Yellowstone Romance Series - Bundle (# 2-5) (35 page)

“Are you hurt?” he asked a third time, softening his tone.

She shook her head. “No,” she whispered.

He didn’t believe her for a second. Silently, he cursed Laughing Badger.

“What’s going to happen to me?” she asked softly, and raised her head more fully, glancing around. Her hand swept some loose strands of hair from her face.

Kyle sucked in a deep breath. He couldn’t let her know that Laughing Badger intended to sell her to the highest bidder, Indian or white man, the first chance he got. “Nothing. Don’t worry about that right now. I’ll make sure no harm comes to you.”

Her eyes grew even larger than before. She looked at him, and studied his face. Then her eyes lingered on his hands tied against the tree behind his back.  A sudden warm sensation doused him under her perusal. “But, you’re a prisoner,” she finally said in her soft, nearly inaudible voice. “What can you possibly do to help?”

Kyle ground his teeth. He was still working out that little detail. “I’ll think of something,” he answered.

She seemed to accept his answer, and nodded her head slightly. Her chin dropped again, and she stared at the delicate hands in her lap. The wide skirt of her silk dress fanned out around her. Kyle wondered again what stupid man would bring a woman into the wilderness. This woman, heck she was no more than a mere girl, wore expensive clothing he’d seen fancy ladies wear in Virginia City or Helena.

Kyle encountered adventurers and dandy easterners on a regular basis, and his wonder never ceased as to what these men were thinking. Coming to this remote wilderness was not a Sunday picnic ride like they were used to in their big, fancy cities.  Whenever someone commissioned him as guide through the region, Kyle made it his habit to inspect every piece of equipment these inexperienced greenhorns brought with them. On most, if not all, occasions, he rejected more than half of the useless and cumbersome supplies they intended to trek through the wilderness. If they refused to relinquish what he intended to leave behind, Kyle did not accept the assignment. He would never allow a woman to come along.

A man had to be prepared for anything here, and death was a breath away at every turn.
Yeah, look at yourself. You grew up in these mountains, and your carelessness might be the end of you come morning.
He could see the headline in the Helena Gazette already
. “Famous mountain man’s son succumbs to Indians. Kyle Russell is unable to duplicate his legendary father’s feat, and dies at the hands of a band of Crow warriors.”
He scoffed again at his own stupidity.

Kyle watched in silence as the village settled in for the evening. Cooking fires burned brightly, and families sat outside their teepees. Children played with rocks and sticks, and the women served food to the men. Kyle’s own stomach grumbled loudly. When darkness had fully descended on them, he noticed the old woman who’d brought him water shuffle slowly toward him again. She turned her head over her shoulder once, then straightened her hunched back as best as she could, and hurried to him.

“I bring some food,” she said in a hushed tone. Her voice startled the girl next to him. She gasped in surprise when she saw the Indian woman, and inched closer to him. Kyle’s skin tingled when her knee made contact with his thigh. He mentally shook his head, confused by his reaction.

“Thank you for your kindness, grandmother,” he said to the ancient Indian woman. “Give the food to her, if she’ll eat it.” He turned his head to the girl hovering next to him. “Are you hungry?” he asked quietly. She looked up at him with her big doe eyes, and nodded her head slightly. The urge to wrap his arms around her, and protect her, hit him with such intensity, he strained against his bindings.

The old woman held a bowl out for her. The girl accepted it hesitantly, and looked at the contents. Large chunks of meat filled the container.

“I must return to my teepee,” the old woman said, and hurried off. No sooner had she turned her back, and the girl grabbed a piece of meat and tore into it hungrily. Kyle drew his eyebrows together, watching her devour the food. How long had she gone without eating?

Only one piece remained before she lifted her head, panic in her eyes when she met his gaze. “I . . . I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I left hardly any for you.”

