Kidnapped By An Outlaw (Emerald Falls Book 1)

by Ivy McAdams

  Her lip twitched, and she leaned back in her chair to put a larger space between her and the snake of a gang leader. She wanted to yell at him, remind him that she most certainly had been in danger already. Her father had been killed, for Lord’s sake. Now she was surrounded by a whole camp of thieving, dirty outlaws who would do who knew what to her. She held the shudder down low in her spine, refusing to show him her fear.

  “Of course not. I’m sure she’ll send the money soon,” she said with the most stoic face she could muster.

  She knew she was lying through her teeth, but something told her her life might depend on that lie.

  Ace’s grin grew, and her fingers relaxed around the edge of her seat.

  “Perfect. We appreciate your cooperation, Miss Tanner,” he said as he got to his feet. “Have you met Miss McGowen? Lovely blonde in charge of the food out there? Take that paper on out to her, and she’ll help you write a letter to your Aunt Hilda. We’ll make sure all that gets taken care of right away.”

  Sadie stared at the paper in her hand as she stood to follow him out of the tent. She was going to write her own ransom note. For some dirty train robber. She couldn’t believe the reality she’d landed herself in.

  Ace’s men stepped out of the way as he departed the tent. Sadie followed, shivering as the crisp air enveloped her. The sun had gone down quickly, replacing the chilly breeze with encroaching winter cold.

  “You take care of that,” Ace said, waving a hand toward the center campfire. “Then my boys here will get you set up for the night. Let me know if you need anything, Miss Tanner.” He made a production of sweeping his arm out in front of him in a bow with a grin she couldn’t quite read. “Enjoy your stay at the Van den Berg camp.”

  Her teeth gnawed into her inner cheek, biting back a retort. Enjoy her stay? She was being held prisoner! Her fist clenched at her side as she watched the outlaw stride away.

  Then someone stepped up behind her and touched her elbow. She jumped, jerking away from the cold fingers on her skin.

  “Welcome to Hotel de Van den Berg,” Tom sniggered. “I’m sure the Tanner family will be delighted to pay us fine gentlemen for keeping you safe. We are heroes, after all.”

  The fringe of his jacket smelled of fish and vinegar. She grimaced and turned her head away.

  "You know, we ain't got much room for hoity-toity ladies around here," he spat. She could almost feel the heat radiating off of him and was afraid to look back. "You best find a way to get comfortable tonight, because there ain't no down pillows and feet warmers in any of these tents."

  Tom brushed past her and stomped off. She listened for his boots to get a few yards away before she glanced after him. He walked past the couple that’d watched her go in, the white hat tipping as the man spoke. She couldn’t hear what he said, but Tom whipped a hand in the air angrily. The pair looked at her, and she withdrew, her cheeks burning.

  “His bark is worse than his bite.”

  The deep voice behind her made her breath catch. She’d forgotten about Clay.

  He stepped up on her opposite side, hands deep in his pockets and hat low over his eyes.

  “I’m not so sure,” she said. “He killed two men today.”

  The blue eyes caught hers. “Your father was not his fault.”

  “He was in his care.”

  Clay’s jaw set. “It’s a dangerous world out here.”

  “It wasn’t a dangerous world on that train. We would have been perfectly safe if you’d left us alone.”

  His jaw rolled under, and his nostrils flared, but he had no reply. She tilted her chin defiantly, hands resting on her hips.

  “We best get to Clara to help with that letter,” he said after a moment. “It’s getting late.”

  Sadie tucked the sheet of paper against the soft folds of her dress and made her way over to the fire pit without another word, leaving Clay to trail behind.

  Clara was spooning chopped vegetables from a pot near the fire into a metal bowl. When she saw Sadie returning, her face lit up.

  “Sadie, back in one piece I see.” She grinned, though Sadie was unsure of the comment. Her face must have said so. “I’m just kiddin’. I told you Ace was a pretty nice guy. I’ve never seen him harm a woman.”

  Sadie bit back an angry reply and held out the blank paper. “I need to write a ransom note.”

