Devils on Horseback: Gideon, Book 5 (7 page)

The tracks in the road gave her something solid to hold on to. Two of the mules had nicks in their shoes, and their progress was easily marked. The one thing she was glad of was having someone to travel with, even if he was the last person she expected to be with when she woke up yesterday.

Life wasn’t done throwing mountains in her path yet.

Chapter Four

After plodding along for three hours, Gideon regretted giving her back the pouch. The water in the tiny canteen was gone, and they hadn’t found much more than puddles long since turned to mud. He was thirsty, tired and knew they’d need to find water soon, or they would have to stop for the day.

It was early afternoon, and the late spring heat permeated the air. His shirt stuck to his back beneath the pack he wore. Trickles of sweat meandered down his cheeks and neck. He would pay good money for a bucket full of well water to dunk his head into, hell, to douse his whole body with.

Maybe they’d get lucky and find something around the next copse of trees. Of course, as a soldier, he didn’t believe in luck. He had to make his own, which meant they might have to change their plan.

Chloe looked as bad as he felt. Her hair was hanging in strings, her dress was in even worse shape than before and her expression was pinched. They needed water in the worst way. Much as she might not like it, he’d have to break off tracking the wagon.

“We need to find fresh water, or neither one of us is going to be any good.” He took off his hat, almost moaning as the small breeze caressed his sweat-soaked brow.

“There will be some along the way. This trail is well used, and folks ain’t gonna use it if they can’t find water.” She plodded along at a steady pace without turning in his direction.

Gideon silently agreed with her. “That might be so, but I’ve seen a couple of dry creek beds along the way. It’s also possible this trail hasn’t been used in a while because the water dried up.”

“It doesn’t matter if it did. We can keep going without it.”

“No, we can’t.” He took hold of her arm to stop her. “You look like you’re about to perish.”

Her lip curled. “You sure do know how to flatter a lady.”

“I’m sure I don’t look much better.” He didn’t have time to be thinking about her delicate sensibilities or whether his words offended her. It was time to make command decisions. “If we both get too weak to go on or too weak to fight for them, then we’ve defeated ourselves before we even got started.”

Chloe pulled out of his grasp. “I ain’t losing their trail because you’re thirsty.”

Gideon swallowed his angry retort before he spoke. “It’s hot, we’re sweating and we haven’t had a drink in hours. That means all the water we have in our bodies is leaving without putting more in. I’ve seen men drop dead after marching for days without fresh water.” He leaned in close and noticed just how long her lashes were. She was such a damn distraction. “The tracks should be easy to pick up again, but we are going to have to stop to find water. We also need to find something else to carry it in or make something.”

He didn’t mention the tobacco pouch and wasn’t going to. It was important to her, and he respected that. However he wasn’t about to let her kill herself because she didn’t want to listen to what he had to say.

“I ain’t stopping. You go ahead and find yourself a drink, but I’m moving on.” She walked on, heedless of the fact it was completely illogical, not to mention maddening.

“Chloe.” He started after her, then stopped and listened. The sound of wagon wheels echoed faintly in the afternoon air. He snatched her up by the waist, covering her mouth with one hand so she couldn’t scream, and dove into the brush.

The woman was like a wildcat in his arms, bucking and twisting, even biting his hand. He leaned down and whispered harshly in her ear, “Shut up and be still. There’s a wagon coming.”

She quieted, but the daggers shooting from her eyes got sharper.

“You ready to be good?” He wasn’t playing games with her, but damned if he didn’t have to treat her like a little kid.

She was anything but a little kid though. Her breasts pushed into his arm and stomach, and her body, honed by years of work, tucked into his like a key in a lock. Stupid dick noticed it all. It twitched against her hip, and her eyes opened wide, then narrowed again.

Gideon let her loose, momentarily flummoxed by his reaction to this spritely creature. She was a stranger, a woman he’d bedded because she had crawled in beside him offering herself. Chloe Ruskin meant nothing to him, yet his body disagreed. She was definitely more than nothing, perhaps bordering on something.

“You keep that stick in your pants, mister.” She scrambled a few feet away. “I ain’t got the time to please your inclinations right now.”

If they weren’t in such dire straits, he might have laughed at the notion he had to keep his “inclinations” to himself. It was absurd to consider that he would force himself on a woman, much less put their lives at risk to do so. Women didn’t quite understand how a man’s dick did the most outrageous things, whether or not he wanted it to. Sometimes it took control, however short-lived, until Gideon took it back, with force, if necessary.

