The Ranger Takes a Bride (17 page)

Chapter Twenty

They
didn't stop for lunch, but rode for hour after long hour. Sometimes on the road, sometimes through the forest. Hunger gnawed at Alejandra. It had been a long time since that simple mug of atole before dawn. Her stomach let out a loud growl, and she felt her jailor shift behind her. He pulled a fistful of thick jerky slices from his saddle bag. With a yank that almost snapped her neck, he pulled the gag out of her mouth so it hung loose above her shirt collar. She couldn’t stop a moan as her bound hands crept up to touch the raw skin around her lips.

He pushed a chunk of meat into her hand, and Alejandra scrambled to catch it. If it fell to the ground, he probably wouldn't stop to pick it up…or give her a second piece. The man ripped off a bite of another with his teeth. He chomped like a cow chewing corn, smacking his gums in a way that grated on her nerves.

She stared at the piece of dark beef in her hand. The thought of eating food from the hand of these foul men took away her hunger, especially with the noises emanating from the rude bull behind her. But she had to keep up her strength if she was to have any thought of escaping. And who knew when she would have another chance to eat? The sun had crested the peak of the sky a while back. Would they stop for dinner tonight? Surely these men would take time to fill their own bellies.

Eyeing the meat again, she bit off a corner. Or tried to. It was more salt than anything, but she had to saw the hardtack back and forth a few times before her teeth finally broke through. She didn't hurry through the "meal," but after a few bites her stomach remembered its hunger. She fought the urge to scarf down the rest, forcing herself to chew every bite fully. If nothing else, it gave her something to do while time passed, and kept him from putting the gag back in place. The moment she put the last piece in her mouth though, the desperado behind her yanked the dirty cloth back over her chin.

"Oh…" Alejandra couldn't help the sound that escaped as he scraped his claws over the skin on her face, compressing her jaw bones with his rough efforts. At last, he must have been satisfied with the gag, because his hand trailed back down to her waist, lingering over everything it touched on the way down. Alejandra's entire body tensed, the pain on her face erased by the burn of his touch. Rage coursed through her veins, and it took every bit of self-control to keep herself from wrenching out of his arms. He seemed to sense it, for his hand settled around her midsection again, his grip tightening at her side. She'd never escape through a struggle. The only way out would be through outsmarting these despicable men.

What was happening back at the ranch? How long had it taken before they’d missed her? Mama Sarita had told her to spend the morning at the river, so it may be after lunch before someone came to look for her. Did that mean they might just now be finding her horse tied to the tree? Would they suspect she'd been kidnapped? Or think she'd gone for a walk and gotten lost, or maybe fallen into the river? A weight settled over Alejandra as she realized how many possible scenarios they might imagine for her disappearance. What were the odds of them realizing what had really happened, and tracking this band of desperados over these many miles? The likelihood was almost non-existent. Alejandra inhaled a breath. If she had any chance of survival or escape, it was up to her.

The sun was hidden behind the trees on the far horizon when they left the road again and split off into a trail through the woods. There had been no whistle this time to signal an oncoming traveler. Were they preparing to make camp?

She watched for signs of their destination, and the trail finally opened into a small clearing where a little shack huddled in the center. The man called Cisco had already dismounted beside a hitching rail and lifted the saddle from his horse's back as the rest of them filed into the open area.

The man holding Alejandra dismounted, sliding her down with him. She scrambled to catch her footing, but her feet had gone numb hours ago from the horn poking into her legs. Now, they were useless. Fear washed through her as she sank to her knees. But her captor seized her arm and jerked her upright.
Come on, feet. Move.

Tossing his reins to another outlaw, he half-drug half-carried her toward the shack, her limp feet dragging the ground and tangling in her full skirts. The man shouldered the door open, then jerked to a stop at the threshold. Alejandra tried again to gather her feet under her. They were coming alive now, shooting prickles of pain through both legs.

The man strode forward again, dragging her with him. Alejandra scrambled, and this time was able to limp along beside him. Stopping in front of a round heating stove, he pushed her to the ground beside it, her dirty brown skirt billowing around her. Was the metal of the stove hot? She scooted away from it.

"Sit down," he growled.

