Sam's Creed. Sarah McCarty
looked down.
“If you let me go,” she said, in a voice that shook, “No one will chase you.”
“Now where would the fun be in that?”
“You don’t want me.”
She had to be shitting him. The woman was a curvy little keg of dynamite that had a man thinking about making her explode with his first look. “Darling, there isn’t a man alive that wouldn’t want you.”
He didn’t like the assessing look in her eyes as she cocked her head to the side and placed her hands on her hips. “You also?”
“Sure. I’m as red-blooded as the next man.”
“Good.” The too-big hat fell over her face. She pushed it back with an impatient hand. “Then I will hire you.”
“I’m a ranger. I’m not for hire.”
She didn’t bat an eye. “Then you can hire me.”
“For what?”
“You’re a ranger in Tejala territory who’s going to have bandidos on his trail in a very short time. You’re going to need a guide if you plan on surviving.”
He pushed his hat back with the back of his hand. “I suppose you’re offering your services?”
“Yes.”
“You got any references?”
She waved at the nearly unconscious bandit at their feet. “I have been evading men such as he for the last six months. That must mean something.”
What it meant was she’d been running scared longer than any woman should have to. “Well, I might be impressed if you could prove it was true.”
That chin came up. The hat came down. She rounded on the bandit. “You will tell him it is true.”
The man shook his head. Isabella kicked his calf, then his thigh. Sam figured the family jewels were next. The man grabbed her boot. “I’m not telling him shit.”
Kell lunged in and snapped at his arm. Isabella stomped on his fingers as he jerked it back. “Tell him!”
Sam chuckled as he pulled out a sulphur. They sure were a bloodthirsty pair.
The bandit lurched to the side, cradling his arm. Isabella drew her foot back. Kell stalked forward. It was probably time to step in.
“Hold up.”
Bella whipped around. “Make him speak.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “You don’t think you’ve tortured him enough?”
“He must tell.”
He put his hand on her shoulder, soothing the panic rippling through her in visible tremors. “Yeah, he must.”
But not the way she thought.
Grabbing the injured man by his shirt, Sam yanked him to his feet. “You’re going to carry a message to Tejala for me.”
“What makes you so sure?”
Stupidity ran deep in this bunch. “Because otherwise,” he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, “I’ll let those two have at you. Make a choice.”
The bandit grunted. “What is this message?”
“You tell Tejala that if he comes after Bella, he’s coming after Hell’s Eight.”
The man shook his head. “He will not care. He is crazy that way.”
“Funny,” Sam said. “So am I.”
Chapter 3
He was crazy. Isabella watched as Sam rested his rifle against the cave wall and propped three sticks shoved through several cleaned fish beside it. A dark stain spread downward and outward from the bandanna tied around his thigh. Blood from where he’d been shot, defending her. She did not know much about bullet wounds, but it looked like a lot of blood. Enough blood that they should have stopped back when she’d told him to instead of continuing on to this cave. Kell slid up beside Sam, sniffed his wound and then whined. The wag of his tail knocked one of the sticks. Sam caught it before it could tumble to the dirt floor. “Easy on dinner, mutt.”
Kell stepped back. Isabella wanted to move back, too, when Sam turned toward her. Except she couldn’t. The wall was to her back and her pride was in her face. After all her bold talk, it would be very humiliating to cower now that they were alone.
She motioned to the wound on Sam’s thigh. “You must take better care of yourself.”
Shadows hid his eyes, but she could tell from the angle of his head that he was looking at her. “Worried about losing your guide to San Antonio?”
“Sí. You are very important to me right now.”
He favored his leg as he brought the fish over. “Good for a man to know where he stands.”
From where she sat, it seemed he wouldn’t be standing much more. The firelight highlighted the paleness of his face and the lines carved deeper at the corners of his eyes. He was hurting and tired. Because of her. She motioned to the boulder across the fire and against the wall. “You will sit and let me tend to your wound.”
“I will?”
“Yes.” Standing, she brushed the dirt from her skirt. “Unless it is your wish for your wound to fester and for you to die.”
His gaze burned a path from her head to her toes. “I can’t say that I’m anxious to meet my maker just yet.”
The intensity of his gaze made her uncomfortable, but oddly enough, not scared.
She pointed to the boulder. “Sit.”
“Is that an order?”
It had been, but maybe ordering a man like Sam around was not such a good idea. She crossed to the saddlebags and rummaged around. “You should think of it as a reasonable request.”
He followed her with that miss-nothing gaze of his. The hairs on the back of her neck rose in response to the look—so strong that it felt like a touch. Her fingers closed over a silver flask.
“When you were thinking of this reasonable request, did you stop to think I’d have to remove my pants to accommodate it?”
She had, but thinking ahead did nothing to stop the blush from rising to her cheeks. She had never seen a man naked. It wasn’t done for a young woman of her station, but Sam did not need to know that. “I will do my best to preserve your modesty.”
While gaining as much of an eyeful as she could. She was very curious about the male body.
Sam didn’t answer immediately. His boot sole scuffed over the sandy cave floor. A glance wasn’t any more revealing as to his mood. The press of his lips could be anger as easily as it could be amusement. He was a very hard man to read.
“Well, I appreciate that.”
Uncorking the flask, she took a sniff. The odor of strong drink made her eyes burn.
Sam grunted as he sat down. “That you can pass on over.”
She tapped the cork back into the bottle. “You will drink it if I do.”
His holster scraped rock. “That’s sort of the point.”
He was always so on guard. “I will need it to clean your wound.”
“Like hell.”
Frowning over her shoulder at him, she pulled out a flat packet tied with rawhide. “There is no need for such language.”
“You ever had rotgut poured over an open bullet hole?”
“I am not so foolish as to throw myself in front of a bullet.”