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Rustled

Page 4

by BJ Daniels


  Dawson suspected that the main reason they would come back for her was that they wouldn’t trust her. At least one of them, the boyfriend, would have another motive.

  But given all that, he felt they were relatively safe in the cave, at least for the time being. He’d hidden the horses around the side of the mountain and covered the opening to the cave again with the dried brush. Even if they were found, the cave was high enough on the mountainside that he could hold them off for a long time. He hadn’t brought an arsenal, but he always had extra ammunition.

  “Dawson,” she said, using his first name in a way that reminded him of melted honey and put him on guard. He’d been expecting her to make some kind of move and shouldn’t have been surprised that she’d chosen this one.

  “I don’t want to see you get killed,” she said, sweet enough to give him a toothache. “Maybe there is some way we can work this out so we both get what we want.”

  “I guess that depends on what you want,” he said, not turning around. He heard her get up and come toward him and was glad he’d tied her hands behind her back. Otherwise he’d be worried about getting his head bashed in.

  “All I need is for you to let me go.”

  “How would that get me back my cattle?” he asked, playing along.

  “Well,” she said softly right behind him. “If you just untie me…”

  JINX LOWERED HERSELF to the cave floor next to him. He glanced over at her, eyes narrowing a little as she repeated his first name, her voice dripping with sugar. She saw the male spark in his eye as she moved closer. How sad that men were so much alike, she thought, a little disappointed in this one. She thought he was too smart to let himself be seduced by her.

  She hated that she’d had to resort to such distasteful behavior, but too much was at stake. If she had to use her feminine wiles, she would.

  “Yes?” He was close enough that she caught his very masculine scent.

  She moved so her thigh brushed his. “Why don’t we be honest with each other?”

  “Why don’t we?” He pressed his thigh against hers. His leg felt warm, even through his jeans. His dark eyes locked with hers. She felt a shiver that she quickly squelched. His eyes were golden like a big cat in the firelight. He really was magnificent.

  It was the intellect in that gaze that gave her pause. She saw challenge in his eyes as well as a warning. This was a man you didn’t want to fool with.

  “Tell me what you’re really doing up here,” she said, not about to break eye contact first. He might be dangerous, but then again, he didn’t realize the kind of woman he’d crossed paths with either.

  “Checking my cattle, just like I told you.”

  He was either telling the truth or he was a damned good liar.

  She reminded herself that he could just be playing along. If he knew who she was and what she was doing on his land… “Can’t you please untie me?”

  “No.”

  “You really think I’m going to get away?”

  He smiled. “If I give you half a chance, yes.” He turned back to his cooking.

  “There wasn’t another reason you just happened to come up here?” she asked quickly.

  He turned off the stove and gave her his full attention. She found herself holding her breath. There was something about this man that scared her—especially the way he made her heart pound when he was this near, his gaze so intent on her that she feared he could see into her soul.

  “As a matter of fact, there was another reason.”

  She expected him to finally tell her that he knew who she was. That she was the reason he was here.

  “I wanted to spend a few days up in this country because I enjoy it. I thought I’d be alone. But since I’m not…” He was taunting her. Her feminine wiles were wasted on this man. “So, Jinx, what exactly are you offering?”

  “If you think I’m going to sleep with you, you’re going to be disappointed,” she snapped and slid away from him.

  He laughed. “Hell, I’m already disappointed. I thought we were being honest with each other.”

  “I should just let them kill you,” Jinx grumbled, trying to get to her feet. With her hands tied behind her, it was a struggle.

  Dawson rose abruptly, grabbed her waist and lifted her to her feet. His dark gaze bored into hers. “Now that we’re being honest, no more games. Seduction might have worked on your rustler boyfriend, but quite frankly you aren’t very good at it and anyway, you’re not my type.”

  She swore as she tried to kick him in the groin. He’d obviously expected it, because he stepped to the side, grabbing her as she lost her balance and started to fall to the cave floor.

  “Enough foreplay,” he growled as he hauled her back over to the stool and pushed her down on it. Leaning over her, his gaze fired with anger as he said, “I’m getting my cattle back and you’re going to jail, and if your boyfriend comes after you, he’s going to get himself killed.”

  Chapter Four

  Zane was too anxious to just sit around in his hotel room. He’d booked a flight to Palm Springs for the morning, but there was nothing more he could do today.

  As he rode down in the elevator to the lobby, he noticed a woman going into the bar. She was probably in her forties, alone and wearing something provocative.

  He was instantly reminded that his father had met Emma here in this hotel. What had she been doing here if she hadn’t been a guest? As he stepped into the darkness of the bar, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust before he saw the woman who had gotten him thinking.

  She had taken a stool at the bar and was now leaning toward the young male bartender, giving him a glimpse of her cleavage and asking him what he would suggest.

  “I can make you a nice mango margarita,” he said.

  She smiled. “That sounds nice.”

  Zane took a stool down the bar from the woman.

  “I’ll be right with you,” the bartender called to him.

  Looking around, he saw that the bar was fairly empty, but then again by bar time standards, it was early. There was a couple at a table toward the back, two businessmen at another table and a lone fiftysomething man at the other end of the bar who had noticed the woman. She was hard to miss.

