Captive Heart (9 page)

“Why exactly are we traveling at night again?” she ventured to ask, though she was fairly certain she knew the answer.

“Simple. Don’t want to meet up with anyone, and the road from Sidney to the Hills is well traveled.”

“Are you a wanted outlaw?” Emmalyne asked bluntly. “Are there posters advertising a reward for your capture?” She glanced at his profile, imagining a charcoal sketch of his face tacked to the wall in a sheriff’s office.

Thayne chuckled. “Posters? No. Wanted? Likely very soon by the Martin brothers, as I paid the sheriff in Sidney a visit and gave him all the information I could regarding their whereabouts.”

Emmalyne turned away from him, looking straight ahead at the horses plodding steadily along. She was grateful Thayne was not driving like a madman tonight. She wondered at his comment and whether he had actually gone to see the sheriff. Why would an outlaw do such a thing? It didn’t make sense. But then, nothing had from the moment he’d taken her hand and pulled her from the seat on the train.

She shivered, then wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders.

“Cold?” Thayne asked, looking over at her. “We could stop and get another blanket from the back.” He paused. “And you should scoot closer.” He nodded at the space between them.

Emmalyne swallowed uneasily at his suggestion. Sitting closer was the last thing she should do, yet some traitorous part of her instantly admitted she liked the idea. In the oddest sort of way, it was comforting to be close to him. After all, he
had
saved her life numerous times now.

And that’s all it is,
she reasoned.
Nothing more. Thayne—Mr. Kendrich—makes me feel protected from the other dangers surrounding us.

“I’m fine,” she lied. “Plenty warm.”

He shook his head. “It’s not just that. Last night you got so tired you nearly fell out of the wagon. Tonight I want you to lean against my shoulder if you think you’re falling asleep. It’s a great deal safer.”

That would be
anything
but safe.
Emmalyne tried to discern Thayne’s expression in the darkness. Likely the offer of his shoulder meant nothing to him other than a means of keeping his captive alive and whole. She needed to remember that, remember that he was her enemy. Mostly though, tonight she had to remember to stay awake.

Chapter 15

Emmalyne picked fuzz from the toe of her sock as she looked at Thayne lying in the grass a few feet away, hat pulled low over his face. “How long have you been an outlaw?”

“’Bout six weeks,” he said casually, as if such a choice of profession were no big deal at all.

“Hmm.” She speculated on what it would take to reform him, to save him from a life of sin and misery. She’d seen glimpses of a good man inside, and she couldn’t help wishing and wondering what Thayne could be like if he changed his ways and lived up to his potential. “That’s not long at all. No wonder you’re so bad at it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Thayne grunted.

Waving a hand in the air, she said, “Oh, you know. You didn’t bring any food or water when you kidnapped me. Then you only had three bullets and so lacked the confidence to use them that you gave the gun to me.”

He lifted his hat, turning to look at her. “I gave you the gun to save both our hides. Had all six of the Martins come after us, the only thing three bullets would have done was ensure we both got killed.”

Emmalyne completely ignored his defense, instead feeling inordinately pleased that she’d gotten his dander up.
Just get him riled enough that he’ll agree to let me wander around a bit.
“And then there was the matter of you forgetting the sack of gold on the train.”

“I didn’t forget it.” Thayne lowered his head again. “I never had any intention of stealing—joined up with the Martins’ train robbery only on the chance I’d find a teacher I could borrow.”

“Borrow?”
Emmalyne choked out. “Is that what you call this? And for how long am I to be on loan?”

“Till you get the job done,” he groused, pulling his hat over his eyes. “Aren’t you tired? You were up all night same as me.”

“Not really.” She shrugged. “I can’t seem to sleep today.”
I’m too worried. We’re getting too far from civilization and too close to the Hills.

“Well,
I
can.” He rolled away from her, signaling the end of their conversation.

Emmalyne sat quietly for a few minutes, biding her time until she knew he’d almost drifted off. She watched as his breathing changed and he exhaled slow and deep. Smiling to herself, she spoke up again. “Does your family know about this? Are they aware their son has taken to—”

“Gagging women who won’t keep quiet so a man can sleep?” Thayne sat up quickly, turning to her, glaring with bloodshot eyes. “Miss Madsen, so help me, if you don’t stop your yapping, I’m going to pull those socks off your feet and stuff them in your mouth—right after I tie you up again.”

“Well,” Emmalyne huffed. “I’ve never in all my days heard of a schoolteacher treated so rudely.” She lifted her head a notch. “Fine. Have your nap. I shall—I shall go see the horses for company.” She rose from the grass, brushing the dust from her skirt.

“You do that,” Thayne said. “Pet them. Feed ’em some apples, talk to ’em real quiet if you like. Just give me an hour or two of peace.”

