Brody (11 page)

Olivia was able to block the pain by thinking about family and home—the good times and the fun times, even a few hard times. All of it kept her mind occupied as they trudged through the night toward nowhere.

Hours later, Brody stopped. She almost ran into him and the horses shied away from each other, smart enough not to bang heads. Olivia was numb from the waist down and her legs wobbled so much she nearly fell face-first into the ranger’s back.

“What the hell are you doing, Liv?”

“I was about to ask you the same question.” She gritted her teeth. No need to remind him how annoyed she was at him. There was no point in fighting. She needed him and she wanted to think he needed her, at least a little.

“We’re far enough away from the river that we can ride the horses.” He was speaking low, near her ear. His warm breath sent shivers down her neck. “We are about two hours from the pueblo we need to get to. We’re going to ride at a trot. Too slow or too fast and we’ll call attention to ourselves.”

Olivia nodded, although she realized he couldn’t see her. “Then what?”

“You ask too many questions.”

“I want to be ready if we run into trouble.” She pressed her fist into her growling stomach. “I need to know what to do. When to pull out my pistol. When to run like hell.”

He stared at her, six inches from her face. His breath smelled of coffee and something else she couldn’t define. Olivia felt the urge to kiss him, not exactly an opportune time to do so. Some moments he was perfect, a man she could love so easily, and some moments she wanted to run from him.

“I need to know,” she repeated. “Please.”

His breath gusted past her cheek. Her body shook with all the emotions racing through her from head to foot. What was happening?

“I need ...” She couldn’t even find the right words to say what she needed.

“Me too.” He cupped her cheek, his thumb rough against her skin.

This was loco. They were in the middle of Mexico, in danger and she was about to kiss him. Or he was going to kiss her. Either way, they shouldn’t even be thinking about kissing.

His lips brushed over hers once, twice, three times. She turned into a beacon of heat, her discomfort completely forgotten. His arms crept around her, pulling her closer, even as she leaned into him.

Yes, this was it.
This
.

His body was so warm, so hard. She sighed at the familiar heat between them, so easily sparked. He pulled her even closer, pressing his chest into hers. Her nipples peaked immediately, aching against the minimal clothing separating them. A moan crept up her throat, but she swallowed it back down.

Just as his mouth was going to close over hers, Mariposa pushed against Olivia’s back, shoving her into Brody. He pulled away from her, his breathing uneven.

“Um, we need to get going.” He cleared his throat and turned to his horse.

“Wait.”

“What?” He sounded unfocused, so very unlike the stoic ranger.

“I still need to know what to do.” She touched the pistol tucked into the waistband of her skirt. “Do I hide the pistol or keep it visible? What if someone talks to me? Do I answer in Spanish or English?”

He threw himself up onto his horse. “You ask too many questions. Just follow my lead and let’s go.”

This was definitely one of those times she wanted to simply run from him, to go home and be safe with her brothers and sisters and Eva. To escape from the incredible, intense way Brody made her feel.

It would be a cowardly thing to do. Olivia was no coward. She would stay and she would fight. Benjy needed her.

They traveled for hours in silence. That was what Brody wanted, for her to be quiet, so she was. And stewed in her own annoyance and fear the entire time. If only he’d just told her what she wanted to know, she’d feel more comfortable.

Instead, she had to wonder exactly what was in store for them and how she should act. She’d just have to watch him and hope she didn’t make a mess of things. The murky shadows of buildings rose in the distance and Olivia’s throat tightened at the sight.

It was almost time.

“Is that it?” She couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“Yes. It’s Fogata.”

“Bonfire” was an unusual name for such a dark, tiny place. She knew what lurked beneath the shadowed exterior could be a lot worse than the name Bonfire.

“Who are we?”

“I hope you’re not asking because you’ve gone loco and can’t remember.” The man just couldn’t seem to help himself.

“No, because I thought you might want us to be someone we’re not once we get there.”

Brody didn’t answer, not a surprise. He kept the horses at a slow trot, even though she wanted to ride hell for leather toward the pueblo.

