so hard to handle. She’s tiny, but she’s got big, ripe…’’
The cage door swung open, and Wes felt his heart stop in midbeat. Suddenly there was no air, no town, no drunk beside him. All he saw were her eyes staring at him with total hate. The blue depths that had been filled with kindness only minutes ago now were wide with panic and fear. The terror of a child blended with the hatred of a woman as she watched him.
For a moment he hesitated, wondering if she truly was insane and if he’d do her any good by setting her free.Maybe this life, as terrible as it seemed, was better than her dying if left on her own.
She backed away as he and the driver stepped into the cage. Her dress caught in her movements, pulling the material from one shoulder. Bruises were plain even in the shadowy light. Wes closed his eyes. With all he’d seen in the war and since, he wasn’t sure he could bear to know how completely she’d been harmed.
The drunk knelt and began unlocking the ring that held her wrist chains. ‘‘Go ahead, get yourself a good feel. She ain’t going to do nothing but scream and that’ll let them know we’re coming. It don’t matter if you bruise her. She don’t talk none. She ain’t going to tell anyone. Grab you a good handful.’’
Wes took a step toward her.
The creature looked as if she might bolt and run the moment her chained wrists were free. She raised her hands and shook her head wildly.
The driver laughed. ‘‘Go ahead. Slap her a good one to let her know you mean business. There ain’t nothing feels better then getting a tight hold on a ripe woman. Since you paid twenty, I’ll even hold her if you like. That way you can slip your hands up her dress.’’
Without thought Wes swung toward the man. With one blow, he knocked the drunk out the open cage door and onto the ground.
The woman let out a soft cry and covered her face as though she thought she would be his next victim.
Wes backed out of the cage and tapped the driver with the toe of his boot. The man was out cold. Unswallowed whiskey blended with blood and dripped from his open mouth, but his withered fingers still held the bottle tightly.
Glancing into the cage, Wes met her stare once more. She still shook, but no longer looked at him with hate. The fear was there, the panic-but he’d won an ounce of respect in her eyes.
‘‘Come on,’’he whispered as he raised his hand slowly to her. ‘‘I’ll get you out of this mess.’’
Wes had no idea where he would take her, or how he would handle her if she truly were crazy. Only one fact remained certain: he couldn’t leave her here. Not alone. Not with this man. Not as a curiosity for the town.
‘‘I won’t hurt you.’’He tried to make his voice calm.‘‘I’m only trying to set you free.’’
She hesitated a second then bolted toward him. In a heartbeat, she’d jumped into his arms, holding him so tightly Wes wasn’t sure if she was hugging him or trying to choke him.
‘‘It’s all right.’’ Through his rage at her captors, he forced out the words. ‘‘It’s all right.’’ Awkwardly, he patted her back and felt her tense beneath his touch. He didn’t have to look to know there would be whelps beneath her dress.
‘‘I’ll get you out of here.’’He wrapped one arm about her waist and lifted her a few inches off the ground as he moved around the wagon. ‘‘Do you understand?’’
She didn’t answer or lessen her hold on him.
As he felt her tears on his throat, someone from the street yelled, ‘‘Hey you! Turn loose of that woman!’’
Wes swung around. A huge man in black was running toward him. The bearded man waved a long staff over his head like a weapon. His great coat flew around him, reminding Wes of the wings of a bat flying through the darkness.
‘‘Let her go! She’s my ward.
Wes wrapped his arms around her legs and lifted her as he turned away. He felt her fear pounding against his heart and couldn’t help but wonder how many times the long stick had been used across her back. She shook with terror, telling Wes plainly that this man in black was the preacher who planned to put her on stage tonight.
‘‘Let her go!’’ The minister reached the alley entrance with several men only a few feet behind him. ‘‘Stop him! He’s kidnapping her!’’
The creature’s weight did little to slow Wes down. She clung so tightly, he knew she wouldn’t leave his arms if he let go of her. She was far more afraid of the huge man with the stick than of him.
Years of battles during the war served him well. He’d stayed alive by never hesitating. His movements now were swift and purposeful.
Just as he reached his horse, the preacher ran past the wagon. ‘‘Shoot him! He’s stealing my property!’’
Wes swung onto his saddle with the sound of metal clearing leather. He kicked his mount into action as bullets danced past his head and ricocheted off the brick wall in front of him.
The powerful animal beneath him jerked wildly in panic. Shots echoed down the alley and back. With one hand around the woman’s waist and the other twisted firmly in the reins, Wes leaned forward, protecting her as he kicked the horse into a run.
Ride!he screamed in his mind as the voices faded in the background.Ride!he commanded himself as hot fiery pain shot through his back. Ride!
The night loomed black and silent, with no sign of civilization in sight. Allie felt as if her arms might fall off at any moment. She’d held the tall man in the saddle for hours. Judging from the sky, it would be dawn soon. But she wasn’t sure he had enough life left in him to see its coming.
Somehow he’d managed to stay in control of the halfwild horse until they were well away from the town. But she felt the blood, warm and thick along his back, and knew with each pounding of hooves his life passed.
With all her strength, she pulled on the reins. To her surprise, the horse obeyed, stopping in a wooded area with tall undergrowth all around. It didn’t matter where they were; they had to rest.
Allie slipped from the saddle and tried to catch the man who had taken her from the cage.
But his body weighed too much for her, and they both fell to the ground as he toppled over. With sudden panic, she shoved him from her and rolled away.
He didn’t move.
Run,she thought. Now might be her only chance to get away. She could survive off the land.She’d done it before.This might be her only chance at freedom. She would live once more without cages or chains.
The man has passed to the next life, she told herself. He doesn’t move. She could take his horse and be into the hills by nightfall. He would have no use for a horse. If he lived, the preacher’s men would catch up to them soon. If she kept running, maybe the posse would be satisfied with catching him and leave her to her hills.
Allie moved toward the horse, forcing herself not to look back. She didn’t even know if he was a good man or a bad one. After all, the Rangers who’d captured her had said they were good and treated her kindly. But they gave her over to the reverend. The women at the first fort had given her this dress, then laughed at how she looked in it. She couldn’t tell good from bad anymore. It was safer to be alone.
He’s dead, she thought, without looking at him.He must be dead. He won’t mind my taking the horse and supplies.
Running her hand along the leather of the saddle, she felt where he’d worn down the design. It was a fine quality saddle, she guessed. And a fine horse. The gun he wore strapped to his leg looked worth a fine bargaining also.
She glanced at him. If he didn’t need the horse, he wouldn’t need the gun.
Slowly, she retraced her steps. He was so still he might already have stopped breathing. She moved to his side and knelt. If she had anything to give him, she’d trade. Even if he were already dead, she would leave a trade if she had something.
As Allie touched the cool handle of the weapon, he moved slightly. She jumped back.
For a long moment she watched him. He still breathed, she decided. Watching closely, she saw the slight rise and fall of his chest. He might live. If he’d been planning to hurt her last night, he deserved to die. But if he’d been helping her, if his whispered words to her were true, she owed him her life.
She had to take the chance. She must help him… at least until she knew.
