Covington, Cara - Love Under Two Lawmen [The Lost Collection] (Siren Menage Everlasting) (24 page)

“I’m sorry you got hurt.” She looked up at him then. “You scared the hell out of us, Adam. We were afraid we were going to lose you.”

“Yeah, I got that.” He reached for her and drew her in close to him.

His arms felt tentative around her, and she made her grip, when she returned his hug, just as gentle.

“How are you holding up?” he asked her after a few moments.

Warren came over to them and laid one hand on Adam’s back and one hand on hers. The expression in his eyes spoke of the same tender concern she’d heard in Adam’s voice. She didn’t pretend not to know what he was asking—what they both wanted to know.

“I killed a man last night,” she said softly. “And I know, if I hadn’t aimed my gun and pulled the trigger, that man would have killed one or both of you. He had you both in his sights. I hate that I had to do that. But I’d do it again, in a heartbeat, if it meant saving either of your lives. So I’m okay with it.”

“Thank you for saving my life. Both of you.”

The moment was drifting into the emotional. Amanda couldn’t go there. Adam and Warren would spend the rest of their lives together. She was only a temporary part of them, a transitory member of their world. Time to change the mood.

“You know,” Amanda stepped back and gave him what felt like a smug smile, “there are some very old cultures in the world that hold once a person’s life has been saved, it belongs to the rescuer.”

“Is that a fact? My, my, Miss Dupree, you certainly are a storehouse of information.”

Amanda couldn’t hold back her smile. Adam returned her teasing, accepting her movement away from the emotional, and she felt so grateful she could have kissed him.

Amanda shrugged. “What can I say. My mother—”

“Saw to it you had lessons,” both men finished for her.

“Yeah.” She smiled, then gestured toward the wood she’d gathered. “Let’s have some coffee and food.”

Warren nodded. “Good idea. And we’ll see if our wounded warrior can put a few more hours in the saddle before we call it a day.”

Amanda caught the grim expression in Adam’s eyes.

“Bet your ass I can put in a few more hours. The farther and faster we travel, the better I’ll feel.”

Amanda doubted that. But there could be no denying the man had grit. They both did. She marveled that she could love them both so much. It was just a damn shame she couldn’t keep them.

Chapter 21

“I should have killed that bastard when I had the chance.” Bodine managed to work up a spit, sent it streaming to the dusty earth.

He hated having to bury Porter and Ira in the middle of Goddamn Indian Territory. Poor dumb bastards didn’t deserve to get dead. He hated having to walk. But most of all, he hated Adam Goddamned Kendall.

“I haven’t seen any sign of the horses.”

Bodine hated the fancy-ass easterner, too. He looked at the sun overhead, wondered how hot the day was going to get. He’d heard stories that starving people had feasted on other people when they got desperate.

He slid his glance over to Colin Baker and knew that would be a better fate than the prick deserved.

There wasn’t much good about the situation he was in at the moment. Except, of course, he wasn’t in prison anymore.

“Good thing we took the bedrolls and the canteens off the horses,” Baker said.

“How come you’re acting like this is a walk in the park?” Bodine wondered if the man had any idea just how dire the situation was.

Out in the middle of Indian Territory, where settlements were few and far between, not having a horse could very well result in death.

“Well, things have gotten about as bad as they can get,” the fool answered him. “I figure I’m due for some good luck. And, with the beating we gave that Ranger, if they’re moving at all, it’s not very fast, so they can’t be getting all that far ahead of us.”

Bodine wondered if the man hadn’t finally gone plum
loco
.

“Good luck, huh?”

“I’m counting on it.”

A few hours later, they came to a small pond with a few trees growing on one end of it. The remains of a campfire told Bodine this was likely where those bastards had camped the night he and his men had grabbed Kendall.

“They left firewood,” Baker said. He scanned the area, and Bodine wondered what he was looking for. It was afternoon, and in the time they’d been walking, sure as hell the others had been riding. They probably thought they’d gotten clean away.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt for them to be thinking that.

The only hope Bodine had was he was pretty certain he knew where they were headed. He just wasn’t certain why.

He didn’t think Baker realized Bodine had heard every word he’d said to Kendall. Though he’d never had much schooling, Bodine wasn’t as stupid as Baker seemed to think he was.

The woman the easterner was after sure as hell wasn’t his wife, but she had something—some journal—he was desperate to recover.

From what he’d gathered listening in, that journal wasn’t Baker’s personal property so it likely didn’t contain anything that could send the man to jail if discovered. It probably contained mention of an inheritance, likely told of where some stash of gold or gems had been hidden.

Bodine didn’t need all the details right away. He figured whatever it was this prick beside him was chasing after it was here in Indian Territory and not back in Richmond Virginia.

Bodine knew a few folks in Tahlequah. They’d be willing to help him track down Kendall out of outrage over the killing of Porter and Ira, sure, but also for a piece of whatever that treasure was.

The killing of Baker was a treat he’d keep all to himself.

“I don’t know how much farther I can walk today,” Baker said, and Bodine had to blink to get the sweet picture of the man, gutted like a rabbit, out of his mind.

“Well, there’s fire wood and water here. We got our bedrolls.” Bodine dropped the bundle he’d carried over his shoulder, thanks to Ira’s belt. He’d taken it off the man before he’d covered him in rocks. Didn’t think his friend would have need of it anymore. “We could call it a day. If you get the fire going, I’ll see about scaring up a rabbit.”

“Hell, I’d even eat another snake,” Baker said.

