Wyatt and Flynn reined in beside them, their horses snorting after so strenuous a ride. They’d clearly pushed hard. “Ivy’s horse came back to the ranch without her,” Wyatt said, his face etched with worry. “She told me she was going treasure hunting, and I reckoned she must’ve gotten into some kind of trouble.”

“Did you get caught in the fire?” Flynn directed his question to Jericho as he dismounted.

“Yes, the fire trapped us for a bit. But that’s not the problem now.”

“Then what is?” Flynn scanned Ivy and then blanched. “Thunderation, Jericho! How’d she get stabbed?”

Brody tipped up the brim of his hat and peered at Jericho as if he’d turned into the devil himself. “He claims she got in the middle of a fight with outlaws.”

Now that he’d captured Otis—Rodney James—what was the point in hiding the nature of his bounty hunting work from them any longer? He might as well confess the truth. “I’m an agent working for Pinkerton in Chicago with my dad. I came here to hunt down Rodney James, wanted for war crimes.” He cocked his head at Otis.

Wyatt glanced at the outlaw, who’d slouched down against the tree again. Otis hardly had the menace of a crook, especially now with his pained expression and labored breathing.

“There were four of them.” Jericho felt as though he had to offer the additional explanation. “The other three are tied up in a cave.”

“You mean to tell me you’ve been here all this while tracking down outlaws and putting Ivy in a heap of danger?” Flynn took a menacing step toward him, his fists taut as if he wanted to slam them into Jericho.

Jericho stiffened, his face still smarting from his last altercation with Flynn. “That’s why I was trying to keep my distance from her.”

“From everything I’ve seen, you ain’t been keeping your distance.” Flynn was practically shouting. “And being out with her again today ain’t either.”

“I followed her because I was worried about her being alone with Hance and Otis.” Jericho couldn’t keep his tone from rising too.

Flynn shook his head, his eyes flashing. “If you were so blamed worried, you should have steered a mile clear of her.”

He’d tried. But he wasn’t about to give Flynn any excuses because he could have tried harder, even if it’d killed him to do so.

Brody began to lift Ivy into his arms. Jericho reached to help him. Before he could touch Ivy, Flynn shoved him away with a force that made him stumble backward and almost topple to his rear end. “Don’t you dare get anywhere near her again.”

Jericho righted himself and reined in his frustration.

“Take it easy now, Flynn,” Wyatt said. “Fighting each other ain’t gonna do us a lick of good.”