He extracted a rope from his pocket, yanked her skirt aside to reveal the skin just above her boots, then tied her legs together. The rough leather cord bit into her still-stinging skin, and she had to grip her lip between her teeth to keep from crying out. After knotting the rope tight, he pulled her legs close to the iron leg of the stove. Alejandra shrank back, preparing herself for the searing heat from the iron. Her flesh met cool metal, and she almost wilted in relief.

With a jerk, the man grabbed the rope that bound her wrists and peered at it, pulling it close to his face as he squinted. Did he see any marks? She'd fumbled with the cord some while they rode, but couldn't get her finger anywhere near the knot. He fiddled with the tie, his beady eyes roaming from the leather to her face, then back to the leather.

At last, he threw down the rope, jerking her hands in the process. "You be a good girl, querida. Sì? After holding you all day, it won't be long before I come back to claim you as mine." His snicker sent a shiver through her. He cupped her cheek and ended her torment with a pinch before he rose to his feet.

As he strode out the door, her shoulders sagged for the first time since her capture. She’d refused to let them read defeat in her posture, but nobody watched now. She scanned the room, her eyes taking in every feature. The only light that filtered in came through a greased-paper window near the front door. Stark walls and dirt floor. Just like the shanty she and Papa had shared at Rancho Las Cuevas. Except this room held none of the homey warmth she'd worked so hard to create there. A cook stove sat in the far corner, with two shelves hanging on the wall near it. On the back wall beside her, a rear door was held shut by a simple leather tie strap. In the center of the room, a long table dominated, with six mismatched chairs around it. Aside from the heating stove she was tied to, no other furniture filled the small space. Nothing that promised escape.

If she could somehow free her hands and legs, maybe she could hit the men with the frying pan on the stove. The chairs didn't look sturdy enough to do much damage. But how to get rid of the leather binding her wrists? Alejandra worked the strap up and down over the smooth metal of the stove leg. Maybe if she rubbed it long enough, she could wear the strap thin so it would break.

But after several minutes of forceful scraping, the leather didn't look any thinner, and her wrists wore angry red lines from the effort. The front door flew open, banging against the wall. Alejandra jerked away from the stove, and shrank back into the shadows as three outlaws poured into the room.

The youngest of them grabbed a tin bucket from beside the cook stove, then left the cabin again. A chunky man pulled a canister from a shelf and set to work dumping ingredients into some of the pans on the stove. The third man, the oldest in the group if the salt flecks in his hair spoke true, carried an armload of logs, and proceeded to build a fire in the cook stove. The chunky man barked a few indecipherable words at his partner—probably trying to speed up the fire-making, as the men worked practically on top of each other—but the
anciano
just grunted. 

Neither of them spared a glance at Alejandra. Maybe she could keep trying to rub through the rope at her hands. Shifting her body slightly so it blocked her actions from their view, she sawed up and down on the metal surface. When the older man slammed the stove door shut, Alejandra jumped.

As he disappeared out the front door, the youngest man came in carrying the bucket—full of water it appeared. Her captors kept up a steady stream in and out of the cabin for the next several minutes. Each time someone passed by her, Alejandra stopped sawing the leather rope and tried her best to melt into the metal of the stove she was tied to. The way their eyes roamed over her body, it was as if they looked right through her clothing, leaving her dirty and defiled.

The chunky man at the stove was the only one who ignored her. An aroma drifted into Alejandra's awareness while she sawed at the leather. Coffee. And corn. Was he making atole? Or cornbread? Corn tortillas? Her stomach rumbled as her mind churned. She had to stop thinking about food, or she would drive herself loco.

Chunky pushed the frying pan to the back burner on the stove, then wiped a hand on his pants leg and strode out the door.

Alejandra stopped rubbing the rope long enough to examine the leather at her hands. There was barely a hint of a shiny spot on the coarse surface. Her heart plummeted. At this rate, it might take all night to rub through the leather. And the knot in her stomach reminded her she wouldn't be tied here when night fell. These desperados had plans for her. Awful plans.

Panic welled in Alejandra's chest, like a wild animal clawing to escape. She would be ravaged by these men. And then, quite likely murdered. If she were lucky. Was this the way God intended it? Had he brought her this far only to let her be molested and killed by these savages?

Sometimes things happen that don't make sense, and it's hard to believe God can love us and still let those things happen.

Anna's words from before Navidad came back like a thought spoken in her mind. What had she said next?

But God has a plan…to give you a hope and a future.

