Charley down and his cousin would never let him forget it. As if he could. "Being brave doesn't mean being stupid."
Charley snatched up the knife and twisted in his chair. "Are you calling me stupid?"
Jake eyed the razor-sharp blade pointed at him. "Are you going to gut me with that thing?"
His cousin’s frown became troubled. The knife disappeared into the sheath in his boot. Was his conscience bothering him?
Jake’s hopes lifted. There might be a chance to turn things around if he could reach the old Charley, the one trapped inside this cold-hearted man. "We don’t have to steal, Tsa-li . We can find a way to protect our land without bringing shame on our family.”
Charley's lips thinned. "I’m not ashamed of what I’ve don e. And I'm not so yellow I'd run from a fight.”
“We can't fight them all.” Jake’s shoulders sagged with weariness. “I’m going to talk to the big chief tomorrow. If I can negotiate a deal, we can end this—”
“Not interested in negotiating.” Charley picked up his hat and stood.
Jake shoved his chair asid e and followed his cousin out the swinging doors. Elbowing past a knot of men, he strode into the street and grabbed Charley’s arm. “Listen to me. I won’t let you—”
Charley whirled around and slammed his fist into Jake's nose.
Pain splintered through Jake's face. He staggered back, blood spewing from his nose. He blinked to clear his vision.
“You stinking coward.” Charley sneered. “Was bedding that white woman worth it? Maybe I’ll go see what it is she’s got that makes you so eager to do her bidding.”
White-hot rage streaked through Jake. He threw a hard punch to Charley's jaw, snapping his head back. Before his cousin could react, he hammered Charley's midsection, forcing him to retreat.
With a snarl, Charley came back, fists pounding like rocks against Jake's ribs. Soon Jake lost count of how many punches he'd given or gotten.
"Fight!" someone shouted. Men poured out of the saloon, forming a ring around them . Excited voices peppered the air with vulgar encouragements.
Jake grappled with his cousin . His feet kept slipping. They fell to the ground and he shoved his cousin's shoulders down, sinking him into the thick mud. Straddling Charley's chest, he delivered punishing blows. The blood of his warrior ancestors pounded in his ears like ancient drumbeats.
"Break it up!" A barked order from behind penetrated the red haze.
Jake shook off his bloodlust. The mud made a sucking sound as he pulled his knees out of it, and staggered to his feet. He grabbed his ribs at the sharp pain.
“What’s the problem, gentlemen?” The commanding voice belonged to a bluecoat, an officer by the look of it.
A curse escaped before Jake could bite it off. Bad enough he’d let Charley goad him into a fight. Drawing unwanted attention from the Army was the last thing they needed. He wiped his mouth, and his fingers came away smeared with a mixture of blood and drool.
"Pers'nal matter," he mumbled around a split lip.
Charley groaned as he sat. His nose bled, the reddened flesh around his eyes was swelling, he looked like he’d been run down by a stampede. Were his ribs busted, too?
Jake offered his hand.
His cousin ignored it. He got to his knees and awkwardly crawled to his feet, wearing a sullen frown.
" Show's over. Move on," the soldier instructed the crowd.
D isappointed grumbles faded as spectators shuffled back toward the saloon. A few holdouts clustered behind the hitching rail.
" Are you the man who accompanied Miss Parsons into the hotel?"
The question startled Jake. He hadn’t seen any soldiers when he and Kate arrived. He picked up his hat, trying to act unconcerned. "Who wants to know?"
"Major Bradford.” The officer held Jake's gaze. “My wife and I own the hotel."
Jake's shoulder's tensed. Mrs. Bradford. Eden. Why would she send her husband after him? Or—his heart tripped—had Redbird flown to the authorities, thinking
Charley snatched up the knife and twisted in his chair. "Are you calling me stupid?"
Jake eyed the razor-sharp blade pointed at him. "Are you going to gut me with that thing?"
His cousin’s frown became troubled. The knife disappeared into the sheath in his boot. Was his conscience bothering him?
Jake’s hopes lifted. There might be a chance to turn things around if he could reach the old Charley, the one trapped inside this cold-hearted man. "We don’t have to steal, Tsa-li . We can find a way to protect our land without bringing shame on our family.”
Charley's lips thinned. "I’m not ashamed of what I’ve don e. And I'm not so yellow I'd run from a fight.”
“We can't fight them all.” Jake’s shoulders sagged with weariness. “I’m going to talk to the big chief tomorrow. If I can negotiate a deal, we can end this—”
“Not interested in negotiating.” Charley picked up his hat and stood.
Jake shoved his chair asid e and followed his cousin out the swinging doors. Elbowing past a knot of men, he strode into the street and grabbed Charley’s arm. “Listen to me. I won’t let you—”
Charley whirled around and slammed his fist into Jake's nose.
Pain splintered through Jake's face. He staggered back, blood spewing from his nose. He blinked to clear his vision.
“You stinking coward.” Charley sneered. “Was bedding that white woman worth it? Maybe I’ll go see what it is she’s got that makes you so eager to do her bidding.”
White-hot rage streaked through Jake. He threw a hard punch to Charley's jaw, snapping his head back. Before his cousin could react, he hammered Charley's midsection, forcing him to retreat.
With a snarl, Charley came back, fists pounding like rocks against Jake's ribs. Soon Jake lost count of how many punches he'd given or gotten.
"Fight!" someone shouted. Men poured out of the saloon, forming a ring around them . Excited voices peppered the air with vulgar encouragements.
Jake grappled with his cousin . His feet kept slipping. They fell to the ground and he shoved his cousin's shoulders down, sinking him into the thick mud. Straddling Charley's chest, he delivered punishing blows. The blood of his warrior ancestors pounded in his ears like ancient drumbeats.
"Break it up!" A barked order from behind penetrated the red haze.
Jake shook off his bloodlust. The mud made a sucking sound as he pulled his knees out of it, and staggered to his feet. He grabbed his ribs at the sharp pain.
“What’s the problem, gentlemen?” The commanding voice belonged to a bluecoat, an officer by the look of it.
A curse escaped before Jake could bite it off. Bad enough he’d let Charley goad him into a fight. Drawing unwanted attention from the Army was the last thing they needed. He wiped his mouth, and his fingers came away smeared with a mixture of blood and drool.
"Pers'nal matter," he mumbled around a split lip.
Charley groaned as he sat. His nose bled, the reddened flesh around his eyes was swelling, he looked like he’d been run down by a stampede. Were his ribs busted, too?
Jake offered his hand.
His cousin ignored it. He got to his knees and awkwardly crawled to his feet, wearing a sullen frown.
" Show's over. Move on," the soldier instructed the crowd.
D isappointed grumbles faded as spectators shuffled back toward the saloon. A few holdouts clustered behind the hitching rail.
" Are you the man who accompanied Miss Parsons into the hotel?"
The question startled Jake. He hadn’t seen any soldiers when he and Kate arrived. He picked up his hat, trying to act unconcerned. "Who wants to know?"
"Major Bradford.” The officer held Jake's gaze. “My wife and I own the hotel."
Jake's shoulder's tensed. Mrs. Bradford. Eden. Why would she send her husband after him? Or—his heart tripped—had Redbird flown to the authorities, thinking
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