Honor Bound: Bound and Tied, Book 1 (3 page)

Zach didn’t look the other man in the eye, his gaze aimed back toward the pool, his thoughts reliving the moment he’d crossed the line. “I’m not tellin’.” He faced the other man. “What about you, Jake?”

“You even have to ask?” Jake shook his head. “Wild Indians couldn’t drag it out of me. I guess you could say what we have is special. If we let on to anyone else, they’ll make it sound tawdry. And it isn’t.”

Zach nodded as though satisfied with Jake’s answer. “Still, let’s not do it again. It ain’t right.”

Jake grinned. “But you liked it as much as I did, didn’t you?”

“I ain’t a’ sayin’.” Zach strode toward the cabin. When he reached for the door latch, he frowned. He had locked it in place when he left at noon. “Did you go back into the cabin after I closed it earlier?”

“Nope.” Jake pushed past Zach and stepped into the cabin. “You cookin’ tonight?” He tossed his gun belt on the bed and stripped out of his dungarees, his naked ass as white as a newborn babe’s.

Zach turned away as desire filled his groin and his dick lengthened. Wet denim did nothing to quench the heat. “I’ll cook,” he grunted. “I want to finish off the beans before we leave for Idaho Springs.”

Jake hung his dungarees on the wall and turned toward Zach, his cock erect, a smirk on his face. “Then I’ll get the firewood.”

“Don’t ya think you ought to put on some trousers?”

Jake shrugged. “When they dry.”

“You do have another pair,” Zach reminded him.

“I know.” Jake walked by Zach, naked as the day he was born, and patted Zach on the ass. “You’ve seen me naked before. What’s the problem?”

Problem? Hell, he had a problem pressed against the fabric of his britches, making him as uncomfortable on the outside as he was inside.

Zach stood for a long moment after Jake left the cabin before he could even think about what he was supposed to be doing. Beans. He had cooking duty. With a deep indrawn breath, he stared up at the shelf where the beans had been. Two tin cups and a couple tin plates were all the shelf held. He turned toward the fireplace. Maybe he’d set the bag on the floor when he’d cooked breakfast.

Zach couldn’t wait until they bought supplies in Idaho Springs. Having lived on beans and biscuits for the past few weeks, he wouldn’t be the least unhappy if he never saw another bean. However, when that was all a man had, he didn’t argue. You ate the damned beans. Now where were they? He checked in the bean pot on the table and scratched his head.

Zach walked to the door and leaned out. “Did you move the bag of beans?”

“No, I left them on the shelf where they always are,” Jake called out from the woodpile. The sound of wood falling was followed by a loud curse.

“Damned fool. Gonna hurt something important gathering wood in his birthday suit.” Zach redirected his attention back to the interior of the cabin. The bag of beans had to be somewhere.

With careful deliberation, his gaze swung across the small room, searching every nook and cranny. As it passed over his peg on the wall where he kept his good clothes, he stopped. The peg was empty. “Damn it.” He walked across the room and stared at the peg and the floor beneath it. “Jake!”

Jake appeared in the doorway, his arms loaded with firewood and kindling, his dick hard and erect. “What?”

“Did you take my good shirt and trousers from the peg on the wall?”

Jake shook his head. “You sure you didn’t fold them and put them under your bed?”

“No, I specifically hung them on that peg last time I wore them to Idaho Springs three months ago. They’ve been hangin’ there since.”

Jake’s brows rose. “You think some claim jumper got ’em?”

Zach’s shoulder hitched. “I don’t know. But I can’t find the bag of beans either.”

Jake’s face paled. “You can’t?” He dove for the shelf, though the bag was gone. “You have to find the bag of beans.” He pushed aside the table and handmade chairs. “We have to find the bag of beans.” His gray eyes flashed wild and excited, sweat popping out on his forehead. Jake’s search expanded to the rest of the room.

Zach frowned. Jake never got this upset. He was the calm, collected one who always had a joke and a ready smile. “We can go without the beans. I still have flour left for biscuits.”

“You don’t understand,” Jake yelled. “We have to find the beans.”

Zach grabbed Jake by the arms and forced his friend to look into his eyes. “Why are the beans so damned important, Jake?”

Jake’s eyes widened. “Don’t you see?”

