Free Caden's Vow by Sarah McCarty Page B

think I’m going to want you with that rifle up here on the
hill covering my ass in case I have to break out of there fast.”
    “So you’re using the excuse that I’m a better distance
shot.”
    “You’re always bragging on the skill. About time you proved
it.”
    “This isn’t much of a plan, you know.”
    Caden nodded. “We have to know if she’s there.”
    “True enough.”
    Ace reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a derringer.
Caden looked at him.
    “You been chewing on locoweed?”
    Ace handed the weapon to him. Caden took it reluctantly. A
derringer was a woman’s gun or, worse, a cardsharp’s.
    “They’re gonna search you for weapons, but they aren’t going to
expect you to be hiding something this small.”
    “And where would you have me put it?”
    Ace looked up. “Under your hat. I don’t know, down your pants.
Stick it wherever the hell you want. Just stick it somewhere you can reach it
quickly in case things go bad. You’re not going to do Maddie any good if you’re
dead.”
    That was true enough. Caden took the gun. He debated putting it
under his hat, but really, that wasn’t a secure option. Instead, he slid it up
his sleeve and tied the wristband tighter.
    “What time you plan on going over?”
    “No time like the present.”
    It was early in the day. Everybody was there. There’d be less
suspicion.
    “If we waited until later, the hands would be out.”
    “If we waited until later, they’d be more gun happy. I want
them to feel safe. For now.”
    “I don’t like this plan.”
    “I don’t like it, either, but you got another option?”
    “I still think I should go in.”
    “And I still say no.”
    Maddie was his responsibility. And she’d waited long enough for
him.
    * * *
    C ADEN HADN ’ T EXPECTED to be able to just walk right up to the door, so he
wasn’t surprised when within a quarter mile of the ranch he was met by two men
on horseback, guns drawn. Culbart wasn’t a fool and these were dangerous
times.
    “Stranger,” the older man with the graying beard greeted
him.
    Caden nodded back. “Mornin’.”
    “What brings you around these parts?”
    Caden took the measure of the men, their hard eyes, their dirty
appearance and the way their fingers rested on the triggers of their well-tended
guns. Culbart didn’t hire fools.
    “Business.”
    “What kind of business could you have way out here?”
    Caden smiled. “Nothing I care to talk about with you.”
    The other man with him, not a youngster but clearly younger,
maybe even family because he had the same muddy-colored eyes and the same set to
his narrow mouth, spat.
    “Well, if you want to get any farther than six feet under right
now, I suggest you be telling us the nature of your business.”
    “I came to talk to Culbart about a filly.” He figured it was a
safe gambit. Everyone knew Culbart aimed to beat out Hell’s Eight as a breeder
of horses.
    The younger man rode around until he could see the brand on
Jester’s side.
    “Since when do Hell’s Eight go searching for fillies?”
    “Since we’re always on the lookout for new breeding stock.
Can’t improve the herd without it.”
    It was the truth. The older man grunted. “What’s your name,
stranger?”
    “Caden Miller.”
    Only by a blink of an eye and a tightening of his hand on the
trigger did either man give any indication his name meant anything. Caden made
note of the response. Only hired guns had that instinctive
shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later attitude.
    With a motion of the gun barrel, the older man indicated to go
forward.
    “I can find my own way. No need to give up your post.”
    “You let us worry about the guard here. You just worry about
keeping your hands clear of those guns.”
    From that Caden deduced, they were done with their shift, and
their replacements were in position. Another thing to note. Culbart’s men
weren’t slipshod when it came to switching the guard. That was going to
complicate things.
    Nobody