  Clara stood and propped her hands on her hips. “Oh, dear. I’m sorry. But hey, that’s the least violent trick they pull.”

  “They killed my father.”

  Clara’s face turned green, and she glanced at Clay who was already holding out a hand in his own defense.

  “It was Croakers. An accident.”

  The blonde’s shoulders slumped, and her eyes welled with sympathy. “Oh, Sadie. I’m so sorry.”

  A lump caught in Sadie’s throat.

  “I’ll survive.”

  "I know you will," Clara said. "You look like a strong girl. In the meantime, why don't you let me take care of this for you?" She slipped the paper from Sadie's hand with a gentle smile. "Don't worry about this anymore. Get you some sleep."

  “Thank you.”

  Clay tapped a couple fingers to Sadie’s elbow. “This way. I’ll show you where you can rest.”

  She wanted to refuse and park herself next to the fire with Clara, where it was safe and warm. The breeze was growing frigid, whipping up her short sleeves and biting her feet. She shivered.

  Clay’s fingers tugged at her. Gentle but insistent. She couldn’t read his face, but it seemed silly to push her luck. She stepped out of the warm fire circle and followed him.

  “It’s too cold out here to be sleeping on the ground,” she murmured.

  “We don’t haul beds around the country. The ground will suffice.”

  “Ace has a bed. What of that?”

  Clay coughed out a laugh. “Ace has a wagon. He can carry around a bed if he wants.”

  “Why don’t you have a wagon?”

  His eyes cut over to her for a moment before focusing on their path again. “I don’t have enough things to warrant a wagon. I don’t need it.”

  “A bed seems kind of important, don’t you think?”

  He lifted a shoulder as he stepped up to the opening of a blue-cloth tent, covered on three sides. “It’s just a place to sleep.”

  Sadie stepped up next to him. A small stack of blankets sat on the deer hide stretched over the grass. “That’s where I’m sleeping? I’ll freeze.”

  Clay grabbed the blankets and spread one over the fur. “I’m going to start a fire out there,” he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder as he added another blanket to her pallet. A small charcoal circle filled with the remains of an old fire sat in the center of the surrounding three tents. “You have plenty of blankets. I’m sure we can find more if we need to. You’ll be just fine.”

  “But I’m not properly dressed to sleep out here. I don’t have sleeves like you. Nor boots high enough to keep my ankles warm. It’s too late in the autumn to be sleeping outdoors. Once the elk start moving―”

  “I’ll take care of it.” He shook his head with a scowl as he shoved the remaining blanket into her hands and stepped out of the tent. “You city girls are all the same. Lord forbid you get your hands dirty or spend a few hours away from your fireplaces and your crochet.”

  “Excuse me,” Sadie scoffed, throwing the blanket onto the pallet. “I am not―”

  “I said I’ll build the fire,” he said, voice loud and stern.

  She hesitated, remembering who she was dealing with.

  “You won’t die out here,” he continued in a quieter tone. “We haven’t.”

  Chapter 5

  The pop of a gunshot catapulted Sadie off the ground the next morning. She sat up like a spring, jerking her head left and right in alarm.

  The first thing she noticed was that she was outside, covered on three sides by a sheet of cloth. Sunlight twinkled through the thin fabric.

  The Van den Berg
campsite.

  The previous day’s events came crashing down on her, and she rubbed a hand over her sore, swollen eyes and chapped face. She’d spent the better part of the night quietly mourning the loss of her father. He’d been stripped away so quickly, she could still hardly believe it.

  People living on the edge of the western wilderness were no strangers to the loss of loved ones. She was lucky they’d remained safe for so long, especially living apart from the town as they did.

  Being left to fend for herself in that world was still a hard pill to swallow.

  Another gunshot went off, and she jumped with a gasp. She clutched at the red wool blanket in her lap and threw it around her shoulders as she stumbled out of the tent.

  The mid-morning sun hit her square in the face, and she balked, shading her eyes with a blanketed arm. A few people lingered at the central campfire. A few more stood at the edge of camp just a few tents away. Tom was among them.

