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

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Zachariah was completely lost in thought and nearly cried out with shock when the tent flap suddenly flew to the side and a mess of red hair entered his line of vision.

"I'm over here," he announced quietly, hoping she wouldn't do what seemed to come natural to her and scream as she hid herself away.

Instead she turned to face him and Zachariah found himself staring at a pair of wide green eyes in a pale face. "You want to know about her, don't you?" the woman inquired, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"You know about her?" Zachariah demanded. He barely managed to suppress the urge to reach out, take her by the shoulders and shake her violently when she didn't answer immediately. Instead he balled his hands into fists and clenched them tightly. "Do you know Eleanor?"

The woman stepped out of the tent, keeping the wool blanket she was wrapped in, tight around her body despite the heat of the evening. She sat down on the ground and pulled her knees into her chest as she stared hard at Zachariah's legs.

"They took her away about two days before you arrived."

Shit. He'd missed her by that much?

"Was she alive?"

The woman met his gaze as her face paled and her eyes darkened. "She was breathing. I wouldn't call any woman Clint has held captive alive."

Zachariah squeezed his eyes shut tight as he swallowed down a hard ball of twisted guilt, sadness and bile. He didn't open his eyes when he asked. "Do you know where they took her?"

"No."

That one word sent a rock crashing through Zachariah's gut. No. She didn't know. He had been so sure that she would know. He'd been so sure that she would be his ticket to finding his missing sister.

But she wasn't going to be

She didn't know.

A hand fell upon Zachariah's shoulder and he didn't even have to open his eyes to know that he'd see Wyatt's dark skin. The hand squeezed gently and Zachariah let himself lean back against the man whose presence gave him comfort.

A quick glance to the campfire revealed Craig sitting beside the flames alone and looking none too happy about it.

"I'm sorry I'm no help," the woman whispered. "I can only say she was breathing when they took her away. She left with Clint and two other men."

Zachariah simply nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak just yet. The woman quickly ducked back into her tent and let the flap fall. Wyatt came to the front of Zachariah and crouched down to his level.

His soulful brown eyes let his with a certainty that was breathtaking. 'We'll find her, Zachariah. They still have her alive and she's waiting for us. We won't let her down.'

Zachariah nodded but didn't speak. If he spoke, it would be around the lump currently lodged in his throat and Zachariah didn't want Wyatt realizing just how close to tears he was.

Finally, Zachariah glanced at Craig. "What about him?"

'He's helping.'

Great. One more person standing between Zachariah and Wyatt and any time alone the two might have. Zachariah sighed. It was probably a blessing that Craig was coming along. He needed to be focused on finding Eleanor, not getting Wyatt alone.