greeting surprised Cody into
stillness. His ears flattened against the side of his head and he hunched down,
his muscles preparing for the spring. “You find out everything you needed to
know about us yet?” The man, no he was more of a boy, younger than Cody by at
least four years, maybe more. His voice, though deep, still carried that faint
hint of quavering that suggested a late change, a late bloomer.
The scent of his cheroot interfered the
boy’s scent. Top notes of horse and sweat were strong, but below that,
something teased Cody’s senses. He couldn’t label it.
“I know you’ve been watching us. I know
you’ve been following us.” A hint of laughter shivered his words as he exhaled
a long stream of smoke. He’d abandoned his Stetson to sit on the rock next to
him, and despite his casual posture, there was wariness to his muscles, a
preparedness that warned Cody to stillness.
“So I’ll say it plain. We’re not going to
stop until we get the gold back. You’re not going to lose us as long as you’re
slowed by the gold. So leave the gold in the canyon. If I find it there in the
morning, we’ll take it back to Dorado. You can go your way.” A flick of the
cheroot sent smoking ash to the desert floor. “You don’t leave it. We’ll stay
on you. We’re going to get faster, you’re just going to get slower. We catch up
to you. They’re going to hang you.”
Cody cocked his head to the side, staring
at the boy. He rose from his crouch, stepping forward until he was certain the
boy saw him. The young man’s eyes widened. He curled his lips back, giving the
boy a very good look at his teeth.
“Okay. Maybe they’ll just shoot you.” The
tone was conversational, but the scent soured with a hint of fear.
The bland delivery amused Cody despite his
irritation with the boy, even as the rough scent of fear calmed him. He cocked
his head, ears flicking forward. There was more to the boy than his appearance
suggested. He was young, but his gaze carried the weight of years.
They stared at each other, waiting. Cody
knew the boy wasn’t done talking. His urge to listen was surprising, but he
waited, nonetheless.
“You should go. They’ll send someone over
to check on me. Can’t lose me or my Pa would shoot them. They’re not a bad
bunch, but they don’t like thieves. I meant what I said about the gold. Leave
it. We’ll take it back.” The boy shifted, but it was slow, every move
telegraphed carefully. He was setting the gun aside. Laying it on the rock.
Cody’s ears flattened as he watched. The
boy was putting down his only measure of defense. If Cody pounced now, he could
snap his neck before he got off a sound or could scrabble to reclaim the gun.
Why?
Not for the first time, he wished he could
communicate in a manner that humans would understand. But he would have to
shift to do that. He wasn’t going to shift in front of the stranger.
“Look. I don’t know if you really are
understanding me or if I’ve gone completely sun struck, but you left that girl
behind in the vault. My brother’s the Marshal. He arrested her and was going to
send for a judge. If I don’t get that gold back, they may string her up for
your crime.”
Cody growled, rising to all four feet. His
fur did more than bristle now. They were not hanging his Scarlett. He’d kill
them all first.
“Yeah, I thought that might get your
attention. So leave the gold. I’ll take it back. Don’t let that girl hang for
what you did.”
How the boy recognized Cody could even
understand him, he didn’t care. He glared at him. That was the second time he’d
threatened the hanging. Red hazed the edges of his vision.
Teeth bared, he lunged and the boy
scrabbled backwards, but Cody had already turned and raced into the
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley