Captive of the Cattle Baron (Selkirk Family Ranch Book 1)

by Irene Vartanoff

  “What do you think we did?” she said, smiling with a hint of smugness.

  “Here come more strays,” Paula said, pointing down the valley. A line of cattle were being herded in their direction by a couple of ranch hands.

  “I’ll clean up all this,” Miss Betty said. “You girls best get to work.”

  They all rose, and the three young women mounted up.

  The roundup continued with many more cattle driven in by the ranch hands and Baron. He didn’t need to do the work with them, but likely it spurred the men to make their best efforts. As for Addie, the strenuous activity was welcome despite her work with Whitey. She hated being cooped up. She couldn’t ask for a bigger sky than this. The Selkirk ranch extended to the horizon in all directions.

  She and Baron seemed to be moving closer. Maybe an affair, but it felt sweeter than a mere sexual thing. Maybe they had a chance together? Maybe she could even begin to fantasize that after the trial was over she and Baron might begin an honest relationship, free of misconceptions and secrets.

  Was that possible? Or was he still hung up on Julie? If he knew about Addie’s past, would he see her for herself, or as the epitome of evil Hollywood?

  When would she get a chance to tell him about her own past? Did she even dare? Learning she’d been on a television show might get him so disgusted with her that he’d finally cave and help her get home, but they were so close now she didn’t want to risk it.

  ***

  Baron held onto his temper with difficulty. Once again, a longtime employee, Davis, was resisting Baron’s order to change a roundup tradition. The ranch hands didn’t accept that he was the boss. To them, his father still was.

  “Do it the way I told you to,” Baron said, through gritted teeth, his ire under control but his voice showing steel. Baron stared Davis down. Davis finally nodded and turned away, walking toward the corral with reluctance in every step. Baron watched, hands clenched, wanting to shove him along faster.

  Hoot Hawkins rode up on his horse, taking in the situation at a glance. “How do you want us to finish up with these stray calves, boss?” he asked.

  After Baron explained briefly, Hoot nodded and joined Davis to work with the calves.

  The old man’s tactful manner of deferring to Baron should have soothed him. Instead, Baron’s frustration increased. Davis and the others would accept what Hoot told them without argument. What would it take to get through to the crew that Baron was in charge now? He was the boss here. Why didn’t anyone do what he wanted?

  ***

  By late afternoon, the women had returned to the ranch house, gotten cleaned up, and were sitting around the kitchen table in casual clothes, having tea and cookies. Tess for once was not drinking anything harder. Baron hadn’t returned yet.

  “Turn the TV on, Miss B.,” Tess said.

  Miss Betty shot Addie a covert look. “Oh, I think it might be broken.”

  “You’re a technophobe.” Tess laughed. “Let me at that remote.” She grabbed the device from the counter and pressed the buttons. The television turned on.

  “See. No problem.” She switched channels, flipping past each quickly. “Now I can hear all the Hollywood gossip.”

  Addie cringed inside. This wouldn’t go well. Maybe she should leave the room.

  With a homing instinct, Tess found a channel with a tabloid news show. Of course the announcer was avidly describing Caz’s trial. Video from Jackson Hole played in the background.

  “The trial of hottie television superstar Caz Cassidy has Jackson Hole all excited. Caz’s trial is a spectacle like the town has never seen before.”

  Addie winced.

  “Turn that thing off,” Miss Betty said.

  Tess ignored her.

  Worse was to come. Close-ups of Caz, of course. Then pictures of Addie as a child actress with Caz, and lurid speculations about their relationship.

  “Their love affair started when they were children on Golden Days. Although Adrienne Jelleff hasn’t been seen in public, let alone in Hollywood, for years, Caz couldn’t keep away from her.”

  Baron walked into the kitchen just as the television focused on blurry recent photos of Addie.

  “Adrienne Jelleff’s unstoppable affair with Caz Cassidy drew Leslie Tone all the way from California. Tragically, Leslie was shot at the love nest where Caz continued his sizzling affair with Adrienne. Caz is being held as the shooter, although through his legal team Caz claims he is innocent.”

