Shadow Walker (3 page)

Thank God Billy rarely returned to the hideout, Dawn thought as she measured out the last bit of coffee in the can, poured it into the iron coffeepot, and fired up the stove with the last of the firewood.

The one luxury in the tiny cabin was the cook-stove, and Dawn constantly blessed the previous owners for leaving it behind. It provided welcome warmth in the winter when wind-driven snow blasted through the cracks in the walls and shuttered windows.

Cole returned with a knapsack and placed it on the dry sink. “It’s not much. A few potatoes, an onion, bacon and beans. I think there’s a bit of flour and sugar, too. Can you manage?”

Dawn laughed without humor. “It’s far more than I’m accustomed to.”

Cole turned away, unable to hide the pity he felt for her. “I need to tend to my horse. I’ll put him in the lean-to with your mule. Is there hay inside for Warrior?”

“There’s plenty of hay. Billy treated his animals better than he did me.”

Cole grunted, oddly distressed by the picture her words conjured. What had the bastard done to her besides use her for a punching bag? he wondered as he left the cabin. What had he allowed his men to do? Dawn was as skittish as a young colt, distrustful of men and hurt in ways few people would understand. She was like a fragile, broken doll, her spirit destroyed and her soul injured beyond repair.

Dawn knew what Cole was thinking but didn’t care. Let him think she was helpless; it served her
purpose. Let him believe she was broken in spirit and sick at heart. She’d have the last laugh when she left here with the money Billy had stolen. After Billy’s vicious beating today, Dawn realized she couldn’t continue like this. She had spied on him when he hid the train loot the day he’d arrived at the cabin, and prayed for him to leave on some errand or other so she could retrieve it and run away.

Unfortunately, Billy’s hand had been heavier than usual and it had taken her longer this time to recover from his beating. By the time she’d roused herself from her stupor, Cole Webster had arrived and temporarily put her plans on hold. It was imperative now that she get rid of the lawman before the members of Cobb’s gang arrived for their share of the loot.

Dawn worked efficiently and silently, using the ingredients Cole had provided for their meal. She fried the bacon and used the grease to fry together the potatoes and onion. There was enough flour for a batch of biscuits, and she shoved them into the oven to bake. Supper was on the table by the time Cole walked through the door. They ate in silence, each consumed with their own thoughts.

“That was good,” Cole said, leaning back and draining the last of his coffee.

“Thank you,” Dawn said as she sopped up a bit of grease with her biscuit and popped it into her mouth. One biscuit remained on the plate and she eyed it hungrily. But she’d been conditioned by Cobb not to take anything he might want for himself. Sometimes he made her watch him eat just
to humiliate her for her failure to please him sexually.

Cole saw the direction of her gaze and swallowed the lump of pity forming in his throat. “I couldn’t manage another bite. Go ahead and eat that last biscuit. I’ll ride into Dodge for supplies first thing in the morning. Look for me around lunchtime.”

Dawn nodded agreement. Pride was for fools to indulge in, and she was no fool. She was a survivor. She would survive long after Cole was gone. And she’d have money to buy all the food she could eat.

“I have no money to pay for food,” Dawn said, licking the last bit of crumbs from her fingers.

Cole’s body reacted in a way he’d never expected at the sight of Dawn’s pink tongue lapping over and between her fingers until she’d cleaned them of every last crumb. He shifted uncomfortably and tried not to think of all the other things she could do with her tongue. The girl was an outlaw’s woman, for God’s sake. Willing or not, she had lain with Cobb and God only knew how many others. She’d lied about the money, and for all he knew she was as much a part of the gang as the other members.

“Did I ask for money? I don’t expect you to provide my food while I’m here. Your cupboards are bare, you can’t even feed yourself. Of course,” he hinted, “you could save us all a lot of trouble if you would show me where Cobb hid the money.”

“I’d tell you if I knew,” Dawn said, giving him a sullen glare. “Go ahead and search, you’ll find
nothing. Why don’t you leave now? Searching is a waste of time.”

“Nice try, Dawn, but it won’t work. I have a keen sense about these things, and my gut tells me the money is here. I’m being paid to recover that money, and I’m damn well going to do it. It would be a lot easier on both of us if you cooperated. You have no reason to remain loyal to Cobb after what he did to you. What do you plan to do, turn the loot over to the gang members after taking Cobb’s share for yourself?”

