KIDNAPPED COWBOY (2 page)

But not her.  She knew there was hope for them, just as there had been hope for her all those years ago.  But she couldn’t help them if there was no retreat to bring them to.

She gritted her teeth, frustrated that she’d been driven to such lengths.  This was pretty much an act of desperation.  One Brandon Barnes had pushed her to.  She’d tried over and over to get in touch with him, to convince him to reconsider his decision to shut down the retreat, but the Ogre refused to return any of her calls or letters.  According to what she’d read in the local paper, they were scheduled to begin tearing down the cabins in less than a month.  That meant her time to save Stoney Brook had nearly run out, thus her one last attempt to get Brandon Barnes’ attention.  Well, she’d definitely done that now.   

Twisting around beneath her seatbelt, she eyed the hulking form that filled her backseat.  ‘The Ogre’ was folded up rather awkwardly, his face pressed against the car window, fogging it up with every breath he took.  An occasional snore told her he was asleep, or passed out.  Caitlin crinkled her nose in disgust.  He smelled like a brewery. 

Unbuckling her seatbelt, she pushed open the car door, greeted immediately by a gust of icy wind.  Grabbing for her purse, she slung it over her shoulder and then drew up the hood on her parka, protecting her face from the unrelenting cold.  Her gloveless fingers protested the sting of cold metal against warm flesh as she reached out to ease open the passenger door.

“Mr. Barnes,” Caitlin said as she caught his descending head in her hands.

He gave a tired groan and then his entire body stiffened.  He jerked away, sitting upright with a muffled grunt.

“We’re here,” she said and then stepped away from the car just enough to give him room to swing his long legs out.  “If you’ll just hold still for a moment, I’ll untie your feet so you can walk.”

He mumbled something behind the makeshift gag she could only assume was a curse, not that she blamed him, and then did as she asked.  She hurried to untie him, her chilled fingers fumbling with the rope.  Finally, it gave way and fell to the ground, settling into the crisp, wet snow.

The moment he was free he stood and jerked away.  Pitching the side of his head toward his shoulder, he made several attempts to dislodge the mask from his eyes. 

She let out a startled squeal and reached into her purse.  “Stop that, or....”  Or what?  Weapon in hand, she jabbed at his ribs. 

It worked.  He stopped struggling and just stood there, towering over her.  The falling snow clung to his dark hair and broad shoulders in a glistening coat of white. 

“Let’s get inside and I’ll start a fire.”  She closed the car door, leaving them bathed only in the reflection of the moonlight on the icy snow.

Her teeth knocked together as she guided him by a handcuffed arm toward the cabin. Once inside, she flicked on the lights and led him over to the sofa, backing him up to it.  “You can sit here.”

He mumbled again, this time with less agitation.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”  Caitlin reached up to remove her scarf from his mouth.  The warmth of his breath caressed her cold cheeks.

She looked up, getting her first real glance of the Ogre of Lone Tree.  It was as if someone had suddenly sucked all of the air out of the room.  She just stood there, gaping at him.

The Ogre’s head pivoted back and forth.  “Lady?  You still there?”

“Y....yes, I’m here.”

He was not at all what she’d expected.  He was supposed to have horns or fangs, or something befitting a man like Brandon Barnes.  A man who would tear down a camp that had turned around the lives of hundreds of troubled teens.  Hers included.

Instead, he was incredibly close to perfection from that firm, lightly whiskered jaw and chiseled nose to the worn tips of his leather boots.  The only thing she couldn’t see was his eyes, which were still hidden beneath her sleeping mask.  Hopefully they were flawed.  Crossed.  Bloodshot.  Something.  Brandon Barnes didn’t deserve to be rich
and
sexy.

“You forgot something,” he said, his voice deep and husky, the sound of which made her pulse race even faster.

“I...I did?” she stuttered nervously, stunned by her body’s reaction to the man responsible for pushing her into this extreme act of desperation.

“The mask.”  He lowered himself onto the edge of the sofa.  “You forgot to remove it.”

“Oh, that.  No, I didn’t.”  She walked over to the fireplace and grabbed a box of matches from the old pine mantle.  Then she knelt on the hardwood floor to light a fire. 