  “Meanwhile, Leslie Tone is still hospitalized.”

  “And what of Adrienne Jelleff, whose wild affair with Caz Cassidy caused the shooting? The trial’s outcome hinges on Adrienne Jelleff’s testimony. Will she tell the whole truth about that reckless night at her secluded home?”

  “Adrienne Jelleff is missing. She was spotted in Caz’s hotel just a few days ago, but vanished.”

  The scene changed to Addie’s own ranch. Her ranch manager, Trudy, unwillingly spoke to the reporters from the stable door. “She’s somewhere safe. That’s all I’ll tell you.”

  The tabloid announcer continued to whip up a frenzy. “The people have a right to know the truth. Where is Adrienne Jelleff hiding? Have you seen this woman? Call or text us at—”

  The photo filling the screen was blurry, but it was recognizably Addie. Everyone in the ranch kitchen turned to stare at her.

  Miss Betty snatched up the remote and shut the TV. “Now see what you done,” she said into the sudden silence.

  “You’re Adrienne Jelleff?” Tess asked.

  “I guess there wouldn’t be any point in denying it now,” she said. She couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her tone.

  “A Hollywood actress,” Baron said, in a voice of stone.

  “A former child actor. Emphasis on former,” she said.

  Tess said, “No wonder you laughed when I asked if you were poor.”

  “I’m a horse whisperer now,” Addie insisted, silently willing Baron to believe her.

  “So you claim,” Baron said. His face was rigid with disbelief.

  Tension tightened her throat. “I’m the same person I was five minutes ago.”

  In the tense silence, Paula asked, “Why are you here, instead of in Jackson Hole at the trial?”

  Addie stared at Baron, still not willing to reveal how he’d held her captive. She answered without turning. “I’m avoiding the paparazzi hell.”

  “You were hiding from tabloid reporters when you got into my vehicle?” Baron asked.

  “That’s right,” Addie said.

  “You didn’t go to the hotel for a job interview?”

  “No, I went to try to calm Caz down.”

  “Your lover.” He spat out the words.

  “Friend,” she emphasized. “Caz and I are friends.”

  “Yet when he wanted you, you came running. Despite being so sick,” Baron said, his tone flat.

  “He was worried about what the publicity would do to his career.”

  “They say there’s no such thing as bad publicity,” Tess said helpfully.

  “Caz doesn’t think so,” Addie replied, not bothering to look at her.

  “You know something the world doesn’t?” Baron demanded. “What?”

  “I’m not talking about my friendship with Caz, not even to you,” Addie replied. She begged him with her eyes to accept what she said, but the steel in his expression did not soften.

  “Not even me.”

  Baron’s tight-lipped reaction was awful. She’d prefer it if he yelled.

  “You lied to me,” he said.

  “No, I did not. I simply did not reveal all.”

  “You’re an actress.” He spat out the word.

  He might as well have called her a harlot.

  “It’s not a crime,” she said. She stood. “I can’t take any more of this right now.”

  “Come with me,” he said, in a tone that brooked no refusal. He didn’t touch her. He gestured with an inclination of his head that she was to follo
w him out the kitchen door.

  Conscious of their avid audience, she went outside with Baron. “Are you finally taking me home?” she asked, once they were in the yard.

  “No,” he said. His manner was icy.

  “Then where are we going?” She stopped with her hands on her hips, not budging.

  He picked her up and carried her to the four-wheeler by the garage. She kicked and screamed and beat on his chest. She lost her thong sandals. The other women ran out of the house and called for him to stop, but he ignored them. The usual chemistry when Baron touched her or she touched him was completely missing. He radiated hostility.

  He threw her into the four-wheeler, started it, and peeled out before she had a chance to jump. He kept up a fierce speed, slewing them dangerously as he made the turn out of the yard.

  “Slow down. You’ll crash,” she cried.

  “Put your seatbelt on,” Baron said in a hard voice. He drove the sport vehicle as if he was at the Indy 500, screeching around curves and thumping up and down on the unpaved road to the hills.