“Take off your pack and leave it here until we know who is in the wagon. As for my inclinations, I don’t have the time or the desire to do anything to you right now.” He kept his voice barely audible. “Now shut up and listen.”

He was surprised to see something like hurt pass across her features as she turned away from him. There was no way she could be insulted because he wasn’t going to fuck her in the woods. For God’s sake, they were potentially waiting for the men who kidnapped her family and stole his horse. The very idea she’d been hurt was ridiculous. His words couldn’t hurt the thick-skinned Chloe.

She wanted to punch him. He’d been rude, bossy and insulting, not to mention the fact he’d manhandled her. For pity’s sake, the man had carried her like a sack of potatoes. Then when his cock had pushed against her, he’d acted annoyed. Gideon Blackwood was a mean son of a bitch, and she’d do best to forget ever having given him her virginity.

Chloe took a deep, slow breath and focused. If the wagon they heard was hers, she would need her wits about her, not stuck in a rut thinking about a stranger. She pulled the knife from her boot, and he found a sturdy branch to use as a club. Pitiful weapons to be sure, but Gideon and Chloe also had the element of surprise.

She gripped the handle so hard her knuckles popped. Blood whooshed through her veins, pumping her full of energy until she almost vibrated. Her legs tensed as the sounds grew closer, then closer still. The wagon was only about fifteen feet away. Her heart thumped hard, yet she retained her control, ready to do battle with those who would harm her family.

Gideon turned and pointed at her, then to her right. He pointed at himself, then to his left. She didn’t know exactly what he meant but surmised he was telling her to take the back of the wagon while he would go to the front. Chloe nodded and crept closer to the opening in the bushes as silently as she could. When she glanced back, she was surprised to see he was ten feet from her and nearly at the edge of the trail. For a big man, he moved like a shadow.

He stopped with a fist in the air, and she froze in place. Her breath came in short bursts as adrenaline surged through her. This wasn’t the first time Chloe had done something potentially dangerous. It was exciting to be doing something, to be fighting for what was hers, to take a stand and hold firm. Perhaps if she’d been a man, Chloe would have fought in the war with the same kind of excitement mixed with fear. She watched and waited until he glanced her way and, with a nod, jumped out of the brush.

She ran to the back of the wagon and skidded to a stop. This was not her family’s wagon. It belonged to a peddler or something like that, covered with bits and pieces of things for sale. As she turned to find Gideon, a bloodcurdling cry split the air and a shiver raced down her spine. Chloe raced around to the front of the wagon to find Gideon with his hands up and a woman pointing a shotgun at him.

Ironically familiar sight.

“I shall not let ye steal my soul, ye devil!” The woman was dressed in a drab gray dress with a poke bonnet that had seen better days. She held the weapon with ease, telling Chloe she could easily kill Gideon if desired.

“I said I was sorry, ma’am. I thought you were someone else.” He spotted Chloe and gestured with his head. “There is my, ah, wife. She can tell you I meant no harm to you.”

The word wife made Chloe lose her balance for a second, but she kept on walking, strangely pleased to have the man at her mercy again. It was an inappropriate moment to be having such thoughts, but they persisted anyway. Things had been topsy-turvy since she’d lowered her own pistol the day before. Impossible to think it had been just over one day, but time didn’t lie.

The stranger turned to look at Chloe but kept her gun firmly pointed at Gideon.

“This your man here?”

Chloe’s gaze met Gideon’s, and she saw so much in that split second, it startled her. Partly because she wanted to have someone to call her man, and because she saw the same kind of longing in his eyes.

“Ah, yes, ma’am. This here is Gideon.” Chloe stumbled over her words just as much as she’d done with her feet moments earlier. Mr. Blackwood made her awkward inside and out.

“You best drop that knife, girlie, and come on over to your Gideon.”

The older woman’s voice was hard as granite. Chloe wasn’t taking any chances, so she scurried over to his side, hiding the knife in the folds of her skirt.

“Don’t think I don’t see that knife. Unless you want to be picking up your man’s brain offa the ground, you’d better throw it to me, so’s you can’t reach it.” The woman knew how to handle a weapon. She threw rope at them while keeping her bead on Chloe and Gideon.

