Little Red: An Everland Ever After Tale (4 page)

“Hey Red, I asked—”

“I’m fine.”

He snorted, letting her know that he wasn’t buying her assurances. Well, it didn’t matter what he believed, only that he got her—and
Abuelo’s
will—safely to Everland.

It felt like forever before he spoke again, although that might’ve just been because Rojita was feeling absolutely every bounce in the saddle and dip in the road. “So, why’d you get off the train, Red? You feel up to explaining to me why we’re riding all this way?”

The way he asked that last question managed to climb under her skin and irritate her further. He’d managed to sound concerned
and
like he was making fun of her. “There was a man…” And then the horse—demon-creature, really—put its foot down extra-hard, and she couldn’t contain her gasp at the pain that radiated from the center of her back. To think! She’d been so, so comfortable this morning when she’d woken up cradled by his warmth, and now felt like most of her body was on fire.

It’d probably had something to do with the way he’d smiled at her when he’d found her draped all over him like a hussy. It’d just been a little grin, one he probably hadn’t even known he was making, but it had been… nice. It made her feel safe, and that was surprising and comforting all at once.

But now,
now
she was just miserable, and he was sitting over there waiting for an answer. “I… I have to get to my grandmother’s house.” There. That was surely the most important—Rojita groaned again when the blasted animal apparently began to practice calisthenics under her.

“You ain’t a real horsewoman, are you?” And then he was beside her, and Rojita didn’t have the chance to figure out how to tell her animal to move away or speed up or anything, before she felt his arm around her waist. She didn’t even have time to be angry at his high-handedness or his tone, which she would’ve, if she’d had the breath. But instead, she was flying through the air, the reins slipping from her fingers, in a way that didn’t feel at all like being thrown yesterday.

And then she was seated on his lap. On a horse. He was on a horse, and she was sitting on his lap, and this wasn’t at all proper, was it? But then he shifted slightly, pulling her legs over his and supporting her back with one strong arm, and Rojita decided that she didn’t care one whit. His thighs were soft enough to cushion her rear end from all of the bounces and bumps of the road, and his chest was broad enough to protect her from some of the wind.

Propriety be damned; if he was willing to have her sit on his lap all the way to wherever-they-were-going, then she absolutely was not going to argue. She pulled her cloak out from under one thigh, made sure that she was well-covered, and then curled up into his heat, pressing her cheek against his shoulder and sighing in contentment. Did he have the reins from Lobo’s horse? She decided that she didn’t care enough about the blasted animal to bother checking.

“So, your grandmother?” Oh dear, she’d forgotten her story. But if she was going to talk him into escorting her to Everland, she had to make him understand why it was so important. Important that she get to
Abuela’s
house.

But suddenly, she couldn’t seem to drum up any interest in what had yesterday been a life-threatening situation. Probably still was, honestly. But right now, snuggled up into his heat,
El Lobo
just didn’t seem to matter as much anymore. “Hmmmmmm,” was all she said.

He tried again. “You said you had to get to your grandmother’s house?”

“Mmm-hmmm. She lives in Everland. Outside of Everland, I guess.” The yawn took her by surprise, and she felt him chuckle. Peeking up at his face, she could see one corner of his mouth turned up slightly, under his short beard. Was he laughing at her? Because she couldn’t manage to think straight, surrounded by his warmth? She frowned, and tried to sit up straighter, but his arm clasped around her back and pulled her closer to him.

Rojita briefly considered fighting his high-handed action, but she was honest enough with herself to admit that this was much more comfortable than sitting straight and stiff on his lap, so she just sighed… and thought that she heard him echo it.

“So, you got off the train in Marston, to visit your grandmother in Everland, even though the Everland spur goes right through Haskell, which would’ve been your next stop anyhow?”

“Yes.” She yawned again, and was it her imagination, or did his arm tighten around her? Goodness, she was suddenly quite tired. Maybe she hadn’t slept as well as she’d thought last night, or maybe she still hadn’t fully recovered from her fall yesterday. “There was a man on the train, and I needed to get off.”

