A Ransomed Heart Read online

  Logan drew a deep breath as he turned back around to face her. She was not what he expected at all. At best he had hoped for a woman able to ride a horse, this girl looked able to break one. Her dress was made of fine silk and her demeanor was that of a queen, surely he had the right woman. She was what he needed and he was going to use her to his advantage, she just needed to know who was boss. Taking on his usual cool manner he pulled off his bandana and whistled a casual tune as he walked her way. When he got nearer to her he could see she was trembling. Mistakenly he figured she was afraid, but when he stopped and observed her he could see every muscle in her body was flexed. A faint smile played on his lips as he gave her a once over. She was incredibly beautiful and very young, it would not be hard to get what he was looking for, and no one would give up such a prize.

  “What do you want?” Her voice burned the air a bit with its staccato sound.

  A wicked smile flashed across his face showing a line of perfect white teeth. “You.”

  Like a lightning bolt her hand shot from her side and slapped him hard across the face. The sound reverberated around them. Logan winced a bit then his face took on an amused tone. This was going to be fun. From behind him Kit handed over a burlap bag and Logan swiftly slipped it over her head, the same moment Kit caught her from behind with both hands. She tried to escape but both men were more than she could contend with. Logan winked at Kit and he returned with a hesitant look, she was possibly a bit more than they could handle.

  Annabelle never took her eyes off his face and reveled in his look when her hand made contact. This man would know she was a force to be reckoned with. His steely blue eyes were the last thing she saw before the bag thrust her vision into hazy blackness. Even then she refused to give up and gave the man behind her a swift kick in the shins. She heard several men chuckle and then the creaking of leather saddles. Someone was unhitching the team and she knew they would be leaving. Then seconds later she was being lifted up in front of a man. He positioned her very securely between his chest and the neck of his mount. She grimaced and pulled as far away as possible. Her heart began to sink as the animal moved underneath her. Where were they taking her? What would they do with her? And would her Mr. Sevier get to her before any damage could be done?

  Chapter 3

  Jean Mousse arrived at RS Ranch in the early evening, weary and sunburned. It was a miracle he had made it at all. The man was not accustomed to riding a horse, and he rarely paid attention to where he was going in the stage. He worked for Robert Sevier, the owner of the ranch, and he did and went where the man told him to. The black bowler hat he usually wore had fallen off along the way so he closed his eyes and let the animal take him home. Nothing looked more beautiful than the front porch of Mr. Sevier’s ranch house.

  The tired animal came to a halt near the front door and Mr. Mousse slid down hitting the ground on his wobbly legs. Pain shot up his inner thighs and he grimaced with his first few steps. A stable hand came for the horse and looked at him strangely, Mousse shot him a killer look and the boy lowered his eyes and took the horse for a drink and a rub down. Mousse steadied himself on the railing and eased up the stairs. He had almost reached the door when an expectant Robert Sevier opened it. The look on Mousse’s face spoke more than words and Sevier glared out behind him looking for the carriage and his expectant bride. Neither was to be seen. Mousse pushed his way into the house which was teeming with guests.

  The room was large and full of all manner of people. Women in formal dresses, their hair piled on top of their heads. The men wore straight black jackets and ribbon bow ties, their hair neatly combed and their mustaches trimmed to perfection. Mousse felt out of place with his dusty clothes and ragged features. These were Mr. Sevier’s business associates and friends. Mr. Mousse knew they were coming, but in his most recent ordeal he had forgotten. Embarrassed he dipped his head at those closest to him and hurried through the crowd and down the hall towards Mr. Sevier’s study. He could feel his boss’s heavy footsteps behind him and knew he was in trouble.

  Robert M. Sevier slammed the door behind him as he bore holes in his assistant’s head. What was going on and where was his bride? He hoped there was a very good excuse because he would have hated to kill someone on such a fine evening. Mousse faced him, his mustache quivering on his face, his eyes black and beady. If the man wasn’t so good with finances he would have let him go a long time ago; he had never given any reason to be sent away, but this may just be a good enough reason. You don’t just lose a young woman.

