The Innocent and the Outlaw (Outlaws of the Wild West)

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The Innocent and the Outlaw (Outlaws of the Wild West) Page 15

by Harper St. George


  Taking care to pull the door closed softly behind her so as not to wake any of the servants who shared this wing with her, she gingerly let go of the doorknob and turned to make her way to Glory’s room, but a broad chest and set of shoulders stopped her in her tracks. She shrieked, but managed to bring her hand up to stifle most of the noise. Looking up, she wasn’t at all surprised when her gaze settled on Hunter’s angry, green stare. He was dressed in clean clothes she hadn’t seen before, a simple button-up shirt in dark blue with tan breeches and a coat pulled onto his wide frame.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

  She tried to be angry that he would attempt to sway her, but she couldn’t summon the sentiment, not with the memory of his body against her own, inside her, bringing her so much pleasure she thought she’d die from it. And especially not with the endearing way his hair still stuck out in all directions and she could still feel the sensation of those thick, silky strands sliding between her fingers as she held him close.

  Dropping her hand, she felt her lips turn up in a smile that she couldn’t stop and she clenched her fingers into a fist to stop from reaching out to touch him. She regretted not being able to experience waking up with him, looking over and catching his smile as his gaze found hers in bed.

  “Good morning, Hunter.” Heaven help her, even now staring at his perfectly formed lips all she wanted to do was kiss him.

  His frown didn’t let up. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going home.” She had the almost uncontrollable urge to run her thumb over the deep grooves between his eyebrows and smooth them out. He wouldn’t appreciate the gesture, though she half considered it just to see if it would make him angrier.

  He had the nerve to look stunned by her admission. “Emmy, you’re not free to go.”

  “I know you think I’m still your captive, but I’m not. I escaped.”

  For a moment the frown disappeared and his eyes widened, perplexed as if he didn’t know what to say, his hand running through his hair mussing it even more, but then he dropped it so it smacked against his pant leg and the scowl was back. “You didn’t escape. We found you.”

  Waving her hand dismissively, she tried to step around him, but the hallway was so narrow in this wing that he only had to shift to the right to block her path. “Look around you. We’re in Helena now, in civilization, you don’t just take people captive in the middle of civilization.” She didn’t want to mention the gunmen Glory employed, but she would if it came to it.

  “You’re saying that you refuse to be my hostage?”

  “Yes, it’s a perfectly reasonable thing to say. And that’s exactly what I’m saying. Now if you’ll get out of my way—” Her voice let off sharply with a squeak when he picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder and turned on his heel, stalking away with her. “Are you mad? You can’t do this. Everyone will know that I’m going against my will. You can’t get away with this.” When all reasoning got her nowhere because he continued walking steadily down the hall, she yelled, “Put me down!” That only earned her a sharp smack on the bottom and a command to be quiet, which only renewed her struggles. “Hunter Jameson, you cannot mean to take me out of here. I’ll scream at the top of my lungs until everyone hears. I’ll yell the entire town down around you. I don’t care if you’re as rich as a sultan, you can’t take me out of here and get away with it!”

  A door opened along the hallway, just far enough for her to see a boot-clad toe. “Help me! Tell Glory.” Before she even finished saying the madam’s name, the servant stepped back into his room and shut the door, turning the bolt with a definitive click. For the very first time that morning her confidence faltered and she wondered if the madam actually would be able to save her at all.

  Of course she would, she had men with guns and Glory had assured her that all of the women who worked there were perfectly safe. That didn’t stop her from struggling. She twisted and turned and when that didn’t work she pounded his back with her fists. The solid muscle that she had so admired the night before had become a prison from which there seemed to be no escape. After a couple of turns, the hallway widened and she recognized the fine carpet of the guest wing. Then he was opening his door and they were back in his familiar room where he sat her down a bit roughly on the bed.

  She came up quickly, expecting him to hold her down, but he just stood there, watching her as she regained her footing. The door stood wide-open behind him, which surprised her. She had expected him to lock her in again. “You won’t get out of here with me. Glory assured me that she wouldn’t let that happen.”

  He wasn’t angry anymore. His expression was suspiciously resigned as he watched her, making a foreboding tremor snake down her spine. Something was wrong.

  “Glory won’t have much to say about it,” he said in a strangely calm, strangely soft voice.

  She laughed. “Oh, I assure you that she will.”

  “No, Emmy, she won’t.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared her down with those intense eyes. The thing was—she believed him. Something about that look told her that he was very confident in his words, but he wasn’t overly arrogant. He just stood there with quiet reassurance in what he said.

  “What have you done?”

  “We found your sisters.” That was it, no further explanation.

  She shook her head in disbelief, though deep down inside herself something told her that he was speaking the truth. “I don’t believe you. It’s too convenient after last night. I only just told you about them.”

  “Their names are Virginia and Rose. They’re about ten and eleven, give or take. Blonde.”

