Nicademus: The Wild Ones (19 page)

The table with his dinner was flipped over in one violent action. Food, silverware, and everything else went crashing to the floor, or splashed over the furniture and the wall. Before she could remove the gun she wore strapped to her garter, he grabbed her by the hair and throat, and she fought like hell to get him off her. He dragged her away from the only door. The only escape out of the train car was denied her. Honey blinked back her tears and reminded herself of the reasons to not struggle. Ms. Kitty said he would be unpredictable. Ms. Kitty warned her to see it through, for all their sakes. Yet if he didn’t release her soon, she would carve his balls and make jewelry of them. It was disgraceful, but she managed at letting go of her strength and gave him weakness. She whimpered. The tears flowed.

Shepherd slammed her hard on the floor and got on top of her with his hands tight around her throat.

“Tell me the truth, bitch! Why are you really here? What are you planning? What makes Cora dumb enough to come to me after all these years?” he demanded.

“I-I-I can’t … I can’t breathe!” she wheezed, and clawed at his hands.

He let go of her throat, but he raised his fist. She swallowed deeply. “Please don’t hurt me, sir. It’s all I know. It’s all Ms. Kitty told me. Jeremiah is coming. Revenge for his pa, for his family is what he want,” she swallowed. “I come to make a deal. To give you the truth to spare our town. I knows Annabelle was wrong for mouthing off to you. And we only tried to protect her, not kill your men.”

Shepherd licked his chapped lips. He stood and paced away. Honey’s dress was pushed up. She was able to ease her gun into the palm of her hand.
Fuck this. He’s a dead man
, she secretly seethed. But before she could raise the gun he turned and looked at her.

“You say he has this posse?” he asked.

Honey eased her hand behind her back. “Yes sir,” she said. “I counted eight, at the saloon. Not sure how many he picked up at the mines. He says he knows he needed more to come for you.”

“And he told you this? Just laid it all out for you and Cora?” Shepherd asked.

She struggled but managed to rise. She was mindful to keep the gun hidden. She turned and went to the bar. With her back to him she eased the gun into her satin bag to the front of her where she kept the gold. She then retrieved a glass and bottle. She poured his glass and turned to him with a smile. “How many things has a girl like me learned from men while they lie between my thighs?” she asked.

Shepherd accepted the drink and walked over to the chair and sat. Honey released a deep sigh. She didn’t have long. She asked for an hour, but she knew Red Sun was anxious and would strike soon if he thought for a second her life was in danger. Honey walked over and put her hand on Shepherd’s shoulder. She walked around to face him. She knelt before him. “It’s real simple. We’ll do anything to save our town. Anything.”

The madman reclined. He extended the glass to her. “Fix me another drink. Then undress. You need to convince me.”

“I can do that,” she said. And she did. This time she made sure to pour into the glass the powder that Doc Samuel gave her. She stirred it with her finger. His back was to her. He didn’t see. She delivered his drink and began to unlatch the fastenings to the front of her corset. “All debts must be paid,” she said enticingly sweet.

Shepherd’s brow arched. He drank down every drop, and Honey smiled with satisfaction. She went to her knees before him and started to loosen his belt.

“Boss!” a man shouted.

Honey froze. The door was forced inward. Two men dragged a bloodied one inside. Shepherd shoved Honey aside. She fell over to the floor and scooted away from them.

“What is this about?” Shepherd demanded. He stood and fixed his pants.

“It’s Andy!” the man who had delivered Honey earlier said. They dropped the half-conscious guy on the floor. The other man had his gun drawn and went to the door of the train car as if expecting trouble. “Andy made it back to camp. Said he got ambushed. Said it was three or four of them, he couldn’t tell. They wanted to know how many men you had here. What the set up was. He—”

Shepherd put his hand to his mouth and nose. Besides the blood and evident bruises, the man smelled like shit. The man continued in a breathless rushed manner, and Honey guessed the outlaw must have broken the man’s chest.

“He said he got a good look at one. It’s the outlaw. Jeremiah Polk!”

