Lawless (3 page)

The man was an enigma. If he was really ice cold and ruthless like every rumor she’d ever heard, why he hadn’t just gone ahead and taken what he wanted? Instead he’d gone to great lengths to fake sexually using her and actually apologized for that afterwards.

And he
had
wanted it. Her face heated when she remembered the hard bulge pressed at the juncture of her thighs, easily felt through the layers of their clothes. She’d spent most of her life on a working ranch and knew enough about the reaction of males to an available female to realize he hadn’t been indifferent to having her beneath him.

She shivered and felt his arm tighten just a fraction. That he was awake didn’t surprise her, for she had a feeling vigilance was what kept men like him alive. She desperately wanted to ask him if he meant what he said about returning her home, but it was clear he didn’t want to risk being overheard.

A twig snapped somewhere to their left and she felt the ripple of reaction in his tall body. Something gleamed and Laurel realized with a start he had a gun in his hand that fast. He went up on one elbow and stayed that way, taut and still. Heart pounding, she lay quietly and felt her mouth go dry with fear.

A moment later he relaxed and murmured almost inaudibly, “Just an animal. Though plenty of men I know fall into that category, I reckon. It’ll be dawn soon. You ought to try and get some sleep. We’re leaving and it’s a fair ride.”

Realizing he’d known she was awake was disconcerting, but the idea of leaving the camp was a relief, even if it was with a notorious outlaw. “Where?”

“You’ll find out. Sleep.”

It wasn’t exactly helpful advice. Laurel snapped out louder than she intended,

“Forgive me if I’m not used to lying on the ground, much less with a strange man.”

“Better get used to it.”

What did that mean? Her throat felt tight. “You said you’d—”

“Be quiet.”

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Lawless

The lethal warning penetrated her exhaustion and fear and she swallowed back a tart reply, wondering if he was still worried someone could hear them.

Riker said nothing else, just gave a small grunt as he lay back down that could mean anything. This time, he didn’t insistently pull her close and she felt the damp chill of the early morning penetrate through the blanket and her clothes. Cold and miserable, she lay there and wondered what was going to happen to her. Savior or living nightmare, she wasn’t sure just which the man next to her might be.

He was right, before long she heard the first twitter of a bird. As the sky lightened enough it was gray under the trees, she rose stiffly to her feet when he rolled out of bed, watching as he efficiently folded the blankets, his movements swift and sure. When he motioned to a bush a few feet away, she didn’t understand at first, but then flushed as she realized he wanted her to relieve herself.

There were some things that weren’t to be denied and she took advantage of the relative privacy. There was a small spring near where all the other men had sat around the fire the night before and she washed her hands and face in the cool, clear water, feeling a little more human. Raking through her long tresses as best she could to unravel the tangles, she warily watched as Cal Riker retrieved his horse from the makeshift corral and saddled it.

The only other person up was a thin, weathered man with the lean look of a starved wolf who sat on a stump by one of the cabins, rolling a cigarette with one hand. He watched Riker’s movements with hooded eyes as he lit the tobacco with an ember from last night’s fire. He coughed a couple of times, took out a kerchief and wiped his mouth, and asked, “You comin’ back, Riker?”

“Maybe.” In the early light, the notorious gunman looked implacable and distant.

“After this last job, we all need to lay low for a while.”

“Norton has plans for another one pretty soon.”

“Norton doesn’t have the same price on his head as I do. I’ll pass.”

“Just as well you don’t stay with us too long anyway,” the other man commented, his eyes glittering. “I have this ugly feeling we might come up against each other if we spend www.samhainpublishing.com 19

Emma Wildes

too much time in each other’s company. I’m itching to try you, to see if you’re as good as they say you are.”

“Help yourself.” Riker’s hands dropped to his sides in a deceptively casual movement.

“No thanks, Riker. Not this morning. Maybe someday, if we meet up again.”

“All right.” He turned back and adjusted the cinch. “I got no interest in a beef with you, Rollins. I’m just going to take the girl and stay out of sight for a bit. Let things settle down.” He glanced at where she stood by the spring. “Come here.”

