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She did know, but she wasn’t about to admit it to him. “I hate this,” she said, turning away from him. “I want to go to town. Just let me go.”
“I can’t.”
“You won’t.”
“You’re right. I won’t.”
She stalked over to her horse and waited until Jesse joined her. When he made a step by lacing his fingers together, she wanted to scream in frustration. Why was this happening to her? How dare he treat her like this?
Then she was settling onto the saddle. Every part of her body clenched in protest. She did not want to spend one more hour on this horse.
“I’m going to get a quick drink of water,” Jesse said, turning toward the stream. “I’ll be right back.”
She watched him walk away, hating him and the circumstances that had brought her here. If only she could convince him to—
Her gaze settled on him as he crouched at the water’s edge. She glanced in the other direction and saw his horse waiting patiently. This was her chance, she thought suddenly. She could escape and get to town on her own.
She urged her horse close to his, then slapped his mount on the rump. The animal jumped and started to move away. Haley didn’t bother waiting to see if it kept going. Instead she collected her reins and kicked her horse hard. The gelding leapt forward. Unlike her first flight yesterday, this time she was prepared for the momentum. She crouched low and hung on, keeping control of the reins. A frustrated cry rose up behind her, but she didn’t bother turning. This time she was going to do it. This time she was going to get away.
The countryside flashed by quickly. Haley steered her horse down to the edge of the stream where there was plenty of room for it to run. The wind whipped her hair out behind her and cooled her heated body. The fear and pain faded, replaced by exhilaration. She liked feeling free. At last she was taking matters into her own hands.
Up ahead the bank narrowed. She tugged on the reins, urging the horse into the forest. The thick trees forced her to slow the animal. She didn’t want a repeat of the previous day, when low-lying branches had blocked the path. After a few minutes, she drew her mount to a stop and listened for the sound of someone following. But there wasn’t anything except the call of a few birds and the thundering of her heart. She’d done it!
Over the next hour or so, Haley let the horse pick its way through the thick grove of trees. She had a general idea of where she was heading because she’d started keeping track of the sun’s slow descent. They were trotting now, a bone-crushing pace that made her want to audibly whimper with each step. But they were also moving toward Whitehorn. Perhaps by sundown she would have made it.
She kicked the horse into a faster pace. The animal obliged and soon they were racing along. She laughed at the pleasure of it. Once again she heard the rushing sound of water, but it was too soon to stop.
The horse slowed, but she kicked it again, wanting it to keep running. She needed more distance between herself and Jesse. The animal slowed a second time. She leaned forward and kicked harder. Then she saw it.
This particular stream had been flowing hard and fast enough to cut a gully through the forest. It was about eight feet deep and three feet wide, with steep muddy banks. There was no way for them to walk down and judging from the bunching of the horse’s muscles, her mount planned to jump the distance.
Haley screamed, but it was too late to stop. She bent as low as she could and wrapped her arms around the horse’s neck. Even as the animal leapt out into nothingness, she felt herself being lifted and flying. Fear exploded into her, a heartbeat before she hit the ground. There was a moment of silence, then the world spun once and disappeared into blackness.
* * *
Daisy opened the door to the land office and stepped inside. She heard voices, but didn’t worry about interrupting. If Stoner didn’t want anyone listening, he would have turned the lock. She walked to the counter and placed her covered basket on top, then looked at the two men standing next to Stoner’s large desk.
Stoner glanced up, saw her and smiled. She returned the greeting, knowing her pleasant expression would mask the hatred in her heart.
“I’ll just be a minute, my dear,” he told her.
She nodded and turned to glance out the front window, as if the conversation in progress held no interest for her. But in truth she strained to hear every word Stoner told Vernon Lindsay, Whitehorn’s excuse for a sheriff.
“I want him found,” Stoner said. “Do whatever you have to as far as Kincaid is concerned. In fact, I would consider it excellent news if he was killed while you were trying to arrest him.”
“I can’t just shoot him if he doesn’t put up a fight.”
“I doubt Jesse Kincaid will come quietly, Lindsay. But if you don’t have the stomach to do it yourself, I’ll take care of it later. The point is, I don’t want the girl hurt. I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with her.”
“I’ve got men out looking for them now,” Lindsay said. “But he spent two years on the trail and I’m sure he’s learned a trick or two. It might be a while.”
“I’m aware of your limitations,” Stoner said. “If he’s not found in the next couple of days, I’ll decide what I want to do.”
“I heard all he wants is to talk with you, Mr. Stoner. He’s not asking for ransom.”
There was a pause and Daisy wondered how the sheriff would pay for the insolence of offering a suggestion. The man was saved by the land office door opening again and three large, burly men walking in.
Daisy forced herself to smile politely at the unwashed, hulking brutes. They were Stoner’s cousins and the trio he sent out to clean up anything he might consider untidy. They had fingered Jesse’s father, Michael, as the man supplying guns to the mysterious renegades who had begun to plague the neighboring ranches.
“Miss Daisy,” they said as one and tipped their dusty hats to her.
She nodded.
Stoner glanced up. “I want to talk to you,” he said. “Lindsay, let me know if you hear anything.”