A hope and a future? From where Alejandra sat now, her future looked pretty dim. Could God really save her from this? Did she dare ask him to help? After all the years she'd nurtured bitterness and anger toward God, would He listen to her at all?

Alejandra inhaled a shaky breath.
God, if You’re listening, and if You care…I'm in trouble here. If you don't hate me…please, save me?

She sat very still waiting for a sign. Something to show her prayer had made it up to God's ears. Something to prove He listened. Or cared.

But, Alejandra…
Anna's words again, as clear as if her friend were sitting beside her in this barren shack …
moving forward into that future requires forgiving God for the past.

The knot tightened in Alejandra's stomach. Forgive God? For her mother's murder? For the terrible things that happened to them both? For letting Papa die? For stripping her of everything and everyone she loved?

Like images of scenery flying by from the back of a racing horse, visions flashed through her mind. Edward. Mama Sarita. Anna. Emmaline. One after another, they paraded. Appearing and disappearing in her memory's eye. She had so many good people in her life now. People she'd come to care deeply about. Was life at the O'Brien ranch the hope and future God had given her? And would He now take it away?

…
moving forward into that future requires forgiving God for the past.

Forgive God. Could she really forgive God for her past? Alejandra drew her knees up in front of her and dropped her forehead to rest on them. This rock of bitterness in her heart had grown so large, the ache of it radiated through her body. She was tired of fighting. Tired of hating. Tired of trying to control. Tired of running.
God, I'm sorry. I don't know what's right anymore. I've blamed You for all the bad. I don’t understand it, but I'm tired of hating You. Can You forgive me? Will You help me? I want that hope and future Anna says You have for me. And I want to be on Your side.

An overwhelming peace washed through Alejandra like rain, leaving behind a clean
that started from the inside and worked its way out. Gone was the violated feeling left by the outlaws' stares. Gone was the fear that had dogged every step since she was twelve years old. Only a stillness in her soul. A lightness like she'd never experienced. A joy she wanted to hold onto.

Chapter Twenty-One

She
didn't have long to enjoy the peaceful feeling, because the front door crashed open again, and all six men tromped in. After tossing aside hats and coats, they each grabbed a plate and mug from a shelf, filled them from pans at the stove, and settled into the rickety chairs around the table.

All except one man, who pulled his chair close to the lone window. The meager light that eked through the dirty paper illuminated skin so dark it almost matched the black of his hair. She could just see the tip of a rifle barrel that rested across his lap. Did they think someone followed them? Or did the group always live in fear of being discovered, even in this remote hideout?

As the men ate with grunts and slurping sounds, Alejandra's stomach rumbled again. She pressed her arm into it. The last thing she wanted was to draw these outlaws' attention to herself. But the vulgar man whom she'd ridden with all day stopped eating and eyed her, a twisted smile parting his mouth. "Hungry, querida?" But he didn't make a move to feed her, only raised his mug to his lips and gulped. He never stopped watching her, though, and the gleam in his eye raised bumps on her arms.

Alejandra hunkered into as much of a ball as she could with her legs tied to the stove and her wrists bound together.
God, I'm trusting you, but this is hard.

The meal lasted for hours. At least it felt like it did. With all these men in the shack, the room seemed to shrink until there was no air left to breathe. Just evil that filled the void, pressing into her pores, trying to steal away her new peace.

God, I'm trusting you.
She spoke it like a mantra in her mind. Over and over, so she didn't have to look at these vile men. Didn't have to think about what they had planned next. She’d take good soldiers like Edward any day instead of banditos malvados like these.

Edward. An ache pierced her soul. Would she ever see him again?

Suddenly, a crash split the air as the door beside Alejandra exploded inward. Chairs flew backward as the desperados around the table jumped to their feet. Gunshots exploded in the air, and men swarmed the room. Bodies fell to the ground. Some lay still, others grappled in pairs with fists flying. She glimpsed silver on one man's chest. Soldiers.
Gracias, Dio!

A man crashed to the ground right in front of Alejandra. His familiar face was turned to her, eyes rolled back in his head. That man. The vile one who'd promised to do all those wicked things to her. A breath of relief escaped her lips, even as she scrambled as far away from his lifeless body as her bonds would allow. She tucked her face into her shoulder as chaos took over around her.

God had sent help, but would she survive the bullets whizzing around her?

