Rage surging through his veins, Nolan automatically reached for Tilly. Snyder squeezed his throat, holding him back.
“Well, well, well.” Dakota Red stood slowly and crossed the room. “What do we have here?” He lifted the object from the floor, and the metal barrel of a gun glinted in the light of the kerosene lantern. “You’re full of surprises, ma’am.”
* * *
Tears of frustration sprang in Tilly’s eyes, as much from the pain of falling as in losing the gun. They’d been watching her so closely, she’d thought she’d have a better chance of hiding the weapon outside. She hadn’t counted on the outlaws’ cruelty.
Charlie hooked his arm beneath her shoulder and hauled her upright. She cringed from the steely look in his close-set eyes, and braced for a cuffing.
“Teach him a lesson,” Dakota Red declared.
“Him?” Tilly’s eyes flew open.
The outlaw smirked. “Well, I can’t hit a woman now, can I?”
Charlie wrapped Nolan’s arm behind his back, and Snyder pounded him in the gut with a burly fist. Nolan paled and went to his knees.
The outlaw released her and Tilly rushed to his side.
Charlie grinned. “I knew you’d try something. Got anything else you’d like to tell us?”
He reached for Nolan and Tilly put her body between the outlaw and the prone man. “Nothing. That was the only gun.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“I don’t care what you believe.”
She reached for Nolan.
“I’m all right,” he said, his voice strained.
He didn’t appear fine as he staggered upright. His complexion was ashen, and his face was contorted in a grimace of pain.
Nolan declined her proffered hand. “I don’t need your help.”
Her fingers trembled. He might not need her help, but she needed his...desperately. The only other time she’d traveled outside of Omaha had been for Walter’s funeral, and she’d had the guidance of her father. She’d thought Omaha slightly wild when compared to cities she’d read about back east. The gold-rush town of Virginia City had shattered her naive belief. She’d been shocked by the rough conditions and the hordes of dirt-covered men desperate for gold.
Eleanor had never voiced concerns over her living conditions, and Tilly hadn’t pressed her sister. Being surrounded by these hardened men gave her new insight into Eleanor’s challenges. Why hadn’t her sister ever confided in her?
“Girlie!” Dakota Red shouted, a malicious grin slashing his craggy face. “The fellows and I have a powerful hunger. Fetch them vittles.”
A filthy hand tugged on her skirts. She stepped away from Charlie’s grasping hand, only to find herself bumping in to Snyder. The burly man laughed and plucked at her sleeve.
“Got any more guns hiding in there?” he demanded.
She dodged his grasp, her eyes flashing with anger. Charlie halted her exit, splaying his arms and grinning as though this was all some sort of game to him. She whipped around and discovered she was trapped. Panicked, she was near to crying. She set her jaw, refusing to shed a tear. Charlie seemed to feed on her desperation and fear. She wouldn’t break down. Nolan had warned her. If she broke down, they’d have her.
Nolan straightened, one hand braced against the table, the other clutching his ribs. “You know the deal. Leave her be.”
An insane gratitude swept over her. Though her independent spirit rebelled against cowering behind the stagecoach man, survival took hold. At this moment, she had no other choice except clinging to the safety he provided.
Charlie threw back his head and chortled. “Your man has some fight.”
“We need him, Charlie.” Dakota Red’s expression was a frigid as a winter wind. “Stay away from the woman.”
“She ain’t worth it anyway,” his brother spat out. “She’s plain as a fence post and she’s got hips like a buffalo.”
Outraged, she cocked her palm. In a flash Nolan caught her wrist. Blinking rapidly, she lowered her hand. If she struck Charlie, he’d be forced to strike back, hard, or risk losing face in front of the other men.
Lifting her chin, she moved away, refusing to let the outlaws see the devastation Charlie’s words had wrought. She was plain, and she’d always had more curves than the other ladies. Having her faults displayed before the other men smarted. Who was she kidding? Nolan’s opinion was the one that mattered most to her. She snuck a look at him from beneath her eyelashes. His expression was dark and unreadable.
“Git, woman,” Dakota Red ordered once more. “She don’t need to be pretty to make supper.”
The outlaws grumbled at giving up their game, but when Tilly hastily set the beans and bacon on the table next to the bread, they shrugged and relented. She returned to the kitchen and scooted nearer to Nolan.
“Are you all right?” she asked in a hushed tone. “How are your ribs?”
“Good,” he replied, his voice strained. “Nothing to worry about.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Woman,” Charlie hollered. “Fetch me more water.”
Tilly ground her teeth and turned away from Nolan. He caught her hand, his gaze fierce.
“We have to see this through,” he whispered. “Do you understand? Don’t let them get to you, or they’ll kill us all. They’ll try and get under our skin to keep us off balance.”
Her face burned. He knew. He knew she was humiliated. At least he hadn’t tried to appease her with lies, and for that she was grateful.
She’d rather have his anger than his pity. “I understand.”
“Charlie has to look tough for the other men. The best way to make himself look big is to belittle someone smaller than him. We’re caught in the middle, that’s all.”
“I said that I understand, and I do,” she said through clenched teeth.
Nolan pressed a kiss against her temple.
Her whole body quivered. She leaned into his touch, then caught Charlie staring at them. The affectionate gesture was obviously for his benefit.
Tilly moved away. Her looks weren’t what gave her worth.
The outlaws ate the simple meal with gusto, nearly emptying the pan of beans before the girls arrived with the berries. With her nieces present, the icy knot of fear settled in Tilly’s chest once more. She directed the girls inside with a nervous grin, admonishing them to wipe their feet. Best to keep everything as normal as possible.
Elizabeth had purple stains covering her mouth and the front of her dress. “Boo-berries.”
She approached the far end of the table and held out a handful of smashed purple. “Want?”
Dakota Red drew his chin toward his chest and angled his head with a shake. “You keep ’em. Let’s go, boys.” He pointed one gnarled finger in Tilly’s direction, his mouth set in a grim line. “Remember your young’uns the next time you want to try something. You got me?”
She suppressed a shiver of fear. His threat was obvious. “I understand.”
Gracious. She was beginning to sound like a parrot, chirping the same phrases over and over again.
“Me and the boys will be keeping a tight watch on the horses,” he continued. “You play along real nice like we asked, and everything is going to be fine. You got that?”
Tilly gave a hesitant