“I’ve been on trains before, honey. There’re usually plenty of men.”

“Not this man. He’s… dangerous.” Rojita realized that she was fiddling with the buttons on his coat, and couldn’t seem to make herself stop. Talking about Lobo made her stomach knot up, but touching Hank—having him touch her—made her feel…
safe
. What was wrong with her? She’d only met him yesterday, and already she was trusting him to get her home safely? “He’s been after me since Salt Lake. I thought I was ahead of him, until I realized he was on the same train. So I got off.”

She felt him snort, and didn’t know if he was laughing at her again. Didn’t know if it mattered. Another yawn, and her eyelids grew heavy. He certainly was comfy, wasn’t he?

“What’s his name?” She didn’t want to answer. Didn’t want to do anything but rest here with her eyes closed, cheek pillowed against his chest. “Red, what’s this ‘dangerous’ man’s name?”

“
El Lobo
.”

She heard him mutter a curse under his breath, and then she was asleep.

What were the odds? Sure, there had to be more than one man in the west using the name “The Wolf”, but Hank could only think of one who used the Spanish version. No one else had the guts to go up against that reputation. The
El Lobo
down in Texas—a big, bad son-of-a-bitch who worked alone and cultivated a mustache you could lose a sheep in—was the reason that Hank’s right shoulder ached in this cold. Three years ago he’d set out to take down the
desperado
, and Lobo had ambushed him. He remembered lying there in the dry Texas dirt, feeling his blood seeping out of his shoulder, and wondering how in the hell someone could shoot a Colt revolver that accurately from that distance.

And now this same desperado was chasing Red across half the Territory? What the hell had she done to deserve that? What was he after?

He’d spent the day with her, in between her naps on his lap, and while she was fun as hell to tease, he couldn’t imagine her taking on Texas’ most notorious gunslinger. Take chances? Sure. Run head-long into danger without really thinking things through? Definitely. She’d curled up next to him easy enough, hadn’t she?

The day had been pleasant, with her cuddled up on his lap like a kitten. He hadn’t even minded the slight ache in his arms from supporting her for so long. As the spare horse plodded along behind them, he asked her questions about her home—which she happily answered—and her urgent reason to get there—which she didn’t. He learned more about her family, and lost count of all the kids she named as her brothers and sisters; she’d been right about there being too many “Marys”. It was obvious that she loved them, and the couple who’d raised them—her “grandparents”—deeply.

They’d shared lunch right after fording a creek, swollen with early spring run-off, and after, she stood patiently beside his horse, waiting to be lifted again. He hid his smile when he showed her how to step on his boot and climb into his lap; she’d just assumed this was where she’d be finishing the journey, and he found that he didn’t mind one bit. Her enthusiasm, her wit, her adorable little frowns when he teased her… She was growing on him.

About an hour ago, she’d fallen asleep on him again. He glanced down at the little woman snuggled up all trustingly in his arms, and resisted the urge to tighten his hold on her, knowing that she only looked so at peace because he was warm and comfier than her horse. Instead, he shifted his grip on the reins and clucked to both horses, sending them into the outskirts of Haskell.

He liked Haskell; he’d come through here two months ago on his way north chasing Tomtom Piper. That bounty had netted him enough to finally snag a piece of land and settle down, although only the good Lord knew what he was going to do with his time once he built a little house. Maybe he could find someplace like Haskell down in Arizona, although it wasn’t likely. The man who ran the hotel here in town—with the unlikely name of Theophilus Gunn—had filled him in on the history, and how this place had been built from the ground up by one of the local ranchers, a guy by the name of Howard Haskell. Apparently his word was pretty much law, but he actually cared about the
people
in the town, rather than just making money, so most of those laws were pretty easy to obey.