Kyle grinned. “You look like you need it more than I do. I actually ate just before you showed up,” he lied, and motioned with his chin for her to finish the food. She hesitated. “Go on, finish it,” he coaxed. Slowly, she reached for the last piece of meat, and held it to her lips. Her eyes stayed on him from beneath long lashes, a silent thank you evident in their depths. He groaned silently.

“Do you have a name?” he asked, in an effort to distract himself.

“Kate Ellen,” she said quietly, swiping the back of her hand across her glistening lips in a most unladylike fashion. Then she wiped her hand on the skirt of her dress.

“That’s a mouth full,” he said. “Nice to meet you, Kate Ellen. I’m Kyle.”

Her eyebrows drew together. “And that’s an unusual name.” She smiled tentatively. Kyle’s heart rate increased.

“Yeah, well, my pop gave it to me, and he’s an unusual man.” He grinned, then his face went somber. “Listen, if I can get these dam . . . darn ropes off me, we can get out of here once everyone sleeps. Laughing Badger is not the brightest man I know, or he would have thought to tie you up, as well.”

Kate Ellen’s hands reached up, and she fumbled with the leather thongs at his wrists. After several attempts, the panic returned to her eyes. “I can’t loosen the knots,” she said.

“I have a small knife concealed in my britches,” he said. “I just can’t reach it. If you can . . . ah, get it out, it’ll cut right through this leather.”

To his astonishment, she didn’t flinch or hesitate at his suggestion that she needed to stick her hand into his britches. “Where exactly is the knife?” she asked.

“Right up against my left thigh, below my hip.” He studied her face for a reaction. She merely nodded. He adjusted his position so he sat more on his right hipbone, jutting the left up toward her.
Think of falling into the Hell Mouth, Kyle. Anything but this pretty girl’s hands in your britches.
He clenched his jaw.

Kate Ellen slowly pushed her soft hand between his skin and the waistband of his buckskin pants. His gut tightened, and no matter what faraway thoughts he trained his mind on, his body had other ideas, and he could feel the blood pooling in his groin. Thankfully the knife sat to the outside of his thigh. Her silky fingers seemed to caress his skin as they inched further down his leg. Suddenly, death by torture seemed easier to endure than the sensations coursing through him at this moment. He prayed to God she didn’t brush up against his arousal.

Kyle felt her grip the flat handle of the small blade, and slowly pull it upward. When her hand pulled free of his britches, he expelled the breath he’s been holding. “Good girl,” he said, his voice hoarse. Kate Ellen smiled triumphantly at him, and wasted no time sawing through his bindings.

When the last of the leather was cut through, the blood rushed through his hands and fingers, and he fought the urge to pull his arms forward. He had to bide his time. Not everyone in the village was asleep yet.

“Now what do we do?” Kate Ellen asked.

“We wait.”

Chapter 2

Kate sat in silence next to this man who said he could get her away from the Indians.  She wasn’t sure why they couldn’t make their escape right away, what he was waiting for, but she didn’t ask. Experience had taught her not to question a man’s actions. Discreetly, she glanced at him while trying to keep her head down, pretending to look at the ground. The encroaching darkness made it more difficult to see him clearly. Only the faint glow from several campfires that were still lit many yards away from them gave her any light to see by.

How did a rugged-looking man like Kyle end up a prisoner in this Indian camp? From his looks, and the way he spoke the Indian’s gibberish, told her he was no stranger to the mountains.  His britches were made of leather, his shirt was an off-white cotton covered in dried mud, and he wore moccasins. Hardly the type of attire a man in the city would wear. His unruly blond hair hung forward over his eyes and several inches past his shoulders, giving him an untamed, almost feral look, but Kate liked his appearance. Not only was he pleasing to look at, but he exuded confidence and strength, even while tied up.

Kate smiled softly. Rugged or not, he was a man like any other. His physical reaction to her hand in his britches didn’t go without notice.  He’d tried to hide it, but she’d felt him tense under her touch, and he even held his breath. A man’s attentions were nothing new to her. Ultimately, in a way, it was the reason for her current predicament. The sensation of his solid, muscular thigh against her fingers had left her somewhat flushed as well. She hoped she hid her own reaction well enough.