  “Take me back to the house.”

  “Don’t talk,” he commanded. “Do as I say. I won’t hurt you. You know that.”

  “Do I?” she asked. The tears she wanted to cry constricted her chest.

  Soon they were alone in the desert, still going at a speed that would make jumping out suicide. She tried to speak to him, but he ignored her. After twenty minutes, they came to the line shack. “Oh, no. Don’t you dare,” she said, angry herself. Did he think she would willingly have sex with him now?

  Baron stopped the vehicle, and hauled her into his arms again. Addie tried to fight him, but his right arm kept both of hers captive.

  “Stop struggling,” he said. He paid no attention when she tried to hit him. He carried her to the cabin and unlocked it despite her efforts to stop him. Once inside, he set her down on the wooden floor. Her bare feet registered the warmth of the desert on the planks, and their roughness.

  “Do you want me to get a gun and check for vermin again?” he asked.

  “You’re asking me?”

  “You claim you want to be away from people who bother you, that this cabin makes you feel safe. The tabloids won’t find you here. You can be as alone as you want. I’ll come get you in a week.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to be a hermit. You can’t leave me here. I don’t have a phone. I don’t have shoes, for god’s sake.”

  “You don’t need them. Do what I tell you. Stay here. You’ll be safe.”

  Addie clenched her fists, resisting the urge to sock him. She said with measured accents, “I promised to help Caz.”

  “Let your lover be convicted.”

  “Caz is not my lover.”

  “Why should I believe you? You’ve refused all along to tell me anything about your life.”

  “So listen to me now,” she said, grabbing his arm.

  He shook her hand off fiercely. “You’re another Hollywood addict, a fame addict. Like Julie.”

  “No,” she cried. “I left. I’m never going back. Not tomorrow and not ten years from now. Never.”

  His nostrils flared and his rage was visible in his eyes. “Do what I tell you, for once, instead of arguing like everyone else.”

  “Don’t leave me here, Baron. You have no right.”

  “I’m too angry to think straight,” he said. “You’ll be safe here.”

  He closed the door on her. As he locked it from the outside, she banged on the solid wood.

  “Are you crazy? Let me out. Don’t do this! Don’t!”

  His boots pounded down the steps. The four-wheeler’s motor started. She screamed at the top of her lungs. She tried to open a window but it was barred and nailed shut. Even in her frenzy, she knew better than to break the glass. She’d bloody her hands.

  After the sound of the vehicle dimmed, and she knew Baron was gone, she sank down on the floor, wailing. She rocked back and forth, crying. Her Hollywood past had destroyed her again. She cried for a long time.

  When she was only five years old, how could she or anyone have known that playing a cute kid in a television sitcom would ruin her entire adult life? Her parents were Hollywood insiders. Negotiating the treacherous waters of the entertainment industry was their daily adventure. They sank their teeth into it and enjoyed the struggle. As a child, she’d trusted her parents to make her decisions. When the show ended, when she had to make choices herself, she learned the truth about show business.

  She hated it, but she couldn’t get away from it. Every time she tried to flee, it reached out and destroyed her happiness all over again.

  She’d thought she had a chance with Baron. Yes, he was high-handed and domineering, but she could stick up for herself, and he’d never fully crossed the line. She was the one who hid in his SUV, after all. He’d only refused to take her back to what he imagined was a sordid drug addiction situation.

  When she finally convinced him she wasn’t another version of his tragic college sweetheart, she couldn’t let their passion take over. She couldn’t commit to him when she was still on shaky ground with him, more his captive than his guest. At any moment her past would catch up with her and change everything.

  She had cherished the hope it wouldn’t matter. She’d wanted to believe that Baron was the one man who would be willing to take her at face value. The one man who would see the real her, who she was today. A few minutes of sleazy tabloid television had destroyed that hope.