  This was a scene Zane had seen played out many times before. Pretty soon the man would offer to buy the woman another mango margarita. She’d accept. He would move down the bar and strike up a conversation with her before taking the stool next to her.

  Is this how his father had met Emma, Zane wondered with disgust. Had she been trolling the hotel bar?

  He had a hard time believing that, given what little time he’d spent around Emma. But that was the problem. None of them actually knew Emma. That had become clear the moment he’d started looking for her. It could be that she was one of those women who kept reinventing themselves.

  The bartender came down the bar, set a cocktail napkin in front of him and asked, “What can I get you?”

  “A bottle of beer,” Zane said. “Something local would be great.”

  “Dark or light?”

  “Dark.”

  The bartender returned with a bottle of dark beer and set it down along with a frosted glass.

  “Maybe you can help me,” Zane said. He saw the bartender tense. “I’m looking for someone.”

  “Isn’t everyone?”

  “This woman,” he explained as he pulled out the snapshot of Emma taken at the ranch.

  The bartender glanced at the photo. Zane could tell he was ready to say he’d never seen the woman before, but something stopped him. He picked up the photo.

  “What about her?” he asked.

  “So she used to come in a lot?”

  The bartender laughed and glanced down the bar, apparently catching Zane’s drift. The lone drinker had skipped part of the script and had moved right in, pulling up a stool next to the woman.

  “You’re barking up the wrong tree,” the bartender said. “Emma McDougal worked here at the ho
tel, at the front desk. As far as I know, she didn’t drink.” He tossed the photo back at Zane. “She’s a nice woman. Everyone liked her. We were happy for her when we heard she’d fallen in love and gotten married. Is there any reason we shouldn’t be happy for her?”

  “I don’t know. She’s disappeared.”

  The bartender looked concerned. “And you’re looking for her because…?”

  “She’s married to my father. He’s worried about her, convinced she wouldn’t just take off.”

  “No, she wouldn’t. Unless she was forced to for some reason.” The bartender glared at Zane. “Was there some reason?”

  “My father adores her.”

  “Then you’d better find Emma, because I have a bad feeling she’s in trouble,” he said as the man down the bar ordered another mango margarita for his companion.

  JINX HID HER EMBARRASSMENT under her anger at herself for pulling such a stunt. She should have known better than to try to seduce the arrogant bastard, but she was desperate. She had to get away from him. As she watched him calmly go back to his cooking, she was all the more convinced he was toying with her. But was it because he knew who she was and why she was here?

  Or because he thought her just another rustler and he was just another rancher about to lose his cattle and his life?

  Well, if that was the case, then there was nothing she could do about it. She had tried to warn him. Now the smug cattleman was on his own.

  She swore under her breath as she saw him tilt his head as if listening. Rafe would come looking for her, she was sure of that. The man he worked for wouldn’t like there being any loose ends. The rustlers had already killed at least one rancher who got in their way on the orders of whoever was leading this gang. Even if she’d been thrown from her horse and broken her neck, Rafe would have to make sure she was dead so he could report back to his boss.

  Chisholm moved around the corner of the cave to look out the entrance. She knew he was looking toward the trees where the cattle and rustlers had disappeared. Getting up, she stepped around the corner of the cave so she could see out.

  A dusky gray light had fallen over the meadow, giving it an eerie feel. It was deceptive. She thought she saw ghostlike riders coming out of the mist only to have them evaporate before her eyes.

  A darkness had settled in the pines even though it would still be light for several hours. She was surprised Rafe hadn’t come back. Was it possible he hadn’t realized yet that she was missing? Or was he too busy making sure the cattle were taken care of first?

  Her being missing would spook all of them. Maybe they would decide to drive the cattle farther than planned.

  She shifted her focus to Dawson Chisholm. What was he planning to do with her? She hated to think.

  As he started to turn back in her direction, she quickly moved to her stool and sat down again, her mind racing. She had to find a way to hook back up with the rustlers before they became more suspicious of her.

  Dawson went back to minding the meal he was making. She felt her stomach growl. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast and the bacon he was frying smelled wonderful. Her stomach growled loudly and she saw him smile to himself as if he’d heard.

  “Apparently it’s a good thing you decided to ride up here when you did,” she said as she watched him cook. He was making some kind of dough and now dropped it into the sizzling fat. Fry bread. She groaned inwardly as the smell filled the cave.

  “Apparently it was. I’d heard about a band of rustlers operating near the Montana border down by Wyoming, but I didn’t realize they’d worked their way this far north.” So he had heard. Had he also heard about the man who’d been killed down in Wyoming, his house burned to the ground by the rustlers?

  “So how exactly did you pick my ranch?” he asked pointedly.

  “What makes you think I had anything to do with the decision?”

  He smiled. “I guess it’s just my suspicious nature.”

  “Kind of like mine. Out of all the ranches around Whitehorse, you somehow knew yours would be hit next by rustlers? Maybe you knew before I did.”