No, I’m going to keep all of it, Dawn thought fiercely. Aloud, she asked, “How long do you intend to remain here?”

“For as long as it takes.” He turned toward the door. “I’ll bed down in the shed. Good night, Dawn.”

Dawn watched Cole leave, the corners of her mouth turned downward into a scowl. Just when something good happened to her, that brash railroad man had to show up and spoil everything. For five long, desperate years she’d prayed for Cobb’s death. Twice she had tried to run away and twice she’d been dragged back and beaten until she couldn’t walk. Now that she had the opportunity and means to leave this vile place of pain and humiliation, Cole Webster was going to take it all away from her.

Dawn paced the cramped confines of the cabin, too nervous to sleep, too restless to remain cooped up. The night was exceptionally balmy, the moon bright and inviting. She knew the river would be warm and soothing on her abraded back and buttocks, and on the spur of the moment she decided
to slip out and bathe. During the times Cobb used the cabin as a hideout, Dawn deliberately made herself appear unappealing to her husband and his cohorts. She would let days go by without combing her hair, changing her clothes or washing. Only when Cobb was gone did she groom herself with any care, not that it mattered. She rarely saw another living being during Cobb’s absences.

Dawn found a ragged piece of linen, a sliver of soap and a clean dress only slightly less threadbare than the one she wore. Cobb wasn’t one to spend his money on unnecessary fripperies. She slipped barefoot through the front door and followed the well-trodden path to the river.

Cole awoke with a start. Trained by the Sioux to hear a twig snap even in sleep, he peered through the darkness for the source of the almost silent footsteps. He saw a wraithlike figure heading toward the river, and alarm bells went off in his head. Rising as quietly as a shadow, he followed noiselessly.

Dawn stood on the sloping riverbank, pausing in a rare moment of delight as a million silvery moonbeams danced upon the water’s dark surface. It was so seldom that anything in this life gave her joy that she savored the unique feeling. Had she a romantic soul she would have said that this was a night for lovers. The air was warm and humid, scented with the aroma of prairie flowers.

But Dawn had never believed in fairy tales. Happiness didn’t exist in this life, and love was for dreamers. Only fools dared to dream. Since Dawn was a half-breed and the wife of a brutal outlaw, she couldn’t afford to indulge in fantasies. Sighing with visible regret, Dawn cleared her mind of foolish thoughts and pulled her baggy dress over her head. She wore nothing underneath.

Cole hovered discreetly behind a clump of
bushes, watching, waiting, convinced that Dawn intended to retrieve the train robbery money from its hiding place and disappear into the star-studded night. His lungs emptied harshly when he saw her pull off her ragged garment and toss it aside. She was naked.

Poised on the sloping bank, Dawn raised her face to the moon. Cole tried to look away but couldn’t. She was thin, too thin. He hadn’t realized that she was so fine-boned, so delicate. Her back was long and shapely, her buttocks taut and … His gaze jerked back up to her back, then down again to her buttocks. Sweet Lord! Her back and buttocks were scored with raw welts. Earlier Cole had speculated on whether Cobb had abused Dawn’s body as well as her face, and now he knew.

Suddenly Dawn turned slightly, providing Cole with a tantalizing view of her breasts. He sucked his breath in sharply. They were perfect. Round, lush and golden, with nipples the color of dark honey. They tilted impudently upward, delicious and tempting. Cole’s mouth went dry and he turned away. When he looked back, Dawn had waded into the water and was rubbing herself briskly with soap. He could see the lather bubbling on her skin and imagined himself rinsing it off her sweet body with his hands.

Cole’s eyes turned a predatory green as he watched Dawn wash and rinse her long black hair, fascinated by the graceful arching of her body. His own body hardened and he stifled a groan as she waded to shore and rubbed herself dry with a scrap of cloth. His disappointment was keen when she donned a clean dress and traced her steps
back to the cabin. He didn’t follow until much later, after he’d taken a dip in the bracing water to cool his heated flesh.

Who would have thought a skinny, abused wretch, a liar and possibly a thief, could make him feel things he hadn’t felt since Morning Mist’s death? He shook his head to clear it of Dawn’s image. He had lived too long with the memory of his dead wife to replace it with that of another woman.

An outlaw’s wife.