“Those animals are treated better than I am.”

“They’re also a mite more cooperative and a great deal quieter.” He brought his hand to his chin, rubbing the stubble there as he studied her thoughtfully. “But if feeding you apples and patting your head would make you more pleasant, I’d be happy to oblige. Though with your sour disposition, maybe sugar cubes are required.”

Emmalyne’s fists balled at her sides. She’d intended to irritate him, but somehow he’d managed to turn the tables, throwing barbs her way. “Mr. Kendrich,
you
are what has rendered my disposition sour. Before being forced to endure your company, I was wholly pleasant. But you—you have ruined me.”

“Careful with your words, Miss Madsen. Even out west a ruined woman means one thing. And you and I are both aware that nothing of the sort has happened. Nor will it ever.”

With her face scarlet, Emmalyne turned on her heel and walked toward the wagon.
As if anyone will believe
that
if I survive this ordeal.
She retrieved two apples from a barrel near the back. Slowing her pace, she moved toward the horses that were tethered a short distance away.

“Emma,” Thayne called.

“What?” she snapped, stopping midstride.

“Don’t get any ideas about running. It’s dangerous out there, and I’d find you anyway. Promise me you won’t run.”

“I give you my word.”
For now.
She didn’t consider lying to an outlaw a real sin.

Her show of bravery ended as she continued toward the horses. She placed one apple in her pocket but kept the other one ready. When she was near enough, she reached out tentatively to touch the first horse.

It nickered, lowering its head to take the apple from her other hand. Emmalyne released the breath she’d been holding and felt her heartbeat slow as she realized the animal was quite gentle. She stood there several minutes, nose to nose with her means to freedom. She’d hoped Thayne would agree to let her walk around a bit so she could escape on foot. But
this
was even better. Leaning to the side, she studied the horse’s back, calculating the height, deciding how she could best mount it. A smile curved her lips as she glanced over her shoulder at Thayne, already drifting off to sleep. She looked at the horse again and whispered.

“Oh, I most definitely won’t
run
.”

Chapter 16

Emmalyne was right.
I
am
a lousy outlaw
. Thayne ran across the prairie, eyes trained on the ground as he tried to follow the faint hoofprints on the dusty earth. He couldn’t believe he’d let Joshua’s teacher escape again—this time on horseback.

He studied the ground and noticed when she’d stopped walking the animals and begun riding one, leading the other. The way the tracks edged off the road onto the grass, he figured they had to belong to Emmalyne’s horse. No sane or skilled rider would weave such a ridiculous path. He’d bet his hat Emmalyne was neither. Likely, she’d never even been on a horse before.

Twice he stopped to catch his breath and consider leaving her to her own fate. Twice his conscience warned him he could do no such thing. Aside from needing her for Joshua and needing the horses she’d taken, a real worry for her well-being weighed in his heart. Like it or not, Miss Madsen was his responsibility. If anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself. It was one thing to disrupt her life for a year or so, but it would be entirely different if he were the one responsible for ending it.

That, added to the other guilt he already carried, might well do him in. And this time, he’d have no one to shift the blame to. It was he who’d been so unkind today. He who’d told her to be quiet and leave him alone. For once, it appeared she’d done just as he had asked.

Thayne struggled on, ignoring his tired muscles and empty stomach. His parched throat demanded he stop for a drink, but he ignored the pain and continued moving. If he was thirsty, she was near dehydration. If his legs hurt from running, hers were likely stiff and sore from an afternoon spent clinging to the back of a horse. If he felt wary, alone out in the open, she was completely vulnerable—defenseless against any animal or human that might do her harm.

He remembered, all too well, the scene he’d come upon during his first visit to the Hills. A store clerk, intending to set up shop closer to the miners to make his fortune that way, had packed up two wagons full of merchandise, his wife, and his two daughters, and had headed out alone on the road from Sidney.

Fool,
Thayne thought, not for the first time, though he’d refrained from calling the grief-stricken man that the day he’d found him weeping beside his dead wife on the side of the road. His daughters were nowhere to be seen. A lone man traveling these parts with three women was akin to walking willfully into a den of lions. The family hadn’t stood a chance, and two days outside the Hills a gang like the Martins had put a heinous end to their adventure.

A chill gripped Thayne’s heart as he thought of Miss Madsen meeting a similar fate. He was just as much a fool as the shopkeeper had been, and if something happened to Emma, it would be entirely his fault.

Five minutes later, he shouted with relief when he saw one of the horses he’d purchased in Sidney grazing quietly in the grass beside the road. Emma’d been smart, taking both animals so he couldn’t follow. But at some point, this one must have gotten away, or she was far enough from camp she’d felt it was safe to let him go.

Slowing his pace, Thayne walked quietly to the horse.

