“And what about at night, kid? How does he act when you’re both in the shadows?”
Nick watched the outline of the riders on guard, not wanting Wes to see her tears. “Sometimes,” she whispered, “he holds me tight, like he never wants to let go. And when he kisses me, I can feel the heat all through my body.”
“He’s got it worse than I thought,” Wes admitted with a laugh. “I know my brother. He’ll fight his feelings with logic and rules, but he’ll lose this time.”
“But I’m not the kind of woman he needs. I’m not pretty with hair piled on my head and a dress that floats around me. I don’t even own a dress. Compared to Bergette, I must look like a toad.”
“Never. He sees what I see,” Wes assured her. “Dressed any way, even bald, you’re one hell of a woman. A man would be proud to have you at his side in war, or peace.”
“Well, I’m here with you tonight.” Nick lowered her voice. “And I just spotted our man.”
Wes slowly turned his head, looking at the three men on horseback that he could see. Their faces were in darkness and they weren’t close enough to recognize, but after a few minutes, he felt it more than saw it. One was watching him.
“What next?” he asked.
“Simple.” Nick turned back toward the camp. “You go to sleep and wait.”
“I can’t go to sleep. What do you think I am, crazy?”
“No.” She laughed. “You’re not crazy. You’re bait.”
“Oh.” Wes shrugged. “That’s comforting.”
TWENTY
WES UNSTRAPPED HIS gun belt as they walked toward camp. “You’ve been a marvel at guessing what will happen tonight, kid, but I’ve got something to add.”
Nichole waited as he strutted with pride at having thought of something she hadn’t.
“We’ve no use for our guns. These men know as well as I do that one shot could send the herd into stampede. They want the beef, but not bad enough to chase them two hundred miles to claim them.”
“So every man must be killed silently?” Nick followed his thoughts. “Not an easy job.”
Wes nodded. “And another thing, once the snakes show themselves, we don’t kill them.”
“We don’t?”
“No, we take them alive. Otherwise, we might kill two or three but the gang waiting out there somewhere would get away. Our only hope of catching the whole kit and caboodle of raiders is to take the ones in our midst alive and hope they’ll talk once they’re behind bars. These men may be the very gang that’s been pestering travelers around Fort Worth for months.”
Nick started to unbuckle her gun belt, hesitated, then stopped. “I won’t shoot, but I’d feel undressed without my Colt. Besides, if a stampede happens, and I’m caught in the middle, I plan to take a few of them ugly longhorns down before they trample me.”
She slipped her knife from her boot, showing Wes she was armed with more than the gun. “I have little faith in the deputy in town getting anyone to talk.”
Wes tossed her a bedroll from a shoulder-high pile made when they unloaded the supply wagon. “Well, if you won’t undress, kid, we might as well go to bed.”
They moved over by the trees where several men, finished with a shift, were bedding down. Without a word, she spread her blanket between Wes and the trees. He watched her as best he could in the darkness. She seemed to be settling down, but he noticed a tree branch very close to her feet. Within minutes, her bedroll still looked as though she were sleeping soundly. But Wes knew she wasn’t beneath the hat and blankets. He hadn’t seen her move in the shadows, but the branch had disappeared. Nick was in the wooded area behind him. He didn’t need to see her. He knew she was there.
Leaning back, Wes tried to relax, knowing that Nick was on guard. She was good, he thought, maybe the best he’d ever seen. He admired her talent, but didn’t want to think about all that she’d gone through to polish her skills.
The moon passed behind the clouds as midnight approached. The low sounds of the cattle rumbled in the air as the men traded shifts once more. One by one the guards came in, walked among the bedrolls until they found their replacement, and shook him awake. The cook checked the coffeepot from time to time. As the night aged, so did the coffee, filling the air with a rich aroma.
When all the men had settled back to sleep, Nick moved to the tree closest to Wes. She guessed he was still awake, but he was doing a good job of staying still. From this point on, he wouldn’t be out of her sight.
She eased down the trunk of an old cottonwood, blending into the gaps where bark became root. Without a sound, her outline became a part of the roots spreading out on the ground. Wes would be safe with her on guard.
Half an hour passed. Nick studied the camp. All were asleep. A lone man moved among the horses, then slowly ventured toward the bedrolls. Something about his movements made her come alert. As he neared Wes, she slipped her knife from her boot.
“Boss,” the lone cowhand whispered as he knelt beside Wes. “Boss, I need you to take a look at my mount. I’m afraid he may have gone lame.”
One sleeping cowhand rolled away from the conversation. No one else stirred.
Wes rose slowly and grumbled.
Nick was within jumping distance of touching the man. But she had to wait for him to make the first move. He could be just what he pretended, a rider with a lame mount.
The cowhand led the way toward the horses tied on the other side of a dying campfire. “Mine’s tied near the other end,” he said as he seemed to hurry Wes toward his horse.
“Couldn’t this wait till morning?” Wes complained.
“I figured we’d be too busy come daylight.” The cowhand pointed toward his horse. “This is him.”
Wes patted the animal on the rump so he wouldn’t startle the horse as he knelt. Nick watched as Wes ran his hand down the hind leg of the paint.
As Wes tightened his grip and lifted the horses hoof, Nick saw a blade slip from the center back of the cowhand’s belt and rise high in the air.
In a heartbeat, she closed the distance. Before he had time to lower his knife toward Wes, hers pressed across his throat hard enough to draw a blood line.
“Move,” she whispered, “and air no longer reaches your lungs.”
Turning, Wes stood slowly. With the light of the distant fire, he could see the man’s eyes were wild with anger and fear. His knife was still held high, flickering in the light like a fractured moonbeam. Another moment and he would have sunk the weapon into Wes.
Wes took the knife from the man’s grip, then pulled a leather strap from his back pocket and bound the outlaw’s hands. He used the man’s own bandanna as a gag.
Silently, Nick and Wes worked together until the man was safely deposited in the trees.
As they moved away from him, Wes grabbed her by the shoulder and kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks, kid, for saving my life. I’d about convinced myself that you were wrong about the raid. I was half-asleep when I looked at that horse.”
Nick rubbed her cheek with the back of her hand. “You’re not supposed to kiss a Shadow. Show a little respect.”
Wes laughed. “Respect isn’t enough of a word for you, lady. I owe you my life.”
“I’m sure you’ll pay me back in time. Right now, we may have two more men to catch. If the others think you’re out of the way, they may already be working. We’ve got to find them before one has time to call in backup.”
“But couldn’t he have acted alone? Maybe he was going to kill me, then signal the others to move in,” Wes whispered as they reached the edge of the trees. “There’s no reason to believe there were three.”
Without answering, she lowered her body into the shadow of the supplies piled in one place.
Wes stayed close beside her, frustrated that she wouldn’t talk to him.