“I can’t keep you here against your will.

“Someone’s bound to get hurt. That’s not my intention at all.”

Her insides fluttered. “Will you play any more tricks?”

“No.” He said it with such honesty and compassion, but he looked so defeated standing there.

Her heart would not go out to him, she warned herself. “Can’t you see—” she pleaded, stepping closer. “Can’t you see? How am I supposed to know who to believe?”

Luke stepped closer. He lifted her hand, his unexpected touch sending a ripple cascading up her spine, and placed her palm over his heart. Then he flattened his own hand over hers. She felt the heat of his flesh beneath the cloth, the pounding of his blood.

“You’re not supposed to know it, you’re supposed to feel it.”

She withdrew her hand, feeling as if it had been singed in a flame….

Praise for KATE BRIDGES’S previous title

The Doctor’s Homecoming

“Dual romances, disarming characters and a lush landscape make first-time author Bridges’s late 19th-century romance a delightful read.”

—Publishers Weekly

“The great Montana setting and high Western action combine for a top-notch romantic ending.”

—Romantic Times

“Kate Bridges has penned an entertaining, heartwarming story that will live in your heart long after you turn the last page.”

—Romance Reviews Today

Luke’s Runaway Bride
Kate Bridges

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dedicated to my dear friends Donna L. and Heather H.—thank you both for your encouragement, and your wonderful sense of humor.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter One

Denver, September 1873

Tall, rugged and dangerous. Who was he?

Jenny Eriksen spotted the stranger from across the deserted street. Her pulse strummed with awareness.

Silhouetted in moonlight, the stranger walked his bay past the golden cottonwoods near the livery stable, then past the newly painted hitching posts of the corner café. A rough block of square shoulders and long legs, the man moved with muscled control. With a gun belt slung low around his hips, his Stetson tugged over his brow, he was the type of man in this wild mining town Jenny tried to avoid. Especially since the robbery in Daniel’s office that afternoon.

For a moment, Jenny stopped breathing.

She had just stepped out of the crowded dance hall onto the boardwalk with her housekeeper. At first, she’d been relieved to escape the charity ball to run her delicate errand, but now Jenny wasn’t so sure. In the cool night breeze, she studied the wavy black hair and somber, clean-shaven face of the stranger.

Lord, he was handsome. But what set him apart from other men was his air of isolation, of danger. His long, deliberate stride and his easy, graceful movements commanded obedience. Definitely a man who’d never interest her. She preferred…a milder man, who thought with his head and not his hands. A man like her wonderful Daniel, her fiancé.

The wind danced across her bare shoulders and stirred her blue velvet sleeves. Familiar piano music floating through the air eased her tension, reminding her she was safe. She yanked her peacock-feather shawl tight against her gown.

“Six months in Denver,” she said, gulping perfume-scented air, “and I’m still not used to seeing strangers wearing guns.”

Beside her, Olivia’s satin skirts rustled. Dressed in pleated burgundy, the pretty dark woman peered up at Jenny. “At least in Boston, the men conceal them.”

Stepping from the boardwalk onto the rutted path, Jenny watched the stranger disappear down an alley. She brushed him from her thoughts. Glancing up at the quarter moon, she relaxed and smiled. Tonight at the ball, Daniel had formally announced their engagement, and she wanted to waltz with excitement.

In four short months, she’d be Mrs. Daniel Kincaid. She was such a lucky woman. Wasn’t it Daniel himself who’d organized this fine charity event? Such a kind, loving man. Her father was right in his arrangement, after all.

Two months wasn’t a long time from first meeting to engagement, she admitted, but she shouldn’t worry. She and Daniel had a solid base of companionship, and love and passion would grow from there. Marriage and children were what she’d always wanted.

Olivia adjusted her fringed wrap. “Did you tell Daniel where we’re headed?”

“I tried, but he was talking to the banker and his wife, getting a big donation. I couldn’t very well approach them with my bodice gaping open.” With good humor, Jenny glanced down at the space where her button used to be, and pulled her shawl tighter. Her beaded bag dangled at her wrist.

“But we should tell someone—”

“If one more person sees my dress like this, I’ll die of shame. Daniel’s house is just around the corner. His butler couldn’t leave the ball because he was serving drinks at the bar, but he told me where he keeps the sewing basket. He also gave me the key.”

“Well…the fresh air’s nice. My eyes are waterin’ from the cigar smoke, and my nose…” Olivia, more of a sister than a housekeeper, chattered on in her usual lively manner, in a voice that had soothed Jenny since they were children.

Jenny yanked at the tight curls pinned on top of her head, wishing she’d arranged her hair in her usual beaver tail. She agreed with the elderly Windsor sisters next door—her hair was as straight and thin as a plank—but why had she allowed them to curl and powder it? Powder hadn’t been used for decades!

Well, because it was the first time in two weeks, since the loss of their beloved cat, that Jenny had seen the two sisters smile. She hadn’t the heart to refuse their offer.

Thank you kindly, but no. She had to practice saying those words more often.

They turned the corner, passing massive stone-and-cedar houses. Petticoats swished around their ankles. Tomorrow, Jenny would rise early. Her crate of bridal fabrics had finally arrived from the East, and she was itching to cut her wedding corset. In Boston, her late grandmother had taught her how to sew the finest undergarments—“lingerie,” the French called it—and it still gave Jenny such pleasure.

Too bad she wasn’t able to convince Daniel a lingerie store would be appropriate for a woman of her stature, even though it had been her dream since she was fourteen. When would he decide on the type of store he did consider appropriate?

Her father and brothers hadn’t needed anyone’s permission to plan their dreams when they’d decided as a family to move West. Why did she? Even Denver bankers had refused her loan requests, because she was a woman on her own. She still knew that newspaper clipping by heart—“Store owners needed in Denver. Plenty of opportunities for men and women”—and she ached for the challenge.

A train rumbled through the foothills, scattering her thoughts. As Olivia chattered on, Jenny glanced up through the trees.

She spotted him again and lightning bolted through her.

The same tall stranger. Wide shoulders and a massive frame, leaning on Daniel’s porch. What did he want?

He wasn’t looking at them. instead he pressed a bulky hand to his shoulder, and his suede jacket fell open. His white shirt was soaked with a spreading stain of blood.

Her heart jumped madly. Instinctively, she stepped toward him. He needed help.

But if she had a lick of sense, she’d turn around and run. As her footsteps slowed, his head came up. She heard a jingle of spurs. He gazed at her, level and bold, as if he had every right to be here. Her muscles quaked.

Apparently, Olivia hadn’t noticed him. “…And so I answered, ‘Oui, monsieur,’ and he was sure surprised to hear me speaking French. Couldn’t imagine, he said, my folks being runaway slaves. My, it’s cool—”

“Olivia,” Jenny whispered, “look at the porch.”

Her friend came to a stop and grimaced in dismay. “Sweet stars above! Let’s get out of here.”

She tugged at Jenny’s sleeve, jiggling the feathers, but Jenny stayed put. If the man had wanted to attack them, he could have done it already. “He’s injured. He needs help.”

“Are you out of your mind? He looks dangerous! And you don’t always have to be the one—”

“He must know Daniel. He must be a friend. Why else would he be on the porch?”

“Maybe he’s the robber!”

Jenny swallowed, trying to control her fear, wishing Daniel had given her more details about the robbery instead of worrying he’d frighten her. “The sheriff’s looking for the culprit, and the guilty man wouldn’t be so foolish to stand right on Daniel’s porch.”

“We ought to run in the other direction. Bad things always come in threes, and this is the third thing today.”

Jenny’s gloved fingers tightened around her shawl. “That’s an old wives’ tale.”

“You know you believe it. Ever since your shoelace broke this morning, you’ve had a run of bad luck. First the robbery, then your button. Poppin’ off right in front of the entire church committee, I might add, exposin’ more flesh than any of ’em has seen in the last decade. Now this.” She motioned to the stranger. “Let’s not get attacked by a lunatic!”

Jenny drew a clipped breath. He was much bigger than they were. “You’re right, let’s go back and get the men.”

The stranger slumped forward, apparently in pain.

Compassion surged through her. “Are you…are you all right?” she called out.

Olivia gasped. “Jenny, don’t talk to him.”

He stood up, a tall dark figure in the shadows, swaying on his feet. “I’ll be fine. I was…hoping for someone else. Looks like he’s not coming.”

Her voice wavered. “You need a doctor. Who are you?”

He staggered toward the side of the house, to the iron rings that studded the twisted cottonwood where he’d tied his horse. “I’ll be heading out,” he said, not bothering to give his name.

“Are you waiting for Daniel Kincaid?”

The stranger spun in her direction. He peered at her in potent silence. “Who’s asking?”

Her stomach rose and fell. “I’m—I’m his fiancée. I could tell you where he is, but you really should see a doctor. Most of them are at the charity ball. You can see the lights through the trees.” She pointed. “We’ll show you the way.”

“We will not,” Olivia squeaked.

Jenny scowled. “He might be bleeding to death.”

“His fiancée,” the man repeated, stumbling to his horse. In the streaky moonlight, Jenny caught the look of disgust that rippled across his face.

A tremble ran down her spine. Who in blazes was this man? Why was he snarling at the fact that Daniel had a fiancée? Daniel—her beloved, her protector. And hadn’t she just decided, five minutes ago, she should learn to say no? Someone else could help this man. She inched back and signaled Olivia it was time to run.

She was about to spin away when the stranger placed his foot in the stirrup. Instead of swinging up, he staggered back and fell into the dirt. A moan escaped his lips.

Jenny’s breath caught. The man was truly injured.

As still as a boulder, he didn’t rise.

She couldn’t abandon a wounded man. She flung the gate open and dashed to his side.

Her friend shrieked. “We’ll get beaten!”

“Hush, Olivia, he’s unconscious. Come here and help me.”

Jenny knelt at his side. His hat had fallen off. A breeze billowed between them, lifting black hair off the handsome curves of his face. Light glimmered from the lamppost and caught his chin. A threadlike scar ran from his left ear to beneath his jaw, as if someone had once tried to slit his throat. Jenny gasped. Controlling her shaking fingers, she lifted his shirt. The bandage around his ribs oozed fresh blood. How much pain was he in? Could she help him without endangering herself or Olivia? Living alone as he did, Daniel only required the services of one hired man, and he was at the ball. The house was empty.

Olivia’s cloth boots crunched in the dirt beside her.

