Kidnapped By An Outlaw (Emerald Falls Book 1)

by Ivy McAdams

  A single tall aspen tree stood at the far end of the field, branches of bright yellow leaves swaying in the breeze.

  When she looked back at Clay, he bounced his eyebrows tauntingly and leaned over Georgene’s shoulders. She sped up, and they pulled away. Sadie opened her mouth in protest, but a smile erupted instead.

  If he wanted to race, she’d give him one.

  Despite never having the opportunity to run full out on a horse before, she knew how it worked. She loosened her reins and squeezed her knees, asking Clover for more speed. The gray mare’s legs churned beneath them, and they closed the gap their competitors had created.

  The thrill rushed through Sadie’s body like an oncoming train. Wind in her face and loud hoof beats to drown out the blood hammering in her ears. As she and Clover moved ahead, elation surged through her. They were going to win!

  Sadie cast a look over her shoulder to see Clay holding back his reins an inch, and she choked out a scowl of a laugh. She hadn’t had any delusions she could beat a horseman like him, but she hadn’t expected him to let her win either.

  She passed the edge of the tree and pulled Clover around in a tight circle to slow her down. Clay did the same, circling Georgene around the tree once before slowing her to a stop nearby and dismounting. Sadie watched him curiously as she caught her breath. On the ground again, Clay strode toward her.

  When he reached her side, he offered her a hand. There was a flare in his nose, a rise and fall in the triangle of tanned chest she could see in the open collar of his shirt, that told her the ride had stolen his breath away as well. Something about that sent a flutter through her.

  She took his hand and slid out of the saddle. Instead of stepping back and giving her space, he stood still and pulled her body into his on the way down. The shock left her staring up at him with wide eyes.

  He moved with a fluid motion that gave her little room for retreat, but she was sure she wouldn’t have tried anyway. His fingers squeezed into her waist as he shifted her body, and she found her back pressed into the smooth white bark of the aspen.

  His eyes were locked onto hers so strongly she thought she might be lost forever. They pulled at her, demanded her, begged her. When his fingers touched her face, she opened her mouth to speak his name, but her voice was lost when he leaned over her, shrouding her face beneath the dark brim of his hat, and his mouth captured hers.

  A shock of electricity hit her instantly. His lips were so smooth and warm, and his oaken smell flooded her. It was nearly too much, but she wanted more. She leaned into him.

  What started as a delicate test quickly became a hungry feast. As soon as she reacted in kind, Clay cupped her face to pull her in closer. His head tilted, and his lips explored hers in fervor. With each new movement and caress of his mouth, he pulled new layers of buzzing heat to every inch of her body.

  When his lips parted and the tip of his tongue teased her mouth, a gasp shook her. The wet heat was both startling and delicious, awakening more corners of her body. She hesitated only a moment before opening her lips to him. He’d only just slipped his tongue in further when a scream nearby made her jump.

  She clung to him in utter shock as she looked around.

  At the edge of the forest behind them stood a bull elk, shaking out his thick neck fur and raising his head for another shrill bugle. The high pitched shriek had Sadie shrinking against Clay’s chest, and he held her tight there.

  “An elk,” she whispered. The very beast she and Papa had been searching for in earnest for months.

  “Just one,” Clay murmured. His breath was short, and she stared up at him again. His mouth was red and moist. She wanted to reach up and plant her lips to it again, but he spoke instead. “But bulls are dangerous during rut. We need to get away from this fellow.”

  A small part of her thought to beg him not to. To stay and wrap her in those strong arms again and continue showing her what interesting things he could do with his tongue. The louder part, however, was questioning what the hell she was doing kissing Clay Pearson out in the middle of the forest.

  “I’ve probably kept you away from camp too long anyway,” he said. “Soon people will start to wonder where we’ve gotten off to soon.”

  For once she wanted to hang her reputation and not worry about what everyone else thought she was up to, but it wasn’t a moral society that was judging her purity back at camp. It was her captors, and she was still a prisoner.

  Although being a prisoner at the hands of Clay was starting to not seem so bad, and she couldn’t help but think so their entire ride back to camp.