“There, boy,” he said, patting the animal’s side. With caution he mounted and was pleased to see the horse didn’t seem overly skittish. Whatever she’d done, it didn’t appear Emmalyne had spooked the animal.

Bareback was not Thayne’s favorite, but if Miss Madsen could manage, he certainly could too. Urging the horse into a gallop, he followed the road south, hoping he’d catch up with Emmalyne before dark and, more fervently than that, hoping he’d catch her before something or someone else did.

A half hour of hard riding later there was still no sign of Emma. The sun sank lower on the horizon, and Thayne’s worry increased. He gazed out across the empty prairie, imagining her hurt, lost, alone—or, worst of all, at the mercy of some other man. At least when she’d left him before, she’d been within a day of town, and she’d had a gun and water. Best he could tell, she had nothing with her now. Nothing except an animal that had to be weary and her own misguided, stubborn will.

Grudgingly, he admitted to himself that he admired that will, admired her—liked her even. Enough that he’d spent the day trying hard to avoid thinking of her close proximity in the wagon last night or their kiss in Sidney and the possibility of kissing her again.

Last thing I need is another woman. Can’t have one anyway—even if I did want one.

He rode on, retracing the path they’d followed the past two days. It was near full dark now, and he missed his lantern, missed Emma, and tried not to give up hope. As the last of the sun dipped below the horizon, it seemed the temperature went with it, and the perspiration across Thayne’s forehead brought an unwelcome chill.

The road continued due south, but he had a sudden premonition he should leave it. He was nearing the sand dunes, a part of their journey that had deeply troubled Emma. Perhaps she had ventured off the trail, hoping to find another way around. Knowing full well it was best to trust his instinct, Thayne slowed his horse and moved over to the side of the road, searching the ground for any hoofprint, any clue that Emma might have gone another direction.

Some minutes later, his careful searching was rewarded when he saw unmistakable prints veering off the road and continuing east through the sand. He followed the prints about a quarter of a mile, then saw his second horse standing alone.

“Emma!” Thayne called as he reined in his horse. Before dismounting, he looked all around, eyes straining to see more than a few feet in the dark. He brought his hands to his mouth, cupping them. “Miss Madsen!” His voice echoed across the prairie, but there was no reply.

Thayne slid from his horse and quickly hobbled it with the other near a clump of sagebrush. He began walking a circumference around the animals. It was possible she’d met up with other travelers and left the horse behind. But if so, he reasoned, her horse wouldn’t be so far off the road. He walked a bigger and bigger circle—until at last he caught a flash of white in the moonlight. Emma’s bonnet lay at his feet. He knelt to pick it up, wrapping his fingers around it as dread curled around his heart.

“Emmalyne!” It was foolish to proclaim his presence so loudly, but he didn’t care. Whatever—whoever had her—might be stopped if he made enough commotion. He ran in a staggering pattern back and forth, eyes straining to see anything. His boots kicked up dirt, and low growing brush scratched against his pant leg. He nearly tripped over a stockinged foot sticking up through the foliage.

Thayne dropped to the ground, reaching for her. She lay sprawled on the ground, limbs bent at odd angles, her skirt immodestly high on her calf. His heart lurched. At the least, she’d been thrown. Worse, she might—

“Emma,” he whispered, his voice strangely gruff. Placing a finger at her neck, he felt a pulse, slow and steady. He pulled the canteen from his waist and unscrewed the lid, pouring a little of the precious water between her lips. He spoke her name louder.

Several seconds passed, and her eyes fluttered open. He expelled a sigh of relief and barely checked the impulse to gather her in his arms.

The vivid, painful memory of little Joshua, lying much as she was, flashed before him. Thayne felt relief anew, as he had the moment Joshua had regained consciousness after his fall down the stairs. But on the heels of that relief had come the devastating realization that his son was not all right.

“Can you move?” Thayne asked.

“I think so.” She started to nod, then winced, bringing a hand to the back of her head.

His fingers brushed hers as he gently probed the spot she’d touched. “There’s no blood,” he reassured her. “But you’ve a fine goose egg to be sure. Must have hit your head when you fell.” He held the canteen to her lips while she drank, then helped her lie back down. “Your legs all right?” he asked, trying to keep the worry from his voice.

Slowly, she pulled them together, then reached for her skirt as she realized her calf was exposed.

He’d have bet that even in the dark she blushed as he helped smooth the fabric down to her ankles.

“Thank you,” she said and raised both arms to show him they too were fine, save for some scratches.

Thayne said his own silent thanks as he looked around. It appeared they were alone. Nothing else had hurt her. He looked down on her again, his face suddenly stern. Now that he knew Emma was all right, he had to resist the urge to shake her until her teeth rattled. “I told you not to run,” he scolded much more gently than he felt.

