Devils on Horseback: Gideon, Book 5 (5 page)

“Why are you stopping?” she whispered harshly, then poked him in the back.

“Ouch. I’m stopping because we need to be sure there’s no one up there waiting for us. Now either shut up and stay behind me, or go back to your grandmother.” His tone was hard as stone. She needed to understand there was possible danger ahead.

She grunted in response, but she remained quiet and kept behind him. He would have stopped to think about the fact she obeyed his order, but there were other problems he needed to focus on.

Gideon closed his eyes and listened carefully. He heard only the sounds of the forest, from birds to squirrels to the creek. There was nothing larger than a rodent moving or breathing.

The silence lasted sixty seconds before she leaned forward and whispered, “What are you doing?”

“Listening, now shush.” Gideon’s tone hopefully told her to shut up as politely as he could.

He studied the ground in front of him, noting the broken branches, the small impressions in leaves on the soft soil beneath. These were signs of the girls, not an adult. He crept forward, very conscious of the woman nearly in his back pocket. Her body heat permeated his clothes all down his back. For such a small woman, she sure did generate a lot of warmth. He gritted his teeth and ignored the sensation.

As they crept closer to the creek, he slowed even further, looking at every sign left behind by the humans and animals that had come through. Five feet from the bank, there was a deep shoe impression on top of one of the girls’ shoe prints. Gideon’s heart did a flip at the sight—Granny had been right. Someone had been there besides them.

It was a single man, and his foot was just a little smaller than Gideon’s, definitely an adult. He favored the left side of his foot, as the impression was deeper on the right. Not many men walked in such a way, which should make it easier to find him. Probably was a bit pigeon-toed, if Gideon wasn’t mistaken.

He went around the footprint, noting another three before he reached the creek. That’s where the mud got thicker, and everything mixed together. Near as he could tell, the girls were on their haunches washing their hands when the man walked up behind them. There had been a struggle, and then he had jumped across the creek, making a much deeper impression.

The stranger had been carrying the girls.

He waded through the creek to the other side and saw clear evidence of two horses just beyond the edge of the prints.

The stranger had also not been alone.

Gideon’s fists clenched as he glanced back at Chloe. She didn’t appear scared or lost. In fact, she looked furious.

“Which way did they go?” Her harsh question scratched at his ears.

Gideon gestured north, where the tracks led. “They went that way, and there were two of them, likely both men. I’m going to get my horse and follow them.”

“Not without me, you’re not.” Chloe pointed at him. “They’re my family, not yours.”

He didn’t answer her, because the idea of her accompanying him was absurd. She had no horse, and his gelding couldn’t carry both of them at the speed he intended to ride. Gideon jumped across the water and headed back to the campsite.

“Don’t believe for one minute that I don’t know what you’re thinking. I can ride one of the mules—they’re faster than you think.” Chloe was taking two steps for every one of his, and she kept up without breaking stride. She was a fast little thing, even if her mule wasn’t.

“You need to stay here with your granny and wait for them to come back.”

“And you honestly believe those girls are gonna appear out of nowhere? They got taken, and you and I both know it.” She ran ahead of him, her arms pumping, skirt flapping, her wild hair flying like a banner behind her.

Gideon tried to catch up, but she had too much of a lead on him. She was fast, darting through the trees like a wood nymph. Although she was short, Chloe was a creature of grace when she ran. It sure as hell wasn’t the right time, but he appreciated the sight. He dug deep and found a burst of speed to catch up to her. Soon they were running dangerously fast on slippery, leaf-covered ground. For some absurd reason, he felt like grinning.

What the hell was he doing? Two little girls were missing, and he was playing games with Chloe. He shook off his own foolish behavior and refocused on the problem—finding the girls. When he and Chloe came out of the woods and into the clearing, he stopped short and stared.

Holy God.

The wagon, his horse and Granny Ruskin were gone.

