A Ransomed Heart Page 4

  Even the memory of him seeing her mostly undressed didn’t evoke anger anymore, instead she felt shy. How would she face him in the morning? She had not been very nice herself and she should have returned the apology, but she hadn’t. In a flash of defiance she thought he really should suffer for the night, after all he was far more wicked to her than she had been to him. Still she had been upset, but that was no reason to be unkind. It was not in her nature to be short with people, but there was something about the man that irked her. Frustrated she rolled over and faced the side of the tent. Maybe she would tell him she was sorry in the morning. Or maybe she wouldn’t.

  Chapter 5

  The floor was still moist, and in some spots even slippery, with mud but Annabelle didn’t care. The silk dress rustled as she slid out of bed, her feet tingling on the cold earth. Her fingers trembled as she undid the buttons on her bodice. Quietly she slipped out of the noisy dress and laid it quietly on the bed. She left her corset in place and slipped a remaining petticoat over the one she already had on. Later she could use it for protection against the heat or cold. She left everything else including her shoes and tiptoed over to the door.

  The leather ties were still tied and she peeked through one of the cracks and out into the night. The fire still crackled in the fire pit and she could make out the dark figures bundled on the ground. She couldn’t tell who was who, but she knew she wasn’t going to make it out the front of the tent without someone seeing her. Her only hope was to lift the back of the tent and slip out. She would circle way around the camp and then follow the river until she found some place safe. It might take her a couple of days, but eventually if she was careful, she would find someone to help her.

  She nearly slipped as she made her way across to the back of the tent. She let out a little squeak and she clasped her hand over her mouth and listened to hear if she had woken anyone up. The moments ticked on but no one stirred outside the tent. Her muscles ached from a day’s ride in the saddle and she eased herself down to the ground, her legs shaking and tired. The back of the tent lifted easily and her petite size allowed her to slip effortlessly into the night. The night air was cool and gooseflesh prickled her arms. Her heart drummed in her ears so loudly she was certain the entire camp could hear her.

  This time she didn’t stick around to see if anyone had witnessed her escape. She bolted away from camp not looking back. Her bare feet pounded the cold earth urging her faster, but her heavy skirts weighed her down and she panted and slowed sooner than she wanted to. She was far too exhausted to be moving so quickly and her meager dinner didn’t help her energy level. Finally she stopped altogether and leaned against a sandstone rock which had tumbled down from an unseen ridge. She would allow herself to rest a while then she would continue on her way.

  Sliding down the rough rock she sat on the sweet grass that flourished by the riverside. Wyoming Territory was a brown, dusty place, but where water was prevalent the grass and other foliage bloomed. She rested her head in her arms and closed her eyes. The night was silent and a half moon and a scattering of brilliant stars made it a perfect evening. Without even realizing it Annabelle started to drift off until she thought she heard something. She heard a few more twigs snap which made her jump to her feet and she pressed herself against the rock. Her mind raced; what would she defend herself with if it was a wild animal? It hadn’t occurred to her that she could be in just as much, or even more, danger away from her captors than with them.

  Her body flooded with adrenaline for the second time that night and she decided her best course of action would be to flee from the situation. A stand of junipers stood out against the dark night sky about a hundred yards away and she wondered if she could make it to the top of a tree before something gobbled her up. With her mind made up she turned to run when a hand clamped around her arm locking her into place.

  Annabelle screamed despite herself but it was cut short by a large, warm hand which clamped down on her mouth. A second later, her back was pressed up against a man’s warm, naked torso. With both hands she tried to pry his hand away but it was no use. A familiar peppermint smell tickled her senses when he bent and whispered in her ear:

  “Where are you going, Bella?”His voice sounded amused as it murmured from behind her.

  Annabelle growled and tried to kick him in the shins, but her bare feet didn’t do much against his jeans and leather boots.

  “Trying to run away from us, huh?” he said, and this time a chuckle rumbled though his chest. She could feel it all the way through her own body.

  Her face flushed and she was suddenly hot with anger. She tried to bite his hands but he whirled her around to face him, his free hand now clamping down on her other wrist.

  “Stop, you cat,” he said, and he tried to wrestle with her. It didn’t take more than a second for him to pin her against his body, her arms behind her back and her nose pressed into his broad chest. He held her just tight enough that she gave a little whimper when she tried to move. And then she held very still. The hair on the top of her head tickled his nose and he could feel her warm breath feathering across his bare chest. She smelled amazing and her body was soft and perfect next to his. As if reading his mind she looked up at him with her cool blue eyes and glared.

  “Let go of me, Mr. Bailey.” Her voice was even but he could feel her breathing was strained.

  “Why, so you can get away again?” He chuckled again and smiled down at her. “I don’t think so.”

  “I wasn’t trying to run away.”

  “Oh, really? That’s what it looked like to me.” Her skin was clear and milky in the moonlight and he could see the smattering of freckles on her nose. She looked almost good enough to eat and Logan found himself less concerned with her escape attempt and more concerned about the feelings which were bubbling up inside of him. He ignored the warning bells that were ringing in his head and he lowered his face to her neck.