  “Jean, where is the girl?” His eyes were wide, his voice dangerously low.

  Mousse didn’t say anything but drew the letter from his breast pocket and handed it over.

  The paper was wrinkled and dusty but Mr. Sevier ripped it open and read the scrawling handwriting:

  Mr. Sevier,

  I have acquired something that belongs to you. She will stay in my possession until I receive a ransom for her. I assume she is worth a lot to you so my sum will need to be $100,000. I expect to see the money in one week. You will meet us at the Sage River crossing at high noon where we can exchange your wife for my money. Do not take this lightly; I have no qualms against killing her and announcing your secret engagement to those who respect you. Wouldn’t it be humiliating for them to know you had to pay a woman to be your wife? $100,000 in seven days, you decide.

  LB

  “Who gave this to you?” He waggled the parchment in front of the mousy man.

  Mousse shrugged his shoulder and felt his heart pick up a beat. “I couldn’t see their faces.”

  Sevier snarled and slammed the letter down on his oak desk. The room was ornately decorated with sturdy furniture and great Persian rugs. The whole house looked the same, the best money could buy. His property sprawled over the entire valley floor and overlapped Sage Creek, the only water supply in town. He had more money than many could hope for, and the girl was really the only treasure he still wanted. Not only was she beautiful she opened the door to a whole new world. She was his key to expanding his empire over the whole valley floor. He could not afford for her to be hurt, or lost. Concern pulled at his blue eyes and he turned to face his assistant again.

  “Was she hurt, is she ok? His voice was still tight but held some gentleness.

  “We took quite a tumble. The driver is dead; he was crushed when the stage fell over.”

  Sevier’s eye widened.

  “The left back wheel came loose and so we crashed to the ground. It happened so quickly I didn’t even realize what had occurred until we were lying on the ground. Miss Casey was well enough to climb out the window; she was madder than a cat and I think she would have scratched their eyes out if she could have.”

  The concern lessened a bit and Sevier’s mouth pulled up a little at the corners. He knew she could be feisty, he was fine with that, but he was still worried she may be hurt.

  “So you think she was fine?”

  Mousse nodded and closed his eyes, gently rubbing his sunburned face with his wrinkled hands. This was going better than he had expected. After all it wasn’t his fault Annabelle had been abducted. Sure he could have rebelled or fought for her, but she was just a woman, even if she was beautiful. Sevier was far calmer than he had expected, he attributed that a bit to his guests. The room was quiet for a moment then Mr. Sevier excused himself. When he returned he had a different expression on his face, one of determination.

  His guests had been sent to dinner and now he needed to compose himself before he faced them again. To his credit he had not announced his intention to marry, he had planned that for tonight. It was not unusual for him to throw a party so none of those in attendance even suspected things were not going as planned. He ran his hands though his gray-blond hair and closed his eyes; he rested his head on the door frame for just a moment before returning to Mr. Mousse. He needed a plan and it would need to be good. This was the first time in a long time he felt cornered, and he didn’t like that feeling.

/>   Memories flashed in his mind of another time and place when he had been against the wall. The old anger bubbled in his stomach and he forced it down, keeping it under control. That is what he had, patience and control, and he would use it. He also had money and if it came to that he would gladly pay for the return of his stunning young bride. She was, of course, worth every cent, but he had paid enough for her and the idea of giving more pulled at the proverbial tight apron strings. Pushing the door open he smiled warmly at Mousse, the man still filled a need and he would not hold this kidnapping against him. The one that was responsible, however, would surely pay for this inconvenience.

  Mr. Mousse relaxed when he saw the change in Sevier’s countenance. He could also see the resolve in those eyes, something he knew well. When Robert Sevier had a plan he stuck to it. The room was comfortable now even in the thoughtful silence and he waited to hear the plan.