Jenny clawed her hands underneath his shoulders, groaning under the weight. “Help me get him into the house.”

“What if he tries to have his way with us?”

“He’s in no condition to attack us.”

Olivia picked up a chunky rock. “Should I hit him over the head to keep him that way?”

“No. Grab his legs and help me drag him in.”

In a back recess of his mind, Luke McLintock registered the faint scent of perfume. He stirred.

Regaining consciousness, but still dazed from pain, Luke slowly opened his heavy lids. Where was he? His blurry vision focused. A woman was leaning over him. One cameo button—the top one—was missing from her gown, and for a blissful, groggy moment, Luke was sure he’d died and entered the pearly gates of male heaven.

Intrigued, he stared at the glorious vision of creamy cleavage. The stickpin she’d apparently tried to fix it with still pierced one side of the gaping blue velvet, and beneath it all, her lavender lace corset—a color he’d never seen before in a corset—strained to contain her curves. He held his breath, anticipating, hoping, her cups would soon runneth over.

Then pain hammered through his right side, reminding him he wasn’t in heaven. He was slumped in a leather chair, stripped from the waist up, while she wrapped gauze around his ribs. Cool air surged across his hair-matted chest. Where was he? Lying still, he eyed the room from beneath her dancing blue velvet sleeve.

Two kerosene lamps lit the well-to-do office. Cherry-wood paneling, rawhide sofa and chairs, silver-framed photographs—it contained all the trinkets an up-and-coming land developer could afford.

Daniel’s house. But since the bastard wasn’t home, there was no reason for Luke to stay. Besides, he had a man waiting for him at the rail station. But he’d return to haul Daniel back to Cheyenne. After what had happened between them today, Luke sure as hell would. He shifted on the plush leather. Dammit, his hands were tied behind his back!

He yanked hard on the ropes and cursed. The blonde jumped away from his heaving body, clutching a pair of silver scissors. Strands of long golden hair loosened from her upswept arrangement and tumbled over naked satin shoulders.

Luke peered up into startling blue eyes. In her mid-twenties, she had a heart-shaped face and determination in her gaze. The single dimple in her cheek fluttered, betraying her cool demeanor. He’d seen prettier women before, but something about the intelligent look in her eye held his gaze. Then her friend stepped forward, waving a gun in his face. His own Colt, for cripes sake.

“Put that thing down,” he snarled.

But the woman braced herself. By the smooth way she clasped the ivory grip and cocked the hammer with her thumb, he knew she’d held a gun before. Uneasiness snaked along his spine.

The blonde drew her shoulders back and ran a hand along her sleeve. “Don’t get mad, we’re trying to help you.”

He shook his head to clear the fog and braced his long legs in front of him. “Then why’d you tie me up?”

“We didn’t, not until…” she gulped and lowered her eyes to his chest “…not until we took your shirt off and saw those scars. We got scared.”

The knife wounds were old, from saloon brawls in his younger days, and three or four from overnight stays in jail with not-so-pleasant company. He hardly noticed them anymore.

With trembling lips, the quick dark woman stepped forward. She looked a bit older than the blonde. “You like to fight, mister?”

“Used to.”

“Not anymore?”

“No.”

The blonde leaned in past her friend and inspected him, causing him to squirm. “Then how’d you get your latest injury?”

Daniel shot me. Luke swallowed as he stared at the flushed, upturned face. What would she say to that? His gaze dropped from her eyes to her creamy throat to the top of her scooped neckline. Heat pounded through his muscles. With a stab of disappointment, he noticed her stickpin was again in place, concealing her curves. Gazing back up at her breathless expression, he recalled she was Daniel’s fiancée.

The fact that she belonged to him made Luke’s teeth rattle. And telling her the truth about this injury might make matters worse. “Scraped myself on wire fencing.” Well, the flesh wound could be mistaken for a scrape.

“You a drover?”

“I help out on a ranch.”

“Where?”

“North of here.”

Her eyes widened. “If—if we let you go, how do we know we can trust you?”

His head started to cloud. “Look, my name’s Luke. If you’d really like to help me, you’ll untie me.” He yanked at the ropes, but they dug deeper. The sting in his side flared.

“I wouldn’t pull at the ropes anymore,” said the older one matter-of-factly, adjusting her bonnet. “It’ll just start tearin’ into your skin. Jenny’s granddad was a sailor, direct from Sweden, then Boston. He taught her how to tie over twenty different kinds of knots. What’s this one called again, Jenny?”

“The constrictor knot.” A flash of amusement danced across Jenny’s face. She bit it back, or had he imagined it? “The harder you pull, the more constricted you’ll get.”

Wonderful. One was good with a gun and the other good with knots. The two of them made a dangerous pair, and any man who thought otherwise was a fool. He assessed her boldly, and to his delight, she got flustered. With a huff, she smoothed the tendrils from her face and stepped beside her friend in front of the ballooning drapes.

So Daniel had picked a girl from Boston.

Well, lah-dee-dah.

It did explain the way she spoke. She fidgeted with her hands. They weren’t the usual smooth hands of a privileged woman. One bulky engagement ring. A two-inch scratch on one palm, and closely bitten nails. Hands used to doing things.

Would she be as shocked as he’d been to discover her beloved Daniel had a five-year-old son? One he’d ignored since birth? And the only damn reason Luke was here tonight was to haul Daniel back to acknowledge his son, Adam. With the boy’s mother now gone, Adam’s only relative was his father.

Arguing with Daniel in his office this afternoon hadn’t worked, but Luke had to solve the problem soon. What the hell was he supposed to do with a five-year-old kid? Keep him in Luke’s own room above the saloon? Ridiculous.

A flash of inspiration hit him. Maybe this woman could help. When she married Daniel, then maybe she and Daniel could raise the boy together. Wouldn’t that be a nice, tidy solution?

“Tell us what you’re doing on Daniel’s doorstep. How…how well do you know him?” Jenny’s clear blue eyes, as deep as the Rio Grande, met his. His palms got clammy.

A yearning to escape this place and ride hell-bent for Cheyenne pulsed through him. “I know him well. Daniel and I grew up together. His family took me in when my father died. We used to be best friends.”

Jenny’s mouth sprang open in alarm. She stepped back and took a good, hard look at him. “Best friends?” Her slender neck infused with color, then her cheeks. She clutched a hand to her throat. “Oh Lord, what have we done? Are you one of the McLintock boys?” She gulped. “I mean, men?”

He nodded. “He told you about us?”

“How down-and-out you were, and how he helped your whole family get back on your feet.”

Luke felt his neck flush with shame. Daniel probably made himself sound like a hero. He hadn’t helped all of them. Luke’s brothers were shipped off to another neighbor. But because Luke was only six, the youngest, he’d stayed with his ma. Scrubbing and cleaning and picking up after all the Kincaids. Wasn’t that why Daniel had nicknamed him “workin’ class boy”? Luke’s jaw stiffened at the memory.

“I’m sorry,” Jenny said, glancing down at her hands, “I didn’t mean to make you sound…down and desperate.”

He shrugged, pretending he didn’t care, and glanced at her friend. At least she was lowering the gun.

Jenny stumbled behind him and worked at the ropes. “I’m Jenny Eriksen, and this here’s Olivia Gibson, my dear friend and housekeeper. Sorry we had to resort to these tactics, but we’re alone and this town’s full of men who…”

The scent of her skin and faint perfume roused him. White powder floated onto his black denim pants. Powder?

“Sorry,” she said, “it’s my hair.” She nervously wiped the powder off his muscled thigh. With her warm touch, he felt an awakening right down to his boots. Blushing, she slid behind him again. Her hot fingers played along his cool wrists.

The ropes slackened as she continued talking. “No wonder you came to Daniel’s door. Who else would help you with your unfortunate injury but your best friend?”

Hah! His best friend was the one who’d shot him. An accident, yes, as Luke had struggled to grab the derringer from Daniel, but the recollection made his blood pound. Daniel had ordered him out of the office, shrieking at him to shut his mouth about the kid. After the bullet exploded, Luke’s fury could barely be contained. He’d raged out into the street, determined to wash his hands of Daniel forever. They hadn’t spoken for years, and why not keep it that way?

But once Luke had gotten back to the rail station, calmed down and bandaged his ribs, he’d realized he couldn’t walk away. Dammit, he couldn’t. If he did, what would happen to Adam?

Luke’s last promise to Adam’s mother, Maria, was that he’d do the proper thing for the boy. A man’s word was everything.

“There we go,” said Jenny. The knots released and Luke surged to his feet, the quick movement causing her to draw a sharp breath. He brushed against Jenny’s bare shoulder with his own naked one and tried to ignore the heat that trembled between them. Light-headed, he staggered back. He hadn’t lost that much blood, but due to the day’s chaotic events, he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. He rubbed his sore wrist, then held out a hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

She reached out and their hot palms met. His stomach shuddered with the contact. She was Daniel’s, Luke reminded himself. His jaw tensed. He cleared his throat, forced himself to drop her hand, and looked away.

He watched Olivia slide his gun back into its holster. First chance he got, he’d snatch it back. For some reason, a rock lay on the desktop, and she stared at it in a peculiar way.

“I suppose,” said Olivia, swinging around, “if you’re Daniel’s—” She lowered her lashes. “I mean if you’re Mr. Daniel’s friend, I should do my duty and put together a tray of refreshments. Looks like you could use a bite to eat.” The housekeeper eyed him like a cat eyeing a spider, and he twisted under the scrutiny. “Wait here, s’il vous plaît.”

“Much obliged.” When she disappeared behind the ornately carved door, he turned to Jenny. “You two speak French?”

The mountain of curls on her head jiggled. Jenny’s smile was slightly crooked, but somehow balanced her lopsided brow and single dimple, and held his attention more than it ought to. Altogether her face made a captivating composition.

“Olivia’s teaching me a few words. She lost her folks when she was a baby, and just discovered they came from New Orleans.” Walking to the desk, Jenny replaced the scissors. “Olivia’s become enamored with everything from Louisiana. The language, Creole cooking…”

He splayed a palm over his bandaged ribs and Jenny trailed off into a sudden, uncomfortable silence. She lowered her gaze to his chest, and he saw her swallow. He couldn’t help but lower his eyes to her bountiful assets. Her pin had come undone again, exposing creamy rounds. His heart thudded and he wondered if his wound was making him feverish, or the woman.