Chapter Three

Chloe’s heart squeezed so tightly she could hardly catch her breath. In a matter of minutes, her entire family had disappeared. Was someone playing a cruel trick on her? The remnants of their life, the contents of the wagon, lay where they’d been stacked the day before in the grass. The campfire still burned, the coffee pot sat nearby, yet Granny was gone, as was the newly repaired wagon and Gideon’s horse. They’d left everything exactly as it laid waiting to be loaded, like a house had emptied itself and flown away into the bright blue sky.

A wave of anger welled inside her. Their journey hadn’t been perfect, but nothing had gone too terribly wrong until now, until Gideon Blackwood rode up to “save” them. Maybe he orchestrated the entire thing and was now planning on getting rid of her to make it complete.

“Where the hell is she?” Chloe had never been more furious in her life.

Gideon frowned at her. “How would I know? I was with you in the woods. In case you haven’t noticed, my horse is gone too.”

“You took them. Got into my drawers, distracted me and took my family, you bastard.” Red fury coated her vision as she stared at the man who may have destroyed all she had. No way would she accept the loss though. If she was anything, Chloe was a fighter, and she would fight for her tiny family. With a roar, she launched herself at him, taking him by surprise. She knocked him to the ground, and they rolled in the tall grass.

Snarling and snapping at him, Chloe tried her best to reach the knife in her boot; that way she could make him talk. However, he was too fast and knocked her hands aside so she didn’t have the chance.

“What are you doing?” He successfully grabbed her right hand, but she squirmed free. “Chloe, stop! I didn’t do anything to your family.”

“Yes, you did. Nothing happened until you got here.”

“That’s enough.” Gideon had apparently been trying not to hurt her, because in a split second, she was facedown in the grass with her arm twisted behind her and his knee resting on her back.

She had never experienced such fear and anger as she did at that moment. Alone in the Texas prairie with a stranger, one she’d bedded but a stranger still, Chloe was helpless. Her heart thumped so hard it hurt, and her breath came in short bursts. After a second or two of panic, Chloe reached down deep and found her determination, then let it loose. She wouldn’t stand for his bullying, not for an instant.

“Let me up,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Not unless you stop acting loco.” He was barely winded, the son of a bitch.

“Tell me where they are.” She tried to break his grip, but the man was obviously made of oak. She succeeded in almost breaking her own arm though.

“Stop moving or you’re going to hurt yourself.”

Chloe barked a laugh. “You’ve already done enough to hurt me.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you. Hell, I spent an entire day helping you. I do have honor, whether or not you believe that right now.” He eased his knee up. “I don’t know what happened to the wagon, my horse, the girls or Granny, but I promise you, I will find out.” She was surprised to hear sincerity in his voice along with a fierceness she hadn’t expected.

“Why should I believe you?” As the haze of anger faded, Chloe recognized she needed Gideon. Not only was she a woman alone, but she had no transportation—easy pickings for anyone with less-than-honorable intentions.

“I have no reason to lie to you.” He let her loose and stepped back, watching her. There was a stillness about him, as if he could have her on the ground again in seconds if he chose. Likely without much effort judging by how powerful and fast he had been.

It stuck in her craw. Chloe did not like being at anyone’s mercy.

She sat up and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “You have no reason to tell the truth either.”

“True enough, but I promise you, I did nothing to those girls or Granny, and I sure as hell didn’t make the wagon or my damn horse vanish.” He put his hands on his hips and looked around the clearing. “If you promise not to try to kill me again, I can track them.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you,” she mumbled as she got to her feet. If she killed him, she might not find out what happened to Granny and the girls.

Gideon crossed his arms. “I think you would have if you could have, but I can respect that. Family is important to me too.”

She brushed off most of the dirt and grass from her skirt. Gideon should have scared her. He was big, strong and fast, and could overpower her. Yet she wasn’t afraid of him; she was afraid of never finding her family. She’d never admit it to him, but she did believe he had honor, that he would help her and, grudgingly, that she shouldn’t have accused him of wrongdoings. Unless he had a hidden partner, there was no way he could have done any of it. She wasn’t about to apologize, though—it might kill her to try.