  Chapter 11

  Avoiding Clay and those eyes in camp was difficult. She'd spent the rest of the day doing her best not to think of their outing, and threw herself into helping Clara prepare dinner and serve it with a renewed vigor. After dinner, she'd retreated to her tent without a word. Even small talk with Clara was too difficult. She was too good at reading people.

  The next afternoon the women busied themselves prepping a hearty lunch for the men that’d gone down to the river to fish that morning. Clay was one of them. Sadie had spent most of the morning both relieved not to be around him and disappointed she couldn’t at least catch a glimpse of him across camp.

  The afternoon sun peeked in and out of the spotty cloud cover as Sadie cut into a firm tomato. The other women around the fire chatted loudly.

  “Don’t you worry about hurting his feelings?” Bridget asked as she cut the peel away from a dull red apple.

  Ginny plaited her long dark hair over her shoulder. “Of course I do. Jack’s my friend. I enjoy seeing him happy.”

  “You must enjoy it a lot,” Clara said.

  Sadie sniggered, and Ginny threw her brush at Clara. It bounced off her turned shoulder as the blonde laughed.

  “My job is making him happy,” Ginny said, turning her nose up into the air.

  “But it’s not,” Bridget protested. “Not anymore.”

  “Ace doesn’t keep prostitutes,” Clara directed at Sadie matter-of-factly.

  Sadie blinked at Ginny as she tied off her braid. “You’re a prostitute?”

  Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but Clara interrupted. “She used to be. Now she’s one of us.”

  Ginny smiled sheepishly. “Ol’ Joe liked me so much he brought me on home. May he rest in peace.”

  The three women bowed their heads for an instant before speaking again.

  “Then Ace brought you in as part of the family,” Clara said. “So Bridget’s right. It’s no longer your job to make any of these men happy.”

  “I know,” Ginny murmured, “but Jackie’s so cute. Even more so when he’s happy, if you know I mean.”

  Sadie lowered her head. She couldn't imagine the life of a prostitute. The very idea of becoming a single man's wife was a big task after living so isolated. Adopting wifely duties seemed paramount enough, but adding on a crew of others? She'd been around Emerald Falls and St. Aspen enough to know men. She'd even stepped foot inside the saloon once or twice. She'd seen the prostitutes and the sea of pigs that fawned over them. She shuddered.

  “Sounds like you love him to me,” Clara said as she shook a handful of salt into her bowl of tomatoes.

  “Making Mason happy makes me happy,” Bridget said with a smile, “and I love him.”

  Ginny shrugged a shoulder and plucked up an apple and an extra knife. “Maybe I just don’t know what love is. You always make it sound so beautiful.”

  “I think it is beautiful.” Bridget gave a dreamy sigh.

  “Sure. Mason rescued you. Jack is just...well, you know, Jack. He drinks too much, and he smells a little, but he’s a nice guy.”

  Sadie paused as she cleaned her knife, watching Ginny with a deepening crease in her brow. She’d once thought Robert smelled of cows. She hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but things had changed. As soon as her mind flitted to Clay, she was overwhelmed by the memory of his leathery oaken scent. It was enough to carry her off i
nto a memory of the day before.

  Clara’s voice brought her back. “Just a nice guy isn’t going to keep you happy.”

  Sadie stared at her, recalculating her thoughts. Robert didn’t smell bad, and she’d never seen him drink a bit of alcohol. He was a gentleman. He was nice. Wasn’t that enough for a good husband?

  “A nice man sounds like a good man to me,” she ventured. “I can’t say I’ve met many men that glow like a god.”

  A laugh burst out of Clara, but Bridget sat forward on her barrel with a frown.

  “It can be more than that. Some men are special.”

  Ginny snickered too. “Some have more money.”

  “No, no. I mean, you can find one that touches your soul in just the right way, you know?”

  “Are you sure it was your soul he was touching?” Clara asked with a snort.

  Bridget’s eyes widened, and she chucked a half-peeled apple at the blonde, who dodged and threw her hands in the air.

  “Why’s everyone trying to pelt me?”

