Chapter Twelve

Casey Dougal looked over the papers on her desk. A new shipment of inventory had come in and she needed to get to the warehouse and look them over. She hoped this shipment would include more variety. Not every man wanted to lay with a virgin woman—some liked more experienced women, some liked men, and hell, some preferred their partners on the younger side.

Casey didn't care. It was not her responsibility to deem things moral or immoral. She was there to provide her clients and customers with exactly what they wanted. This was a business she had built all on her own and just now business was booming.

A knock on her office door pulled Casey from her thoughts. She closed the file she'd been looking through and cleared her throat. "Come in."

Two of her most trusted and closest workers stepped into the room and they did not appear very eager to be there. "Horace, Jake, why are you here? You're supposed to be overseeing the shipment arrival."

Horace and Jake got into a temporary shoving match as each tried to push the other to the forefront. Casey folded her hands on her desk and raised her brow as she watched their ridiculousness.

"We have news," Horace stated, losing the battle.

She tapped her nails against her polished desk. "About?"

Horace's throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. "Harvey."

Casey rolled her eyes at mention of her younger brother. Harvey Dougal was always getting himself into trouble and Casey was always rushing to his rescue. It was annoying, certainly, but that is what family did. They were there for each other.

"And what kind of trouble has my dear brother gotten himself into now?"

Again, the pushing match began as Horace attempted to step back. This time it was Jake who lost. He stepped forward, wringing his hands. "He's dead, ma'am."

Casey blinked several times. Surely her ears were deceiving her. "What did you say?" she asked slowly.

Jake sighed. "He's dead."

Pain lacerated Casey's heart. Yes, her brother was an immature man who was always in one bit of trouble or another, but she loved him. He was all she had left of her family.

Case rose from her chair and walked to the window, looking out across the city as she attempted to gain control of her emotions. "How?"

"He was murdered."

Casey folded her hands behind her back and felt her jaw pop. "Murdered? Who murdered my brother?"

"All we know is it was a woman named Willamena. And it happened in a small town in New Mexico."

Willamena. The name was unfamiliar. "Where is this Willamena now?"

Horace stepped forward. "Harvey managed to shoot her once before she killed him. We heard she's still in that town."

Casey felt rage replacing the pain in her chest. She would squash that damn woman like a bug. She would avenge her brother.

"Gather some men," she ordered. "The best with guns I have. We're going to New Mexico."

***

Willa was standing alone at the corral watching Preston trot around on his favorite pony. The boy was decent for his age and size. Eleanor had told her that he was a sickly child with breathing issues and a medication he had to take from time to time. She said it wasn't as bad as when he'd been younger but it seemed it had stunted his growth a bit.

Footsteps approached from behind and Willa stiffened a bit. They were heavy, clearly a man, and he was simply standing behind her silently.

"I was shot in the back not too long ago," she grumbled. "I'd prefer if folks didn't stand behind me and ogle."

"Sorry ma'am."

The voice was unfamiliar. Willa turned and took in the sight of the new man. He looked a lot like Jeb only more boyish and with longer hair. There was a small girl, little more than a baby, resting on his hip.

"You must be Craig."

His eyes widened a bit as they looked her up and down. She would smack him if he were a typical man ogling her but Willa knew it was nothing sexual—Craig was in love with that big black man Ezekial.

No, she knew why he was ogling and therefore his next words were no surprise to her. "Damn... you do look like Willie. He even wore the same damn type of pants... and the tassles and buckles...."

Willa frowned. "Yeah yeah. I look like Willie and I dress like Willie. I wouldn't know because I never met my brother and the man is currently worm shit."

Craig winced. "Don't say it like that."

"Dada," the girl in his arms gurgled. "Pony." She pointed toward the pony Preston was riding and made a grabbing motion.

"Papa don't want you riding ponies yet, girl. You know how overprotective he is," Craig replied, adjusting her on his hip.

The girl was cute but then again all children that age were. With her blond curls and big hazel eyes, Willa had a feeling she was going to be a heartbreaker. It seemed so odd to her that these men were living together and raising children.... They didn't have to hide who they were.

"I've been putting off meeting you," Craig admitted. "Ezekial wasn't too fond of the idea so I waited until the bossy ass was in town."

"Why does Ezekial have a problem with me?" Willa asked. Hell, she had barely met the man.

Craig sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand as the girl tugged on his shirt and continued to babble about the pony. "I took Willie's death the hardest. I wasn't myself for a long time afterward. I guess everyone has been afraid that seeing you would send me back there."

Willa felt her defenses lower a bit. "You were close to my brother?"

"Yeah, we raised a lot of hell together. Gave Jeb more than a few gray hairs. He was one of my best friends."

"Jeb told me some stories. It's nice to meet you, Craig."

"Nice to meet you too."

Craig came to stand beside her as they watched Preston ride around the corral and the girl clapped and cheered. "So what are your plans? What are you gonna do once you heal up?"

Willa shrugged. "Not sure yet. I reckon it'll depend on some things."

"I heard Eleanor's been helping you a lot. That surprises me," Craig frowned. "She's always been a bit odd ever since we rescued her and Wyatt."

That piqued Willa's interest and grabbed her attention. "Rescued her from where?"

Craig's eyes widened and he cleared his throat while shaking his head. "Probably shouldn't have said that.... It's not really for me to tell you."

"Well why not?" Willa snapped. "If you don't tell me I'll just go ask Wyatt. You said he was rescued too."

This seemed to make Craig even more afraid. "No! No, don't bring it up to Wyatt because then Zachariah will find out I brought it up and that giant injun barely tolerates me as it is."

Willa cocked her hip to the side. "So are you gonna tell me?"

"Well hell..." Willa recognized defeat in Craig's eyes. "Zachariah used to be a bounty hunter. He took down a gang leader and that gang wanted to get back at him so they kidnapped his sister. Wyatt ended up riding with him to rescue her, I ended up coming along too, and then Wyatt got taken by the gang as well. But we rescued them, it's all over and everyone lived. The end."

Willa felt her fists clenched with the knowledge that Eleanor had been mistreated. "How long did they have her?"

Craig shifted his feet. "I really shouldn't be talking about this...." Then he sighed. "It was months. The new gang leader took a liking to her."

Willa was smart enough to put the pieces together. Eleanor's body had been used by those men. It explained her fear. It explained the shawl. It explained why she was so damn skittish.

"Are they dead?" she growled.

"Who?"

"That gang. Are they dead?"

Craig seemed puzzled. "Yeah, I reckon." He studied her carefully for several moments. "Why do you care so much?"

Willa turned her gaze back to Preston and propped her arms on the fence. "I just do."