According to Hoyle Page 12

  Rose and Cage both nodded obediently. Cage was wearing one of the new hats he’d purchased in St. Louis, but he was holding the second one Flynn had told him to buy. He lifted it to show Flynn that the hat was the only thing in his hands, then he held it out to Rose carefully. Rose took it, and the two men shared a significant look and warm smiles as Rose slid the gray hat onto his head with a nod of thanks.

  Flynn gave them both a last once-over and then gestured for them to head into the salon. If this went smoothly, Flynn would have to start attending church regularly again.

  Cage and the others stepped into the dining salon, and Cage looked around uneasily. The place wasn’t overly crowded, but it was busier than he’d expected it to be at such an early hour. There wasn’t much else to keep passengers entertained on the steamer; of course the saloon would be crowded. He hesitated, slowing until Flynn was at his back. He didn’t know if the marshals would decide to leave and come back later or go on with dinner now. Cage could feel how tense Flynn was in the chaotic atmosphere, and so he stuck close to him, hoping to reassure him that he didn’t intend to try to escape. Edgy lawmen with loaded guns were just as dangerous as cornered outlaws.

  Cage didn’t plan on running. It was too hard on the nerves, for one. But he trusted in Gabriel to have a plan, and he was going to stick around to see how it turned out. If it worked and they somehow got out of this legal mess unscathed, then Cage thought maybe they had a chance at something worth risking it for. The few moments they’d been able to steal together had felt special. If Gabriel’s plan didn’t work, then the aftermath would at least be entertaining to watch.

  The tables were lined up down the center of the room, with the ornate and polished stove off to the left and a bar lining the right wall. No one got to sit with their backs against the walls on a riverboat. Even with the gilded mirrors lining the salon, Cage shifted nervously in his seat, not liking the feeling of his back exposed to the large room and the crowd of strangers coming and going in it. Beside him, Gabriel seemed calm, but Cage could see his head turning every so often as his eyes darted to check behind him.

  “This should prove to be charming,” Gabriel murmured to him.

  Cage smiled. They weren’t restrained, at least. He held up his hands and laced his fingers together, setting his joined fists on the table in front of him.

  Gabriel was watching him sideways. “I agree,” he said with a smirk. “A shame we can’t make better use of our newfound freedom.”

  Cage turned his head toward Gabriel carefully as a dull, slow heat bloomed inside him. Just the prospect of being alone with Gabriel was exciting.

  “Enough of that,” Flynn said sternly.

  “He wasn’t talking about escaping, Flynn,” Wash said under his breath.

  Cage tried not to smile at the scandalized expression on Flynn’s face. Gabriel did laugh, and Cage could feel his face growing warmer as he glanced away. He took his hands from the table, placing them on his knees to keep from fidgeting.

  While Gabriel lightly poked fun at Flynn, Cage used the opportunity to study him, to truly ponder him. He couldn’t explain the almost instant feelings he’d developed for the man. He didn’t really want to try because deep down he feared they might not be real. And Cage wanted them to be real, he knew that much, and he figured if he left them alone long enough, they’d be real eventually. If they had time before a hangman’s noose caught one or both of them. And if they weren’t real already.

  Cage closed his eyes and cleared his throat, telling himself not to let his mind wander. He was surprised when Gabriel’s hand found his under the table, his fingers sliding over Cage’s and then closing around his palm. Cage’s head jerked up, and he looked at Gabriel with wide eyes, taken aback by the warmth that continued to spread through him at the simple touch.

  Gabriel was watching him, smiling almost serenely. He winked when Cage met his eyes. Cage wondered about the expression on his face. He frowned, but Gabriel just squeezed his hand and continued to hold it under the table. Cage got the message. Soon, Gabriel was saying.

  Cage nodded and sat back in his seat. He’d never been an edgy person or a worrier, but if he chose to be any sort of companion to Gabriel Rose, he could see himself becoming a nervous wreck very quickly.

  He met Gabriel’s eyes again, and his lips twitched into a smile. It would probably be worth it.

  Dinner was surprisingly civil, very nearly enjoyable. Flynn found himself distracted much of the meal by worrying about Rose’s hands beneath the table, but he kept telling himself there was no way the man could have obtained a weapon, and if he had one, he would have used it by now.