As a man who’d managed to scrape out a living hunting down the sons-of-bitches who made a point of not following the laws, Hank knew that Haskell, Wyoming was probably a one-in-a-million place. The rest of humanity wasn’t nearly as community-minded. But that just made the town nicer to visit, and Hank had been looking forward to a good meal and maybe a real bed. In fact, Gunn had told him all about the town’s baseball league, and Hank wouldn’t mind seeing them practice.

And the sleeping woman in his arms wasn’t going to change that plan. He’d never actually agreed to take her to Everland, and he didn’t have any intention of it. She was fool enough to get off the train, so he’d put her right back on it. Whoever she was scared of—this imitation calling himself
El Lobo
—would be long gone by now, heading east on whichever train she’d been on. So, Hank would just plop her on whatever train was heading north towards Everland, and wash his hands of the hasty, too-trusting little Red.

And why in the hell did that thought make him want to wrap his arms around her and never let go?

Maybe he
did
squeeze her, because she gave a little moan and began to stir just as he directed both horses down Haskell’s main street. “Hey, Red.” The sexy little purr she gave out when she snuggled even closer against him made him hard, and he shifted uncomfortably in the saddle.
Whoa there, down boy
. She might be beautiful, and she might be curled up against him like a cat, and she might have woken up draped over him that morning like sweet, warm syrup poured over—
This ain’t helping, stupid.
Hank swallowed, and forced himself to concentrate on where he was directing the horses. She wasn’t the kind of woman he let himself get hard for.

So yeah, maybe his voice was a little harsher than necessary when he tried again. “Hey, Red, wake your fool self up. We’re here.”

“Everland?” Dangit, how’d she manage to sound sexy even when she was confused?

“Haskell.” His resolve faltered when he watched her yawn and—
Oh God
she stretched right there on his lap, and looked even more like a satisfied kitten. Hank had always been partial to cats.

“We’re stopping here for the night. Got any money?”

She turned towards the building with the “The Cattleman Hotel” sign out front. It might’ve just been because she was interested in the town, but Hank got the impression she was avoiding his eyes too. “Not much on me right now.” Well, that made sense. She’d probably purchased her ticket in Salt Lake, and hadn’t figured that she’d need much between there and Everland.

“That’s alright. I’ll cover the rooms.”

“Thank you.” Her voice sounded small. Smaller than usual. “I’ll add it to the amount I owe you once we get to Everland.”

Hank didn’t quite snort. Paying for her hotel would make up for the fact that he wasn’t going to take her to Everland; wasn’t going to pick up her promised reward... but she didn’t know that. She figured she’d just pay him back, and maybe—a few months ago—it’d have been worth it to him to make it to Everland. A hundred bucks was a lot of money. But after the Piper bounty, he had what he needed, what he wanted. Enough money to build a home for himself, and he was beyond ready. He’d been waiting long enough; even a few days’ side trip to get a brave, reckless little hothead like Red to her grandmother seemed like too much. The train would get her there safe enough, and he’d be on his way.

Meanwhile, they were here in Haskell for the night, and he was planning on splurging on a hotel room.
Two
hotel rooms. And after holding her on his lap for the last few hours, he’d decided that he very definitely did not want to spend another night tangled up with her. Separate hotel rooms would mean that he wouldn’t have to worry about waking up aching for her because she was draped trustingly over his chest again.

Hank shifted again and tightened his jaw. Maybe once he got her settled, he’d go visit Miss Bonnie’s girls. They’d been real welcoming last time, and he needed something to distract himself from thoughts of thick red hair and deep blue eyes and kitten-soft lips and—
Come on, Hank. Get it together.

Yeah, so maybe he practically dumped her on the boardwalk in front of the hotel, but she didn’t seem to notice. He’d get the horses taken care of later; for now he just needed her on the other side of a closed door, and he’d tell her just that if he had to.

She was going to Everland, and he was going to Arizona.

She was just staring up at the hotel sign, so he put his gloved hand on the small of her back, and sorta pushed her through the door. Even through her thick red cloak and all those layers, even through the late March chill, Hank could feel her heat. It made him want to do something stupid… like pick her up and press her against the building and make sweet love to her with his mouth.

