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“You know the routine,” Cole said to Doc. “Usin’ up the rest of the supplies we’ve got now’ll do us best until we can restock at Lawson’s.”
Doc nodded, squatting low and starting a fire to cook, as Monty and his men dismounted from their horses.
Cole bit out instructions to his men. “Justice, you water the horses and see to their food.” He turned to Aida, still astride the horse and spoke low enough that only Junior and Aida could hear him. “Normally, I’d have you do the womanly tasks, but today, that’ll be up to Junior.”
Cole crooked a finger at Junior. Junior’s brow furrowed, and he looked like he was about to protest, but before he said a word, Cole removed Junior’s gun from his belt and handed it to him. Junior’s eyes momentarily widened, then looked up at Cole apprehensively. Good. He knew he deserved to be punished for losing his weapon, but Cole would play his cards carefully with Monty watching. And given Monty’s insulting Junior just now, Cole did not want to heap coal on Junior’s already wounded pride.
“Lost my gun,” Junior muttered.
“Is that right?” Cole asked sternly, fixing Junior with a look that made him squirm.
“Yes, sir,” Junior said. “I’m sorry.”
Cole spoke low so that no one could hear him. “Tonight you’ll do cleanup, first watch, and last watch.” Each men took one shift, and the bookend order would be difficult, especially when they were down a man. Junior nodded as Cole continued, his voice harsh and corrective. “And when you’re on guard, you think about how it’d be if you came across Monty alone and you had no metal to save your hide. You think about what it’d be like if Monty tried to hurt one of us, or stick his filthy cock in that girl and all you had to defend yourself was your own two fists against Monty’s metal.” Junior closed his eyes briefly, and Cole knew he’d gotten through to him. A man in Cole’s crew had to be armed, at all times, and it was a mistake deserving of punishment.
“Yes, sir,” Junior repeated, taking the gun from Cole and tucking it into his holster.
“You listen to me,” Cole said. Junior raised his eyes to him, and Cole stared at him. Junior was prepared to take the rest of the lecture like a man. Good. But Cole was done lecturing. “I heard what Monty said. We all did. He’ll pay for that, you mark me,” he whispered. “You know how I run this crew. And I ain’t never takin’ no boy who ain’t worth his salt. You got that? We’d have been strung up from the highest rafters in Carson if you hadn’t been with us last month, and I well know it.”
Junior’s eyes softened, and he nodded. “Then why’re we with them? Eatin’ dinner? Makin’ friends?”
“You’ll see,” Cole said, straightening. He’d only tell Junior as much as he needed to know. He’d only tellanyof them as much as they needed to know. “For now, you do as you’re told. Go help Doc.”
Junior obediently went over to Doc. Cole reached his hands to Aida’s waist and helped her down. He could tell from the look on her face she’d heard all, but she kept her tongue. As her feet hit the ground, he drew her to him in a quick embrace, and this time it was not for show, but instinctive. She did not stiffen but gave into it. “That’s a good girl,” he whispered in her ear. “You stay away from this crew. You stay near me. So help me, Aida, I don’t want you out of my sight. You hear me?”
She nodded briefly before she pulled away.
Monty would burn in hell for what he’d done. But if Cole had his way, he’d pay long before then.
* * *
“Tell me there’s more than beans andcornbread,” Aida mumbled, her lips pursed.
She’d endured the raucous meal, as Monty and his gang regaled Cole’s crew with tales of their most recent exploits. Aida was no doubt horrified by their deplorable manners. Cole couldn’t help being rarely sickened himself. God almighty, who ate with one side of his mouth and chewed tobacco with the other? Disgusting.
He was so intent on keeping an eye on Monty and his men that he’d nearly forgotten Aida was there. She’d sat quietly by his side, but as he glanced at her now, he noted the flash of her eyes, the thinned lips, her arms tucked tight against her chest. And damn, if she got any closer to him she’d be sitting in his lap.
Still, she couldn’t be allowed to carry on with such comments. Cole fixed her with a stern look. “Beans and cornbread fill our bellies,” he said in a low voice, so that he wouldn’t be overheard. “And you’ll eat what you’re given without griping.”
She scoffed, tossing her head. “Where I’m from, we eat a varied diet,” she said, her teeth gritted.
What the hell was she playing at? Did the girlwanther backside blistered? He reached for her chin and drew her face to his, tilting her head up, his fingers grasping firmly enough she winced.
He leaned in so he could whisper in her ear, “WhereIcome from, little girls do as they’re told unless they want to be taken across their daddy’s lap.”
She yanked her chin away from him and looked away. Shit. She was pulling thisnow? He scraped the last of his food with his spoon and ate it quickly, before he stood and handed his bowl and Aida’s to Doc. He took her by the hand and squeezed, pulling her so that she stood close by his side.
Her lips were still pursed, and she continued muttering. “Crick in my neck the size of a goose egg. Filthy men who eat with their mouths open. My dress needs a good scrub, and this coffee is the worst swill I’ve ever downed in my life.” She tried fruitlessly to pull her hand away from his, but he held fast. He’d not abide brats at any time, least of all at a time when her safety was in a precarious position. Cole held tight to her hand and clenched his jaw.
“Aida, you mind your tongue,” he ordered.
To his surprise, she finally yanked her hand away from him, planted both hands on her hips, and glared. “No.”
A sudden flash of shock hit him a split second before his instincts kicked in. Didn’t matter what had gotten into the little brat. Didn’t matter who was there, or that they had a schedule to keep. She needed a firm hand. She needed a good, hard spanking to get her head on straight. His gaze flitted to his strap before he turned his head, narrowing his eyes on the thin branches of a nearby birch. The strap would be loud and draw unwanted attention. He needed something that would be quiet and sting enough to make a good, lasting impression.
Doc eyed him wordlessly as he stacked the dirty bowls. Cole tucked Aida by his side, and marched her past the rest of the men. Junior stood with his arms crossed, his eyes focused on Monty in undisguised hatred. At least they’d be able to get by him without raising his goddamn protective instincts of all things feminine. Justice sat close enough to Monty’s crew that one would think he was one of them, laughing his fool head off at something one of Monty’s men was saying to him. The sight set Cole’s nerves on edge. It might do well to feign friendship, but he wondered how much Justice was actually feigning. He was not amused by the fact that her behavior was taking him away from what he needed to do here, with his men. She’d get another good round for that.
“Let go of my hand,” Aida hissed.
