Stolen Away (Hearts of Montana)

by Jennie Marts

  Leroy slammed his fist against the kitchen table. “Shut up, Earl. I’m glad he’s here. I’ve got a thing or two I want to say to him.”

  “Don’t mess with him, Leroy.” Junior rubbed the side of his leg where Cash had kicked him the night before. “He’s one tough bastard. Let’s just get out of here.”

  Leroy leaned down, his voice threatening as he spat the words, “I’m one tough bastard, too.”

  “I’m with Junior, let’s just get out of here,” Earl said. “We can leave her here, and slip out the back door. She’s the only thing Walker wants anyway. If he has her, he won’t bother coming after us.”

  “He’s right,” Emma said, her voice pleading as she tried to convince Leroy. “Just leave me here. I’ll only slow you down anyway. Now’s your chance to escape.”

  Leroy turned on her, anger flashing in his eyes. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? If we just left you here for your new boyfriend. Oh wait, you were just thinking of us, right? How nice of you.” He crossed the room, bore down on her, his fist raised. “We’ll see how this Walker guy likes you when your pretty little face is bashed in.”

  She cringed, pressing her back against the sofa, preparing herself for the blow.

  Instead, the front door crashed in, banging against the wall—startling them all—as Cash charged into the room.

  Chapter Twenty

  Cash burst into the room, his adrenaline racing and his blood pounding in his ears. He’d seen Earl’s car in the driveway and prayed he’d find Emma inside.

  His gaze darted around the room, seeing everything at once—Earl standing guard at the door, Junior sitting like a lump at the kitchen table, Emma bound on the sofa, and Leroy standing over her, his fist raised.

  “Get the hell away from her,” he said.

  Dried blood covered the side of Emma’s head and streaked down her cheek. Seeing her scared and hurt only fueled his rage, and he wanted to tear Leroy from limb to limb.

  “You can’t just break in to our house. You’re trespassing.” Earl sneered as he rushed forward. “And that gives me the right to defend my home and kick your ass.”

  “I can’t wait for you to try,” Cash told him as he quickly assessed his surroundings. The scarcely furnished room offered little in the way of weapons.

  Earl came at him, and Cash kicked out, his boot heel connecting with the other man’s kneecap. Earl went down, howling and clutching his knee.

  Grabbing the lamp from the nearest side table and ripping the cord from the wall, Cash whacked Earl over the head with it. With a guttural cry, he crumpled to the floor.

  Leroy took a step toward him, but Emma stretched out her leg and tripped him. He fell forward, landing on the coffee table, the cheap material breaking under his fall.

  With a banshee scream, she kicked out at his fallen form as he tried to crawl away from her.

  Cash rushed forward, grabbing Leroy by the collar and slamming a roundhouse punch into his face.

  Leroy moaned in pain, holding his cheek, as he skittered backward.

  Cash took one glance at Junior, who still sat at the table, his mouth hanging open and a half of a sandwich clutched in his hand. “You just stay where you are, Junior.”

  The other man must have remembered the beating he’d received from Cash the night before, because he nodded and stayed seated at the table, his focus returning to his sandwich.

  “Don’t listen to him, you lard-ass,” Leroy yelled at his brother. “Get up and help me.”

  “No way, man.” Junior shook his head. “This was your dumb idea to bring her here. All I wanted to do was go to Canada and see that big waterfall.”

  Cash crossed the room to Emma, pulling her up from the sofa and turning her so he could free her hands.

  The tape was partially cut through. She must have been working on it the whole time she’d been bound.

  “Good girl. You almost had yourself loose.” He ripped the tape the rest of the way, and she shook out her hands, spreading her fingers to get the feeling back into them. “Although I’m not sure what you were gonna do if you got free.”

  “I was gonna do this.” She stepped forward to where Leroy was cowered against the wall. Blood ran out his nose from where Cash had punched him in the face.

  Grabbing an empty beer bottle from the end table, she swung it, trying to crack it across Leroy’s head. “Don’t you ever touch me again, you worthless piece of shit.”

