followed, all mounted on equally impressive horse flesh and all equally in control. Zach pulled the stallion to a halt at the edge of the yard. With a tip of his black hat, he acknowledged those gathered. In a slow yet somehow unified meander, his men flanked him. They were an impressive sight.
“We should not wait much longer,” Zach called. “We must cover a lot of trail before dark.”
Acknowledging the comment with a lift of her hand, Tia encompassed them all in a look. When they were growing up, that look had had the power to rein in their wildness. Now it had the power to convey conviction. “We’re not losing another baby. Not here or at Rancho Montoya.”
Ed took her hand and raised it to his lips. “We’re not losing you, either.”
“I’ll be safe, my husband. I feel it.” She stroked his cheek. “You and my boys should not worry. I am not so easily lost.”
“I’d feel better if you’d wait so more of your ‘boys’ could be going with you,” Caine grumbled.
“I know, but...”
“Ah, senora...” Zach came forward, spurs jangling, looking as cocky as always in his black pants, black shirt and black hat adorned with dark turquoise around the brim. “My men and I are not Hell’s Eight, but we are of the Montoya and we have saved Hell’s Eights’ behinds before. You will arrive safely.”
“One time,” Caine muttered from where he was tying down the canvas on one side of the flatbed. “One time they save the day and we never hear the end of it.”
Zach flashed a rare grin. “It is relevant.”
“And we are very grateful,” Tucker drawled with a sharp look at Caine.
That was the truth. Without the Montoya vaqueros, Sam would not have his Bella. Nor Tracker his Ari. And Desi’s promise, which had started it all, to find her stolen twin and dance together once again in a field of daisies would have gone unfulfilled. He shook his head and stroked Chico’s neck. From the day Hell’s Eight had been hired to find the “runaway” Desi, all of their lives’ paths had taken a pivot from wild to civilized. Caine said because it was time. Tia said because God had plans for them beyond an early demise. And Luke. Luke just didn’t know who was making plans for whom. He only knew he wasn’t fitting the mold.
“It is important you are reminded that not all that is good is Tejano,” Zach added.
“Si,” Tia said, patting Caine’s hand this time. “This is true.” She looked over at him. “So stop worrying, Luke. Bella needs me. Sam needs me. The baby needs me.”
Luke tried one more time. “The baby isn’t here yet.”
She looked at him from under her brows. “For this reason, Sam sent for me.”
Luke gave another tug at the cinch. Chico snorted his displeasure, emphasizing it with a stomp of his hoof. “Yeah, I know.”
“That to the horse or Tia?” Tucker asked.
“Shut up, Tucker.”
Luke dropped the stirrup back into place before addressing Tia. “I’m not exactly sure that Sam sent for you. That telegram could have been to keep you apprised.”
Tia clucked her tongue and pulled her scarf up over her hair. “Do not be silly.”
And that fast, Luke knew there was no point in talking further. He loved the small, plump woman from the tip of her bun to the soles of her pointy black boots. She was the anchor of Hell’s Eight and now she was leaving the sanctuary. He didn’t have to like it, but he would support her. “Then let’s go.”
“We can’t yet.”
“Why not?” he asked, preparing to mount.
Everyone went silent. The hairs on the back of his neck rose. From the barn came a rhythmic clanking. He knew that sound.
He looked around. No one would meet his gaze.
“Oh hell no.”
A broken-down nag came through the doors, walking like an old man felt, as if every step dragged its past along with the gaudily painted peddler’s wagon. Sitting in the seat, all delicious curves and annoying attitude, was Josie. She met his frown with a smile. The contents of the wagon clanked as it hit a rut.
Tia smiled. “We are ready.”
“Why did no one tell me Josie was invited along?” Luke asked.
Tia looked at Ed. Ed looked at Ace. Ace shrugged. “Jarl made a promise.”
And Hell’s Eight owed Jarl.
“I, for one, will be glad to have another woman on the journey,” Tia said.
“Well, I’m not.”
Another woman might be one thing, but Josie wasn’t just any woman. She was the thorn in his side. Trouble walking. A mass of contradictions. He ground his teeth to the rhythm of the wagon’s rattle as she approached. Hell, even her hair was contrary. Neither blond nor brown nor red, it was an ever-changing mix of all three, depending on the light. Right now it was red. A warning to anyone who’d care to harken. He opened his mouth. Caine cut him off.
“I wouldn’t even bother saying it.”
Luke turned around to glare at Caine. In many ways, he was the same hard man Luke had grown up with. In others, he was different. Caine had been sent by an unscrupulous bastard to retrieve Desi, and in true Caine form, had ended up keeping her. In Desi, Caine had found everything he’d been searching for. And that hungry, restless wolf inside had settled down.
“What exactly do you think I’m going to say?”
There was a smile in Caine’s gray eyes. “That if she goes, you won’t.”
The thought had crossed his mind. “It’s a thought.”
“It’s a bad thought. I need to know you’re there, Luke. Zach and his men, they’re good but they’re not Hell’s Eight. I can’t spare more than I have.”
Yet another change of the last few years. Hell’s Eight had once functioned as a unit. Almost as one man, one thought, but that had changed. Members had married. Settled down. It was as if each man had found the woman who completed him, anchored his restless ways.
“Hell’s Eight is changing.” Luke sighed.
“We’re bigger,” Caine countered.
“And more vulnerable,” Luke added, looking at Tia. Hell’s Eight had grown. More lives. More responsibilities.
Caine nodded. “I know the photographer irritates you.”
“She does.”
“Now, why is that?” Ace asked as the wagon came closer.
“She’s too flighty. It’s irritating.” That got a raised brow from Ed and a snort from Tia.
“So
