Devils on Horseback: Gideon, Book 5 (4 page)

With a mighty heave, he levered the wagon up. The strain forced a primal roar out of his mouth that echoed around them. Within seconds, Chloe had one stump then the other wedged under the wagon and had scooted away.

“I’m clear.”

Although he wanted to drop it, Gideon slowly lowered the wagon, hearing every pop and creak the wood made. By the time the thing was resting on the stumps, he was shaking and sweating. Chloe thumped each one and then looked up at him.

“I guess it worked.” She rose and peered at him. “Appears you need some vittles after all. I’ll get the wheel off while you go get yourself some breakfast.”

“I’m not leaving you here to take off that wheel alone.” The very idea made his temper rise. “What kind of man do you think I am?”

“One who just levered up that wagon by himself. I ain’t never seen the like.” Chloe sounded impressed. “Now get some food in you. Taking off the wheel ain’t no big job.”

Gideon was a little flustered by her assessment of him. It took him a few moments to recover. “I’d rather you wait. That wagon could come down on you, and where would Granny and the girls be without you?” He pointed at the new wheel propped up at the other side of the wagon. “If you want to do something, grease up the new wheel and the axles.”

She wanted to tell him to go to hell, he could see it in her face, but she merely shrugged and snatched up the bucket that had pine tar in it. The woman was testing his patience, stomping on his last nerve—no doubt he was having the same effect on her. Gideon could attribute the passion between them for the incredible sex they’d shared in the wagon. That passion obviously would lead to nothing but trouble for either of them.

He walked toward the others, feeling the burn of Chloe’s stare on his back again. It was as sharp as her tongue. Granny stood at the fire, wooden spoon in hand and a frown on her face to match her granddaughter’s. Yep, the Ruskins definitely needed to be on their way.

“What kinda fool starts his work without a good meal under his belt?”

The two little moppets sat on the same log as the night before, chewing on what appeared to be jerky. They stared at him without blinking, which spooked him just a bit.

“The kinda fool who wants everyone to get going to where they need to be.” He sat down and reached for the coffee pot. Granny rapped his knuckles with the spoon.

“That’s powerful hot, and we don’t need no burns to add to our troubles.” She used the apron, which he noticed was thin enough he could see her hand through it, to pour him a cup of coffee. “I’ve got cornpone from last night and some jerky. Ain’t got no sugar to speak of, but the coffee is hot.”

“That’s all I need. I’m mighty grateful for it too.” He accepted a plate with a huge piece of cornpone and a few stringy-looking pieces of jerky. The family barely had enough to feed themselves and here they were giving him two meals’ worth of food in one. “I can’t take this much.”

“We only got a few hundred miles to go. Asides, we cain’t pay you for your help, and a Ruskin always settles their debt.” She said something to the girls low enough for him to miss, and they scurried off toward the creek.

Gideon’s mouth dried up as he wondered if the wooden spoon was about to crack him over the head. What if Chloe had told her grandmother about their midnight sex? What if Granny pulled out a shotgun and pointed it at his head? Was he ready to make a lifetime commitment to a girl he barely knew?

“Cornpone is good.” He avoided looking at the older woman, hoping like hell she would simply start cleaning up or begin some other chore. Her stare was more powerful than the coffee, for pity’s sake.

“Chloe made it. I cain’t cook much no more with the pains in my fingers. She learned all her female skills along with the man ones like hunting.” Granny sat down with her own cup of coffee and continued to stare at him. “You like her?”

Gideon choked on the food, nearly sucking a big piece of it into his lungs. Granny pounded on his back while his eyes watered and his lungs ached for air. He finally got a breath in and swallowed the rest of the bite. He gulped some hot coffee, partially soothing his battered throat.

“Don’t go and die on me now. You’re too big to hoist into the wagon to get you to an undertaker, and we don’t have no shovel to bury you.” Granny sat back down and eyeballed him some more. “You like her?” she repeated.

This time Gideon was ready for the question. “Chloe?”

“Yes, Chloe. Don’t play stupid with me, Mr. Blackwood.”

