Authors: Em Petrova
Kathleen shifted uneasily. Her posture was stiff. Graham hated the worry he was putting her through. She'd be more comfortable back at the ranch with his parents and her pa. He also knew he was doing right by keeping her by him.
He gestured for his brothers to come forward. Clay and Nolan flanked him on the other side. He quickly relayed the information, and then between them, they cut out a plan of attack. They'd split into groups and circle the encampment.
Drew, who had quite a bit of practice with dynamite, would wire up the stable. When Dam let the horses loose, pandemonium would break out at the same moment the stable blew.
Xander, James, and Graham would steal some gray coats off the backs of three men and run in to find Wabash while the others would have their rifles trained on the entire group from all sides.
"And what about me?” Kathleen's voice was low but clear.
Graham couldn't help but nuzzle her ear. “You'll be with Clay and Nolan. No one will get past them."
She shifted on the saddle to meet his gaze. “You said I'd be with you!"
"You can't possibly go in after Wabash."
"I can go in disguise too."
Damn, she was pretty when she was arguing with him, but now wasn't the time. He had a small window of time to make this thing happen, or Wabash would slip out from under his nose again. Graham couldn't take a deep breath until the man was six feet under.
He smoothed a hand down her side, fighting the rising need to whip up her skirt and settle her over his aching cock. “Sweetheart, you'll be safe. Clay and Nolan will be right there with you up on the ridge where no one can touch you. I'll run in, take out Wabash, then be back by your side in half an hour."
"You're going to just go in and kill some men, blow up the stable, and the ants aren't going to swarm out of the anthill?"
"She has a point—"
Graham glared at Clay until his words died. Clay did smile, though, the cocky bastard. Returning his attention to Kathleen, Graham sought to soothe her fears. “That's why the others will be set on the perimeter of camp. To keep the ‘ants’ from escaping. Once you said you trusted me, Kathleen. I hope that's still the case."
Her eyes deepened to dark blue with anger but also with something he recognized well—lust. She bit down on her lower lip, drawing his gaze to it. His cock stirred, begging to get at those lush lips.
Clamping down on his urges, he drew her against his chest. “I promise you this will work out. I've been on a few missions like this during the war."
A shivery sigh left her. “I don't really have a choice but to trust you, do I?"
He gave her another squeeze and then passed her over into Clay's saddle. “Go now. Take care of her, brothers. I'm relyin’ on you."
As he watched the two horses make their way toward the cliff, he gathered his family members and spelled out their roles. Drew and Dam would carry in the fuse and enough dynamite to wire the stable, while his cousins waited with him, James, and Xander for a sign that the stable was about to go sky high. First, the horses would be set free so none came to any harm.
Graham's heart thudded hard, but his mind calmed just as it always did before a battle. Suddenly, he was back in his shell, his mask in place. His passion and happiness had ridden away with Kathleen. Soon he'd be reunited with those emotions. But he had to take out Wabash. The evil motherfucker had plagued him long enough. It was time to settle up.
He waited, jaw clenched and fingers in tight fists around his reins. When the first horse broke free of the stable and galloped in a looping arc through the middle of the camp, he put the spurs to Old Gray and shot into battle.
Xander and James kept pace easily. The wind rushed at them. The sun baked through Graham's hat and scorched the top of his head. He squinted against the glare and the dust. By the time they reached the camp, all the horses were loose. With a concussion that shoved him back in the saddle, the stable blew.
His ears rang and his chest hurt from the wallop, but he kept on. The battle-trained horses held their ground. When they reached the perimeter, he jumped off his horse and delivered a smack to Old Gray's rump, sending him away.
In a crouch, he made his way into the heart of the camp. Xander was right—the men wore gray coats. Some still had the military-issue boots. After all these years, how did they keep them on their feet, even tied up with string to keep the soles from flapping? Hell, his own boots had been replaced twice since the war.
A hollow ache grew in his stomach as he slipped into their ranks. He'd always be one of them, but he was going to take down one who wasn't.
He shot Xander a sharp look as they approached a group of four men. They needed only three coats, and so the fourth would need to be knocked unconscious too. Bad luck for him.