~ ~ ~

Edward
blinked at the sight of the woman huddled by the stove. But a blow slammed into his shoulder, and he spun to face the assault. A dark-skinned man must have been thrown into him, and now picked himself up like a bull, ready to charge again. In two strides, Edward grabbed the man's arms, and spun him around so they were crossed behind him. The hombre struggled, but he was a young, skinny fellow and looked like he might have had the sense knocked out of him before he was thrown into Edward.

Dragging him out, Edward handed him over to Parker, who was watching two of their other prisoners at the edge of the yard. Another shot sounded inside the cabin, and Edward sprinted back in. From his first count, there should only be three outlaws left inside, and he'd seen one of them fall dead in front of the woman captive. A lump settled in his stomach. Had they arrived soon enough to save her from real harm? She'd been curled in a ball, but the glimpse he'd caught of her rich black hair brought out that ache in his chest for Alejandra. He couldn't think about her now. No distractions.

He peeked around the doorway before entering, so he could get the positions of his men and the outlaws. Every Ranger who valued his life knew better than to charge into a room where bullets were flying. McLellan was tying the hands of a stout Mexican who was giving him an ear-full, and Cap bent over the body of a tall, lanky man. That had to be Garza. According to the Wanted poster, the man was "six feet, one inch and of lean stature." Other than the kid, this man was the only one who could pass for lean.

Edward turned his attention to the woman by the stove, still curled in a ball with her head tucked into her shoulder. Stepping to her side, he gentled his voice. "Ma'am. Everything's okay now. We're Texas Rangers, and those outlaws..."

She turned to face him, and Edward's words froze. His brain refused to process what his eyes took in.

Those wide eyes, so dark and expressive. That face, every delicate feature. Now dirty and disheveled.

Alejandra.

She was gagged and bound, but a sound leaked through the thick cloth in her mouth. Was that his name?

He dropped to his knees and gathered her in his arms. "Alejandra. How?"

She burrowed in his chest, her warmth flooding him with a torrent of emotion. How did she get here? She was supposed to be safe at the ranch.

"Alejandra." He breathed in her scent.

She squirmed, and he pulled back a few inches. The rag tied around her mouth spurred him into action.

"I'm sorry." He whispered the words while he eased his knife under the fabric at the back of her head. She cringed when the blade pulled the cloth tighter.

With the gag off, he made short work of the rope that bound her hands, then the strap above her boots. The angry marks where the coarse leather had dug in sent a fresh spurt of anger through his veins. He'd see every one of those low-lives hang.

The moment Alejandra was freed, she turned to face Edward and catapulted into his arms. The force almost knocked him backward, but he caught himself, and folded her in his body. So tight.

Oh, God. Thank You. She's alive.
But how did she get here? What had they done to her? He'd get those answers soon.

But for now, nothing mattered more than holding her. Alejandra. How was it possible to love this much?

~ ~ ~

Alejandra
pressed deeper into Edward's embrace. With every breath, she inhaled him. His strength. His security. Resting her head against his chest, she settled into the steady drum of his heartbeat. He was here. He'd saved her.

Or rather, God saved her.
Gracias, Dio. Muchas gracious.

A smile pulled at Alejandra's mouth, and she snuggled deeper into Edward's hug. Her eyes drifted closed.

He tightened his hold, and the soft touch of his lips caressed the top of her head. "Alejandra." His whisper was the sweetest sound she'd ever heard.

Before she was ready, he loosened his grip and leaned back to look at her. With his free hand, he lifted her chin so he could see her face. The gentlest of touches. "What happened? How did you get here?"

The question brought back the whole awful ordeal in a frightening blur. She bit her lower lip to stop it from trembling. Here in Edward's arms, with God on her side, she was safe. "I went to the river this morning, and they found me there. They tied me so I couldn't run or cry for help. We rode all day until we reached this place."

"Did they…hurt you?" Edward's voice thickened so much the last words seemed to strangle him as they escaped.

Alejandra swallowed, her eyes dropping to the buttons marching down his shirt. For a moment, her heart relived the filth of their stares, and bumps rose on her arms. "If you had not come, I..." Her words were barely more than a whisper.

Edward's hand slid from her chin to her cheek, cradling it in the warmth of his work-roughened fingers. Her gaze wandered up to his, and the emotion there was her undoing. Those brown eyes pooled with concern. Moisture rose into her own eyes, stinging her throat as it traveled up. She nibbled her lip to keep the liquid at bay, but a single tear broke through her barrier.