Laurel fought a shiver as he looked at her, the order given without a hint of compassion. Those crystal clear eyes were the same color as a storm-filled sky and gazed at her with no visible emotion. With his hat shading his chiseled features and the lethal, graceful precision of his movements, he radiated danger.

The man who had touched her so gently and whispered an apology the night before seemed like an illusion.

The outlaw called Rollins gave her an amused look that might even have held a hint of pity, if it was possible in a man who spent his life stealing and killing. “You two have a good trip.”

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Lawless

Matthew Daniels dragged his hand over his face and paced to stare out the window.

The valley spread below, the vista for once not moving him, maybe for the first time in his life. It was beautiful, green and dotted with grazing cattle and some of the finest horseflesh in Colorado, and in the background, the Rockies rose high and magnificent, the peaks holding a hint of white even in early September.

“I don’t believe this.” His voice sounded dull and lifeless, even to his own ears. “She was supposed to be on the train.”

“Laurel
was
on the train, that’s the problem.” His son, Will, paced the length of the room, the faint musical jingle of spurs accompanying every restless step. “They robbed it and dragged her off. Witnesses say it was a big man with a scar, just like Norton’s description and God knows they’ve been robbing banks and trains all over the place lately.”

“Matthew!”

He understood both the horror and entreaty in his wife’s voice. He just wasn’t sure what he could do to fix this, and the idea his precious daughter was in the hands of a gang as lawless as the River Bend Outfit made his blood run cold. He turned, saw the streaks of tears on Jane’s face and felt a helpless rage against the animals who had kidnapped their child. “We’ll get her back.”

Even as he made the vow, an icy calm settled over him.

“How?” Will stopped roaming the room and his hand dropped to his gun in an unconscious gesture. “No one has been able to track them so far. Wherever they’re hiding, Pa, it’s hard to find.”

“We’ll search every damned inch of this state if we have to. I’ll hire men, offer a reward, whatever it takes. They’ve just crossed the wrong man.”

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Emma Wildes

Jane had been in the kitchen fixing breakfast when Will had come bursting in with the news of Laurel’s abduction, and she wiped her face with a flour-covered hand, leaving white, dusty streaks. “I cannot imagine how frightened she is.”

What he didn’t want to imagine was that filth touching his beautiful daughter. That was part of the problem, part of the reason he’d half hoped she’d decide to stay in Boston. By the time she was fifteen he’d been chasing off lovesick cowboys and now, at almost twenty, she was nothing short of stunning. Too pretty for her own good.

“I came here first, but I suppose I should go tell Wes Harper about this before he has to hear it from someone else.” Will wearily ran his hand through his fair hair, his clothes dusty from his all-out ride to the ranch. “He’s going to be fit to be tied.”

Considering the man claimed to love his daughter, Matthew certainly expected he would be. “I’ll go with you. I need to set things in motion right away.”

He walked over and kissed his wife’s cheek in an unspoken promise and then stalked from the room.

***

Cal didn’t follow the same route twice, ever. It was part ingrained self-preservation, part common sense, part the explorer in him that never failed, even at his darkest moments, to be moved by the beauty of the wild country that was as close to home as anything he could label as such. His childhood seemed like a distant, vague memory, and because of the path he’d chosen, he didn’t dare visit his family. These mountains at least gave him some peace.

Leaning one shoulder against a fragrant pine, he watched a herd of elk graze in a meadow full of knee-high grass and Indian paintbrush, the air carrying a crisp tang. The more miles between him and the River Bend camp the better, and he was actually starting to relax.

“You must think we’re being followed. That’s the third time you’ve doubled back.”

Well, he had to give the girl credit. After a few attempts at conversation, all of which he’d responded to with taciturn silence, Miss Daniels had given up and stayed quieter 22

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Lawless

than any female he’d ever encountered. They’d ridden for most of the day and he planned on going until dark, but his horse needed a rest and though she hadn’t complained once, he figured his companion might be grateful for a chance to stretch her legs.

