Chapter Four
“What were those papers on the table?” she asked some time later. “The ones you and the marshal were talking about?”
She felt his sigh, and he moved to sit up. She rolled to her back and watched as he flipped back the covers and got out of bed. It was pointless to pretend she wasn’t watching him. His body was fascinating to her. And her inexperience in bed had made her timid when it came to exploring his body. But he’d encouraged her, telling her to touch him how she wanted, and telling her what pleased him.
“If you keep looking at me like that we won’t end up having this conversation until much later.”
He searched on the floor for his shirt and found the papers folded in his front pocket.
“Marshal Calhoun came all this way because the Silver Creek Bandits have escalated. They think my expertise in tracking, and my ability with a gun, might help them locate the gang and put an end to them once and for all.”
He handed her the folded papers and she opened them slowly, wondering at the unusual heaviness of the parchment.
“Their last hit was in Denver, and a witness managed to give a likeness rendering before the Silver Creek Bandits killed him and his entire family.”
Elizabeth looked through the images in front of her, studying each face with the careful attention she gave to everything. The first two men were strangers—rough-looking characters with hard eyes and cruel mouths, the kind of men you crossed the street to avoid. The sketches were remarkably detailed, capturing not just features but something of their character, the violence that lived behind their eyes.
And then she came to the last image, and her heart simply stopped.
Her blood chilled, turning to ice in her veins. The world seemed to tilt sideways, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t process what she was seeing. The face staring back at her from the parchment was Cole’s face—the same strong jawline, the same straight nose, the same piercing eyes that seemed to look right through her. Even the slight crook to the smile was the same, though on this face it looked predatory rather than warm.
“I don’t understand.” Her voice came out thin and shaky, and she had to swallow hard before she could continue. Her hands were trembling so badly the papers rattled. “Why are you in here? Cole, what is this? Did someone accuse you of—” She couldn’t even finish the sentence, the implications too horrible to voice.
But even as she asked, even as her mind scrambled for explanations that made sense, some part of her knew. The sketch was too precise, too specific to be a coincidence. And there was something in Cole’s expression—resignation, maybe, or a weary sort of inevitability—that told her this was exactly what he’d been dreading.
“I told you I had a brother,” Cole said quietly, coming over to her and sitting down on the bed beside her. The mattress dipped with his weight and she felt the warmth of him, solid and real and so different from the cold menace captured in the sketch. “What I didn’t tell you is that he’s my identical twin.”
“Oh, my goodness.” It didn’t take her long to see the possibilities. “They’re going to think it’s you.”
“No, no,” he said, coming over to her and sitting down on the bed. “The government knows about Riley. They have a file on him. I told you that we didn’t have a real family growing up. Let’s just say that I think my father was afraid of Riley, and he resented working the ranch. He took off at fifteen, and my father was relieved. I left two years later, hoping to find…something. Myself maybe. So I took off, and met some Sioux in Montana territory. They showed me how to hunt, how to track.” His mouth twitched. “I showed them some things too. They were my friends.”
A look came over Cole’s face that made her realize he’d gone back to those days, remembering whatever horrors he’d lived through.
“The Black Hills War was a nightmare. Right from the start. The government was so determined to take that land from the Sioux. It’s a heck of a thing when right and wrong interfere with duty.”
“You always do the right thing,” she said, her confidence in him staggering.
“I guess I’m lucky,” he said, blowing out a breath. “Things could’ve gone much worse for me than they did. I managed to keep the Sioux I’d met protected. So they knew where the ambushes would occur. And when the time came, I approached our government with the idea for a treaty between the US and the Sioux. Luckily, we were able to end the war with a peaceful resolution.”
She reached out and took his hand “You could have been killed. From either side. That was incredibly brave.”
“Bravery is a lot more appealing when you’re young and have nothing to live for. My brother must have felt the same, but he worked from the other side of things. He sold secrets to whoever paid him the most. Because of him, entire Sioux families were wiped out. Women, children… It didn’t matter to him as long as the gold was real.
“They never caught him. He was always a step ahead. Which is why I’m not surprised he’s had such success as the leader of the Silver Creek Bandits. They think I’ll be able to find him because I know how he thinks and where he’ll go.”
“And where do you think he’ll go?” she asked.
“I think he’ll come looking for me. It’s just another reason that I need to stay here.”
There was a loud pounding at the door and she jerked in surprise. It wasn’t late in the evening yet, about dinnertime, but things were quiet because of the storm. She’d felt safe and cocooned inside their temporary lodgings.
“What in the world?” Cole said, grabbing the blanket from the end of the bed and wrapping it around his waist.
He headed toward the door, and she wasn’t about to be left out. She grabbed the blanket off the rocking chair that creaked with every movement and her pistol from her gun belt, and then she stood out of the way as Cole went to the door.
“Who’s there?” he asked.
“It’s Calhoun. We’ve got a situation. And it’s not a good one. We need guns. Any you can muster up.”