She flushed and snatched her dress closed. Her misty blue eyes flared. A gentleman would have looked away, her gaze seemed to accuse. Well, he sure as hell was no gentleman. But he did look away, scouring the room for his clothes while she adjusted hers.

His boots sank into the plush braided rug. He stepped to a leather wing chair and retrieved his bloodstained shirt. Pain jabbed his right side. He eyed the whiskey on the polished desk. “Mind if I take a drink?”

“Help yourself.”

It slid down his throat like fire. He took another, until the pain retreated and his thoughts spun.

How could he get Daniel to follow him to Cheyenne? Even if he didn’t want the boy, or stuck to his unlikely claim that Adam wasn’t his, Daniel should at least do the honorable thing and sign release papers so someone else could adopt the child. The last thing Maria Ramirez had done before diphtheria took hold of her was go to the town hall and register the boy’s legal father as Daniel. A month ago, after her death, the judge had told Luke nothing could be done for Adam until those release papers were signed or refuted by Daniel. If he’d only agree to see the boy…

Luke thrust an arm into his sleeve. Now suppose Jenny went to see the kid first, without Daniel…. Luke shook his head. No. Impossible. This was a delicate situation, and the last thing Luke wanted was to upset her. He needed her, the boy needed her, calm and rational and happily married to Daniel.

Happily married. Luke adjusted his collar. So Daniel was finally tying the knot. Well, good luck to him. Luke had never been tempted. Not with what he’d seen in his own family.

As he buttoned a cuff, Jenny leaned her supple body against the desk and tucked herself in her feather wrap. Peacock feathers and lavender corsets. What other surprises did she have under there? He tore his gaze away and smoothed his sleeves. “How’s Daniel doing these days?”

“Very well. He’s sponsoring the Widows and Orphans Charity Ball tonight,” she said with pride, “raising money.”

Luke gritted his teeth. Daniel should be looking after his own son. He hadn’t even bothered to attend Maria’s funeral when Luke sent the telegram. A second telegram went unanswered, too.

But Jenny was innocent, Luke told himself, and he’d try to be kind. “When’s the wedding?”

“January.”

“The dead of winter?”

She stumbled for words. “Spring or summer would have been nice, when the blossoms are out, but…January’s fine, too.” She crossed her arms defensively. “It’s Daniel’s slowest time of year, selling property.”

“Ah, I see….” Hell, Luke didn’t blame her for falling for Daniel. Six years older than him, Daniel had been his only friend in that difficult year when his father had died. Luke had grown up respecting Daniel, admiring his easy wit and mathematical skills, his ability to work hard and do his share of the farming chores, his popularity with girls. Later, Luke admired Daniel for getting himself educated in the railroad business. And hadn’t Daniel even lent Luke money once, so Luke could buy his ma a penny vase, the only store-bought present she’d ever received in her hardworking, miserable life?

A voice nagged inside his brain. But wasn’t Daniel also the one who’d taunted Luke with the shame of how his father had died? How his father was hanged?

Luke ran a hand through his unruly hair, and the sound of Jenny’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Where do you live?”

“Wyoming Territory,” he grumbled.

“Oh, Wyoming’s pretty.”

He tucked his shirt into his denim pants. “You been there?”

“Once, last month with my father. He’s setting up the new junction outside of Cheyenne.”

“Your father works for the railroad?”

She nodded and smiled. “Vice president of operations. He’s working tonight. One of the trains derailed south of the Springs, and he’s working to get it hitched back up. He’ll be sorry he missed you.”

Luke didn’t care to meet her father or anyone else.

“That’s how Father and Daniel met,” Jenny continued in her innocent tone. “I mean, when Father was buying land for the railroad. He took out a loan with Daniel.”

Luke searched the room for his jacket and warned himself to keep quiet about Daniel’s business. But now that he knew where Daniel was tonight, that’s where he’d head. Straight to the ball. Hell, why not settle things as planned?

Luke still had the extra rail ticket in his pocket that he’d bought for Daniel tonight. Daniel could meet Adam, make his decision. He could even catch the next day’s train home, with or without the boy. There were only two trains a week between Denver and Cheyenne, and Luke had carefully thought out each possibility before he’d left.

“If you’ve just arrived in town, have you heard?” she asked. “There was a robbery in Daniel’s office this afternoon.”

Luke’s gaze snapped to hers. “A robbery?” An uneasy feeling trembled through his gut. “What time was that?”

“Four o’clock.”

What? He took a shaky step back. “What do you mean?”

“At four o’clock, a man robbed Daniel.”

The hair at the back of Luke’s neck stood on end. What was going on? He’d been there at four—an hour past closing, with no sign of a robber. Surely Daniel wouldn’t… “What did the man take?”

Warm lamplight danced across her solemn expression. “Ten thousand dollars.”

Ten thousand dollars? A lifetime of money.

Luke stared at her and gulped. He hadn’t taken a cent. Was Daniel trying to set him up for a fall? Dammit! Was Daniel trying to blackmail him to keep quiet about the boy?

“Daniel said no one was harmed. He got a good look at the man, though, and gave an accurate description to the sheriff.”

Luke staggered back, the news hitting him like a blow behind the knees. The sheriff was involved? Daniel planned on framing him? As hard as they’d physically fought in the past, Daniel had never pulled a stunt like this before. What kind of man had he become? Was he good enough to be a father to Adam? Was he even good enough to be a husband to this innocent Jenny, with her powdered hair and stick pin?

Luke swallowed past the rock in his throat. And where the hell did that put him? He’d heard about Denver’s hanging judge. In this town, it’d be Daniel’s mighty word against his. If Luke were caught, what would happen? Would he be hanged just like his father? He felt the blood drain from his head. Anything but that. He grabbed his jacket and his breathing came in gasps. “Did he tell you anything about the man?”

Her eyes narrowed on him. “No, he said he didn’t want to frighten me.” Her gaze skimmed down to his chest at the same time his hand shot up to conceal the bloodstain.

She stared at his shirt, then straight at him. The sheen in her eyes changed and he saw realization dawn. Redness crept up her neck as she stumbled backward. “You’re the one—”

“It’s not what you think. I didn’t steal any money—”

She stared at him as if he’d crawled out of a sewer. Rage churned his veins. Inwardly, he roared. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t go to the ball for Daniel; he’d be shot or arrested. But he also couldn’t forget about the boy! Dammit! If this was Daniel’s way to shut him up, it damn well wouldn’t work.

A crazy thought fired through his mind and tangled with the whiskey and the pain.

Luke held her gaze, her wild eyes. Why not? Maybe she needed protecting from Daniel herself, and he’d be doing her a favor. And if Daniel was in love with her, he’d do anything to save her. Wouldn’t he? Would he tell the truth about Adam then? Would he sign the papers? Would he explain to the sheriff that he’d been mistaken about the robbery?

No, maybe Luke was imagining the worst. Surely Daniel wouldn’t have…

Could Luke risk it? Hanging from the gallows like his father…

His heart drummed. Thirty-six hours. That’s all he’d need her for. He’d borrow her for thirty-six hours. He’d take the most valuable thing Daniel had and force the son of a bitch into a chase. Luke would release her after Daniel caught tomorrow’s train to Cheyenne and settled their affairs.

Thirty-six hours.

She stumbled backward as he stared at her with deadening calm. By the stricken look on her face, she knew she was in desperate trouble. She lunged for the gun on the desk, but she was no match for his years of fighting experience. He reached it first. Breathless, she stepped back and faced him as he leveled his weapon on her.

He sucked in a cool, shaky breath. “You’re coming with me.”

Chapter Two

“What do you mean, I’m going with you?” Jenny panted. Prickles of terror raced up her spine. Who the hell was this man and what did he intend to do with her? He swayed above her, breathing hard, his damp shirt plastered to the black hair on his powerful chest, a six-shooter pointed straight at her. What chance did she have?

Beneath her hot velvet gown, sweat beaded between her breasts. She’d never let him take her without a fight. Inch by inch, she leaned back against the desk and secretly stretched her fingertips toward the whiskey decanter. If she could reach it, she’d fling it in his face. Better yet, in his wound.

His cool gray eyes glinted, as cold as gunmetal in a snowstorm. His expression was a mask of granite. “I’m taking you to Wyoming.”

The muscles in her face sank. “Why?”

His pale lips thinned. “Because it’s the only way Daniel’s going to listen to what I have to say.”

She doubted he was any friend of Daniel’s. At heart, he was just a criminal who’d stolen ten thousand dollars. When Daniel got ahold of him, he’d see to it the man paid for his crime. “Where in Wyoming are you headed?”

“Daniel will know where.”

Her jaw stiffened. “I’m not going with you.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

She stretched her arm to the point of pain until her fingers grazed cool glass. She swallowed, gripped the bottleneck hard and swung it. A river of gold liquid spewed onto his chest. Bull’s-eye.

Luke sprang back and yelped, clawing at his shirt. She winced, but before he could recover, she stretched for the rock on the other side of the desk and flung it, too. He glanced up in the nick of time and, cursing her, reared out of its path before the rock could whack him on the chest. It thudded on his boot.

His mouth twisted. “Dammit, woman!”

She dashed toward the door, but a firm hand gripped the back of her dress. Strong fingers dug into her bare shoulder. He yanked her closer and she gasped when she met his blazing eyes. A swath of wavy hair fell across his forehead. His temples glistened with sweat. All she smelled was whiskey. Dear God, what would he do to her?

His face was flushed a deep ruby, but he kept his grip steady on the gun. With each tick-tock of Daniel’s silver clock on the desk, her stomach quivered.

Then, with an unexpected heave, Luke tossed her away, unharmed. Dabbing at his shirt with a towel, he growled. So maybe he wouldn’t hurt her. Her mind reeled, searching for another escape.

The faint sound of footsteps came from the hallway. Their startled gazes collided. Olivia.

Luke dove at Jenny and cupped a hand to her mouth. She shrank back, dodged his callused palm and bit down on a finger. Hard.

“Ahhh!” He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to his chest, crushing her breasts against him.

For one breathless moment they were close enough to kiss.

The shocking thought sent a current racing down her thighs. He wouldn’t dare!

Emotions battled across his face. He looked like a man trapped by something he wanted to explain.

He inclined his dark head and she gasped. Would he kiss her? No…once again he slid a hot, firm hand over her lips, stifling her protest.

She stilled under the pressure. His hand carried the scent of fresh air and grass. He splayed his other hand against her bare shoulder blades and heat seeped into her skin.

He was a barbarian. A criminal.