  Before she could make contact, Leroy’s hand shot out, catching her jaw in an awkward hit that sent her head reeling sideways.

  That was it. Cash couldn’t take it.

  The fury exploded inside of him at seeing this man hurt the woman he loved.

  He grabbed for Emma and pushed her behind him. “She said ‘don’t ever touch her again,’ you little maggot.” Crushing his boot down on Leroy’s leg, he held him in place while he pulled him up by his shirt collar and pummeled his face with several punches.

  The sound of sirens filled the air, and blue and red lights flashed through the room as the sheriff’s cars sped into the driveway.

  Cash shoved Leroy away from him, releasing his shirt and taking a step back. His breath came hard and fast as the adrenaline raced through his system.

  He reached for Emma, pulling her against him in a tight hug. He wasn’t ever planning to let her go again.

  The front door stood open, and Taylor rushed into the room, his gun drawn. Two deputies followed behind him, weapons raised.

  Junior dropped his sandwich and raised his hands. “I didn’t do nothing. I was just sitting here eating supper.”

  One deputy stepped forward to cuff Junior while the other rushed over to Leroy to handcuff him.

  Taylor crossed to Emma and Cash, his gaze obviously taking in her battered face. “You okay, Em?”

  She nodded, a dazed look still in her eyes. “I’m okay.” She looked up at Cash, her arms still circling around his waist. “How did you know to come after me?”

  “I showed up at your dad’s place planning to apologize and beg your forgiveness and found the house wrecked and blood in the kitchen. Then Taylor called me and told me that Leroy had escaped from the prison transport, and I figured these idiots would bring you here. So, I got here as fast as I could.”

  “Which, if I seem to recall correctly, was exactly what I told you not to do,” Taylor said.

  “Well, you should know by now that I’m not very good at following directions.”

  The deputy hauled Leroy to his feet. “You want us to take these two out to the car, Sheriff?”

  Two? Wait.

  Where the hell was Earl?

  Cash scanned the living room and kitchen area. The spot on the floor where Earl had been previously passed out was empty. “Where’s Earl?”

  “Earl? I don’t know. We didn’t see him.”

  “He was here a few minutes ago. He was passed out on the floor.” Cash let go of Emma and ran to the front door, squinting into the dark as he peered across the yard. “The little weasel must have heard the sirens and got away. He was here, though. He was part of this.”

  Emma nodded. “He was here. And he was bragging earlier how breaking Leroy out of prison had been his idea and how he’d been driving when he crashed into the prison van.”

  Taylor leaned down, speaking into the radio clipped to his shoulder. “I need an APB issued for Earl Purvis. White male, about six foot tall, two hundred pounds, dark hair. Last seen wearing—” He glanced at Emma for a description.

  “Um, jeans and a green T-shirt,” she said.

  “Green with a little blood on it,” mumbled Cash.

  The deputies took Junior and Leroy out to secure them in the back of Taylor’s car.

  Emma and Cash spent the next thirty minutes going over the details of the night and filling Taylor in on what had happened. They sat next to each other on the dingy sofa, Cash keeping his arm around her shoulder the whole time.

  He couldn’t stop touching her. He’d been so afrai
d that something had happened to her or that he wouldn’t get there in time to save her. Gratitude rushed through him that, despite a few bruises and cuts, she was still relatively okay.

  Taylor shut his notebook and stuffed it and the pen into his front breast pocket. “I think that’s about it for tonight. If you think of anything else, let me know, but I don’t reckon there’s anything else for you to do here. You all might as well head on home.”

  They stood, and Cash shook his friend’s hand, and Emma gave Taylor a hug.

  “You taking her back to her dad’s place?” Taylor asked.

  Cash answered before Emma could say a word. “No, I’ll bring her home with me. We’ll be at Tucked Away if you need us.”

  Taylor nodded. “All right then. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Wrapping an arm around her waist, Cash guided Emma out the front door and down the porch steps.

