Page 31 of The Bastard Heir
Then that image was replaced with one of how she’d looked last night in the candlelight of his bedroom when he’d kissed her. The dark pink of her nipple under the pale, wet cotton of her nightgown, her luminous eyes as she’d stared up at him, the pink glow in her cheeks. He could almost smell the lavender from her body. His palms tingled at the memory of her soft skin beneath them. It would’ve been so easy to peel off her gown and run his hands all over her silky body. He’d wanted to dip his tongue between her legs and taste her desire for him. Then he would’ve taken her.
If he had the luxury of freedom, he would claim her as his.
Castillo took in a deep breath, letting it expand his chest, filling him up with hope and possibilities, before he let it out and the weight of his life settled over him again, indifferent to his musings. She had a life in Boston, and his life was nowhere near Boston. Even without the hacienda, he belonged out here in the wide open spaces, not in the city. She needed to be far away from him where he couldn’t hurt her.
He shook his head to clear it, but he couldn’t help wondering what she was up to today and how she felt about what had happened between them. He’d grabbed a quick breakfast before the sun came up, but he missed taking breakfast with her.
Johnson quickened his pace, catching Castillo’s attention. Retrieving the field glasses, Castillo held them up and saw some movement about a mile ahead at the tree line. It wasn’t a very dense copse of trees, so after a moment he was able to make out a man on horseback. He raised the lenses to the hill behind the trees and caught the tail end of a horse skirting around behind it. That’s probably where Derringer was camped, out of view of the road but close enough to keep watch. The only problem was that Castillo had no idea how many men Derringer had with him.
Castillo quickened his own pace to catch up with Hunter. But before he could, Johnson yelled out a warning to Derringer. “Son of a bitch,” Castillo muttered and put the binoculars away so he could draw his gun.
The first gunshot came out of nowhere and slammed into Johnson’s chest, unseating him so that he landed spread-eagled on his back in the dirt. He lay there unmoving. A figure crested the rise just ahead, and Castillo knew that Derringer’s man had pulled the trigger. Another one came over the hill to the east and fired in Zane’s direction. Castillo wasn’t close enough to see if he’d found his mark, but figured he hadn’t when the man narrowly missed getting hit by the return fire. Castillo turned his attention to the man who’d shot Johnson and pulled the trigger.The man lurched backward, pulling up on the reins of his horse. He wasn’t dead, but he turned around and moved out of sight.
And then it was chaos. Hunter darted from the trees to cross the road and get to a closer and better position, but he drew gunfire, revealing the positions of two other unknown attackers. Castillo was able to take out one, but the other had set himself up behind a rocky embankment. His heart pumping, Castillo followed Hunter and disappeared into the trees where the others were waiting for him. None of them had been hit, but the gunfire kept coming, breaking off bits of the cottonwood trees around them. This wasn’t somewhere they could ride out the fight indefinitely.
“We have to get around the hill to that camp,” Castillo said. “I saw a man heading over in that direction.” He pointed east around the hill, where he’d seen the horse going.
Zane nodded.
Another bullet ripped into a branch, filling the air with the sharp smell of green wood and gun smoke. “We’ve gotta get out of here,” Hunter said, aiming and firing in the general direction of the gunfire.
More shots echoed from the valley behind the hill and Castillo prayed that it was the two men from the ranch they’d brought with them. His prayer was confirmed when one of them let out a whoop of victory. From the pitiful cover of the cottonwood trees, Zane, Hunter and Castillo fired on the attackers still out there. One of them went down, but there was still the man behind the embankment of rock.
“I’m going around that embankment. Keep shooting until I get there,” Castillo called. As long as Hunter and Zane were shooting, the man likely wouldn’t chance a return fire. It was a risk, but one that Castillo was willing to take to end this. Even in the midst of this madness, he thought of Carolina and was glad he’d stopped when he did last night.
The two men from the ranch were just riding out behind a trail of dust that headed east, probably Derringer attempting escape. Castillo longed to follow them, but had to take out the man behind the embankment first so that Hunter and Zane wouldn’t be vulnerable. He circled around, using the top of the hill as cover, until he’d managed to work himself so that he could see the man’s shoulder. Dismounting, he edged around until he could see a dark beard.
It wasn’t Derringer, but it could be Bennett. Very much wanting to keep him alive for questioning, Castillo raised his gun and aimed for Bennett’s shoulder. Something must’ve tipped him off; at the last moment he turned just enough that the bullet missed him and fired back. Pain exploded in Castillo’s shoulder, as if someone had lanced him with a hot poker. He didn’t have time to acknowledge it as he ran forward and fired again, but this time his bullet skimmed off the rock. He was close enough to duck down beside the embankment for cover and could hear Bennett’s heavy breathing on the other side.
“Give up, Bennett. We’ve already taken out the others. It’s only a matter of time for you.”
“You think this is getting you any closer to my father?”
“It’s taking down a few barriers. As I said on the train, I don’t want or need you dead. I just want Derringer. Give up and I’ll let you walk.”
Bennett laughed. “You think I’ll give up my father and walk away?”
Castillo had hoped but had known all along the likelihood that he’d have to kill Bennett. “That’s your choice, Bennett. If you want to keep up the fight, then that’s on you, but he’ll pay for what he did.”
Bennett laughed again, and Castillo couldn’t help but wonder what the hell the man had to be so jolly about. Something wasmissing in this scenario, but Castillo couldn’t figure out what it was.
Since he was keeping Bennett occupied, Hunter and Zane were slowly making their way to the back side of the embankment. It’d only be a matter of minutes before they had Bennett surrounded. Castillo figured he’d get him to talk as much as he could while they waited.
“You still don’t know who my father is, do you?” Bennett taunted.
Something about that made Castillo’s blood run cold. It had occurred to him that Buck Derringer wasn’t the man’s real name, and after killing Castillo’s grandfather, he’d simply gone back to assuming his old identity. Was he missing something? “What do you mean?”
“Just you wait, Reyes. Soon enough everyone here will know who you really are. How do you think Papa Jameson will feel when he realizes his firstborn is a notorious outlaw?”
Castillo didn’t particularly care how Tanner felt about anything, but he didn’t want things to get difficult for Hunter and Emmy. If it was revealed that Hunter had been involved with the gang, he could go to jail for a long, long time…or even worse. Gritting his teeth, Castillo tightened his grip on his gun, and said, “No one would believe you.”
“Not me, hombre. You’re right, no one would believe me.”
“What in hell are you talking about, Bennett?” Then it hit him, and he realized why the man was talking crazy and laughing like he wasn’t in the middle of a shootout. “You’ve been shot.”
Bennett laughed again, and this time it was followed by a moan. Castillo darted around the rock and trained his gun on the man. Bennett fired, but the shot wasn’t even aimed and went wide. Bennett’s left forearm was bloody where it pressed against his belly. It looked like he’d been shot in the arm, but whenBennett shifted, blood poured from a wound in his gut. It flowed so fast that he only had a few minutes before he’d bleed out.
“Where’s Derringer hiding?”
