The Bounty

by Beth Williamson

  Kiss me.

  It seemed like a moment frozen in time, as if they existed outside here and now. Nicky licked her lips as she searched Tyler’s eyes. For what, she didn’t know. His scent exuded from him like a beckoning knell. She breathed deeply, inhaling Tyler into her body, then raised her hand to his face. When her fingertips made contact with his cheek, he didn’t jerk away. He closed his eyes. Nicky would swear she felt him shudder.

  She didn’t dare take a breath. The moment was as fragile as a butterfly’s wing.

  Kiss me.

  In answer to her silent plea, Tyler’s eyes opened and he pulled her to him hard as his mouth descended on her parted lips. His body was long and muscled but curved into hers like a key in a lock. Nicky expected his lips to be as hard as the rest of him, but they were soft and demanding. His mustache tickled her cheeks, sending delightful shivers down her back. His tongue was tracing the outline of her lips.

  So sweet, so sensual. God, it was like heaven.

  Her heart was hammering against her ribcage so loudly she was sure Tyler must hear it. Uttering a small moan, she opened her mouth to his slick tongue and pressed herself against him fully, her hands probing his muscled chest. This is what she wanted, what she craved, what she needed.

  Tyler released a primitive, animal-like noise deep in his throat as his hands roamed up and down her back. One hand settled on her behind, squeezing gently. The other anchored itself in her hair. His tongue delved into the dark recesses of her mouth where no man had ever been.

  Nicky’s head was spinning as she kissed him with every fiber of her being. Every nerve ending jangled, every inch of skin sang. Her breasts felt constrained in her bindings. Her jeans felt too tight as an incredible ache between her legs intensified with the kiss. The rawness of her reaction was frightening.

  Nicky clung to Tyler for dear life as a near maelstrom swirled inside her. Never, never had she felt anything like this for a man.

  And oh, sweet Jesus, she wanted more. Her hands clutched at his shirt pulling him closer. The ridge of his arousal pressed into her mons and she clenched deep inside. She let her body take over and just feel.

  “Free my hands, Calhoun,” she said against his lips.

  He dragged his lips from hers and stepped back, getting as far from her as possible. The chain from the shackles bound them together as the two regarded each other. Both were breathing raggedly. Nicky’s cheeks were hot, and her lips felt puffy.

  Tyler wiped the moisture from his lips with the back of his hand. Nicky’s heart hiccupped at his obvious disgust.

  “You should keep your hands to yourself, Malloy. Don’t try escaping by using that tempting body of yours,” he said, his voice raw.

  She spat on the ground as well as any man.

  “How dare you? How dare you kiss me and then put the blame on me? I’m chained to you. I don’t have the key or the freedom. As for using my body…”

  Her eyes narrowed as she approached him with a stiff spine. She poked one finger at his broad chest.

  “I have never, ever used it with anybody, for anything. I am untouched, and plan on remaining that way until I get married.” She cursed the extra huskiness in her voice. It was a lie and she choked on it. “And if you ever try to kiss me again, I’ll kick you so hard your grandchildren will still be feeling it.”

  His expression remained unchanged, but a muscle jumped in his cheek. No, he sure as hell didn’t believe her. She was just about to climb into the grass and invite him to join her. Her goddamn body betrayed her. Her head told her no, but she couldn’t seem to control the rest of her.

  Angry at her own weakness, she turned quickly to her mare and reached into the saddlebag. He was on her in a flash, wrestling her hands out of the saddlebag. Nicky let out a yelp of pain as her wrists twisted in Tyler’s hands. When she let go, her book fell to the grass. Tyler stared at the book as if he’d never seen one before in his life.

  “Calhoun, what are you doing? Trying to break my arms?” He was so frigging fast and so strong, he could have broken her arms easily. She had no idea he had that kind of speed, along with his obvious brute strength. Her heart was still racing from the kiss, and this pushed her pulse up even faster. She needed time to catch her breath before Calhoun realized the effect he had on her. She could never allow him to see the power he unconsciously, or consciously, wielded against her.

  “What is this?” Tyler bent to pick up the book.

