Covington, Cara - Love Under Two Lawmen [The Lost Collection] (Siren Menage Everlasting) (18 page)

BOOK: Covington, Cara - Love Under Two Lawmen [The Lost Collection] (Siren Menage Everlasting)
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“Well, for one thing, no one would judge anybody else based on how they’re born or who they love. People would be free to make those choices and it would be no one’s never mind. And women wouldn’t be at the mercy of men—like Sarah was—and would be free to learn and grow and be all they wanted to be.”

“That’s pretty radical thinking there, Miss Dupree.” Warren’s voice teased. Then his expression sobered. “Quite frankly, these are thoughts that Adam and I have had ourselves.”

One of the most amazing things about these men was their willingness to discuss all manner of topics with her, be they mundane or fantastical. Not once had either of them made her feel inferior because she was a woman.

She smiled and picked up another piece of fish to nibble. Warren had already started the coffee brewing, and the scent of it pleased her nose.

“Radical,” Warren repeated, “but I think it could be done—on a limited scale, mind. If there’s one thing I’ve seen in life it’s that people who are rich seem to be able to get away with any damned thing they want. Seems to me if a body had enough money, they could build themselves an oasis—like a town that would be only open to a few people of like-mind. Hell, religious groups have been coming here from Europe and founding their own ‘societies’ since the Mayflower.”

“If you bought enough land, and kept it, only leased out some parcels to people who agreed to live by your rules…” Adam’s words trailed off. His gaze was on Warren. The way the two men sometimes read each other’s minds and finished each other’s sentences was downright eerie.

Warren nodded. “You can make that legally binding in a contract. You can rent or lease out parcels and make that a condition of the lease.”

“Be smart to keep hold of all the land, so your rules could never be changed. Something you could hand down to future generations.” Adam said

“Yeah.” Warren said.

Amanda thought it sounded as if they were actually working out a plan as they talked.

A shiver racked her, and she rubbed her bare arms to ward it off. After her swim, she’d donned just her chemise, and though the temperature of the air still felt warm, she was filled with a sudden chill.

“Cold, Mandy? We’ll warm you.” Warren’s deep voice turned her shivers to heat. He sidled over to her, his movement slow and deliberate. Before he even touched her, the heat of him sank into her, searing her flesh. She’d shied away from thinking of the future beyond this adventure, but already she wondered how she would be able to live without these two virile men once she returned home to Richmond and her life there.

Adam gave her a look that needed no words. Even as he moved closer, the scent of brewing coffee gave way to the scent of her lovers, and it was no longer the dark hot beverage she craved but the hot, hard pounding of their cocks.

Warren slipped his arm around her and pulled her toward him. His mouth, wet and open and demanding, settled on hers. His tongue claimed hers, swirling against hers, sliding along her teeth, reaching into the dark corners of her mouth, drinking her. Her heart sped, her blood thickened and heated as his flavor became hers, as she used her own tongue and lips and teeth to take as boldly, to delve beyond the threshold of passion into need.

Adam pressed against her other side and his hand stroking down her head compelled her to gently leave the lips of one lover to taste another’s. So different, yet the desire each stirred in her was the same—hot, vibrant, irresistible.

As her tongue danced with Adam’s, she reached her hands down to each side of her to caress and tease trouser-covered cocks. Twin ridges of masculine desire rose to her stroke, as if they were feral creatures seeking her feminine touch.

In the distance, thunder rumbled.

Amanda felt the change in her lovers instantly, even as she understood it wasn’t thunder she heard but the fast and heavy pounding of horses’ hooves.

“Oh, God. Amanda, get down!” Adam pushed her down toward the boulders behind them, even as he lunged for his rifle. Warren’s actions mirrored their lover’s.

A high-pitched trill pierced the air, one voice, followed by many taking up the battle cry. Gunfire exploded toward them out of the inky blackness of the night, followed by the ping of ricocheting bullets. Amanda crawled toward her rifle rather than the boulder. She rolled with it until she found a spot close to the rocks but in the open.

