She turned the fish in the pan, tipping to get the oils so she could spoon them over the sweet flesh a few times.

  “We’ve talked about this.”

  “No we haven’t. You’d said I was better off here than traveling out there. I want to see the world. I want to know what it’s like outside these walls. I’ve lived here my entire life. I’ve never been further than half a day’s walk from Silver Cliffs. You’ve been up and down the Highway. You’ve seen how people live, you’ve eaten what they eat. You’ve seen how they dress. I know enough to know it’s not all how we are here. I know people do things differently in other places. I want that. I want to see it.”

  “You want to leave here where the walls keep you safe from the brigands?” His gaze seemed to burn through her as she stirred the rice, fluffing it and putting it into a bowl she placed on the table.

  “You’re alive. The people you travel with are alive. The people who drive the transports are alive. Don’t patronize me.”

  “I’m not patronizing you. I’m telling you it’s safe here. You’re better off here. The world outside will change you. I don’t want that. Can’t you see?”

  “Why is it about what you want anyway? What about what I want?”

  “And then what? Hm? You leave here to do what? Go where? With who?”

  She rolled her eyes and put the bread, still warm from the oven, on the table. “Please pour us some juice.”

  He sighed, getting up to do so.

  “With you, of course. Trinity and Marcus drive together.”

  “They’re lawmen. You’re a shopkeeper.”

  That hurt. He was right, of course, which didn’t really negate the hurt.

  “If you don’t want me along, just say so.”

  He started to speak but a knock on the door interrupted them both. “Don’t think I can’t see the relief on your face. This isn’t over.”

  He walked past her, pausing to give her a hard, quick kiss before he moved to the door, letting Jackson in.

  “Trackers just came back. Brigands are about two miles down. They’re sticking close to the river. But they’re headed this way.”

  “I’ll make this portable.” She moved to sandwich the fish in the center of the crusty roll along with some of the pickle. “Jackson, would you like one?” She held up the bread after she’d wrapped it and placed it on Loyal’s empty plate.

  “Aye, that would be mighty fine, Verity. Much appreciated.”

  His eyes took her in, pausing at her mouth and then shifting over to Loyal briefly.

  Loyal disappeared into his room and came back out with a leather roll, which he unfurled on the tabletop. He slid into an overvest, one she knew would repel bullets and blades. His gaze had gone flat and hard, his mouth set in a line.

  She handed a sandwich to Jackson and he ate it as he watched Loyal take the weapons in the roll and strap them on.

  Blades, guns, he tucked a few magazines for his weapons in a pocket of his trousers.

  “I need to get to my people. Take the town up from general alert to full alert. I want everything locked down.”

  Jackson nodded as he ate. “Done. I’ll send runners out.” He turned to Verity. “Thank you for the dinner. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was.” He smiled, reaching out to brush some crumbs from her skirt. “You lock down too. Are you going to head to your sister’s?”

  She shook her head. “No. James let you all use the house the last time we had an incursion. He sure told the story often enough. You can see plenty from the attic and the roof.” She took a key from a nearby drawer. “This unlocks the store and the stairs. Consider this my permission to use the roof and attic for your men as well.”

  “Don’t go doing anything stupid, you hear me, Verity?” He took her hands. “You see them coming and you get yourself locked in your cellar. I know you have an exit from there to the pasture out back. You get gone if you need to.”

  She nodded. “I have supplies hidden out there. I’ll be fine.” He paused as if he were going to speak, but Loyal cleared his throat as he kept arming himself, though he kept his gaze down on what he was doing.

  “I’ll check in on you later.” Jackson headed to the door and looked to Loyal before leaving. “I’ll see you at the garrison shortly.”

  And was gone.

  She moved to Loyal, bending to tie the laces on his boots. He hauled her to her feet when she’d finished. His gaze severe, hard. “You will remain here in this house, do you understand me? Green flare if you need to evacuate. You see two greens and you get that pretty little ass downstairs and into that cellar. Use the full locks and the big heavy door. You get yourself gone. I’ll find you when it’s safe.”

  “I’m not stupid. I won’t stay if we get overrun.”

  “Nay, not stupid. But passionate.” He sighed. “They will . . . they will savage every female in this garrison if they catch them. I don’t want that to happen to you. Or to anyone here.” He amended, but it was late enough that she knew he cared about her in a way he wasn’t sure how to process. Which was good as she felt quite the same.

  “I have no desire to be savaged. Though, should a certain lawman want to pillage?” She raised her brow and smiled. He shook his head.

  “You’re a handful, Verity Coleman.”

  “I am. Don’t forget it.”

  He hauled her against him, the blades, though sheathed, pressing into her flesh through her clothes. A reminder of what else he was. It thrilled her though she knew it was dangerous.

  His kiss wasn’t safe. It was hard and fast, a gnash of teeth, the nip of her bottom lip. He branded her with that kiss. “Your lips are still swollen from my cock,” he spoke against her mouth at last. “Haldeman noticed that.”

  “Yes.” She tried not to pant, but it was difficult.

