Claiming the Cowboy's Heart (25 page)

* * *

Harry jerked awake and glowered at Jayne. “I’m tired of this game.” He lurched to his feet.

Jayne shrank back, her heart tightening. What would he do to her? She pushed her fear aside. Do something to distract him, she told herself. Think. What could she do? “What’s so important about this key?” He had murdered for it. And likely would not hesitate to do so again.

Her mouth dried so much her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

He gave a mirthless laugh. “Don’t play games with me.”

“It’s no game. I don’t know.”

He sank back on his haunches and studied her.

She met his eyes and hoped she revealed none of her fear or loathing, only curious innocence.

“Huh. Guess Oliver was too smart to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” She didn’t have to pretend because she had no idea what he talked about.

He snorted. “Your friend was a cardsharp. A cheat. Did you know that?”

She shook her head. She knew Oliver had gambled. He’d made no secret of it. He often commented on how fortunate he’d been and said he’d won big. But would he cheat? At one time she would have instantly defended him but now she wondered. Had she really known anything about Oliver? He’d never talked about fears, hopes, or even his childhood, apart from the places he’d lived. Likewise, she had never confessed her doubts and fears to him.

Not like she had with Seth.

Oh, Seth. Why did you leave? We had something together.

Had the feeling only been on her side?

Harry shifted and spat and she spoke, desperate to keep him talking. So long as he talked, perhaps he wouldn’t act. “I guess I didn’t know him as well as I thought.”

Harry grunted. “He fooled you, too, huh?”

She gave a half shrug. If she’d been fooled it was only because she was naive. Or, as Seth said, foolish. She’d been so blind, so trusting, so needy that she hadn’t even asked questions.

“So does this key have something to do with what Oliver might have done?”

Harry said a nasty word. Didn’t bother to muffle it nor did he apologize. “That man of yours—”

She didn’t object, even though Oliver was dead and could never be her man but also because she’d never felt like they’d had that sort of bond.

“He played a dirty hand of poker. Stole every penny I had. I ask you, how am I supposed to keep a household going without any money? Then he had the audacity to lock the money into a strongbox and taunt me with the key. The key he gave you. He said I’d never locate it either. But he didn’t know how desperate I was. I should have known he wouldn’t keep it on him. But I had to be certain. Surprised me to think he’d give it to you.” The smile on his lips dripped evil. “Guess he didn’t care much about your safety.”

Jayne could not still the shudder that raced up her spine.

“Ha, ha. I see you think as little of him for doing that as I do.” He sprang forward until he was practically nose to nose with Jayne.

Fear said to close her eyes. But she would never again give in to her fear because of this man and she opened her eyes wide and glared defiantly at him, ignoring the fetid smell of his breath.

“So, pretty lady, it’s time to stop playing games. Where is the key?” He spat the words out, along with moisture that landed on her cheeks.

With no way to wipe off the drops, she ignored them and leaned forward as far as the ropes allowed. “I do not know.” She delivered her words with as much force as he had.

His face reddened. “You are a fool.”

She would not back down in face of his anger.

He clamped his fingers on her face, pressing her cheeks against her teeth until she tasted blood.

How could she give him something she didn’t have? But the man was beyond reason. He believed she had a key to a strongbox and would not be convinced otherwise.

Reaching around her, deliberately pressing into her body, he cut through the ropes at her wrists, having no concern for the fact the blade nicked her skin.

The pain meant nothing to her. She’d face far worse before this ordeal ended but she would not give him the satisfaction of making her beg or cry. As she considered how she’d rip his eyeballs out if she got the chance, the pain disappeared, blocked by the desire to claw his face.

He sat back and looked at her. And laughed. “Don’t think there is some way you can make me change my mind. Ha. I’m not giving up until I get that key.” He grabbed her hands and dragged them to the front of her.

Pins and needles filled her arms. She wanted to rub them away but he held her in a cruel grip.

“I will find that key if I have to torture you to death.”

“Shoot me and get it over with.”

He laughed again, a wicked sound that would live forever in her brain. Though forever might be a matter of minutes.
God, I’m trusting You. Either rescue me or enable me to face this with dignity.