  What did Baron think he was doing, locking her in an isolated cabin without the means to defend or protect herself? Was he so full of rage against her, so disgusted at her that he didn’t care if she got hurt? She shuddered. He wasn’t that man, was he? Yet how could she know how far his anger would lead him? It was outrageous and crazy that he’d dragged her out to this cabin.

  She couldn’t meekly stay here for a week, and break faith with Caz. She had to escape. She couldn’t let Baron’s rage hurt her, and in doing so destroy him. She was damned if she’d let him hurt her.

  The more power he had over her, the more danger she faced. She feared for how each of them might behave at their next encounter. Their sexual chemistry was very potent, but she could not allow him to force her to give in. Nor would she use their attraction to pay for her freedom. She had to get away on her own, and save them both.

  The sun was already slanting down. She must escape this cabin while it was still daylight. The desert was too dangerous to walk at night, when she would be unable to recognize landmarks.

  She examined every inch of the cabin. The kitchen drawer held a few small paring knives. Possibly they would be enough to defend herself in hand-to-hand combat with a man, assuming she knew how to fight with a knife—which she didn’t. The knives were far too small to be useful fighting off a large animal or one of the many poisonous snakes in the desert. Which meant she was stuck in the cabin.

  No. She refused to give up.

  He’d carried her off while she was wearing a dress. No protective boots, and her thongs had fallen off back in the yard. Walking barefoot on the hot desert sand would be impossible. She didn’t have a hat, either. She couldn’t go anywhere, not through that rocky terrain, either in full daylight or at night.

  No. She wouldn’t give up.

  She managed to force one window open a little, so she could hear outside noises and get some warning. She primed the pump and readied a bucket of water to douse Baron with when he returned. If that didn’t cool him off, she had another surprise prepared. If it came to a serious struggle, maybe hot soup thrown at him would stop him. She would not let him hurt her. She stifled a sob at the thought that he might. Perhaps her imagination was working overtime. He had never physically harmed her. Nor had he threatened her. But remaining a prisoner in this cabin was intolerable.

  When she searched the cabin more thoroughly, she discovered a locked box on a top shelf. She used one of the precious knives to jimmy the lock. The blade broke, and she starte
d crying again. She wiped her tears away with a dish towel and turned the blade with the cloth. Finally, the lock yielded.

  Inside the box she found a treasure trove. Strong, thin rope. Matches. A Swiss army knife. Real survival gear.

  Except she was barefoot.

  She began the arduous task of cutting up blankets and using the rope to fashion makeshift footwear.

  Too many minutes later, she had turned the blankets into moccasins stiffened with cardboard from cartons in the pantry and threaded with rope to keep them on her feet. She’d made a rope belt to hang her tools on, and a crude backpack with bottles she’d filled with water. The remainder of the blanket she’d hacked into a rough kerchief to keep the sun off her head, although it was getting late and the sun was low in the sky. She was ready to escape.

  Now all she had to do was break out of the cabin.

  A noise came from outside. She started the soup on the stove, in case she didn’t have time to escape after all. Then she went to work on the window.

  The noise didn’t recur. She kept working. In the end, it was easy. She used a hammer and a screwdriver together to chisel out the window completely, including the frame. The bars were attached to the frame, so they went, too.

  She set the window on the floor and put the last of the blanket on the exposed wall, covering the rough spots. She grabbed her makeshift backpack, checked the ground outside for snakes, and tossed it out. She followed, carefully grasping the cabin’s frame until she could jump the last few feet.

  She hit the ground. Free. The sun hadn’t set, but there wasn’t much time to orient herself and hike to the crew’s compound. She tried to remember the exact path they’d taken only a few hours ago. The cabin was set behind a hill. She began to walk around it.

  No one had stopped Baron. His womenfolk were too intimidated. Were they all too shocked? Including herself? She hadn’t fought hard enough. She’d let him take her to that prison cell. What a fool she’d been.

  It was nearly over. The crew of ranch hands included men who had the backbone to challenge Baron over ranch procedures. Surely one of them would dare to help her. Maybe Hoot would. All she needed was one person with a vehicle, and she could leave the ranch.