She stayed on her belly and aimed toward the unseen attackers.

The charging warriors never came close. It sounded as if a hundred men screamed and fired, a dozen horses cried into the night, a swarm of unseen attackers racing toward them, keeping just out of sight. The night cloaked them, and Amanda felt her heart pound, fear so intense she thought she might puke. The unseen enemy kept shooting toward the fire, and Amanda joined the men in shooting back, their shots going undirected into the blackness. She heard no sound of impact, no cries of pain, so she didn’t think she actually hit anyone or anything.

Then the bandits were gone, riding off in the same direction from which they’d come. The attack had happened and then passed so quickly, Amanda almost couldn’t fathom it.

“I thought I told you to get behind the boulders.” Adam’s attention stayed on the sound of retreating warriors, his gun held fast, aimed, ready.

Amanda ignored the implied scolding. She shot to her feet, rushing over to the men, her hands seeking one and then the other of them.

“You’re not shot? Not either of you?” Logic told her they’d escaped injury. She just needed to touch them to be sure.

Warren turned to her then, giving her the same hands-on inspection. “No, we’re fine.” He sighed heavily. “And so are you. Thank God.”

“I thought we were goners,” she admitted. Now that the crisis seemed over, she began to shake. When Adam reached for her gun, she handed it to him.

“We might still be,” Adam said gently. He pulled her to him and she went, not ashamed to accept the comfort now that the bullets were no longer flying. Warren pressed close, and for a long moment, they stood silent, one solid unit.

Adam’s words, however, chilled her, and finally she stepped back to meet his gaze. “Because they might come back?” She asked him.

“No,” Warren answered her. “Because they stole our horses.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 16

 

Colin wanted to kill Big Ben Bodine with his bare hands.

If he thought he could get away with it, he would shoot the bastard and his minions and count it a high point of his life.
 

As he thought over the last few days, Colin felt his choler rising. First, Bodine and his so-called partners had too much to drink in Denison, giving them all big heads and even nastier dispositions. They didn’t leave the frontier town until after noon the day after they’d arrived, which put them at least twenty-four hours behind the Dupree woman. Then they’d had to make camp after only a few hours on the trail so everyone could finish “recovering” from their drinking binge.

“Ain’t my fault! That whiskey was tainted, I swear to God!” Ira’s complaint may have had some merit to it as he puked his guts out around his words. By the time the man had finished throwing up, Colin had felt like joining in, even though he’d felt fine just minutes before.

Colin never drank to the point of intoxication. He’d seen too many men ruin themselves while foxed. He’d play cards with a drunkard and buy him drinks until he couldn’t see he was being taken, but Colin always limited his own imbibitions.

Then Bodine took two days to find the right trail to follow. One of the horses their prey had rented from the livery had a notch in one of its shoes. Once they realized that, it made following the party—three saddle horses and a pack horse—much easier.

They gained on them, but not fast enough to Colin’s way of thinking. Bodine’s best estimate put them two days behind their target, but Colin wondered about that. It seemed to him the whore and her escorts were making good time on the trail, judging on the distance between their camp sites—a distance that seemed longer than between the ones before they’d reached Denison.

“We’re going to catch them.” Bodine reined his horse back and began to keep pace with Colin. He lowered his voice as if imparting a confidence—or trying to gain one. “You want to get your own back against your missus. I want to get my hands on Kendall just as bad, if not more. I’m gonna make that bastard pay for those years he put me in prison. Dreaming of the day I would face that bastard down was the only thing what got me through.”

Colin looked over at Bodine. “That makes two of us who have an urgent need for revenge, and haste.”

“Aw, Ira and Porter, they’re okay. I’m going to make sure we move faster, on account of I can see your missus is riding better than she was. We’re probably a bit more than two days behind them, but if we pick up our pace, we should be able to catch up to them in a couple of days. It’ll hurt the horses, but I figure once we have them, the horses can rest, or we can just take theirs.”

