Caden smiled. “Nothing I care to talk about with you.”
The other man with him, not a youngster but clearly younger, maybe even family because he had the same muddy-colored eyes and the same set to his narrow mouth, spat.
“Well, if you want to get any farther than six feet under right now, I suggest you be telling us the nature of your business.”
“I came to talk to Culbart about a filly.” He figured it was a safe gambit. Everyone knew Culbart aimed to beat out Hell’s Eight as a breeder of horses.
The younger man rode around until he could see the brand on Jester’s side.
“Since when do Hell’s Eight go searching for fillies?”
“Since we’re always on the lookout for new breeding stock. Can’t improve the herd without it.”
It was the truth. The older man grunted. “What’s your name, stranger?”
“Caden Miller.”
Only by a blink of an eye and a tightening of his hand on the trigger did either man give any indication his name meant anything. Caden made note of the response. Only hired guns had that instinctive shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later attitude.
With a motion of the gun barrel, the older man indicated to go forward.
“I can find my own way. No need to give up your post.”
“You let us worry about the guard here. You just worry about keeping your hands clear of those guns.”
From that Caden deduced, they were done with their shift, and their replacements were in position. Another thing to note. Culbart’s men weren’t slipshod when it came to switching the guard. That was going to complicate things.
Nobody attempted to make conversation on the ride up to the ranch. Caden didn’t, either. Silence worked for him. It gave him time to study the lay of the land, looking for potential dangers, spots to hide and whatever he might need to utilize on the escape. There was no telling what condition Maddie would be in. He had to prepare for any eventuality. His index finger pulled on an imaginary trigger. If she was hurt at all, they were all going to die. Maddie was Hell’s Eight. More than that, she was his friend.
Caden was the center of attention when they rode into the ranch. He wasn’t surprised. He doubted the Fallen C got many visitors. The remoteness of the location, plus the hostiles around, pretty much guaranteed that. Under the watchful eyes of his guards, he swung down from Jester. Cutting a glance at his guards, he mentioned too casually, “I expect to be leaving with all that I came with.”
The younger man spat to the side. “I’d worry more about leaving with your life.”
Вы ознакомились с фрагментом книги.
Приобретайте полный текст книги у нашего партнера: