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Authors: One Night's Desire
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ankles. He couldn’t see, but he could imagine. A few quick twists and he was effectively hobbled, completely unable to move freely about the campsite. She hadn’t made a single mistake so far — other than to get into his black book — so he doubted he’d be able to work the knots loose. He’d try, nonetheless, just as soon as the two let down their guard.
“I’ll keep an eye on these two,” said the Shoshone. “You go find their horses. Check to see if they have a second set of manacles for Boyd.”
Ev lifted his head, but all he saw was Wildcat walking away in the direction he’d taken when he’d left her with Boyd. He’d warned the gunman that she was dangerous.
I never should have left the two of them alone
. Ev had learned his lesson. Boyd might be deadly with a gun, but he was too green to be relied on to think for himself. That woman was more dangerous than a sidewinder. At least a rattler gave you warning when it was going to strike.
When both he and Boyd were thoroughly trussed, the Shoshone brave tested the knots and nodded. “Good job, Kiera. Let’s eat.”
At the mention of food, Quinn’s stomach rumbled. It’d been a long time since the biscuit and hard tack lunch he’d swallowed on the trail. But he knew better than to ask for food or any other consideration. He had no doubt that the Wildcat and her Shoshone friend both knew the risks of going easy on their captives. The night stretched ahead long and uncomfortable and cold. They weren’t yet in the high country, but this close to the mountains even summer nights were chilly. If he couldn’t get some circulation going in his feet, he might easily suffer frostbite. His toes were already so numb that he could scarcely feel them. The iron manacles chilled his hands. By morning, he wouldn’t be able to stand or hold a gun, even if he could get loose. Working at the ropes was his best chance for freedom, but that would have to wait for his captors to go to sleep. So despite the grumbles from his belly, he shut his eyes and tried to rest, saving his strength for when he’d need it most.
He couldn’t sleep. Night sounds that normally comforted seemed loud and unnatural. He opened his eye to study the night around him trying to discover what — besides being trussed like a chicken — distorted the dark. He couldn’t see Boyd but heard the gunman’s soft snores. Nor could Ev see the Shoshone, and that was worrisome. The brave could be standing right behind or he could be yards away.
The brush near the creek rustled and Wildcat emerged. She carried a clean pot, plates, and utensils. Stopping near the buffalo robe she’d spread as a bedroll, she stowed the gear in her saddle bags. She moved to the fire, put on more fuel then surveyed the camp. Her gaze met Ev’s. He made certain she saw retribution in his answering stare. She ignored him and returned to her buffalo robe where she settled with the appearance of intending to sleep soundly.
Hours later, Ev had no idea how many, she shifted her position for the tenth time. Why couldn’t she sleep? Why did he care? If she didn’t rest, it was all to his benefit. The trail was exhausting, and they were only in the foothills. He had no way of knowing where Wildcat planned to take them, but if she was tired, he’d have more opportunity to reverse their positions. He had no business feeling even a twinge of sympathy for the woman who left him bound and cold in the night. For all he knew she’d kill him in his sleep and leave him to feed the coyotes. His best defense was to stay awake.
CHAPTER FOUR
Ev woke the next morning, warm if not toasty, under a blanket and with his head pillowed on some sort of folded up cloth. Every part of him ached. He could thank whoever covered him for the ability to feel those pains. Despite the small comforts that appeared during the night, his nose seemed to have gone numb. He couldn’t smell anything. No coffee, no bacon, no wood fire, not even the horses or
“I’ll keep an eye on these two,” said the Shoshone. “You go find their horses. Check to see if they have a second set of manacles for Boyd.”
Ev lifted his head, but all he saw was Wildcat walking away in the direction he’d taken when he’d left her with Boyd. He’d warned the gunman that she was dangerous.
I never should have left the two of them alone
. Ev had learned his lesson. Boyd might be deadly with a gun, but he was too green to be relied on to think for himself. That woman was more dangerous than a sidewinder. At least a rattler gave you warning when it was going to strike.
When both he and Boyd were thoroughly trussed, the Shoshone brave tested the knots and nodded. “Good job, Kiera. Let’s eat.”
At the mention of food, Quinn’s stomach rumbled. It’d been a long time since the biscuit and hard tack lunch he’d swallowed on the trail. But he knew better than to ask for food or any other consideration. He had no doubt that the Wildcat and her Shoshone friend both knew the risks of going easy on their captives. The night stretched ahead long and uncomfortable and cold. They weren’t yet in the high country, but this close to the mountains even summer nights were chilly. If he couldn’t get some circulation going in his feet, he might easily suffer frostbite. His toes were already so numb that he could scarcely feel them. The iron manacles chilled his hands. By morning, he wouldn’t be able to stand or hold a gun, even if he could get loose. Working at the ropes was his best chance for freedom, but that would have to wait for his captors to go to sleep. So despite the grumbles from his belly, he shut his eyes and tried to rest, saving his strength for when he’d need it most.
He couldn’t sleep. Night sounds that normally comforted seemed loud and unnatural. He opened his eye to study the night around him trying to discover what — besides being trussed like a chicken — distorted the dark. He couldn’t see Boyd but heard the gunman’s soft snores. Nor could Ev see the Shoshone, and that was worrisome. The brave could be standing right behind or he could be yards away.
The brush near the creek rustled and Wildcat emerged. She carried a clean pot, plates, and utensils. Stopping near the buffalo robe she’d spread as a bedroll, she stowed the gear in her saddle bags. She moved to the fire, put on more fuel then surveyed the camp. Her gaze met Ev’s. He made certain she saw retribution in his answering stare. She ignored him and returned to her buffalo robe where she settled with the appearance of intending to sleep soundly.
Hours later, Ev had no idea how many, she shifted her position for the tenth time. Why couldn’t she sleep? Why did he care? If she didn’t rest, it was all to his benefit. The trail was exhausting, and they were only in the foothills. He had no way of knowing where Wildcat planned to take them, but if she was tired, he’d have more opportunity to reverse their positions. He had no business feeling even a twinge of sympathy for the woman who left him bound and cold in the night. For all he knew she’d kill him in his sleep and leave him to feed the coyotes. His best defense was to stay awake.
CHAPTER FOUR
Ev woke the next morning, warm if not toasty, under a blanket and with his head pillowed on some sort of folded up cloth. Every part of him ached. He could thank whoever covered him for the ability to feel those pains. Despite the small comforts that appeared during the night, his nose seemed to have gone numb. He couldn’t smell anything. No coffee, no bacon, no wood fire, not even the horses or
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