  It wasn’t until the salon was beginning to fill up and they were leaving to get some fresh air before returning to their cabins that trouble presented itself. They had left the salon through one of the ornate doorways toward the bow that led out to the foredeck, enjoying the cool evening air that flowed over and around the deck.

  Flynn had just taken hold of Rose’s elbow to make certain he didn’t lose him in the crowd when Wash stopped him, pulling them over to the side, out of the way of the diners coming and going. “What say we give them some more time to themselves?” he asked Flynn, his voice a bare whisper. Rose and Cage stood just steps away, both their heads bowed as they tried to appear like they weren’t eavesdropping.

  “Time alone?” Flynn asked incredulously. “You mean like before, when they tried to escape?”

  “Where are they gonna go?” Wash posed, his voice even. “What’s the harm in clearing one of the cabins and letting them have an hour or two?”

  Flynn closed his eyes and shook his head, not even able to fathom what Wash was thinking.

  “Put yourself in their shoes a minute,” Wash urged, but Flynn continued to shake his head.

  “Our responsibility is to get them to New Orleans for trial, not to make sure they’re happy when they get there. You know what they’d do with those two hours, and I for one do not plan to sit in a hallway and guard a cabin while that goes on.”

  “Why not?”

  “Wash, really!”

  “Dusty Rose!” a voice shouted suddenly from behind them.

  Flynn whirled and saw a man standing near the outer railing of the boat, the same man who had bumped into Rose before dinner. His coat was pushed back over his low-slung holster and his legs were spread slightly apart. There was no mistaking that stance, nor the challenge he had called. Every greenhorn and tin star in the country thought a gun battle went down like Hickok and Tutt in the town square in ’65. But calling a man out like that was a good way to get killed, not famous. Flynn’s heart skipped a beat and his breath caught as the world slowed around him.

  Rose faced the man, his hand going to his hip instinctively. Flynn saw the color drain from Rose’s face as he remembered too late that he was unarmed. The man who had addressed him smirked slowly, and drew his gun.

  Flynn went for his own pistol even as Rose ducked and turned, reaching for the gun at Flynn’s other hip. A shot sounded before Flynn could even clear his gun, and he watched in confused relief as the stranger staggered back and dropped his six-shooter to the planks of the deck. He hit his knees as he stared at Flynn and the others in disbelief, holding his ruined and bleeding right forearm to his chest.

  Flynn realized that his heart was racing and he was gaping. He had never seen anyone that fast in his life. The fact that the shooter hadn’t even been armed made the feat that much more impressive.

  Rose stood just in front of him, looking at the bleeding man with much the same shock that Flynn felt. They both stared at Cage, who was calmly holding Wash’s smoking gun in his hand.

  Cage lowered the weapon, spinning it around his forefinger and thumb as if it were second nature. He then flipped it and slid it back into Wash’s holster like he hoped no one would notice the action if it were done quickly enough.

  The three of them gawked at him.

  “I’ll be damned,” Wash finally breathed. He r
eplaced the gun he had drawn from his other holster without taking his eyes off Cage.

  Cage cleared his throat and looked at the man he had shot, seemingly without remorse, as the world returned to its rightful speed and women began swooning around them.

  “That’s got to be one of the fastest draws I’ve ever seen,” Gabriel was saying as the marshals ushered them hastily back to their cabin. His eyes shone excitedly, and he sounded like a small child nagging his father for another piece of candy. “Marshal, give him your belt, let him do it again!”

  Cage blushed deeply and ducked into their cabin with relief, going to the far wall and keeping his head bowed. He held his hands in front of him, waiting for the chains to be clapped back on. Now that the marshals knew he could handle iron, they’d be sure to restrain him heavily just like they were Gabriel.

  Flynn shoved Gabriel into the room and slammed the door behind them. Cage glanced up, nerves jostling. Wash was staring at him with his mouth still ajar, and Gabriel was grinning delightedly. Flynn glared at Gabriel like he might hit him just to have something to do with himself.