“Yes, Mr. Stoner.”
Lindsay waited for the three larger men to make their way past the counter before he headed for the door. Daisy watched to make sure Stoner took his cousins out back for some privacy before she stepped toward Lindsay and touched his arm.
“Do you really have men out looking for Jesse?” she asked.
Lindsay turned to look at her. She could smell the alcohol on his breath and seeping from his body. His skin was a shade somewhere between white and gray, and his blue irises were surrounded by yellow instead of white.
“They’re looking,” he said. “But Jesse’s not going to be easy to find.”
“You can’t let them bring him in,” she said, her voice low but heated. “Stoner has been looking for an excuse to kill Jesse and this is all he needs. If you arrest Jesse Kincaid, he’ll be dead in less than two days. You know that.”
Lindsay brushed his too-long blond hair from his forehead. His hands were shaking. “I’m doing what I have to.”
Daisy leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Jesse hasn’t done anything wrong and you know it. He’s trying to clear his father’s name. If you don’t want to help him, then at least have the decency to stay out of his way.”
Lindsay started for the door.
Daisy went after him. “You won’t help, will you?”
“I can’t.”
She shook her head. “Bought and paid for by Stoner. What kind of man are you?”
Lindsay straightened. The drink might have defeated him for the moment, but he wasn’t completely vanquished. “I know what I am, madam. And I’m not the only one Stoner bought and paid for.”
She shouldn’t have been surprised and yet she was. His words shocked her, sending color to her cheeks. It took all her pride to keep from ducking her head in shame. Whitehorn was a small town. No doubt everyone knew about her affair with Michael Kincaid and how she now allowed Lucas Stoner into her bed.
“I understand that I’m little more than a whore,” she said stiffly. “But at least I’m doing all I can to see that the Kincaid family is vindicated. What are you doing?”
Lindsay reached out toward her, then dropped his hand back to his side. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Newcastle. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Don’t bother, Lindsay. We’re both sorry excuses for decent folks. We fight our demons in different ways. But know this. While I understand you have a job to do, I won’t let you or anyone hurt Jesse. If you do, I’ll kill you myself.”
Lindsay reached for the door, then paused. He turned his watery gaze on her and nodded. “You know,” he said at last, “that would be a true act of kindness and I would thank you for it.”
* * *
Jesse cursed loudly. His horse flicked its ears as if trying to understand what he was saying.
“Dammit all to hell,” he muttered again. “Where is she?”
Bad enough that she’d caught him not paying attention. He’d known she was angry, frustrated and sore; he should have realized that she would try to escape. He couldn’t even comfort himself with the fact that she’d broken her word. When he thought about it, she never promised anything that morning. He’d just taken her silence as assent.
He’d been married long enough to know that wasn’t true. Women were stubborn creatures. Haley was tougher than most and one determined lady. He should have seen this coming and been prepared. Instead he’d been caught like a doe trapped in a mud bank.
He swore again, even though it didn’t accomplish anything. She’d come this way and judging from the stripped branches and stirred earth, she’d been traveling quickly. He glanced around at the trees and the close branches, wondering why she’d gone from a trot to a full-out gallop. She and her horse had been making good time. She was even heading toward Whitehorn...sort of.
Jesse glanced up toward the sky. The sun would set within the hour. She would be safe on her horse, but eventually she’d have to stop and once she was on foot, she was in danger.
A faint rustling caught his attention. He reined in his mount and listened. Then he grinned. She was right up ahead, making enough noise to alert a deaf man. He had to give her credit for making it this far. She was one scrappy woman.
His horse moved forward. Jesse headed for the sound but before he could break through the trees, Haley’s horse nosed its way out first.
Jesse stared at the riderless horse. Something cold and tight squeezed in his chest. Haley hadn’t made it this far. Somewhere, somehow, she’d been thrown. He wanted to think she’d dismounted to get a drink of water, but his gut told him otherwise. She would have kept on going for as long as she could. All she wanted was to get to town and find Stoner. Nothing would have stopped her from that.
He tried to convince himself she’d been rescued by the men undoubtedly following them, but he knew better. Even if they had a carriage for her to ride in, they would have taken her horse with them. So she’d been thrown and was out there now wandering around alone. Unless she’d been injured.
The pressure in his chest increased. He told himself his concern was because he needed Haley healthy so he could use her to bargain with Stoner. He didn’t really care about her. Except he knew he did care, at least a little. Despite everything, he didn’t want her injured...or worse.
He got down from his horse and began to study the ground. The trail he’d been following was still clear and fresh. She’d been on her horse when the animal had come this way earlier. He could tell by the depth of the hoofprint in the soft ground. The gelding had been carrying a rider. So all he had to do was continue to follow the trail. Eventually he would find Haley.
At least that was what he told himself as he swung back in the saddle and headed west. Every few minutes he glanced up at the darkening sky. Tonight the temperature would again drop below freezing. Without a fire, Haley would die. If the wolves and bears didn’t get her first. If she didn’t fall and break something, or if she hadn’t already.