  He lifted a revolver in the air and fired off another round. His two companions fell into a fit of laughter. One of them, a grizzled old man with a shaggy white beard, pointed into the field nearby. Sadie stood on tiptoe and strained to see what he was looking at.

  For a moment she saw nothing in the swaying green grass. Trees waved in the morning breeze. The field appeared empty.

  Then a red fox leapt into the air just twenty yards from the men, clearing the grass and twisting around with a yip. Its head popped back as it was yanked to the ground, and it bucked about in a fit of panic. Its leg must have been snagged in a trap.

  For some reason, the men found it hilarious.

  A fire boiled her insides, and she clenched her teeth. With her hands on her hips, she marched toward the group of ignoramuses.

  A hand on her shoulder stopped her.

  She wheeled around to find Clara hovering behind her.

  “I wouldn’t mess with them.” The blonde watched the group of men with sharp eyes. “Just saying. Not all the men around here are as nice as others.”

  “But they’re torturing that creature,” Sadie scoffed.

  “They’re not shooting at him. They just like to watch him dance around.” Clara’s voice lowered, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “They’re little more than children, some of these men. Toddlers with guns are more dangerous than real men.” She cracked a grin that was both amused and sad.

  Sadie wondered how long Clara had been putting up with the gang’s horrible men. And why.

  She shook her head and looked for the fox again. The tip of his ears breached the grass. He must have been lying down. Probably exhausted.

  Her father used traps in his hunting. She thought it was inhumane and unfair. He’d lectured plenty on upkeeping their business and that the traps were necessary, but when she sat on a pile of raccoon pelts on the way to market, she never felt like it was a fair trade.

  But she did like to eat and sleep indoors, so she avoided questioning her father's practices.

  “Too bad it ain’t a deer,” Clara said with a half-smile. “We’re running low on meat.”

  “You trap deer?” Sadie asked.

  “We don’t trap them, no. But we hunt them.” Clara’s nose wrinkled. “You’re not one of those greens only girls, are you? I mean, I can get you a bowl of vegetables, but most of them go into the pot with the meat, and I don’t―”

  Sadie held up a hand. “I’m not. I eat plenty of deer. I just don’t like the idea of snagging them first. It seems unfair. Especially if they’re going to be gawked at like that.” She sneered at the backs of the laughing men.

  “No one uses traps as far as I know. Just a good rifle. I think you’re turning green. Here, I’ll handle this.” Clara put a hand on Sadie’s arm as she strode past.

  Loose waves of blonde sashayed behind her back as she marched up to Tom and his friends.

  “Hey, Pearson. Ace needs a word with you. He seemed a little steamed up about that crate of beer you brought in. Didn’t break one did you?”

  Tom’s face skewed in annoyance. “I checked them all. Ain’t a broken bottle in there. I only jostled the crate a little.” He holstered his gun and stalked into camp with a growl.

  His two companions followed like bewildered puppies.

  Clara flashed a grin at Sadie, who felt a renewed warmth in her chest. Maybe not all outlaws were bad. She joined the woman on the edge of camp and peered out into the grass. Two trembling ears still topped the green blades.

  “Be careful,” Clara warned, holding out a small knife. “A trapped animal can be vicious.”

  “Rightfully so,” Sadie murmured as she took the tool and stepped into the field.

  She’d seen her father deal with snared animals a hundred times. A fox was just a kitten compared to a badger, but it could still cause some serious damage. Of course, her father’s intent had always been to kill the captor. She had the opposite in mind.

  Fitting the dull edge of the blade in her teeth, she swept the blanket off her shoulders, cradled it against her body, and grasped both corners.

  The fox didn’t stir as she neared it. As the rest of the creature’s body came into view, Sadie’s pulse pounded in her head.

  The sharp gold eyes turned up at her. His body went rigid for half a second before he leapt to his feet, but she was prepared. She pounced on him, trapping him beneath the outstretched cloth.

  What she wasn’t prepared for, however, was how much fight he still had left him in. He writhed and bucked against her body. A head clunk to the chin, a powerful foot in the chest. Once, he nearly wiggled his head out of one side of her net, but she managed to close it back around him.

