Chapter Fourteen

Zachariah sat beside the fire and watched Craig closely. The man was beginning to stir and Zachariah didn't like the way Wyatt seemed confused and angry—and he was fairly certain he could see hurt in those brown eyes as well as he studied Craig.

Why was Craig here? Did he want to convince Wyatt to go home? Did he mean Wyatt harm? Were he and Wyatt truly just friends or had there been something more and now Craig had come to rekindle it? That would explain that storm of conflicting emotions in Wyatt's eyes.

And what would Zachariah do if that were the case? Calmly turn around and walk away? Yell, scream and fight to keep Wyatt with him? Perhaps skin the blond-haired bastard alive—the possibilities were quite endless.

"Holy mother of pearl....I've got a lump the size of a boulder and a headache to match. I'm gonna shoot the bastard that hit me as soon as I can move with crying."

Zachariah's attention snapped back to Craig as the man slowly sat up and his eyes blinked open. The first person his blurry gaze landed on was Zachariah and, at the sight of him, they widened substantially.

"Damn. You are one big, ugly bastard. I guess I should be happy I ain't dead and quit grumbling about a lump."

Wyatt surprised them both when he leaned forward and shoved Craig. Hard. Nearly toppling the wobbly man over.

"Wyatt!" Craig smiled but the smile quickly vanished at the hard glare Wyatt sent back.

'What are you doing here?' Wyatt demanded.

Craig frowned. "What do you mean? I'm your best friend, Wyatt. Why wouldn't I be here?"

Zachariah saw Wyatt's brow rise as his jaw popped and his eyes redden. 'You weren't my friend last time we talked.'

Craig paled and swallowed hard. "I'm sorry." He glanced over at Zachariah as if hoping he'd go away.

That wasn't going to happen.

"I was in a bad place. I was drinking too much. I took my hurt out on you and I shouldn't have done that."

'You're in a better place now?' Wyatt asked, his expression skeptical.

Craig shrugged. "I miss Willie and I always will. And I miss that life. But I'm done drinking myself into a stupor."

'Why the change?'

Craig sighed and kicked at the dirt. "Jeb had a few not nice things to say to me after he tossed me in a watering trough. I took a few days to sober up, cool off and realized he was right."

Zachariah simply watched Wyatt closely. He had learned every nuance of the man's expressions and posture. He could read him like a book. It was clear that Wyatt was still a bit hurt and confused but a wide smile was soon splitting his face and he slid over to wrap Craig in a warm hug.

Great. One more person stealing Wyatt's affection while Zachariah was left with none. He'd spent his whole life affectionless—it shouldn't bother him. But those few hugs and gentle touches from Wyatt had meant more to Zachariah than he could put into words and he wanted more.

Just to remind the two distracted men that he was still around, Zachariah cleared his throat. Craig turned to look at him as Wyatt pulled away. The look on Craig's face was anything but friendly.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" he snapped. "You yank Wyatt away from home and try to get him killed for what?"

Zachariah bristled. "I didn't yank Wyatt anywhere. Hell, I didn't even want him around at first but he insisted."

Craig snorted. "And why would he do that? Wyatt wouldn't abandon all of us and ride off with a stranger. What did you do to him?"

Zachariah snorted. Why did so many seem to think that Wyatt was incapable of making his own choices? These people, his family and friends, seemed to doubt him and believe Wyatt needed protection.

Wyatt was tough as hell. Wyatt didn't need their smothering.

"I didn't do anything to him. He came of his own free will and seemed pretty damn sure that none of you would care whether he was around or not."

Craig's face paled and Zachariah was sure that was guilt in the man's green eyes as he turned his attention back to Wyatt. "I do care, Wyatt."

Wyatt nodded. 'I know. Zachariah is too protective.'

Zachariah huffed with indignation. Why that little..... Too protective?!

Zachariah shoved himself to his feet and adjusted his gun belt. "I'll just let you two catch up," he growled, before stomping away toward the tent they'd set up for the woman nearly one hundred yards away. She'd been terrified to see a new man in camp and so Wyatt had been sure to place her at a distance she felt relatively safe.

He stepped up to the tent and stood there feeling more than a little awkward. He couldn't exactly knock seeing as how tents had no doors but each time he had ever simply 'popped' his head into the woman's tent she'd begun to shriek and blubber as if he were death himself.

