Bride Gone Bad Page 12

  Any fear she’d felt slipped away. The strangers were just a couple of farmers or traders and would soon be on their way. She relaxed against Lucky, enjoying being close to him. She nuzzled his chest to inhale his familiar scent. Instead, she sniffed the sweet aroma of violets. She chortled silently, chest heaving in mirth.

  He noticed, grinned, and squeezed her in response.

  She could hardly wait for the men to continue on their way so she could drag Lucky back to their blankets. She’d think of something new for him to do. It’d involve his mouth or his hands or his shaft. Any and all of him would suit her just fine. As she was contemplating his clever fingers roaming up her inner thighs, she heard a familiar voice rise loudly in anger out by the mules.

  She froze as her world tumbled to a complete stop. And then it started spinning madly backward day by day, month by month, until it reached one year ago, the day of her wedding.

  Haig Colbert, as she lived and breathed. He stood on the creek bank. She’d never forget his voice, a sultry sound that resonated like molasses and cream. Until the day he’d walked out on her, she’d thought he had the finest voice in the world. Now it sounded coarse and strident.

  And she’d thought he’d be hard to find. Instead, he’d come right to her. She reached down and plucked Lucky’s six-shooter out of its holster. She’d get Grandma’s money back right this minute.

  As she took a step toward the creek, Lucky clamped one hand across her mouth and jerked the .44 out of her hand. Shocked that he was trying to spoil her plans, she elbowed him in the ribs. He didn’t seem to notice as he quickly holstered his six-gun, put an arm around her waist, and lifted her off her feet.

  “What the hell’s got into you?” he hissed in her ear as he corralled her against the tree.

  She bit his hand and felt satisfied when she heard his muffled yelp, but he didn’t let go.

  “Calm down!” he hissed again. “You’re going to give us away.”

  She shook her head, still trying to break loose.

  “If I take my hand off your mouth, will you quietly explain?” he whispered.

  She nodded, but she was so mad she could spit. If she wasn’t careful, Haig would get away.

  Lucky slowly lowered his hand.

  “That’s Haig!” she hissed. “He’s going to escape.”

  “Who?”

  “My groom!”

  Lucky looked toward the men, then back at her. “One of those two is the man who needs shooting?”

  She nodded.

  “Sure that’s him?”

  “I know his voice.”

  “Okay. But look at the wagon.”

  She shrugged, not getting his point.

  “Whiskey barrels. Didn’t you say he’s a peddler?”

  She nodded again.

  “Illegal. They get caught? No choice. They’ll fire first and never ask questions.”

  She felt deflated. “But we can’t let him get away.”

  “Let’s move closer so we can hear what they’re saying. But don’t you dare take a chance and rush them.”

  “I won’t.” Yet she felt tempted to do that very thing.

  “If nothing else, we can pick up their trail in the morning.”

  She hated the thought of letting Haig out of her sight again, but for now, she must trust Lucky’s experience.

  When Lucky crept out from behind the tree, she followed, anxious to get closer to the man who had abandoned her.

  Chapter 23

  Lucky clenched his fists. He wanted to beat the hell out of Haig Colbert. The scoundrel deserved anything he got for causing Tempest and her family one moment of trouble. But he couldn’t go off half-cocked any more than she could, not with so much on the line.

  Even as he fumed, he wove his way around trees and shrubs to get in a better position to monitor the men on the other side of the creek. Tempest stayed right behind him, hardly making a noise. He didn’t often trust somebody at his back, but she was earning that type of respect.

  He finally found a place that suited their needs behind a huge downed tree trunk overgrown by thorny blackberry vines. He crouched down behind it and reached up to her. She sat beside him. They couldn’t see much from their position, but they could hear fine. He clasped her hand and settled on the ground, prepared to wait.

  He didn’t hear much at first except mule stomping, harness jingling, and wagon creaking.

  “Consternation! Rusty, don’t piss upstream. We’re drinking water down here.”

  Lucky felt Tempest squeeze his hand. When he glanced at her, she nodded in the direction of the speaker.

