TheSurrenderofLacyMorgan (21 page)

“The lady asked you to release her,” Quinn said with a
deadly calm that belied the rage ripping through him.

“You ain’t gonna kill me over some whore, no matter how
fancy she’s dressed, mister,” the fool said without loosening his hold.

“She’s no whore. She’s my woman and no one touches what’s
mine.” His voice deep and threatening like thunder, Quinn thumbed back the
hammer.

Pete’s eyes grew round and he swallowed, but he didn’t
loosen his grip on Lacy.

“Pete, let ’er go afore he blows yer head off,” his friend
begged.

“I’d listen to your friend, because mine will kill you
without hesitation,” Dakota drawled. “Then I’ll be forced to shoot,” he paused
to look at the skinny man at the end of his gun, “Duffy, wasn’t it?”

Duffy blinked. “Yessir.”

“Then I’d be forced to shoot old Duffy, here, which would be
most unfortunate.”

Finally, Pete sobered enough to realize how precarious his
situation was. Quickly he released his hold on Lacy, but didn’t move another
muscle.

“Good decision.” Quinn caught Lacy by the arm and maneuvered
her toward Dakota, who pushed her behind him.

“I didn’t mean no harm, mister.” A trickle of sweat ran down
Pete’s face, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“Should’ve thought of that before you attacked my lady.”
Ignoring the crowd that had gathered at the saloon’s door and windows, Quinn
drew his other gun and pointed it at Duffy. “Why don’t you join your friend
over here?”

“Sure, sure thing, mister.” Duffy skittered over to stand by
Pete.

“Good. Dakota, take her back to the hotel.”

“Quinn, he didn’t hurt me,” Lacy said.

“He touched you.” And for that alone the man should die.
Quinn narrowed his eyes at the two fools quaking in front of him, but slid his
Colt off Pete’s temple, easing the hammer back in place and taking a step back
as he did. “Dakota, get her out of here.”

Dakota gripped Lacy’s elbow and turned her toward the hotel.
“Come along, pet. Let the man have his fun.”

“But they didn’t hurt me.”

“You have to trust him, pet.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Quinn saw her digging in her
heels.

Fool woman.

Damn it. He needed her safe in the hotel before this whole
situation blew up in his face.

“Dakota!”

“We’re going.” And with that, he bent down and scooped Lacy
over his shoulder, butt in the air.

“Put me down,” she protested, hitting him on the back as he
carried her away from the danger and into the hotel.

Everyone around Quinn laughed, including the two fools
facing his guns. He cleared his throat. “Gentlemen, may I have your attention?
Anyone else want to join these two?”

Shaking their heads, the men in the doorway edged back into
the saloon and the windows cleared.

“Why don’t you shoot yer friend, he’s touchin’ yer lady?”
Pete asked once they stood alone on the walkway.

“He has my permission. Now turn around. We’re gonna take a
walk.”

Both men shuffled backward as they sputtered.

“Hey, mister, yer can’t just shoot us.”

“I never touched her, mister.”

“Keep walking.” Quinn listened to them beg all the way down
the street. He’d rather take the pair out back of the saloon and at least
pummel them, if not put a few bullets in them for threatening Lacy.

Thing was, Cap wouldn’t approve, and he had a feeling Lacy
wouldn’t either. No, she’d probably feel guilty for their deaths, even though,
like with Cap, she hadn’t pulled the trigger.

“Stop here.”

The pair stumbled to a stop and looked up at the sign over
their heads.

JAIL.

“Yer mean yer ain’t gonna shoot us?” Pete asked, so relieved
he and Duffy looked like two daisies wilting in the summer sun.

“Inside.”

Chapter Ten

Maddocks stood to the side of the crowd of men filling the
saloon’s door and window, watching the whore. She’d managed to elude the boss
for years and now she takes up with not just one man, but two?

The white man drew on the drunk miners.

Bloodlust filled the crowd until he could smell it. They
wanted a gunfight. Most hoped her protectors would get killed so they could
claim her luscious body.

A moan ripped through the crowd when the lean gunman secured
the whore’s release.