Her hunky captive laughed.  Not one ringing of pleasure, but one more laced with irritation.  “Are you telling me you’re gonna keep me blindfolded?  Is this some kind of kinky sex game you like to play with men?  Because if it is, I’m sure as hell not interested.”

She stood, her shoulders stiff with indignation, and turned to her captive, fully intending to give him a piece of her mind.  Instead, she found herself doing a visual tour of his hard, lean form.

He cleared his throat, interrupting her curious perusal.

Caitlin’s gaze snapped up to his masked face, warmth flooding her cheeks.  She’d been checking out Brandon Barnes.  How was that for completely losing it?  Thank heavens he was blindfolded.

“For your information, I do not play kinky s...sex games,” she replied, her chin notching upward.  She set her weapon of choice atop the small wooden table by the sofa and then shoved her hands into her coat pockets as she paced the room, trying to get warm.  “I just can’t let you see my face.”

“That bad, huh?”

She spun around to find him grinning.  “No, it’s not
that
bad!”  At least, she didn’t think so.  “I don’t want you to be able to identify me when this is over.”

“You should have thought about that before you let me see that tuna can of yours.”

“What?”

“Your car.  You remember it.  Baby blue compact with rust around the door handles and what looked to be a key hanging from the mirror.”

“How did you...?”

“I’m very observant.  That is, when I’m not blindfolded.”  He leaned back against the couch, hands still tucked securely behind him.

“Darn, darn, and double darn!”  She had never given that any thought.  If she had, she would’ve blindfolded him at his truck.

“Kind of puts a kink in things, don’t it?”  This time his smile was genuine.

She stepped forward and yanked the flimsy mask from his face.  “You are every bit the ogre that people say you are, Brandon Barnes!”

His blue eyes rounded and then a dark brow eased upward.  “Did you just say
Brandon Barnes
?”

“Yes.”  The fire crackled behind her, but she no longer had need of its warmth.  She was steaming.  “You do remember your name, don’t you?”

“Yep.”  A cocky grin moved across his face.  “And it’s not Brandon.  That’d be my brother.”

“No!” she gasped in horror.

He gave a husky chuckle.  “Looks like you went and kidnapped yourself the wrong man.”

This wasn’t happening.  “B...but the truck.”

“Borrowed.”

She grabbed the curling iron from the table and jabbed it at the opening in the front of his coat.  “That’s not true!” she gasped.  “You’re lying!”

“Afraid not.”  Then, his gaze traveled downward and the humor left his eyes.  “Son-of-a...”

She jumped back, the iron dropping to the floor at her feet.

His gaze followed it and then rose to meet hers.  “You kidnapped me with a curling iron?”

It was hard to look him in the face, but she made herself do so anyway.  “I don’t like guns.”

“Lucky for me,” he scoffed.  “Now what?  You gonna hold me for ransom?”

“Hmmm, now there’s a thought.”  Crossing her arms, she flashed him a grin.  “So tell me, how much does your brother like you?”

His expression darkened.  “Lady, you’re getting yourself in deeper and deeper.”

“I was just kidding.”  She shook her head.  “You don’t have much of a sense of humor, do you?”

A lone brow arched threateningly.  “Forgive me if I seem a bit pissed off, but I tend to get that way when I’ve been taken by gunpoint-”

“Curling iron,” she quickly corrected.

“Curling iron,” he growled.  “Hogtied, blindfolded, and stuffed into a car that was made to be driven by midgets in a circus.”

Her smile faded.  “Okay, so I messed up.

Now he knew she was crazy.  Dalton clenched his teeth in anger.  “I’d say you messed up big time.”

“I was desperate.”

“Lady-”

“Caitlin.”

“What?”

“My name is Caitlin.”

He looked up at her in amazement.  She actually thought they were going to exchange pleasantries after what she had just put him through? 

“All right, Caitlin, what is so dire in your life that you turned to kidnapping a man off the street in the middle of the night?  Hell, in the middle of a snowstorm.”

A look of guilt moved across her pretty face.  Dalton supposed if he was going to be kidnapped by anyone it might as well be by someone who was pleasant to look at.  Not some scar-faced, pug-nosed hood with bad breath.  And he’d been close enough to her to know hers was sweet with just a hint of peppermint.  Funny how the other senses kicked in when one was disabled.

