Audrey and the Maverick (7 page)

She moved back two more steps, then pivoted and retrieved Amy. Julian went to one of the library windows and watched her leave, Amy in her arms. He leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the windowpane. He’d had no idea, when he met her last summer, how perilous her situation was. Her eyes were filled with secrets and desperation. Yet he still couldn’t tell what was an act and what was real.

He knew only two things: he didn’t like being played, and he was finding it hard to care that he shouldn’t take her to his bed.

He left his house and slowly moved back toward camp, so preoccupied that he’d left the front yard before he smelled the cigar smoke. It was a distinctive tobacco blend he associated with only one man: Jace Gage. A quick scan of the area showed his friend leaning negligently against the shadowy wall of the half-constructed carriage house. An orange glow briefly lit his face as he drew air through the cigar.

Julian went to greet his friend. Seeing him, Jace grinned, his cigar clamped in one corner of his mouth. They shook hands rigorously. “Jace Gage. Damn, it’s good to see you!”

Jace’s grin widened. “Been a while, McCaid,” he said in that strange, raw voice of his.

Julian passed a critical eye over his friend. His blond hair was overlong and ragged. He hadn’t shaved in a fair number of days. His beard was thickening and growing into his mustache. He wore a double bandolier crossed over his chest, strapped into a double holster sporting twin Colts. A Bowie knife was sheathed near the buckle of his gun belt. He coat was torn and stained, and over one shoulder he wore a rifle. Julian could see how he’d earned his nickname “Avenger.”

“You look like hell, Jace.”

“And you’ve gone soft, McCaid.” Jace shook his head. “Living on three squares and a bit of candy in your bed.”

“I’ll admit to three squares, but I sure as hell am not getting any candy.”

“Then you’re losing your touch, my friend.” He blew out a puff of smoke and squinted through the haze. “Who’s the girl?”

“She’s a friend of Sager’s brother.” He made a face. “She pickpocketed me and is out here working off her debt.”

Jace couldn’t keep a straight face. “So the score’s pickpocket one, industrialist zero.”

Julian crossed his arms and braced his legs. Disliking the course their conversation was taking, he changed the subject. “How about you tell me why the deputy marshal’s so interested in Defiance?”

“Railroad ties. The government has millions of dollars tied up in loan guarantees to railroad developers—it wants those lines built and needs railroad ties to do it. The marshal wants a safe route to transport money and supplies up to those logging camps. That route happens to come straight through Defiance.” He blew out another cloud of smoke. “So here I am.”

“Kemp’s got Defiance crawling with his men.”

“I know. I’ve been watching them.”

“He’s bringing in more.”

“Won’t matter.”

Julian wasn’t one to shy away from a fair fight. Hell, even an unfair fight. But the odds facing Jace were untenable. “What can I do?”

“Guard your perimeter. I’m gonna be raising all kinds of trouble, which’ll make the sheriff do the same. I wanted you here so that I don’t have to worry about your ranch. Other than that, just stay out of my way.”

“I don’t like this, Jace. Not one bit. Even in the war, we didn’t take on shit like this alone.”

“I’ve been going it alone for three years, McCaid. I damn sure don’t need a keeper now.”

Julian stared at his friend. He thought back to the failed lynching that Jace’s own wife participated in. He and Sager had gotten to Jace in time to save his life, but not before the rope—and the whole cursed event—had changed his life forever. “You’re never going to kill all the bad guys, Jace.”

Jace dropped his cigar butt and crushed it beneath his heel. “That’s a true fact, Julian. But I can keep at it till they kill me.”

Kemp eyed the man standing in front of his desk. “I’m not asking you to kill anyone. Just play it rough out at Hell’s Gulch. I need McCaid focused on his ranch.”

“Ain’t that what you sent the girl out for?”

Kemp felt his temper ratchet up a notch. He didn’t like being questioned. He slowly came to his feet. “I’m paying you good money to do what you’re told and not ask questions. I thought you wanted a place of your own, thought you were ready to be your own boss. But if you don’t need the money, or you’re too squeamish to do the job, just tell me. I’ll get someone else to take your spot.”

The man sighed and lowered his gaze. “I could use the money, Sheriff. I just don’t like doing it this way.”

“Keep him busy. Keep him out there. That’s all you gotta do.”