  He laughed. “If you’re insinuating that I’m somehow connected to the rustlers you’re riding with—”

  “That’s exactly what I’m thinking. Chisholm Cattle Company is family owned. Six brothers, right? All adopted.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Wouldn’t be unusual for one of the brothers to feel he was owed more than he was getting.”

  He chuckled. “You’ll play any card, won’t you? This tactic isn’t going to work any better than the others you’ve tried.” He turned the bread from the small pan onto the two strips of bacon he’d fried and folded the bread into a sandwich. He started to take a bite, but stopped as he glanced at her.

  “Hungry?” he asked, even though he knew darned well that she was.

  “No,” she snapped, but her stomach growled loudly again, giving her away.

  He laughed, pushed himself up and walked over to look down at her. He wiped the dust from a corner of the table and set down the sandwich. Then he untied her wrists, freeing one hand and tying the other to her leg.

  “You really are the least trusting man I’ve ever met,” she said as he put the sandwich into her free hand.

  “Let’s not forget that you and I only met because you were rustling my cattle.”

  She cocked her head at him. “You wouldn’t have trusted me even if we’d met at church, and you know it.”

  His gaze met hers and held it for a long moment. “You might be right about that.”

  As he walked back to the Coleman, out of the corner of his eye he watched Jinx take a bite of the sandwich. She moaned with pleasure and licked her fingers as some of the bacon grease tried to get away.

  Dawson smiled, liking her more than he had, definitely more than he wanted to, as he started more fry bread for himself. The atmosphere in the cave seemed to have warmed considerably.

  “Thank you,” she said when she’d finished eating, licking her fingers before wiping her hand on her jeans.

  “You’re welcome.” They sat around the cave in silence as he cooked and ate. He watched her, still afraid she would try to get away, but she seemed to have realized there was no way he was going to let that happen.

  The crackling flames flickered, sending long shadows over the cave walls. The scent of the pine trees mixed with the smell of bacon and fried bread. The air had cooled outside the cave. Tonight would be cold. This high in the mountains was always cold at night even in the summer months.

  He let the fire die down to hot embers as he considered the best way to get his cattle back. Making the long ride out to the ranch for help was out of the question. By then, the cattle and the rustlers would be gone.

  He had no way to contact the ranch, since even if he carried a cell phone, it wouldn’t have worked up here. Cells phones worked within only about ten miles of Whitehorse. After that, you were on your own.

  Glancing over at Jinx, he knew she was his biggest problem. His every instinct told him not to trust her an inch. This was no small rustling operation, which meant there was a lot of money involved and whoever was behind it knew way too much about the ranchers—and cattle—they were going after. That worried him.

  The rustlers he’d known hadn’t been organized. They’d acted more on impulse, often after a few beers at the bar. But then, he’d never seen as large a gang as this one. Definitely not one with a woman riding along.

  He remembered how much she’d known about the Chisholm ranch and his family. It galled him that anyone would hit Chisholm Cattle Company. He was more interested in getting his cattle back than trying to get justice, but just the fact that they’d hit his ranch made him dig his heels in. He wanted these bastards caught—including whoever was behind them.

  He didn’t doubt there was someone who was the brains of the band of rustlers who stayed behind the scenes, the man with the crooked cattle buyer contacts who financed the semitrucks and trailers needed for an operation this bi
g.

  But how was he going to get his cattle back, catch the rustlers and keep this woman from getting away?

  He studied Jinx, wondering if she had realized yet that he planned to get his cattle back—even if it meant using her to do it.

  IT WAS DARK BY THE TIME Dawson heard a sound outside the cave and moved quickly to Jinx’s side.

  “Jinx!” The word echoed faintly across the meadow. Just as she’d predicted, at least one of the rustlers had come back for her.

  “Listen,” she whispered as she glanced frantically toward the dark entrance of the cave. “We’re on the same side. I can help you.”

  “On the same side?” Dawson chuckled as he quickly reached into his pocket for his bandanna. “Sorry, but I have to do this,” he said as he used the bandanna for a gag, then tied her wrists and ankles with a length of the rope, securing it to his saddle. “If you try to get anyone’s attention outside this cave, I will do a lot more than gag you. Understood?”

  With her hands tied behind her and her ankles bound she might still be able to move, but she wouldn’t get far dragging the saddle before he came back.

  She glared at him, those blue eyes flaming with heat, as he picked up his rifle and headed for the mouth of the cave.

  The night was clear and cold at this altitude. He slipped from the cave, looking back to make sure no light escaped. It appeared pitch-black inside the opening. The brush hid even that from the meadow. Assured that no one could find the cave without knowing where it was, he made his way down the mountainside, keeping to the blackness of the trees.

  The rider had stopped in the middle of the meadow and now sat on his horse, shining his flashlight into the darkness at the edges of the trees. Could he smell the smoke in the air? Dawson didn’t think so. At least, he was counting on that.

  “Jinx!” the man called again, then seemed to sit listening.

  Dawson had stopped behind a tree and now stood stone still, waiting for the rider to make a sound before he moved closer. He knew that if he shot the rustler, the sound alone might bring the others, depending on how far they’d driven the cattle. If this man didn’t return tonight, Dawson didn’t doubt that they would come looking for him.

 

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