The news was what Honey was told to wait for. She scrambled to her feet. “He’s out there! He’s out there!” she said. “I told you he’s coming!” She hurried with dressing and gathering her things. She noticed the way Shepherd cut his eyes toward her, but the bleeding man was enough to convince him of her story.

He stooped to the man. “You sure it was Jeremiah?” he asked.

The man gurgled and wheezed through breathing. He spit up blood. It coated his lips and tongue. “Yes,” he croaked.

“Saddle my horse! We ride now! Which way did they go?” Shepherd shouted at his men.

“Mountains,” the beaten man moaned. “Toward the mountains.”

“You tell Cora,” he pointed a finger at Honey, “thanks for the gift. I’ll consider her offer,” he said and left.

Honey said nothing in response. She watched them go, all but the man on the floor, and another who lingered by the door. He stared at her as she fixed her dress.

“Pig bitch!” he spat at her.

Honey ignored him.

“You hear me? You think ‘cause you got on that dress you respectable?” he asked. Honey’s gaze lifted to the man. Cora was specific. Keep calm and cause no alarm. Leave as she came. She would do just that, but the one before her was treading on her last nerve. She didn’t speak. She began to ease on her glove while holding his stare. The bastard stepped over his semi-conscious friend. “You ain’t nothing but a pig in a dress. A nigger whore!” he sneered. “Need to teach you your place. Get on your knees, bitch. On your knees now!”

Honey reached for her hat. The man apparently didn’t like her dismissal because he leapt on her. Grabbed her by the hair and sneered with his rancid breath and yellow teeth in her face. “You heard me talking to you, bitch?”

Honey put the short muzzle of the gun beneath his chin. The man froze, his eyes stretched in surprise. “Oh I hears you talkin’, but you ain’t sayin nothin’.”

“I—”

Honey pulled the trigger and the back of the man’s head exploded. Blood splattered all over the train car. The man dropped dead. Honey picked up her hat and stepped over the body. She started to the train car door and heard the man moaning, cursing at her in his broken state.

She turned her gaze to look down at him. “Got something to say?” she asked.

This silenced the man. He glared at her with his good eye.

“Honey! You comin’? We gots to go now!” Dixon said when he ran inside. He looked at the dead man on the floor and the other. “Honey, come … let’s go.”

She raised her gun and fired a single shot. The bullet hit the man in his eye and he fell back dead. Honey eased the gun into her satin pouch. She’d keep the messy details from Cora. She had fulfilled her mission her way. “Now we can go.”

**

The squeak of the floorboards accompanied by the spill of light from a lantern above alerted her. Annabelle sat up on her cot. She had tried to wait for him, but the waiting became too much. Her mind conjured all kinds of horrors. She feared she’d never see him again.

She was wrong.

Jeremiah came down the rope ladder with a lantern in his hand. Annabelle stood and fixed her hair and dress, smiling. “You’re back!”

“I’m back,” he smiled.

She raced over to him and hugged him so tight he nearly dropped the lantern. “Whoa!” he chuckled.

“Red Sun? Honey? Dixon?” she asked.

“They’re all okay. Everyone came back.”

“Thank you, God!” Annabelle put her hand to her breast. “Then it worked. He’s dead?”

Jeremiah sat on a barrel and removed his boots. “No. But he took the poison and right now he and his men are chasing shadows along the foothills of White Mountain. By the time he realizes his mistake he’ll be too sick to think of Nicademus. And once he’s dead, so will be his thirst for revenge.”

Annabelle chewed on her bottom lip. “That easy? That’s the plan?”

Jeremiah stood. “It’s never easy. But this is a good plan. Even if they recover to come and investigate, we will be long gone. A day or two and we’ll be on our way. Nicademus will be safe.”

“Then it’s time I welcome you home properly.” Annabelle reached to ease down the strap to her nightgown. She let it and the other strap slip before she tugged the gown down her hips. Undeniably her body was as beautiful as her smile.