“Tie one of his hands to one of yours, and make sure it’s tight.”

“What? Why?”

“’Cause I said so, that’s why. I ain’t letting two strangers get hold of all my treasures. I don’t trust nobody. Until that big man is tied up, this gun is pointed at his head.”

Chloe bent down to pick up the rope, frantically trying to devise a way out of actually tying them up, but he stopped her thoughts with a harsh whisper.

“Just do it. We have nothing to steal but the packs we left in the bushes.” He held out his hands. “If she wants a battered tin pot, she can have it.”

Chloe wanted to protest but knew he was right. If the woman had a hankering for what they had, she could take it. After all, everyone seemed to be helping themselves to the Ruskin family’s belongings. Why not let her join in? Bitter thoughts raced around as she tied the rope around his wrist with a yank.

“Easy, little one. She said tight, not cut off his hand.” Gideon sounded as frustrated as she was.

“Sorry.” She loosened the knots a bit so his hand wasn’t turning purple anymore.

“Hurry up there, girlie. I ain’t got all day. Tie your hand to his.” The stranger watched closely as Chloe finished off the knot, leaving another six feet of rope dangling.

What if the woman made them walk behind the wagon tied like a dog?

Chloe wanted to pick up her knife and cut the rope, but again Gideon stopped her.

“We’ll get free. Don’t worry. I’ve escaped from knots tied by tougher folks than you.” He squeezed her hand.

Chloe turned to their captor. “Now what?”

“Now put your other hand behind your back and wait.” The woman climbed down from the wagon. As she moved closer, the smell hit first. It was worse than anything she’d ever encountered before, ten times worse. Obviously this strange peddler woman hadn’t bathed in a very long time, perhaps even a year. The rancidness of her body odor made Chloe’s eyes water. Gideon coughed, then cursed under his breath. The woman tied their other hands with the rope. She pushed it against Chloe’s mouth. “Now tighten it with your teeth.”

Chloe bit down on the filthy rope. It tasted of dirt and rotten potatoes. Frustration roared through her, and she wanted to spit at the stranger.

What else could go wrong?

Gideon gritted his teeth and barely avoided biting at the woman who had taken them captive. She was tall, much bigger than Chloe, and that shotgun had looked far too comfortable in her hands. If only the stranger had let them go about their business. But no, God had other plans, more frustration and obstacles, to throw in Gideon’s path.

As the woman came closer, the stench from her unwashed body made his gorge rise. She obviously didn’t take to soap and water, but she must not be able to actually smell, either. Chloe grunted and hissed as the stranger tightened the knots around her hands. Now he and Chloe were tied together, with enough rope to turn around and be chest to chest.

Clever. This way neither of them could get very far without the other, and there was such a huge difference between Gideon’s height and Chloe’s, he’d have to somehow carry her to run. The damn hag knew what she was doing.

“Now you can tell me what you’re doing threatening good folks like me and waving a knife around.” She picked up Chloe’s knife, which promptly disappeared into the voluminous folds of the woman’s gray skirt.

“We’re looking for my kin.” Chloe sounded like she was holding her nose—he didn’t blame her one bit. His eyes were watering enough it might appear as if he were crying. “Somebody took my little sisters and granny, along with the wagon and mules.”

“And my horse.”

“Oh yeah, and his horse, uh, Deuce.” Chloe was quick, he’d give her that. His horse was not named Deuce, but he wasn’t about to point that out.

The woman looked at them dubiously, her dark eyes hidden beneath the ratty hat she wore. “You are chasing these folks who took everything with nothing but a knife? You expect me to believe that pile of horse shit?”

Chloe’s entire body stiffened, and he knew she’d open her mouth and make things worse. As it always was in his everyday life, it fell to Gideon to be the peacemaker.

“It’s true whether or not you believe it. The girls are five, with light blonde hair and blue eyes. Hazel and Martha are a passel of trouble sometimes, but they’re good girls.” He watched the strange woman, ignoring Chloe’s elbow as it jammed into his side. “We were trying to catch up to them on foot because that’s all we’ve got right now. Our feet and a determination to take back what was stolen from us.”

The silence was broken only by the chattering of squirrels and a few birds calling to their mates. The woman stared at both of them while keeping her grip on the shotgun. If she didn’t believe them, she could leave Chloe and Gideon tied up on the side of the trail, or worse.