He thought about how to answer her and again wondered if she knew about the shenanigans in the wagon. “She’s strong, smart and full of pride. Her mouth is sharper than an axe, and she’s ornery as the mules she tends.”

To his surprise, Granny smiled. “Good. You do like her.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to. I can read it in your eyes when you talk about her.” Granny cackled like a seasoned witch. “I’ll be damned.”

Apparently, so would Gideon.

Bossy, that’s what he was. Bossy and demanding. Chloe was trying to think of better words for Gideon as she greased up the axles, but she didn’t have much in the way of book learning to draw from. He drove her to cussing beneath the dang wagon while he sat there with Granny and ate the vittles Chloe had made.

He’d practically run the other direction from her when he finally emerged from the wagon. Heck, he hadn’t even looked at her as he headed toward the creek. Obviously, her skills under the sheets were not only forgettable, they were enough to send a man running. Chloe had made the choice to be with him and wouldn’t regret it, no matter what. Gideon was likely wishing she hadn’t, but that was too damn bad. There was no way to unring that bell. Chloe was no longer a virgin.

Granny had always been worried Chloe’s first time would be with some cowpoke or drifter raping her. It gave her a certain satisfaction to know she had chosen when and with whom to lose her untouched status. It was an experience she could easily get used to if he was her husband. The very thought of actually marrying Gideon made her snort so hard, she almost sucked in a lungful of tar.

“You need some help, little one?”

She rolled her eyes at his question. “Greasing up an axle is easy, remember?” She crawled from beneath the wagon with the bucket in one hand and a handful of grease in the other. “My fingers can manage to grease up a stick.”

As soon as she realized what she said, as well as the state of her hand, Chloe’s cheeks heated. She never,
ever
blushed, and now that she’d given herself to this stranger, her cheeks heated too easily. Thinking about greasing up a stick next to the very wagon in which she’d touched his stick embarrassed her.

Gideon looked at her hands, and for just a moment she felt the heat from it; then he turned away so fast he kicked up a cloud of dust with his boots. She didn’t know whether to throw the grease at him or make him kiss her.

What had being with him done to her?

“I’ll, uh, get started on the wheel now.” He tugged on the lug bolt she’d greased and kept his back to her.

Chloe wiped the leftover grease on her hand back into the bucket and used a rag to get her fingers mostly clean. The trip from Virginia had been rough and hard, but that was the physical side of it. The long hours, the constant danger from everyone and everything, the fear for the future, all of that came crashing down on Chloe, and she sat down in the dirt heavily.

Gideon continued to ignore her, which suited her just fine. He didn’t need to see her struggling to find her bearings. She didn’t like emotions and all the confusion they caused. If only she hadn’t found what she wanted but couldn’t keep—Gideon. After a minute or two of pure self-pity and stupidity, she mentally pulled herself up by her drawers and got on her feet. Sooner the wheel got swapped, the sooner she could leave him behind.

Of course when she glanced at him, he was squatting, and she had to notice his behind was nicely muscled, quite perfect. Then she noticed his shoulders were nearly as wide as the damn wheel.

Hell and crackers. What was wrong with her?

She knelt by the other wheels and checked to make sure they were greased enough, anything to keep her mind from acting loco. Gideon was only a few feet away, and every movement he made, from his breath to his grunts, echoed across her skin. She was ready to give up and run like a coward, and since she was already a fool, running wasn’t going to make her look any less foolish.

He pushed the new wheel on and spread the grease on the axle, sliding his hands on the shaft as the wheel moved into place. Chloe watched his movement, mesmerized by his long, strong fingers. She knew their touch firsthand. It was a good thing all she had to do was wait for him to finish and wipe her hands clean.

He finished securing the lug bolt and turned to her. “Rag?”

Chloe threw it at him rather than get close enough to hand it to him. Unfortunately it hit him square in the face. She winced inwardly but didn’t apologize. He wasn’t being particularly nice either so it served him right to get a little dirty.

“Thanks, little one. That was mighty nice of you.” His sarcasm was sharper than the knife in her boot.

“Anytime. I’m always willing to help out a fellow human being.”

