The Lady and the Lawman (25 page)

“
Let
me go!” she screamed.

Clearly
she’d missed her intended target, who unfortunately appeared to be
in one piece and powerfully strong as he trussed her up like a
Thanksgiving turkey. The only effect of her shot was to send her
horse running, snorting and whinnying, fearful of the noise.

The
man stood, reached down and pulled her up none-too-gently by her
bound wrists, all but dragging her to his horse. But he let her go so
he could grab the reins. She didn’t hesitate to dash off toward the
creek, running as fast as she could to escape, bound wrists and all.

“
Dammit!”
She heard the man shout from behind her, then heavy footfalls.
Frantic, she didn’t pay attention to the rocky terrain of the creek
bed. Looking over her shoulder to see how far behind the man was, she
tripped. Screaming, she fell, and with her arms bound together in,
was unable to protect herself from the jagged rock that made her
world go black.

***

“
What
do you mean she’s gone?” Grant yelled at his brother, ready to
pull him up by the collar of his shirt if he didn’t start talking.
He’d arrived at the ranch to bring Maggie back to his home—their
home—in town. Her help was needed in identifying the stage robber
and he had a job to do. Allowing her to stay on with Tom only delayed
his search.

“
Here.”
Tom thrust Maggie’s note at him and walked away, leaving him to
stand on the porch by himself. The screen door slammed behind him,
but Grant didn’t hear it or the curse Tom shouted at him, too
intent on his reading.

TOM,
I AM GOING TO CALIFORNIA AS I ORIGINALLY PLANNED. YOUR KINDNESS AND
FRIENDSHIP MEAN MORE TO ME THAN YOU WILL EVER KNOW. TELL THE SHERIFF
GOODBYE. MARGARET

He
read it over two more times. It still said the same thing. She was
gone.

“
I
should’ve locked her up like I promised,” Grant said, following
Tom inside.

“
That’s
right, locking her in jail would have solved all your problems.”

“
What’s
that look for?” Grant wondered, recognizing the glare his brother
gave him.

“
You
are such an idiot sometimes.” Tom shook his head.

“
What?”
Grant was so frustrated, his hands were fists at his sides.

“
You
really don’t know, do you?”

Grant
just continued to stare at him.

“
Maggie
left because you didn’t want her anymore.”

“
I
didn’t want her? She knew how much I wanted her the other night in
the line shack.”

Tom
gave him an evil eye as he sat down at the table.

“
She
didn’t want me!”

“
You
walked out on her.” Tom rocked back on the rear chair legs, the
toes of his boots touching the wood floor.

Grant’s
hair practically stood up on end from his fingers. “She went to you
when that bastard Hunt was here. You’re the one she told all of her
troubles to. You’re the one she became friends with. You’re the
one who was supposed to marry her, regardless of how much I want
her.” He could hear the jealousy in his own words and was
embarrassed.

Tom
dropped his chair and put his elbows on the table. “Well, she’s
got your ring on her finger, not mine. She’s your wife. Now tell me
what you’re going to do about it!”

“
Hell.”
Grant couldn’t think of anything to say. He'd told her he wanted
her. No, he'd told her he wanted her body. He'd never told Maggie
that he wanted her, as a woman. His stupid jealousy and anger with
himself was enough to drive him crazy, but now, he had to go and
track down a wife who believed she wasn’t wanted.

“
I’ve
got work to do.” Tom stood and left Grant alone in the kitchen.

***

Hours
later when Margaret woke, her head felt like a watermelon fallen from
a vendors stall onto the street. She felt the arms surrounding her,
and believed they were Grant. She relaxed against the hard body,
grateful for the comfort and protection his arms offered.

The
strong stench of male sweat mixed with the hot sun brought her back
to reality.

How
could she think this man’s body was anything like Grant’s? She
felt nothing but revulsion for this man who held her prisoner. He was
leaner and he held her tightly within the span o
f
his bony arms. R
ealization
made Margaret sit ramrod straight, trying to put as much space—fresh
air—between them as possible without falling off the horse.

No
matter the desire Grant’s hold had brought, it didn’t matter.
He’d left her. He didn’t want her and she’d never have his arms
around her again. She was on her own. She felt miserable. Wallowing
in self-pity, she succumbed to the pain in her head and in her heart.
Hot tears rolled down her burned cheeks.

The
sun moved lower in the sky and they still didn’t stop. The ropes
began digging into her wrists. Her skin, rubbed raw in places, the
rest marked red by the rough fibers, had become painful. She had been
tied up several hours and her hands were numb. A snarled curl floated
in front of her face. She tried to blow it off without any luck.

Luck
definitely wasn’t going her way today, and she winced at the pain
in her temple that proved it. She’d have been better off staying in
a loveless, unwanted marriage.

Her
straw bonnet had been lost in the tussle. Unused to the intense heat,
Margaret could feel her usually milky white skin becoming burned more
deeply.

The
evil man sat behind her, arms around her holding the reins to prevent
her from falling off the horse. She could smell him with each breath
she took.