  “It’s a book. It’s got letters and words in it, in case you haven’t heard of them. Sonnets written by a man named Shakespeare. Ever hear of him?”

  Tyler thrust her book at her as he clenched and unclenched his jaw.

  “‘All men are bad, and in their badness, reign’,” Tyler said so quietly, Nicky almost didn’t hear him.

  But she did, and it about knocked her on her ass. It was part of a sonnet, a Shakespearean sonnet. “You’ve read Shakespeare?”

  He scowled at her. “What makes you think I’m an idiot?”

  “I never said you were an idiot, Calhoun. I’m just surprised you’ve read Shakespeare, even more so that you can quote from a sonnet.”

  “Same here.”

  “Oh, so now I’m an idiot?”

  “I never said you were an idiot, Malloy.” He mirrored her words with a bite to his voice that stung.

  Nicky opened her mouth to speak again, but then closed it and turned away from Tyler. Willing herself to ignore the man, and her hungry body, she patted her mare affectionately as the horse drank from the small pond, then sat herself down on the soft grass. Opening the book, she glanced up at Tyler.

  “Are we going to eat?” She shaded her eyes from the sun with her free hand. “Where’s my hat gone to?”

  ———

  Tyler could barely keep from strangling Nicky. Scooping up her hat from the ground, he threw it to her. She was acting as if nothing had just happened, as if he hadn’t just come close to fucking her in the middle of nowhere, then quoted Shakespeare to her. Son of a bitch!

  He’d never met a woman who vexed him like this one. Usually they were all fluttery and demure, or scared shitless of him, but not Nicky. Tyler shook his head to dispel his wayward thoughts. Six thousand dollars was a hell of a lot of money and no lay, no matter how good, was worth that. Not even the luscious Nicky Malloy was going to deter him from getting that money.

  After listening to Nicky chatter on the rest of the day about everything from buttons to boot heels, Tyler was at the end of his patience. When they stopped for the night, he threatened to gag her if she didn’t shut up. She shrugged and kept herself reasonably quiet, and went to sleep without a sound.

  He awoke that night, startled by a noise. He sat up quickly, surveying their makeshift camp. An owl hooted somewhere, and the drone of crickets was steady, but he heard nothing unusual in the night. Then he heard the noise again and realized it was Nicky whimpering.

  He looked down at her sleeping face, bathed in the moonlight. It was twisted in the most painful grimace Tyler had ever seen as tears ran down her cheeks from her closed eyes. He was perplexed that she was crying in her sleep. He’d never heard of such a thing, but then he’d never met anybody like her before. She was obviously cunning, resourceful, and…okay, intelligent. She always had a fresh barb ready for him, never giving an inch of her pride. And, Jesus, the woman could talk from sunup to sundown.

  “Oh, Logan,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  Tyler frowned. She was whispering another man’s name in her sleep. So what? It didn’t, shouldn’t, couldn’t matter to him.

  She whimpered again, then shivered. Tyler leaned down and pulled her blanket up, tucking it around her body. He felt his face flush with the intimacy of his gesture. Why should he care if she was cold or crying? He didn’t know why, but he knew he did. He had come to respect Nicole Malloy and was bone-deep scared that it might become more than respect if he didn’t keep his distance from his prisoner. A prisoner who was whispering another man’s
name in her dreams. That was something that shouldn’t bother Tyler in the least. And, of course, neither should that kiss.

  Chapter Seven

  The next day began gray and dreary, mirroring Nicky’s mood. Her plan to annoy Tyler with her chattering worked all too well. When he threatened to gag her yesterday, she had been frightened that he meant it. She could hardly bear to be shackled, much less gagged. As a result, familiar nightmares had plagued her sleep last night, and she was exhausted.

  They broke camp quickly and efficiently by unspoken agreement, against an ominous sky. She felt as if she hadn’t slept in years, and Tyler was his usual tight-lipped self. And it looked like it was going to rain—hard. All in all, it was a depressing day. Tyler surprised her by settling his horse closer to hers as they headed north.

  “Tell me what you’ve been doing for the past three and a half years,” he said.

  “You want to talk to me?”

  “Believe it or not, magpie,” was his only response.

