Captive Bride (2 page)

He shrugged his massive shoulders. “Maybe I am.”

“Let’s go, dammit.” The second rider spurred his horse forward and handed the reins of the tow horse to her captor. “You’re wasting time.”

“All right. Wait a minute.” He pulled a kerchief from his pocket, stepped behind her and blindfolded her.

Abby struggled against him, calling him every curse word she could think of.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Such language for a lady. Don’t make me gag you too.” He lifted her effortlessly into the saddle.

She bit back more angry words. She had no doubt he’d do just that. She grabbed for the saddle horn. At least she was upright.

“Everybody split up like we planned. We’ll meet later.”

“All right. Let’s go, men.”

The ground shook as the riders galloped away. She was alone with her kidnapper. Her spirits sank, and she swallowed the lump that rose in her throat. “What are you going to do with me?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. Now hold on,” he yelled, and the horse surged forward, almost jerking her from the saddle.

They rode for hours, up rocky slopes and down deep ravines. Evidently her captor was trying to hide his tracks. But it would do no good. Her father’s Comanche tracker, Silver Feather, could follow anyone’s trail. It was said he had no equal.

After so many twists and turns, and being blindfolded, Abby lost her bearings. She had no idea where they were. The sun beat down relentlessly, burning her neck and bare shoulders. Tears threatened to fall, but she wouldn’t let them. She bit down hard on her bottom lip. She’d not show weakness in front of her kidnapper.

To her chagrin, she had to relieve herself. When she could stand the pressure no longer, she hollered at him. “Hey you,
amigo
. Stop, please.”

He reined in his horse. “What’s the matter?”

“I need to, well, you know...”

“You need to what?”

Warmth crept up her neck and across her face. Even though she had a hunch he knew what it was, the bastard was going to make her say the words. “I’ve got to...relieve myself.” Even though she hated doing it, she added, “Please.”

For a moment, she thought he was going to refuse but then she felt her hands being untied. She pulled the blindfold off. The bright sunlight hurt her eyes, and she shielded her eyes with her hand. She glanced at the man. His face was still masked. He motioned her to dismount.

“Over there. Behind that tumble of rocks. Don’t try any funny stuff or else.” The threat hung heavy in the hot air.

Too tired to do anything but nod, Abby slid from the saddle. She held on to the pommel until her feet were steady, then stumbled across the rocky ground and stepped behind the boulders. When she was done, she peeked out from her hiding place. The man had uncapped his canteen. He pulled his mask down and took a long drink.

She dashed to the other side of the rocks and peered out, looking for what she didn’t know. She didn’t recognize anything. No familiar landmarks dotted the horizon, only snow-capped purple mountains loomed in each direction, imprisoning her in this empty nothingness with him. Overhead, a lone eagle soared in a cloudless, brilliant blue sky.

“Hurry up,” he yelled.

With a resigned sigh, she joined the man. He hadn’t pulled his mask up, so for the first time she saw his face clearly. With his dark hair and dark eyes, still full of hostility, he was a handsome devil, rugged and confident. His nose was a harsh slash against his dark skin, and his high cheekbones denoted that he had Indian blood. He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t put a finger on it. His name wasn’t important because once her father caught up with them, he wouldn’t need a name—except to go on his gravestone.

“Do I know you,
amigo
?”

“Stop calling me that. I’m not your friend.”

“Well, you could’ve fooled me there.” Sarcasm hung heavy in her voice.

He barked out a sharp laugh. “You’re real funny, aren’t you?”

“Can I have a drink of water?” Again, she thought he would refuse her. Then he held out the canteen. She took it and uncapped it. She sipped the tepid liquid, knowing her stomach would rebel against too much water, then handed it back to him. “What are you going to do with me? Are you going to kill me?”

“What?” He glanced sharply at her.

“I’ve seen your face. I can identify you. Are you going to kill me?” She tried to hold her voice steady but failed miserably.

“I don’t make war on women,” he said.

“No? You just kidnap them?”

He ignored the question. “Mount up.”

