Her Bodyguard (16 page)

He tried the general store again and learned she’d spent a chunk of his bankroll and purchased a floral carpetbag in order to tote her loot around. Quickly and methodically, he canvassed every business in town. His stomach sank upon learning that a mare had gone missing from the livery. Mari definitely had been noticed, but no one had seen her carrying the suitcase. Murphy must have snatched her after she left the general store.

Luke returned to the store and set about retracing Mari’s steps. The alley beside the apothecary shop provided a prime spot for an ambush, so Luke decided to give it a thorough search. He spotted signs of a scuffle immediately.

Hunkering down, he studied the patches of bent grass and disturbed dirt. Two men and a woman. Luke muttered an ugly curse. He’d proved a damned sorry excuse for a bodyguard.

He tracked the trio along a southwest path away from the center of town. As he followed the trail, a hard, hot rage began to churn in his gut. He was frightened for Mari, furious with himself, and he fantasized of drawing a bead on Finn Murphy and blowing the murdering snake away. He should have killed the son of a bitch years ago.

Recognizing that he needed to maintain his focus, Luke consciously locked away his fears and concerns and studied the trail with a practiced, professional eye. He followed the signs of the trio’s passage for approximately five minutes, and then, beneath a cottonwood along the bank of a dry streambed, he made a disturbing discovery.

Mari’s necklace hung from a leafy limb and swayed slowly back and forth in the gentle summer breeze. The chain was broken, knotted and threaded through a small piece of paper.

Luke’s hand trembled ever so slightly as he reached up and removed the necklace from the tree.

The note consisted of a single sentence:
She sure is a pretty one
.

Luke’s blood ran cold.

CHAPTER EIGHT

MARI WAS HOT. SHE was hot and thirsty and alternately angry and afraid.

They had her mounted on a docile sorrel mare led by the silver-haired man’s more spirited gelding. Her hands were crossed at the wrist and tied to the saddle-horn. They’d taken her shoes and made unsettling promises about the consequences she’d face should she act in any way to impede their progress.

They rode for hours beneath the blazing sun, their route taking them deep into the Texas Hill Country. They forded creeks and trotted across meadows painted orange and yellow with butterfly weed and Mexican hats. They pushed their way through a thicket of blackberry vines that snagged and stained her new dress. Pain radiated from Mari’s thighs, hips and bottom—it had been years since she’d spent this much time on horseback—but it took the ruin of her new dress to actually bring her to tears.

Since one man rode in front of her and the other behind her, little conversation took place. It wasn’t until they finally stopped to rest that the men spoke of anything of consequence. Then she wished with all her heart that they’d kept their mouths shut.

“We’ll lead him into Cedar Canyon,” said the silver- haired outlaw. His name was Murphy, Finn Murphy, and Mari had realized early on in her abduction that he was the obvious leader of the pair.

The second villain, Clay Burrows, scratched his neck and pursed his lips. “Lookout Rock,” he mused. “You thinking to take the high ground, then shoot him when he rides by like we did with that Pinkerton fella?”

“No.” Murphy glanced over at Mari and smiled. The gleam of anticipation in his pale gray eyes sent a shiver coursing up her spine. “That’s too easy. I have something more…personal…in mind for Luke Garrett.”

“Yeah?” Burrows followed the path of Murphy’s focus, then smirked. “Leave it to Murphy to figure a way to work a woman into his plans.”

“Not just a woman. Garrett’s woman.” He chuckled softly. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

Mari’s stomach sank, and the fright that had been numbed by the rigors of their journey erupted anew, fresh and sharp and bigger than basic fear for her life. This time, for the first time in her life, Mari knew a woman’s fear as the threat of sexual violation loomed.

That fright propelled her to speak up. “I’m not his woman.”

Murphy arched a brow. Burrows snorted with disbelief.

“I’m not. I told you before he’s just as likely to leave without me as to come look for me.”

“Nice try, honey, but he had his tongue down your throat, and he took you with him when he sneaked off the train yesterday. You’re his woman, all right.”

I wish that were true, Mari thought. Better to have given her virginity to a man of her choice than to have it stolen from her by a villain.

