Marshal of Hel Dorado (28 page)

 
    
As if summoned by her thoughts, her blonde
brother dropped into a sprawl next to her.

 
    
He’d barely let her out of his sight, even
when she’d simply needed to relieve herself. His bedroll was parked next to hers
or he simply curled up alongside her in wolf form. She’d thought it would be
different in the mountains, but his demanding behavior worsened.

 
    
“Good morning,” she offered, hoping for
peace. She’d scared him, she knew that, but it didn’t explain his hovering or
nipping at her heels.

 
    
“Morning. You should have told me you were
coming down here.” His wolf-yellow eyes admonished her.

 
    
“I come down to the lake all the time.
We’re home.”

 
    
“It doesn’t matter.” Cody shook his head.
His hair had lengthened over the last few months, falling to his shoulders.
He’d shaved, thankfully, the blonde hair beard having emphasized his wolfish
appearance.

 
    
“Cody,” Scarlett scowled. “We’re home. I’m
safe
.”

 
    
He ignored her, reaching out to loop a lock
of her hair over his finger. “They were going to hang you Scarlett.”

 
    
“But they didn’t. And if you listened to me
at all, you would know that the Marshal didn’t want to. He was trying to keep
me safe.” Mentioning Sam was the wrong thing to do, Cody’s eyes narrowed and
his jaw set.

 
    
“I want you to forget about him.”

 
    
“Why?” The weight of his badge pressed
against her chest. She’d been surprised to find the Marshal’s star still in her
pocket where she’d tucked it away in the cave. She’d forgotten about it when
Micah arrived and again when she’d changed her clothes at the ranch house.
She’d smuggled it away in her rolled up clothes.

 
    
She’d discovered it two days away from the
Flying K, hiding it from her brothers for fear that Cody would take it away.
She’d tried to explain about the Kanes, but Cody always interrupted, cutting
her off.

 
    
“You’re not going to see him again,” Cody
tugged the lock of her hair. Despite the chill of the morning air, he was
bare-chested and wore only a pair of loose breeches. Even his feet were bare as
though he’d woken, and come to check on her first thing.

 
    
It wouldn’t be the first time.

 
    
She’d taken to waking earlier and earlier
for fear of finding his yellow eyes on her when she woke up. Buck warned her
that the wolf was riding him hard, but in the ten days since they’d been
reunited, the wolf had been worse.

 
    
Not better.

 
    
“And Wyatt’s still angry with you.” Their
eldest brother was angry with all of them. He’d met them at the foot of the
mountain, cool gaze meeting each of theirs until even Scarlett had looked away.
He’d said nothing, only riding over to Scarlett’s side, forcing Cody away until
he could reach out his fingers to touch her chin.

 
    
When she’d looked at Wyatt again, his one
blue eye and one brown eye carried no censure. “You don’t leave again.”

 
    
It was worse than if he’d yelled.

 
    
She shivered. “You mean Wyatt’s angry with
you.”

 
    
“He’s right to be angry with me.
I
shouldn’t have let you go. It was my
fault. It won’t happen again.”

 
    
“As if you could have stopped me.” Scarlett
slapped his hand away from her hair and rolling to her feet. “I’m not a child.”

 
    
Cody bounced to his own feet, forcing
Scarlett to look up at him. Like Sam, he was tall, but his build was leaner
muscle, sleek, like the wolf he could become. “You aren’t a child and that’s
the problem.” Cody growled, pacing towards her.

 
    
Flames flickered around Scarlett’s fingers
as she dodged out of his reach. “Then stop treating me like a child.”

 
    
The chill air steamed around them.

 
    
“The last thing I want to do is treat you
like a child,” Cody’s low words cut through her temper. He took advantage of
her surprise and wrapped his arms around her. She extinguished the flames as
her hands impacted the hard wall of muscle that made up his chest.

 
    
She didn’t want to hurt him.

 
    
“Cody?” Uncertainty flickered in her
breast.

 
    
He bent his head down and touched his lips
to hers, whispering. “I
know
you’re
not a child.”

 
    
 
No.

 
    
 
No.

 
    
 
No.

 
    
Scarlett’s mind scrambled. Cody’s lips
pressed against hers in unwelcome invitation.

 
    
Fisting her hands, she struck him hard
once, then twice. Heat scorched through her skin and Cody released her
abruptly, yelping.

 
    
He clapped a hand to his mouth, the yellow
in his eyes bleeding away to brown. Fire raced over her skin, the grass around
her feet wilted to yellow and then blasted over, felled by the heat. Rocks
along the lake edge popped and sizzled. The mare lifted her head and screamed
alarm as smoke from Scarlett’s shirt began to billow.

 
    
Cody rushed forward and shoved her, full
body into the icy water. The slap of cold shocked her and the flames went out.
Scarlett splashed up, spitting water out of her mouth, her hair soaked hair
clung to her and her shirt lay in tatters against her bare chest, barely
decent.

 
    
She stared at her brother. Blisters stung
the skin around his mouth and across his chest were splashes of red, burns
inflicted by the pounding of her fists. Her fury evaporated.

