Page 12 of Her Outlaw Daddy


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“Cold, darlin’?” Cole asked over her shoulder. Justice was riding beside them now, and he looked sharply at Cole, a brief look that was nearly lost on Aida before he turned front again and went back to stoically ignoring her.

“I’m fine,” Aida lied, another shiver betraying her.

He grunted, clearly not appeased by her answer, and growled, “You scoot up closer to me if need be. We ride on until we get to our next stop, but it shouldn’t be long.”

She obediently scooted closer to him, his flank pushed up against her back, his warmth seeping through her thin garments. She could feel his hardened muscles against her, and her eyes focused on his large, strong hands holding the reins. She shivered, but this time not from cold. She was helpless to control the primal attraction to his authority and power.

Cole spoke over his shoulder. “An hour’s hard ride’ll bring us to Saddle Creek, two before we get to Lawson’s just after dark.”

He dug in his spurs, and his horse picked up speed, but seconds later, he pulled the reins taut in his hand with a loud, “Whoa!” He held a hand up to the rest of his crew and they all careened to a halt. They were surrounded, a semi-circle of dark riders closing in on them. Aida inhaled deeply, moving closer to Cole as the men neared. She couldn’t see their faces, but wondered if they’d been caught by the local sheriff, and if justice would be meted out. She shifted on her seat with mixed feelings. Though she longed to be free of Cole’s gang, she feared the inevitable: being back under the same roof as her father. It was imperative she get to the next town. She needed to escape.

The largest, darkest of the group of men on horses sauntered up to Cole, lifting his Stetson, his hand resting lazily on his gun. “Is that who I think it is? It ain’t Cole Clemens and his crew now, is it?” His voice was low and something about his demeanor made the little hairs stand on end along Aida’s arms, fear pricking along her neck. He seemed more like a man who’d get along with Justice rather than Cole or Junior. His beady little eyes zoned in on Aida, before dipping to her creamy chest and ample thighs. He nearly licked his lips.

Cole stiffened in his seat, but when he spoke, his voice was surprisingly familiar, even congenial. “If it ain’t Monty and the gang,” he said with a reluctant smile.

Monty spat on the ground, the thick brown stream making Aida’s stomach churn. The dark rider grinned at Cole, his teeth still brown from the chewing tobacco. His face was thin and narrow, a deep scar running straight across his cheek nearly down to his chin. The thin slits of his eyes reminded Aida of a savage animal. She shivered. The other men sat upon their horses as if waiting for a cue from him.

Aida instinctively pulled even closer to Cole.

“Damn,” Monty said, while a wicked grin spread over his face. “Here I was thinkin’ we’d get a little fun in and shake up some travelers afore we turn in for the night. Maybe get lucky and land us a lady or two to share.” He spat again on the ground. Aida felt the bile rise in her throat, but stared at him bravely.

Cole chuckled mirthlessly. Aida watched as Cole and Monty talked to each other, neither at ease, but both familiar. Cole didn’t trust the dark man and it seemed the feeling was mutual.

“Ain’t much help, then,” Cole said with what seemed forced camaraderie. “Got me a hostage but you know I don’t share my women. I’m selfish like that. Too bad we just let one go. But you keep up to Lawson’s and Lawson’ll sort you fine.”

Justice glanced sharply at Cole, but Cole didn’t meet his eyes.

Monty lifted the reins and his horse tripped a bit closer to Cole. His voice dipped low, his eyes wicked slits. “Is that right?” he said in a low growl. “Rumor has it you kidnapped a girl back in Hollow Creek. Got a sheriff no bigger’n a half-grown coon dog sniffin’ every tree and bush. Seems someone’s pa’s got a heavy purse, and ain’t stoppin’ ‘til he gets his little girl back. Might this be your pretty little victim?” He reached a hand out to stroke Aida’s hair. She stiffened and held her breath.

“Lay off, Monty,” growled Junior, and Aida could’ve kissed him, but Cole held up a hand.

To Aida’s relief, Monty turned away from her, and his narrowed eyes fixed on the blond cowboy. Though his eyes were on Junior, he spoke to Cole. “You still let boys barely weaned off their ma’s titties in your crew?” He spat again on the ground, shaking his head. Justice snorted, Junior’s eyes flashed, but all men looked to Cole as Monty’s men chuckled darkly. Aida’s eyes flicked over them. Suddenly her captors seemed almost benign beside the men who sported soiled bandannas, chaps splattered liberally with mud, and narrowed, wicked eyes. Even their horses seemed thinner, angrier, and more savage.

“You know my crew well, Monty,” Cole said in a voice as low as a rattler sneaking through the underbrush. Aida knew that deep drawl. It was the voice he used when he was angriest. Whereas others would grow louder when angry, Cole grew softer. He was dangerous at any time of day, but lethal when his voice grew soft. “You know they’re like brothers.”

To Aida’s relief, fear tripped across Monty’s features and his eyes darted to Doc, then Justice. He swallowed and his eyes softened, as if he were suddenly repentant and ready to convince Cole to leave them be. Monty forced a laugh. “I do,” he said. “Oh, I do. Seems you’re down a man, though?”

Cole nodded. “Preach had an errand for me. Seems you’re down a man, too?”

Monty shrugged, eyes growing cold again. “One betrayed me. Put a bullet in ‘im last town over, tossed into the river.” The three men beside him each spat on the ground as if on cue. Aida felt her stomach churn. “You know I don’t cotton to traitors.”

“A point we agree on then,” Cole said, and to Aida’s surprise, his defensive stance seemed to dissolve into friendliness. “Can’t say that I blame you. You all stoppin’ to eat? We’re just takin’ a break for the night. You’re welcome to join us.”

They were not just stopping for a break. What had gotten into him?

“Sure thing,” Monty said, turning to his crew. “We break to eat. Ain’t every day we meet hospitality, boys.” His eyes focused on Aida. He licked his lips. “Maybe if we’re lucky, we’ll even get some dessert.”

Chapter Ten

When it is dark enough, you can see the stars. ? Ralph Waldo Emerson

Damn it all to hell. Cole barely contained his fury as he got down from his horse.

Meeting up with Monty was part of the whole fucking plan, but meeting up with him before they’d even gotten to Lawson’s wasnot.And why did Cole’s protective ire rise when Monty focused his filthy eyes on Aida? She was nothing to him. He’d seen Monty in action, though. He’d seen him tear the dress of a woman not a month prior, the wife of a man who owed him money. He’d ruthlessly murdered the man, taken his wife as his own, then given her over to each one of his men in turn to do with as they pleased. Men the likes of Monty disgusted Cole. Though he was no angel himself, he held fast to certain principles and rued the day Monty escaped hanging.

But his plan would be shot to hell if he couldn’t convince Monty they were on the same side. Fucking Monty and his lowlife crew.

He had to keep his eye on Monty, feign friendship and allegiance to the same wrong side of the law.

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