Murphy’s smile turned predatory as he ambled toward her. Mari forced herself to ignore the instinct to back away. He reached up, trailed a finger down her cheek. “That’s why making you mine will be all the more entertaining.”

Oh, heavens
. Mari straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. “No matter what you do to me, sir, I will never be yours.”

He chuckled. “Spunk. I like a gal with spunk.” He put his hands at her waist, hoisted her up into the saddle and retied her wrists. “Breaking you is gonna be a pleasure.”

He mounted his horse, and they resumed their journey, Murphy leading and Burrows at her back. Mari’s thoughts whirled, a storm of anger and dread and determination. The echo of his threat boomed like thunder.
Breaking you. Breaking you. Breaking you
.

Mari vowed it wouldn’t happen. She’d do whatever was necessary to prevent it. For herself, for her family.
I won’t break. No matter what, I won’t break I’m a McBride of Willow Hill. If he does his worst, I’ll be a willow. I’ll bend, but I won’t break
.

First, though, she’d do her level best to prevent Murphy from accomplishing any more mischief than he’d already managed.

Fortified by the exercise, Mari realized she needed to make her own plan. A battle was at hand and right now, her only weapon was her wits. Not an insignificant weapon, she told herself, but at this particular moment, she’d just as soon have a gun.

All right, Mari, think
. For him to accomplish his threat, she’d need to be out of the saddle. On the ground she had her feet for weapons, her knees. Papa had taught all his daughters long ago the way to use their knees to disable a man.

Good. That’s one weapon to keep at the ready. What else?

She needed her hands free. That would open up many more options. During the long ride, she’d tried repeatedly to free them, but she’d had little luck.

Mari studied the rope binding her wrists. Strong. Sturdy. A simple but effective square knot. While the knot wasn’t as tight as it had been before their rest stop, she shouldn’t expect it to come undone on its own.

Burrows interrupted her musing by calling out, “Hey, boss? You gonna let me take a turn with her?”

Murphy glanced over his shoulder. “I’m a generous man.”

Mari shuddered, and though panic hovered at the edge of her consciousness, she managed to keep her focus. Her teeth. Maybe she could use her teeth to pick the knot loose. It was worth a try. So how to go about it in such a way that they wouldn’t notice?

This would take some pretense. Some acting. What would Kat do in a situation like this?

Hunching her shoulders, hanging her head, Mari began to sob. It was an easy bit of acting.

“Now, don’t be scared, honey,” Burrows said, a grin in his voice. “It’s just a screw. We’re not gonna kill you or anything. Right, Murphy? Were you figuring on killing her?”

“Probably not. Unless she does something stupid.”

“See?” Burrows continued. “Hell, you’re liable to like it so much you’ll want to join the Brazos Valley gang. That’s happened to us before, you know. Women go for Finn Murphy.”

I’ll go for him, all right. I’ll go for his gizzard with his very own knife
.

Doubled over in the saddle, Mari continued her pretense of crying and surreptitiously put her teeth to the knot. The dry hemp tasted salty with sweat, and her thirst grew even more pronounced.

Behind her, Burrows continued to talk. “Remember those gals in Tucson, Murphy? A couple of redheaded sisters. They grabbed hold of ol’Murphy and didn’t let him out of their house for damn near a week.”

The prospect of rape obviously excited the outlaw, because he continued to rattle on about the gang’s sexual conquests for a good ten minutes. As disconcerting as Mari found the topic, she was glad he had found something to keep him occupied, because it kept his attention in the past and away from her long enough for her to accomplish her goal.

With one last tug of her teeth, the knot slipped and the rope loosened enough for her to pull her hands free. She choked back an exultant cry.

Good. This was good. Now, what next? She was tempted to make a break and ride hell-bent for safety, except she recognized the foolishness of such an action. Their horses were faster, and they’d undoubtedly catch her before she traveled a hundred yards.

No. Better to wait for an opportunity to go for one of their guns. Mari knew how to shoot. She was, in fact, a better-than-decent shot.

In front of her, Murphy lifted his right hand, signaling a stop. Mari’s gaze flicked down to her wrists, checking to make sure she still appeared bound.
Be ready. Think quick and be prepared to act.