He urged his horse on faster, studying the ground with an intensity that made his head throb. It was, he told himself, because he needed his prisoner alive and well, and for no other reason at all.
CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_f0888f03-c1c7-5632-a00e-e55b60545ed5)
Haley clung to the side of a tree. The world had finally stopped spinning. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been unconscious, or if she really had blacked out at all. She couldn’t think straight. If the pain of being on a horse was difficult, the pain of falling twice in two days was many times worse. Knowing she had only herself to blame for her present circumstances didn’t make them any easier to bear.
She drew in a deep breath. The action didn’t hurt as much as it had just a few minutes ago. She leaned heavily against the rough, scratchy bark because it was too much effort to stand on her own. She’d been walking for what felt like hours. Stumbling really, calling for her horse, for Jesse, for Lucas. At this point she would be happy to see savage Indians. It was cold and getting dark. Soon the sun would set completely. Then what was she going to do? She didn’t have any food, or the means to start a fire. How was she going to survive?
The questions made her head ache more. Weariness settled on her like a damp cloak, sucking out the last of her reserves. She sank to her knees and fought against the urge to cry. She would not give in to tears, she told herself. She was strong and tough and she would make it through this.
“Jesse,” she called out, knowing in her heart that he was her only hope. “Jesse, where are you? I’m over here. Jesse?”
Had he given up? Was he even bothering to look for her? Maybe he’d decided she was too much trouble and that he would find another way to get what he wanted. Maybe—
“Stop it!” she said aloud. “You’re trying to scare yourself. Just stop it! Of course he’s looking for me. He needs me to bargain with Lucas. And if nothing else, Jesse isn’t the kind of man who would leave me out here alone.”
An odd opinion to have about her kidnapper, but she believed it and that belief comforted her.
She shifted on her knees, trying to find a less painful position. The ground was chilly and the cold seeped in through her skirt and petticoats. A shiver rippled through her. It was going to get worse, she knew. There were many poor in Chicago and she’d seen what happened to them when they slept outside in the winter. The lucky ones only lost fingers and toes. Those not so lucky died.
Something rustled in the brush to her left. She looked toward the sound. “Jesse?”
There was a soft yipping in reply. An animal!
“Oh, God.” She leapt to her feet and stood with her back to the tree. “Get out of here,” she screamed. “Shoo, run away. Leave me alone!”
The creature rustled again. Haley glanced around and saw a good-sized rock a few feet away. She picked it up and heaved it into the bushes. The animal yipped again, then the rustling stopped.
“It’s gone,” she told herself, as she wrapped her arms around her chest. “It’s gone and I’m fine.”
She was fine. She was going to be fine. What was the alternative?
Slowly, even as it got darker and colder, some of the fear left her. Perhaps it was because she would rather be afraid out here than afraid in the city. To die in the wilderness wasn’t as terrifying as being attacked in the street, or burned alive in a dark, windowless room.
So she huddled by her tree and occasionally called out Jesse’s name. The pain in her head subsided to a manageable throbbing. He would come for her, she told herself again and again. He wouldn’t leave her out here.
But as time passed, she grew less certain. And the realization that she was going to die out here, all alone, made the tears come. She crouched with her back up against the tree, brushing the drops away as they fell. The cold crept up her skirt and made her shiver. Her teeth chattered. She tried to think about being warm, about a blazing fire, but that only made her discomfort worse.
She shouldn’t have run away. She should have stayed put and found another way to—
A gunshot cut through the night. Haley jumped and pressed her hand over her mouth to hold in a scream, not knowing what the sound meant. Had the men who must surely be looking for them found Jesse? Was he dead? Maybe it was Indians, or outlaws or someone frightening and she would be better off staying quietly here by the tree. Maybe she should—
Another sound drifted to her on the chilly breeze of the night. The faint whisper of her name. And then she knew. Jesse had fired his gun to let her know where he was. He was looking for her and couldn’t find her, so he wanted her to find him.
She took off in the direction of the shot and his voice. She screamed for him. “Jesse! Jesse, I’m over here.”
He called back an answer. She raced through the trees and the brush, ignoring the branches that caught at her clothes and scratched her face and hands.
She stumbled over a tree root, fell to her knees, then righted herself and kept running. Her chest ached from lack of air, her legs were heavy, but she pushed on.
“Haley? Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she called back and broke through a few waist-high bushes. Jesse stood in a clearing, the two horses behind him. In the darkness, she couldn’t make out his features, but she recognized the size and strength of him.
“Jesse.”
He turned toward her. “Dammit, Haley, what were you thinking? You could have been killed.”
She recognized his anger as concern and once again she fought the tears. “I’m fine,” she murmured, barely able to form the words.
He strode over to her, put the rifle on the ground and grabbed her forearms. “Are you hurt? What happened?”
Before she could answer, he pulled her roughly against him.
She went willingly because she had no thought to protest. He was warm and she felt so very cold. Strong arms came around her and despite his strength, his embrace quickly gentled. She leaned against him, absorbing his heat. He rubbed her back.
“Running off was damn stupid,” he said. “You could have died.”
“I know.” She buried her face in his shoulder. “But I had to try.”
