After the Ashes(10)

She crawled off the bed, smiling for the first time. “Thank you, Mr. Braddock.”

He cringed at her gratitude. “But you have to do something for me.”

“Anything. I’ll do anything.” As if she’d suddenly realized the implication of her pledge, a blush spread up her neck and across her cheeks. She averted her gaze but didn’t take back her words.

He gritted his teeth. “Not that. Don’t ever again try to seduce me or any other man to save your brother.”

“I won’t. I promise.” Her enthusiastic nod dislodged a dark curl that fell across her pale shoulder and over the top of her breast.

He had to glance away to keep from staring. “That’s not all. You have to stay out of this. Don’t try to help your brother. I’ll do what I can for him, but this is his mess. You can’t fix it.”

“I can’t promise that.”

The firmness in her voice forced him to glance in her direction. He was thankful, she had straightened her clothes. “You want me on your side or don’t you?”

“I do, but—”

“But nothing. That’s the way it is.”

He gathered his gear. He wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight in this room, not with her sweet scent all over the place. As soon as he took Lorelei home, he’d pick up the trail of her rotten brother.

“If he comes to me, I can’t send him away,” she said.

“You don’t have to send him away. Just don’t defend him or talk to anyone for him.” Braddock moved toward the door, saddlebag over his shoulder, rifle in his hand. He paused to turn down the lantern.

“I’m not going to hand him over if someone comes to the door asking for him, if that’s what you mean.”

He stomped down the hotel’s narrow steps, not knowing what he’d meant. Or why he even cared. “Fine. Just don’t go looking for trouble.”

“You have my word, Mr. Braddock.”

He could hear her small, light steps behind his. This country would eat her alive. And how that had become his problem was something he didn’t want to consider.

***



A light burning inside the adobe signaled their approach to the ranch. Lorelei tugged on the old mule’s reins. Was Corey still there? Unfazed by her efforts to slow him, the mule kept his pace, lurching the buckboard forward in painful jerks. The tail of Braddock’s horse swished ahead like a beacon.

At least the dark saved her from having to look into Braddock’s face and remember the way he had touched her—or the way she had exposed herself to him. Her bold act had made her unexpectedly feverish. She relished the way it had made her feel as well as his reaction. She was thankful her mother’s reprimanding voice had seeped past the yearning of her body to properly shame her into tears. Still, his nearness relieved her even if it reached out through the space between them, keeping her in a constant state of agitation.

Without his guidance, she’d never have found her way back to the ranch in the dark. She hoped the dangerous combination of gratitude and desperation wasn’t all that urged her to trust him with her brother’s life.

Lorelei yanked on the reins with all her weight, but the mule continued to plod forward. Her brother wasn’t a killer. He’d never pointed a gun at another living thing. He didn’t even hunt. Unfortunately, some of what Braddock had told her about the robbery, especially the cheating at cards part, sounded all too much like her mischievous brother. His pranks were no longer boyish, but dangerous.

Braddock stilled his mount and waited for her to catch up.

“I can make it the rest of the way on my own,” she said.

“I’m sure you can. Take it nice and slow, Lorelei. I’ll be right behind you.”

The moment the buckboard rolled into the yard, Lorelei jumped down in a cloud of pink taffeta. She beat her rustling skirts into place, then listened for Corey. The call of crickets echoed across the empty landscape in rhythm to the beating of her heart, but there was no hint of her brother’s presence. Silently Braddock dismounted beside her. He had a pistol in his hand.

“You won’t need that.”

He laid a finger across his lips and leaned over until his mouth was next to her ear. “Just in case it’s not Corey.”

She nodded, but her confidence evaporated with his words. The reminder that other men were looking for her brother chilled her more effectively than the idea of Corey waiting behind the weathered door with a Springfield rifle. If a lesser of two evils existed, Braddock was it.

She crept onto the rickety wooden porch, willing it not to creak. Braddock shadowed her movements, his pistol cocked.