Edward's thumb swept it away, and he lowered his forehead so it rested on hers. "I will never let them hurt you again." His words were a breathy whisper. A fervent promise. His chest vibrated with each passionate sound.

His head came lower, and his mouth claimed hers. Sealing the promise he'd spoken. His touch was warm. Soft. Strong. So richly sweet.

Alejandra was lost from the moment he touched her. His kiss took away every thought, every awareness. Everything…but him. When Edward pulled away, her mouth almost followed him. She blinked, her gaze finding his again. Those chocolate eyes were dark with intensity. The emotion there matched what stirred her own soul. A smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. "I've never been so happy to see a soldado."

He blinked, then his gaze searched hers. He must have liked what he found there, because his own mouth curved upward. "I'm glad. You know, it was God that brought me to you."

Alejandra swallowed, that same peace flooding her veins again. "I know. I prayed, Edward. Told Him I wanted His help to forgive. I trusted Him." Tears burned her eyes again, as the enormity of what happened struck her. She'd trusted God to save her, and He had. The ordeal was over, and she had little more than a few rope burns. Joy erupted in her chest, flooding every inch of her body.

Edward's face matched her soul, moisture lighting his brown eyes. "I'm glad," he said again, pulling her to his chest in a fervent embrace. "So glad."

A knock at the open door interrupted the hug. Edward pulled back, stroking her cheek with the pad of his thumb, apology in his eyes. "I need to speak with my men, then we'll go home." He held her gaze a final moment, and something in his look promised they would finish this conversation later.

"Sì. All right."

He helped her stand, never removing his arm from around her waist. Alejandra leaned into him, especially when her feet didn't seem to work. As she scanned the room, it was empty. Where had all the men gone?

Edward turned toward the back door. A man with a Ranger star on his chest stood there, hands behind his back and head bent down to watch his feet scuff the ground. The man's cheeks had a red flush to them.

He cleared his throat. "Sorry to, uh…disturb you, Sarge." The man finally looked up at Edward. "We got 'em all tied. There's one dead, but the rest are either healthy or just banged up. Garza's fit as a house cat. We takin' 'em to Austin?"

"Yep. That's the closest jail with good security, and they've got a regular judge. These rats are gonna hang." His grip tightened around Alejandra's side, and she could feel the steel lacing his voice.

"All right." The other Ranger nodded, then shot a quick glance at Alejandra before looking back at Edward. "You, uh…gonna look after the captive?"

The tight muscles in Edward's arm softened, and his chest reverberated behind Alejandra's shoulder as he chuckled. "As long as I live, Lord willing. McLellan, I'd like you to meet Miss Diaz. She's been working on my sister's ranch." The steel reentered his voice. "I had no idea she was here until I saw her tied to that stove."

McLellan raised his brows. "Probably a good thing you didn't know."

Edward acknowledged the comment with a terse nod. "If you think you guys can handle the prisoners, I'll take Alejandra home."

McLellan clapped Edward on the shoulder. "We'll see to it, Sarge."

When the man strode out of the doorway, Edward turned back to Alejandra. His dark eyes softened, caressing her face. "It's going to be dark soon. The closest town is over an hour away. Think you can make it that far?"

Get back on another horse? Weariness settled into Alejandra's bones at the thought. But she could do this. She had to. Staying here was not an option.

But when she met Edward's concerned gaze, it wasn't hard to summon a smile. "I can make it."

His eyes creased at the corners. He pulled her close and planted a kiss on her forehead that started a longing in her chest. She almost grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him down for a real kiss, but settled with resting her hands on his chest. His heartbeat was strong under her palms.

Loosening his grip around her waist, Edward reached up to take her hand. "Come on." His voice was thick, gravelly. "My horse is this way." He stood motionless for another moment, as if he couldn't quite force himself to move. Then he turned and led the way outside. His grip on her hand never wavered.

Pepper waited with the other Rangers' horses at the edge of the clearing. Each of the outlaws were already mounted on their own animals. Her hold on Edward's hand tightened as she scanned their faces. The chunky man who'd cooked. The younger one who wasn't much more than a boy. The awful man with the vile tongue lay draped over his horse. Dead. She fought down a shiver, as Edward's thumb stroked the top of her hand.