It wasn't that Zachariah was hard-hearted. He knew the woman had suffered at the hands of her captors—but he truly wished she'd be a bit stronger and do something other than cry, stare into space, scream and cling to Wyatt.

Zachariah needed to find his sister. He needed to know where Clint had gone. He had a feeling this woman held at least some kind of answer but she wouldn't speak to them about any of it—hell she hadn't even told them her name.

Unwilling to poke his head in there and cause that screaming racket to start, yet unwilling to return to the reunion at the fire, Zachariah settled down on the ground cross-legged in front of the tent. He had a feeling the woman had heard his approach—with any luck she'd poke her own head out and he'd be able to get her to speak to him.

***

Wyatt chewed his bottom lip as he watched Zachariah settle down near the tent. He'd obviously hurt the other man's feelings. What exactly had he gotten himself into?

Wyatt's heart was falling into the hands of an overprotective, oversensitive, scarred up, ex-bounty hunter who didn't know much at all of love and affection.

Wyatt froze.

His heart was falling.

Shit.

He hadn't meant to think that!

Was it really?

Was he falling in love with Zachariah?

"What the hell is the story with that bastard?" Craig's voice cut through Wyatt's shocking thoughts.

He tore his eyes away from Zachariah and turned his attention back to his best friend. 'What do you mean?'

"I mean..." Craig grumbled as he sat forward and poked at the small fire with a stick. "Why are you out here with him? Why aren't you home with everyone else?"

Wyatt sighed. The answer came automatically. He didn't even have to think about it and he knew it was the truth—even though Zachariah probably didn't even realize it yet.

'He needs me.'

"He needs you? Needs you for what? Protection?" Craig chuckled. "No offense best friend but I don't believe that big bastard will need much in the way of protection. I reckon he looks like he can handle himself."

Wyatt shook his head, flushed and let his gaze drop to the dirt beside his feet. Craig was silent for a long moment. The stick he'd been using to poke at the fire was tossed into the flames.

"Wait one cotton-picking minute...."

Wyatt glared at his friend's use of slave terminology but still didn't look up. "Are you telling me that you came with Zachariah—that you're with him now—because you actually want to be with him?"

Wyatt gave the tiniest of nods. He had never opened up to anyone about his desires before. He'd never let any of his family know that he dreamed of falling in love and spending his life with a man instead of a woman. He hated knowing that now Craig had one more thing he'd have to 'put up' with when it came to his best friend's oddities.

"Well shit, Wyatt! Why didn't you ever say anything? I just thought you were shy or something when you kept turning down spending time with women. I wouldn't have teased you so hard or pushed you to do it!"

Wyatt finally met Craig's gaze. 'Sorry.'

"Now dammit, don't do that. Don't apologize that way. Do you honestly think I care that you want men? Hell, I grew up with Jeb! It don't matter to me who you want to fall in love with—but I'm not too sure I like the thought of you with him."

Wyatt frowned. He hadn't been sure what reaction he'd been expecting. He should have known Craig wouldn't care about his preferences given that Jebidiah had the same ones but Wyatt had thought that Craig might be annoyed or grumble about there being yet one more odd thing about Wyatt.

Instead, Craig only seemed annoyed that it was Zachariah he was riding with. Craig cleared his throat. "Are you in love with him? Is that why you're so hell bent on helping the man?"

Wyatt gave a quick denial—probably too quick. But he wasn't in love with Zachariah.... At least not yet.

"But you're interested in him," Craig stated. "That's a big part of the reason that you're still here."

Wyatt saw a teasing light in Craig's eyes and he sighed. There was no point denying the truth. Craig grinned. "I guess that means riding along then."

'I don't think Zachariah will like that,' Wyatt warned.

"I don't care if big, dark, scarred, heavy-fisted man likes it or not," Craig quickly assured him. "Now I might have gone a bit crazy for a while but I'm back now and I'm your best friend. If you're going to be riding around killing people, I can't let you have all the fun."

Wyatt's gaze went to the sky as he gave up arguing. All he could do was hope that Zachariah wouldn't be too angry about having yet another person tagging along in the search for Eleanor.