“Get to tracking.” Chloe’s throat tightened as she walked toward the campfire.

“We need supplies. If we go after them with nothing but the clothes on our backs, we won’t last more than a day.”

“Maybe they only have a day.” Chloe didn’t want to add they might only have hours. The very thought made her want to vomit.

Gideon looked like an immoveable wall of man. “We are no good to them unless we’re ready. We have no water, no food. Hell, we don’t even have something to lie on to sleep.” He pointed at the furniture. “I’m guessing there are linens and such. We’ve got five minutes to see if we can make some packs to carry what’s left of the supplies. Maybe we can even find a blanket or two if we’re lucky. Go clean up the supplies by the fire while I search for things we can use. Five minutes, no longer.”

“You give too many orders.”

He had turned away, heading toward what was left of her family’s goods, but he must have heard her anyway, because his shoulders stiffened. “Maybe you ought to follow some.”

Chloe wanted to tear off after Granny and the girls, but she knew he was right. Emotion had gotten in her way, more like overwhelmed her. She’d never been so scared in her life, even when she’d been in danger. Those girls had been through a lot. Although they were a handful, they deserved a loving home and a family. They sure as hell didn’t deserve to be kidnapped and have awful things done to them.

That was what was making her mind whirl—what might be happening to her family while she cleaned up the coffee pot and dishes. She used sand to wipe off the remnants of breakfast, trying not to think of which one of the girls had made that very mess. Chloe would
not
cry over this. She would be strong and smart, with or without Gideon’s help.

Gideon searched through the furniture piece by piece. He focused on the task itself, not on why he was doing it. Admitting he allowed someone to steal two children, an old woman, a wagon with four mules and his horse right out from under his protection was almost incomprehensible. He was one of the most decorated captains in the Confederate army, led so many raids he lost count and had survived four years of hell on earth.

Now he’d lost an entire family while he had been thinking about the woman he’d bedded the night before.

Shame mixed with anger and frustration. The last day had left him with a bad taste in his mouth for more than one reason. Everything had gone horribly wrong, and he had to take responsibility for that. He was a trained soldier with enough sense to control himself. Yet he’d thrown all that away, forgotten who he was and who he should be, all because of his weakness for a tiny curmudgeon with freckles and a big mouth.

Gideon ached to be back in Tanger at the restaurant, doing nothing but enjoying the coffee and the company. He couldn’t even go back to Tanger for help. If they didn’t get moving and soon, they’d lose the trail and possibly those girls. They had no choice but to follow and hope like hell they didn’t find themselves completely outnumbered. If Gideon could get to a telegraph office, he could have four Devils by his side in less than a day. But for now, he had to go on a mission without his friends to help him.

He reached down deep in himself and searched for that iron control, that which made him who he was, what he was. There hadn’t been a dangerous situation in his life he hadn’t been able to conquer. Chloe had stolen some of the thunder from within him, how he had no idea, but he needed to find it again. He had to ignore his foolish obsession with the woman and clamp down on his wayward emotions until he regained control of them. Their lives depended on it.

More focused, he was able to search faster. In a chest, he found two blankets, a quilted bag, a burlap sack and a leather pouch they might be able to use for water.

Chloe walked up beside him and noted the pile of goods. “Let me take that quilted bag and pack up the cooking supplies. There’s some flour, coffee and jerky. Everything else is gone.” Her voice was tighter than a tick’s ass but not emotional. Thank God. He needed her to stop fussing and start helping.

“Are there sewing notions anywhere?”

She shook her head. “Sewing kit is under the wagon seat, wherever the hell that is.”

“Shit. That will make things difficult. I’m going to tear up one of these sheets, if you don’t mind, to make straps for a sack.”

“They ain’t doing me no good. They were Granny’s mother’s anyway. God knows I ain’t slept on ’em.” She didn’t even look at the linens. In fact, she kept her gaze somewhere over his left shoulder.