With a small shrug, Cal said, “You can’t be too careful.”

Sitting on a smooth rock by a small, picturesque stream, Laurel looked composed, her long, tumbled golden hair lit by the setting sun. Even disheveled, wearing the same clothes she’d been forced to sleep in, somehow his captive still managed to look not only enticingly lovely, but also every inch a lady. Those blue eyes, framed by long lashes, seemed like they looked right through him. “I would expect that is your motto, Mr. Riker, or you wouldn’t still be alive.”

“You have that right, ma’am.” He lifted a brow.

“Since we’re finally speaking, do you mind telling me if you’re going to keep your word and take me home?”

It was only natural she’d ask that question, and he gave a brief nod. “I said I would.”

Relief crossed her delicate features and for the very first time, he saw the luminous gleam of tears. “Thank you.”

“In a few weeks.”

She blinked.

Cal shifted his weight, seeing the joy in her expression fade. “Look, I have something to do first. Unfortunately, you get dragged along for that because I don’t have time to ride a hundred miles and drop you off to your no doubt frantic family and still get my own business taken care of. Sorry, but that’s that.”

“More trains to rob? Someone out there you haven’t shot yet?”

The edge of sarcasm in her tone cut but he deserved it, and there was no doubt she was not only tired and hungry, but also confused. He couldn’t help but give a short laugh.

“Most grown men wouldn’t say something like that to me.”

“It isn’t like I have a lot to lose at this point.”

“You’re wrong there, Miss Daniels.”

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Emma Wildes

His direct reference to what hadn’t happened the night before made color rise through her slender neck and into her cheeks. She stared at him, her body tense. “I suppose you think I should thank you for not…taking advantage of me.”

“No, ma’am. No woman should have to thank a man for not raping her. Though you may find it hard to believe, I have a mother and two sisters. Whatever you may have heard about me, I’m a Texan and we respect women.”

There was a brief silence, and in contrast the rush of the water in the little brook seemed very loud. Her lacy lashes lowered a fraction. “Is that why you gave your friends the money?”

“If I hadn’t, last night might have been even less pleasant than it was, believe me.”

There was no way he could have stood by and let any woman be used by six men and do nothing, he didn’t care who she was. “And they are not my friends, in case you didn’t notice.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” She gave a small telling shiver of memory. “Suspicious of what?”

Momentarily puzzled, Cal just looked at her. “What?”

“Last night, when you whispered to me to play along, you said if they thought you weren’t going to…have me, they would be suspicious.”

He had said that, in retrospect. Slowly, he explained, “I suppose I meant suspicious I’m not as bad as I’m painted. The truth is, Miss Daniels, there is only one way to survive being associated with a group of men like the River Bend Outfit. They understand fear, brutality and a lack of respect for right and wrong. Their thinking doesn’t go much beyond that level, and if for a minute they thought I’d sacrifice my share of the haul from the robbery for your honor, they would reevaluate their opinion of my character, or let’s say, my lack of character.”

“I’m starting to think you are a somewhat complicated man.” She brushed at a tendril of silky hair that moved in the soft breeze across her smooth cheek and gave him a tentative smile.

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He wished to hell she hadn’t done it. It had been a long time since any woman had gazed at him with a soft light in her eyes. Yes, he’d had his share of ladies who liked his looks. It was just good sense to keep his mouth shut over who he actually was most of the time, but there were enough who thought his notoriety exciting too, which he found wrong in many ways. Not since he was a lot younger and less jaded had he experienced any kind of real connection besides a purely physical one.

This young woman wasn’t going to be good for his peace of mind. He’d known it the minute she was dragged off that train.

Trouble dogged him as it was, he didn’t need more of it.

More gruffly than he intended, he said, “Get up, we need to move on.”

***

Laurel was pretty sure her legs had stopped working, the irritating man refused to light a fire, and she had never been so dirty and tired in her life. Not to mention hungry, and all he’d offered for supper was cold beans, a few strips of dried meat and a hard biscuit.