“I didn’t run. I
rode
. And I never promised I wouldn’t do that.”

Her logic did nothing to appease his temper. “Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?”

“Yes,” Emmalyne said, forlorn. “I could have made it back to Sidney if I hadn’t fallen asleep.”

“Do you mean to tell me you fell off that horse because you were
sleeping
?” Without waiting for her answer, he gave a grunt of disgust and sat back.

“Well, it was difficult to ride, leaning forward like that—and I guess I was a bit tired after all,” she sheepishly added.

Thayne shook his head as he looked up at the sky and the stars starting to come out. She was the most accident prone yet fortunate female he’d ever encountered. Who else could survive being pushed off a train, bit by a rattler,
and
thrown from a horse within a few days’ time? That kind of luck couldn’t hold. She had to quit making such foolish decisions.

He looked over and saw she was lying perfectly still. Perhaps she was hurt worse than she’d let on—or
sleeping
again. Not a good idea with that bump on her head.

“Emma, we need to have a talk.”

“Shouldn’t we be getting back to camp? What about the wagon?”

“I had to leave it behind,” Thayne said sarcastically. “No horses.”

In the moonlight he caught the chagrined look that crossed her face, but she didn’t apologize.

“I’ll have you know,” he said, “that if someone takes the wagon and we end up without food and water, this time it will be entirely
your
fault.”

“I suppose,” she said, struggling to sit up. “So let’s go.”

Thayne noticed her grimace and put his arm around her, bracing her back. “Something hurting?”

“
Everything
hurts.” She clenched her teeth together.

He pulled her against his chest, reasoning it was just so she wouldn’t fall back. “Likely you’ll hurt for a few days. You might as well relax for now. We’re going to be here a while. The horses need to rest.” Her head was just below his chin, those brown curls within his reach. He tried not to think about that.

She brought both hands to her face, stifled a yawn, then leaned forward, her forehead resting in her palms.

“Oh no you don’t,” Thayne said. “The horses get to rest. Not you. Sleeping after a head injury can be dangerous.”

She groaned. “I’m sorry. About the wagon.”

“You’re sorry you got caught.”

She turned her head, looking up at him. “
Especially
sorry about that.”

“Thought so.” He bit back a smile.

She made no reply but kept her gaze locked with his for several agonizing seconds. It was Thayne who finally turned away.
It’s a good thing we’re almost to the Hills where we’ll have some company. I can’t take much more of this.

“I trusted you this afternoon,” he said. “Enough that I felt I could rest without worrying about tying you up—got the best sleep I’ve had in a long while.” He hadn’t thought about it before now, but this afternoon had been the first time in months—eighteen, to be exact—that he’d slept well. Without his hand on his gun or worry in his heart. That realization, and what it meant, hit him forcefully. “It’d be helpful if you’d trust me the same way.”

She scoffed. “Generally, I don’t make a habit of trusting men who prod me along with a gun in my back, tie me to wagon wheels, and poison me.”

Thayne rolled his eyes. “Of all the backward—I did
not
poison you, and I only tied you up the once.”

“And the gun?” Emmalyne asked.

“I had to get you moving, had to get some space between us and the Martins.”

Emmalyne pressed her lips together.

Thayne didn’t bother asking what she was trying not to say. That she chose to be quiet suited him fine. It was about time she started listening. “Everything I’ve done since you went and got yourself pushed off that train has been for your protection. Tying you up was even for your protection so you wouldn’t go and do some fool thing like you did today. What were you thinking, leaving without food or water? Do you even know how to ride a horse?”

“Of course I do. I had riding lessons—a long time ago. My teacher said I was the worst student he’d ever had, but no matter. I remembered what I needed to today.” She lifted her head, and Thayne heard pride in her voice. “And I have an apple in my pocket.” Her back stiffened. “Forgive me if I didn’t see the need to pack a proper picnic. The most important thing seemed getting away from
you
. You said the road from Sidney was well traveled. I fully expected to find assistance.”

“Oh, you’d have been
assisted
all right.” It was Thayne’s turn to hold his tongue. Grateful she’d stirred up his anger more than the other feelings he’d been fighting, he eased his arm away and faced her. “Do you have any idea what kind of people travel this road?”

When she didn’t answer, he reached out and lifted her chin, forcing her gaze up to his. “Miners, gamblers, thieves. That’s who you were like to meet. Why do you think we travel at night?”

“So you won’t get caught by the law?”

“No.” He shook his head, exasperated. “Because that’s the best way I know to protect you. I’m only one man, and if we were to meet up with others, there’s only so much I could do. There is
no
law in these parts, and the men going to the Hills are a greedy lot, looking to make a fast fortune however they can. Most would be only too eager to take advantage of a skirt passing their way.”