She wondered if he was what was termed a mountain man. Kate had heard stories of such men before, even read snippets of their adventures in dime store novels back in Boston, but never in her wildest dreams had she imagined she might actually meet one in person.

Would this man be willing to help her? She could dare to hope. The death of her guardian several days ago had left her stranded in the wilderness. After Ezra’s tragic accident, she had no one to get her to safety, and for two days she had wandered aimlessly, searching desperately for some sign of civilization. Even the Indians had been a welcome sight. They had been neither hostile nor friendly to her, and without any other recourse, she had accepted the gesture of the one with the many feathers in his hair to ride the spare horse they had with them.

Her eyes began to sting, and she hastily blinked away the sensation, not wanting to cry more tears and appear weak. She inhaled deeply, and winced at the pain stabbing her back and sides like hot knitting needles. Her corset supported her bruised and perhaps cracked ribs, but the tightly laced garment made breathing difficult. Masking her discomfort became more challenging by the hour.

Kyle must have noticed her body’s jerky movement. She became uncomfortably aware of his penetrating eyes on her through the darkness. Deep brown eyes, she’d noticed earlier. She surprised herself momentarily for recalling such a detail about him.

“Just a little while longer, and we’ll get away from here,” he said quietly. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine,” she answered quickly, and nodded.

“It’s gonna be a rough night, I’ll warn you right now. After I get my horse, we’ll be on the move until sunup.”

“I won’t complain, I promise,” she said firmly. Whatever it took, she would not be a burden.

The last of the fires finally burned themselves out, and everything went dark. The camp was quiet except for the occasional soft snort of a horse, and the loud chirping of crickets all around them. She strained her eyes to see anything, but even the hand she held in front of her was barely visible.

“Ok, Katelyn, time to go.” Kyle’s soft whisper close to her ear sent shivers down her spine.  When had he moved? She hadn’t heard him make a sound.

Katelyn.
The combining of her name seemed so intimate. No one had ever done that before, and the way he said it sounded like an endearment. She turned her head in the direction of his voice. His breath on her cheek raised goose bumps on her arms, and she quickly pulled her head back. When a strong hand wrapped around her upper arm, panic engulfed her for a split second, and she fought the impulse to lash out.

“Let me help you up,” came his reassuring voice. She closed her eyes in relief, and pushed herself off the ground, rising to her feet with his aid. Swaying, she stood on shaky legs, dizzy from sitting for such a prolonged period of time. The absolute darkness only contributed to her disorientation.  She bumped into Kyle’s solid chest, and his firm grip on both her arms steadied her. Kate fought for a normal breath. Her constricting corset was unyielding, and for a moment she thought she might pass out.

“Can you walk?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll be fine. I’m just trying to adjust to the darkness,” she hastily replied. Had there been a note of annoyance in his voice?
Don’t do anything to upset him, Kate. “
I don’t know how you can see anything.”

“Be thankful for the dark. It’s what’ll get us out of here unseen. Hold my hand. We’ve got to get to the horses. You can’t make a sound, understood?”

She nodded.
You’re silly, Kate. He can’t see you nod!
  “I…I understand,” she stammered.

Kyle released her arms, and took hold of her hand. Slowly, he led her through the darkness. She stumbled over a rock, and sucked in a deep breath when his arm reached around her waist to keep her from falling. He pulled her up against his side, and she winced again. Quickly, she stuck the knuckle of a finger in her mouth and bit down on it to keep from crying out in pain. She might have some broken ribs after all.

Kyle hesitated. What was going through his mind? If he knew she was injured, he would probably leave her behind. Clenching her jaw, she straightened herself, while her body yearned to lean into his strength for support. Even in the chill of night, perspiration beaded her forehead, and she felt a trickle of sweat run down between her breasts.

“How much further to the horses?” she whispered.

