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Brand’s fists curled so tight the knuckles cracked. He saw red spots that did not come from the fire, but from the anger rolling inside him. How dare Cyrus violate an innocent friendship with his crude insinuations? But Brand would not let him know he’d touched a raw nerve. Ignoring both the nudge and the comment, he yawned again.
Cyrus bolted from his post and squatted before him, almost nose to nose. “Little brother, you can stop playing the sweet innocent boy with us. We’ve been watching you. What’s more, we know you and that boss man were friendly.” His spit spattered on Brand’s face. Brand wiped at it with his sleeve.
“I only broke some horses for the man.”
“We saw how you hung about. How the man visited you in the barn.” Cyrus leaned back with a malicious sneer on his face.
Brand noted that the five men around the campfire all sat up and watched. His nerves twanged with tension.
Cyrus rose and loomed above him. “We know you got it figured out where the man keeps his money.”
Brand had known what to expect, but it still turned his blood bitter that they figured he was the same as them. “Know nothing about it.”
Cyrus’s mean laugh carried no mirth. “Ya, I guess you want us to think so. Selfish, you are. Figger to keep it all to yerself.” His eyes bored into Brand’s. “We aim to make sure you don’t.”
Brand didn’t bother sparing a glance at Pa, knowing he would share Cyrus’s opinion.
Brand slowly rose to his feet, leaning forward, forcing Cyrus to take a step backward, which earned him one of his brother’s black looks. “I know nothing. Now if you give me my stuff, I’d like to go to sleep.”
He and Cyrus continued their staring match until the others began to shuffle nervously.
“Stu, get his bedroll,” Pa said. “Brand, Cyrus, we’ll finish this conversation in the morning.”
Cyrus grunted. “You can count on it.” When the whiskered man Pa called Stu tossed Brand his bedroll, he stretched out, hopefully giving the opinion that all he cared about was his slumber.
Dawg curled up against him. Brand closed his eyes and feigned sleep. He lay with every nerve tensed, ready for anything, knowing the battle of wits was not over.
He eventually drifted off, though he twitched awake at every little sound, and with half a dozen men snoring and Dawg’s hearty snorts, there were lots of noises to waken him. At one point he sat up and looked around, hoping for a chance to escape, but a man sat near the smoldering coals, a rifle resting across his knees. He touched the brim of his hat in mocking acknowledgment of Brand’s stare.
He had expected no less. Pa and Cyrus had their sights on picking off the Eden Valley Ranch.
Could he stop them?
Sleep never came, and hours later he watched dawn break reluctantly, clouds hanging low.
“Could get another storm,” he mused aloud when the men stirred. Had the Duggan gang been out in the open when the last one pelted down? He kind of liked the idea of them huddled under inadequate slickers, trying to keep dry.
“A little rain never hurt no one,” Cyrus mumbled, his usual cheerful self. “’Course, I know you prefer a nice warm house, with a gentle woman to serve ya meals.” His laugh brought twisting tightness to Brand’s chest. “Now your ma is dead, guess you’ll have to find someone else to do it for ya.”
Pa slapped Cyrus’s shoulder. “Don’t be speaking of Brand’s ma like that. She was a good woman. Better’n I deserved, for sure.”
“She loved you, Pa,” Brand said gently, not bothering to add that it had about killed her to see what he’d become.
Cyrus snorted. “She sure found a funny way of showing how much she cared. How often did we have to track down the pair of ’em?” he asked their pa. Then he fixed Brand with an evil look. “And then you got so’s you wouldn’t tell us about yer friends.”
Brand had learned that lesson well. Once he discovered the interest from Pa and Cyrus was only to get information so they could rob his friends’ houses, he’d stopped telling them anything.
“Come on, boys, let’s have breakfast.” Pa nodded for the two men who hunkered over the fire to pass around the food.