Keeping
her mind clear of her worthless marriage, she was relieved she hadn’t
already been raped and killed, thankful for every passing moment she
was kept alive. If the man wanted her, he could take her at any time.
Her mind raced, thinking of her predicament. Her captor held her
future in his hands. She looked up at the sky and squinted against
the sun, trying to think of a way to escape.

“
The
ropes are digging into my wrists. Can you please take them off?”
Margaret asked several times during the long journey, but he turned a
deaf ear.

“
Look
around you, where can I go? You know I could never outrun you. You’re
much too strong a man.” She tried to sound meek, which wasn't far
from the truth, especially with her head throbbing so badly. She
tried using the pitiful tone some of her acquaintances at home used
on their husbands or fathers to get their way. She’d refused to use
the ploy in the past. She felt it too childish and always refused to
stoop to that level, but she was desperate. Hopefully, he’d
succumb.

“
Since
we're so far from town, I'll undo you, but no funny stuff.” He spit
more tobacco out the side of his mouth as he spoke.

He
fell for it! She felt a brief burst of relief. She reminded herself
to thank the mindless twits back home.

“
But
don't try anything or you'll be dead before you hit the ground.” To
reinforce he meant what he said, he brushed the cold metal of his gun
across her neck.

Her
relief fled. She gulped down her rising fear and nodded in
understanding.

Holding
the reins in one hand, he undid the ropes. Her hands were free, but
he still sat behind her. She rubbed the feeling back into her
fingers, careful to avoid the reddened, raw skin. Were her wrists
going to be scarred from being tied up so painfully twice in only a
few weeks? Her hands were free, but all she had gained was comfort.
She still couldn’t escape, not with the big lug sitting right
behind her.

Who
was going to save her now? No one knew where she was. She looked up
at the sky, so blue,
bigge
r
than she’d ever seen before. Another tear slid down her cheek. It
was time to get herself out of this mess. But how?

Well,
she definitely got what she’d wished for. No one knew where she
was, but unfortunately, neither did she.

***

“
Maggie’s
in trouble.”

Grant
had resigned himself to tracking his wife down. He returned to town
to find information about the stage heading west when Tom rode up so
fast, dust from the narrow road swirled up around them.

Closing
his eyes for a moment as he waited for the grit to settle, he
replied, “What do you mean, ‘in trouble’? She’s back?”
Grant wasn’t sure if he should be worried or mad. If she’d
returned, he was the last to hear. As her husband, that made him mad.
But concern took over, and no matter her actions, if she was in
trouble, he wanted to help.

“
No,
she’s not back, but her horse is.”

Grant’s
gut told him there was definitely a problem, and he knew Tom hadn’t
shared everything. “What else?”

“
The
animal’s been shot.”

Grant’s
eyes widened. “Shot?”

Tom
nodded. “Not badly, in her flank. Clean through, but she was
bleeding a bit and very skittish. I got her fixed up and she’s
fine.”

“
And
Maggie?”

“
I
don’t know. Something’s happened, bad enough that there was
gunfire. She could be out there dead.”

And
all because of me.
Grant’s
gut churned even worse now with guilt and fear. “Stay here in case
she comes back. I’ll go look for her.”

***

Margaret’s
entire body was achy and sore from sharing a saddle and remaining
tense for hours on end, keeping her distance as best as possible from
her captor.

Finally,
the man pulled on the reins and halted the animal in front of a
fast-moving creek. In all that had happened, she hadn’t been paying
attention to where they were headed. Had they been following the same
creek all along? They were close to the mountains now and the tall
formations blocked out the sun this late in the day, making it
cooler. He dismounted behind her, and she looked at the man for
direction.

“
What’re
you doing up there? Get your butt down! Go get some water.” He
waited for her to dismount on her own, then followed her down the
banks to the creek bed. Her lips were cracked and dry, and her throat
was parched. She was unsure if she could even speak. Not sure she
wanted to. He wasn’t much of a conversationalist, and she
definitely wasn’t going to share recipes with the man. Kneeling in
the large pebbles by the edge of the overflowing creek, she leaned
down on one hand and used the other to scoop the cool water into her
mouth. Taking big gulps, she ignored him as he filled his canteen
next to her. The water was bitterly cold from melting snow runoff,
but delicious, soothing her dry throat. Drinking her fill, she
splashed cool water on her face and wiped her hair off of her
forehead, sticky from sweat.

“
We’re
sleepin' here for the night. I’m goin’ over to my bag to get out
the food. If you try anything, I swear I’ll shoot you.”

Relieved
she was off the horse and refreshed by the water, she nodded, no
intention of escaping into t
he
growing darkness.
He
walked to a grassy spot away from the water with a frying pan under
one arm. He carried two tins of food with the other. Dropping them
to the ground, he rounded up some wood and started a fire.

At
a loss for such rustic abilities, she was glad the man was adept at
something useful, like keeping them warm through the night. She
shivered and rubbed her hands over her arms, already thinking the
temperature had dropped a few degrees.