As one, Xander, James, and Graham rushed forward. Graham struck one man in a precise point on the side of his neck, putting him down instantly. Raising his pistol, he thumped a second in the head. The man collapsed in a heap of gray.
Shouts reverberated from all around them. Fire roared and flames shot into the sky. The horses stampeded, running in circles, narrowly missing men as they tried to get away from the fire they feared.
Two more bodies fell beside them as Xander and James took the men down. Again, using a pressure point on one man's neck, Graham rendered him unconscious. In another minute, all four men were unconscious. Graham hurriedly stripped a gray coat off the bigger of the two men.
"Fuck, this coat is tight.” James flexed his shoulders, and a seam popped.
Xander folded in silent laughter. He jammed his arms into his own coat just as hell broke loose “Let's move.” Graham went right for the middle of the group. The knot of men in the center was surely where he'd find Wabash.
Men around them gestured wildly and hollered back and forth.
"What the hell caused the explosion?"
"Horses are safe."
"Quick, get them rounded up."
"We might be under siege!"
Graham didn't like that last statement. No, he did not. He exchanged a solemn look with Xander and rushed into the midst of the chaos. No one gave him a second glance—his disguise worked, and his identity wasn't questioned. Staring at each face, searching for the telltale green eyes—eyes like watery grapes. He'd know the look of Wabash anywhere.
His heart thumped wildly. Sweat trickled down his spine and poured from his hairline, only to be soaked up by his hatband. Part of his mind was back with Kathleen while he zeroed in on his target.
"There?” Xander was at his ear. The word stabbed Graham like a bayonet.
He jerked as his gaze settled on the loose coat and the wiry form of the man who had vowed to kill him after he was released from prison. For the hundredth time, Graham wondered how he'd managed to survive prison. The conditions were deplorable, but being a traitor would have earned Wabash a death sentence, whether he'd fought for the Blue or Gray. No one who'd fought in that war tolerated a turncoat.
Graham found himself striding forward—realized his hand was a vise around Wabash's upper arm. Xander and James surrounded him, hemming him in.
Wabash had lost weight and was now missing a few fingers on his right hand. He still reached for the gun on his left hip, but not before Graham dealt him a blow to the wrist that stopped him dead.
His hand hung limply at his side. He opened his mouth to draw attention to them, but Graham pressed his pistol into the enemy's stomach. “You can come with us quietly and opt for a swift death, or I can shoot you in the guts now. The bullet will lodge in your tissues and fester. You'll get gangrene. Your insides will be on fire. And then you will scream for death to come for you."
Wabash's eyes narrowed. “Hollis, it was only a matter of time before we met again.” His voice was raspier with an edge of cruelty that made those around him skitter away. Prison and the hard years after the war had worn on this man, while Graham had had his family's love and support and the prosperity the Hollis ranch offered. Now his soul had been healed with the love of a good woman.
"It's time for you to die. I should have done it years ago rather than turn you in. You deserved the death of a traitor. Any other soldier would have beaten you senseless before blowing your face off.” Graham fought to keep his voice even—not from fear but from fury. He'd made a lot of mistakes in his life, but he was through making them. He'd killed the Jenkins men and damned the consequences, and it had been the right decision. He'd taken Kathleen though his raw and bleeding heart had screamed for him not to. It had been the best choice of his life.
Now he was going to kill this motherfucker to keep Kathleen safe.
"Which is it, Wabash? Swift or painful?"
Wabash's eyes seemed to float in the centers of the whites. His breath was stale when he spoke. “Swift. But take me away from my men.” He gestured to the chaos around them. Clay was setting off smaller, intermittent explosions, and his cousins were shooting over the camp to give Graham time to enact his plan.
"Not
your men
, you filthy slime,” Graham growled, discreetly bashing him across the cheekbone with his pistol. Blood bloomed from a gash on Wabash's face.
"Walk.” Graham gripped his arm and propelled him by way of a gun in the back, low to remind Wabash where he could shoot him.
James led the way through the crowd, and because of the chaos, no one noticed the departure of their leader or the men leading him to his fate.