  “Stop,” she pleaded through clenched teeth.

  The snare peg was just a foot away. If she could settle him down, she could cut the cord. It would be much too dangerous for the both of them to do it if he got free.

  After another two wild bucks, his body pressed low to the ground, and he stopped. Sadie froze, waiting, but nothing else happened. She smiled around the dull edge of the knife and slid it out of her mouth. As she leaned over to press it into the rope, the fox jumped up again. The blanket exploded in a fury of yowls and kicks beneath her.

  She sawed the knife into the rope furiously.

  But she wasn’t quick enough.

  Snapping jaws sprang loose of the blanket and pinned her arm. Teeth sank into the tender flesh underneath her forearm, and she yelped. The fox darted from her grasp and leapt away. The rope pulled taut for an instant before popping free. Red tail swirling over the top of the grass, he sprinted across the field into the trees beyond.

  Sadie sat back with a sigh and checked her arm. Small drops of blood had gathered on her pale skin, but the wound was superficial. He’d only tagged her.

  “Are you okay?” Clara called as she jogged up.

  “I’m fine,” Sadie said, smoothing out her dress and plucking the knife from the ground.

  Clara offered a hand and pulled Sadie to her feet.

  “At least he got away,” the blonde said. “That was a nice thing you did.”

  “Pretty stupid if you ask me,” came a deep drawl behind them.

  They turned to find Clay crossing the grass at the edge of camp.

  “Wild animals will destroy your day,” he continued. “It’s best to leave them alone.”

  “I seem to have a softer spot than normal for caged animals today,” Sadie said with a perk of an eyebrow.

  He regarded her for a moment, then nodded his head to her arm. “Didn’t help you much, did it?”

  She glanced down at the wound. The skin was turning red, and it was beginning to sting, but the bleeding had stopped.

  “Sometimes helping others hurts. I had to do something.”

  Clara cleared her throat. “She was just heading Tom and his goons off before they did something cruel.” The way she looked pointedly at Clay made Sadie’s stomach turn. “Speaking of heroes, I need a favor, Clay.”

  He rested his hands on his hips. “
Another one?”

  “Don’t play like that lamb and potatoes you brought back was for me. I just cooked it. You’re the one that wanted to eat it.”

  He rolled his head into a side nod. “Fine. What do you need?”

  “Meat. We’re running low. Ace sent Jack and Mason out to Emerald Falls this morning. You know Tom and Otis will take all day, and they’re not clean shots.”

  Sadie's pulse flickered, and she drew in a breath. Outlaws in Emerald Falls. It'd been a quiet place until the last couple of years. More and more strangers had been showing up and causing trouble.

  Or at least so she’d heard. She didn’t frequent town that much and had only witnessed one robbery since the most recent trouble started.

  It was odd seeing the crimes from the other side.

  “Sure, Clara. I’ll go out now and bring you back something. You, come with me,” Clay said, pointing at Sadie as he walked back into the tents.

  “Miss Tanner. I have a name,” she said as she followed. She wanted to protest going along hunting with him. More shooting made her stomach queasy. Especially when she could easily be the next victim.

  Reducing her number of captors from a whole gang to one, however, sounded quite promising.

  “Right, Miss Tanner. Name’s Clay Pearson, by the way. I don’t know if we were ever—“

  “I gathered.”

  He nodded stiffly, then continued on through camp. “Can you ride?”

  She frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Ride. You know, horses.”

  Annoyed disbelief tickled its way up her throat. “Can’t everyone?”

  His eyebrows popped, and he shook his head. “You’d be surprised. I’ve met some girls―”

  “Clay, she can stay with me if you’d rather go alone,” Clara offered, trailing them along the path through camp.

  “Thanks. I can keep an eye on her,” he said, coming to a stop and facing the women.

  “There’s food to prep. Clothes to wash. She’d have plenty to do.”

  Sadie looked between the two of them with narrowed eyes. She’d never been fought over before. The fact that they were holding her prisoner made it much less thrilling.