  “I still don’t believe you. You could have asked anyone...” But he couldn’t have. No one at the brothel or in all of Helena, as far as she knew, knew her or her sisters. There was only Glory and she doubted that the madam had told him anything about them. It was impossible unless he’d gone back into Whiskey Hollow and talked to someone there.

  He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Zane, the one you call the giant, went back into town the night we took you and found the saloon owner. He was on his way out to your farm.”

  “Dear God, did he shoot Jake?”

  “Jake’s fine,” he hurried to reassure her. “Zane figured he was going after you and followed him to your farm where he found the two girls. He tied Jake up, then met up with us at the cavern.”

  “Where are the children?”

  “They’re here. In Helena.”

  It was almost too much to take in at once. Her mind was swimming with the idea that her sweet little sisters had traveled all that way with outlaws. They must have been terrified. They must still be terrified. “Have you no decency at all that you would kidnap children?”

  “They’re fine, unharmed and well taken care of at my home, just outside of town. My housekeeper raised me and I swear to you that she’s the best there is. I wouldn’t put them in danger.”

  “You put me in danger. I’d never been shot at until you took me.”

  “That’s not fair, Emmy. Campbell sent those men.”

  “Don’t call me Emmy! I can’t believe that I let you...” Her voice choked off as she remembered all the ways she had touched him and had let him touch her. All the time she had led herself to believe that he felt something for her, when the entire time she had known better. She’d walked right into his arms with her eyes wide-open. She’d known it was possible he was only using her, but she’d done it anyway, telling herself that she’d just wanted to use him, too. He had known all along that he had her sisters and was just waiting for the right time to spring that trap. Conveniently that time had come after she had given herself to him. Men like him would always get what they wanted first.

  “Emmy.” His voice lowered to a soothing tone and he stepped forward, cupping his hands around her shoulders to pul
l her forward, but she jerked away.

  “Don’t touch me. You could have told me before we slept together, but you didn’t because you knew that I wouldn’t sleep with you if you did.”

  “That’s not how I remember it. I never intended to sleep with you. We were arguing and then things got out of hand. You wanted me, Emmy. You wanted what happened between us as much as I did. Don’t let this ruin last night.”

  “How can it not ruin last night? You taking me captive, you holding my sisters captive...?” Her voice rose with each word.

  “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

  “How else could it be?”

  “I swear to you that they haven’t been harmed, nor will they be harmed. We just want to exchange them for Cas’s brother. I didn’t start this thing. Campbell did.”

  “I didn’t start it either, Hunter, but here we stand.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, his face stoic but with no shred of anger left, and despite her best intentions she felt that look all the way down to her toes. “What happened between us last night is real, Emmy. If I had wanted another woman in my bed last night, I would have found one. It’s you I wanted.”

  “Well, congratulations. You had me.”

  “Dammit, it’s not that way with us and you know it.” His fists clenched at his sides.

  “Then tell me, how is it?” Her breath lodged in her throat as she waited for his answer. He felt something for her, she wanted to believe that, but she also believed that whatever his feelings were, they wouldn’t change anything. When Ship finally decided to hand over their brother, they’d hand her over and she’d go back to her life in Whiskey Hollow. Or perhaps, after everything was done, Hunter would ask her to become his mistress—his whore—and that couldn’t happen. She couldn’t allow that to happen, because—what would become of her after he was finished with her?

  She thought of her mother hunched over the washing board on the farm where everything seemed dusty and old no matter how clean and new it was. Everything there had been hard and dirty and colorless. Even her mother. After years of dealing with Ship’s broken promises she’d become a gray shell of herself, lifeless even before death. She didn’t want that fate for herself or the children.

  He was just parting his lips to answer when Zane poked his head in the open doorway. “The boys are ready.” His dark gaze looked pointedly at her as he raised his eyebrows in question and glanced back at Hunter. Though he didn’t say the words, he was asking if she was coming peacefully or if Hunter needed his help.

  Without taking his gaze from her face, Hunter spoke, his voice hard again. “We’ll be ready in five. Have the horses by the back door.”

  Zane left, his footsteps receding down the hallway, and it felt like he took all of the air in the room with him. All of the fight left her, leaving her deflated. There was no use in fighting. She had to go with them because she had to be there for her sisters. She’d play hostage. If Hunter had his way, when the time came they’d hand her back to Ship without qualm and she’d go back to serving drinks in the saloon. Only this time it would be so much harder because she’d had a taste of happiness, a glimpse of freedom, and it had been cruelly snatched away from her. As she watched him gather his things, she kept telling herself that she should have known better. She was just a bastard born in a whorehouse; she didn’t deserve to have good things happen to her.

  He walked over to her when he was ready to go, reaching for her hand, but stopping just short. She didn’t move the few inches needed to make contact, there was no point. She’d get through the next days or weeks by keeping herself away from him and doing her best to forget how good it felt to have him hold her while they slept. One day soon she’d be able to forget about him completely.