“I want you to stay right here, Katelyn,” he answered quietly after a prolonged silence. Her heart sank. He was leaving her behind.

“I . . . I’m sorry. Please, don’t leave me --” His hand clamped over her mouth.

“I’m not leaving you behind,” he hissed in her ear. “I just want you to wait here. I’ll be right back with my horse. Now stop making so damn much noise, or we’re both gonna end up dead. Is that clear?”

She nodded vigorously. He removed his hand from her mouth, and let go of her waist. “Don’t move,” he said softly. Then he was gone, and she stood alone in the absolute darkness. Kate wrapped her arms around her waist, the tears rolling uncontrollably down her face. The pain in her sides became almost unbearable.

It’s either die here or die in Helena, Kate
. At least here in the wilderness, her death might come quicker.

*******

Kyle grinned and shook his head. How did Laughing Badger ever attain the status of war chief? The man was stupid and careless. His mare stood tethered with another group of horses, fully tacked. His saddle and supplies hadn’t been touched. Even his rifle was in its scabbard. He quietly untied the reins from the tether, gave the horse a reassuring pat on the neck, and led her through the darkness.

The woman had him concerned. He was convinced she was hiding an injury. It puzzled him that she wouldn’t be honest about it. The thought that Laughing Badger might have harmed her physically sent his blood boiling. Once they put some miles behind them, he could assess her more thoroughly, and find out where she came from. There had to be someone searching for her.

Kyle found her standing in the exact spot where he’d left her. Her soft, quiet sobs drew him to her.

“I’m back, Katelyn,” he whispered, and reached out a hand to her. She grabbed onto his arm and practically threw herself against his chest. Her entire body shook. For a moment, he stood in stunned silence, then his arms wrapped around her, and he held her close. The feel of her softness, and the faint floral scent in her hair fogged his brain. His common sense finally won over. They had to get moving, or risk discovery. He reluctantly pushed her a few inches away from him.

“Can you mount up? We need to get out of here,” he whispered in her ear, feeling the nod of her head. He turned her around to face his horse. Silently, he held a stirrup steady for her, and, after several failed attempts, she managed to place her left foot in it. His hands spanned her waist as she tried to pull herself into the saddle. She gasped in pain when he lifted her up. Kyle steeled his heart and mind, ignoring her obvious discomfort, and swung up behind her. Her breaths came in quick, shallow gasps, and he gently drew her up against his chest, urging his mare forward.

“Come daylight, you’re going to tell me where you’re injured, and what that son of a b . . . what that Crow did to you,” he growled in her ear. Her body stiffened, and she sat up straighter. Kyle eased her back against him. “Just lean into me, and try to relax,” he whispered in her ear. “There’s no need for you to be hurting.”

It took a few moments for her to comply, but then she melted like butter against his chest, her head falling back to his collarbone.

Kyle gave his mare her head, letting her pick her way through the darkness. The horse would instinctively choose a path in the direction of home. Once it was light again, he could get his bearings and figure out the quickest way to the Madison Valley from there. Every breath he inhaled was filled with the flowery fragrance of the girl in his arms. Her steady breathing and wobbly head told him she’d fallen asleep. His arms tightened around her to keep her balanced.

Come morning, he intended to find out exactly who she was and how she had ended up in this remote mountainous part of Montana Territory. Her clothing bespoke of wealth. No one wore silk dresses in the wilderness. That was something he’d only seen among the elite members of society in Helena or Virginia City.

What to do with her weighed on his mind. For the moment, he intended to return home. He needed to find out more about her to determine his course of action after that.

Katelyn . . . the name just happened to slip out of his mouth. Her given name seemed way too stiff and formal. He rolled his shoulder forward to adjust her head, which swayed precariously down his arm. She’d have a sore neck in a few hours along with whatever else hurt. She sighed softly, and tucked her head under his chin. Kyle suddenly gained a new appreciation for a mother grizzly defending her young. His protective instincts went soaring out of control.