Kidnapped By An Outlaw (Emerald Falls Book 1)

by Ivy McAdams

“Piss off, Pearsons,” Clara growled. “She’s not a horse at auction.”

  She wrapped an arm around Sadie’s waist and led her back into the campsite.

  “She’s not a doll for you to play with either,” Tom barked. “She’s going to bring us in a good pile of money. We need it. You know that. You ain’t going to ruin this one for us.”

  Clara narrowed her eyes over her shoulder, then looked to Clay. “Bring that meat in for me. It’ll spoil out here.”

  “I’ve got it, Miss Clara.”

  His voice was softer, less stern, but Sadie didn't look back to check his expression. Instead, she let Clara shuttle her off toward her tent.

  Sadie hovered just inside the flap, her head still reeling from Clay’s question. Would Robert pay more money for her than Aunt Hilda? Of course he would, if he had more. His family was well off, but they also had a working cattle operation. He probably didn’t have the kind of extra cash the Van den Bergs wanted. Definitely not as much as Aunt Hilda.

  He’d give it away faster than that witch. Or at least she hoped he would.

  Neither option was a reliable one. She’d need to keep up her wealthy aunt facade until she could devise a plan to escape, before they found out the truth.

  But she couldn’t make her brain focus. No matter how many times she blinked, she couldn’t clear the cold blue eyes from her head.

  She’d thought Clay wasn’t as bad as the others. He was nothing like she’d imagined an outlaw. He was kind and helpful. Flirty and handsome. He had his hard edges, but something about him drew her in and made her want to learn more.

  Then he’d spouted off that horrible question, and her image of him popped like a bubble.

  Her teeth clenched. She felt like a fool. Why on earth had her mind wandered, thinking Clay was a decent man? Why did that bright look in his eyes stir her stomach like the first leap off of Horner Cliff into the frigid water below? Just like the lake in early spring, his eyes had turned cold and biting.

  She shivered.

  “Sometimes these men are just ridiculous,” Clara said as she pulled Sadie further into her tent. “Always obsessed with money. Not that we don’t need it. I mean, there’s a lot of people to care for here, and we generally don’t have much money.”

  Sadie hmphed in response.

  “But that’s no excuse. I hate how Tom treats Clay.”

  Sadie frowned. “Tom?”

  Clara popped open a small chest at the foot of her bed and rifled through the contents. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice that change. Tom orders Clay around like a dog.”

  Sadie’d been so shocked by Clay’s words that she hadn’t given their reason any thought. They had been too swift and cold.

  “He doesn’t seem like an idiot. Can’t he think for himself?”

  Clara scoffed as she pulled some garments from the chest. “Of course he can, but that’s not how these guys are around here. There’s a hierarchy.”

  “Outlaw gangs have hierarchies?”

  An amused smirk crossed Clara’s face as she handed Sadie a pair of trousers. “Sure they do. Here. These might not be what you’re used to, but they’ll make do while you get your dress fixed.”

  Sadie unfolded the pants and held them up. Brown cotton that didn’t look too big. “Thank you. I’ve never heard the politics of a gang. I thought they were just rowdy crowds of thieves and murderers.”

  Clara gave a small wince. “It’s not that cut and dry. Some gangs are pretty bad. A few are mostly non-violent. It’s just a group of people, after all.”

  Sadie stared at the blonde with a sour face. She wasn’t sure which was a harder pill to swallow, learning that the outlaw gang that’d been terrorizing Emerald Falls was made up of much more normal people than she’d ever imagined, or admitting that she was constantly misjudging them.

  “Let me help you with that,” Clara said, slinging an extra shirt over her shoulder and assisting with Sadie’s dress laces. “I’m sure you usually have someone to help you with this.”

  “Help me? Of course not. I dress myself.”

  “Oh, I thought maybe…”

  “We didn’t have help. We barely had enough money to take care of ourselves.”

  Clara’s voice dropped and scratched in her throat. “My apologies. I just saw―you have a beautiful dress.”

  “Thank you. It was my mother’s. We were traveling for a special occasion.”

