him.
He tried to get up, but she was quicker and kicked him square in the head. He went down, motionless.
Eyes riveted to the show, Tracy forgot the people around her and their proper manners. “Holy crap!”
The exhilarated curse flew out of her mouth, her mind spinning from exhilaration at Jessica’s feat, and she pulled at Garrett’s sleeve. “Did you see that? She kicked his ass big time.”
“She most certainly did,” Garrett agreed.
“That was incredible,” she replied.
But unlike her, he didn’t seem awed by the woman’s stunt, not even amused.
“Miss Richardson,” he said, “I don’t wish to put a damper on your felicity, but could you let go of my arm, please?”
He remained as cold as a meat storage locker in a Siberian bunker. Nothing ever moved him. Nothing ever excited him. Well . . . she had. Once.
Jake took out an old-fashioned version of a first-aid kit from a cabinet. He cleaned Weedon’s wound, his patient clenching his teeth through the ordeal, and bandaged his arm. That was the extent of what they could do.
She dealt with the cut on Garrett’s cheek as soon as she got her hands on the first-aid kit. Not much to work with in the box, yet a kind of antique Band-Aid did the trick. Then she called out to Jake, “Is Weedon going to be okay?”
“For a while, but he needs a physician.”
His patching job done, he left them to go help Jessica bring the unconscious attacker back to The Drifter . The pair hauled him inside and dumped him on the floor.
The cowboy came to when they threw water in his face. He used the wall to sit up right before Jessica put a knife against his throat. “What were you after? Don’t lie to me, I’m not in the mood.”
The man already had a taste of her. He also didn’t appear trained to endure torture. Or didn’t feel like it. “It ain’t my fault, I swear. I was told to capture a woman. Not you though, ma’am. The sissy one.”
He gasped for air and his eyes widened when Jessica threw his head back. “Who?”
Despite the terror filling his gaze, he managed to point his chin at the standing group. “Her.”
Tracy looked around. What the hell? Who had referred to her as the sissy one?
But the interrogation wasn’t over. “Why?” Jessica demanded.
“Don’t know why. I just do what people want.”
Yeah, didn’t they all? Still, coming out of the cowboy’s mouth, the statement sounded pretty likely.
Unfazed, Jessica shifted her wrist. “Who paid you?”
He groaned when, knife in hand, she tugged on his hair and grazed the skin of his throat from left to right.
“Don’t know.”
“Answer me!” She applied a little pressure, drawing blood.
Wide-eyed, the prisoner drooled. His chin glistened with saliva. “I don’t know. A man paid me good to do the job.”
“What did he look like?”
“Come on, ma’am. I ain’t never seen the man before, I promise.”
Standing closest to Jessica, Garrett bent down to put a calming hand on her shoulder. “Don’t haul him over the coals. He’s only playing second fiddle.”
Looking panicked by this beautiful woman who didn’t seem able to see reason, the cowboy shouted, “Please, ma’am, don’t! He was nobody, that’s all I know. But yeah, hold on . . .”
“What?” Jessica said in a menacing tone.
“He spoke funny.”
She yanked his head again, unimpressed by his sudden willingness to spill the beans all over the floor. “Funny how?”
“Like him.” He pointed at Garrett.
In a swift motion, all heads turned to him before he addressed the cowboy with a low and threatening voice. “What do you mean to say?”
“I mean like you, big words and funny accent.”
Jake snapped his fingers and a fierce, malicious light glinted in his eyes as he faced Garrett. “Did you hire the guy? Why now, who would have guessed you were a traitor?”
“Not now, Cooper.
Having dismissed the gunslinger, Garrett crouched beside the cowboy. “What were you supposed to do with the
He tried to get up, but she was quicker and kicked him square in the head. He went down, motionless.
Eyes riveted to the show, Tracy forgot the people around her and their proper manners. “Holy crap!”
The exhilarated curse flew out of her mouth, her mind spinning from exhilaration at Jessica’s feat, and she pulled at Garrett’s sleeve. “Did you see that? She kicked his ass big time.”
“She most certainly did,” Garrett agreed.
“That was incredible,” she replied.
But unlike her, he didn’t seem awed by the woman’s stunt, not even amused.
“Miss Richardson,” he said, “I don’t wish to put a damper on your felicity, but could you let go of my arm, please?”
He remained as cold as a meat storage locker in a Siberian bunker. Nothing ever moved him. Nothing ever excited him. Well . . . she had. Once.
Jake took out an old-fashioned version of a first-aid kit from a cabinet. He cleaned Weedon’s wound, his patient clenching his teeth through the ordeal, and bandaged his arm. That was the extent of what they could do.
She dealt with the cut on Garrett’s cheek as soon as she got her hands on the first-aid kit. Not much to work with in the box, yet a kind of antique Band-Aid did the trick. Then she called out to Jake, “Is Weedon going to be okay?”
“For a while, but he needs a physician.”
His patching job done, he left them to go help Jessica bring the unconscious attacker back to The Drifter . The pair hauled him inside and dumped him on the floor.
The cowboy came to when they threw water in his face. He used the wall to sit up right before Jessica put a knife against his throat. “What were you after? Don’t lie to me, I’m not in the mood.”
The man already had a taste of her. He also didn’t appear trained to endure torture. Or didn’t feel like it. “It ain’t my fault, I swear. I was told to capture a woman. Not you though, ma’am. The sissy one.”
He gasped for air and his eyes widened when Jessica threw his head back. “Who?”
Despite the terror filling his gaze, he managed to point his chin at the standing group. “Her.”
Tracy looked around. What the hell? Who had referred to her as the sissy one?
But the interrogation wasn’t over. “Why?” Jessica demanded.
“Don’t know why. I just do what people want.”
Yeah, didn’t they all? Still, coming out of the cowboy’s mouth, the statement sounded pretty likely.
Unfazed, Jessica shifted her wrist. “Who paid you?”
He groaned when, knife in hand, she tugged on his hair and grazed the skin of his throat from left to right.
“Don’t know.”
“Answer me!” She applied a little pressure, drawing blood.
Wide-eyed, the prisoner drooled. His chin glistened with saliva. “I don’t know. A man paid me good to do the job.”
“What did he look like?”
“Come on, ma’am. I ain’t never seen the man before, I promise.”
Standing closest to Jessica, Garrett bent down to put a calming hand on her shoulder. “Don’t haul him over the coals. He’s only playing second fiddle.”
Looking panicked by this beautiful woman who didn’t seem able to see reason, the cowboy shouted, “Please, ma’am, don’t! He was nobody, that’s all I know. But yeah, hold on . . .”
“What?” Jessica said in a menacing tone.
“He spoke funny.”
She yanked his head again, unimpressed by his sudden willingness to spill the beans all over the floor. “Funny how?”
“Like him.” He pointed at Garrett.
In a swift motion, all heads turned to him before he addressed the cowboy with a low and threatening voice. “What do you mean to say?”
“I mean like you, big words and funny accent.”
Jake snapped his fingers and a fierce, malicious light glinted in his eyes as he faced Garrett. “Did you hire the guy? Why now, who would have guessed you were a traitor?”
“Not now, Cooper.
Having dismissed the gunslinger, Garrett crouched beside the cowboy. “What were you supposed to do with the
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