An Outlaw's Silence (manxman)(second story in The Crane Gang series)

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

Wyatt moaned as consciousness began to return to him. With that consciousness came pain. Pain in his head, his ribs, his stomach—his entire body.

Rocking and jostling indicated that he was in the back of a wagon and the lack of sunshine or breeze told him that the wagon as covered. Wyatt had no idea who the man had been to beat him unconscious and he also had no idea how he'd ended up in the back of a wagon.

His body protested each move the wagon made and Wyatt was tempted to simply give back in to the sleep that was struggling to reclaim him. Then he heard a whimper beside him that had his eyes flying open.

A woman was sitting in the corner wearing a dirty and tattered dress. Her dark hair was a mess upon her head and her knees were pulled into her chest. Wide brown eyes watched him fearfully from a bruised face.

Wyatt sat up slowly, glad for once that he did not have a voice as it prevented him from crying out in pain. It was obvious to Wyatt that the woman was part Indian and she was young—somewhere around his age if he had to guess.

Could it be....?

'Eleanor?'

The woman simply frowned and sank deeper into the corner. Wyatt knew she probably couldn't understand him and, of course, the bastards who had kidnapped him hadn't allowed him to bring his paper along.

Then Wyatt remembered the necklace that Zachariah had given him. Surely if Zachariah had treasured it the way he claimed, his sister must know about it. Maybe she'd even recognize it.

Reaching in his ripped and tattered shirt, Wyatt pulled the leather strap from within. He held up the mountain lion claws and the woman swallowed hard as she leaned forward.

'Zachariah.'

"My...my brother has a necklace like that one." Her brown eyes met his and instead of simply fear, Wyatt now saw confusion in them as well. "Do you know Zachariah?"

Wyatt nodded. He pointed to the necklace and them himself.

Eleanor's voice was quiet and soft. "My brother gave it to you?"

Again Wyatt nodded and he tucked the necklace back beneath his shirt. "How do you know my brother?" she asked.

Wyatt bit his lip and then winced when he realized it was swollen and split. Eleanor's brown eyes filled with tears. "You're with him, aren't you?" She looked up to the canvas top above them and a tear rolled down her cheek. "My poor brother. They took me to hurt him and now they have you.....His heart will be broken."

Wyatt shifted on the hard wagon floor as his heart ached for Zachariah. The man already carried so much guilt and blame on his broad shoulders—this was bound to only make that load heavier.

There were a hundred things that Wyatt would like to say to Eleanor. He had questions he wanted to ask. But she had no talent for reading lips, especially in the dim lantern light inside the wagon and Wyatt had no paper to write on. Once again his inability to speak was standing in his way.

Eleanor's eyes closed as she leaned her head back against the cloth behind her. "I'm sorry Clint has you now. I would say we'll both be dead very soon."

Wyatt refused to believe that. He wouldn't let Zachariah lose his sister. Wyatt couldn't let the man he loved—yes loved—go through that pain. Somehow Wyatt would save her and get her back with her brother where she belonged.

But beat all to hell with no weapons; he hadn't figured the how of it all just yet.

***

"Zachariah, stop. Let's be smart about this," Craig scolded, grabbing Zachariah by the arm and jerking him around to face him.

It was safe to say that the man had lost his damned mind. He'd been beating and questioning, (in that order), anyone in town he thought might have information about Clint. That included the so-called town Constable who would be whistling a nice little tune through his nose for a while.

So far they had learned that Clint was traveling with six well-armed men. He did have an young Indian woman with him who was kept out of sight. And he was on his way north to his brother's house.

Upon learning all of that, Zachariah's first instinct had been to pack up, ride hard and go after seven men with only Craig for help. But Craig figured that would be a good way to wind up dead.

"What would be the smart way to handle this?" Zachariah snarled. His gray eyes flashed and his scarred cheek twitched. Craig's best friend had fallen in love with a dangerous man.

Craig wasn't used to being the voice of reason but he held up his hand. "Let's send a wire to the gang. They can be here in a few days if they ride hard and then we'll have a few more bodies to go after Clint."

Zachariah shook his head. "That will take too long. Do you honestly want Wyatt with him for that long?"

Craig's chest ached as he shoved his hand through his blond hair. "Of course not. But I also don't want the two of us going up against seven men and being slaughtered. We have to be alive to save him."

"And what if Clint kills him?" Zachariah demanded, glaring at the rising sun. "What if, by the time your people get here, it's too late to save him?"

Craig sighed. "Wyatt can take care of himself pretty well. I know you know that by now." Zachariah's head dipped slightly. "And we have to believe that Clint took Wyatt to hurt you—just like he did your sister. We found out today that he's kept her alive so that means he'll do the same with Wyatt.

Zachariah let out a frustrated roar and slammed his already battered fist into the unforgiving wood of the livery stable.

Craig took that as a sign that he'd won. He patted the big man on the back. "I'll send that wire, Zachariah. We'll save them. I don't intend to lose my best friend."

A/N; hey y'all! I know the last two chapter have been a little short but I can update more often that way! Hopefully you won't mind chapters that are a little shorter since it means more frequent updates!