  “You saved my life,” Gabriel said to Cage with a grin that seemed permanent now. He took a step closer, but Wash automatically reached out and halted his progress without taking his eyes off Cage. “I’ve only ever seen a few men who could handle a gun like that,” Gabriel continued in a soft, rushed voice, almost eager as he edged closer despite Wash’s hand across his chest. “Who are you, really? A man doesn’t handle iron like that without being known.”

  Cage swallowed and shook his head. He pointed to his own chest and shrugged.

  “You’re just you,” Gabriel murmured, sounding an odd mixture of amused, impressed, and worried now.

  Cage nodded, his throat aching oddly as he met Gabriel’s eyes. No matter what he tried to say, Gabriel always seemed to understand. It was just one more reason Gabriel was swiftly becoming important to him. Important enough to give away his own secrets for him—like the fact that he could handle a gun like few men could.

  Gabriel moved as Wash’s arm dropped away from his chest, and he stood in front of Cage, head tilted back as he searched Cage’s eyes and grinned. His eyes glinted, like he knew what Cage was thinking

  “All right, break it up,” Flynn said, though he still sounded more shocked than anything else.

  Gabriel’s smile softened. “Thank you, Cage,” he whispered.

  Cage’s lips parted in surprise, and Gabriel kissed him before he could react further.

  Behind him, Wash cleared his throat and laughed. Cage saw the marshal glance away as Gabriel backed up. Flynn’s jaw had dropped, and he looked slightly scandalized. He turned bright red and stepped forward to take Gabriel’s arm and move him away.

  “Enough of that.”

  “What’s the harm in it?” Wash asked with a grin that matched Gabriel’s. “That was some mighty fine shooting. Let him get his reward.”

  “I don’t give a Continental what sorta shooting it was! Anyone can handle a gun like that ain’t gonna be let loose to do as he pleases under my watch. That goes for you too!” Flynn snapped as he rounded on Gabriel and wagged a finger in his face before turning back to Wash. “We got to keep them separated.”

  “Flynn, he’s not dangerous. He reacted, same as you and me. He just did it a heck of a lot faster,” Wash said wryly as he winked at Cage.

  Cage felt himself blush again and cleared his throat uncomfortably. He hadn’t handled a gun in months. He was no longer accustomed to the attention the skill brought.

  “You drew across your body,” Gabriel said to him, seemingly ignoring the two marshals.

  Cage met Gabriel’s eyes and swallowed with difficulty.

  “You wear your guns backward?” Gabriel asked him.

  Cage gave a short, jerky nod in answer, though he didn’t want to answer at all.

  “Means you spent time around the border, yeah? Texas, maybe? New Mexico?” Gabriel guessed.

  Cage blinked rapidly and looked away, unable to answer and unable to look into Gabriel’s eyes and lie, even if the lie was only a shake of his head. His gaze darted back to Gabriel to find the man watching him. He was no longer smiling. His brow was furrowed as he stared at Cage. Cage could practically see his mental gears turning. He held his breath, waiting for Gabriel’s sharp mind to make a decision with the new information he’d gleaned.

  Then Gabriel winked at him suddenly, the corner of his mouth twitching into a brief smirk before he schooled his face into seriousness once more. Cage stared at him in confusion. He didn’t understand the man at all. He seemed to jump from emotion to emotion like a tumbleweed in a dust storm, and Cage couldn’t keep up. He was relieved by Gabriel’s easy acceptance, all the same.

  When he turned his attention back to the two marshals, it seemed that Wash had won a concession. Flynn was red-faced and clearly trying to keep his temper under control.

  “I’m going to go and see what’s what,” Flynn told them all, obviously flustered and doubly embarrassed over the fact that he was.

  He headed out of the cabin before Wash could comment. The marshal huffed and then turned to Cage as soon as the door was shut.

  “Color me impressed, son,” he said with a smile.

  Cage’s face flushed again but he nodded in acknowledgment. He glanced at Gabriel almost pleadingly.

  The marshal looked between them and tried to hide his smirk. “I’m going to go . . . stand out in the hallway for a minute. Just to catch some air,” he announced, then he slipped out of the cabin and left them alone.

  Cage stared at the door in shock. After the morning’s adventures with Gabriel’s escape attempt, he couldn’t imagine what Wash was thinking.