As she watched, heart pounding, mouth dry, they reached the outskirts of town. Olivia stared at the rough-hewn boards held together with rusty-headed nails. There were scrubby bushes around the outside, along with various sizes of succulents, rocks and dry grass.

Not so different from any town in southern Texas.

She managed to swallow dry spit although it tasted like dirt and anxiety.

Brody led them around to the end of the buildings, then turned left to ride into the town. Her damp palms slipped easily on the reins. She tugged to get a better grip, which made Mariposa shake her head in protest.

“Sorry, girl.” She patted the horse’s neck in apology.

The town appeared deserted except for the light spilling out onto the street from a single building. The number of horses out in front and guitar music marked it as a tavern. It was the only two-story building and the second floor was also lit, although not as brightly. She suspected the soiled doves were plying their trade up there while the drinking and carousing happened downstairs.

Again she was reminded of any small town in Texas, so familiar yet foreign. Brody headed straight for the tavern and she had no choice but to follow him, even though she wanted to go anywhere else.

As they stopped outside the tavern, each note of music plucked at her nerves.
Twang, twang, twang.

“Stay at my side, no matter what.” Brody spoke under his breath as he dismounted. “Keep your mouth shut unless I ask you a question.”

Olivia was so nervous she couldn’t be annoyed at him for his bossiness. She just nodded and dismounted beside him.

He tugged her hat down a smidge, and spread her hair out on her shoulders. A hysterical laugh bubbled up her throat when he spread her shirt open even further. Here she was getting half-naked again in front of him. What was it about Brody Armstrong that made her bare herself?

“Keep your gun tucked in under your blouse in your waistband. Don’t take it out.”

“Then why do I have it with me?” She shivered in the cool night air, realizing her feet still hurt from the water in her boots.

“Because you can’t leave it with your horse.” He stared down her shirt, his breath gusting onto her skin. She could tell he was thinking he shouldn’t have brought her with him. Olivia didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Let’s go.”

Although her feet didn’t drag, she felt as though she was walking through molasses anyway. As they walked through the door, she noted there were a great many spots on it that looked like knife marks. Just what she needed to see.

There came that crazy laughter trying to escape again. The normal Olivia had been left behind in the warm currents of the Rio Grande. This new woman, who had darkened skin and carried a gun, was someone completely new. She didn’t know if she liked herself remade or not.

It was apparent Brody didn’t like either version.

The interior was lit by a dozen lanterns scattered around the room, throwing pools of yellow light around the tables they sat on. There were at least a dozen men and three women, including an enormous man behind the bar and an equally skinny man with a guitar.

All of them turned to look at the newcomers.

Olivia opened her mouth to speak.

C
HAPTER
S
EVEN

B
rody knew he should have gagged her and left her outside. The damn woman couldn’t take a simple order and obey it. No, she had to go ahead and do exactly what he told her not to. He suspected she did it deliberately to prove a point. If Olivia didn’t have every last bit of detail about every last thing, she nagged until the other person’s ears bled and they gave in.

He had refused to do that, choosing to keep his plan to himself. All she had to do was stand at his side and keep quiet. It was obvious that wasn’t going to happen since she opened her mouth as soon as they walked in.

“Buenas noches, señors y señoritas.”
With a sway to her hips that made Brody’s eyes widen, she stepped over to the bar. She looked every bit the seductress. “Whiskey.”

The buffalo behind the bar spilled at least half a shot of whiskey because he was staring at Olivia. There appeared to be a line of drool coming out of the left side of his mouth too. Brody didn’t blame him one bit. Olivia screamed for attention with every inch. Jesus.

“You lost,
hombre?
” A man in the back of the tavern spoke. He was dressed in black, similar to Brody, but his clothes were rougher looking. The stranger wore a black, flat-brimmed hat, which shaded his face. This was the man in charge, the one Brody had to watch.
“Tu chica es muy guapa. ”

Pretty? Hell, Olivia was simply gorgeous. She had a natural sensuality that had been hidden by her smart mouth and prim clothes. Now she made his cock hard without even trying. He had felt in control before they walked across that damn river. Now he was hanging on by his fingernails, lost in a twister named Olivia.

