Authors: Sarah McCarty
From that Caden deduced, they were done with their shift, and
their replacements were in position. Another thing to note. Culbart’s men
weren’t slipshod when it came to switching the guard. That was going to
complicate things.
Nobody attempted to make conversation on the ride up to the
ranch. Caden didn’t, either. Silence worked for him. It gave him time to study
the lay of the land, looking for potential dangers, spots to hide and whatever
he might need to utilize on the escape. There was no telling what condition
Maddie would be in. He had to prepare for any eventuality. His index finger
pulled on an imaginary trigger. If she was hurt at all, they were all going to
die. Maddie was Hell’s Eight. More than that, she was his friend.
Caden was the center of attention when they rode into the
ranch. He wasn’t surprised. He doubted the Fallen C got many visitors. The
remoteness of the location, plus the hostiles around, pretty much guaranteed
that. Under the watchful eyes of his guards, he swung down from Jester. Cutting
a glance at his guards, he mentioned too casually, “I expect to be leaving with
all that I came with.”
The younger man spat to the side. “I’d worry more about leaving
with your life.”
He looped Jester’s reins around the hitching rail in front of
the wide porch. “I make a habit of taking it with me.”
The man said something under his breath. Caden ignored it.
No boards gave under Caden’s feet as he climbed the three steps
to the porch itself. It was built solid, the planks evenly spaced. More evidence
of Culbart’s attention to detail. The door opened before he could knock. Culbart
himself filled the entry. He was a big bear of a man, with a bushy beard, bushy
mustache and piercing gray eyes under shaggy brown hair. He looked more mountain
man than prosperous rancher, but one thing a body learned fast out here was that
a man couldn’t be judged by his appearance.
“Who the hell are you?” Culbart demanded.
The man not only looked like a bear, he had the growly voice of
one.
Caden touched his finger to his hat. “Caden Miller.”
Culbart’s eyes narrowed. “From Hell’s Eight?”
“Yes.”
“What the hell you doing out here?”
“Says he’s got business about a filly.”
Culbart said to the older man, “I imagine the man can speak for
himself, Dickens.”
Dickens snapped his mouth shut and his shoulders tensed. No
love lost there, Caden deduced. He made a note of it.
“Did you bring money?” Culbart asked.
“I brought the word of Hell’s Eight. That not good enough for
you?”
Culbart hesitated and snorted then stepped back. “Leave your
guns on the porch and come on in and we’ll discuss it.”
Caden unbuckled his gun belt. “Not very hospitable, are
you?”
“I’m offering you a drink rather than a meal of lead. Count
yourself lucky.”
As Caden put his guns on the chair by the door, he took in the
rancher’s size and muscle and aggressive posture. A prudent man probably would
count himself lucky. There weren’t many men who could take him in a fight, but
Culbart just might be one of them. Too bad he wasn’t prudent.
He stepped through the door. The inside of the house was just
as utilitarian and rough as its owner. The space was large but efficiently laid
out. The kitchen opened to the living room with its large fireplace. To the left
he could see a short hallway with doors off it. From the number of chimneys on
the outside of the house, he had to assume those were the bedrooms and that each
had its own fireplace. Culbart was a man who liked his creature comforts.
“Nice place,” Caden observed.
Culbart grunted and waved him into one of the big horsehair
chairs. He might like his creature comforts, but the man’s social graces were
lacking. Caden recalled Ace’s speculation about Culbart’s need for a wife. A
woman to soften his edges would be an asset for sure.
Culbart walked over to the chest against the wall and pulled
out a whiskey bottle and two shot glasses. Without any fanfare, he poured two
glasses and brought them over. Caden took his glass. With another wave of his
hand, Culbart motioned him into his seat and then took his own.
“So Hell’s Eight is looking to improve its breeding stock,
huh?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.”
“What sort of filly are you looking for?”
Caden took a sip of the whiskey. Despite the simple glass and
the rough presentation, it was quality. Another indication Culbart intended to
go somewhere. A man who wanted to go somewhere wasn’t a man who wanted it known
he was holding a woman hostage unless he had a sense of self-importance as big
as all outdoors. Culbart struck Caden as a confident man but not a vain one.
“The Fallen C has some of the best stock around,” Culbart said
before taking a sip of his own whiskey, pausing just long enough to imply
otherwise before adding, “Next to Hell’s Eight, of course.”
Caden smiled the same fake smile that Culbart gave him. “Of
course.”
“So what kind of horse are you looking for? What stock?”
Caden dropped the pretense. “A pretty little redhead.”