Finn Murphy gestured toward a hill rising no more than a quarter mile in front of them, the highest elevation Mari had seen that day. “Clay, ride ahead and check our trail. Need to make sure Garrett isn’t following faster than I expected.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Excellent idea, Mari thought. She much preferred dealing with villains one at a time.

“You can meet us at Cedar Canyon.” Murphy glanced at Mari, then added. “Take your time.”

Burrows’s knowing leer made Mari’s skin crawl. He spurred his horse, kicking up a cloud of red dirt as he cantered toward the hill. Murphy whistled “Yellow Rose of Texas” as they continued on their way.

They rode due west into the late-afternoon sun. Thirst became a vicious companion, but Mari refrained from requesting water out of fear that he’d notice the loosened rope.

She suspected her best opportunity would come when he went to lift her down from the saddle. She’d have the advantage of height, and he wouldn’t be expecting her to launch herself at him. She could knock him down, go for his gun. Then…what? Shoot him? Could she do it? Did she have it in her to murder a man?

Except, it wouldn’t be murder. It’d be self-defense and she needed to remember that. When the time arrived, she’d only get one chance. She couldn’t afford squeamishness.

She wouldn’t allow her parents to face the loss of another daughter.

Mari realized that no matter what he said, if Finn Murphy succeeded in his quest to kill Luke Garrett, then he’d likely kill her, too. It made no sense for him to allow her to live. Not only could she testify against him, she’d have knowledge of the general direction of his Texas hideout. No, this was a fight for her life. Mari had to be ready to kill.

Damn you, Luke Garrett. This is all your fault
.

TENSION COILED in Luke’s belly like a rattlesnake, coldblooded and mean. It was done. The die had been cast. Finn Murphy was a dead man.

Luke had put the task off long enough.

Eighteen years he’d known the man. Eighteen years he’d despised him. Ten years since the first time he’d seriously contemplated killing him but refrained, because his sister had begged him not to do it. Today she’d probably load his gun for him.

Luke rode hard, following a trail they’d made no attempt to conceal. At the beginning of the chase he’d expected an ambush, and he’d proceeded with appropriate caution. But after passing without mishap three separate areas perfect for attack, he’d concluded that Murphy was leading him somewhere specific for a particular purpose.

He didn’t like that idea one bit. He knew in his gut it meant trouble for Mari. “Damn me for letting her out of my sight for even a minute.”

Luke spied a spot where they’d stopped. He dismounted, studied the signs. Three horses. Footprints, two men and—thank God—a woman. They were still a good hour ahead of him.

He remounted and moved out, determined to make up the time. Mari McBride was in trouble, and it was all his fault.

If Murphy hurt her, Luke would never forgive himself.

MURPHY REINED his mount to a stop beneath a cotton-wood growing on the bank of a creek-fed pool. Had she not been busy plotting how to save her life, Mari might have appreciated the beauty of the spot. As it was, she quickly scanned the area, looking for loose rocks, fallen limbs, anything she might use as a weapon should her plan to knock him down and grab his gun fail.

Murphy swung his long leg over the saddle and slid to the ground. He tied his horse to the Cottonwood trunk then turned and looked at her. He folded his arms, his gray eyes smoldering. “I’ve been looking forward to this all afternoon. Get down.”

Mari went still. Down? That wasn’t the plan! “I can’t. My hands…”

“You got that rope untied an hour ago. Nice bit of acting there, though. Burrows never noticed you were free. Now get down from your horse, little lady.”

No! He was too far away. She couldn’t throw herself that far to knock him down. Besides, without the element of surprise she’d never be successful.

All right, Mari. Go to Plan B.

“I will as soon as I think of a Plan B,” she murmured beneath her breath.

“C’mon, honey,” he prodded. “Let me see a little leg while you’re at it.”

I’ll show you my leg. Right before it kicks your private parts up to your ears
.

Despite her silent bravado, fear rode her blood as she slid her leg over the saddle and slipped to the ground. She did her best to ignore it. She needed to focus all her energy on defeating her enemy.

Spine straight, shoulders back, Mari faced Finn Murphy. He’d moved closer. Mari eyed the distance, noted the gun at his hip. If she moved fast, could she—

“Strip.”