After the Ashes(9)

He rolled away from her and got off the bed quickly, keeping his back to her. “It’s not going to work this time. There’s nothing you can do.”

He refastened his pants. His heart knocked against his chest while the fire in his groin battled his good intentions. Knowing he was a bastard didn’t stop his body from howling with unfulfilled lust. He increased the distance between them, retreating to the far comer of the room.

As much as he wanted to tear Sullivan apart for mistreating his sister, Braddock knew he himself wasn’t any better. Maybe he was worse. While Sullivan used Lorelei to save his own hide, Braddock was only toying with her, trying to find out how far human beings would go for each other. He hated how far he’d sunk. So low he didn’t even recognize himself anymore.

He hung his head, but a familiar tingling on the back of his neck brought him out of his self-recrimination. The sensation was one of danger. He slowly turned.

“Keep your hands away from your body.”

Braddock raised his hands where she could see them.

She sat on the bed, her legs curled underneath her, pointing his pistol at him. The sure way she cocked the hammer warned him that she knew how to fire a gun.

“You want to be a murderer too, Lorelei? You want to hang next to your brother?”

“We’re going to talk about this until you see reason. Sit in that chair,” she ordered.

“You mean until he gets away. He won’t get away, Lori.”

More tears welled at his words. She swallowed hard to keep from letting them flow. “Don’t call me that. Sit in that chair and be quiet.”

Braddock sighed. He’d survived four years fighting a bloody war and six years chasing down the devils bred by it—all without a scratch. This little slip of a girl didn’t have what it took to bring him down. He lowered his hands.

“Uncock the gun before you hurt yourself.”

“I know how to shoot.” Only the heightened pitch of her voice betrayed her panic. He doubted she had ever pointed weapon at another human being.

“I imagine you do, but you won’t.” He eased toward her.

During the war, a rebel could jump out of the bushes and aim a rifle straight at his heart, but somehow the shot would go wild and some young recruit would take the slug, lose a leg. Once a ball whizzed by Braddock’s ear and hit the regiment’s drummer boy. After they buried him, Braddock learned he was only thirteen.

He took another step toward Lorelei. He’d suspected his fate before the war, of course. Back then he had thought he was just lucky. Now he knew it wasn’t luck but a curse. Watching everyone around you die was a living hell.

He continued his advance, his muscles bunched, ready to lunge for her if she tried something stupid. He didn’t want her to get hurt and bleed all over her pretty pink dress.

“Stay back.” She brought her other hand to the gun. She focused all her energy on keeping a bead on him. All she had to do was contract one small muscle in her finger, and someone was going to die. Unfortunately for her, Braddock knew it wouldn’t be him. He stopped when the bed met his thighs.

She shoved the gun out in front of her. The barrel came within an inch of touching the center of his chest. He wrapped his fingers around steel warmed by her sweating palms. When he gently pulled the pistol from her, she didn’t give the slightest resistance. In fact, she was careful to keep her finger away from the trigger. Poor Lorelei, she really did have a good heart. A fatal affliction out West.

He uncocked the pistol and slipped it back in its holster, then buckled the belt around his waist.

“Don’t do that again. You point a gun at a man and he doesn’t ask questions. It’s a sure way to get killed.”

She stared down at her empty hands.

He buttoned his shirt and tucked it in his pants. He retrieved his saddlebag and boots, then sat in the straight-backed chair to finish dressing. Lorelei remained eerily silent. After he pulled his pant legs over his boots and tied the rawhide thongs of his gun belt around his thighs, he could no longer avoid her.

“I’ll take you back to the ranch.”

“Please don’t hurt Corey.”

He ran his hand over the back of his neck. He had asked the barber to make sure not to trim his hair any shorter than the top of his collar. Last time he’d had his hair cut, the back of his neck burned. It felt like the man did a good job. He glanced at Lorelei. Damn.

“All right,” he said on a long sigh.

“All right, what?”

She hadn’t budged from the bed, and it didn’t look like she intended to unless he said what she wanted to hear.

“I’ll try to keep that brother of yours in one piece while I find Mulcahy. If he helps me, maybe I can do something for him.”