Culbart’s eyes narrowed. “What makes you think I have such a
thing?”
Caden’s smile slipped just as fast as Culbart’s did. Leaning
forward, he placed the button on the arm of Culbart’s chair.
Culbart eyed the button speculatively before picking it up and
putting it in his pocket. “Thank you for returning that. They’re custom-made and
expensive.”
Caden was done with games. “You’ve got something that belongs
to Hell’s Eight. We want it back.”
Culbart didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Last I heard, Hell’s
Eight didn’t believe in slavery.”
“We don’t. But we keep what’s ours.”
“The little filly in question didn’t say a thing about being
yours.”
Caden would have a talk with Maddie about that just as soon as
he saw her. The first words out of her mouth ever should have been a claim to
Hell’s Eight.
“It doesn’t change the fact that she is.”
“Matter of fact,” Culbart continued, “she seemed quite pleased
to be with us. Set to homemaking right off. Started baking bread and even
demanded the ingredients so she could fix us a cake.”
Baking had become Maddie’s refuge. Caden didn’t find the news
comforting.
“She’s a right fine baker.”
“That she is. Hard thing to come by out here.”
“She can’t cook worth a damn, though.”
That was an idiosyncrasy that drove Tia crazy. She couldn’t
figure out how anyone who could bake a cake to light as a feather couldn’t
complete a meal without smoking up the house. It was a mystery to Caden,
too.
“I’ve already got a cook.”
And through that statement, Culbart let it be known he wasn’t
going to give Maddie up easily. It galled the shit out of Caden to even make the
suggestion, but his first duty was to Maddie, and if an exchange of cash would
do the job, then he’d do it.
“Hell’s Eight, of course, would be happy to compensate you for
your loss of a baker.”
Culbart leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers
before him, tapping them together. He gave even more of an impression of a bear,
and not a friendly one.
“Well, if it was just her baking skills that would be missed,
that might be adequate. But we’ve grown right fond of Miss Maddie.”
“We?”
“Myself and the boys. She’s a woman of many skills. We wouldn’t
want her going off just anywhere and maybe being unhappy because promises that
were made to her weren’t kept.”
The only promise Caden had made Maddie and hadn’t kept was the
one where he said he wouldn’t leave before she could say goodbye. That wasn’t
one he’d be breaking again.
“Then it appears to me we have a problem. You have something
that Hell’s Eight values highly.”
Culbart stopped tapping his fingers together. “It’s not Hell’s
Eight I see sitting here.”
“It doesn’t matter what you see, Culbart, it matters what is.
Maddie is Hell’s Eight and we want her back.”
“You’re not going to get anywhere with me with that
tactic.”
The derringer weighed heavily in his shirtsleeve. It would be
so easy to put a bullet between the other man’s eyes. “What tactic would you
like?”
“Well, boy, it appears to me that I have something you want,
and unless you come up with something I want, one of us is going to end this
meeting unhappy.”
Fuck. Nowhere in all the information he’d collected about
Culbart had anyone said the man wheeled and dealed, but looking into his eyes,
it was easy to see this was a skilled negotiator.
“What do you want, Culbart?”
“That’s not a very friendly attitude.”
Caden stood. “I’m not feeling friendly.”
Culbart remained sitting. “The Indians ran off with my prime
stud the other day.”
“And? You want me to get it back?”
“If I thought there was a chance in hell of that, I’d do it
myself, but I heard tell that stallion of yours threw a new foal that looks to
be just as promising as his dad.”
Dammit to hell and back. “That horse is worth more than this
whole ranch put together.”
Culbart shrugged, a shrewd look coming into his eyes while the
rest of his expression remained unchanged.
“You told me to name my price and I did. A stud for a filly.
Seems a fair trade to me.” Setting his glass on the table, he stood. “You can
get back to me in a couple days on it.”
That horse’d already been promised to someone else.
“We’ll settle this now.”
“Dickens,” Culbart hollered.
Dickens came through the door, a rifle cradled in his arms.
“Escort our guest off my property,” Culbart ordered.
What the hell? “I want to see Maddie.”
Culbart motioned Dickens forward. “You’re in no position to be
making demands.”
“If you’ve hurt her—”
“If I hurt her then all the threats in the world won’t undo
it.”
The son of a bitch. The only thing that kept Caden from tearing
into Culbart was Dickens’s rifle in his chest.
“Don’t do it, son.”
“I’m not your son.”
“No, you’re not, but I’d still advise against it.”