  Truth told, she more often wore trousers like Clara’s. It was easier to work with the animals and help Papa with the tanning in pants. She had simpler dresses she went to town and met Robert in.

  Clara worked silently until the dress fell limp and handed the shirt over before turning away. Sadie slipped out of the dress and stepped into her borrowed clothes.

  In the corner of the tent, Clara cracked a grin as she busied herself with stacking a few books near her sleeping pallet.

  “I knew he liked you.”

  Sadie paused with the long-sleeved white shirt pulled halfway over her head. “What?”

  “Clay. You got him all flustered back there.”

  Sadie frowned, yanking the shirt down in place. It was a little large, but it would work just fine until she had more clothes. “Me? You were the one spouting off about Robert and making those men salivate over more money. How silly.”

  Clara coughed out a laugh, looking back with a grin so wide it made her cheek dimple. “Are you telling me you didn’t see Clay’s heart break when I told him you were engaged?”

  Sadie had seen him stiffen up, and she’d heard the way his voice wavered when he spoke. “He was only excited about the money. I revealed another source of cash they could get their grubby hands on. I’ll be more careful next time.”

  Clara popped a hip out and stuck a hand to it. “You need to get your eyes checked if that’s what you think. I took the wind right out of that boy’s sails telling him that.”

  “That wasn’t very nice of you,” Sadie murmured, letting the words sink in a little deeper. Had Clay’s heart really broken right in front of her? Had that beautiful blue spark in his eye gone out because he’d learned the truth?

  “I just wanted to see where his heart was,” Clara said, picking up Sadie’s dress and draping it across the bottom of her pallet. “I wasn’t expecting that much of a reaction though. At least, now we know.”

  Amusement had crept back into Clara’s smile. She was having fun with the game. Sadie didn’t know what to think of it. A part of her wanted to latch onto the notion. Something about the idea that Clay’s heart could feel for her made her pulse flicker. But then he’d turned those dead eyes on her. The same sharp, dark eyes as his brother. No one that looked at her like that could possibly have feelings for her.

  “Last night he called me a city girl, with the worst scowl I’ve ever seen on a man. I don’t think he has any interest in me.”

  Clara’s eyebrows perked. “Ah, yes. Clay’s bane.” She let out a hoot of laughter. “That boy poor worked so hard to fit in with those city girls. It about broke him apart.”

  Sadie tucked a tail of the long shirt into her pants. “He tried to fit in with them?” The very idea of the rustic outlaw trying to get by in the city was too much for her to imagine.

  “Sure. You do stupid things when you’re in love, I guess.”

  Sadie’s heart skipped a beat, and her mouth went dry. “He was in love with a city girl?”

  Clara crossed her arms over her chest with a lighthearted shrug. “I doubt it. You think you are at the time though, you know? I loved my husband once upon a time.” She let out a low whistle. “But Clay, he belongs to this life. He’s not made to wear nice suits and work in a factory, but he tried it. For about a week.”

  “What happened?”

  "He went off to St. Aspen with some girl. Pretty thing. Dressed really nice. She didn't know the first thing about life outside the city though. I guess he thought she was worth the lifestyle change, but it wasn't for him. All the dinner parties and politi
cs. He said so many of them were false. Fake smiles, fake words. It was impossible to tell what people actually wanted. And if you did want something, you didn't earn it. You paid for it."

  “I suppose that does sound more like the city life.”

  Clara nodded. “You can’t make yourself fit into a puzzle you don’t belong in though. The men and women there were soft, and no one could take care of themselves. I suppose that’s what got Clay in the end. Changing everything he knew was hard enough, but the girl was too weak to handle him. She needed someone to wait on her, dress her, and never did anything to help herself. I suppose that’s why he was so impressed with you shooting that deer.” Clara’s eyebrow arched, and she grinned mischievously.

  “Dream all you want,” Sadie said with a shrug. “I’m just looking forward to getting out of here and starting my life with Robert.”