With that, the man spurred his animal and reclaimed the lead. That he immediately set a faster pace appeased Colin somewhat. He could sympathize with his avowed need for revenge. Just the thought of spending any time in prison chilled his blood and curdled his belly.

Of course, he still wanted to kill Bodine.

I’ll likely have to once we find the gold, anyway
.

He didn’t trust his traveling companions one whit. The moment they saw that treasure, they’d be just as likely to try and kill him and keep it all to themselves.

So he’d have to manage the deed at some point after they caught up with the others. Colin kicked his horse to keep up with Bodine and let his thoughts slip into planning that man’s death.

Just before sunset, Bodine held his hand up. Colin had been thinking about the journal, and the gold, and killing Bodine. Now he looked around. Just ahead a lake stretched out as far as the eye could see. They’d been riding around the edge of a very large hill. Porter called it a mountain. Colin could have told him this rise in land was no real mountain.

“Wait here.”

Bodine’s order didn’t sit well, but Colin bided his time. He did note that Porter rode ahead with the outlaw while Ira stayed back with him.

“Porter says that’s Eufaula Lake. I ain’t never been this far into Indian Territory, myself. Bodine and Porter have. Porter says we got lots of water ahead of us if the assholes we’re following are headed to the Cherokee’s main city.”

“The Cherokee?”

“Yep. We’re on their land now.”

Colin watched Bodine approach. The man looked very pleased about something.

“Reckon we’re going to catch up to those bastards faster ‘n we figured. Looks like they’re on foot from this point on.”

“On foot? How the hell did that happen? And why not go after them
now
?”

“Looks like a bunch of other horses came upon them,” Bodine said. “Hoof prints are unshod, so I’m thinking Cherokee. Or more to the point, renegade Cherokee. The barkeep back in Denison told me about a band of ’em roaming these parts, stealing horses and whatever else they can get their hands on. Since it happened here, we’ll keep the horses close and sleep with one eye open.

“Saddles are dumped up ahead, against a tree. Some other things, too, and then beyond, you can see some foot prints. It’s going to be dark soon. They won’t walk in the dark.

“They’re ours now. All we got to do is get some rest and then run them down in the morning.”

 

* * * *

 

Despite the dire turn of events, Amanda found she’d been able to sleep, and sleep well. She knew the morning would bring facing the harsh reality of having to walk. Adam didn’t have any idea when—or if—they would come upon anyone who’d be able to help them.

As dawn broke, they rose, freshened themselves in the lake, then together looked through their gear.

“We’ll only take what’s necessary, what we can carry.” Adam’s expression revealed his worry, and Amanda wanted to do whatever she could to ease that.

“Let’s cut the ties from the saddles. We can use some to tie the saddlebags together. We can roll some things into the bedrolls and use a couple of ties there, too. If we all carry some,” she narrowed her gaze at both men, just in case they thought they would spare her from participating, “we should be able to manage quite a bit.”

Adam had his hands on his hips, his gaze on her when she finished speaking. Then he looked over at Warren.

“Bossy little thing, isn’t she?”

“I believe I noticed that right from the beginning,” Warren said.

Amanda didn’t care if they had a laugh at her expense. Now seemed like a good time for laughter.

“I take it you brought Pocahontas with you?” Adam asked.

In response, Amanda pulled the knife out of the sheath built into the side of her boot. Adam nodded, a pleased look on his face. They each began to strip what they could from their saddles. They’d have to be left behind, as they were far too heavy to carry, so it only made sense to use what they could from them.

“Son of a bitch,” Warren said. “Do you know that I’ve had this thing since I came to Waco and I’d
finally
gotten the damn thing broken in right?”

BOOK: Covington, Cara - Love Under Two Lawmen [The Lost Collection] (Siren Menage Everlasting)
6.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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