He held up the ancient canteen he’d found hidden in one of the drawers, no bigger than his hand. “I came across one thing to carry water, but it’s not much. Do you know if there’s anything else hidden in here?” He glanced around at the furniture.

She shook her head. “Granny packed most of this. I never even saw that canteen before.”

“Then make sure you check the barrels for anything useable. I’ll get started making a sack and fill the canteen.”

With a nod, she went back to the fire with the bag in her hand. Gideon imagined she was complaining about his highhandedness. Too bad. If they had any chance of catching whoever took her family, she was gonna have to get used to it.

Captains didn’t stand for soldiers who didn’t take orders.

* * * * *

The wagon was large, pulled by four mules, with a horse trailing behind—spotting the path was easy enough for anyone to find. Chloe wanted to point out the fact Gideon was doing nothing she couldn’t have done, but she held her tongue. No need to rile the bear any more that morning. It was hard enough knowing her family was missing and in danger. She didn’t need to start another argument with him.

Fear for Granny and the girls coated her tongue. God only knew who had taken them and why. Chloe figured the girls had been taken to be traded or sold, but why Granny? She was old, her hands didn’t work good, and she was ornery. Maybe the girls were putting up such a fuss, they decided to bring along someone to watch them. For that, they needed the wagon. That made sense, even if it made her want to tear someone’s arms off.

Bastards left her with hardly anything but the furniture she couldn’t carry on her back. Likely everything they’d left behind would be either destroyed or long gone if—
when
—they returned to get it. Gideon had made some ingenious sacks from the linens while she had put the plates, dented coffee pot and the meager food supplies in the bag. They were currently clanking on her back as they walked.

He carried the sack he made, stuffed with two blankets and whatever else he scavenged from her family’s belongings along with the tiny canteen. She didn’t want to be annoyed by the fact he had gone through all their things, even if it had been necessary. Yet she was, just the same. As they walked away, she could hardly look back at what lay behind them. Her life had exploded into pieces, and what was left had been scattered around the tall grass in a field in eastern Texas.

It was almost too much to bear.

She swallowed the huge lump in her throat with effort. Chloe had been independent all her life. Being dependent on someone else, a man she had given herself to twelve hours earlier, was far outside her imagination, and she didn’t know how to behave. He was cold and bossy now, barking orders at her. Good thing she was more worried about her family than his rude behavior.

Worry was something she didn’t do well. She needed to find something solid to focus on, or she might start howling.

“Do you know where the next town is?” She looked ahead across the gently rolling hills and prairie and saw nothing but trees. Chloe needed to know exactly what they were doing—that would be what she hung on to, to maintain control of her emotions.

“Ahead.”

Chloe counted to ten. “How long will it take us to get there?”

“Depends on how fast you walk. I can make it twenty miles in a day, but I doubt you can.”

Chloe counted to ten again. “How many miles do we need to walk to get to the next town?” There, that ought to be simple enough for him to understand.

“A lot.”

Her patience snapped, and she wagged her finger at his broad back. “I can keep up with any pace you set, Blackwood. Stop being such an ass. Just tell me how many miles it is and what the name of the town is.”

He stopped and pivoted to look at her. “I don’t know. You happy? I rode this trail more than a year ago, and things change. Most times I stay put because I have a restaurant to run. I’m following the tracks, nothing more. If we find a town, then I can wire for help. If we find the bastards that took everything, I can kill them and ride for help.” He stepped close enough she could see a drop of sweat meandering down his whiskered cheek. “Anything else you need to know?”

The man was bigger than life, bossy and absolutely the most impressive thing she’d seen in her life, especially when he was mad. This wasn’t the place or time to be attracted to him, but it was happening anyway. Her body was already warm from the pace Gideon had set with his long legs, and now he’d set a fire burning low and deep in her belly. Her thoughts scattered like dandelion puffs in the breeze.

She struggled to find something to say, anything to take her mind off the man. At least he had distracted her from worrying. “Do you have a weapon?”