Cole made his way slowly back to the shed and went to bed, but for some reason sleep eluded him. His mind kept returning to the river and the golden, shimmering figure with perfect breasts poised upon the bank. The sight of her whiplashed flesh had angered him to the point of violence. It made him wish he could bring Billy Cobb back to life and tear him limb from limb, slowly, inflicting great pain.

Cole slipped from his bedroll just as dawn kissed the sky, and rode to Dodge. His first stop in town was the grocery store. He was waiting outside the door when it opened at eight. After placing his order, he went to the livery stable to retrieve Cobb’s horse. He figured Dawn needed it more than he did. He left Dodge a few hours later with two gunnysacks bulging with supplies slung over the withers of Cobb’s horse. Since he wouldn’t have time to hunt, he had purchased salted and cured meats as well as dried and canned foodstuffs, flour, sugar, salt and coffee. Enough to last two weeks.

Cole didn’t want to concern himself with Dawn’s
future, or wonder what would become of her after he left. It wasn’t his worry, he told himself, that Dawn had no money, no family, nothing. He decided to treat this assignment like any other he’d worked on. Once he recovered the stolen money, he’d forget that Dawn had ever existed.

Dawn slept later than she would have wished. When she finally roused from sleep, Cole was already gone and the sun was rising in the eastern sky. She had lain awake a long time last night, planning her escape with the train robbery money. She’d been overjoyed when Cole had said he was riding into Dodge this morning for supplies. With any luck he wouldn’t return for several hours. In his absence she would have sufficient time to retrieve the money from its hiding place and light out of here on Old Betsy, the swaybacked mule that had carried her here five years ago as Billy’s reluctant bride.

Using the last of the water in the bucket, Dawn washed her hands and face and cleaned her teeth. Still moving somewhat stiffly from the beating she’d received the day before, she walked outside into the sunshine. She paused on the doorstep, experiencing a moment of guilt. She knew that taking money that didn’t belong to her was wrong, but she was desperate. She smiled in anticipation of her flight.

“Howdy, Dawn.”

The smile melted from Dawn’s face as she stared in horror at her unwelcome visitor. Duke Riley! She had hoped the other gang members
wouldn’t show up so soon. Duke grinned at her as he boldly approached the cabin.

“Hello, Duke. What brings you around?” Calm, stay calm, Dawn cautioned herself.

Duke Riley was young, no more than twenty-five, but as mean and ornery as any of the three outlaws who rode with Billy Cobb. He was tall, lean, and not too bad looking. He considered himself something of a ladies’ man, and Dawn had always been wary of the hungry looks he gave her when Cobb wasn’t watching.

“Where’s Billy? Am I the first to arrive? Can’t wait to get my hands on my share of the loot.”

Dawn blanched. She had to get rid of Duke quickly or miss her chance to leave before Cole returned.

Dawn wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt and swallowed uneasily. “Billy is dead, Duke. He was ambushed by a lawman when he left the cabin yesterday.”

Duke’s expression turned ugly. “Dead! Shit! Where’s the money? Cobb wasn’t dumb. He must have hidden the money somewhere.” His eyes narrowed on Dawn, his gaze sliding down her body with insulting intensity. “Be real good to me, and I’ll see that you get Billy’s share.”

Dawn’s mouth went dry. She wanted nothing to do with Duke Riley, or any other man. “I don’t know about any money. Billy didn’t confide in me.”

Duke’s eyes went murky. Closing the distance between them, he grasped Dawn’s wrist and pulled her up against him. “Are you sure, darlin’? Damn sure?”

Dawn’s chin rose defiantly. “I’m sure.”

His voice was rough and low with implied promise. “If I give you a little lovin’, will you remember where Cobb hid the money? You always did fancy me. I know I fancied you. I remember how Cobb always bragged about how hot you were. How you hollered and cried and dug bloody grooves down his back when he was rutting between your legs. He said you couldn’t get enough, that you had to have it all night long. Hot damn!” He licked his lips. “I could use a little of that.”

His hands settled on her waist, dragging her so close she could feel the hard ridge beneath his trousers.

“Let me go!”

“Not on your life.” His mouth jammed down hard on hers. When he tried to push his tongue into her mouth, she bit down hard on it. “Ow, you little bitch! Don’t play hard to get with me. Your man’s dead. You got no one to take care of you. You ain’t no beauty. It ain’t gonna be easy findin’ another man.