Caden snarled under his breath. Fuck it. Knocking the barrel
aside, he drove his fist into Dickens’s mouth. The man dropped to the ground,
the rifle clanking on the floor beside him. Caden turned, ignoring Dickens’s
curses.
“You’re going to regret this, Culbart.”
“Maybe.” Culbart stood and came over, stepping past Dickens’s
prone body, meeting the anger in Caden’s eyes without a flicker of fear. “But
Hell’s Eight aren’t the only ones who watch out for what’s theirs. Best you
remember that, lad, before you come back in two days.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
He placed his hand on the door. “It means when you come back,
you’d best bring your manners.”
“Fuck you.”
“Better ones than that.”
The door shut behind him with a decisive thud.
CHAPTER SIX
A
CE
WAS
WAITING
for him at the
campsite. In his hand he held four rabbit carcasses. Since Culbart knew they
were there, there was no need to hide their presence any longer.
“Is she there?” Ace asked
Caden nodded and dismounted. “As far as I can tell.” He pointed
to the carcasses. “Supper?”
“Beats jerky.”
It sure did.
“What does ‘as far as I can tell’ mean?” Ace asked.
Caden shook his head and dropped Jester’s reins to the ground
in a grassy spot, letting the horse graze. “The hell if I know.”
“Is she there or not?” Frustration bit through Ace’s tone.
Caden knew exactly how he felt.
“Oh, she’s there.”
“Is she all right?”
“I assume so.”
Ace’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell happened?”
Caden hunkered down on the opposite side of the fire. “We’ve
got an invite to come back in two days.”
“Why two days?”
“I don’t know.”
Ace sat back. “I knew I should have gone in.”
“You any good at avoiding a bullet from one inch away?” Caden
asked, cocking a brow at Ace.
“No. Then I wouldn’t go hoping to do any better.”
Caden shook his head again. “No, I didn’t get that
impression.”
Ace looked up. “Well, what exactly do you know?”
“That Culbart isn’t what we were led to believe.”
“He isn’t a conscienceless opportunist?” There was a touch of
mockery in Ace’s tone.
“I’ve got a pretty good idea he’s an opportunist, but it’s the
conscienceless part I’m not sure about.”
“That will complicate things.”
Caden grabbed some wood and threw it on the fire before
grabbing one of the rabbits off the rock. “Tell me about it.” It was always
cleaner to deal with scum. Caden took his knife from his sheath. The blade
glinted in the sun.
“There isn’t much to tell. I went in, pretended I was looking
to buy a filly and as soon as I said a redheaded one, Culbart knew what I was
talking about.”
“Then he has her.”
Caden nodded, remembering that glint in Culbart’s eye. He slid
the knife under the skin of the first rabbit. “Or knows where she is.”
“You didn’t demand to see her?” Ace took out his own knife.
“No, at that point we were in—” he gutted the rabbit in one
smooth motion “—negotiations.”
“Shit.”
Ace ripped his knife up the dead rabbit’s stomach with
controlled force. “Since when does Hell’s Eight bargain for what’s theirs?”
“Since we’re outnumbered twenty to one and Culbart has what we
want.”
“What’s he want for her?”
“Baron’s foal.”
Ace froze. “That horse is worth a king’s ransom. Every rancher
in five states and two territories is drooling over that foal.”
“I know.”
“Caine is counting on the money he makes from that sale to
cover next year’s expenses. Getting Shadow out of that mess drained the ranch’s
coffers.”
He knew that, too. “Then, I’ll have to make it up to him.”
Just one more reason the mine had to pay off.
“You didn’t tell him you’d trade, did you?”
No, but he would have. “He didn’t let me.”
Ace picked up one of the sharpened sticks propped against the
log they’d dragged over for a seat and passed it to Caden.
“Let me get this straight. The man has Maddie, but he won’t
show her to you, he makes an outrageous demand for her, but when you get set to
agree or disagree, he doesn’t let you answer?”
Caden took the stick and considered the point. It’d feel damn
good right then to shove it up Culbart’s ass. “Pretty much.”
“What the hell is his game?”
“I don’t know, but I’m guessing I’m going to find out in two
days.”
“Why the hell wait two days? Let’s just go in tonight and get
her.”
“While I was socializing, I had a chance to check out the
guards.”
“And?”
He slid the pointed stick into the carcass. “Culbart hires men
that would do Hell’s Eight proud.”
“Shit.” Ace grabbed a stick and skewered a carcass with it
before stabbing it into the ground in front of the fire. “So what are we going
to do?”
