky night. Rook heaved and hacked loudly enough to wake the dead, and the men inside laughed uproariously at the sound. Annabelle’s wild cackle nearly drowned out the other voices.

Cassie stepped back and glared at Rook. He was doubled over, coughing and hacking away, but nothing was coming up from his belly.

“It’s justice,” she said scornfully. “You’re getting exactly what you deserve.”

Before she had time to react, Rook had straightened up and stepped close to her. One arm circled her waist, hauling her against him, and he placed his other hand across her mouth.

“Sassy Cassie, I want you to listen to me,” he whispered with his mouth next to her ear. “Go to the mine and stay there until tomorrow. You understand? No matter what happens, no matter what you hear, no matter what you think you hear or see, stay in the mine until tomorrow afternoon. I want you out of sight and out of mind until Blackie and the others clear out.” He pulled back and
looked at her; then he slipped his hand off her mouth. “I don’t want them to hurt you, so get going while the going’s good.”

“But—”

“No.” He shook his head and gave her a resounding kiss on the mouth that touched her very soul. His eyes were luminous, tender, and full of regret. “Go, darlin’. Quick like a bunny.”