“You were the one to beg me to stay with you. You!” Cole said, hurrying back to the house in a roundabout way that would not put him at risk of brushing against Ned by accident. “But fine. I’ll be out of your hair now. Thank you for showing me I’ve made the right decision!”
“Wrap your fucking hand!” Ned yelled and threw the wet bandana at him so it slapped Cole in the back of the head. Cole spun around and wanted to hurl it right back, but when he realized it was the plaid piece of fabric Ned had given him before that last, disastrous job, he squeezed it dry instead and rushed into the house. He was about to go straight for his saddlebags when he spotted the flames eating up his expensive boot, which he must have left too close to the fire.
He put it out with a dense blanket, but the beautiful brown leather he’d oiled so often was ruined. Outside, Ned screamed in his mindless fury, and a part of Cole was grateful to him for showing his true colors. He’d be able to close the O’Leary chapter of his life once and for all.
Dog ran out to join his crazed master, so at least nothing would be whining and bothering Cole as he packed. He was still smart enough to leave first thing tomorrow instead of in the middle of the night, but Ned had another thing coming if he thought they’d be sharing a bed one last time. He packed his clothes, his trinkets, and even donned the burned boot, frantic in his need to get away. He might spend the night in the stable and venture out before first light. That way, he’d never have to see Ned’s face again.
Behind him, the bastard kept pacing with no purpose, but Cole ignored him and grabbed the photo Ned had displayed on the mantelpiece, immediately stuffing it into the inner pocket of his coat.
“That’s mine!” Ned growled, dashing into the cabin with bared teeth.
“Not anymore it isn’t. Won’t leave it for you to burn,” Cole roared, more determined with every breath he took. No. He would not stay in the stable. He would leave. It was warm enough to sleep out there, and that was what he would do. His feet would never again cross the threshold of this godforsaken house.
Ned slammed the door shut and pulled on the latch. “Give it back!”
Cole dropped his saddlebag and faced him, squeezing his hands into fists. “No. You don’t deserve to have it!”
Ned didn’t wait for a punch and charged at Cole with a furious roar. “I’ll have it, and I’ll burn it if I want to!”
“Over my dead body,” Cole growled, ducking to smash his fist into Ned’s gut, but Ned grabbed his head with one arm, and they rolled onto the floor, furiously grabbing at one another in the effort to gain the upper hand.
Dog jumped around them as if he didn’t know who to help, but he still barked in warning. With Cole’s luck, it would be Dog that bit into his throat and ended him.
When he managed to grab a squirming Ned and slam his face into the wolf fur covering the floor by the fireplace, Dog growled, backing off a little.
But instead of fighting, Ned stilled. “Did you hear that?” he mumbled, staring toward the door as if he were about to come up with more of his ridiculous ghost stories.
“Hear what?” Cole asked, even though a voice at the back of his mind whispered it was a ploy that would allow Ned to turn the tables and, in a fit of jealousy, push Cole head-first into the fire, so he’d be burned beyond recognition and never have anyone desire him again.
Ned pushed Cole’s hand away as if the fight had been just a game. Dog’s ears perked up and he too spun toward the door
“I think someone tried to get in,” Ned said with a frown. “Ghosts?” he whispered to Dog, and Cole could have sworn the beast nodded.
“You won’t make me stay by pretending you’ve gone mad,” Cole said, stretching his back while Ned and his pet stared at the entrance.
But his hairs bristled when he picked up a faint whinny coming from the front of the house.
“I’m not—” Ned started, but a voice outside made both of them stiffen.
“I know you’re in there, lovebirds!”
They both recognized that voice.
Chapter 15
Over the years, Cole hadn’t thought of Zeb much. He’d heard of him breaking out of prison at some point but could have sworn the press had reported his recapture. He hadn’t bothered to seek out the man or attend his execution, because the time apart made him think back to all the things Zeb had done, to the excessive use of violence toward people who would have submitted without much fight. Most of all though, Zeb was convinced Cole had been in on Ned’s scheme and would have crushed his skull without giving Cole the chance to explain himself.
Zeb was a closed chapter. Or so it seemed before Cole heard him shouting outside—deep in the mountains, on this faraway patch of forested land.
His gaze gravitated to Ned, who rushed to the only window left with the shutters open, and closed them with a latch.
“I couldn’t believe it when I read the news that you two rats were being hung together. Almost felt sorry that I didn’t get to slit your throats myself!” Zeb yelled. “But lo and behold, Cole Flores and Ned O’Leary escape the law again. News of this feat that left five, including the sheriff, dead, reached me all the way in the Montana Territory.”
“We’ve got no quarrel with you anymore!” Ned yelled, putting on his boots, but this wouldn’t do. The way Zeb saw it, no punishment would be enough for what Ned had done, but he’d still skin them alive and watch as crows picked at their exposed insides.
“Dress warm,” Cole whispered, backing away to quickly pick up his gun belt and buckle it. The revolvers were loaded, but who the fuck could guess whether Zeb was here alone. For all they knew, he could have taken his time and recruited a bunch of surviving gang members, who also believed Cole had been complicit in Tom’s death.
They were surrounded and unable to see the scale of the threat, because darkness would hide all of Zeb’s companions.
Dog stilled and laid on the floor the moment Ned put a finger to his lips and shook his head. Sometimes, Cole had been annoyed by how much time Ned spent with the beast, but he was now glad for its training.
Cole tried to think of his options, but every possibility he considered inevitably ended with confrontation. His blood boiled, and cold shivers trailed down his back, keeping him in a strange limbo where his mind achieved complete focus while his body trembled with rage and worry. He didn’t want to kill Zeb, as bad of a man as he was, but there was no other way.
Cole faced the door and spoke, “You got it all wrong, Zeb. I was loyal to the very end.”
“That why you’re holed up together, all cozy?” Zeb roared, and the door rattled as if he’d thrown his weight against it. “I’ve been looking two months for you. Even considered giving up a few times, but I kept going. Tom himself must have led me here, you bastards. If you were loyal, you would have shot that lying fucker long ago.”
Perhaps he would have, but Cole wasn’t sure where his loyalties lay anymore. He looked back at Ned, trying to think as his brain cooked with unease. How many guns were they up against? Zeb could just starve them out.
Ned had dressed and was in the process of loading a shotgun when Cole nodded at him and stood to the left of the door, in case Zeb chose to shoot through it.