Gideon grunted and threw the rag back at her. She tried to snatch it from the air, but it ended up on her hat instead. He made a choking noise like he was holding in a laugh. She narrowed her eyes and took off her hat. A huge stain from the grease marked the top, which would be impossible to remove.

“You ruined it.”

This time he snorted out loud. “That hat was ruined long before I got here.”

“It was a perfectly good hat and cost me nothing. I found it on our way out of Virginia.”

“Then the previous owner had smarts enough to leave it behind.”

“You’re not being nice.”

“Neither are you.” He rose to his feet, and she did too, even if she only reached his chin.

“Let’s get this done, then, and you can be on your way, Mr. Blackwood. Obviously the company ain’t fitting for a man with such good taste.” She would never let him know how much his comments hurt, made her feel he was looking down his nose at her. After all, he was a highfalutin stranger, and she was the daughter of a dirt farmer with nothing but a broken-down wagon, an old woman and two little girls.

Gideon and Chloe worked in awkward silence from then on. He levered up the wagon, and she got the stumps out from underneath quickly. He let the wagon down slowly, his muscles straining with each inch. She found herself again entranced by the way his body moved—the strength of his arms and shoulders astounded her. While she wanted to be angry with him, her body betrayed her head completely.

When the wagon was finally on all four wheels again, it let loose a mighty wooden groan. Chloe whooped and threw her greasy hat in the air. After being stuck for nearly a week, they’d be on their way that day. For the first time in a while, she experienced a rush of happiness, and it was all due to Gideon Blackwood.

Chloe threw her arms around him and whooped again. He twirled her around, and somehow his mouth landed on hers. The celebratory kiss made her toes curl.

Then Granny shouted her name with clear panic in her voice.

Gideon dropped her to her feet with a horrified look on his face. She turned and ran toward her grandmother. Granny never panicked,
never
. The older woman stood alone at the campfire, wringing her hands. Chloe ran faster—Granny also never wrung her hands.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s the girls. They weren’t back from washing their hands ten minutes ago. I went to find them, and they’re gone.”

Chloe’s mouth went dry. Those girls were young and innocent. They likely wandered off and got lost. “I’ll find them. Probably lost their way.” As she walked toward the woods, Granny grabbed her arm.

“They ain’t lost. There’s boot prints and horse tracks all around the bank. Somebody took them.”

Chloe’s heart dropped to her feet. “What do you mean somebody took them?”

“I ain’t a tracker, but I know what the bank looked like this morning, and there wasn’t any tracks like that.” Granny looked to Gideon. “You have any tracking skills?”

“Not as good as my cousin, but I’ve a fair amount. I’ll find them.” He took off running toward the woods.

Chloe was right on his heels. There was no way she was going to let him find those girls without her.

The Ruskin quagmire kept getting deeper. Just as soon as he’d fixed the damn wagon, the little moppets disappeared. Gideon wanted to get to Nate’s, but he was pulled in again to help the little family. The girls were innocent, of course, unless they engineered their own disappearance, which was ridiculous. Even the most devious five-year-old could not create horseshoe tracks or man-sized shoeprints in the mud in ten minutes.

More than likely, if they’d seen strangers, the girls would have hidden somewhere. Maybe got lost on their way back to the campfire. Hopefully he’d find them in a short time and then get the wagon loaded so the Ruskins could be on their way and he could continue on his journey.

Life, however, never seemed to follow the most logical path, even if he wished for it hard enough his head ached. He heard Chloe running behind him, which he expected, of course. The strong-willed woman would not allow anything to happen that she didn’t have control over. She was like a short version of himself. He let loose a snort at the thought—she was nothing like him beneath the potato-sack dress, that was for sure.

He needed to focus on the task at hand and not the confusing, enticing Chloe Ruskin and the memory of her lips on his five minutes ago. Hell, he could still taste her, and fool that he was, he licked his lips, making his dick twitch.

Focus, Captain, focus
.

Gideon hit the woods with a good head of steam. The smell of the loamy earth surrounded him. The leaves on the sun-dappled forest floor muffled the sound of his boots. He heard the water burbling ahead and took the path the girls had likely followed. It was the most direct route. When he was twenty feet away, he slowed down, and Chloe plowed into his back, nearly knocking him over.