  “A trusting soul, isn’t he?” Gabriel murmured as he stood examining Cage. “Odd quality for a man in his line of work.”

  Cage nodded almost imperceptibly and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Gabriel took a few steps closer until he was standing within reach once more. Cage raised his hand until his fingertips rested against Gabriel’s cheekbone, and he slid them across it, tracing down Gabriel’s jaw.

  Gabriel grinned. Then he moved even closer. Cage’s hair had come loose from its leather string as they’d been hustling to get back to the cabin, and Gabriel ran his hand through it. He pushed it back, off Cage’s face, his fingers trailing down Cage’s ear. His eyes didn’t leave Cage’s.

  “Where’d you learn to shoot like that?” he asked in a whisper.

  Cage pressed his lips tightly together. They both knew he couldn’t truly answer, and they both knew deep down he didn’t want to answer. He slid his hand around the back of Gabriel’s neck and tugged him closer, his heart racing as he took liberties he had not dared take with someone in almost a year.

  Their eyes still locked, Cage gave into the urge and kissed him. He pulled Gabriel to him and wrapped his other arm around his body, holding him and bending him backward with the force of the sudden motion. His hand tightened on the side of Gabriel’s neck, his thumb digging under Gabriel’s chin as he tilted his head up and kissed him hungrily.

  Gabriel didn’t struggle against the rough treatment, merely moved with it and moaned into Cage’s mouth. He held Cage by his upper arms, fingers clutching at Cage’s new jacket.

  Cage turned him and pushed him against the wall, and Gabriel’s hands dragged up into his hair again. The kiss was a tinge desperate, but Cage didn’t care. Even as Gabriel tried to speak, Cage delved into more kisses. Harder kisses. Biting kisses that smothered the attempts.

  For the second time since meeting him, Cage found that he wanted to say something to Gabriel. It was almost a physical need, one that mingled with the other physical needs Gabriel had stirred in him. He couldn’t speak, though, and so he merely kissed Gabriel with all the pent-up sentiments he had been harboring. Oh, how he wished the marshals would really give them those few hours alone.

  “It’s okay,” Gabriel finally managed to murmur into the kiss. He caress
ed Cage’s neck and then wrapped him up in a hug.

  Cage relaxed his grip and licked his own lips as he rested his forehead against Gabriel’s temple. They stood together in the intimate embrace, Cage desperately wishing for more and trying to decide how he could let Gabriel know what he was thinking.

  “It’s okay,” Gabriel repeated, his voice low and confident. He gave a little laugh. “I talk enough for the both of us.”

  Cage smiled and released a slow breath. He let his hand slide down the side of Gabriel’s neck to his shoulder as they put some distance between their bodies. There was too much temptation here for them to remain as they’d been, and Cage knew Wash wouldn’t give them long. He heard Flynn’s voice outside the door, demanding to know what Wash was doing out in the hallway.

  His heart was still racing as he looked into Gabriel’s eyes.

  Gabriel, too, seemed flustered. His cheeks were flushed and his dark eyes shone in the low light. He was grinning, obviously having fallen victim to the same physical desires Cage was now battling. Cage enjoyed the idea that he had done that to the normally imperturbable man. He enjoyed a lot of things about what he had just done. So he went ahead and did it again, grabbing Gabriel and pressing him into the wall to steal more kisses.

  “I’m not going to have this fight again,” Wash said as Flynn glowered at him.

  Flynn recognized his tone of voice as one that meant the end of an argument. He took a step toward him anyway and pointed at the closed door to the cabin.

  “They are dangerous men, Wash. You’ve been doing this long enough to know what a dangerous man who’s cornered is capable of!”

  “And you’re well aware what I’m capable of,” Wash snarled back at him, his green eyes flashing. “You want to keep treating me like a child, you can step off at the next stop and find your own damn way back to Lincoln. Hell, you can step off now, for all I care. I ain’t yours to protect, understand?”

  Flynn staggered back and stared at him as if he’d been slapped. The words cut deep, and Flynn didn’t want to examine why. His jaw tightened, and he reached up and banged on the door without looking away from Wash. “Rose!”