“What good would that do me? Nope. I figure a few cuts with my knife and maybe a little sport with your body—” He eyed her breasts, leaving her no doubt what he meant. “I figure that will convince you to tell me where the key is.”

Despite the shiver that passed through her, she clenched her teeth so hard she imagined the enamel cracked but she refused to reveal a shred of fear.

With a quick slash that trapped a scream in her throat, he cut the ropes holding her ankles and jerked her to her feet. “I’ve run out of patience.”

Her legs numb from being bound, she struggled to stay upright as he dragged her across the clearing.

Oh, God
. Her silent prayer wailed through her mind. Would He rescue her or take her to heaven?
Please make it swift and painless. Give me courage.

But it wasn’t courage she felt. It was cold, mind-sucking fear that drained her insides of strength. Her knees folded. But he held her by the elbows and continued their journey.

To what? She closed her eyes and did not let the possible answers come.

Chapter Eighteen

S
eth edged closer, carefully silent.

He heard a man’s guttural voice but had no way of knowing if it was the Englishman he suspected had taken Jayne. But who else would it be? When the voice came again, he detected an English accent.

No female voice came to him. Where was Jayne?

The man shuffled and grunted as if dragging something heavy across the grass. Something like a body.

Seth’s limbs froze. He couldn’t go on. Was it Jayne’s body being dragged? Then fire burned through his veins. He would tear the man from limb to limb if he’d hurt Jayne.

His first instinct told him to beat through the bushes in a mad rush, but good sense told him surprise was his biggest weapon. So he checked each step before he lowered his foot.

A minute later he saw movement. A man’s back. When the man shifted, Seth saw her. Jayne, her hair loose and tangled about her face. Was she alive? He couldn’t tell from where he stood.

He edged closer, keeping a shield of trees before him.

Jayne’s eyes were wide, flashing anger, her jaw set.

His legs wobbled. She was alive.
Thank You, God.

Her determination would serve her well.

The pair shifted. Jayne’s pretty blue dress was torn, exposing her neck. Had he molested her? Harmed her? Bile rose in his throat and he choked back a growl. Any man who hurt Jayne would pay at Seth’s hands. His fists curled. He would exact justice. Though hanging would be the man’s due. His fists relaxed. He would let the law mete out justice.

How was he to get Jayne away?
God, help me
.

He edged to one side. If no one noticed him, he stood a chance of getting to the trees close to the man. From there he would burst forth and press his gun to the man’s head. He palmed his pistol in preparation and began the slow circle to his left. He dared not rush. Any sound would alert the man and ruin the element of surprise. He sucked back a breath and held it as he slid through the trees.

The horse whinnied.

Seth jerked to a halt. If he didn’t move the man might not notice him.

The scoundrel pulled Jayne to his chest. A metallic flash caught the sun’s rays. Seth’s heart slammed into his ribs as he saw the man held a knife to her throat.

“Who’s there?” he called. Slowly he circled, his arm so tight about Jayne she clearly struggled to breathe.

Seth prayed the man would not see him.

“You. In the trees. Step out where I can see you.”

So much for hoping for invisibility. He shoved his gun into his back waistband. If he got any sort of chance he would use it.

“Hands in the air.”

The man had a voice of evil. But then Seth might have a prejudiced opinion.

He stepped into the clearing and smiled at Jayne. A tight smile he hoped offered encouragement.

Something flickered across her eyes. Her gaze darted to the side. He shifted slightly so he could look without being too obvious. Her brocade bag. No doubt she wanted the gun but he didn’t need hers. He had one he meant to use.

“I wondered if you’d come looking for your lady friend.”

“You wondered right. What do you want with her?”

“She knows and she’s playing dumb.”

Jayne managed to croak, “He thinks I have a key but I know nothing about one.”

Seth glanced about. Pretended not to understand. “You think the key is here.”

“I’m not stupid. She has it somewhere. I expect she brought it with her. Maybe brought the strongbox, too.” He jerked her tighter against him and brought the knife closer to her throat. “Stop stalling and tell me where it is.” He grunted as if an idea had embedded into his brain. “Better yet, show me.” He shoved her forward, still gripping her arms.