Wasn’t he?

With her soft curves flattened against his firm chest, she felt his heart drumming in unison with her own. Daniel’s touch never affected her like this. Daniel’s arms felt secure and comfortable. Luke’s touch was anything but. How dare he!

She somehow found the courage to pound on his wounded ribs. He staggered at the light blow and she tumbled back.

His breath tore out of him in a painful gasp.

The doorknob creaked.

“Keep still,” he whispered, raising his gun, “and you won’t get hurt.”

She stiffened. What sort of monster was he?

Olivia hummed as she stepped through the doorway, tray in hand, laden with buns, scones and jerky. Her billowing gown rustled. “Here we are, with plenty to eat….” She glanced up and her voice trailed off. Jenny met her terrified gaze with her own.

The tray toppled to the floor. Buns rolled in all directions. “I knew it was the third thing, I knew it!” Olivia bellowed, wailing as if she were being scalped. She grabbed her skirts and ran.

Luke cocked the hammer of his gun with a loud click. Olivia stopped cold. When she slowly turned around, the women stared numbly at each other. Jenny frowned fiercely, desperately wishing her friend, at least, might escape. Her breathing was harsh and rapid.

“Keep quiet,” he said, “or I’ll…shoot the both of you.”

Trembling, Jenny stepped closer to Olivia. She shot him a hostile glare. “I’ll never help a stranger again.”

Luke pushed a hand through his hair and glared at her in exasperation. “Yes, you will. You can’t help it.” He struggled to catch his breath. “Woman, you tire me out.”

She stood her ground.

Finally, he tilted his rugged face toward Olivia. “Do you have a husband, ma’am?”

Scowling, Olivia shrugged a shoulder. “No.”

Jenny stepped forward. “What’s that got to do—”

He raised his palm in the air and silenced her. “Just answer the question. Who do you live with?”

The worry lines around Olivia’s eyes sharpened. “Jenny and her father.”

Slowly, his gaze traveled to Jenny, and another qualm of fear shuddered through her. “Well, that’s good,” he said. “No one’s going to miss you then. It’ll seem natural Jenny took you with her on her trip.”

Olivia slumped against her. A cold shiver whispered over Jenny. “You intend on taking us both?”

He nodded. “You can each be leverage for the other.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, leverage?”

“You’ll see soon enough. If you do as I ask, without fighting back, then you’ll return to Denver with no harm done. If you fight me, it’ll take longer, but you’ll still lose, and you’ll get bruised along the way.”

He pointed his gun toward the heavy drapes. “Now, Olivia—ma’am—pack up the food you just brought in. We’ll put it in my saddlebag. Jenny, you find us some notepaper. We need to leave a message.”

With skirts swishing, Olivia did as she was told. As she crouched beside the desk, reaching for the fallen jerky, she peeped up at the stranger.

Jenny watched her friend scamper to do his bidding, and humiliation seeped into her. She scooped her shawl off the floor and stepped in front of Olivia. “If it’s Daniel you’re after, why don’t you take me and let Olivia go?”

Luke focused his intense gaze on Jenny. “You’d trade your life for your friend’s?”

She shuddered. “You plan on killing me?”

“No. I didn’t mean it like that.” His forehead creased in furrows, as if he were disgusted with the thought, and in an inexplicable way, Jenny believed him. She’d attacked him with whiskey, thrown a rock at him, even bitten him, but he hadn’t hit her back. She knew many men would.

She flung her shawl over her shoulders, fidgeting with the colorful feathers. Maybe he planned on getting even later, on the road. Her throat tightened. She took an abrupt step forward, smoothing the velvet at her sides. “Leave Olivia out of this. Please,” she added, staring up at his stubborn face, shivering at the memory of his touch. This was what Daniel got in return for his help all those years ago? Daniel’s family had helped this man get back on his feet, and in gratitude, he threatened Daniel’s fiancée?

Luke inclined his windburned face. “She must mean an awful lot to you.”

Her hopes rose as she stared at his stubborn features. Perhaps he had a heart, one she could appeal to. “Olivia’s been with me since I was a baby. We grew up together and I consider her a sister. She’s the only family I have in Denver, besides Father.” Her brothers were joining them in the spring, but if the four of them were here now, they’d pound the living daylights out of him. Rightly so. He deserved a wicked beating.

Luke’s eyes flickered. He looked her up and down, and she felt herself flush. “I hope Daniel appreciates your loyalty.”

She blinked. What did he have against Daniel?

“Keep packing,” Luke snarled to Olivia. With maddening arrogance, he turned to Jenny. “I appreciate how you feel toward your friend here, but I can’t take the chance.”

“What chance?”

“The chance that she’ll tell everyone in town I took you at gunpoint. Daniel’s more likely to follow us alone, without the law, if I keep this quiet for him.”

She glared at him. “The whole town will know, anyway. It’ll be Daniel himself who’ll tell them.”

“Oh, no, he won’t.”

Jenny squirmed. “Of course he will. He’ll get the sheriff and they’ll get a posse together. And,” she added with a hot twinge of delight, “they’ll string you up from the nearest tree.”

His gaze was calm and cool, but a twitch of amusement pulled at his mouth. “I know you’d be in the front row to watch. But believe me, Daniel won’t tell a soul.”

She swayed back and gripped the desk behind her, more uncertain than ever. “Then…then my father will.”

“No,” he said, pulling his vest off the chair and sliding his muscled arms into it, “your father will go along with whatever twisted explanation Daniel gives him of your disappearance. I don’t rightly care, as long as Daniel comes to get you.” He moaned with obvious pain, and Lord forgive her, she prayed his pain would double. Then maybe they could escape.

But he seemed so sure of what he said, and this confidence, this audacity, bewildered her. “Why?”

He swung the gun toward her. “You ask too many questions. Now pull out a paper and write Daniel a note.”

She stomped behind the desk. Pulling the top drawer open, she rifled through it. “I suppose you have your story all made up. What lies do you want me to write?”

“Write the truth.”

Her gaze swung to his in surprise. She watched him calmly toss his jacket over his broad shoulders. Why was he doing this?

Money, of course, she told herself with repulsion. He wanted money for their return. That’s why he was kidnapping them. That’s what he’d taken at Daniel’s office today. He didn’t have a money bag with him, she noticed with a frown, but he’d had plenty of time to stash one.

Plopping into the chair behind the desk, Jenny dipped the quill into the inkwell and began writing, mortified at her thoughts…about their heated embrace earlier, her curiosity about being kissed. She wasn’t to blame. He’d attacked her. She thrust out her chin.

“My dearest Daniel,

A man who claims to be your friend, Luke McLintock, is holding a gun to my head—the same man who tried to rob you this afternoon. He says he’s taking me to Wyoming, along with Olivia, says you’ll know where to find us. Please find us quickly, Daniel, and if something should happen…”

She paused, then wrote “know how much I love you.”

Guilt slithered up her spine. It was the first time either one of them had mentioned the word love. And she’d done it only at gunpoint. It didn’t matter, she rationalized; these were tragic circumstances.

She blamed this cowardly man for turning her mind upside down. Well, he wouldn’t get away with it. Daniel, together with her father, would send every available man and bounty hunter after them.

“All right.” He yanked her off the chair with a muscled grip. “Let’s go.”

She’d try to stall him. Daniel and the others might already be searching. “What about my dress?”

“What about it?” His grip felt like iron. He lowered his gaze to the velvet gown, reminding her how bare her shoulders were, how much the bodice gaped without its button.

“We can’t travel in these clothes. They’re uncomfortable. We’d like to change.”

His gaze traveled to Olivia. Her poor friend stood trembling in her burgundy satin. He eyed Jenny with suspicion. “Do you have extra clothes here?”

“Well, no. But my house is only five streets over.”

He snorted. “Nice try. Forget it.”

“At least let me get needle and thread for my button. Daniel’s butler keeps a sewing basket in the kitchen.”

“I haven’t known you for very long,” he said, humor tugging at his lips, “but I do know one thing.” He raised a black brow and his charcoal eyes flashed, evoking another flash of fury. “If you do locate a needle, it’ll only wind up stuck in my eye.” His gaze skimmed her gaping dress. “I’m not letting you look for a needle. Your missing button doesn’t bother me.”

She felt her face blaze. She yanked her shawl around her.

His eyes grew wide with amusement. “As a matter of fact,” he added, “hand over the pin that’s in it.”

She gasped at the outrageous request. “No gentleman would ask such a thing of a lady.”

“I don’t rightly care.” He raised his gun. “Now hand it over. Nicely.”

Men out West certainly weren’t the same as the men in Boston! In Boston they had manners, they said please and thank you and they never looked directly at your…your bosoms! Jenny felt her nostrils flare as she groped for the pin.

“Drop it,” he commanded.

It pinged off the floorboards.

As they walked out the door, the two women in front, Luke grabbed a hunk of bread from Olivia’s sack. He ripped at it with his teeth, like a hungry tiger chewing on flesh. The man was truly an animal.

God, he couldn’t be a friend of Daniel’s.

A quarter moon lit the deserted street and houses. Orange leaves swirled at their feet. Huddling together, the women walked ahead of Luke and his horse. Where were they going? Jenny squeezed Olivia’s trembling arm.

Trains hissed in the railway yard behind the far trees. They were headed in that direction. Good. Jenny breathed faster, gulping down the scents of damp earth and oil. They d be more visible on a train than by horse. Other passengers might come to their aid.

Their captor directed them around some tall pines. A number of railway cars sat in the station. As a result of the derailment, the trains headed south had no place to go. But her father had told her the trains headed north to Wyoming or east to Omaha were still running on time. This brute had obviously timed his departure well, for the Wyoming train was whistling, as if waiting for them.

In the distance, above the rumble of the steam engine and the clatter of baggage being loaded, she heard the conductor call, “Thirty minutes to departure.”

They approached the train from the shadows. Glancing down the line of cars toward the platform, past the trunks and crates of vegetables, Jenny spotted a crowd. Capes and bonnets, walking canes and cowboy hats. Her muscles tightened with hope. Did she recognize any faces? They weren’t in anyone’s line of vision yet, but another fifty yards and she’d yell out to them.

She dodged a puddle. The train hissed and she jumped back in alarm.

A gun dug into Jenny’s back and she was forced to keep walking. So help her, the first chance she got, she’d hold a gun to his head and let him know how it felt.

They passed an open boxcar stamped Union Pacific, and a short, blond man stepped out from the shadows. “Boss?”

