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

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Zachariah sat beside the fire and watched Craig closely. The man was beginning to stir and Zachariah didn't like the way Wyatt seemed confused and angry—and he was fairly certain he could see hurt in those brown eyes as well as he studied Craig.

Why was Craig here? Did he want to convince Wyatt to go home? Did he mean Wyatt harm? Were he and Wyatt truly just friends or had there been something more and now Craig had come to rekindle it? That would explain that storm of conflicting emotions in Wyatt's eyes.

And what would Zachariah do if that were the case? Calmly turn around and walk away? Yell, scream and fight to keep Wyatt with him? Perhaps skin the blond-haired bastard alive—the possibilities were quite endless.

"Holy mother of pearl....I've got a lump the size of a boulder and a headache to match. I'm gonna shoot the bastard that hit me as soon as I can move with crying."

Zachariah's attention snapped back to Craig as the man slowly sat up and his eyes blinked open. The first person his blurry gaze landed on was Zachariah and, at the sight of him, they widened substantially.

"Damn. You are one big, ugly bastard. I guess I should be happy I ain't dead and quit grumbling about a lump."

Wyatt surprised them both when he leaned forward and shoved Craig. Hard. Nearly toppling the wobbly man over.

"Wyatt!" Craig smiled but the smile quickly vanished at the hard glare Wyatt sent back.

'What are you doing here?' Wyatt demanded.

Craig frowned. "What do you mean? I'm your best friend, Wyatt. Why wouldn't I be here?"

Zachariah saw Wyatt's brow rise as his jaw popped and his eyes redden. 'You weren't my friend last time we talked.'

Craig paled and swallowed hard. "I'm sorry." He glanced over at Zachariah as if hoping he'd go away.

That wasn't going to happen.

"I was in a bad place. I was drinking too much. I took my hurt out on you and I shouldn't have done that."

'You're in a better place now?' Wyatt asked, his expression skeptical.

Craig shrugged. "I miss Willie and I always will. And I miss that life. But I'm done drinking myself into a stupor."

'Why the change?'

Craig sighed and kicked at the dirt. "Jeb had a few not nice things to say to me after he tossed me in a watering trough. I took a few days to sober up, cool off and realized he was right."

Zachariah simply watched Wyatt closely. He had learned every nuance of the man's expressions and posture. He could read him like a book. It was clear that Wyatt was still a bit hurt and confused but a wide smile was soon splitting his face and he slid over to wrap Craig in a warm hug.

Great. One more person stealing Wyatt's affection while Zachariah was left with none. He'd spent his whole life affectionless—it shouldn't bother him. But those few hugs and gentle touches from Wyatt had meant more to Zachariah than he could put into words and he wanted more.

Just to remind the two distracted men that he was still around, Zachariah cleared his throat. Craig turned to look at him as Wyatt pulled away. The look on Craig's face was anything but friendly.