On the long ride, knowing he’d have Lorelei close by tonight, he’d thought of the widow and what she had told him about women, what they liked. Hell, the damage was done. He had taken Lorelei’s virginity. Not that it mattered much out here. Lorelei could have her pick of husbands, and with her beauty, they wouldn’t care what she’d done in her past.
Braddock dropped the hand he’d been absently rubbing over his chest. Finding Lorelei a husband sounded too much like a good idea. What better way to appease his flickering sense of honor than to find her a husband?
He stared up at the stars, feeling betrayed by his own good sense.
He strolled back to the camp, sure of only one thing. His best chance of finding Mulcahy relied upon keeping the Sullivans close. But this opportunity to finally get Mulcahy came with a price. He’d be forced to live again. Meeting Lorelei, giving a damn, both made him as vulnerable as every other bastard out there. He shouldn’t be surprised at the cost. Everything had one.
When he drew close enough to smell beans with a smoky hint of bacon cooking over an open flame, Braddock tried to squeeze back into his old shroud of indifference. It didn’t work. When it came to Lorelei Sullivan, he was anything but indifferent.
Yet if he wanted to do the right thing by her, at the very least he had better adjust to being frustrated. Of all the emotions battling for control, frustration was his safest option. He should keep his hands and thoughts off her and deliver her to the first marriage minded farmer he stumbled across. He ran his fingers through his hair and stomped the rest of the way back to the licking flames of the camp fire.
Lorelei knelt next to the fire, stirring a pot that hung on a tripod. When she saw him, she smiled. “Hungry?”
Against a rock, Corey silently spooned food into his mouth. His gaze spit heat when Braddock strode directly to Lorelei.
Braddock squatted beside her and winced.
“What’s wrong?”
He shifted, taking the weight off his wounded leg. “The graze from Langston’s bullet is starting to throb. Once I clean the wound it’ll be fine.”
“I’d forgotten in all the excitement. I’ll take a look at it for you.”
“Don’t bother. It’s nothing.”
Corey sneered at the exchange. Braddock half expected the kid to stick his tongue out.
Lorelei ladled stew onto a tin plate, either purposely ignoring or not noticing her brother’s imminent combustion. “I’ll take a look at it after you eat. It might need a stitch or two.”
“All right.”
Braddock couldn’t help but grin, forcing Corey to stare into the dented tin cup that served as his dinner plate. His satisfaction deepened when he noted he received the better utensils. Braddock settled beside Lorelei, glad that he wasn’t one to do the right thing.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Lorelei stared into the deep blue darkness that had swallowed Corey while Christopher eased his pants past his thighs. Her suggestion that Corey check the horses had earned her some time alone with Christopher. Her goal now accomplished, a bout of nerves threatened to swamp her purpose. She needed to be reassured that Christopher still intended to help clear Corey’s name. Though Corey would never be convinced.
She set her pan of warmed water on the ground, then knelt in front of Christopher. When she dabbed a wet cloth around the blood encrusted wound, he involuntarily tensed in a protesting jerk.
“Sorry.” Her glance to his face stopped at his hips. His shirt tented with the beginning of arousal. She quickly returned her gaze to his wound. “I guess it doesn’t hurt that bad.”
“Guess not.”
The laughter in his voice reassured her. His lighthearted tone belonged to the man who’d convinced her with his actions if not his words that he could never hurt her or her brother, one who differed greatly from the man who’d bested Langston and ridden them hard into the middle of nowhere.
She cleaned the wound efficiently, touching him no more than necessary. The graze didn’t even need a bandage, much less a stitch. Which was a good thing, because she didn’t care for the longing that touching him brought. Her need to be reassured that he was the man she thought he was went far beyond her desire to help her brother. She wanted to keep Christopher for herself, if only for a little while longer.
She stood without looking at him. “You can pull your pants up. I’m done.”
He did, then fell back into morose silence. Both he and Corey had been like two surly dogs since they returned from their discussion behind the rocks. Corey’s cutting glares let her know he was furious. The only words he’d spoken were a hissed promise to leave at the first opportunity.