Seth growled when she stumbled. “You’re hurting her.”

“Yeah. So what? It might convince her I’m serious.”

“Harry, I believe you but I can’t help you,” Jayne managed to say. “You’re mistaken about the key.”

“I know what I saw.”

“Harry, is it?” Seth asked. “Maybe you should listen to her.”

“She’s lying.” He noticed that Seth has edged closer. “Stop right there. You must have a gun. Toss it aside.”

Seth didn’t move. Harry had no way of knowing he had a gun at his back and Seth didn’t intend for him to find out.

Harry pressed the knife tighter to Jayne’s throat. A drop of crimson blood dripped from the blade.

A reeling sensation as big as the heavens swept over Seth. He had never before considered throwing caution to the wind. But he wanted nothing so much as to launch himself at Harry, wrench his knife from him, press it to his throat and apply enough pressure to bring out a few drops of the man’s own blood.

Only the knowledge of how little it would take for that knife to end Jayne’s life kept him from springing forward.

Seth kept his hands up. “You see any guns?”

“Don’t toy with me. Turn around. Unless you’d like to see your lady friend bleed.”

If the knife went any deeper, Jayne’s life would be in danger. Seth turned slowly, knowing Harry couldn’t miss his gun.

“So you think you can toy with me. Take it out slowly and toss it to the side. And no funny stuff.”

What choice did he have? He couldn’t hope to swing his gun into position without risking Jayne’s life. So he gingerly pulled the gun from his waistband and tossed it to the side. But if he got the chance he would retrieve it and shoot the man.

Or if the man lowered the knife, he would snatch Jayne away. Let the man use the knife on Seth if he wanted but Seth would not stand by and watch Jayne hurt if he had it in his power to stop it.

“I might know what you’re looking for. If you let her go, I’ll take you there.” If Harry would release Jayne…

“I don’t think you’re in a bargaining position. Where’s the key?” He spilled another drop of Jayne’s blood.

“Look. Take my gun. You’ve got a knife. What chance do I have against you? But I won’t take a step unless you let her go.”

“You like to see her suffer, do you?”

“No. Stop.” Harry would kill her if Seth kept it up. “I lied. I don’t know anything about a key. I only hoped to trick you.”

With a growl, the man shoved Jayne to one side, his hand holding her like a vise. “You think you can toy with me?” He lunged toward Seth.

Seth brought both hands down as hard as he could on Harry’s arms. The man shrieked and loosened his grip on Jayne. Seth shoved her to the side. “Run. Get away.”

Harry’s knife slashed toward Seth’s heart. He wrenched to one side. The knife caught him in the ribs. So this was what a knife wound felt like. Burning. Searing.

But the burning didn’t slow him down. He had to protect Jayne. He threw reason and caution aside. His anger burned so fierce that if he’d been made of wood, he would have ignited and set both of them on fire. A satisfying picture.

“Seth, you’re hurt.”

Why was she still here? “Jayne, go get help.” At least she’d be out of danger’s way if she went after Eddie. Though he didn’t expect help would arrive in time to do any good.

The knife came at him again. Seth grabbed Harry’s wrist. Harry growled and tried to twist away. Seth would not release his arm. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of blue. Jayne! How could he protect her if she didn’t use her common sense and leave?

* * *

Jayne’s throat closed off as she watched Seth struggle to get the knife from Harry’s hand. Seth expected her to leave. Run and get help.

But all thought of escape fled when she noticed blood trickled down Seth’s side.

She had watched one man bleed to death. She would not let it happen again. She gritted her teeth. She would not run and leave Seth. There must be something she could do. Seth’s gun. Where was it? There. Not two feet from where she stood.

Just as it had been when Harry had shot Oliver.

Only this time Jayne didn’t intend to stand by and let it happen.

As the men struggled for the knife, their attention away from her, she rushed forward and scooped up the gun. She hadn’t known Seth to carry a loaded pistol but prayed,
Lord, let it be loaded this time
. Without consciously considering Seth’s step-by-step instructions, she took her stance and aimed. Her arm lowered. If she missed, she might hit Seth. Might kill him this time.