Oh, no, thought Jenny, Luke knew him. The lithe stranger, who had a wide, flat nose and muttonchop sideburns, guided Luke’s horse up a makeshift ramp. He glanced at them. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t ask, Tom, I’ll explain later. I didn’t get to Daniel, but I’ve got his woman and her friend. Forget about the tickets—we’ll have to stay with the horses and women. We’ll split them up. You take this one,” he said, tossing a shocked Olivia into the man’s arms. “The blonde comes with me.”

Panic welled in Jenny’s throat. She staggered back and screamed, as loudly as she could, at precisely the same time as the steam engine blew its whistle.

No one heard her except Luke. Her cries were muffled as he threw her into the car behind his horse. Her gown twisted up around her thighs, and her feathered shawl dropped to the tracks. Luke dove in on top of her, squashing her between the solid wooden floor and his hard muscled body. Her chest felt like it would burst.

Never in all her life had she been so mistreated, had she wished a fellow human being harm.

Before she had time to blink, he rolled off her and slid the rickety door closed behind them. Seized with dread, she watched his lean profile melt into a swirl of blackness.

Good Lord, what would he do next?

In the cool, quiet hours near midnight, Luke stared into the darkness. Now he had to face up to what he’d done.

With a mean-awful pounding in his ribs, he dragged himself to his feet. The railcar bounced and swayed beneath him. The cramp in his calf squeezed tighter and he shook it out. He’d been lying so long in one position, pinning Jenny down so she couldn’t bolt and spook the horses, that his muscles needed release.

Sighing, he sought out her curvy shape on the straw. She wore the jacket he’d given her for the cool night, and she was breathing steady in a deep sleep. Fighting him at first, she’d finally simmered when he threatened to harm her friend. Empty threats, but they’d worked.

Luke’s bay whinnied. Another horse, belonging to another passenger, stirred beside him. Tugging the scarred door open, Luke gazed up at purple sky and twinkling stars. A branch scraped along the train’s side and he ducked his leg to avoid it. Judging by the silhouette of mountains, they were close to the territory border, had maybe even crossed it. By early morning, they’d reach Cheyenne. The next train from Denver was tomorrow, and he expected Daniel to be on it.

Thank God, Maria had told Luke the truth before she’d died. She’d lived in the boardinghouse, accepting the measly dollars Daniel sent her monthly—just enough to keep her mouth shut about the paternity of the boy, to keep her hovering above poverty.

For five years, as Maria worked the lunch hours, she’d kept the boy by her side. Luke had shooed Adam out of the way at every opportunity, never spending more than five minutes with him. Hadn’t he even told Maria to try to keep Adam hidden? That having the boy around wasn’t good for business? Luke burned with shame. After Maria’s death, he’d taken a hard look at himself and realized he’d treated his horse better than he had the kid.

Sure, in the end, when she’d suffered that horrible sore throat from diphtheria, Luke had stepped in, taking Adam to his friends’ ranch to protect the boy from getting sick. But that hadn’t worked so well, either, had it? She’d died so soon, the boy hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye. Luke knew what that felt like. A hole that never got filled.

Hadn’t he missed the opportunity to say goodbye to his old man? He’d heard the applause from the hanging, though. He’d been sitting on the bench behind the courthouse beside his brothers, all spiffed up, their mother in her worn-out Sunday dress, begging the judge to release their pa.

Looking back on it now, he knew the hanging was inevitable. Cattle rustling, a shoot-out with the sheriff, one dead deputy… But as a sparkly eyed six-year-old kid, with two optimistic brothers and a frantically hopeful mother, they thought the judge would show leniency.

None of them had said goodbye.

Luke sighed, bone-tired of it all. Daniel’s family had taken him in, saying they could use the extra hand on such a big ranch, with only one child of their own to help. For the first few years, he and Daniel were the best of friends. But as soon as Daniel’s friends—especially the young women—started paying Luke attention, and Luke’s abilities with horses and guns outstripped Daniel’s, a rivalry grew.

Not on Luke’s part. But during Luke’s troubled teen years, marked by petty crimes that followed his mother’s death and his brothers abandoning Cheyenne and Luke as a result—well, Daniel had gloated. The two hadn’t spoken in years, not since Daniel moved to Denver.

What happened to the good person Daniel used to be? Did he deserve another chance? Would marriage to Jenny straighten him out?

She seemed like a good woman. She had guts and stamina. And out here, where men outnumbered women eight to one, the strength of men depended on the strength of their women. Once Jenny married Daniel, she’d be stepmother to Adam. She’d make a good one, too. She’d been kind enough to help Luke, hadn’t she?

And how had he repaid her kindness? He stirred uneasily.

Forcing himself to look at the moving ground outside instead of the captivating woman inside, Luke ran a hand over his bandaged chest and moaned. The whiskey stains had dried. He’d been through enough fights to know his wound was light and it would heal. He was used to changing bandages all by himself, and he’d change these, too.

Her whisper pierced the quiet. “What’s your real name?”

He started at the silky sound of her voice and spun around. She sat up, clutching his jacket. Her hair matted along one side of her head, full of loose straw. Moonlight shadowed the hollows of her straight nose and curved mouth. He tried not to notice how pretty she was. She was Daniel’s. Luke would sooner die than cross that line of honor. He’d never chase another man’s woman. He was not his father.

Clearing his throat, he leaned a shoulder against the rough plank wall. “I told you. I’m Luke McLintock. And I didn’t steal any money. If I had, do you think I would have been standing on Daniel’s porch? And do you see any bags of money?”

She frowned, glanced at the saddlebags, then eyed him with suspicion. “Tell me truthfully how you know him.”

“You know already. We grew up together.”

“One friend wouldn’t do this to another.”

He winced, then shuffled his feet. “I’ve been saying the same thing to myself for eight hours.”

She sat up taller. Her slim waist flared to rounded hips. “Prove it to me. Tell me something only you would know.” A soft tremble rippled across her mouth. She was frightened of him, and that tweaked his guilt.

“Like what?” he asked gently.

“What day of the week was he born?”

“That’s easy. He says he was born to work with money. He tells everyone he was born on a Friday, the busiest banking day of the week. In mid-January.”

Her eyes probed his. “When were you born?”

“Six years later, during harvest. The last week of September.”

She lifted her chin. “Oh…that’s next week.” Her features tightened with suspicion. “What are his folks’ names?”

“They were Lance and Ellen. They passed away years ago.”

Scowling, she hugged her knees, pulling her gown around her. “Well, anyone might know that. Tell me something about yourself. How did your…your father die?”

“Daniel didn’t tell you?”

She drew back. “Should he have?”

“No, I’m just surprised.” After all, he thought to himself, Daniel loved to make himself sound superior. “My mother died of working too hard,” he said, gritting his teeth, trying not to remember how she’d had a stroke while on her knees scrubbing floors. “And my father…” he closed his eyes for a moment and leaned back against the wall for support “…my father was hanged.”

Silence.

“That can’t be true,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

He pressed his lips together and shrugged a shoulder, too ashamed to meet her eyes.

More silence.

“For what crime?”

“Pick one.”

Straw rustled. He turned to look at her and she inched backward defensively, until she was pressing up against the slatted boards. As if she had to protect herself from him.

But didn’t she? He’d taken her from her family, from all she loved.

Her lips parted. She continued to stare, measuring him with a pensive shimmer in her eyes. Her smooth skin glowed in the dim light and her messy hair tangled with the straw. He shouldn’t really stare, but she had such a wild beauty. There was a softness and a strength to her that fascinated him.

“How’d you and Daniel meet?” he blurted.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure she’d answer. “At a Union Pacific social,” she finally said. “The Independence Day fireworks. Father arranged the introductions.”

Luke found the news strangely uplifting. “You mean your father arranged the wedding?”

In a fluster, she ran her fingers through her hair. “Well, not exactly. Sort of…” She gave a little cough. “It was my decision.”

“I see.” Lots of fathers arranged marriages. Why did this news please Luke?

Sudden anger flashed in her eyes. “You better watch out when my father gets ahold of you.”

“Daniel has a way of convincing people. I’m sure he can handle your father.”

Her voice rose. “Not this time. My father will know something’s wrong.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve never missed writing a speech for him before.”

He pressed his back against the cold wall, facing her directly. “You write your father’s speeches?”

She nodded and plucked at the straw near her boots.

“You’re educated then. Went to college in Boston?”

“Well, not precisely. My brothers did.”

“But not you?”

She furrowed her brow. “I read every one of their books.”

“Why didn’t you just go to school?”

“Because women don’t go to college, that’s why,” she answered.

He paused. “But I hear they do.”

Glancing down at her fingers, she twisted her engagement ring. Her voice dropped to nearly a whisper. “It’s what my father always tells me.”

“Oh.” Luke was touched by her tender admission. “Yet he gets you to write his speeches.”

“But no one knows I do.” She met his eyes with such honesty, it upset his balance. “Well, except you.”

“Your father sounds like a hypocrite.”

Jenny’s eyes sparked. “Do you always say exactly what’s on your mind?”

“Mostly.”

“That’s why your chest is all scarred up.”

He grinned with sudden humor. “That’s a pretty fair deduction.”

Jenny lowered her head and swallowed. “Can’t you please let us go? Where is Olivia?”

“She’s safe in the next car.” He spun away so she wouldn’t see his eyes softening. For a moment, he stared up at the stars, feeling the cool wind on his face, the wheels of the train thundering beneath his boots. Mustering strength, he turned to face her. “As soon as Daniel arrives, and I expect it’ll be tomorrow, I’ll release you.”

She searched his face. “You promise you will?”

He prickled under her scrutiny. Suddenly the boxcar seemed very small and her nearness overwhelming. “Yeah.”

“Both Olivia and me?”

He nodded in reply, respecting her for her devotion to her friend. She slid a piece of straw from her hair, above her ear. The absent movement made her jacket slide open, revealing the creamy flesh of her shoulders. His pulse dipped.

“Why can’t you be more like your friend? Daniel turned out so good and you turned out so bad.”

Every muscle in his body tightened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think I do.” She coolly appraised him. “You’re down on your luck. Instead of working hard to get yourself out of the hole you’re in, you’re stealing money. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Her comment stung. He braced his feet against the movement of the train. “People aren’t always what they appear to be. This isn’t about money.”

Her face became set. “Then what’s it about?”

“Doing what you know is right. Truth and honor.”

