Delaney was thinking as calmly as he could. They had taken him utterly off guard; he was a complete fool not to have realized the possibility that Montgomery had hired a villain like Baron to ensure that the Indian, Chatca, had done his dirty work. He fastened his breeches and pulled his shirt over his head and tucked it into his pants. He picked up Chauncey’s skirt and blouse and very slowly walked over to her.
“Eh now!” Jasper screeched. “Nothin’ said about covering up the little honey!”
Delaney paid him no attention. He heard the click of the hammer, then Baron’s voice. “Naw, Jasper. It’s just a skirt and shirt. Nothin’, really.”
“Chauncey, listen to me,” Del said very quietly as he handed her the clothes. “I want you to stay silent. If you talk, you draw their attention.”
She raised wide, frightened eyes to his face. “What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know yet. Baron, well, he’s the type to gloat. The longer I can make him gloat over me, the better our chance.”
Delaney turned and said, “I suggest, gentlemen, that we leave my wife in peace so she can dress herself.”
“I wanna watch her!” Jasper said. “I wanna see those tits again.”
“There’ll be all the time you want for that, Jasper,” Baron said, his eyes narrowing with intense satisfaction on Delaney’s face. “Now, Del here knows all there is to know about being a gentleman. There’s a bucket of water outside. I’m thirsty. Come along, Jasper.” Baron waved the barrel of his gun toward Delaney, and he walked swiftly out of the shack. Baron paused a moment, saw Delaney’s rifle, and tucked it under his arm. He slung Delaney’s pistol and gunbelt over his shoulder. “You probably don’t know one end from the other, little honey, but why tempt fate?” He gave her a smile that made her grow utterly cold, and strode from the shack.
She was left alone. It seemed an eternity before Chauncey could make herself move. Her knuckles showed white from strain. Dress yourself, dammit! Within moments she was tucking in the blouse and straightening the skirt over her legs. Thoughts of her discussion with Delaney the previous evening about rape tumbled through her mind. Rape was nothing compared to what these men intended. And all because of Paul Montgomery. Delaney would die too, because of her.
Stop it! You’re acting like a dithering female!
Chauncey drew in a deep steadying breath and began to search the cabin. No weapon. She quickly bent over Delaney’s valise and tossed aside his clothes. She had no hope of finding a weapon, not really, and when she saw her pearl-handled derringer, she blinked, thinking it was an apparition. “Oh God,” she whispered to herself, “please let it be loaded.” It was. It was just where she’d left it the night Chatca had taken her. She slipped it quickly into one of the large tattered pockets of the skirt. Her heart was pounding. They’ll know. They’ll know!
She was standing still as a statue when the men returned to the cabin.
“You sit over there on the floor, Del, and keep yourself quiet,” Baron said. “You, little honey, Jasper and me are hungry. Whip us up some grub and coffee.”
“She doesn’t know how,” Delaney said. “As you can see, she was wounded in the Indian camp. I’ve taken care of her.”
Baron looked undecided for a moment, then shrugged. “Very well. Come here, girl. Your husband makes one wrong move, and you’ll have a bullet through your pretty head. You hear, Saxton?”
“I hear,” Delaney said. He saw Jasper move toward Chauncey from the corner of his eye, and said to Baron, “You seem to have pulled this off pretty well. Tell me, how did you get in contact with Montgomery?”
Chauncey watched Baron Jones straighten, pull back his shoulders, and preen. Jasper stopped in his tracks and watched his partner.
“Well, you see, Del, I know Hoolihan. Ah, surprised you, didn’t I? I watched Monk haul him around, Monk and those other scum you hired. But you see, Montgomery was in San Jose and I went to see him, told him you’d captured his man. He’s paying me a lot of money, Del, enough to set up my own gambling saloon. Right here close by in Nevada City, I think. Jasper here, well, he’ll make sure none of the miners leave the area with too much gold in their pockets.”
“You’ve really thought this all out, haven’t you, Baron?”
“Yes, indeed, Del. As for Montgomery, as soon as Jasper and I meet him in Nevada City, he’ll pay us and take himself back to England. You know something, though, I would like to know why he wants your wife dead and buried. He wouldn’t tell me nothin’.”
Delaney carefully set several mugs on the rough table and poured the steaming coffee. He’d thought to fling the hot liquid in their faces, but Jasper was hunkered down near Chauncey. He’d kill her before Delaney could get to him. Or put a bullet through him. Bide your time, he told himself over and over. Keep Baron talking.
“Actually,” Delaney said, arching a brow toward Baron, “it’s a tale that doesn’t make Montgomery look like much of a saint. He murdered my wife’s father and stole from him. After dangling my wife on his knee when she was little, he decided she’d learn the truth about him. He should probably remain here in the West. He’s a lawyer, you know, and he’d fit right in with the rest of the jackals.”
“That ain’t a pretty story at all,” Jasper observed.
“He tried to kill her before she left England, but she escaped injury. I suppose he was on one of the next ships over. He really doesn’t deserve to live.”
“Nope, ain’t pretty at all,” Jasper said again, shaking his head. “Why don’t you and I wipe him out, Baron?”
“Honor, my dear Jasper, honor among thieves, I believe the saying goes. Breaking a deal isn’t good for a man’s reputation, an’ things like that get around.”
Chauncey spoke up, her voice soft and shaking. “Did you know that he pretended to be my friend after my father’s supposed suicide? He even managed tears at my father’s funeral.”
“Well, ain’t that a kicker!” Jasper said in disgust.
“Now, now, Jasper,” Baron said, amused contempt in his voice, “the man’s smart. Even you should be able to appreciate that. Now, Del, you got anything to eat? I don’t like to work on an empty stomach.”