  Nicky sat up straighter in the saddle, suddenly feeling more hopeful. Perhaps if she could convince him she was innocent, he wouldn’t bring her back to Cheshire. Fat chance. She scoffed at her own optimism.

  “Start whenever you want. Yesterday or three years ago.”

  “Three years ago?”

  Before she could call upon her rigid self-control, Nicky was awash with painful memories. That first afternoon when she woke, she was horrified to find dried blood all over her hands and face. She nearly scrubbed her skin raw with the sand from the creek she used to wash. It couldn’t, and didn’t, wash away the guilt. She remembered the painful days alone when she slept during the day and traveled at night. And then when she saw the boy again, what he did, she very nearly—

  Using an incredible reserve of strength, she regained her self-control and forcibly pushed aside the pain. Instead, she concentrated on convincing the bounty hunter of her innocence.

  “After I left Wyoming, I went to Nebraska for a short time. Then I drifted around for a few months, taking short jobs at local ranches. Since I grew up on a ranch, it was the only thing I knew how to do. That’s how I met Hermano. I was in Texas, heading out from the ranch I’d just quit. He was surrounded by three men who had beaten him and tied him.”

  “What did you do?”

  She shrugged. “I evened the odds. I don’t like to see anybody outnumbered or tied up like an animal.”

  “So then what?”

  “Hermano became like a surrogate brother to me. He brought me back to his valley hideout for a week or so. I found another job and moved on.”

  “And that was a few years ago? Then why were you back there in August?”

  She sighed. “When I was between jobs, Hermano’s was a safe place to be for a bit. At least, until you found me there.”

  “Just doing my job, Nicole.”

  “I know, but I can never go back there again.”

  Nicky had been at Hermano’s a few times over the last two years. After she’d freed Calhoun, she left for the last time. The sentries had let her pass—they all knew the bounty hunter was there for her, but they wouldn’t give her up. No one dared risk Hermano’s wrath. And he treated his little Roja, his red-haired gringa, as he would his own blood. To harm her would be certain death for anyone.

  “Why not?”

  “I put them all in danger. Even with Hermano, they would kill me if I went back.”

  “Right. So, what brought you to Oklahoma?”

  “I ran into Willard. He and I knew each other from a few years back at another ranch in Kansas. He got me the job as a wrangler at the Rocking R.”

  “Did they know you were a woman?”

  She shook her head. “No, just Willard. When we’d first met, he got suspicious as to why I didn’t bathe in the creek with the rest of the men, or visit the whorehouse on payday. I confessed to him about how I was trying to avenge my brother’s death and not get my neck stretched in the process.”

  “Didn’t this Willard want to turn you in for the bounty?”

  “No. I don’t think he ever really believed I was a wanted woman, but by then he was like an uncle to me and would never betray me.”

  “I can believe you’re a wanted woman.”

  Nicky glanced at Tyler. His face was a hard, emotionless mask. She wasn’t sure how to interpret his remark, so she let it pass, but damn she couldn’t help the flip that her heart decided to do.

  “Did you keep up with the rest of the men as a hired hand?”

  “Of course. I was always one of the top hands, but my specialty was cutting calves from the herd,” she stated proudly, noting the flicker of surprise in his eyes. “Didn’t know I was a real rancher’s daughter, huh?”

  “It doesn’t say much about you as a person in my file. Just what you did, and how many men have tried to catch you, without luck of course,” he answered, with the smallest smile in the corner of his mouth.

  “I’d like to find out how you caught me.”

  “I’m the best there is. I found your trail, even though it was cold and near impossible to see.” He shook his head slowly. “I have to tell you, when I first found out the bounty was for a woman, I figured it would be a week, two weeks at most to find you.” He laughed without any real humor. “That particular mistake I don’t plan to make again. I’ve learned that a woman can be harder to find than a man.”

  “Thanks, I think.”

  His glance slid over and back. “I guess you can consider that a compliment. The reason I found you in Oklahoma was because some drunken cowboy had spotted your knife. It’s pretty unique, you know. Probably shouldn’t have shown it to me.”

  Nicky grimaced. “Damn! I didn’t even remember that I had.”