  “Just because you don’t believe in love doesn’t mean it isn’t out there,” Bridget said.

  Clara’s lips pressed into a firm line, and she went back to stirring tomatoes. An awkward silence fell. Sadie’s brain whirred. Bridget said she’d found a man that touched her soul in just the right way. The idea both twisted and warmed Sadie’s insides.

  Lunches with Robert were nice because she got to dress up and go into town. She enjoyed sitting at a table with him, and sometimes his mother or Lilah, and having other ladies look her way, wondering who she was and where she’d come from. Having Robert cut his eyes at her over their meal had made her smile.

  But it hadn't made her breath catch or her face flush with a warmth that tickled her skin and her stomach. His eyes didn't snag hers and refuse to let them go like a beautiful blue pair she'd stumbled upon.

  Was that what it was like to have your soul touched?

  A shiver wiggled up her spine, and Bridget broke the silence.

  “I just worry that you might be wasting your time with Jack.”

  Ginny nodded. “I know, but where am I going to go to find someone else? If I leave this place, I’ll have to start working again to feed myself. It’ll never work out.”

  “Something will come about when you least expect it,” Sadie said.

  Clara caught her eye for the first time that morning and gave her a knowing smile. Sadie cleared her throat, making a big production of wiping her hands on a rag.

  “What about you, Sadie?” Ginny asked, smiling a little too brightly as she sat next to her. “Tell us about your fiancé. I bet he’s dashing, hmm?”

  Sadie pasted on a smile, and her insides rolled over. For the first time since she found out she’d be marrying Robert, she didn’t want to talk about him.

  “Of course,” she managed. “He’s―”

  A loud commotion just beyond the edge of the campsite cut off her words and drew their attention.

  “I don’t think letting her walk out of camp is the smartest idea,” Ace stated, his voice lifted high into the air. He stood with his back to them, arms crossed in front of him and shoulders solid and stern.

  “She wouldn’t be alone,” Clay’s low voice growled back. Sadie perked up, leaning in the direction of the conversation. “I’d have my eye on her. Besides, she’d be safer with me than leaving her here, and you know it.”

  The women remained silent, listening with lifted brows and fixed stares.

  “You know she’s worth a lot of money,” Ace said. “We need her back here in the next couple days.”

  “I’ll be sure that she’s here. The delivery is the day after tomorrow. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Don’t tell me what to worry about, boy. You just be certain you don’t screw this up.”

  “Have I ever screwed up on you before?”

  Ace snorted and rubbed a hand over his face, stepping away for a moment and returning. Sadie could nearly see the tension rising off his shoulders like steam from a hot rock in the morning.

  “What’s gotten into Clay?” Ginny murmured.

  “I don’t know,” Clara whispered. “I’ve never seen him buck Ace before. Something’s got him all stirred up.”

  Her eyes met Sadie’s for a moment, and Sadie bit into her bottom lip. She busied herself with scooping up peeled apples and dropping them in her bucket.

  The men spoke again, this time too low for the women to hear. Sadie stopped moving, straining to catch a word, but before she knew it, heavy footsteps were approaching. She jumped back to the apples, picking up a freshly peeled one and slicing it neatly within her palm, dropping the chunks into a pot of boiling water.

  “Miss Tanner,” Clay called as he marched up.

  She jumped, nearly skewering her skin, and looked up at him.

  “Pack whatever you’ll need to travel for a few days. We’re leaving out in an hour.”

  Then he was gone, heading off toward his tent and leaving her stunned.

  “What was that?” Bridget hissed.

  Clara shook her head. “I have no idea.”

  A tiny thrill wiggled in the pit of her stomach at the idea of traveling with Clay, but he didn’t seem too happy about it. Rationality settled over her and tried to smother the tickling feeling inside her.

  Where were they going? What was he so mad about? Was she in any danger?

  “Do you think I should be worried?” she murmured, looking around at each of the women.

  Ginny was the first to purse her lips and shake her head. “About Clay? I wouldn’t be.”

