Название: Tucker's Claim
Автор: Sarah McCarty
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Эротика, Секс
isbn: 9781408917749
isbn:
Because she was still afraid her new way of life would be taken away, as it had been before. As if Caine would ever let anyone near enough to disturb a hair on her head. As if Tucker would. He’d gotten real fond of Desi. She had grit, sweetness and a sense of humor. What had happened to her wasn’t right and should have broken her, but she’d come out of it head high and courage waving. A man had to respect that. “Then I guess I’ll thank her.”
“Caine would appreciate that.” There was a slight shift in Tracker’s stance, a subtle honing of his attention. Tucker knew why. It wasn’t like him to stay away from Hell’s Eight so long.
“You going to be heading home soon?” Tracker asked.
“I’m waiting on a lead to pan out, but after that, yes.” He missed the simple life and acceptance he got at Hell’s Eight. And staying here was making him weak, as evidenced by tonight’s stupidity. Tracker was right. Lusting after Sally Mae was a fool’s game.
Tracker looked toward the house. “Folk get wind of what you’re doing with the widow and there won’t be much left of you to drag home.”
“I’m not doing anything. It was a onetime thing. It’s over now.”
“That wave she tossed you didn’t look like goodbye.”
No, it hadn’t, and that pricked his conscience.
Mine. Had he really said that to her?
“Sally Mae has some odd views on things.”
It’s an opening. What in hell had she meant by that?
“From all I’ve heard, she’s a levelheaded woman.”
Tucker tossed Tracker a grin. The last thing he needed was Tracker chewing on his love life. “How levelheaded can she be if she took up with me?”
The expected, joking agreement didn’t come, but a look that asked who did he think he was fooling did. “The woman has a lot to lose.”
No shit. “I won’t let her get hurt.”
“Good to know. Any ideas how you’re going to prevent it?”
“Mind your own business, Tracker.”
Ever since they were kids in their small town, Tracker had been treating him to that skeptical lift of the brow. It was as irritating now as it had been the first time he’d seen it twenty-four years ago when Tucker had boasted that he could make a stone skip five times across the pond.
“I could argue that you are my business.”
Like hell. “And you’d lose.”
Cocking his head, Tracker conceded the point. Tucker changed the subject.
“What else brings you here?”
“I’m supposed to meet up with Shadow.”
Tracker and Shadow had volunteered to scout the farthestout areas for word of Desi’s sister. No one had protested. The two men, twins, were perfectly suited to the job. They could move through the most dangerous territories undetected. Part of it was due to their appearance, and the other had to do with their uncanny, deadly ability to work in tandem. Almost as if they knew each other’s thoughts without speaking. “Any word on Ari?”
Tucker knew the answer before Tracker spoke. Ari and Desi had been stolen by Comancheros eighteen months ago. As unlikely as it was that Ari was still alive, Caine had promised Desi Hell’s Eight would find her. And what one promised, they all honored. No matter if that promise had them chasing a will-o’-the-wisp of hope that Ari was still alive. There were some things a man didn’t mind doing. And there wasn’t a man at Hell’s Eight who minded looking for Ari. Not only because of how they felt about Desi, but because not one of them could stomach the thought that Ari might be alive and trapped in the hell that the Comancheros delivered women into. Maybe it was because Ari was Desi’s twin and it was like picturing Desi trapped. Or maybe they just needed to make a difference. The past year or two had been frustrating. Raising horses didn’t provide the same day-to-day excitement of bounty hunting. And the reward wasn’t as clear-cut.
“No. I keep hearing talk of how, about a year ago, someone dumped a white girl eight hours south of here.” He shrugged. “But that could be Ari or someone else. Or complete fiction.”
More likely fiction. Made up by someone wanting the reward for information that Hell’s Eight had put out. Or there could be a more nefarious reason. “You think maybe it’s a lure to a trap?”
Tracker shrugged. “It’s unlikely a white woman in those parts wouldn’t generate comment.”
“Well, if it is an attempt to lure Desi out into the open, it’s a fool waste of time.” Tucker pulled his hat down against the first bright rays of the rising sun. “Desi isn’t moving a foot off Hell’s Eight until Caine feels it’s safe.”
And as careful as Caine was of Desi, that wasn’t likely to be anytime soon.
“That’s a fact.” Tracker stared off into the distance, that peculiar stillness surrounding him.
“What?”
Tracker pulled his hat down with the small jerk that said he’d come to a decision. “I’ve just got a feeling, and until I check it out, I’m not bringing any news back to Desi. Good or bad.”
The hairs on the back of Tucker’s neck rose. “You think Ari might be alive?”
“I’ve just got a feeling is all.”
Eerie as it was, Tucker had come to have faith in Tracker’s feelings. “When are we going to check it out?”
“We?”
“Figured I’d come with you. It’s rough country south of here.”
Tracker cast another look at the house. His eyes narrowed. “You sure you want to be leaving now?”
It didn’t take much to figure out where his thoughts had traveled. Tucker let his gaze follow Tracker’s. The house stood as a small dark fortress bathed in the light of sunrise. Dark surrounded by bright. Despair surrounded by hope. And in the midst of it all, Sally slept, protected by her faith and that will of iron that believed miracles were created by man, not God. Son of a bitch. Tracker was crazy if he thought Tucker didn’t understand the reality. The woman did not need a mixedblood, beat-up bounty hunter messing with her life. It just wasn’t as easy to walk away as it should be.
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