She settled onto the sofa beside him with a sigh.  “It’s not my life.  Well, it is, but it’s not.”

It appeared this was going to take a while.  At least, the tequila was starting to clear from his head.  “Sorry, but I’m not following you.”

“Camp Stoney Brook, as you must know since your family owns it, is a retreat for wayward teens.”  She paused, looking around the small cabin room almost wistfully.  “I’ve devoted my life to running this place.” 

The biting wind rattled the windows as the storm picked up outside.  The fire flickered and snapped in the hearth in front of him as his mouth fell open. 

“Are you telling me we’re at Stoney Brook?”

She nodded.  “I thought you knew.”

This was incredible.  This woman had not only kidnapped him with a curling iron, she’d taken him to a place his family owned.

He shook his head.  “No, it’s been quite a few years since I’ve been out here.  I’ve been away riding the circuit.”

Her jade colored eyes rounded.  “That’s you?  The Dalton Barnes that took the rodeo circuit by storm?”

“The one and only.”

“I read about your dropping out.  Why’d you quit?  That is, if you don’t mind my asking.”

He had turned professional at twenty-one and now, ten years later, had finally given up the circuit and returned home to Montana. 

“That kind of life takes a toll on a man’s body.  I wanted out while it was on my own terms and not because I was getting too worn down to compete with some up and coming kid with his own set of dreams.”

“That’s understandable.  No one can blame you for wanting to remain in one piece.”

“Yeah, well the circuit was my life.  Leaving it was damn hard.”  He groaned.  Why in the hell was he discussing his career decisions with her?

She opened her mouth to reply, but the wind gusted outside, causing the cabin walls to creak and groan, distracting her from their conversation.

He followed her gaze to the front wall where the windows rattled violently against the force of the bitter, howling wind outside.  He frowned.  “Storm’s picking up.”

She nodded.  “I know.”

“Anyway, what does this crazy scheme of yours have to do with my brother?”

The look that came over her face was pained.  “He’s planning to shut down the camp and build a resort.  But I’m sure you already knew that.”

No, he didn’t.  He had walked out on the family business a long time ago in search of something that had been missing in his life...excitement.  Riding bulls had given him that.

Brandon had always been the one with a head for business, so as far as Dalton was concerned the family ranch and business investments were in good hands.

He shook his head.  “I’m not involved in the business end of things and plan to keep it that way.  What’s the big deal, anyway?”

Her expression was nothing short of appalled.  “The big deal is this camp has helped turn around the lives of a lotta troubled teens, taught them things no one else cared enough to take the time to teach them.  I should know.  I’m living proof of that.”

Now why didn’t that surprise him?  A grin moved across his face.  “I see.  And would that include lessons on how to kidnap people with curling irons?”

His last comment had her springing to her feet in anger.  “It’s all a joke to you, isn’t it?  You and your ogre of a brother!”

Grabbing her purse, his beautiful kidnapper started for the door.

“Hey, I was just kidding,” he called out.  “Where are you going?”

Surely, she wasn’t just going to drive off and leave him shackled there like that.  Considering the way things had gone for him that night, it was a definite possibility. 

She cast an indignant glance over her shoulder.  “I’m gonna warm up the car so I can take you back to town.”

He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, his bound arms aching.  “Look, I’m sorry I upset you.  I was just trying to make light of a bad situation.  I can see this place means a lot to you.”

Her stiffened posture slowly relaxed.  “More than you’ll ever know.  I...I’d better go get the car started.”

He shot to his feet, wavering slightly in an attempt to catch his balance.  “Caitlin...”

“Yes?”

“Do you think you could take these handcuffs off me first?  This isn’t the most comfortable position to be in.”

“I...I’d better not.”

“Why not?  I’m the wrong guy, remember?  There’s no need for these anymore.”

“You’re a lot bigger than me.  Not to mention angry with me.  If I let you go, you might—”

He cut her off.  “Look, I don’t hurt women.  That’s not saying I’m thrilled to be in this predicament, but I’ve never laid a hand on a woman in anger and I sure as hell don’t intend to start now.”

“I really am sorry for the mix up.”

“I know you are.”

She quickly added, “But I don’t regret having done what I could to keep the retreat open.  This was my last hope, and I messed it up royally.”