She shook her head. Her hair was a mass of tangles. “What do you know about those? No wonder Daniel never mentioned you much. I wouldn’t be proud, either, if I had a friend like—” She stopped abruptly and averted her eyes.

An angry reply burned his lips. He didn’t care what in blazes she thought of him. In about thirty-four hours, it would be settled. And then Daniel alone would have to deal with his new Boston bride.

But when she gazed back at him with confusion in her misty eyes, Luke floundered. She stirred him. He didn’t want to be stirred. He didn’t want to be conflicted.

“If this is about the truth,” she said in a voice that reached him somewhere deep, “explain it to me. Tell me the truth, Luke.”

The trusting way she said his name weakened his resolve. Should he tell her about Adam? She was engaged to be Daniel’s wife, and didn’t she have every right to know about the boy? She seemed strong enough to handle it.

But he had to be careful how he explained it, so she wouldn’t get too upset. His own neck was on the line, and because of that, and for the sake of Adam’s future, she had to remain committed and engaged to Daniel. Daniel sure as hell wouldn’t drop any charges or sign any papers if Luke jeopardized the engagement.

Luke shoved back from the wall and straightened to his full height. “All right,” he decided. “When we get to Cheyenne, I’d like you to meet someone, and then you’ll understand.”

Chapter Three

Dawn. Despite the cool, blue morning mist, sunlight twinkled through the wall boards of the boxcar, and Jenny’s eyes blinked open. She shivered in the crisp air, remembering where she was.

It wasn’t a dream. Her heart squeezed in anguish. She was here, a captured woman with a man she didn’t know. Would today be the day she escaped?

Where was Olivia and how was she this morning? Jenny closed her eyes for a moment, then determination surged through her. She wouldn’t let him win. She’d keep alert to her surroundings and lunge at the first opportunity to flee. Blazes, maybe it’d help if she were friendly.

Still wearing his sheepskin jacket buttoned to the top, she pushed herself from the straw. Was the train slowing down? It was rocking differently. While she stretched her arms to shake off her sleep, Luke sprang to his feet in the opposite corner. She started. With his cowboy boots pounding on the floor planks, his spurs jangling, he banged his fists on the wall to signal his man on the other side. A thud echoed in response.

Luke returned to his magnificent blood bay. Sunlight glistened off its red flanks. “Morning,” Luke said as he saddled his mount. Was he talking to her or the stallion? She didn’t answer.

Trying to ignore his masculine presence, she ran her fingers through her twisted hair, yanking on the knots. She got it into some degree of order, then flattened it on the top. Removing several of the hairpins, she did a makeshift job of tying it into a beaver tail. It would have to do.

From beneath her lashes, she couldn’t resist stealing another glance at Luke. Still in his black denim pants, he’d changed his shirt and donned a knee-length leather coat. He looked almost respectable.

Watching him work, she noticed how skillful he was with animals. His movements emphasized his forceful shoulders, slim hips and muscular thighs. Any woman would think he and his mount were striking, standing side by side. She shouldn’t feel guilty for thinking it herself, about the power and muscle in both man and beast.

The man was a beast, she decided. He should be shackled and chained. He would be once they caught him, she realized with satisfaction.

While he adjusted his saddlebags, she watched his long fingers at work. If what he told her last night about his father were true… What kind of family did he come from? No wonder he was all scarred up. It must come from breaking the law, just like his father.

Heat rushed to her cheeks. Lord, when she thought about last night in Daniel’s office, when Luke had looked like he was about to kiss her—

She pushed away her disturbing thoughts. She pitied him—that’s what she felt. Only pity. “Are we getting off here?”

“Yeah.” Dark stubble shadowed his jaw. He needed a shave. If he’d lend her a straight blade, she’d give him a shave he’d never forget.

“Is this the Cheyenne station?”

“No, it’s the stop before.”

She sat taller, her voice sharp. “I thought you said we’re going to Cheyenne.”

“We are. But the last thing I need is two women hollering murder in the middle of the station.” He worked quickly to buckle straps. “We’ll go the rest of the distance by horse.”

Ride a horse? By herself? She didn’t know how. She’d never tried. Her throat constricted. “Am I supposed to ride the other horse?”

Luke glanced at the sorrel. “That one’s not mine. I’m not a horse thief.”

She jumped to her feet and brushed straw off her dress. “How honorable,” she said with a shake of her head. “You steal women but not horses.”

His lips quirked with humor as he finished with the lines.

“Do you find everything I say amusing?” she asked.

“Just about.”

“Well, then, I’m not talking to you anymore.”

“Suit yourself.” A hint of a smile touched the corner of his mouth. He looked charming, and she squirmed with irritation at the thought.

Unmoved by her cold stare, he slid open the bulky door. His firm, square hand was strong and callused, like the rest of him, and no doubt he was accustomed to working hard. How could such a hardworking man be so down on his luck? Why didn’t he try harder?

He’d said he was taking her to meet someone. Who? A relative? A…former girl of Daniel’s? Was Luke trying to make trouble between her and Daniel?

Jenny knew Daniel was a popular man. Women had been vying for his attention at the Independence Day celebrations from the minute Jenny’d met him. He was a terrific dancer, dancing the smoothest waltz with her. Hadn’t she told him so? Hadn’t he smiled that gracious smile and insisted on having every dance with her, despite the other women?

No matter who Luke was taking her to see, she wouldn’t let it upset her. Luke was the criminal, not Daniel.

She stepped to the open door beside Luke’s tall, lean form and gazed out. Morning sunshine slanted into the boxcar, drenching her. The heat felt good. Clouds that looked like cotton candy swirled in a blue sky. Miles of golden grass, as high as her waist, rippled to the horizon. She peered ahead of the train. Tall aspens, their leaves quaking in the wind, lined a trickling creek. As the train chugged along, a herd of pronghorn antelope drinking at the water’s edge scampered into the pines.

She took a deep, heady breath of pure mountain air. It was so beautiful. More beautiful than she ever could have imagined, back in Boston. The breathless grace of the Wyoming Territory filled her with a sense of awe.

Then the train screeched around a bend and she stumbled, bracing herself quickly. The sheepskin lining of Luke’s jacket cushioned her arms.

Grabbing the edge of the door, Luke hung out the boxcar beside her and hollered something to his man. The wind was whistling and she couldn’t hear what they said. When Luke came back, he swung up on his horse. He had to duck his head so it wouldn’t hit the ceiling.

He motioned for her to mount behind him. Good Lord, he didn’t really expect her to jump that high, did he?

The sound of the horse snorting and the sight of it pawing the floor made her heart pound with fear. She stepped back. Luke, wild and unshaven, looking every bit as much a beast as his sleek horse, stretched out his hand to her. She cleared her throat, about to declare that she didn’t ride, when he suddenly clicked his tongue in frustration, swooped down with a muscled arm and scooped her up.

In a swirl of petticoats, she landed behind him in the hard saddle. It was one hell of a tight fit. What was she supposed to hang on to? In a panic, suddenly dizzy, she gripped his coat pocket.

Before she had time to adjust herself, the horse leaped off the boxcar. They plunged into the blazing sunrise. The wind snatched her hair. Her stomach rose and fell. “Ahhh…!”

The horse hit the ground and galloped hard. They’d made it! A thrill danced up her spine. But there was no way she was putting her arms around Luke. Instead, she tried to hold the edge of his coat, then the saddle. Anything but him. She swayed and dipped, clawing to maintain her balance.

“Sit still,” he hollered.

Still? How could she keep still when she’d never sat this close to a man, in such an intimate position? The back of his thighs felt hard and sleek along the front of hers, and she couldn’t escape the salty scent of his skin. A current of excitement raced through her with every bump, every jostle of his muscles against hers. She shivered and tried to push away.

She couldn’t budge. And she had to keep her legs and buttocks clenched to keep from slipping off.

They rode into a muddy clearing, crossed a line of cedars and splashed through a riverbed. As they headed down toward a grass-covered valley, Luke slowed the horse to a trot. Jenny wiped her sweaty palms on her velvet skirts and tried to loosen the stiffness in her arms. Her chest started to feel hot inside the sheepskin coat.

Ten minutes passed, then an hour. Her breathing steadied. Her hands stopped trembling. The wind tugged at her loosened hair and she found herself enjoying the sensation.

The horse swayed, and for the tenth time, her cheek brushed Luke’s leather-covered shoulder. His body heat singed her cheek. His thighs rippled against hers once more, and she quivered. To take her mind off the man between her legs, she thought of Daniel.

Where was he? Did he miss her? How many men had he organized to chase after her? He’d be at the front of the pack, she envisioned, leading everyone. She couldn’t imagine him with a gun, though. Did he carry one? All she ever saw him carry was that silver pocket watch and a cigar. If he never carried a gun, then who had shot Luke in the office yesterday? The guard?

And she couldn’t imagine Daniel on horseback like Luke was now, roaring through the fields, leaping off the edge of a train, and just…well, just taking a woman he wanted. No, Daniel was a gentleman in every sense of the word, and Luke was…a hotheaded cowboy with no thought of tomorrow.

She tipped her face to the sun and let it caress her. It warmed her skin. In Boston, she never got to spend much time outdoors, or feel the wind or sun on her skin. If she were riding in Boston, she’d be forced to wear a bonnet.

Boston had stifled her—being stuck in the house at eighteen, when her grandmother had passed away. Father thought that’s where proper ladies belonged, but Jenny didn’t. What was wrong with getting an education?

After many fruitless arguments, Jenny had in the end cleaned and laundered and mended alongside Olivia, not because she had to but because of boredom. Soon, Jenny had started sneaking a peek at her brothers’ college books on commerce and accounting. Olivia read the ones about American history. As children, Jenny and Olivia had learned to read together, taught by Jenny’s grandmother.

Olivia. She hoped Olivia, who was no doubt galloping behind them, was also enjoying the fresh air, for it would give them the vigor to fight when the opportunity came.

Energized by the sun, Jenny looked up at the wide blue sky, thinking of all her reasons for coming West. Her father had his dreams of expanding the railroad, and her brothers had theirs of mining and working in pharmaceuticals. The men in her family weren’t interested in listening to her, but she would show them all she had a brain and could use it in business as well as they could. Maybe better. It was at times like these, she imagined, that daughters turned to their mothers for guidance. Jenny, at two, had lost her own mother to cholera.