Bodine got lucky and caught a fat, juicy rabbit. Before long, the smell of roasting meat made his taste buds water. He only regretted they didn’t have coffee or beans to go with the meat. They’d lost what few supplies they had left when the horses got run off. But rabbit roasted on sticks and water from the pond filled the belly, and was a mite tastier meal than he had any night in prison.

Bodine went to sleep with his gun by his side and slept with half an eye open, just in case Baker had been entertaining thoughts of gutting
him
—except he didn’t think the little prick would ever get his hands dirty.

Breaking camp the next morning didn’t require a lot of work. Roll up his bed and start walking. Bodine’s feet and legs were still sore from the day before. He looked over at Baker, shaking his head when that man began to whistle.

If Baker didn’t stop being so cheerful, Bodine figured he might just kill the bastard for that alone.

Sometime later, when the sun crept half-way to noon in the sky, Bodine’s gaze wandered to the horizon ahead. His feet stopped of their own accord as his brain tried to make sense of what his eyes saw in the distance.

Baker had stopped as well and seemed equally confused about the sight coming toward them.

Bodine heard something then, and he listened hard because he wasn’t altogether certain he wasn’t having one of those strange mirage things he’d heard about. Glancing at Baker, he could see that the other man seemed to be hearing the same thing if the look of confusion on his face was anything to go by.

The vision, and the sound, came closer. He listened, and listened hard, and eventually the sound became words.

“I tell you, Emmaline, I am so
dang
disappointed after all the talk I done heard about the gold hiding out here on Indian land. I surely don’t know where else to look. We only got one stick of dine-o-mite left, so we got to be careful, real careful, where we toss that last one. And anyways, we got to find the fellers who lost these here horses first. ‘Taint right, if’n a body has a chance to do a good deed and doesn’t why, that’s just asking to be sent to you-know-where after ya die!”

A soft braying sound followed this statement.

Bodine turned to look at Baker.

“I told you we were due for some good luck,” Baker said.

Bodine just shook his head as the strange procession—a grizzled old man leading a burro and two horses—came closer.

At that moment, the old man must have seen them, because he stopped and turned to his burro.

“See that, Emmaline? I
told
you we was going in the right direction.” Then he raised his hand in greeting. “Hey, there! You fellers lose a couple of horses?”

* * * *

Amanda stretched her back, the soreness from days of riding sitting low and mean on her hips. She’d never really believed the male was the strongest of the species, leastways not the human species. The behavior she’d witnessed growing up in Richmond as her mother’s daughter had, in fact, convinced her that over all, men were soft creatures and not very bright to boot.

Guess none of
them
were real men
.

She cast a glance over to Adam, who rode on her left. Just a couple of days ago, he’d been beat nearly senseless, could barely sit on his horse. Now the only sign of that adventure was the slight scab on his lip and a bit of bruising around his eye.

The sun hung low in the sky, and the scent of a river teased her nostrils. She really hoped they were going to camp soon because she’d just about had it.

“Just up ahead,” Adam said, proving once more he could practically read her mind.

“Good.” She figured she didn’t need to act tough. “I don’t know why I’m so beat today.”

Warren snorted. “During your days you’re riding your horse, and at night—except for the last two—you’ve been riding us. Doesn’t surprise me. Maybe we should just let you be tonight.”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Amanda said.

Both men grinned equally devilish grins. “Just teasing, sweetheart,” Warren said.

The land looked rockier here, with ridges and rises that seemed to go every which way. It simply amazed her that Adam knew where they were, that he could follow any kind of trail.

“Here, sweetheart, come look at this.”

She hadn’t noticed Adam pulling the map Chief Smith had given him out of his saddle bag. She nudged her horse—a mare she’d named Virginia just to make her lovers laugh—and moved over closer to Adam. Warren brought his horse around the other side of him, so they were like three points of a triangle.

We’re so damn connected I don’t know how we’re going to separate
.

The growing intimacy worried her. But this wasn’t real life. This was an adventure, and nothing they’d done or said so far had convinced Amanda that this bond they’d formed was anything but temporary.

Once they got back to civilization, once these two men returned to their lives and their town, she knew there’d be no room for her. How could there be?

“Amanda?” A note of worry laced Adam’s voice.

She shook her head and brought her gaze back to the moment. “Sorry.”

“Look,” he pointed to a spot on the map that looked like a crescent moon. When she then raised her gaze and looked ahead and to the left, her eyes widened.

“Oh, my goodness! It’s just like he drew it!”

“Yeah, I figure fate finally decided to lend us a hand in order for us to come out right here. I think we’re close. Let’s ride a bit farther over to that ridge and see if we can see the other ridge, the one that starts near the tip of that one and goes east. It’s looking like another hour, maybe. If we can’t see anything, we’ll double back to that river, make camp.”

Amanda’s weariness slid off her at the prospect of being so close to their goal.

They nudged their horses and began riding again, and when the trail narrowed and climbed upward, Adam took the lead, with Warren bringing up the rear. She thought perhaps that having lost their horses and ending up with these Indian ponies had been a blessing in disguise. Virginia didn’t seem to have any trouble whatsoever picking her way among the rocks, and not for one moment did Amanda feel as if she might end up on the ground.

The crescent-shaped ridge turned out to be longer that it had looked, but gradually, they came to the edge of it.

Adam stopped his horse and turned in his saddle, waiting for her and Warren to catch up. She didn’t need to look at the landscape. All she needed to see was the smile he wore. Her eyes took in the land, anyway.

Just ahead and to their right, a small flat mesa stretched out, a pretty piece of ground with some trees and a stream meandering down between this ridge they were on and the next. That larger, higher piece of rock ran east to west, and even from where she sat, she could see what looked like a dark shadow in the rock, with a small scrub bush growing next to it.