Promise Me (30 page)

Jacob shoved her toward the wagon. “Get up there, on the seat. Keep quiet, and maybe I won't carve this man up like a holiday turkey.”

Amanda pulled herself up the side of the wagon until she finally settled onto the seat. The horses shied and took a step, and the wagon lurched forward.

“Get up there, Jacob, and make her grab those reins. I'll open the door. Be sure to keep that gun trained on her. She's a tricky one.”

Mr. Penny followed directions, holding the pistol carefully aimed at Amanda's stomach. She had an urge to fold her arms over herself protectively, imagining what a bullet could do to her unborn child. Instead she took up the leather traces.

Giving a click with her tongue and a shake of the reins, the team swept through the doors of the livery stable and out into the darkness of the night. The sounds of the Miners' Ball echoed at the end of town, and she knew most people were gathered there. The saloons were nearly deserted tonight. Jack Pruitt had planned this well. With all the excitement, it would be hours before anyone missed her.

Her mouth was dry as tumbleweed on a hot summer day, and she worked to keep tears from flowing down her cheeks. She realized she'd never see Sam again. He'd think she simply walked out of his life. Maybe he'd be relieved she was finally gone for good. She didn't think he'd come in search of her.

Jack climbed onto the buckboard. They paused just outside the livery stable. “Let's get goin', Jacob. The sooner we get her to the mine, the sooner we can get rid of her for good.”

The team continued down the street, and they were nearly at the outskirts of town when Amanda turned to take one last look at Willow Creek. A man was running after them, shouting her name.

A muscle twitched in Jacob Penny's cheek, and she slapped at the reins and tried to move the team faster. She recognized the voice, and she knew Sam was intent upon catching up to them. Amanda turned again to see his long legs stretching to cover the distance between him and the wagon.

Jacob was hidden in one corner, and Amanda was sure that in the darkness he wasn't visible.

“Go back, Calhoun. I want to escape from you and this stinking town forever.” She recognized the shrill note in her voice. It was fear.

They edged into the inky blackness scattered at the fringes of Willow Creek. Sam continued to call her name, and her heart pounded in her chest. She prayed he wouldn't reach them, knowing his fate would then be fatal as her own.

“Amanda—” He panted, catching the edge of the wagon and hauling himself up into the back. He struggled to catch his breath as he pulled himself to his knees. “You were right. I couldn't let you ride away and out of my life. I love you, Amanda.”

Tears slid down her face as she choked back a response. Why had he waited so long to utter the words she'd been waiting to hear? Now it was probably too late. A horrible sense of doom swept over her.

Jack Pruitt stood up, gripping the back of the seat. He aimed his rifle at Sam's heart. “Now, ain't that sweet? Since it appears you two don't want to live without each other, how about if I arrange for a double funeral?”

A look of shock, then horror, crossed Sam's face. He reached for the revolver at his side, but Jack's words stopped him.

“It would be just as easy to put a bullet in you now, Agent Calhoun, and toss you over the side of the ridge.”

Sam's hand shifted away from his gun, and Jack ordered him to toss the weapon into the back of the wagon. He settled down into a crouch, a grim look of satisfaction on his face.

“I've been keepin' my eye on you for a couple of weeks, Calhoun, and I've got to admit, you're a bigger fool than I ever imagined.”

Sam leaned back against the side of the wagon. “Because I waited so long to tell my wife how I really felt about her?”

Pruitt laughed and shook his head. “Who the hell cares about that sorta thing? No, Calhoun, you're a fool because you had one of the biggest fortunes in Montana at your disposal, and from what Jacob has told me, you haven't spent a cent of it.”

“I once told my wife I didn't give a damn for that money and it's still true.” He glared at Pruitt. “Haven't you ever found anything more important than wealth?”

Pruitt's lips settled into a thin, harsh line. “The only folks who can say that are the ones who have more than enough.” He gave a bitter laugh. “But soon, very soon, I'll be richer than those railroad tycoons back east. When the U.S. goes to the silver standard, I'll be selling my stockpile for more than gold. Me and my pals will be the ones wearing fancy clothes, with servants and grand houses.”

Sam braced one leg up against the side of the wagon and draped an arm across his knee. Amanda knew he was working hard to control his temper. She had to trust Sam, because he was the key to getting out of this predicament. Sam would take care of her.

The dark shapes of trees rushed past them, blending into the night. The road was rough, and Amanda began to recognize the direction they were taking.

She gritted her teeth at Mr. Penny. “Are we going out to the Silver Slipper Mine?”

Laughter cackled behind her, and she turned to see Jack grinning in the pale moonlight.

“It will take folks a long time to figure out where you are, and by the time they do, I imagine it'll be too late.

“Are you going to leave us out here, then?”

Jack ignored her question. In the silence, Amanda tried to steal another glance at Sam, but he was silent now, too, leaning back against the sideboards.

It was nearly an hour before they arrived at the mine. The buildings were outlined against the inky black sky. Stars shone above them. There wasn't a sound, because Amanda had declared a holiday and given everyone the night off. Now that she thought about it, the suggestion to do so had been made by Jacob Penny.

The horses slowed. They entered the yard, and Mr. Penny indicated she should bring them to a halt. Jack stood and ordered Sam out of the back of the wagon, then jumped down behind him. Sam hurried forward to assist Amanda as she climbed down, but Pruitt shoved the rifle between them.

“Leave her be.”

Amanda's toes touched the ground, and a sharp pain bloomed across the side of her cheek and she heard a ringing in her ears. Her knees melted beneath her and a small scream of surprise escaped her lips. She tumbled to the earth and into a pit of darkness.

Chapter Twenty-One

Sam could barely control the urge to jump forward and wr
estle the gun from the bastard who'd hit Amanda with the stock of his rifle. His rage was a live, angry, hot beast that curled through him, making his heart beat faster. The thirst for revenge was thick bile in his throat.