  “Mine.” He kissed her hard one last time and stepped back. “Watch out the window. Keep the lights off. Lock this place down and do not come out unless you get the signal or are escorted by one of us or Haldeman’s men. Promise.”

  She nodded.

  He grabbed two rifles and headed out. She went down, checked the locks on the windows and pulled the heavy plates down, covering the doors and windows. She slid the bolts and locks into place and headed back upstairs, doing the same on the main door from the back stairs. She’d keep the exit down the back stairs, up to the attic, down to the cellar and her tunnel to escape locked, but accessible. The lights went off all over town as the runners spread out. Shutters clanked shut, locks clicked out through the night.

  She only hoped they were ready to repel the assault she knew in her bones was coming.

  * * *

  He gathered his team, who’d already been on alert and were all ready.

  “They had a group of about twenty that I could see.” Indigo indicated a map on the table nearby and they moved over.

  Haldeman and several of his men were there as well, watching, ready for orders. In a situation like this one, Loyal would be the commanding officer.

  “They were here.” Indigo pointed.

  “There’s a trail just ahead.” Haldeman drew a line from the river toward the garrison. “It would take them around the bridge, but they’d still have to cross the river. Right now it’s swollen with melting snowpack. Several feet above the normal levels. And brutally cold. Too cold to swim across and live.”

  “Other than the main bridge, where else can they cross safely?”

  “Nearer the pass.” Haldeman pointed miles east of the garrison, higher up in the mountains. “There’s a bridge up that way. They can cross there. Even if they ran it would take them an extra day, day and a half. The climb is brutal. Maybe it’ll discourage them.”

  “Depends on the why of this attack.” Stace looked over the map. “I can get to the bridge up on the pass. Blow it so they can’t cross.”

  “What do you mean depends on the why?” One of Haldeman’s men stood forward.

  Trinity shrugged. “You can’t count on the brigands to do things how you might. They don’t think like we do. If they’re hungry or angry at having to walk extra they may not give up like you or I might. Go pick an easier target. No, they might figure the extra work is worth whatever you got in these walls. Or they may be so mad that they see this as revenge for making them work so hard. Or maybe they’re starving and they’ll come no matter what. They don’t think like regular folk is what I’m saying. They’re brigands. Closer to animal than people at times, ’specially times like these when they’re on a hunt.”

  Trinity knew them well. Her family had been taken by them. She’d been raised as a camp slave for several years until she’d escaped. Just ten years old, she’d leapt off a moving brigand vehicle and into the road in the path of a lawman’s escort. It was lucky they hadn’t shot her but stopped to help. Against regulations to do such things, but it had saved her life and she’d been with the lawmen ever since.

  “I’m going to advise you let Stace blow that bridge.”

  “It’s a way for us to hunt without having to go all the way around.”

  “I understand that. But if you can slow down a gang of brigands that’s going to be better than having to deal with rebuilding it when it’s warmer. You see my meaning? We may not be here the next time. You blow that bridge and they have no other choice but to come over the main bridge. It cuts down their avenue of attack. Makes it manageable.”

  Haldeman sent a hand through his hair and then nodded. “Go on. Tell me what you need and how many you want to come with you.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  He shuffled back up the hill some hours later. He’d been up for far longer than he should have been and Indigo, his second, had shoved him out the door with orders to get some kip and a meal before he came back.

  It was the calm before the storm. They’d prepared all they could for the time being. The team had left to destroy the bridge at the upper river with several of the garrison’s best trackers so he had every reason to believe they’d finish the job and likely be back at the garrison before the brigands had even reached that far.

  His people would also do a survey of the river to be sure there were no weak spots to get across. They could use boats to get across, but the current was fast as well as cold. And the brigands were many things, but sophisticated they weren’t.

  There was nothing to do at that point but rest while they could so he’d nodded and left.

  The shutters were locked all over town, though some were out and about doing necessary business. But the mercantile was closed, he was pleased to see.

  He went around back, unlocking the large blast doors covering the entrance and sliding them back into place when he’d finished.

  She was curled in a chair near a shuttered window. He smiled at the juxtaposition of her there, small, the tumble of hair making her seem even smaller, and the rifles at each window.

  He’d only gotten three steps into the room before she awoke.

  “News?” She stood, stretching, and before he could think to say anything he was on her, his mouth on hers, his hands pulling her close. He needed that contact in a way that should have scared him. Most likely would later.

  After.

  He shoved her hair back over her shoulder one handed and slid the robe she’d been wearing off her shoulders, leaving her in a long nightdress that buttoned all the way up the front. He couldn’t wait. Didn’t want to wait. He grabbed either side and tugged hard, the material parting on the sound of buttons flying.

  She gasped and he paused, waiting for rebuke, but got none. Instead she moaned, arching into his touch as he slid covetous hands over her bare skin. He’d had this well of need for her that appeared bottomless. And since the first kiss, he’d been unable to resist her.

  She offered herself to him and he had no ability to turn away.

  Pale and beautiful in the dim light that made its way through the shutters, he took her in as she stood, bare, the remains of her clothing pooled at her feet.