Yep, things were getting mighty tight in the trouser region, and Hank bit back a curse. He didn’t need this. Didn’t need her.

When they were inside, he dropped his hand and stalked towards the desk, pulling off his hat and gloves and running his hand through his short hair. The familiar action did little to calm him, though.

“Mr. Cutter, wasn’t it?” The man behind the desk was as tall, thin, and white-haired as Hank remembered. His jacket bore The Cattleman emblem over one breast, and looked neater than anything Hank had ever worn. He was smiling right now, in that knowing way Hank had noticed during his last visit.

“Good to see you again, Mr. Gunn.” The hotel manager seemed pleased to be remembered. “We’re in town for the night, and would like a couple of rooms.”

And that’s when Hank made the mistake of glancing at Rojita. She’d moved towards the desk as well, and had pulled off her fancy red cloak. It had covered her from the heavy hood all the way to the ground, and without it, she seemed… even smaller. More delicate. It was draped over one arm while she peeled off the gloves she’d been wearing, and Hank was surprised to see that the gown underneath—gray and worn—looked serviceable instead of elegant. But with that dark red hair falling all across her shoulders, she looked anything but plain.

Then she met his eyes, and he had to swallow past a suddenly dry throat. She was looking at him so… so darn trustingly, it was unnerving. She’d just met him, didn’t know anything about him. She’d offered him money to escort her safely, and didn’t have any idea of what kind of man he was, what kind of man could be waiting for her. And now she was trusting him again, and damned if Hank wasn’t showing her that she
could
trust him.

“Two rooms, Mr. Cutter?” Gunn’s question cut through the haze Hank saw whenever he met her eyes, and drew him back to the hotel lobby. He should probably thank the man, but when he turned, Gunn’s expression was entirely too knowing. So Hank just raised a brow, daring the manager to say something.

Gunn took the dare. Flicking his eyes between the two of them, his lips curled into the smallest of smirks, the older man asked blandly, “You’re sure you two need separate rooms?”

God in Heaven
, was his condition that obvious? Hank was too embarrassed to even look at Red, to see if she was blushing at the manager’s assumption. So he just growled, “I said
two
, didn’t I?”

“Indeed you did, sir.” Gunn wasn’t smirking when he filled out the ledger and handed Hank two room keys, but he was so obviously
not
smirking that he might as well have been. Hank, scowling, slapped some money on the desk and pretended not to notice the way Gunn kept glancing between the two of them.

Taking a deep breath, Hank turned to Red and held out one of the keys. “Here, honey.” Dangit, why’d he go and call her that? Her eyes widened at the familiarity, and he almost groaned when he saw her cheeks pink. She wasn’t some shy miss, he knew that well enough; it had to be Gunn’s assumption that made her blush, and Hank was darn close to blushing himself. He cleared his throat. “The hotel serves a pretty good dinner, or Mr. Gunn can send up some food if you’d rather just rest some more.”

As she realized what he was telling her, he saw disappointment cloud her expression, and felt like a real low-down coyote. But then she straightened her shoulders, and stuck her chin out, and he almost smiled at her gumption. “You won’t be eating, Mr. Cutter?”

Good, honey. Keep calling me that.
Because the more times he heard his given name on her lips, the more he wanted to make her cry out for him, to call his name to the stars, while he showed her what lips were really made for.

And
that’s
why he wasn’t eating with her tonight. He wiggled the key a bit, and she hesitantly reached for it. “Nah, I’ve got someplace else to visit.” Miss Bonnie could introduce him to one of her girls, and he’d be able to get rid of this damned ache.

But that’s when her fingers brushed against his, as she took the key. It was the first time he’d felt her skin, without the gloves, and the warmth shocked him. It traveled up his arm and through his chest, and made him instinctively tighten his hand around hers. There they stood in the hotel lobby, her staring up at him in shock, and he wondered if she felt it too.