  Now he knew Haig’s voice. He focused on the man and reached out with his senses. He was surprised when he picked up the same sensation that he’d gotten from the three men as they’d left the Bend. Something about the connection, or the spiderweb, still felt familiar, but he couldn’t get a handle on it. He didn’t like the fact that they’d run across it again. He didn’t much believe in coincidence. The web was either unusually large or connected to him in some way. Maybe both. Either way, it couldn’t be good.

  “Shut your piehole, Haig. I gotta mind to piss, I’m gonna do it.”

  “You’re still riled ’cause you don’t like working for a boss.”

  “I’m dad-blame mad! You got no cause shooting a man for not selling you his whiskey.”

  “If I told you once, I told you a thousand times, Crawdaddy won’t allow independent whiskey dealers in Indian Territory. I had to make an example to keep folks in line.”

  “And I say again, that was a decent man. And who the hell is Crawdaddy? What makes him think he can send gunslingers in here and steal folks’ whiskey if they don’t kowtow to him?”

  A chill crawled up Lucky’s spine. Crawdaddy was supposed to be dead. How could he have survived the fire that had turned the building that had housed his cottonseed-oil business into a raging inferno? Deputy U.S. Marshals in Fort Smith, Arkansas, had combed through the debris and concluded that the body had burned so badly it couldn’t be found or recognized. He’d hoped that was the truth, but he’d suspected otherwise.

  Now he knew Crawdaddy, or General Burl Crawford in polite society, was alive. Crawdaddy often said that he was a bottom feeder like his namesake because everything eventually fell to the river bottom where it was ripest and easiest to pluck. Crawdaddy was smart and ruthless, and he dealt in antiquities. That was one of the ways Lucky knew him. But he was also a Rattler, powerful, deadly, and dangerous. They stood on opposite sides of Indian artifacts. Crawdaddy supplied while Lucky preserved.

  Now that he knew his old adversary was back in business, everything fell into place. No wonder the sensations had felt familiar. Crawdaddy must be casting a web over Indian Territory from illegal liquor to stolen horses to looted antiquities. He was trying to put a stranglehold on the most ornery, independent, dangerous outlaws anywhere. And if Crawdaddy got his hands on more power, he might just do it.

  Haig was part of Crawdaddy’s gang, but was he a lowly, expendable foot soldier, or was he a valuable lieutenant? How much or how little did he know? And could he lead them to Crawdaddy?

  Lucky had to figure out how best to play the flush he’d been dealt. For the moment, he was one up in Crawdaddy’s game and he wanted to keep it that way.

  “If you don’t toe the line,” Haig said, “Crawdaddy is the general who can and will make sure you curse the day you were born.”

  “Bet he’s all talk. Never heard of him.”

  “Damn Yankees’ll give you an earful. They were blue-bellies when they ran into him, but they were red-bellies when he was done.”

  “He’s that general? Everybody’s heard of him.”

  “Gives you pause, don’t it?”

  “He must be pretty long in the tooth by now, twenty-odd year.”

  “He’s got plenty of teeth left to chew you up and spit you out.”

  “Could be. But he’s not here.” Rusty loudly hawked and spit. “I say we take this wagonload to the
widow up Denison City way. She’ll see it gets in the right hands. She’s got two little ones to raise on her own now and will need the money.”

  “If you think that sad tale will touch my heart, you’re wrong. We’re taking this load to Burnt Boggy Saloon.”

  “I sell in Texas, not Indian Territory.”

  A pistol cock sounded loud in the night. “You drive this wagon, or I put a bullet in your head and I drive this wagon. Your choice.”

  “Don’t get all riled up. I’m driving, but you’re selling.”

  “Suits me. But that means you don’t get a cut.”

  “Don’t make me no never-mind. I just wanna get home to Texas.”

  “Pick your poison. I’ll take a Deputy U.S. Marshal over a Texas Ranger any day of the week.”

  “That’s ’cause you ain’t met up with neither yet.”