Audrey and Jenkins settled into a workable routine over the next couple of days. He took on the job of tending the farm animals and never seemed to mind Amy Lynn tagging after him to feed the animals or milk the cow or collect the eggs. Once, when Amy was distracted, he even fetched her for his round of chores. And he taught Audrey how to tend the smokehouse fire, maintaining a consistent amount of heat and smoke on the curing meat.

Though she and Jenkins had found a comfortable working relationship, she and McCaid had not. She was ever aware of him. When he wasn’t watching her at mealtimes, he was glaring at his men, curtailing their interactions with her. And it didn’t help her nerves that he was readying his ranch for an attack.

He armed his men with Colts and Winchesters, and as they rotated in from the flocks and outer pastures, they had target practice. For an hour each afternoon, gunfire shattered the tranquility of the ranch. Every night, after supper had been cleared, they took over the long serving table under the cook tent to clean and oil their weapons. She was glad she’d decided to keep her children away.

Something was coming.

Tonight she was serving shredded barbecue beef, rolls, and beans. The men were hungry. She looked down the line of men waiting to be served, wondering if she’d made enough. Her gaze caught on the leering face of one of Kemp’s men. Her heart started a staccato beat. After the first few days, without seeing them, she had begun to foster a hope they wouldn’t come out after all, or that Franklin would find them lacking and refuse to hire them. But here they were, standing a couple of men away from her in the food line.

She tried to maintain her composure as she served the men, but one by one, Kemp’s men came closer until finally they were in front of her. Her hands shook as she scooped beans onto the first one’s plate. He grabbed her wrist, squeezing her in a painful grip. The spoon she held clattered to the table, spreading brown sauce and bean residue in a wide circle.

He leaned forward and whispered, “Honey, you know I want more than that. I’m hungry. Fill it up,” he growled.

This was unspeakably rude. The ranch hands, by an unwritten agreement, always allowed everyone to go through the food line once for a single serving before coming back for seconds. Kemp’s man was insisting on extra food in the beginning, while there were still so many others to feed. Audrey was afraid of him. Afraid for her children whom she left unguarded at home. Afraid for Amy Lynn who was here, but sometimes out of her sight. It would be easy to make an accident happen.

She didn’t look down the line at the other ranch hands, didn’t seek help. She couldn’t risk causing problems that would backfire for her and the children. She dipped the spoon back in the bean bowl and gave him an extra serving, then quickly went on to his sneering friend, hoping no one noticed her reaction to either of the men.

That night, after she had put Amy Lynn to bed, she came back to the cookhouse, watching for Kemp’s men. Jenkins had a handle on the evening’s dishes, but she had to prepare for the morning. Again there was little food left in the slop pot, but what there was, she fed to the pigs. She added a few items to a list of supplies she needed to have refilled when someone next went to Defiance. Then she went inside the cookhouse and filled the coffee grinder with beans for the morning’s first pot of coffee.

As she worked the grinder box a man came up behind her, planting his hands on either side of her on the counter and rubbing his body against hers. Audrey went stiff. She knew without looking he was one of Kemp’s men. She could smell him. His body pressed her stomach painfully against the edge of the counter. He nuzzled against her neck, his fetid breath as rank as the slop bucket she’d just emptied.

“I’ve been looking for you all night, darlin’.”

Audrey shoved her elbow into his side and pushed to be free of him, but he didn’t release her. “Leave me alone!” She looked hopefully at the door, but realized how isolated they were in the cookhouse, away from the protection of the other hands.

His wiry arms folded around her, locking her in place. “Aw, now, honey, that ain’t no way to be. Zeke and me, we drew straws to see who would get to do you first, and I’m the lucky winner.”

“Let go of me!”

“I ain’t gonna do that.” His hand squeezed her breast. “And I don’t think you really want me to. ’Cause you know where Zeke is? He’s up at your cabin, keepin’ that little brat of yours company.”

Audrey stopped resisting, but her heart still pounded, filling her body with the need to fight or run, anything but stand still. The man lifted her skirt, raising the material slowly in fistfuls. His legs moved between hers, spreading hers on either side of him. No. No. This couldn’t be happening.

Suddenly, he was gone, along with the sour cloud of his breath. Audrey spun around in time to see McCaid launch his fist into the man’s face. The sheriff’s man got one good hit in, striking McCaid’s mouth. But in short succession, McCaid got the upper hand, landing powerful blows to the man’s face and torso before shoving him outside, where he sprawled in the dirt.