Maddocks tried to hear the conversation taking place outside
the saloon, but the murmurs of the crowd muffled the words. The whore was
protesting and her second protector, the half-breed, picked her up over his
shoulder and carried her across to the hotel. The first man marched the miners
up the street, disappearing before he could get past the crowd, which was
slowly breaking up.

Wasn’t this interesting?

Boss had sent him after Santos, not trusting him to return
with the whore and the money.

Instead, he finds the whore, no Santos in sight. Had she
promised her protectors part of the bank haul? If so, was she leading them to
where she hid it?

He pondered the new twist in his assignment as he headed
back to the bar and ordered another whiskey.

Lady Luck.

That’s what this was. A change in his fortune. He could
track the whore and her men to the money. And he could take it and disappear
without Boss or Santos knowing he’d found it.

Images of the whore stripped and tied to the camp whipping
post as her stepdaddy lashed her filled his mind. His cock swelled and pushed
against his fly at the memory.

He’d wanted to fuck her since the day he’d joined Devil’s
gang, but she’d never let him near enough to get in her britches and Devil had
made it clear he’d kill any man who got to her before him.

A smile split his lips as he sipped his drink.

If he played his cards right, he could take what the whore
had hidden between those long legs of hers and the money.

* * * * *

“Put. Me. Down,” Lacy ordered Dakota between clenched teeth.

He’d ignored her as he’d crossed the street with her hanging
over his shoulder, even though she’d pummeled his back with her fists. Through
the lobby he’d continued to ignore her hissing demands to stop carrying her
like a sack of feed. Instead, he’d smacked her hard once on the rump in front
of the people milling about. She’d even bitten her tongue as she bounced on his
shoulder up the stairs.

But damn it, she’d had enough.

It was one thing to use her to capture Devil, Santos and the
other outlaws—they were all guilty of murder. But those two men were nothing
more than harmless drunks. Obnoxious drunks, but she could’ve handled them.
Hell, she’d handled more than one in her years living in the valley.

But she wouldn’t let Quinn or Dakota use her as an excuse to
punish someone for stupidity.

She reared her booted foot back and took aim at the junction
of his thighs.

He clamped his free hand around her calf and stopped her
from kicking him. “Whoa there, pet, I didn’t stop my grandfather from gelding
me as a boy, only to have you do so now. I’ll set you down.”

Slowly he let her slide down the hard front planes of his
body, grabbing her by the hips and stopping her just before her feet hit the
ground.

He smiled like her anger amused him.

She wanted to smack that smile off his face. “You aren’t
supposed to be the mean one. That’s Quinn’s job.”

He lost the smile.

“Do not underestimate me, pet. I’m very much like my
brother. If you push me too hard, I will exact punishment. If a situation is
dangerous, like just now down on the street, I’ll do whatever is necessary to
pull you out of harm’s way.”

He pulled her into him, pressing her hips against the
thickness of his cock and forcing her to grip his shoulders for support.

“And if I thought for one minute you’d belong to me, I’d be
the one facing those men,” he said, his lips mere inches from hers.

“Then why aren’t you? You’ve had my body as much as Quinn.”

“Because I’d want your heart as much as your body. And we
both know that belongs to Quinn.”

He saw too much. And she feared he was right.

“Then put me down.” She pulled her arms between them and
shoved as hard as she could. “I’m not in danger now.”

He lifted one eyebrow, then lowered her until she stood on
the floor in front of him. She shoved again and he released his hold on her.

“Go help Quinn slaughter those two men if you think he’s so
right. Just leave me out of it.” She strode across the room to the oil lamp and
lit it.

“Trust us, pet. We’re not like the savages in Devil’s gang.”

“Really? I’m not so sure about that.”

She recognized the lie the minute it left her lips, but she
intended to hold on to her anger. It was the only part of her pride she had
left. “Get out and leave me alone.”

Making no move to leave, he stood like a statue in front of
the door. For a minute she considered hurling the ceramic pitcher from the
bureau at his head, then he gave her a nod, opened the door and left.

Before she could celebrate her victory she heard the key
turn in the lock. He’d locked her in. Again.