Ah, well. It had happened a long time ago, and Jenny preferred to look at the future. She smiled in the warm wind, reminding herself that more women owned shops in Denver than they did in Boston. More women were allowed to charge out on their own. Although the two Denver bankers she’d secretly approached for a loan had laughed at her ideas for an undergarment shop, she’d have a store yet. What exactly, she wasn’t sure, but with her beloved’s help she’d do it.

All she had to do was get back to him. If it weren’t for this man, robbing her of the very freedom she cherished most…

Jenny reached out and patted the horse’s red coat. The animal’s hooves pounded beneath her in a steady rhythm. She glanced down at the waving grass. Their interlocked shadows, two riders atop a horse, sailed along the ground.

Why couldn’t she hear the hoofbeats of the other horse? Olivia should be close behind. Shifting in the saddle, letting go of Luke’s coat, Jenny craned her neck and glanced back.

She lost her balance. Panicked, she started to slide, and tried to jerk herself in the other direction.

Luke swore. She felt him grab her skirt and yank. “Hang on!”

With a loud rip, her dress tore. She slid off and hit the ground, rolling in the dirt. A rock smacked her temple. It stung. Her vision clouded. Sprawled on her back, she stayed put and tried to catch her breath.

“Whoa, boy, simmer down,” she heard Luke say in the distance. Then he was by her side. “Jenny! Are you hurt?”

She felt the pressure of his hand on her shoulder. She inhaled slowly and her eyesight cleared. He was looking down at her, his dark brows creased in concern. She hadn’t thought he was capable of any tenderness.

She groaned, trying to rise on an elbow. “I think I’m fine, but my head…”

He slid his hand along her back to support her. Much too close. The shadow of a beard made him look like a wild wolf. “You’ve got a little cut.”

He brushed her forehead with gentle fingertips, then his gaze came back to hers. His dark eyes were deep, warm pools and she felt herself submerging. “You don’t know how to ride,” he said.

It all seemed so ridiculous—the ride, her formal gown…. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

His eyes twinkled and he smiled at her. A kind, handsome smile. Her pulse skittered. She tried to fight it. “Are you laughing at me again?”

“No,” he said, ever so softly. “Why are you so stubborn? Why couldn’t you hold on to me, nice and proper?”

There was nothing nice or proper about their positions on the horse. Suddenly, she became aware of how close they were sitting, how firm his arm felt around her shoulders, how fresh and manly the scent of his skin. Underneath his coat, the collar of his crisp shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a thatch of silky black hair, leading down his chest to who knew where.

He seemed to come to his senses first and jerked away. “Stay here, I’ll get something for your cut.”

She tried to sit up, but her right upper arm rocked with pain. She rolled back to one elbow.

Luke returned with a cloth and dabbed at her forehead. “Why didn’t you tell me you can’t ride?”

“I didn’t have time.”

He pushed his hat back. The sweat-dampened hair at his temples glistened in the sunshine. “It’s my fault, I should have asked. I’m sorry.”

Finally, an apology for something. He kept dabbing. “You surprise me. A polished lady from the East, dressed in velvet, wearing imported perfume…yet you sure spit tacks. You don’t complain very much, do you? I mean, about sleeping in a pile of straw or at being thrown onto a horse when you don’t know how to ride.”

She broke their intimate gaze. The words seemed harmless, but the sincerity in his eyes… He was sitting so close she could feel the breeze whisper off his skin. How did a man like him know her perfume was imported?

How did she wind up this near to him? She squirmed away.

“Hey, come back here, it’s almost cleaned up.” He moved closer, poured water from his canteen onto the cloth and wiped her forehead. When he looked into her eyes again, her pulse rushed like a waterfall.

His gaze went lower, down to her quivering lips and then back up. A powerful awareness shot through her. He seemed different than he had last night. Gone was the hardened stranger and in his place was a compassionate man, rugged and appealing.

“Let me help you to your feet.”

“No, it’s all right…” She shouldn’t allow herself to be swayed. He was her captor and she was his prisoner.

It was too late to stop him. Attempting to pull her up, he grasped her upper arms, but squeezed the sore one by mistake. She yelped.

“You’re hurt.” He released her. His face creased with concern as his gaze skimmed over the jacket. “Where?”

“My right arm.”

“Let me check to see if it’s broken.”

“No, please—”

He was unbuttoning the sheepskin jacket before she could stop him, his warm hand grazing her shoulder, trailing down her bare arm. She tried to ignore his touch and the tingling sensations.

“It’s not broken, thank God,” he said. His charcoal-gray eyes, flecked with cinnamon-brown, glistened as he looked at her. A knot tightened in her belly.

His fingers slid from under the jacket, more of a caress than a withdrawal. His gaze slid down to her mouth.

She knew it was coming, but in her mind she whispered No.

She heard a shameless moan of surrender. Good grief, it was coming from her. She turned her face away so his lips couldn’t meet hers. His mouth grazed her earlobe instead, sending a shudder through her body.

She thought turning away would stop him, but he kept going, hungrily kissing her jaw, skimming his lips along her throat. She gasped. No man had ever kissed her neck before, and his warm lips were as soft as butterflies. Although untouched, her nipples ached, as if he were teasing them with feathers.

His lips tantalized her throat to the base of the hollow. In a rush of desire, she arched her neck. How would his demanding lips feel on hers?

No. This was bad. This should stop.

She tried to wrench away. He followed, not allowing a break. She gasped for air. “Please…”

How would Daniel react to seeing her here? Shame tore at her. “No. I said no—”

She ripped free, raised a palm and slapped him hard across the face. “I’m engaged to a man you call your friend.”

He blinked. She watched the red stain of her handprint rise on his cheek. Who the hell did he think he was?

Regret flitted across his face. He slid the jacket closed.

With a shaky sigh, he turned away. “You have my word this won’t happen again. Button up. I’ll help you back on the horse. We’ve got miles to go.”

There was no way in hell anyone was going to take advantage of Daniel Kincaid. Daniel bit off the tip of his fresh cigar and spat it into the dusty street. If he came within five feet of Luke McLintock, he guaranteed Luke wouldn’t rise from the dirt for days.

Dressed in a freshly pressed worsted wool suit, silk vest, cravat and overcoat, he rubbed at the kink in his neck. Blazes, he needed a drink. He smacked his dry lips together and lit his stogy. His temples pounded from lack of sleep.

What the hell was McLintock trying to prove?

For cryin’ out loud, it was just a kid they were fighting over. A Mexican. And how did anyone know for sure who the father was? Might be anyone. Hell, it might be Luke.

The only reason Daniel had paid that waitress, Maria, was because he’d been a sitting duck. It was her word against his, but she’d seemed content, and quieter, with two extra dollars in her pocket each month. He shouldn’t have given her that.

If McLintock told Jenny anything about the boy, Daniel would deny every word.

Was he expected to give up his life for this kid?

His mouth twisted. Hellfire! If he knew Luke at all, Luke’d have the kid off his hands quicker than lightning. Luke didn’t want the boy any more than he did.

Daniel gritted his teeth, chomping into the cigar. The bitter taste seeped across his tongue. Since when had Luke become so high and mighty? What had happened to the little squirt who used to follow Daniel around, mirroring his every step as if Daniel were a knight of the round table? Now Luke had proved he was no better than his lowly father.

Cripes, if the bullet had struck an inch lower, McLintock would have dropped dead…

A flash of sunlight blasted off the bank window into Daniel’s eyes. Squinting, he turned the corner.

Blazes. The gun had gone off by accident. Was that why McLintock was doing this? To get even for the bullet graze? So what! McLintock had tried to grab the derringer out of his hand. So Daniel had let him have it! He wished now he’d pulled the trigger deliberately, and hadn’t weakened at the last minute.

And yeah, he’d called the sheriff. McLintock needed to be thrown in jail. Anything to stop him from spreading a false rumor about the boy. Daniel’s shoulders stiffened. His fury yesterday was nothing compared to how he felt today.

He reached the office door and thrust a gold key into the lock.

“Mornin’, Mr. Kincaid, sir,” the night guard rumbled. A former boxer from New York City, Harley Cobbs scoured the street, on the lookout for anything unusual. Daniel had hired him three years ago, the minute he’d laid eyes on Harley’s face, which was as broad and gnarled as the trunk of a weathered pine. Daniel bet if you sliced his skin, you’d see the rings.

“No trouble last night, sir. The office was quiet.”

Daniel turned the knob and kicked the door. He already knew that. The trouble had already fled town, most likely by the quickest method available—the train. Reaching Cheyenne by horseback would take two to three days. “Tell the two other men I don’t need ’em anymore.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” No sense paying for extra security when it wasn’t necessary. Yesterday, he’d hired additional men to protect the office. He hadn’t thought of protecting Jenny, and knowing he’d been outwitted made him seethe. McLintock would pay.

Stalking into his private office, Daniel scanned his morning appointments. It was up to him to make the next move. What else could McLintock do but sit and wait for a response?

In the meantime, Daniel had to deal with Jenny’s father, Nyland Eriksen. Luckily the old geezer was out of town.

What would Nyland say if he knew about the kid? Nyland wouldn’t give his daughter so freely. Daniel’s hands trembled as he butted out his cigar. It’d taken him ten years to get here, on the verge of the best deal this side of the Rockies, a deal with the Union Pacific. A deal with Nyland Eriksen.

Daniel deserved it. He’d scouted and surveyed land for fifteen years, using his wits and know-how to predict where the next tracks would be laid. Over yonder in that flood-prone valley, or dynamiting through the hills? As soon as Daniel was married to Jenny, Nyland promised him a permanent deal. A ten-year contract as the official scout for the railroad. Damned if Luke McLintock was going to blow this deal.

Did he think he could compete with Daniel? Did he think they were in the same league? Why, McLintock would always be nothing but a workin’ class boy. Scrapin’ the manure off other people’s boots. Servin’ them penny beer, for cripes sake, when Daniel was making deals of twenty thousand dollars a crack.

And beautiful Jenny being terrorized by the bastard…why, she was nothing more than a little kitten who needed protecting. Like all women did. Her and her silly notions of opening a store. Daniel planned on keeping her so busy with a brood of her own, she wouldn’t have time to do much else. Thankfully, she could hold her own in business conversations with the mayor and the governor and anyone else Daniel entertained, and he was sure proud to show her off on his arm. Her lush body and quick mind were a delightful bonus, although being Nyland’s daughter would have been enough.

“Morning, Daniel,” cooed a feminine voice behind him.