McCaid wiped the back of his fist against his torn lip as he stepped outside. “What the hell do you think you’re doing touching my woman?”

“Your woman?” The man came to his feet. “She ain’t your woman. We been real friendly a long time. I think I’d know if you was doin’ her.” Those were the last words he spoke before McCaid’s fist laid him out cold. By then, several men had gathered around, including Jenkins and Franklin.

“Throw him in a wagon and get him out of here,” he told his foreman. “We don’t need his like stirring up trouble.”

Audrey, watching from the doorway, wrung her hands. This was exactly what Kemp had warned her against. Oh God, what now? How could she protect her kids if she didn’t stop this? How could she protect herself and Amy if she did?

“Please don’t send him away,” she pleaded.

“You know that bastard?” McCaid turned his rage on her, his face folded in disgust.

She nodded. “He’s a h-hard worker.” She stumbled on the lie. “He only gets like this when he’s been drinking. Please, please give him another chance. You need all the hands you can get, and he needs the work.”

McCaid’s brows lowered. “I don’t want troublemakers in my camp. That goes for him. And you.”

Audrey nodded rapidly, grateful he seemed to be entertaining her request. McCaid cursed and turned to Franklin. “Take him out to the southeast pasture. He can work that corner until he cools off. He is not to speak to or be near Miss Sheridan, is that clear?”

Franklin nodded, then hurried to carry out those orders. Audrey stepped outside and started for her cabin. McCaid followed her, but she didn’t slow her pace.

“Where are you running off to?”

“I have to check on Amy.”

McCaid kept stride with her. “Do you want to explain what just happened back there? Where do you know him from? Who is he to you?”

“You ask too many questions.”

“And I’m not getting any answers.”

“You won’t like the answers.” They reached Audrey’s small cabin. She glanced about the outside as she approached. No one was around. Of course, McCaid’s yammering probably scared Zeke off. Audrey opened the door to her cabin as silently as possible. The sun had not quite set; there was still enough dusky light to tell that no one but the peacefully sleeping Amy was inside. Audrey hurried out the other side. No one standing about there either. She walked from side to side of her cabin. Nothing. Perhaps Kemp’s man had been bluffing. Perhaps Zeke had never been up here, waiting to harm Amy.

Perhaps he’d heard their approach and got away.

Whatever the case, Amy was safe. And for the time being, so were her other children since Zeke’s partner wasn’t being sent back to town. Audrey crossed her arms and shut her eyes as she filled her lungs with a deep breath and slowly exhaled. All was well. Everyone was safe.

For now.

“Start talking, Sheridan.” McCaid stood before her, hands on his hips.

“I’ve got nothing to say.”

“You were looking for someone. That man threatened you, didn’t he? Who is he to you?”

Audrey waved a hand in an irritated manner. “He’s no one to me. Just someone I know from town.”

“How many of my men do you know?”

Audrey put her hands on her hips, facing him. They stood in the last rays of the day’s sun, orange light washing where shadows didn’t yet reach. Audrey felt anger fill the void left by her fear. She was furious with McCaid and Kemp and his nasty hirelings. Most of all, she was angry with herself.

“I know lots of them. All of them.” She waved her hand angrily. “Surprise! I’m Defiance’s best-kept secret, the high-priced whore wh-who l-lives in a shack.” Tears welled in her eyes, and yet her mouth kept spouting terrible words. “And now you’ve told them I’m your woman.” She drew a ragged breath. “Wh-what were you thinking? How could you do something as thoughtless as that?”

And then she was in his arms, her face muffled against his chest. His shoulders curved around her, and he rested his chin on her head. Still the tears came, great big tears she’d been storing for years. Years of trying to be brave for her brother and the kids. Years of making ends meet and saving child after child with no resources or hope for their future. She gripped handfuls of his shirt as she wept against his chest while he silently absorbed her sorrow.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured against the top of her head. “It was thoughtless of me. I only wanted to protect you.”

Caught between his heartbeat and the gentling pressure of his hand rubbing her back, Audrey felt her tears ease. He kissed her hair. He lifted her face and pressed his lips against her forehead, then lower to the space between her eyebrows, then one side of her nose. He kissed her wet cheek, the corner of her mouth, before his mouth slanted across hers. He cupped the back of her head and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her up and against him.