  Sadie looked back down the path where Clay had disappeared into his tent. Logic told her she needed to be careful and make no assumptions, but something in her heart told her there wasn’t a thing to fear. Being away from the gang would actually be a relief, and she smiled.

  * * *

  Except they were not alone riding away from the gang.

  Sadie rode Clover down a beaten path through the woods, behind Clay and in front of Mason. She’d had nothing to pack up as Clay suggested, so she’d had lunch with the girls while she waited for him to return. Ginny had taken a brush to her neglected hair and spun it into a sun-kissed braid down her back. When Clay came back to her, he had horses and Mason in tow.

  "I love this time of year," Mason was saying as they plodded along a game trail through the trees. "The air getting cooler, and the leaves turning colors. And all that food? Mmm."

  Sadie didn’t have to check over her shoulder to hear the grin in his voice.

  “My mama used to make up a fancy little feast at the end of harvest, and we’d have pheasant and pies, and my daddy loved those purple eggplants. My mama was the best cook in three counties. I’d eat so much I was afraid I’d pop.”

  He chuckled and made some more appreciative sounds. The tone of them even pulled Clay around to look. He gave Sadie a sly smile, and she had to cover her mouth to hold in a fit of giggles. Mason didn’t seem to notice.

  “I’m going to build Bridget a house with a big kitchen one day. She says she likes to cook, but it’s not as if we have a proper set up out here in the woods. Maybe I’ll find out one day soon that she can cook like Mama.”

  Sadie looked back in time to see his eyes sparkle. His face was stretched in a wide smile, and his gaze was lost in the trees as they passed. He was in his own world. A warm feeling spread into her chest, watching him think of Bridget.

  She’d seen a few girls fawn over boys as she grew up, but she’d never seen the boys do it in return. Not like this. The way Bridget had spoken of love earlier wasn’t near as surprising as Mason walking with his head in the clouds.

  It was different but alluring.

  Where were the men like that in the world?

  “Miss Tanner.” Clay cleared his throat.

  Her breath caught when she realized he’d held his horse back and was riding alongside her.

  “Yes?”

  “I know Mason likes to talk a lot,” h
e whispered.

  “It’s fine,” she said, a tiny giggle in her breath. “He seems happy.”

  Clay gave an exaggerated eye roll, but there was still a tilt of a smile on his lips. “He’s been acting like that since he came back with Bridget.”

  “I heard someone say he rescued her. What happened?”

  Clay’s eyes jumped back to Mason for a moment, and he kept his voice low. “She was being held by another gang. Nasty fellows. She was lucky he came across her.”

  Even though she didn’t know Bridget well, her heart went out to her. Being with the Van den Berg gang had been nerve-racking for the last few days, but her experience had been surprisingly gentle. How bad did a gang have to be for a fellow outlaw to call them nasty? She grimaced into her fingers.

  “You think Ace is ever going to leave Ibis Ellard alone?” Mason asked as he sidled up along Sadie’s other side. “I mean, I hate him too but it’s been nine years. Ace has caused enough havoc to run the guy off.”

  Clay gave Sadie an exasperated smile. Mason was talking again.

  “It has been a lot of chaos, but Ellard hasn’t gone anywhere,” Clay said.

  "Because he's an idiot." Mason shrugged. "I don't mind running the guy into the ground. It just seems like a wasted effort sometimes."

  “Except for the money part.”

  “Except for that.”

  Clay pulled back on his reins and dropped back along Sadie’s horse’s flank. “Take the front up there, Mason. We’re almost to the road. Be on the lookout.”

  Mason slid a rifle out of his saddle and set it on his lap. With his eyes on the move, he fell silent.

  “That’s better,” Clay whispered, leaning forward in his saddle to smile at Sadie.

  Her cheeks flushed. The sunlight lit up a handful of shades of blue in his eyes. It wasn’t often that he removed his hat, but he’d hung it on the saddle horn in front of him a mile ago, revealing the long sandy strands of hair.

  “Where are we going anyway?” she asked.

  He sat up in his saddle again, clearing his throat and adjusting his seat. “We’ve got a job to take care of for Ace. Well, a couple.”