“I’m going back, and if he plays more games—” Caden looked up
“—I’m going to put an end to him.”
Ace relaxed. “That’s going to take planning.”
Caden smiled and placed the rabbit over the fire. “The man gave
us two days.”
* * *
T
WO
DAYS
LATER
Caden was back at the
Fallen C. His reception wasn’t any more welcoming than the first time around,
but then again, he hadn’t expected it to be. He nodded to Dickens as he stepped
up onto the porch. The man glared at him over his swollen mouth. He’d made an
enemy there. Caden didn’t care. He was wound up tighter than a clock. He wanted
in and out, with Maddie safe in his arms and this whole mess behind him.
Culbart’s expression wasn’t any more cheerful when he opened the door. When
Caden reached the top of the steps, the man cleared his throat. “Wipe your
boots.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said wipe your damn boots. Maddie doesn’t like it when you
track dirt through.”
Maddie didn’t like it? “She’s here?”
“Of course.” Culbart stepped back and motioned him in.
There was no “of course” about it. Caden stepped through the
door. The house smelled of beeswax and lemon and—he took a sniff—chocolate cake.
Culbart closed the door. Caden couldn’t help but notice the man was...groomed.
Gone was the mountain man of two days ago. In his place was a close
approximation of a successful businessman. His clothes were neat and pressed,
his beard and mustache were trimmed and his hair was cut. It still had a wild
look about it due to its natural wave, but it was noticeable that it had been
trimmed and combed. He wasn’t an ugly man.
Caden didn’t go another step. “What the hell is going on?”
Culbart ran his hand down his chest and then over his hair.
From the kitchen came an Irish ditty sung in a voice Caden would recognize
anywhere.
“Maddie!”
Culbart glared at him. “Don’t you be upsetting her. She’s been
preparing for two days for your visit.”
That preparation was evident in the well-scrubbed floors, the
dusted furniture set out in a new arrangement. That only left one question:
“Why?”
Culbart stubbed his toe on a newly placed hassock, glaring at
Caden again as if it was his fault.
“Damned if I know, but she wanted everything just perfect.”
Maddie, Caden decided, must have drifted into one of her
flights of fancy. “She does like order and a clean house.”
Culbart nodded. “Soothes her nerves.”
Stranger and stranger the picture got. A kidnapper worried
about his captive’s nerves?
“You got any more of that whiskey?” Caden asked.
“I do, but you won’t be seeing it.”
“Why is that?”
The question as rude as Culbart’s response.
“Because Maddie is preparing tea.”
“Tea?”
Culbart grimaced. “Swears it’s the thing all proper households
serve to guests.”
Caden hated tea. “So Tia says.”
“That’s a good woman, Tia.”
Why were they talking about Tia? “You know Tia?”
“I know what everyone knows, that she took you boys in, made
something of you.”
They liked to think they’d made something of themselves,
too.
“Not many women would do that,” Culbart said gruffly, going to
sit before he realized his chair had been moved. He swore under his breath.
“No, it takes a real big heart for that.”
“Yes, it does.” Culbart found his chair. “Good to hear she’s
married up with Ed. A woman like that needs a good man.”
There seemed a deeper significance to the words. “You thinking
of marrying?”
Culbart looked to the kitchen where Caden could make out
flashes of yellow as Maddie worked. “It crossed my mind.”
He’d better not be thinking with Maddie.
With a motion of his hand, the rancher indicated Caden should
sit. Caden did, waffling between rage and confusion, feeling a bit as if he’d
stepped into one of those fairylands in his da’s stories where everything should
be recognizable but wasn’t.
Culbart’s brows lowered over his eyes. “Maddie’s a good woman
with a big heart.”
That sounded like a warning.
“We’re fond of her.”
“Everyone? Not just you in particular?”
He wasn’t discussing his relationship with Maddie with anyone,
least of all her kidnapper. “What’s between Maddie and me is our business.”
The rancher’s face turned red. “I’m making it my business.”
Caden smiled. “Tough.”
Culbart came to his feet. “You ungrateful pup. I ought to take
you out back and beat some decency into you.”
Pup? Culbart was probably only five years older than him.
“You’re welcome to try.”
“Try my ass. Any man that’d take advantage of a sweet woman
like Maddie needs his ass kicked from here to Sunday.”
Sweet woman? “Who the hell said I took advantage of her?”
“Just because you’re Hell’s Eight doesn’t mean you can’t be
held accountable.”
Caden had heard a lot of things about Culbart, but not that he
was insane.
“Maddie!” Caden hollered. “Get out here!”