He spun on his chair and peered up at Sally Bloomfield, one of his clerks. “Mornin’.”

She rubbed her ruby lips together and played with a strand of her brown curls. Well now, didn’t she look tempting? Her curves strained the fabric of her lace blouse, teasing him with a hint of rosy tips. Why was she wearing that blouse? She knew how much he liked it. He had an urge to lay her over the desk and take her, like he had on many occasions. But he was engaged now, and had every intention of living up to his new standards. Four weeks, and he hadn’t strayed. He deserved a medal.

His stare was bold. “I told you before, address me as Mr. Kincaid.”

Sally’s smile faded into a pucker.

He glanced through the office window. “Go get your papers in order. I’ve got a client to tend to.” Stiffly, he edged his tall, muscular frame around her and kept walking.

His business with the miner didn’t take long. The young man was leaving when the doorbell jingled. Daniel glanced up to see who it was.

Queasiness rolled down his spine. “Did you make it in all the way from the Springs this morning, Mrs. Walters?”

The gray-haired woman straightened her bonnet. “Yep, took me nearly two hours.”

“So the train derailment’s been fixed?”

“Yep.”

Oh, hellfire. That meant Nyland would be back in town, looking for his daughter. That changed everything. Daniel excused himself. “Harley, step into my office.”

They crossed through the sunshine beating through the bars of the front windows. Daniel shoved his finger beneath his sweaty collar. His cravat was tighter than a noose. He closed the office door. “I want you to take a trip.”

“Where to?” The ex-boxer curled his hand over the walnut grip of his gun.

“We’re going to Cheyenne. Get two tickets for this evening’s train.” Daniel sputtered with indignation as he explained the situation, sticking to his story about the robbery, and adding a kidnapping-for-ransom charge. “It’s a messy situation. Let’s keep it quiet, so Nyland Eriksen doesn’t find out.”

Something in Harley seemed to come alive. His tired eyes blazed with eagerness. “Are we bringin’ McLintock back?”

“No, just the two women.”

“What should I do to him?”

“Stay behind a few days.” Daniel crossed his arms, leaned against his desk and crossed one booted foot in front of the other. “Get him alone,” he said calmly. “Then I want you to break some bones. Make him feel it.”

Once again in the saddle behind Luke, Jenny tried to pull away. He’d removed his coat, and only the thin cloth of his shirt separated them. Why did he have to be the type of man a woman couldn’t ignore?

He yanked her closer. “You’ll fall off again. Hold tight.”

“I don’t want to.” But she let her arms stay where he placed them, around his muscled waist. She was still shaken from her fall, and the ground below seemed awfully far down.

Her palms were slipping with sweat. A line of perspiration ran down his spine. His back muscles, under the soft cloth where she held him, grew damp, and she swallowed. Her breathing lost its rhythm every time she touched him. What was wrong with her? She wriggled away.

Why had she let him kiss her throat? Why hadn’t she pulled away sooner? It was fear that made her heart pound, she told herself. She didn’t fear Daniel, and that’s why her heart never pounded like this when he kissed her.

Daniel took pains to make her feel comfortable. He never took her anywhere without the proper chaperon, and she wouldn’t be caught dead with him, alone like this.

Another hour passed, but her misery didn’t lessen. The sun’s heat blazed through the jacket. She had a permanent squint from the glare. There was nothing but sagebrush ahead. Two speckled birds chirped from a tree they passed and a jackrabbit darted out from a shrub and slipped into a pocket of dirt.

When would she see Olivia again? Jenny scanned the rolling hills, squinting through the shimmering light, hoping to see someone. A ranch or farmhouse. Anything.

Nothing but dried grass and tumbleweeds. “How much farther?”

“We’re close. Over this hill.” The stallion climbed the gentle slope. Jenny poked her head around Luke’s shoulder to look. Pines and aspens grew along one side of the valley. There must be a stream below. The vegetation was thicker and greener there.

She sighed. “And this is where Olivia and your man Tom are waiting?”

“Hold on now, I didn’t promise they’d meet us here.”

She sprang up. “What? Another trick? But you said—”

“I said they’d meet us in Cheyenne. And they will, in due time.”

Her mouth opened in protest, then closed. Maybe he was lying about ever bringing them together. Maybe she’d have to escape on her own and come back to rescue Olivia.

They crested the hill. The green valley revealed a ranch house and stable, and he was heading straight for them. Who did the ranch belong to? Cattle grazed the fenced slopes, forty or fifty head. She spotted two horses tethered by the hitching post. Would she dare to take one?

Would the opportunity arise?

Their mount slowed as they approached the well-kept homestead. A deep green pond shimmered beside them, the reeds around it thick and as tall as people. The reeds rustled and a muddy boy jumped out, surprising her.

Luke pulled back on the reins to stop the horse. The boy dashed to his side, holding a twisted stick. “You’re home, you’re home!”

Jenny reared back. Who was this child?

With shaggy black hair, he was no more than four or five. He stood barefooted, his skin bronzed the color of gold. His rumpled shirttails were laced with grime and his fingernails blackened with dirt. His smile, though, was a genuine flash of white. And, aimed straight for Luke.

Did Luke have a son? The shocking thought hit her full force.

“Adam,” Luke roared from the saddle, “I can’t believe how dirty one little boy can get.”

A ball of emotion sprang to her throat. The man who’d kidnapped her was a father? He would go to jail for what he’d done. Who’d look after the boy while he was in jail? What kind of a father would put his own boy at risk?

A selfish one. Just like his criminal father.

She sat there, stunned.

Suddenly overcome by the dizzying heat, she squirmed on the saddle. If Luke had a son, did he have a wife?

And what would his wife say to her?

Jenny stared at the empty grounds—at the two-seater swing on the porch, the string of bedsheets hanging on the laundry line, the pretty vase of flowers in the window. A wave of nausea welled inside her as she fought to control her swirling emotions. The man who’d kissed her earlier, who’d brushed his butterfly lips along her throat, was married?

Chapter Four

“How many other children do you have?” Jenny asked Luke as she slid off the saddle.

Surprised, he stepped back and glanced at Adam. She thought Adam was his? Well, Luke could see how. Similar black hair, the boy’s friendly greeting… Adam didn’t look like Daniel. At least, Luke didn’t see any resemblance. Adam looked like any little kid on any corner.

Luke met her penetrating eyes. “Adam’s not my boy,” he said softly. “I’m looking after him for a while. Or, should I say,” he corrected himself with a warm nod to Adam, “he’s looking after me?”

Adam gazed up at Luke with unabashed eagerness. Luke smiled, but shifted uneasily. Adam shouldn’t get too attached to him. Yes, Luke had watched him grow up in the saloon—one of the few stable influences in his life, apart from his mother. But Adam had to learn that soon he’d be gone from here. Either gone to his father and Jenny’s, or to another caring family for adoption.

Jenny inspected Luke. “Did you bring me here to meet your wife?”

She thought he was married? He stumbled back and nearly choked. Wasn’t that amusing?

Why was redness creeping up her jaw? Was she feeling a tad guilty? About what? The response he’d detected in her when a married man had kissed her? A response he knew she’d deny.

Nervously, she pulled her jacket over her gaping gown. The wind beat color into her cheeks and whipped loose hair around her face. Even all messed up, she was prettier than a sunrise. Her pretty blue eyes fired in his direction.

“Don’t worry,” he teased, “I’m not married.”

Flustered, she glanced away, trying to smooth her scattered blond strands away from her supple cheeks. “I’m not worried.”

His grin became laughter. Tension lifted from his muscles and he realized he was beginning to like having her around. She amused him, if nothing else.

A gust of wind kicked up dirt. Adam rubbed his eye with a fist and shoved the hair off his brows. He stepped closer to Jenny, his brown eyes twinkling. “When I saw you ride up, your dress was blowin’ in the wind and I thought you were my mama.”

Luke’s laughter gave way to sudden concern, and his heart constricted at the boy’s next words: “You think she’ll be comin’ back to visit me soon, Luke? You think if someone tells Mama I lost my other front tooth, she’ll want to come see me then?”

Luke’s throat tightened. He squatted in the dirt, at eye level with the five-year-old. How many times had he explained to the boy that his mama wasn’t coming back? “Oh, Adam.”

The horse snorted and Luke glanced up. Jenny was studying the two of them with a baffled expression.

“Adam’s mother passed away four weeks ago,” Luke murmured.

Her mouth opened in dismay.

“Remember, Adam?” Luke cupped the boy’s narrow shoulder with his large callused palm. “Remember, your mama’s in heaven?”

The boy shrugged. Pulling away from Luke, he clamped his mouth tight, glanced down at his stick and started tracing circles in the cracked earth.

Luke worried most when the boy got quiet like this. He wished he could erase Adam’s pain, but there didn’t seem to be much he could do. Suddenly remembering Jenny was watching them, he straightened to full height, towering over her.

Her face mellowed, all soft curves and dewy lips. “I’m sorry…. How difficult for Adam. Does he have a father?”

Luke’s gut clenched. “His father doesn’t live around here. I’m…I’m trying to contact him.”

He wasn’t about to discuss the problem in front of Adam. Luke was glad now he hadn’t mentioned Daniel’s name to the boy. Until Luke knew for certain what Daniel intended on doing, it was best not to raise the boy’s hopes. Maria hadn’t told Adam much about his father, either. She’d made him sound like an adventurer, a man who’d gone off to seek a fortune for his family. If things went the way Luke planned, the boy’s life would be settled soon.

And now that Jenny had met Adam, first chance Luke got with her alone, he’d tell her the truth.

She swallowed. “Why did you bring me here?”

“You need to meet some people.” He motioned to the house. “Daniel’s relatives.”

She stepped back in dismay. “Daniel’s relatives?” Her gaze shot to the house. “I didn’t know he had living family.” Flushed, she glanced back at Luke. “It doesn’t matter. What I’d like to do is leave.”

“After you meet them, I promise you will. They’re nice folks.” He held his breath and waited for her reply. It was up to her now, what direction he’d take from here.

She lifted her chin. “Tell me one good reason why I shouldn’t holler bloody murder right now.”

“Because you might be sorry later. You might embarrass yourself in front of Daniel’s relations.” He inclined his head. His voice was low. “Take a look at the boy. He won’t hurt you. You’re not in danger. And as of now, I’m giving you back your freedom.”

She frowned in confusion. “I’m free to go?”

He nodded. His decision came as a surprise to himself, but it seemed like the right thing to do to gain her trust.

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