  “And I won’t. If you’d keep your trap shut and listen once in a while, you’d figure out that if you work with Crawdaddy, you’ve got protection.”

  “If you was smart, you’d figure out a man’s best protection is his Colt and Winchester. If you wait for help, by the time it gets there you’re way past needing it.”

  “Rusty, you got a small mind. I think big and I’m going places.”

  “Go as far as you like, but Burnt Boggy is the end of the line for me.”

  “Okay, if that’s the way you want it,” Haig said. “Let’s get some shut-eye.”

  Lucky realized those two weren’t going anywhere till dawn. They were also vulnerable without a guard. He could get the drop on Haig. He didn’t figure Rusty would give him much trouble. He could even get them to the authorities on the Texas side of the Red River. But that would show his hand. If he waited, he stood a chance of learning more and stopping Crawdaddy.

  He squeezed Tempest’s hand, hoping she didn’t decide now was the time to get her own back.

  She leaned close to his ear. “You better tell me we’re going to Burnt Boggy Saloon.”

  Chapter 24

  Tempest could hardly contain her anger. She wanted to rush across the stream and pummel Haig with her fists. At the sound of his voice, all the old pain had crashed in on her. She wanted to hurt him as much as he’d hurt her. Now she wasn’t sure how she’d withstood the pain to her heart or the embarrassment in the community, not just for herself but for Elmira and Lamira. They’d been duped by a fast-talking stranger, and everybody knew it. They’d held up their heads in town, but it hadn’t been easy.

  With Haig so close, she could hardly keep from taking out her fury on him. She wanted to punish him, and then force him to give back their money. Yet she knew she couldn’t do it alone. She clenched Lucky’s hand in frustration. Without him to back her up, she didn’t stand a chance. Haig would simply draw his Colt and shoot her before she got close.

  All her lady skills worked to her benefit in Jefferson, but out here they were more hindrance than help. She needed to get smarter, stronger, and quicker. She could hardly believe how naive she’d been when she’d left home. Now she had a glimpse of just how much she needed to learn, but even more, how dependent she was on Lucky.

  She felt uneasy about that fact. He’d given her so much so fast, but she’d returned so little. If she could do something for him so that the scales were more balanced, she’d feel better about it. Yet he didn’t seem to need her despite hiring her as a Spirit Rattler. If he gave and gave while she took and took, he’d eventually get enough and leave her. She couldn’t stand that thought, not after he’d touched her so intimately, both physically and emotionally.

  Yet they were together because of a business arrangement. She had to keep that in mind. When it was completed, he’d move on with his life and she’d go back to Jefferson. Tears burned her eyes at the thought of losing him. She bit her lower lip. She had to get tougher. Haig had taught her that she couldn’t trust her heart to a man. She couldn’t trust her body, either. What she could allow herself to do was take a little pleasure along the way. Yet it should only be physical, never emotional.

  She must keep her goals foremost in mind, not pleasure, not revenge. She’d left home to save Elmira and Lamira, so that must remain her primary goal. If she found a way to help Lucky, she’d be carrying her own weight and would feel better about being with him. He’d appeared to enjoy initiating her into the sensual side of life. Maybe he needed physical comfort, too. She’d be happy to provide that for him, and take pleasure in it. Eventually, she would talk to his ghosts. And that would be the end of their life together.

  At the thought, she felt a wrench in her heart. She rubbed the tender place on her skin, attributing her pain to it.

  When she felt Lucky squeeze her hand, she glanced at his face. He tilted his head toward the horses, and then leaned in close.

  “Let’s go back,” he whispered.

  “But what about Haig?”

  “We’ll get him later.”

  She shook her head. What if later never came?

  “I promise.” He stood up and held out his hand.

  She glanced toward Haig, then put her hand in Lucky’s and allowed him to help her stand. She was putting all her trust in one man. Again. Somehow, she didn’t think Lucky would let her down.