  It was a phrase that’d rolled around in her head for ages. She’d looked forward to escaping her life with Papa in the cabin in the woods. The thought of leaving him had often weighed on her, but she was excited to be a real part of a community. Robert was her ticket to that.

  Whatever she had to do to make that happen, she would. Even if it meant burying all Clara’s giggly gossip and Clay’s beautiful eyes away forever.

  Chapter 9

  Later that afternoon, Sadie stood at the edge of the campfire, stirring the contents of a large black pot. The simmering of venison and fresh vegetables made her mouth water. Grief had still been heavy in her stomach that morning, and she’d skipped breakfast. After a hard day’s work following, it felt as if it had been days since she’d last eaten.

  “That smells mighty nice,” a man said as he came around the fire behind her.

  Sadie moved aside to let him come into the community space. He stepped around one of the many barrels and seats arranged around the fire pit and settled himself in.

  He wore simple trousers and a thermal shirt. His face split into a grin that reached his eyes, and he popped the white hat on his head up with a finger. She recognized that hat. It was one of the men who’d been watching her the night before outside of Ace’s tent.

  “I’m starving,” he said. “I hope that’s ready.”

  “It is,” she said. Some of the nerves that had bunched inside her when he appeared, a random gang member she’d only seen once from across the camp, eased at the sight of his bright smile.

  “Can I get two of those bowls?” he asked, nodding to the stack Clara had dropped off moments before.

  Sadie retrieved two of the utensils and held them out for the stranger. He pointed around her at the pot.

  “And some of that stew?”

  Sadie frowned back at the pot. She wasn’t a food server any more than she was a seamstress, which is why she still stood in Clara’s borrowed clothes.

  “Um, sure.”

  Clara stepped up next to her and picked up two more bowls. “Go ahead and scoop them some. It’s better if we do it rather than let those dirty boys stick their hands in the pot.” She winked as she spooned out some stew.

  Sadie nodded as she did the same. “I used to cook for my father every day. It’ll be strange not doing that anymore.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll have a new husband to cook for.”

  “If he’ll still have me.”

  Clara passed a bowl to another fellow that approach, skin as black as coal, and grinned. “Honey, you’re not missing out on a damn thing. I cooked for my husband for five years before I left. I swore I’d never do it again, but then I got here. No one demands I do it, but they appreciate it. It feels different.”

  It must because she smiled as she handed out food. One by one. Tom, Ace, and the two rascals Tom had been cutting up with that morning sat at one end of the fire. A tall woman with long ringlets of red hair stepped into the circle and sat beside the man with the white hat. She looped her arm through his and pressed her cheek into his shoulder. He practically melted into her.

  “Here we go,” Sadie said as she handed him the bowls.

  “Thank you,” he took both, passing one to the woman at his side.

  She cupped the bowl in both hands but made no movement to sit up and eat. She seemed content nestled there, her body contoured to his and her nose rubbing against the shirt on his shoulder. Was she smelling him? Sadie averted her eyes for a moment, wondering if she was intruding in an intimate moment, but she couldn’t keep them away for long.

  The way his arm slid around her back and pulled her in closer, hand lingering on her waist, made a shiver tickle through her spine. They looked so comfortable and relaxed. Safe and content. That woman must have nothing to fear tucked into him like that.

  When the man’s eyes caught Sadie’s, she cleared her throat and went back to stirring the pot.

  “So you’re the Miss Tanner I’ve heard the boys talking about?”

  A bashful flutter tickled her cheeks. “I am.”

  “I guess these are weird circumstances, but you seem like a mighty fine lady. It’s nice to meet you. Name’s Mason Kent.”

  The man set his bowl on his knees and stretched out a hand. Sadie stared at it a moment as if it might bite her before placing her fingers in his.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Kent.”

  “Oh, please. Call me Mason. This is Bridget.”

  The woman next to him smiled around a mouthful of stew and lifted her bowl. “Pleasure to meet you. This is delicious.”

  “Well, that was Clara,” Sadie said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder.