“
Sí,
but she’s
mine
.” The words crept out through Brody’s clenched teeth. Not only did they sound real, they felt real.

“Mmm, you shoot knives from your eyes,
señor
.” The stranger took a tug from the bottle of whiskey in front of him. “I ask you again, you lost?” The man’s voice was calm, not cold but very controlled.

“No. I’m looking for somebody. You Rodrigo?” As soon as Brody dropped the name, the entire mood in the room changed. Tension replaced uneasy curiosity and he had to hold back the urge to pull his gun. Instead, he just kept his hand on the butt, his gaze locked on the man he assumed was Rodrigo.

The name was the right one judging by the reaction it got. Olivia was murmuring to the buffalo but everyone else was staring at him, even the whores.

“You came here to die,
señor
? You walk in my tavern with a
pistola
and disrespect me?” The man got to his feet and Brody sized him up. The Mexican was obviously strong, with muscled arms and legs, shoulder-length black hair and one missing pinky finger. A man who had lived life on the edge

“I do not disrespect you.” Brody managed to sound calm, although he knew at any second, he and Olivia could be stains on the floor amidst the dirt and grime. “I came to do business with you.”

“Business? Who tells you I would do business with a gringo?” Rodrigo’s laugh didn’t have an ounce of humor in it.

“Jeb Stinson.” As soon as Brody said it, the dangerous amusement in the stranger’s face vanished. “I came to pick up where he left off.”

There were so many things that could happen. Brody knew he’d gone far beyond what he was authorized to do as a Texas Ranger. Hell, he was so far off the map, he was literally and figuratively in another country.

The question he didn’t ask himself was why. Brody could have stayed in Texas and waited for Chavez and the rest of the crew to make another run at a ranch. He could have waited for the court to decide Stinson’s guilt. He could have asked for another assignment. But he hadn’t.

Armstrong had been investigating five of the ranch attacks for eight months. The attacks always came when the hands were out on the range, so it was someone who knew the comings and goings of the ranchers. Therefore the gang was in Texas, not Mexico. Someone had been buying the land either left behind by the dead or sold by the ones who ran. The mastermind was Jeb Stinson, but two more attacks had been carried out since his arrest.

Hell, the man had had his own sister killed. Whoever he rode with was worse than anyone Brody had come up against.

That still didn’t answer the question of why he had followed this case into Mexico. Was it just for Olivia? Or because whoever these men were, they killed women, took at least one if not two children, and burned what they could. These acts were cowardly and malicious, and darker than the blackest night.

Brody didn’t think of himself as a hero, far from it, but he would not let this type of crime go unpunished. It was a matter of honor and doing what was right. If his brothers had taught him anything, it was that. He carried their honor with him now and everything he did held true to their beliefs.

Rodrigo watched him like a predator, with the eyes of a man who sized up his enemies the same way he did his allies. After a few excruciatingly long minutes, he finally spoke.

“I hear of this Jeb Stinson. I also hear he is dead, hanged until his neck snap.”

Brody kept his face still, showing no flicker of a reaction. “That’s why I said I wanted to pick up where he left off.”

“You would step over his body?”

“Someone has to.” Brody pulled out a cheroot from his shirt pocket slower than a snail on cold dirt. As he lit it, he kept his gaze on Rodrigo.

“What do you know of Jeb’s, ah, business?” From the other man’s accent, or rather the lack of a thick accent, Brody would bet money he was not born in Mexico. His English was too smooth.

“I know where he hit, what he took, who he took, and where he brought it.” Brody took a long tug from the cigarillo. “I need you to buy it from me now.”

Rodrigo took another drink of whiskey. That’s when Brody realized everyone was watching them. Olivia stood behind him, her hands on his chair. He dared not look at her.

Shit, he didn’t even want to break wind.

“You and your
chica,
you stay here for a couple days and enjoy my hospitality.” Rodrigo smiled at Olivia, his teeth white and shiny in the dim light. “We get to know each other and then we can discuss business.”