  As they neared the truck, she turned to him. “Thanks for being here tonight. It means everything that you came for me.”

  “Of course.”

  She leaned back against the side of the truck, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at him. “Now I believe I heard you mention something about an apology and you planning to beg for some forgiveness?”

  He grinned. “Yeah, I believe I did mention something to that effect.” He touched her cheek. “I’m sorry, Em. I was an idiot. It’s not the first time it’s happened, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. But I screwed up, and I apologize. And I hope you’ll give me the chance to make it up to you.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “Believe it or not, it was a visit from my mom. We had a long talk, and she set me straight about a lot of things. We talked about the stuff that happened back then, and a lot of it was what we probably should have talked about before now. She made sense to me and gave me a different way of looking at things. Including the way I was keeping myself away from you for fear of hurting you.”

  “Did you tell her that I’m not scared of you?”

  “I did. And I want to believe you. But the fact is, I saw the look on your face. You were afraid of me.”

  “I was afraid, yes, I’ll give you that. And my face probably reflected that. But that would have just been my gut reaction. I’ve had a lot of years of being afraid, and that doesn’t just go away. You’ve got to give me a little leeway—it was a scary situation—I think anyone would be at least a little afraid. I’ve spent a long time being afraid—of everything. I need you to be patient with me, and give me some time to work through that. Can you do that? Be patient with me?”

  He nodded, pulling her against him, his heart filling with joy that she still wanted to try to make things work with him. “I can give you all the time you need. Patience is something I’ve got plenty of. And I can wait until you’re ready for a relationship with me. I’ve been waiting for you my whole life—I’m not about to give up now.”

  She grinned at him, and the sight of her smiling face made him so happy.

  Tipping up on her toes, she circled her hands around his neck and pressed her lips to his. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, capturing her mouth.

  His emotions were going crazy, and he clutched her back to keep his hands from shaking. An intense sensation of love, mixed with a bone-deep feeling of relief, ran through him as he accepted that they were going to be okay. That she still wanted him.

  He hadn’t blown it.

  Shots of desire darted up his spine as her tongue pressed between his lips. She tasted sweet and warm and felt so damn good. He needed to get her home. And into his bed.

  Into their bed.

  He pulled back, his breath ragged as he whispered, “Come home with me?”

  “Yes. Yes. A million times yes.”

  He chuckled and reached for the truck door. “I brought a little something along to sweeten the deal, if you wouldn’t have so graciously accepted my apology.”

  Opening the door, he revealed the crate sitting on the floor of the truck. The dome light in the cab gave off just enough brightness to illuminate the little gray kitten curled up and sleeping peacefully on the blanket inside the crate.

  “Oh, it’s Percy,” Emma squealed, her hands reaching for her face. She lifted the crate into the seat and climbed in next to it.

  “I asked Charlie if I could give him to you, and she said he already belonged to you. So if you want him, he’s yours.” The similarity to how he felt about his own heart wasn’t lost on him. He picked up her hand and laid a soft kiss on her palm. “And the same goes with this cowboy’s heart. It belongs to you, darlin’, plain and simple. So if you want him, he’s yours, too.”

  “I do. Yes, I do want him. Want you.” She laughed as she stumbled over her words. “I want both of you.”

  “Good, then let’s go home.” He shut the door and crossed to the other side of the truck. By the time he slid into the driver’s seat, Emma had opened the door of the crate, removed the little kitten, and cuddled it to her chest.

  He smiled at her and was surprised to see tears on her cheeks. “Hey, now. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’m just so happy.” She squeezed the furball against her. “I’ve never had my own pet before.”

  Cash headed out of the driveway, leaving the Purvis farm in the dust. He squeezed Emma’s leg and offered her one of his most charming grins. “I sure hope you’re talking about the cat.”

  She laughed, and the sound was music to his ears.

  …

  Emma walked into the cabin, the kitten curled up and asleep in her arms.