Opening a tent flap, James ushered them inside. The canvas swished into place over the door, cutting off the sharp scents of burning wood.
"This might seem easy to take me out, Hollis. Don't be so sure of yourself. I've been planning your death for a long time. I know where your family is, and I'm going to pick them off one at a time. And then I'll find that little lady of yours and kill her very slowly.” Wabash's words sank deep into Graham. That all-consuming terror rose up in him and threatened to steal his control. The gun wavered in his hand.
"Graham.” Xander's rough tone penetrated the haze of fear that had always rendered Graham frozen in the past and most likely always would.
I've overcome everything else. Time to shoot that down too.
He pulled the trigger. The bullet gave a loud
thwack
as it burrowed through Wabash's tissues, low into his bowels.
His watery green eyes were round with shock and pain. “You said...swift."
"You voided that deal when you threatened my wife again.” Graham released the man, and he collapsed to the earth. He twitched onto his side, releasing a hollow moan of pain like a wounded animal.
"C'mon, boys,” Graham said, putting a hand on the tent flap. James passed through, followed by Xander. Wabash made a subtle movement—reaching for a weapon—and Xander shared a knowing glance with Graham.
"Wabash!"
The green eyes ticked upward to Graham's. A glare passed between them. Then Graham raised his arm and shot him through the head, putting him out of his misery.
Walking away from the camp, he shed his coat and tossed the gray cloth into the flames engulfing the stable.
"The war is over,” he said. And hurried on to retrieve Old Gray, his woman, and his life.
Kathleen twisted her fingers together, fighting her jitters. Finally, she was to be presented to the family as Graham's bride. They waited on the lawn for her to make her entrance.
She spun toward the mirror again and met her husband's gaze in the reflection.
"They already love you, Kathleen."
She let her gaze roam all over him, from the bulk of his shoulders to the way his pants hung low on his hips. He wore a string tie at his throat, and his hair had been neatly combed. One thick lock tumbled into his blazing eyes.
After he'd retrieved her from the ridge, she'd given him the sharp edge of her tongue, letting him know she was less than ecstatic about being made to wait for him. The fear had consumed her, especially when she saw a couple of his cousins shoot the men attacking them and drag them into the burning stable.
She'd felt wild, out of control. Now she recognized that same clawing sensation. Though this was a much different circumstance.
His family was huge. Could she really be made to face them all, and at a party in her and Graham's honor?
Graham brought his big hands down upon her shoulders. He rested his chin on her head, and together they looked into the mirror.
"You're gorgeous. This color suits you.” He fingered the satin ribbons at her waist. The country girl had been stripped away.
Now she was nervous as hell that the Hollises would find some fault with her. “What if—” She dropped her gaze and fiddled with a bow on her skirt pocket, where a wedding handkerchief had been folded. Annabelle had stitched it for her as a gift.
Graham spun her to face him. She met with his hard body and the overwhelming scent of male—musk, leather, and hay. He used a rough thumb beneath her jaw to lift her face to his.
"Look at me, Kathleen. What has you more nervous than a bride on her wedding day?” The teasing in his eyes made her knees weak and her pulse quicken.
"What if...they think there's another reason why we didn't marry in the open?"
Something flickered behind his gaze, dark and turned inward. He blew out a sigh. Leading her to the bed they'd been sharing, he sat and pulled her across his knees. Her violet skirts rippled over them. She refused to meet his gaze but stared at the tiny pleats her mother-in-law had worked into the fabric. They'd only stay here on the ranch a few more nights, and then they'd take her father back to the Allen farm, which Graham would take over.
"Kathleen, remember when I said you sure bring the apologies out of me? I have another apology to make."
She waited, quivering, enthralled by her body's reaction to his nearness. Her pussy was growing wet at the thought of what pleasure could be had in this position. But she also was captivated by the honest love in his eyes.
"Nibby, I never should have hidden our love from the eyes of the world. It was my dark past that drove me to do it, but it was wrong. You can't be kept in the dark. From now on, we live in the sunlight and make love by the moon's glow. But you'll always be with me, claimed as my wife."