His tongue slid against hers, pushing and tasting until she forgot all else. Her hands moved up his chest so she could wrap her arms around his neck. He broke the kiss, then started it again, his mouth moving over hers ravenously, a man starved for affection. When the kiss ended, he slowly set her feet back on the ground.

She moved back fractionally. “I’m not your woman, McCaid.”

“You are. I’ve claimed you.”

Audrey felt shock stiffen her limbs. “You can’t do that.”

“I’ve done it. Men are simple creatures. They want food. They want work. And they want sex. I’m giving them food and work. I just made it damn clear that they won’t be getting sex from you. You’re safer if they think you’re my woman.” McCaid grew still. For the space of a few heartbeats, he simply regarded her, the emotion in his brown eyes sizzling like a lit fuse. He touched her cheek, his fingers feathering across her skin. Never had she known a man’s touch could be so gentle. Audrey wondered if her bruises on her neck were still visible. They didn’t hurt anymore.

“Give me one night,” he whispered as he brought his other hand up to her face. His touch was so distracting that it took her a full minute to understand the meaning of his words. “One night. Then I will take you back to Defiance, your debt forgiven. You can get away from this camp, from me, from the men here. You can be settled again in your own home.”

Audrey didn’t say no, but she couldn’t say yes. It was too soon for her to return to Defiance. His mouth took hers in a gentle kiss. She opened her eyes, seeing half of his face washed in the golden light of the lowering sun, the other half darkened by his own silhouette. His arms went around her. He was hardness and muscle and bone where she was soft and round and thin. Her toes barely touched the ground. She didn’t fight the kiss, but she didn’t assist it either. She was too absorbed in cataloging what it felt like to have his arms around her.

Glorious.

It was glorious. And deadly.

If she surrendered, he would return her to town. “No.” She pushed away from him. “No.” He dropped his arms, giving no resistance as she backed away. “Good night, McCaid.”

Julian said nothing; he just watched her pivot and enter her cabin. He headed back to camp, where he poured himself a cup of coffee and cast a jaundiced glance over the men. Who of them had been with Audrey? Which of them had she let near her, hold her. Fuck her? Some looked at him, some ignored him. Shit. He dumped his coffee and went to the corral to saddle his horse. Maybe a ride would help this rangy restlessness consuming him.

He was just tightening his horse’s cinch when Franklin approached him. “Boss, I gotta talk to you.”

“What is it, Franklin?”

“That man tonight—there were two of them that came in together. One of them was that Howie character you just dealt with, the other a mean hombre named Zeke. I think we oughtta get rid of them both.”

Julian straightened. Had Audrey been looking for Howie’s partner? Who the hell were they? “No. They’re here for a reason. Might go better for us to know about them, know what they are up to, than to have them out of eyesight. Keep them separated. Work them like sons of bitches. I want them too tired to cause trouble. Don’t issue them rifles. They won’t be at the target practices.”

“Yessir.”

“And, Franklin—get a cot set up for Amy in the cookhouse. She shouldn’t be so far from Miss Sheridan at night.”

“Will do, boss.”

Julian swung up onto his horse as Franklin held the gate for him. He moved at a sedate trot past camp, then squeezed his horse into a lope. He listened to the sound of the wind and the beat of his horse’s hooves, but he couldn’t outrun his thoughts. What the hell had possessed him tonight? Never in his life had he begged a woman to be with him, yet just now, with Audrey, he had done that very thing. He’d never lost control before. Not in the war, not in his postwar business dealings, not in his careful vetting of potential wife candidates. But every time he looked at Audrey, he wanted her.

Naked. Above him. Beneath him. Wrapped around him.

He pulled up on a slight rise as the pinks and oranges cast by the setting sun gave way to purples, then blues, then the thin, wispy clouds turned gray. What did his hankering for Audrey mean for the plans he’d made for his future? Maybe his reaction to her had nothing to do with the woman herself. Maybe she was just a conveniently available female, something to distract himself from the fact that when he returned to Virginia, he was going to choose a wife from among the half dozen women he’d carefully selected—none of whom did he have a passion for, some of whom he knew as acquaintances, all of whom could trace their bloodlines back to the country’s founding fathers.