A fist connected with his jaw, knocking him ass over teakettle.
Culbart stood over him, fists clenched. “You will not be hollering at a lady in
my house.”
Son of a bitch, the bastard had made him see stars. Caden shook
his head to clear it and glared at Culbart. “Lady?”
Caden heard a scream and saw a flutter of yellow. Fuck.
Maddie.
“Step away from him, Maddie,” Culbart ordered, grabbing her
arm.
“Yes, Maddie. Step away.” Caden did not like the familiarity of
Culbart’s hand on her arm.
Maddie yanked at her arm. “Uncle Frank, what are you
doing?”
What the hell? Maddie had convinced herself Culbart was her
uncle?
“This man of yours. He needs some learning.”
Caden was still reeling from the “Uncle Frank” when he got hit
with “this man of yours.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked, shaking his
head to clear his vision as he grabbed his hat and struggled to his feet.
Culbart packed a punch.
“Caden!” Maddie bent down to help. Culbart grabbed her arm
again and pulled her back.
“There’ll be time enough for tender touches when I’m done with
him.”
Maddie stamped her foot. “You can’t hurt him. He’ll be all
bruised for the wedding.”
Wedding? Caden sat back down. “Who’s getting married?”
The door burst opened, Ace came in, guns drawn. “Nobody
move.”
“Ace!” Maddie said, a big smile on her face. “I’m so happy you
could make it!” She ran forward as if he weren’t pointing two six-shooters into
the room, catching his right hand in hers. Caden’s heart cramped. Ace’s guns had
hair triggers.
“Goddamn it, Maddie,” he yelled. “Get back.”
“Son of a bitch!” Ace jerked up the gun and pushed Maddie away.
As if she hadn’t just risked her life, she went flying back toward Ace, her face
glowing with happiness.
Ace swore and turned.
“You knock her one inch off balance, boy, and your head will be
rolling next,” Culbart growled.
“For the love of Pete, Maddie! Get off!”
A shadow came up behind Ace. Before Caden could call a warning,
Dickens brought the butt of his gun down on the back of Ace’s head. He went down
hard. Maddie grabbed Ace’s shoulders as he went down, landing in a heap on the
floor beneath him. Maddie glared at Caden as if it were all his fault as she
struggled free, and accused, “Shame on you, Caden, riding so hard that Ace is
completely tuckered out!”
Caden blinked and looked at Ace’s crumpled body. Maddie clearly
was on one of her mental journeys.
“Don’t you worry about it, Maddie,” Culbart soothed. “I’m sure
your fiancé isn’t any too tired to get hitched.”
“I’m not her fiancé.”
Maddie looked at him, her gaze so soft it could melt stone. A
tear hovered in her eye.
“I’m sorry, Caden, I know you didn’t want us telling anybody
just yet, but when Uncle Frank found me, he wanted to know why I was out alone.
I had no choice but to reveal our elopement.”
Caden swore and got to his feet. She had it wrapped up as
pretty as a picture. “You know damn well I’d never leave any fiancée of mine to
travel alone,” he growled at Culbart.
“I don’t know shit, son, except that pretty lady over there
thinks you made her promises and she’s expecting me to make sure you keep
them.”
“Maddie?” She didn’t answer. Caden ran his hand through his
hair. “She’s not right in the head.”
“She seemed clear enough to me,” Culbart countered. “Especially
when she described your sleeping habits.”
“She sneaks into my room in the middle of the night!”
Ace groaned and rolled over. Maddie gasped. Culbart jerked his
chin up. “That’s enough for me. Dickens,” he barked. “Let the preacher in.”
Caden rubbed his jaw, wincing at the immediate ache.
Fuck!
Dickens stepped aside, making room for another of Culbart’s
men. Both he and Dickens kept their guns trained on him while a third, wearing a
preacher’s collar, brought up the rear.
Caden shook his head, capturing Maddie’s gaze with his.
“I’m not marrying you, Maddie.”
She stared at him for the longest second, her expression as
soft as dandelion fluff, before smiling with all the sweetness he remembered,
and said with perfect clarity, “You don’t have a choice.”
* * *
A
FUCKING
SHOTGUN
WEDDING
.
Caden jerked at his bound hands as he stood in front of the
preacher. Maddie stood beside him, soft and sweet in her yellow dress, smiling
up to him as if there weren’t men pointing guns at him from all directions and
Culbart wasn’t standing over there looking like a cat that just ate the cream.
They’d dragged Ace out to clean him up when Maggie declared blood bad luck at
the wedding.