“No I don’t. Tell me.” Zach’s heart beat faster. He stood close enough he could reach out and touch the other man’s cock. But Jake was no longer aroused, the crazed look in his eye one of a cornered coon, desperate and ready to take on anyone who came at him. “What’s wrong?”

Jake looked around the room. “I hid it in the bag.”

“Hid what?” Even as Zach asked the question, he knew. “You didn’t.”

His friend nodded. “I did. I wanted to hide it in a place no one would look.”

Zach dropped Jake’s arms and started turning over furniture. “We have to find that bag.” He located the flour bag and opened it, just in case the bean bag miraculously ended up in the flour by some strange quirk of fate. He checked in the coffee pot, under the firewood, behind the wooden barrel he set the kerosene lamp on.

Jake ran to his bed and ripped back the bearskin robes, flinging them to the dirt floor. He rifled through old sacks and gun-cleaning equipment. “What’s this?” He held up what looked like a squaw’s doeskin dress.

Zach’s eyes narrowed. The only place they hadn’t looked was underneath his bed. If the owner of the dress was still in the cabin, that was the only place she could be hiding. Was she armed? Would she stab them in the eyes if they tried to grab her? “Maybe whoever took the clothes and beans is outside.” Zach made sure his words were loud and clear.

Jake frowned at him. “In that case she’d be long gone.”

Zach shook his head and pointed to the bed.

Jake’s eyes widened and his mouth formed an O. “Yeah, how about we go check outside?”

Zach and Jake stomped toward the door, Jake grabbing his wet dungarees from the peg on the wall. As soon as they cleared the door, Zach pushed Jake to one side while he ducked to the other.

Jake shoved his legs into the trousers. He was still trying to get the pant leg up when a flurry of movement erupted from the cabin door.

Zach grabbed the first thing he could get hold of—a handful of bright red hair. He didn’t yank or pull, just held on.

The forward movement of the woman whose head the hair remained attached to carried her a step farther before she jerked to a stop and squealed. Then all hell broke loose. The little she-cat scratched, clawed and kicked like a trapped mountain lion.

Zach closed his eyes to keep from being blinded by her fury. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground, her feet flailing in the air. Not until he had her arms and hands locked to her side in the circumference of his arms did Zach reopen his eyes.

For a moment the woman’s movements stilled and he lowered her to her feet, his arms remaining in position like steel bands around a wooden barrel…a soft and curvy barrel.

Zach dragged in a breath and let it out, his shins aching, a dozen scratches on his chest and arms to show for his troubles.

Jake buttoned the top button of his dungarees and stood back, a grin stretched across his face. “Well, well, looks like we caught a she-cat by the tail.”

The woman bucked and reared, squirming so much she managed to slip free of his hold and duck beneath his arms.

Jake blocked her escape long enough for Zach to grab her from behind, one arm around her middle, holding her arms to her sides, and one clamped over the top of her chest. No sooner did he have her than she resumed kicking and clawing.

Bruised and battered, Zach had had enough. “Stop kicking.” He tightened his hold.

Jake doubled over, laughing so hard tears ran from his eyes.

“Would you do something?” Zach shouted.

Jake wiped his face. “Do what? You seem to have everything under control.”

“Get a damned rope.”

“I haven’t been this entertained since the last time we were in Denver.”

Zach took another blow to the shin and gut. “Get the rope or I swear I’ll string you up with it,” he said between grunts.

“Goin’.” Jake ducked inside the cabin and emerged with a worn rope they used to lead the pack mules through the mountains. He captured one of the woman’s feet and slipped a loop over her ankle, jumping back as she kicked loose of his grip and aimed her heel for his face.

“The other one, get the other one.” Zach nearly dropped her, his hold slipping.

Jake snaked the rope around her other ankle just as she wiggled free of Zach’s grip again.

The woman threw herself toward the tree line, jerking the rope from Jake’s hands.

Zach dove for the end of the rope and pulled tight.

Her feet cinched together and the woman toppled like a falling tree, throwing her hands out in front of her. As she hit the ground, a bundle rolled out from under the blue shirt she wore.

With the end of the rope, he yanked her hands behind her back and trussed her hands together. As the dust settled and Zach’s breathing returned to normal, he stood back and surveyed his catch.

“That’s my shirt you have on, woman.”

She remained facedown in the dirt, her eyes narrowed, red curls tumbled, without uttering a word.