  “Where were you going then?” he whispered. Oh heavens, she smelled like strawberries and honey and his mouth watered involuntarily.

  “I was…I was…” Her voice was breathy and her little hands slipped into his. His grip had loosened and their hands fell to the side entwined together.

  It took all his willpower to not kiss the fragrant skin beneath her earlobe. “You were what?”

  Her little hands violently hit his chest breaking the spell, and she dashed past him. “I was running away from you!” she shouted as she dashed for the clump of trees. His mind reeled and he grimaced as her hand prints continued to sting on his bare skin.

  “Oh, you vixen,” he shouted and took off after her.

  Annabelle ran as fast as she could. She hiked her skirts up as high as she dared as she leapt over clumps of sagebrush and skirted around piles of rock. If she could get to the tree she could climb up high enough he wouldn’t be able to get her down. She would stay there till she died of starvation if she had to. Her blood pounded in her veins; not only because of her mad dash across the desert, but because she could still feel Logan’s warm breath on her neck. She had never felt the way she did when he had been so close, but she knew it would be dangerous if she let him stay there any longer. She needed to get away from him as fast as she could.

  Suddenly the wind was knocked out of her as Logan slammed into her back. They both crashed to the ground. Annabelle thrashed around trying to get out from under him but he was much too big. It wasn’t until he hauled her out of the dirt that she saw how angry he was. His own blue eyes were on fire and she could see the firm line of his jaw.

  “That’s how you want to play it, then,” he growled and whirled her around, dragging her toward camp.

  “I won’t go,” she said, digging her heels into the earth.

  “Oh, yes you will.” With that he hefted her up onto his shoulder.

  She opened her mouth to protest but he smacked her squarely on the rear. When she tried again, he did it again. Two more times she tried to cry out for help and both times his
hand made contact with her bottom. Finally she gave up with her rear stung so badly she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to sit down. When they got back to camp, Logan tried to go through the front flap of the tent but it was still tied shut. He swore under his breath and Annabelle was sure he was going rip the door open; instead he swung her off his shoulder and stuffed her under the bottom of the tent. He followed closely behind.

  She stood in the middle of the tent, her hair disheveled and her skirts covered in dirt with sagebrush bits clinging to the threads. Logan slipped a pair of handcuffs out of his back pocket and held them up for her to see.

  “Do I need to use these?” His voice was gruff but the anger was gone.

  Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “No, I promise to stay put.”

  “I swear I will cuff you to the cot, the saddle horn, and even my belt loop if you give me so much as the smallest problem from here on out, do you understand me?”

  Annabelle dropped her eyes to the floor and nodded her head. She heard him fiddle with the ties on the tent for a moment then he turned back to face her. “Go to bed now, we’re heading out at first light.” Then he was gone.

  In one last act of rebellion she hurried back to the tent flap and securely tied the ties again. Suddenly Bella was too tired to even think and she stumbled to the bed and pulled the blankets, dress, and everything over her tired body. The last thing she remembered was Logan’s lips on her neck.

  Chapter 6

  “Annie, Annie!” She could hear her mother calling her from outside and smell the bacon and eggs. It had been months since they had eaten bacon, it wasn’t something they could afford. Her bed was warm, although a little lumpy, but Annabelle didn’t want the sweet sound of her mother’s voice to leave. “Annie, Annie, Annie…”

  “Annabelle!”

  She sat up with a jerk, where was she? Then it dawned on her she was still in the tent, somewhere far away from where she needed to be. The persistent voice called again.

  “Miss Casey, Annabelle!”

  “What?” her voice wheezed, sounding very much like a sick bullfrog.

  “You need to get up, we’ve gotta get moving.” It was Logan’s rich baritone ringing though the morning air.

  She rubbed her face with both hands and stretched. It was early and she was still so tired, and every corner and crevice of her body ached. The night had been a jumbled mass of bad dreams and tossing and turning. Laying back down, she pulled the skirts up around her shoulders and yawned. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep and find her mother again. Refusing to open her eyes again she listened as Logan tried to pull the tent flap back only to find it tied closed.

  “Who the hell tied this closed?”

  She smiled a wicked smile. “Me!”

  “Well untie it!” It was a direct command.

  “NO!” The smile got bigger.

  “Annabelle, you untie this or I am going to take the tent down around you.”

  She laughed, it rang through the river valley like the song of a bird and she clasped her hand over her mouth startled by the sound. Peeking open one eye she looked over at the door and tried her best to be serious. “You could try saying please.”

  He growled outside the tent. This woman was absurdly frustrating and drove him mad. She was his hostage for Pete’s sake. Rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck he took a deep breath. Why did everything with her need to be so painful? His left shoulder ached especially from their tumble in the brush the night before. He was sure if he took a closer look at his arms and legs he would be covered with cuts and bruises. “Annabelle…”

  “Who?” her voice was still playful.

  “Miss Casey,” he said through gritted teeth, “would you please come untie the tent and join us for breakfast?”