Abby hesitated, knowing every minute she stalled would bring her father closer. “Okay, okay. I just need a minute. I’ve got a rock in my shoe.” She stooped, lifted her skirt and pulled off her shoe. She slowly shook it. “My slippers are ruined, and so is my beautiful wedding dress.” She glanced at him. “It’s all your fault.”

He ignored her. “I’m gonna say this only once. If you don’t want to ride tied facedown over that saddle again, you’ll mount up now.”

She locked gazes with him. He’d hog-tie her—and enjoy doing it. She walked to her horse and grabbed the reins. Her long dress dragged around her feet. She scooped it up, exposing her bare legs, but there was no other way. After settling herself in the saddle, she stared at him. Thus far, he’d given no sign he was going to tie her hands again.

As if reading her thoughts, he held up the rope. “You try anything, and I’ll tie you up.
Compendo
?”

She nodded.

“Good.” He pointed at the northern sky. “Storm coming. If we don’t hurry, we’re gonna get wet.”

“Storm? There’s not a cloud in the sky.”

He lifted his head and breathed in deeply. “It’s on the wind.” He glanced at her. “Smell it?”

She inhaled sharply. “No.”

“Well, mark my words. It’s coming.” He pointed toward the towering cliffs gleaming gold in the setting sun. “That way.”

As she rode and, despite the circumstances, Abby admired the stark landscape, its harsh and wild beauty. A person felt so small amidst the majestic, towering mountains and wide open vistas. This land reached deep inside her. She much preferred this vast place to the crowded streets of New York or Philadelphia.

In about an hour, his words proved true. Dark clouds scudded ominously across the mountain peaks. The wind blustered around them, sending the horses skittering and kicking up whirlwinds of dust that grated against her fevered skin. He reined in beside her, pulled his kerchief up over his nose and mouth, then pulled a second kerchief from his saddlebag and handed it to her. She tied it over the lower half of her face.

He pointed at a dark shadow about halfway up the cliff. “Head in that direction.” He leaned over and slapped her horse on its rump. The animal bolted forward like it had been shot out a cannon.

****

As Davy Larson followed his captive, he knew he was in for trouble. Not just from the law and Sam O’Sullivan for kidnapping his daughter, but from the feelings this black-haired beauty awakened in him. Since the first moment he’d seen Abigail riding her horse into town, long raven tresses flowing in the wind and a wide smile of pure enjoyment on her ruby lips, he’d been in love with her. From a distance. She’d never look at someone like him seriously. They lived in different worlds. That’d been four years ago, and he still felt the same.

Even though she didn’t know his name.

Earlier when she’d asked if she knew him, he’d found himself hoping she remembered their brief encounters that one summer. He’d been fishing in a mountain stream when she’d ridden up. She hadn’t been afraid of him one bit, just dismounted and asked if he’d had any luck. He’d even showed her how to fish with just a line, as his grandmother had taught him. She’d come back several times in the next few weeks. He remembered it like it was yesterday.

It hurt that she didn’t.

As they neared the cave, big fat drops of rain pelted them. In seconds, they were both drenched to the bone. Ahead, Abby hunched low over her horse’s mane. He could see her slim frame shaking from the cold. A wave of guilt washed over him. Dammit! He hadn’t expected to feel any remorse. The emotion surprised him. He hardened his heart. He’d thought about it and thought about it, and this was the only way. Take something O’Sullivan and Winston cherished, as the Irishman and slick lawyer had taken it from his father. He would have his revenge.

A soft kick to his horse’s flanks sent the animal flying past Abby. He motioned for her to follow. He led the way up the rocky incline toward the cave. When they neared the entrance, he slid from the saddle and hit the ground on a run, digging in his heels to keep from falling. A slap of his hand sent his mount into the cave. He whirled and grabbed the reins of Abby’s horse. As the animal slowed, she toppled from the saddle and into his arms. A crack of thunder sent him scurrying into the cave.

She weighed nothing. Her body trembled violently. Whether it was from fear or the cold, he didn’t know, but he had to get her warmed up
pronto
. He’d left supplies here two days ago. He sat her on a large, flat rock and hurried to fetch a blanket. He wrapped it around her shoulders. He hunched beside his old campfire and added dried twigs to the ashes. Soon, flames lit the dark cavern.