  She followed him quietly back to the oak tree. He quickly rolled up one blanket while she took care of the other. When he picked up their saddlebags and canteens, she realized they were riding out. She glanced around, setting the scene in her mind. This place would always hold deep meaning for her. Not the rattlesnake or the ghost, but Lucky and their intimacy. How she wished they hadn’t been interrupted, but Haig had once more intruded into her life and left her the poorer for it.

  “Let’s go,” Lucky whispered.

  She nodded, and then walked with him to the horses, taking care to make as little noise as possible. While he readied their mounts, she pulled her revolver out of her saddlebag, turning it over in her hands. She looked back toward the creek. Haig slept while not realizing that the woman he had wronged stood nearby with the instrument of his destruction in her hands.

  She’d never thought to feel so much power or so much protection from one small object, but she did now. No wonder a man wore a six-gun on his hip out here. She never wanted to be without a gun again.

  When Lucky walked up to her, she saw that he held her box of ammunition. She smiled in surprise.

  “I’ll load it for you, but I still need to show you how to shoot once we’re away from here. You can keep it in your saddlebags, so it’s ready if you need it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “If need be, point and squeeze the trigger.” He took the .32 from her and quickly loaded it.

  When he handed it back, she could feel the extra weight.

  “Make sure you always point it down or away from others unless you intend to fire.”

  “Okay.” She tucked her revolver in its holster, and then positioned it in her saddlebag so she could reach it.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  When Lucky helped her up into the saddle, she felt the pull of sore muscles. She had wanted to stay on the ground for as long as possible, but she was already back in the saddle again. Somehow, she’d endure until she grew stronger and tougher.

  She followed Lucky out of the clearing as he headed north. He set a slow, cautious pace under the dark canopy of trees. An owl hooted as insects stilled their songs. She hoped Haig and his friend slept too deeply to notice the change in the sounds around them.

  After a while, she rode up beside Lucky, relishing being with him in the cocoon of darkness. A little later, they crossed over Buffalo Creek. In the moonlight, she felt as if they were the only two people in the world. If things were different, she wouldn’t mind riding with him into one sunrise after another.

  She saw him move close to her. He reached out and squeezed her hand. She couldn’t help wondering if he was thinking the same thing, or maybe it was wishful thinking on her part. In any case, the night felt magical and he made her feel
special, as if after a long journey, she’d come home.

  “We’re far enough away that we can talk now.” He spoke in a low tone as he pulled back his hand.

  “How far to Burnt Boggy?”

  “It’s a ways. We’ll need to rest the horses later. Even so, we’ll get there ahead of a slow wagon.”

  “I want a chance to practice with my .32 before I see Haig again.”

  “Tempest, trust me on this. If you don’t have to, you don’t want to kill a man.”

  “I don’t want to kill him, at least not too much. I want to scare him and get Grandma’s money back.”

  “I doubt you’ll have a bit of trouble doing those two things.”

  “Good.”

  “I want to talk with you about something.”

  “What?”

  “Promise me that you’ll listen with an open mind to all I have to say.”

  “Is this going to be bad?” She didn’t like the seriousness of his tone.

  “It’s not bad, not at all, but it may stretch your credulity.”

  “My what?”

  “Your ability to believe me.”

  “Maybe not. Remember, I see ghosts. That’s a far sight farther than most people can go.”

  “And I want you to promise me that you won’t breathe a word of this to another soul unless I give you permission.”

  “That’s asking a lot.”

  “I know. If I could, I’d wait to tell you.”

  “All right. It’s your secret. I promise.”

  “I want you to understand that there will be severe consequences out of my control if you break your word.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “It will in time.”

  “You’re making me feel uneasy.” A shiver ran up her spine. “Why don’t you just not tell me?”

  “Too late for that.”

  She heard a chorus of coyotes howling in the distance, moving closer. She shivered again. There was a wild current running through Indian Territory that she’d never felt anywhere else, except when ghosts appeared to her. Now that she thought about it, Lucky carried that feeling with him. He was wild and wanton, calm and tender, smart and sensual. He was everything she could want in a man. Yet he wasn’t a man to hold forever.