  Her dress rustled inside and a few minutes later he could see the tent flap move under her hands. A few moments later she poked her head out and smiled radiantly at him. “I’d love to.”

  All he could do was look at her for a few moments. Her eyes looked bright, blue, and calm, unlike the last time he had seen them. The strawberry hair was tamed into a thick braid down her back and her rose lips were stretched across a perfect and petite mouth. She was quite possibly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and the thought of their brief intimate moment the night before flashed though his mind.

  Before he could speak she disappeared back into the tent. He was to afraid to look in after her so he just waited. There was a strange sound of ripping fabric and moments later she returned with part of a petticoat slung around her shoulders for warmth. Politely she lifted her dress and stepped out of the door and around his still unmoved body. A faint honeysuckle fragrance followed her slight frame and Logan squelched a growl. Man, she smelled good. Shaking his head he furrowed his brow. What the heck was wrong with him?

  Annabelle smiled at everyone that morning during breakfast. Logan put Kit in charge of her while they broke camp but when it was time to mount up he hovered around her. She hoped she wouldn’t need to ride with him again or that he wouldn’t tie her wrists; she wondered if he trusted her enough to let her be free. After last night she wouldn’t be surprised if he used those dreaded handcuffs. Without waiting to see what Mr. Bailey’s plan was for her, she pulled one of the stagecoach horses over to a stump and slipped on him bareback. The wagon tack had been cut back and now the reins were a usable length for single riding. She chose the traditional male position over sidesaddle and draped her legs over either side of the animal’s warm flanks. Her dress was long enough she only exposed her high boots, completely modest in her opinion.

  Once she had adjusted herself properly she looked around from her perch. Every man in the area was staring at her. Logan fairly glared at her; Kit gave her a warm smile and quickly swung up in his saddle then walked his burgundy mare over to her.

  “Mornin’ ma’am” he said, tipping his hat and giving her a flirty wink.

  “Good morning, Kit.” She gave him a dazzling smile and batted her eyelashes like he was the last man on earth.

  Logan watched the exchange, unsure he liked what he saw. He threw one long leg over the back of his buckskin gelding and then grabbed the reins of Annabelle’s horse, pulling them from her hands. She was acting strangely and the last thing he needed was for her to try to escape again. Kit blatantly glared at him but Logan just glared back and jammed his hat on his head. They weren’t going to get anywhere with Kit flirting like a lovesick pup. He hadn’t mentioned Annabelle’s attempted escape but his sore body was enough to remind him not to trust their red-headed captive. His friend seemed unfazed by the lady’s strange behavior and continued chatting in a friendly manner with Annabelle. She did not fight Logan when he took the lead only smiled even brighter at Kit. Logan grumbled a ‘head out’ and everyone followed him out of camp.

  Annabelle had opted out of all the petticoats and stuck them in a cranny in the chuck wagon. Lars, the cook, wanted to protest, but when she smiled sweetly at him, he willingly agreed. She had only kept her improvised shawl and soon the sun had warmed her enough she laid it across her lap. The beautiful dress had lost its stiffness and hung lifelessly around her. The puff sleeves still only covered a small amount of her arms and when she felt the burn of the sun she again covered them with the wrap, this time to save herself from sunburn.

  Kit went right on talking to her all morning long. He was nice and easy to converse with, so much like her brother. Finally, Logan called him up next to him and she surveyed her surroundings for a bit. They had left the river bottom and its rocky banks, along with the little lush greenery which had made its way up in the moist earth. Now the ground was covered in short brown weeds and sagebrush. In the distance she could see the hills gradually reaching to high peaks then to the mountains. They seemed a very long ways away. The browns and oranges mixed with veins of red and purple and made her feel like she was walking in a painting. The wind had picked up and she was glad she had her hair pulled back and out of
her face. She wished she had her bonnet and she grimaced as she touched her red nose.

  Somewhat regretfully she watched as Kit took the reins from Logan and narrowed her eyes as Logan slowed his pace to match hers. It had been easy to keep her cool with Kit, but Logan was a whole different story. If he would just keep his cocky mouth shut maybe they could have a civilized conversation. Why did he have to come back here and ruin a perfectly good day?

  “We are almost there,” he said like she should know where they were going.

  “Where?”

  “My home; we are almost to Hope.”

  Her eyebrow rose. She had never heard of the place and she wondered what awful place he was going to keep her in tonight.

  “The town of Hope is my home, and we are almost there.” He rolled his eyes like she was a small child.

  Her blood boiled inside her, but she bit her tongue. It would do her no good to point out she had absolutely no idea what he was talking about; he was as thick-headed as a mule after all. He didn’t say anything more to her and they rode in an uncomfortable silence.

  “I meant what I said last night.”

  She looked at him with her pale blue eyes. “What part did you mean, that I was a princess or that I was a hellcat? Or maybe it was the part about handcuffing me to your pants?” Try as she might she couldn’t help spewing angry words at him.

  His jaw worked as he tried to remain in control. Finally he seemed to swallow his gruff retort and he licked his lips before his calm voice startled her. “About being sorry. I guess I am just not really comfortable around other people.”