 
    
“Cody…”

 
    
But it was too late, he abandoned her to
wade back to the shore. Her teeth chattered as the cold seeped into her skin,
flushing the last of the fire from her ravaged soul. She’d burned Cody.

 
    
Oh God. She’d burned him.

 
    
She scrambled up onto the shore, but her
headlong race to follow him paused when Quanto stepped out from behind a tree.
His long, feathery silver hair caught the sun’s early light.

 
    
The aged wisdom in his face carried only
kindness. He held up a hand, the mottled flesh a testament to Scarlett’s loss
of control as a child.

 
    
“Let him go, child. It is a hard lesson to
learn, but one he needs.”

 
    
“I hurt him, Father.”

 
    
“He will heal. His wolf is strong.” Quanto
paused to stroke a hand over Dawn’s neck, soothing the startled animal.

 
    
“I didn’t mean—I mean—” Scarlett’s heart
tripped.

 
    
“Shh, child. Your brother needs to learn
that he is your brother. But the wolf holds him too close and sees you as more
than a sister and has for too long now.” Quanto’s gentle smile didn’t ease the
harsh reality of his words. Cody didn’t see her as a sister. She’d known he’d
been acting differently for a while, but…

 
    
Ice crawled around her heart, squeezing it.
She sat down abruptly, barely aware of the lake water slapping against her bare
feet.

 
    
Cody.

 
    
“Tell me about your Marshal.” The command
was kind, but unmistakable. He walked down to the lakeside and draped a simple
blanket over her shoulders before dropping to sit in Cody’s abandoned place. He
drew his legs up, the suppleness of his posture belying his great age.

 
    
“How did you know?”

 
    
“You have dreamed of no one else, Scarlett.
How could I not know?”

 
    
I
t
was late on the fourteenth day of their hunt when Kid held up his hand, slowing
their progress. They’d entered the mountains two days before, riding a
circuitous route through passes neither Sam nor Micah had even noticed, but Kid
discovered with seeming little effort. Sam studied his youngest brother, since
confessing about the wolf, the tension between them had eased. He was still
angry with Kid for helping Scarlett get away, angrier still that they’d lost
days on their trail because of it, but he almost understood why.

 
    
“They’re close.” Kid said quietly,
motioning to the trail that angled upwards, disappearing into the cool, dark
green pines.

 
    
“You sure?” Micah asked, tipping his hat
back to look upwards. The mountains stretched up towards the heavens, sleeping
behemoths that dared a man’s soul.

 
    
“As sure as I can be.” Kid shrugged,
pulling off his own hat to scrub a hand over his face.

 
    
They were all shaggy now, bearded and
likely unfit for fine company although Sam had long since stopped noticing the
smell of unwashed bodies. A dip in the stream was refreshing, but they’d run
out of clean clothes and they smelled more of sweat and horse than verbena and
soap.

 
    
Sam stood in the saddle, stretching his
tired legs and aching back as he strained to get a better view of the
mountainside. The sun had already slipped behind the mountains, leaving long
shadows to fall over the valley they rode through.

 
    
“We should make camp for the night,” Micah
dropped his hat onto the pommel of his saddle. “There’s no telling how many
switchbacks we’ll have to follow on our way up and I’d rather do that in the
light of day.”

 
    
A fresh wave of frustration squeezing his
guts, Sam agreed. “Wood. Horses. Water.” Sam pointed first to Kid, then Micah
and finally himself. Ten straight nights of camping together and they traded
the chores of setting up camp easily. He dismounted, passing his reins to Micah
and gathering both brothers water skins.

 
    
Fortunately, the mountains boasted of a
large number of streams and rock pools with crystal clear, ice-cold water from
the snow melt above. It was a respite from the arid heat and blistering sun
they’d left behind. They’d picket the horses near the fire and pull water to
them, avoiding predators who liked to visit watering holes at night.

 
    
Water skins slung over his shoulder, Sam
tested the air and followed the rich scent of moisture. He unclipped the strap
over his gun, freeing it to be drawn as needed. Brush and bushes hugged the
forest floor in and around the thick trees, but fat root systems created
makeshift paths. Sam just followed the roots to the water, he could hear
trickling as well as scent.

 
    
It was full dusk when he knelt down at the
water’s edge. Cupping a chilly handful, he tasted it. Fresh, clean and without
a hint of brackishness. He filled the water skins to near bursting before
shoving his face into the water, rinsing away a day’s worth of sweat and grime.

 
    
He combed the wet hair back from his hair
and rolled his palm down his face.

 
    
They might make a bath out of this camp
yet. He dipped both hands into the water, pulling them up for another drink and
watched the shadows. No night birds called. No day birds trilled as they
settled in. No tiny feet scrabbled the landscape as the smaller animals
ventured out to hunt or gather.

 
    
The woods were silent, save for the trickle
of water. He couldn’t even hear Kid or Micah.

 
    
Sam scrubbed damp hands through his hair
and eased back his coat. The weight of the pistol’s pearl handle was warm
against his palm. He stood slowly, drawing the gun during the upward motion.