“Stand up.” He squatted in front of her.

“No, no, can’t.”

He grabbed her arms and pulled her to her feet. “Take your dress off.”

His words sparked life into her. Her blue eyes darkened. “No. I won’t.”

“You take it off, or I’ll do it for you.” He stepped closer.

“You wouldn’t dare! My father—”

“Isn’t here. Now take off the dress.”

She backed up. “What are you going to do?”

While Davy really wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her until she was warmed from head to toe, and then kiss every other part of her, he merely shook his head. “Don’t worry. I’d rather lay with a she-wolf than an O’Sullivan.”

Her eyes widened, and she lifted her chin a notch. “Why, you, you bastard!”

She balled her hand into a fist and swung at him, but he was ready. With a low laugh, he captured her fist. “Disappointed?”

Her blue eyes sparked blue fire, and she struggled to free her hand.

“Of course, I guess I could reconsider if you really wanted me to.” Her face turned a deep red, and he thought she would explode any second. He leaned over until his lips hovered inches above her. “Do you want me to reconsider?”

She said nothing, but her lips parted. The pink tip of her tongue licked her lips, sending ripples of awareness down the entire length of him. He wanted to kiss her, wanted to taste her lips, and caress every curve of her body, had wanted to for a long time, had even dreamed of it. But it would never happen. Especially after this. If he didn’t end up dead, he’d probably rot in a jail cell. Still, what was done was done. It was too late to change it. He’d made his decision, and now he had to live with it.

First things first. He had to get her out of that wet dress and warmed up. She was shaking like a leaf in a windstorm, and her lips had turned blue. It sure wouldn’t help his case any if she caught the pneumonia and died of it. It was clear she wasn’t taking the dress off on her own.

He grabbed the neckline and jerked it down to her waist. The sight of her bare breasts, with their rosy taut tips, sent shock waves through him, making him regret his rash action. He summoned his quickly-disappearing self control. “You’ve got two choices. Take that wet dress off now, or I’ll finish tearing it from your body. You can go back there.” He nodded toward the rear of the cavern. “You’ve got ten minutes.”

Like a scared rabbit, she turned and ran. Davy bit back a laugh. His game had almost backfired on him. He wanted her, but he didn’t want to want her. She was O’Sullivan’s daughter. He stalked to the mouth of the cave, angry with himself that he couldn’t distance himself from his thoughts. Hopefully, he could get his errant body under control before he had to face her again.

The rain had lessened, and the setting sun peeked out from behind the clouds, sending a rosy glow over the land. He loved this land, his home, and he’d fight to his death for it. If that was his fate, so be it.

Chapter Two

Abby’s hands shook as she pulled off the wet dress and frilly under-things and wrapped the blanket tightly around her. The pile of soggy satin brought sudden, unexpected tears, and she swiped a hand across her eyes. The dress had been so beautiful with its yards and yards of lace and satin and bead pearls. Her dream dress had been imported from Paris and had cost a small fortune.

At the entrance, her captor stood staring out into the driving rain. He’d meant it when he said he’d tear the dress from her body. Sparks of desire had flashed momentarily in his dark eyes. An answering spark had unexpectedly ignited inside her. A wave of guilt assailed her. Had she lost her mind? She had to keep her wits, play it smart and give her father time to find her.

Why had the man kidnapped her? She didn’t know him, and as far as she knew, had never done anything to him. She’d only been home for a couple of months and had been busy planning the wedding. She’d only gone into town maybe four or five times. So why? He’d said he wanted...justice? What in tarnation did that mean?

There was only one answer. He held a grudge against her father. Sam O’Sullivan was a wealthy man with power and influence. The governor and other wealthy ranchers had a strong voice in the area. There would always be men who hated them because they were successful. Her captor must be one of them.

As her kidnapper turned and headed back toward the fire, Abby studied her surroundings. The cave was gigantic, with two openings, the main one and a second smaller entrance set off to the left near where he’d tethered the horses. A mule grazed on a pile of hay. He’d been thorough in his preparations.

The faint sound of dripping water caught her attention. It sounded like it came from the back near the animals. Above, great teardrops of rocks hung from the ceiling looking like they were going to fall at any minute.