An Outlaw's Silence (manxman)(second story in The Crane Gang series)

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

After three more days of hard riding, Zachariah called a stop two hours earlier than usual. He needed some good rest and he knew that Wyatt and the horses did as well. They wouldn't do Eleanor a bit of good if they were all on their last legs when they found her.

He was happy they'd reached a pond, fed by a runoff stream and clear for drinking. That meant they could refill their water supply and wash a bit of the trail dirt off themselves. Zachariah had never been a man who minded hard work and getting dirty but he didn't like to stay that way.

As he went about setting up camp, Zachariah noticed Wyatt gathering up a spare outfit and a bar of soap. He headed toward the other side of the pond and Zachariah chuckled. "Where are you going?"

Wyatt turned to him and frowned, holding up the bar of soap. "You don't have to walk so far away."

Wyatt nodded enthusiastically. He pointed to Zachariah, then to his eye and then to his chest. Zachariah chuckled. "You're worried I'll see you? Are you shy?"

A sheepish nibble of the lip was Wyatt's only response. Damn, but that man lit a fire in Zachariah when he nibbled at that full bottom lip that way. "You don't have to be shy, Wyatt. You've seen me without my clothes. It's only fair that I get to see you."

Wyatt's eyes widened so dramatically, Zachariah feared they may pop right out of his head before he turned and darted swiftly away to the other side of the pond and the cattails that offered him privacy there.

Zachariah nearly smacked his own head. What had he been thinking saying that? Sure they'd been riding together nearly a week and Zachariah's want for the man was growing but that didn't mean he needed to help the temptation along! Hell, he didn't even know for sure if Wyatt wanted men or women.

Though, he had his suspicions that he knew the answer to that given Wyatt's bashfulness in certain situations and the way he'd caught the man staring at him during their days together—Hellfire! Thinking about those things only made it worse!

Attempting to ignore the throbbing in his trousers, Zachariah began gathering tinder for a small fire. Jerked beef and hardtack was getting tiresome and he wanted to cook a pot of beans and fry up a few potatoes.

He worked hard to ignore the sound of Wyatt splashing in the water as he brought the fire to a good roar. He was just melting a bit of lard in his cast iron skillet when a noise behind him had Zachariah whirling around.

"Well, well, what do we have here?"

Zachariah cursed under his breath and eyed the three men on horseback. They were dirty and unkempt but had the look and posture of men who knew well how to handle themselves.

He was supposed to be a man who knew how to handle himself! How in the hell did people keep sneaking up on him?!

"Can I help you gentlemen?" Zachariah asked calmly. He had his revolver on his hip and his knife on his leg. His rifle was resting against a rock ten feet away. All three men were armed but the man who had spoken hadn't pulled a weapon. His two riding companions had their guns resting in their hands.

"My friends and I are feeling a bit wore out from traveling. We'd like a warm meal and a place to sleep," the leader announced.

Zachariah didn't turn his head but was aware of one of the men dismounting his horse and beginning to rummage through the supplies on the pack mule.

"I've got plenty of food if you'd like some," Zachariah assured them.

The rummager frowned as he pointed toward the hitched horses. "He's got an awful lot of horses and supplies for someone out here alone."