“Ugh!” She flopped onto the bed in frustration. “Trust you?
You lock me in and I’m supposed to trust you?”

When she didn’t hear his boots going down the hall, she
scowled at the door. “I could always crawl out the window, you know.”

He was probably standing out there laughing at her.

Fine. Let him laugh, heck let them both laugh. She was done
being used by men as an excuse to kill someone.

“Damn stupid men.”

“Because I’d want your heart as much as your body. And we
both know that belongs to Quinn.”

Rage at her own foolishness surged through her. “Ugh!” She
stomped across the room to the bureau, then opened and slammed the top drawer.

“Damn, damn, damn.”

Dakota was right.

Who was the stupid one? She’d lost her heart to a man who
planned to use her then exact justice for her crimes, quite possibly at the end
of a rope.

* * * * *

Something wasn’t right.

Quinn stopped at the top of the stairs. His senses on alert,
he palmed his Colt once more and surveyed the situation.

Dakota stood outside their rooms, his back to the wall, arms
crossed over his chest. He didn’t seem to be expecting trouble. He looked
relaxed and amused.

Then why wasn’t he inside the room with Lacy?

Dakota turned his head. “Put the gun away. You aren’t going
to need it. At least I don’t think so.”

“Lacy?” he asked as he slipped the gun back in its holster.

“Inside. Mad as hell.”

“Why?”

“Took exception to me carrying her all the way up here.”

He chuckled. “That all?”

“And locking her in the room.”

“And?”

“Thinks you took those two hombres out back and put bullets
in them.”

“Considered it. Why is she so pissed about it?” he asked,
even though he already knew the answer.

Dakota shrugged. “Seems she doesn’t like being an excuse for
someone else dying. Thinks she’s responsible for Cap’s murder and the other two
deaths in Cheyenne.”

“Yep. Even though she was outside holding the horses. Guess
we’ll just have to convince her she’s not to blame for their deaths and that I
didn’t kill those two idiots.”

“Well, you’ll need this.” Dakota handed him the room key.

He took the key and moved in front of the door. “Aren’t you
coming in?”

“Nope.”

“Afraid to face her again?”

“It’s not me she needs to be with right now.”

“So you just going to stand out here listening? Might as
well come in and watch.”

“Not this time. I think I’ll go get those herbs we talked
about. We are leaving in the morning, aren’t we?”

He met Dakota’s slightly amused gaze. “Well, that sort of
depends on what happens in here.”

“Good luck.”

They shook hands, the matching slash scars on their palms
crossing. The connection always flashed images into Quinn’s mind of the night
they’d sworn to keep a secret and always be blood brothers.

Dakota started down the hall toward the stairs. “Watch out
for the pitcher and bowl. She eyed them once as weapons before I left.”

Quinn studied the door in front of him and considered the
room’s occupant. A ripple of dread crossed his spine, quickly followed by a
thrill of anticipation.

He unlocked the door and stepped inside. Never taking his
eyes off Lacy, he felt around until he slipped the key in the lock and turned
it.

Standing in front of the bed, still dressed in the green
silk dress, she was bathed in the warm glow of the lamp light. He let his gaze
drift over the copper curls piled elegantly on her head, then down to the
features of her face. Her eyes narrowed as if she could harm him with one look.
The lift of her chin. Delicate lace trembling against the long column of her
neck. The rise and fall of her breasts in the thin bodice of the gown.

Glorious.

A goddess.

Mine.

Once more that uneasy feeling of needing to claim her filled
him as he eyed her fists clenched at her sides.

Yep. She was one very angry woman.

And the sight of her like this had his cock hard and
straining at the opening of his pants.

“Did you kill them?” she asked in a calm, level tone.

“Pete and Duffy?”

“Did you kill them?”

He stepped away from the door, unstrapped his holsters and
set them on the table next to the bed. “Would you believe me if I said no?”

“Don’t answer my question with a question. Just tell me if
you killed those men for no good reason.”

How could she think so little of herself? Keeping her safe
was a very good reason. Did she really believe she was worth so little that she
deserved to be mauled by drunks on the street?

It was time to set her straight on a few things.