Jake nudged the bundle with his bare toe. “Looks like your trousers too.” He dropped to his haunches and unrolled the bundle. The bag of beans fell out. Jake scooped it up and poured the contents onto the ground. Beans spilled in a neat pile. When the bag emptied, a shiny rock dropped amongst the beans.

The woman gasped. “Is that what I think that is?”

Jake lifted the nugget and held it up to the sunlight. “If you think it’s gold, you’re right.”

“And that would make you a thief.” Zach glared down at the woman. “Do you know what they do to thieves in the mountains?”

Chapter Three

“Do they hang thieves up in the mountains?” Honor gulped as she crooked her neck to lift her face out of the dirt and look up.

The tall dark-haired man towered above her. His angry face appeared set in stone. His blue eyes narrowed and his lip curled in a snarl. “In the most horrible way you can’t even imagine.”

The man with the curly reddish-brown hair started to shove the gold into his pocket.

Before he could, the angry one held out his hand. “You better let me hold on to that.”

Curly handed him the nugget. “Maybe you better. Seems my hiding places aren’t nearly safe enough.” He squatted next to Honor. “So, Zach, what are we going to do with her?”

Zach paused for a long time, working the nugget between his fingers.

Honor held her breath, her heart pounding against her ribs.

“Kill her.” He turned and walked back into the cabin.

“You can’t,” she cried, struggling against her bonds. “That would be murder.”

“You see a lawman around here?” The big man’s voice carried from inside the cabin. “Jake, if you’re not gonna kill her right now, you think you could start that fire so we can eat tonight?”

Jake scooped up the beans and grinned across at her before he straightened and headed for the cabin.

“Are you going to leave me here all tied up?” she shouted, snorting dust into her nostrils.

Neither man answered, but something suspiciously like a chuckle reached her ears.

Honor struggled to free her hands, only managing to tighten the already snug ropes. The more she wiggled, the more dust she inhaled, causing her to cough and sputter.

Several minutes passed and still no one emerged from the cabin, but smoke rose from the chimney.

“If you let me loose, I’ll cook,” she offered, anything to get the men to untie her.

Nothing. Not a sound from her captors.

After struggling and wiggling until she’d rubbed her wrists raw, she must have fallen asleep, exhausted from her escape from Running Bear, her fall down the hillside and moving through the woods throughout the night and day.

How long she slept, she didn’t know, but the scent of beans and biscuits woke her, making her stomach clench in pain. Dusk had settled in around the clearing, lengthening the shadows, the sun dipping below the rocky bluff. The temperature dropped as quickly as the sun disappeared.

Dressed only in the man’s shirt, Honor shivered. “You know, even prisoners are granted food,” she said, her voice weak, her hopes fading with each passing moment. “When I get out of these ropes, I’ll do the killing.” Tears slipped from her eyes to make mud in the dirt. “I just wanted to go to San Francisco. Open a hat shop. Be independent.” A sob rose up her throat and she swallowed hard to keep the men from hearing her cry. She wouldn’t let them know how defeated she felt.

Hadn’t she escaped a wild Indian? Hadn’t she traveled miles on her own without anyone’s help? She’d more than proven she could survive. This was yet another challenge she would overcome if she used her brain.

Dark claimed the mountain, the eerie sounds she’d listened to the night before even more prevalent while she lay completely defenseless in the dirt. Having asked to be released several times, she refused to beg any more. If they wanted her to die, starving to death had to be better than being hung.

Then again, hanging would end her life sooner. She wouldn’t lie there for days, wasting away. “If you’re going to kill me, get it done,” she shouted.

Zach sat across the table from Jake, his fork poised over the beans he’d been picking at for the past half hour.

Jake had cleaned his plate and sat nursing his second cup of coffee. The man had the good sense to keep his mouth shut through preparation of the meal as well as during the consumption. Twice he’d opened his mouth, thought better of it, and then closed it again.

Finally, Zach laid his fork to the side of his uneaten meal. “Spit it out.”

“You gonna leave her out there for the wolves?” Jake asked.

“What do you suggest?”

“Well, it ain’t right to leave a defenseless woman outside in the cold.”

Zach snorted. “Defenseless?” He held up his arm, displaying the cuts and scratches and a bite mark. “She’s not defenseless.”