  Robert sat in the chair behind his desk and rested his arms on the polished wooden top. One hand brushed across his mouth and he nodded his head in agreement with his inner thoughts. It was going to work.

  “We’ll pay the money.”

  Mousse’s mouth dropped open a bit and he just gaped at the man across the desk.

  Sevier nodded again. “Nothing is more important than her safety, we will pay the money.”

  “But…” Mousse stammered.

  “No, you know where it is, get it together; you will be delivering it, get some rest and ice those legs.” The chair squeaked across the floor as he stood and moved to the door. His hand paused for just a moment before he turned the knob. “We will pay the money,” he said again under his breath as if he was trying to talk himself into it. Wearily he found his smile and proceeded to the dinner table, the always-perfect host.

  Jean Mousse sat shocked in the empty room. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Robert Sevier had always been immensely stingy about his money. In all the years they had been together no one got a penny from the man without a considerable struggle. Now he was just going to willingly give $100,000 to a man they didn’t know in return for Annabelle Casey. Even as he struggled to his feet and headed for his room to change for dinner, he couldn’t grasp the concept. What bothered him most wasn’t that Sevier had chosen a woman over his coveted money, but that maybe his friend had grown some semblance of a heart.

  Chapter 4

  They rode for several hours and Annabelle felt every minute of it. Her back ached and the saddle horn had rubbed a bruise into her outer thigh. Even though she was trying her best, her shoulder would occasionally brush against her captor for a moment before she could straighten herself back up. Her emotions swung between fear and rage, weary and overwhelmed. What made things worse was that she could see nothing though the bag over her head. Her forehead ached where she had hit it, and her hands were stiff and tired of being tied together.

  The first little while the group had been silent, the air seemed to be charged and the horses moved quickly, but as one hour blended into two they began to converse between each other. The man whom held her captive spoke most often to a man named Kit whose voice was a sweet tenor. He must be young and she wondered if it was the man she had kicked. She could only imagine she was riding with the man she had slapped, and she hoped his face still stung from her touch. He had deserved it, and she probably would have done more if she could have escaped the other man’s grasp. One thing she knew for sure was if she got another chance both of them would pay for this.

  Logan rode for a while relishing in his victory. They had accomplished everything they had hoped for that day. Mr. Mousse was on his way to Sevier’s ranch with the ransom note and the girl was his. He looked at her form in front of him and shook his head. She definitely had been a surprise. The woman he had pictured was older, refined, and rich. While this girl was obviously rich she was far from old and after the fit she threw he was wondering about the refined part. His gloved hand touched his face; the sting had gone, but the memory was still fresh. Kit caught the gesture and smiled.

  “What?” Logan shot back, grimacing.

  Kit chuckled and nodded at his friend’s face.

  “How’s your leg?” Logan teased, knowing he wasn’t the only one who had been subjected to the woman’s fury.

  Kit thrust his chin out and glowered at him. While Logan’s pain might be gone, Kit’s leg still throbbed under his Woolsey pants. He, too, looked at the girl and shook his head. She was going to be a handful.

  “It’s a good thing we are almost there, I’m starving.” He had grown up a lot in the past while, but he was still a boy in so many ways.

  Logan winked at him and smiled. “Me too, I’ll be sure to get my fill.” With that, he started whistling a tune absentmindedly. Things were going just according to plan.

  Annabelle wanted another chance at both of them when she heard their exchange. They had no compassion at all for her. Long ago she had started perspiring and the sweat ran down the back of her neck and wet the hair framing her face. She was miserable and all they could talk about was their supper. What were they going to do with her? Her heart hopped in her breast when her mind ran over what they could have planned for her. She could feel the perspiration quicken and she could only imagine what she would look like when they removed her face covering. She hoped it would be frightening enough they would steer clear of her. If her looks didn’t accomplish that goal, her fists surely would.