  “I’m coming with you, but I won’t be bound again.” Wrapping her arms about her waist, she followed him when he turned wordlessly and walked from the room. She didn’t say a word until Glory approached them at the back door wearing a look of concern. Thanking the woman for her hospitality and apologizing for the trouble she had caused, she walked to the familiar black horse. When Hunter would have lifted her on, she shrugged him off and pulled herself up. After taking a moment to speak with the madam, their voices so low that she couldn’t make out what they said, he followed. Grabbing the reins, he clicked his tongue and they set off for his home. Closing her eyes momentarily, she prayed for the strength to stay away from him even though the heat of his body at her back felt so good.

  Opening her eyes, she resolved to stay alert the entire trip, looking for landmarks to guide her back to town. Now that the shock had worn off, she realized that perhaps it was a good thing he’d brought the children. It would save her from having to go back and get them. Because returning to the farm wasn’t an option. She would escape and take her sisters away from the madness.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hunter tightened his arm around her waist, taking their last minutes on the horse to hold her slim body close as his home came into view. About a two-hour ride eastward out of Helena, the Jameson Ranch was set near the back of a valley with nothing but clear blue sky and the mountains behind it. Rolling hills sat at the edge of the wide valley before it so that the house could only be seen in glimpses from the road until the rider passed a natural break in the hills and then it appeared through the awning of cottonwood trees at the base of the hills. Two-storied and sprawling, with a wood and stone exterior, it was a product of its environment, natural and almost uncultured except for its sheer size. A wide veranda, along with its twin on the second level, circled the whole house and every bedroom had its own bathing chamber and sitting room, an excess that his mother had insisted upon. Not that she had stayed around long after it was built to actually enjoy the luxuries.

  Hunter grimaced as memories of his mother threatened to spoil the joy he always felt upon first seeing his home after a long absence. Glancing down at the woman in his arms, he couldn’t help but think that she wasn’t anything like her, she wasn’t frivolous or shallow at all. She stared straight ahead, taking in the view of his home, and he longed to ask her what she thought. To speak to her of how much he loved it. How he had rebuilt the stables with his own hands. How he had hand-selected every horse within it and saw a select few bred to produce some of the most sought-after racing stock in the country. He wanted to tell her that the Missouri flowed just a little over two miles behind the house and that he’d spent many long summer days swimming and fishing its banks. He wanted to take her there. He wanted her to be there long enough for the water to warm so they could swim together naked under the sun.

  Jesus, Emmy. He wanted to keep her. One night with her had only whetted his appetite for more. But it was so much more than sex. The hours he’d spent talking to her just made him want to peel back more of her layers. The thought of giving her back to Campbell made him so angry he couldn’t see straight. He tightened his arm, his fingers pressing gently into her hip, trying to get closer to her, only to have her stiffen in his embrace. He clenched his jaw and looked down at her profile.

  For the very first time in his life, he could imagine a future with a woman that didn’t only involve sex—and it was the wrong damn woman. Apart from her being a Campbell, there were two other very good reasons a future with her wouldn’t work out. The first was that she wasn’t his social equal. He almost laughed aloud at the thought, because he didn’t give a damn about that. Something told him she would. She wasn’t shallow and he couldn’t imagine her embracing some of the social functions and mingling with the Susanne Harrises of his world. She was every bit his equal, though. She served drinks to men like him for a living. Her stepfather was a man like him. Hell, her stepfather was a man like his own father. It wasn’t such a stretch to imagine his father might have turned out like Campbell had fortune not shined on him. Campbell was just like him, only he wasn’t polished enough, lucky enough, or s
mart enough to turn his money into an empire.

  The second reason, the important one, was that he was an outlaw. Despite how he felt for her, he couldn’t see that changing in the near future. His allegiance belonged to his brothers. Hunter would ride with them until Cas had restored his family home and found the man responsible for his grandfather’s murder. That wasn’t something he was willing to walk away from and Emmy wouldn’t want to leave one outlaw life for another. He was gone from home for weeks, sometimes months, at a time. There was always the chance he’d be seriously hurt or even killed. There was always the chance that some bastard would come looking for his woman, exactly the way he and his brothers had found Emmy. There were too many dangers to involve a woman in his life. That only left them a few stolen weeks. They’d have the next few weeks and he hoped he could convince her to share them with him before he had to let her go.

  Despite how bone tired he was from chasing her down the past week and how long she’d kept him awake last night, he grew rigid just remembering how it had felt to be buried inside her, her body soft and responsive beneath him. He grimaced again as he remembered waking up and finding her gone. For some reason, he’d imagined waking her with kisses and, if she was able, taking her again in a long, slow rhythm that would more than make up for how rough he’d been with her the first time.

 

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