  He glanced down. “It was the night you saved my life. I don’t know why you did or what would have happened if you didn’t, but all the same, you have my thanks.”

  That must have been a pretty hard thing to say. Especially to an outlaw like her. But he had.

  “You’re welcome. I think I’m pretty much regretting it now,” she said as her lips twisted. “Especially now that I know you spotted my knife and that’s how you tracked me again. Damn softhearted woman.”

  As if in answer to her sagging spirits, the first fat raindrops began to fall on them.

  “This is just wonderful,” she muttered at the gray sky.

  Within moments, the rain was a steady downpour, running in rivulets off the brim of her Stetson and down the collar of her coat. It was as if God was punishing her for what she had done, or didn’t do.

  “I think I see a barn in the distance. Let’s see if your mare can keep up with Sable.” He urged his horse into a gallop.

  Nicky automatically kept up with Tyler, the chain that bound them together clanking noisily in the rain as they flew across the prairie. She could hardly see where she was going and hoped there were no trees to hit or any fences to crash into. After ten minutes of hard riding, the rain was almost painful on her face. She could barely discern the outline of a barn as they rode up hard and fast.

  As they came closer, Nicky laughed. It was a pitiful excuse for a barn if she ever saw one. The entire structure was leaning to one side, with various boards missing like gaping tooth holes, and the grass grown up around the outside of it. At that moment, the sky truly opened up, and a torrent of rain pounded them.

  Tyler pulled his horse to a stop and dismounted simultaneously. He quickly removed the shackles and yanked Nicky down from her horse. Holding onto her arm with his right hand, and the horses’ reins with his left, he was left with no other choice but to use his foot to open the curiously crooked barn door. With a mighty kick, it moved a few inches. Nicky chuckled.

  Frowning, Tyler gave an even mightier kick, and the door opened a few more inches. Nicky guffawed.

  Tyler gave one last try with a manly grunt and the door swung all the way open. Nicky was still chortling as they entered the barn, the horses in tow.

  “I don’t see
anything funny about drowning out there,” he growled at her. “Tend to your horse.” He removed her shackles and dropped them to the dusty floor.

  “Her name is Juliet.”

  “Shakespeare, again.” He snorted. “Figures.”

  She smiled as she turned to wipe Juliet down with some straw, and an ear-popping crack of thunder split the sky, followed immediately by a blinding flash of light. Tyler was watching her. A wicked grin spread across his handsome face.

  “You’re not scared are you, Nicole?” he drawled as he wiped down Sable.

  “Don’t be an idiot.” She kept her back to him.

  The next crack of thunder was even louder, making the hard-packed dirt beneath their feet rumble. When the next bolt of lightning lit up the sky, Nicky yelped.

  “You’re scared of a thunder and lightning storm, magpie? You? Fearless ranch hand and outlaw?”

  That, as they say, was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Fury bubbled up inside her like a fire burning out of control. Nicky turned and with a scream hurled her body at him. They landed on the ground heavily.

  “Jesus Christ, woman!”

  “No more, no more, no more!” She pummeled his chest with her hard fists.

  “Nicole,” he bellowed, grabbing hold of her wrists in a punishing grip. “Stop it.”

  She halted in mid-swing, surprised by the depth of her rage. Wondering why it was all directed at this man. She stared at him with regret and confusion. Releasing her wrists, he sat up and wrapped his arms around her, snuggling her like a small child. She was shivering with fear, cold, and countless unnamed demons. Holding her closely, Tyler stroked her back.

  Nicky opened her mouth and words just started tumbling out.

  “Logan was always there for me when a storm came. We’d usually play a game or read. Poems were my favorite. He used to tease me that I was a cat afraid of a little water,” she whispered against his chest. “But he didn’t know the real reason. He never knew because I begged my parents not to tell him. I grew up on the ranch next to Owen Hoffman’s. Our families were usually friendly-like, and we all knew each other. When I was five, Owen locked me in an abandoned root cellar during a violent thunderstorm—his idea of a practical joke. It was a very leaky root cellar, which is why it was abandoned. I huddled in a corner listening to the storm scream around me like a banshee searching for a fresh meal of little girl. My brother Ray finally found me.”