She kissed his neck and ran her hands down his chest to his belt.

“No, Annabelle, don’t,” he stopped her.

“You don’t want me?” she asked. Her voice was soft and tinged with confusion.

Jeremiah picked up her gown and put it to her, to cover her body. “I want you. I’m in love with you. But not here, like this.”

“What’s wrong? Why not?” she asked.

The violent attack from the night before had left its scars. She still had dark bruising to her skin and face, finger marks around her neck. He was selfish before. Not now. He couldn’t be. Tonight they had to wait out Shepherd. Hell, they’d have to wait a few days to see if the bastard returned. And he’d be at her side to comfort and support her.

“It’s not right,” he said to himself. “I want to do things right with you.”

“This is right,” she said.

Jeremiah had to laugh. “I asked Red Sun for his blessing on our ride back in.”

Annabelle’s eyes danced. “What he say?”

“Nothing,” Jeremiah smiled. “Are we sure he understands English?”

Annabelle nodded with a grin. “If he didn’t speak, if he didn’t take off his hatchet and split your skull for asking, that’s good. If my pa didn’t like the idea, trust me, he could tell you without using words. See? Do you see? We gon’ be together!”

“I do trust you, with my life,” he stroked her cheek. Jeremiah had to stifle a smile at her logic. For Annabelle it was black and white. She went on her feelings and acted on them when she chose. It would take some getting used to. She hadn’t seen the world. He didn’t want to pluck her out of hers. His true dream would be to stay here, with her, in Nicademus. War changes a man. Especially when thrust into it before truly having experienced the sweetness in life. Three years of his life were gone. Since his return he’d carried nothing but the bitterness of his dead family in his gut, and their ghosts as his shadow. He had little understanding of this kind of
love
. The woman he thought would be his wife never inspired such depths of emotion. The lack of experience was the only explanation he had for why he’d forgotten his plan. Take the gold, run to Wyoming, never look back, was his plan. He needed a new one.

Love her, be with her, never let her go.

He kissed the red puff of her swollen cheek. He kissed her dark lashes as they lowered. His hands explored the soft lines of her back, her waist, and caressed the swell of her hips. Annabelle lifted her arms to his neck, and her nipples firmed instantly once they brushed his skin. And then their lips met. Crushing her into him, he covered her mouth with his. It became a kiss for his tired soul to meld into. She breathed lightly through her parted lips, exploring the deep cavern of his mouth with her own tongue, now masterful in the joining. Her hands went to the front buttons of his britches and fingered them lose. He admired the bold and confident way she responded to him. When his pants dropped she let her fingers rake through the nest of wiry curls that covered his pelvis before gripping his dick firmly and giving it a long stroke.

Jeremiah inhaled deep.

She let go of his cock. He went to his knees, and she went with him. But Annabelle refused the submission of lying beneath him. She wanted to see him beneath her. Instead, she eased over on top of him, kissing his chest. She stopped at his healing wound, and touched it softly. Her eyes lifted to see if he felt pain. She only saw desire in those emeralds beneath his lids, staring back. So she slid up the length of him and lay on top of him, rubbing her skin across his. Licking her lips, she shivered with lust over the way his dick pulsed at the center of her closed legs. Again she sought out his mouth. Why not? His tormented groans were a heady invitation. And oh how she loved the way he tasted.

Her lips traced a sensuous path from his mouth to the hollow of his neck. Jeremiah rubbed her butt cheeks, then went lower to spread her legs. The thick tip of his cock rubbed against her pussy, seeking acceptance. Annabelle pressed her palms flat into his shoulders and lifted her pelvis to aid him. It was such sweet agony that every muscle in her body locked when he thrust up and breeched her center. Her head fell over and her hair covered her face as her nails bit into his skin.

But she continued the descent
.

Inch by inch she slid over him, unable to stop no matter the discomfort. When it was done, she let go the deepest sigh of release. Jeremiah smiled up at her and she smiled down at him. He rejected her at first, he should have known better. There was no way she’d not express her love for him in this way.