  The rider continued his song and she listened trying to settler her nerves a bit. The sweet melody was familiar and she recognized it as Red River Valley. Her family had been very musical, sometimes singing together as they worked in the fields. Her mother’s beautiful alto voice would blend with hers and the boys could carry the tenor note together. Her father had a rich bass voice laced with the Irish accent they had brought with them from Ireland. Their memory made her feel sad and then it hit her, the real tragedy of her abduction: if she didn’t marry Mr. Sevier, her family would lose everything.

  She had to suppress the urge to jump from the horse that second. Chastising herself for her selfishness, she could feel the anger rising. This whole time she had been concerned with her own welfare when she should have been concerned with the ramifications of her going missing. It wasn’t just her honor she needed to defend with this group of outlaws, but also the future of her family. Her fists clenched and she could feel her fingernails digging into the flesh of her palm. She was going to get away; she didn’t know how yet, but she was.

  As her mind began to slip into planning mode, she nearly missed the new sound which was approaching. Straining for the sound, she recognized it as water. The horse’s hooves were making a different sound, no longer the soft thud of earth but the grit and grind of river rock. There was a single glimmer of hope: if this was the same creek that ran though her town she could find her way home. Then it dawned on her, this creek probably flowed though the town of Regency where Mr. Sevier lived. This creek was her pathway to escape.

  She was jerked from this wonderful idea when the horse’s big hoof slipped off a rock and he stumbled a bit. The man protectively grabbed her around the waist and pulled her hard against his body. Annabelle lost her breath as his strong arm clutched her. His body was like a rock but warm, his smell was something between sagebrush and mint. He smelled so delicious she felt her stomach growl. That was ridiculous of course, and she pushed the thought quickly from her mind. It clearly was hunger that rumbled its way through her body, nothing more.

  Logan was certain she was going to tumble backwards off the horse and crack her head open, leaving him nothing to bargain with. He swore under his breath and grabbed her before she could go over. When her soft body came into contact with his, however, he almost wished he had let her fall. Even though her hair was covered he could smell its sweet scent, a delicious soap scent drifted from her into his nose. Her body was so small but she wasn’t weak; she was soft where she should be and hard where she should be. He quickly released his grasp when they were ov
er the obstacle, but her smell and warmth stayed in the air around him. In just a few minutes they would be at camp and he would be able to put some much needed distance between them.

  A few moments later the men whooped with excitement. They could see their camp and the chuck wagon. Annabelle could smell the cooking from her place on the horse and she knew, at least for a while, she could find some comfort off the back of the horse. Before long she was being lowered into a different set of arms. Her heart raced in her chest and she went into fight mode. Pushing away from the man in front of her she waved her arms wildly in an attempt to strike him in the face, but before she could make contact someone grabbed her from behind, crushing her to his body. Furiously she kicked with both feet completely disregarding modesty in an attempt to break free. Her tired body gave up soon enough and she slumped against his broad, muscular chest.

  “Slow down there, you hellcat,” the voice said in her ear. “If you calm down I’ll take this bag off your head.”

  Against her better judgment Annabelle struggled again, but his iron grasp gave her no leeway. This time, completely exhausted, she bowed her head in submission.

  “Ya done?” he asked, the smell of mint filling the air in the bag.

  She nodded and held very still so he wouldn’t think she was going to lash out again. The bands loosened and he turned her around. The bag was lifted from her head and the cool evening breeze brushed across her flushed face and through her damp hair. It was like a little bit of heaven. Taking a deep breath she opened her eyes, squinting them against the setting sun.

  Logan’s partially shaded face was the first thing she saw. She wrinkled her nose remembering it was him she had seen last. Both were unpleasant thoughts but she didn’t look away from his blue eyes, unwilling to show she had been beaten. His face was rectangular with a strong jaw. His eyes were a darker blue than hers and framed with blond lashes. His hair was short and the same color as his lashes, fine stubble shown on his face. His perfectly formed lips were smiling down at her showing off his pearly white teeth. He was handsome to be sure, but she felt nothing but loathing toward him. This man had nearly killed her, hauled her away from her future husband and put her family in the greatest deal of peril; she was determined to hate him until she died.