  “I heard you were bringing in some money,” Mason interrupted. “They got a ransom on you or are you a―”

  Clara cut in, slipping an arm around Sadie’s shoulders. “She’s visiting for a few days and making a charitable donation.” She lifted a brow with pursed lips at Mason. “What are you doing asking questions anyway? You know what a girl held against her will looks like.”

  Sadie saw the subtle turn of Clara's head in Bridget's direction and the way the red-headed woman busied herself in her stew. The bright demeanor on Mason's face sagged a bit before he nodded.

  “Right. Sorry. Glad to have you with us, Miss Tanner.”

  “It’s Sadie,” she offered.

  The couple fell into their dinner silently. Clara gave Sadie a strong pat on the shoulder.

  “We’re not big believers in the ransoming thing around here,” the blonde said. “Holding others against their will. Bridget there was a captive when we met her. Lucky for her Mason has a weak heart and rescued her.”

  The sparkle in Mason’s eyes returned, and he bumped his shoulder lightly into his companion. “It didn’t take much to win me over, I admit. Ain’t she beautiful?”

  Bridget’s cheeks turned pink, and she smiled up at him. The two lovebirds made eyes at each other, and Sadie shifted to turn her back on them, an embarrassed smile on her face.

  “They’re like puppies,” she whispered.

  “You have no idea,” Clara snickered. “Regular Romeo and Juliet there.”

  Sadie blinked. “You’ve read Romeo and Juliet?”

  “Sweetie, just ‘cause I live in the woods doesn’t mean I never went to school.”

  Sadie bit into her lower lip. “Well, I didn’t mean…”

  “It’s okay, but it’s true. Romeo and Juliet right there. It came with the feuding and the whole lot. Thankfully most everything is back to normal, and their ending turned out much better than Shakespeare’s.”

  Sadie stole a peek at the couple just in time to see Mason run his fingers through the long fiery locks while Bridget finished her stew. It was adorable.

  “What was the feud about?” she whispered back to Clara.

  “She’d been living with―”

  Clara’s words were cut off by the sound of approaching hooves. Everyone went silent, and Sadie looked around. The crew was frozen, listening. It was then she realized what a large group had gathered around the fire. At least ten were posed with bowls in hand.

  Except for Clay
.

  Her heart fumbled through a beat, wondering where he'd gone off to. She'd only just begun to wonder if the gang was expecting someone dangerous and if Clay was alright when he appeared through the trees at the edge of the tents. A shovel dragged the ground behind him before he dropped it outside one of the dwellings.

  The dull hum of conversation started up again. The white-bearded fellow sitting next to Ace laughed above the others.

  “Where the hell you been? Been digging for gold, boy?”

  Clay’s eyes were cold when he looked at him. “Unfortunately not.” Then his gaze jumped to Sadie, and she started. His eyes shifted, opening and softening. “I had to bury a body.”

  Her breath caught, and her chest constricted as the realization hit her instantly.

  He’d buried her father.

  She dropped the ladle into the pot and strode to the side of the circle, high stepping over a square hay bale turned into a seat. Clay stood just beyond the perimeter, dusty hands shoved into his pockets. She drove herself forward without a second thought and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her burst of tears into his shoulder.

  “Thank you,” she choked.

  He stumbled a step back, but his hands moved around her shoulders to embrace her in return. His body was stiff, but his arms were warm. After a silent moment, he patted her back.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Feeling suddenly self-conscious, she leaned away, wiping at her wet cheeks with her wrist.

  “I’m sorry. I just―”

  The edge of Clay’s mouth turned up, and he rubbed at her back with a hand that still remained. “It’s alright, Miss Tanner.”

  Clara cleared her throat behind them. “Clay, you hungry?”

  He looked up over Sadie’s head. “I’m starving.”

  “Come get some of this food then. Hurry it up. I can’t hold off the piglets all night.”

  Clay gave Sadie's arm a final pat and stepped around her. At first, she felt a chill, standing away from the fire without his body to block the wind. Then his voice was near her ear.

  “Have you eaten?”

  She looked over her shoulder and found his face so close to her that a flush rose up in her chest and neck. Those big blue eyes looked deeper than ever, and they beckoned her.