  Even though it had only been one day, it felt like it had been so long since she’d been here. Although, it had been one hell of a long day.

  She should be exhausted—but she wasn’t—instead, she felt exhilarated, full of energy. Unused to the feeling, she was fairly certain that she recognized it as happiness. Pure clean untainted happiness.

  The man who was the main source of that happiness walked into the cabin behind her, stopping to stomp the dirt off his boots before he toed them off and left them in a heap by the door.

  Her mouth went dry at the sight of him. He was one damn sexy cowboy. And he was hers.

  He’d just offered her his heart, along with a kitten.

  How could she resist?

  She set the kitten in its favorite spot, nestled in the pillows on the sofa, and turned to Cash. “Are you hungry? You want me to make you a sandwich or something?”

  His eyes darkened with desire. “I’m hungry, but not for a sandwich. I think I’m more in the mood for the ‘or something’.”

  “I think I can be persuaded into a little ‘or something’.”

  He stepped closer and slid his hand under the back of her shirt, caressing her skin above the waistband of her jeans and sending delicious shivers of need up her spine.

  Leaning down, his breath warm against her ear, his voice husky as he said, “I don’t want to push you, but I’d sure like to have you sleepin’ in my bed with me tonight.”

  She grinned up at him, feeling flirty as she batted her lashes. “But I didn’t bring any pajamas.”

  “You won’t need any pajamas tonight. Or ever, if I have any say in the matter.” He reached down, slipping his hands behind her knees, and lifted her up. Cradling her against him, he carried her to his bed and laid her gently on the mattress.

  He pulled off her shoes and socks, then unzipped her pants and peeled them down her legs. Stepping back, he tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. Repeating his actions, she pulled her T-shirt over her head and dropped it by the bed.

  Her heart raced as she reached behind her back and released the clasp on her bra. Peeling the straps down her arms, she let it fall, then lay back against the pillows so she could watch him undress.

  She’d never felt so brazen, leaning against the pillows wearing only her panties. But Cash made her feel beautiful and sexy and alive.

  Yes—alive—like every nerve in her body was tingli
ng with anticipation.

  Keeping his dark gaze on her, he shimmied out of his jeans and left them in a pile as he crawled onto the bed next to her.

  They hadn’t turned on the light in the bedroom, but the lamp shining in the living room brought in just enough light to see the expression on his face, while still being dim enough to mask the imperfections of her body.

  And to highlight the perfection of his.

  His chest was so toned and muscled, his pecs solid and hard. And they weren’t all that was hard, as evidenced by the thick bulge in his white boxer briefs.

  Her skin prickled with eagerness, every part of her craving his touch as his body molded against hers.

  Running his fingers from her neck down to her middle sent delicious rivers of desire coursing through her, and she shivered.

  “You cold?” he asked, pulling his hand away to reach for the blanket.

  She reached for his hand and set it back on her stomach. “No. I’m not cold. I’m practically burning up. I feel like I’m on fire from the inside out, and every place you touch brings that fire to the surface.”

  He barely lifted his hand and arched an eyebrow at her. “Is that a good thing?”

  “Yes, that’s a good thing.” She caught her breath as he set his hand back down and skimmed it up to cup her breast. “That’s a really good thing.”

  Her nipple was pebbled and taut as he circled it with his fingertip then dipped his head to draw it between his lips. His mouth was wet and warm, and desire shot through her like a flame.

  “How about this?” he asked, pulling slightly back and teasing her nipple with just his tongue. “Is this a good thing?”

  “Uh-huh, that’s good, too,” she whispered as her hands gripped the comforter beneath her.

  He trailed his fingers lightly down her skin, skimming her stomach, her waist, then slid his hand inside her panties.

  She gasped at his touch, his long fingers finding her warm center, and she thought she might melt into the mattress. His mouth found her breast again, and he drew her nipple back between his lips, his teeth gently grazing the tip.

  Arching her back, she offered herself to him. Offered her body, her heart, her soul. Everything was his—his to claim and explore, to touch and tease.