He moved forward and knelt down to carefully lift Amanda. When she stirred in his arms, he pulled her closer. He tried to wrap himself around her, providing protection and refuge by shielding her with his body. She cried out, and he whispered her name gently.

His wife needed to be his first priority, so he'd have to be patient and cautious. It was difficult to wait for an opportunity, but he hoped their captors would make a mistake. Sam would make sure it was their last.

He tried to ignore the ugly bruise forming on the side of Amanda's face. He worked to make his smile comforting. She shivered, then a single tear slid down her cheek, and he gritted his teeth. The more Amanda suffered, the harder it was for him to remain calm. If he didn't figure out a way to disarm the men holding them hostage, Amanda could die. Fear chilled his blood, and his heart banged a wild beat in his chest.

He had to quiet himself and remember his training. He couldn't let his emotions take over.

“Throw some water on her and wake her up.” Pruitt's voice was high pitched and demented.

“You do that and I'll strangle you with my bare hands, I swear it.” Sam's voice echoed in the darkness.

“You make big threats for a man with a shotgun aimed between his eyes.” Pruitt hung back, just out of arms' reach. Not that he'd drop Amanda to chase the son-of-a-bitch. Pruitt was obviously so deranged he didn't know what he was doing. The cruel glint in Jack Pruitt's eyes told him there would be no dealing with these two.

“Get away from him, Jack. Let's just do what we came for and get back to town.” Penny's voice was sharp.

Pruitt ignored his companion, then moved closer, reaching out to slap at Amanda's face. Rage percolated through Sam's body. He carefully leaned Amanda upon one arm, and with one quick push, he sent Pruitt spinning backwards onto the stones beneath their feet.

Jacob Penny stepped forward, his beady eyes dark with hatred, a thick line of spittle dripping from his mouth. “Get back.” He cocked the pistol he held tightly, and Sam closed his eyes. He waited for the smashing pain that would signal his death.

“Jacob, don't you dare kill ‘em. I want to do it,” Pruitt roared.

Sam opened his eye to find the two men huddled together, the gun still trained on him. “Move on into the mine, twenty paces.” Jacob Penny gestured with the barrel of the pistol. “I want to see you move past those timbers at the entrance.”

Sam gathered Amanda into his arms and she opened her eyes. She gave him a quizzical smile, and a few moments later her memory seemed to return. She twisted to look at the men standing in the dim light of the lantern.

“What's going on, Sam?”

“I'm not sure.” He kept his voice low and even while he carried her farther into the mine. His steps took them past the square-set heavy timbers at the opening that formed the headframe. They were nearly twenty feet into the mine when he settled her back upon her feet. “Can you run?” His words were a husky whisper.

“I think so.”

“Good, when we get past this next cross cot, we'll be in near total darkness. I want you to gather up your skirts, hang onto my hand, and run. Run like your life depended upon it.”

Because it probably does, Sam wanted to add. But they were still close enough to the mine entrance that he didn't want to take the chance of alerting their captors to his plan.

“Stop right there,” Jacob Penny demanded.

Not a chance. Sam knew the pistol was still trained on his back, but he would use his body to shield Amanda from the bullets. He could buy her some time to find a hiding place in the mine. With any luck, she could escape and stay hidden until morning.

“Now,” he urged her. “Run.”

Amanda took off, and the thud of her boots scrambling on the dirt floor echoed through the tunnel. Sam followed close behind her, his arm stretched to hold her hand. He waited for the blast of the gun.

Instead he heard the sound of laughter. When they were farther into the tunnel he stopped, pulling Amanda flat against the wall with him. He listened carefully to determine if they were being followed. The light at the entrance to the tunnel didn't waver.

“Run all the way to hell, because that's where you're headed anyway.” Pruitt's voice carried a ruthless tone. “This mine will be your grave.”

The cold edge of fear brushed Sam's spine. He wasn't helping them escape, he was sealing their fate. The crazed man's laughter rang through the dark stillness of the mine shaft.

“What is he talking about?” Amanda trembled as she stood flat against the damp wall.

“I'm not exactly sure, but darlin', do as I say.” He leaned down to kiss her on the top of her head. “I love you. God forgive me, if we manage to get out of this mess, I'm going to say it so many times each day you'll get tired of hearing it.”

Amanda lifted her face to him. “Those are words I'm never going to get tired of hearing, Samuel Calhoun.”

Sam quickly leaned down and touched his lips to hers. Then he gave her a nudge. “Run, darlin'. Keep to the edge of the rail and run like the devil is on your tail.” It wasn't far from the truth, if his instincts were correct; in a few moments all hell was going to break loose.

“Sam, there's just one thing. I've never told you this, but since I was a child, I've been—afraid of the dark.” She grabbed his hand and started running again.

He heard her breathing heavily and he worried about something appearing in the tunnel—a shovel, a bucket, the edge of the rail, anything that would trip her up. Running in the darkness was a dangerous ploy, but his battle-honed senses warned him there was real danger if they lingered near the mouth of the mine.

“I can't”—Amanda was slowing down—“go on much farther.”

“Keep going as long as possible.” His own lungs ached with the exertion of breathing the thin air. “Keep going.”

Sam looked back over his shoulder. The total darkness behind them was a sign they'd either made some progress, or their captors had left the mine.

He bumped into Amanda and reached out to make sure she didn't fall. “I can't.” Her words sandwiched between gasps for air.

“Not much farther, just walk if you have to.” He gave her another nudge, then stood in the darkness, waiting. There was a low, thin hiss. He craned his neck to capture the sound. It was familiar, yet he couldn't quite place the noise. Dawning realization suddenly hit him, and he turned to yell a warning to Amanda.