  He fell to his knees. “I believe, before we were so unfortunately interrupted by brigand talk, I had plans for you.” He leaned in to kiss her belly, below her navel. “For

  She shivered, sliding her fingers through his hair.

  It was cool in the house and he noted the gooseflesh. “Wait for me there.” He pointed at the settee, before he moved to the woodstove and built the fire within up. The air began to warm a little and he moved back to where she sat, watching him without a word.

  He took her mouth, still on his knees. She wrapped her legs around his body, holding him close.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured, kissing down her neck to her breasts, licking and biting her nipples until she made a whimper deep in her throat. “I’ve been thinking about the way you taste all night.”

  * * *

  He’d come in looking haunted.

  Long and lean, his hair close cropped so she could see the lines of his face. The lips, currently cruising down her ribcage, the blades of his cheekbones, the blue-gray eyes that failed to miss anything. He’d come in, loaded down, she knew, with the worries and fears of everyone in Silver Cliffs.

  He’d stood looking at her as she’d shaken off her fitful sleep and managed to stand, moving to him as if he drew her by some magic.

  But it wasn’t magic, it was him. Her heart beat for him. Had for years now, she realized.

  Big, strong hands slid down her torso and to her hips. He continued to kiss down her body until he got to her pussy and she shivered. Not from cold. From the sheer delight she knew she was about to enjoy.

  “Sit back.”

  She did, obeying, watching down her body as he pushed her thighs open and spread her with his thumbs.

  The room had warmed since he’d built the fire up, but his hands on her built the fire in her belly. His gaze found hers, locked as he kissed her knee and then up her thigh. He kissed her there, the heart of her, like it was her mouth. Fascinated, she kept watch, seeing his tongue lap, flick, taste her in such an intimate way it nearly sliced through her. No one had been this close to her and he reveled in it. She reveled in the way he touched her. Like he couldn’t get enough.

  This man of few words but for the occasional whispered dirty ones between them in the dim. He was thrilling. Exciting. Fearsome and not just because he was a walking weapon. But because he made her want things she knew she shouldn’t. And did anyway.

  Climax curled her toes, swept up her calves and thighs and burst over her until she indeed had to scream out, her face in a pillow from the settee should anyone be out on the street.

  He stood. “Face the back of the settee. On your knees. Brace yourself with your hands.”

  Still shaking from orgasm, she rose up and did as he’d said, the thrill of whatever he’d planned washing through her. He moved behind her, the heat of his body against hers after he’d gotten rid of his trousers.

  The head of his cock brushed against her and slid in easily as he grunted. “So wet.”

  She pushed back against him, her face burning with a blush. But not of shame. He never made her feel that for what they did together.

  He set a pace, fast, deep. She held on as the settee moved just a little bit as he thrust.

  “Want of you has set me on fire,” he murmured against the skin of her shoulder. “This is what I think about. Your sweet, hot, wet cunt wrapped around my cock like a fist.”

  She stuttered a breath, curving her back to take him deeper.

  Normally a chatterer, she found herself stunned silent by the things he said when it was just them, when it was this. Skin to skin, his body in hers. His hands caressing every part of her he could reach.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Mine,” he whispered back, and she wanted to laugh. Yes, yes she was.

  Instead she nodded quickly. “Yours.”

  That seemed to satisfy him for a time as he continued to thrust. His teeth dug into the flesh of her shoulder as he groaned. The pain silvered into something else, something pleasurable as she felt the jerk of his cock deep within her, as she knew she made him feel this way. Her.

  She smiled against the fabric of the settee, the nub of it against her inflamed skin.

  “Let us nap for a time.” He stood back and picked her up, walking her not into his room, but hers. He pulled the blankets back and she moved over, giving him room to follow. Which he did.

  She moved into the hollow where his arm met his body, resting her head there. His arms surrounded her and she closed her eyes. Satisfied and unafraid.

  * * *

  He awoke to the scent of coffee and fried meat.

  She spoke in low tones to someone, which is what brought him to his feet and into his pants. He had nowhere to come out but through her bedroom door and realized he wanted to be seen. Wanted whoever it was to know she was his.

  He froze, his hand on the knob. Stupid. Stupid to think in those terms. But there it was. He still tasted her, smelled her on his skin and he wasn’t ready to give that up. Wasn’t ready to give her up.

  He’d lived through a lot. Survived the loss of his family, years on the Highway. Battles. He brushed a hand over his belly, against the ridges of the scars he bore from a nasty ambush that nearly ended with his death.

  He’d driven up the Highway, seen the silvery gray cliffs rising up to the east and his heart had eased. Had eased because he knew he’d be seeing her soon. Knew he’d be in her parlor, listening to her voice as she told him about all the silly goings on in Silver Cliffs. Eating the meals she’d created. Sleeping with such beauty and perfection only on the other side of the wall and it had been enough.

  Barely enough, but enough.

  But it wasn’t anymore. Now that he’d loosed the tide of desire that had lay within him for so long there was no going back. He couldn’t drive back through those gates and not come to her. Not seek the solace of her lips, the sweetness of her touch.

  He was sure his shirt was tucked in before he opened the door to find Indigo leaning against a counter in the kitchen, watching her as she cooked.