Ride The Wind (Vincente 3)

by Constance O'Banyon

  Suddenly the color drained out of Earl's face. He looked almost comical with blood streaming from his ear and his teeth clenched in fear.

  Earl knew in his gut that he had no choice but to tell the stranger everything. "Why didn't you just ask me what you wanted in the first place? You didn't have to go and shoot me."

  Reese smiled, but it was not with humor; it was a smile that sent chills down Earl's spine. "It seemed the right thing to do at the time, Earl. I didn't think you'd talk until I proved to you that I am dead serious."

  Earl glanced into the cold gray eyes and quickly looked down at the ground. "If you'll put that gun down, I'll tell you 'bout the woman."

  "I have been called many names in my lifetime, Earl, but `fool' was never one of them. Now answer me this have you and Felton ever met before?"

  "No. But you know so much already, I'm sure you know that, too."

  "Where is Saber Vincente? Take me to her."

  Earl paled even more and extended his arm at an angle so the hidden derringer slid into the palm of his hand. He was fast, but not fast enough. The rifle fired, knocking him backward and slamming him to the ground.

  Earl tried to move when the stranger bent down to him, but he was paralyzed. "It's bad, ain't it?" he said with a gasped.

  "Yep. You're gut-shot, Earl. You don't have long to live. Looks like I'll be meeting with Felton in your place. I would have preferred to go after the girl, but you forced me to do it the hard way. Care to tell me where you were going to meet Felton?"

  Earl stared into the other man's clear silver eyes and shivered. "Go to hell."

  "Not today, Earl that's where you'll be going." He watched Earl's body twitch, and the man's last breath came out in a gurgled sigh.

  Reese mounted and guided his horse toward Dallas.

  Reese tried to put himself in Graham Felton's place and think as he would. What did Felton want with Miss Vincente? There was always ransom, but Felton didn't need money. Perhaps he had a grudge against the Vincente family? That was the most likely possibility. Noble Vincente had probably made many enemies over the years; men of wealth and power often did. It could be that Felton merely wanted the woman in his bed.

  Reese's only knowledge about the Vincente family was what he'd heard from other people. Noble Vincente was like a king, ruling a ranch that was larger than some countries in the world.

  Reese's lip curled in scorn. He could imagine what Saber Vincente was like: soft, beautiful, lofty, and full of her own importance. She had probably always been surrounded by servants, and didn't have to put her foot forward without someone else's help. She was exactly the kind of woman Reese had always detested. He'd met them before, even bedded them on occasion, but they had always left him cold. He wanted a woman who would think and do for herself; not some decorative ornament who needed to be pampered and coddled. That kind of woman would be just right for Matthew; in fact, Matthew was the sort of man who needed a woman of pure bloodlines, a wife he could show off to his eastern friends and say, "I own her look but don't touch."

  No matter what kind of woman she was, Miss Vincente didn't deserve what had happened to her. And he would do all in his power to get her back for Matthew.

  It was growing dark when Reese rode into Dallas. His gaze roamed lazily across the buildings as he speculated where the meeting was to take place. He knew it would be one of the saloons, but which one? There were three.

  Dallas, unlike many of the towns in Texas, had prospered after the Civil War. There was a wagon and carriage factory, a bank, and a newspaper office. Dallas was the center of the buffalo trade, and there were rumors that the railroad would soon cut through the town, bringing even more prosperity.

  Reese stopped before the Lucky Seven Saloon and stared at it for a moment-it was too crowded, too noisy. No, Felton would choose a less frequented saloon for his meeting with Earl. Now that he knew that the two men had never met face-to-face, he had the edge he needed to approach Graham Felton. If he played his part right, he just might get Matthew's woman back for him without getting himself and her killed in the bargain.

  Reese bypassed another rowdy saloon, then dismounted before the Blue Dog. He tied his horse to the hitching post and shoved open the bat-wing doors, entering the darkened interior. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the dimness. The man who was playing the tinny piano was singing off-key, and it grated on Reese's nerves. He smelled the stale tobacco smoke mixed with the unpleasant odor of unwashed flesh and the sickening aroma of cheap perfume. There were two cowboys bellied up to the bar, their arms draped around gaudily dressed women, and three men sitting at a table playing cards. He decided that none of them was Felton, although they might be his men, since they watched Reese's movements closely.

  Reese's gaze fell on a man sitting alone at a table at the back of the room, and he drew in a cautious breath. That was probably Graham Felton. With his jaw clenched firmly, Reese moved through the saloon to the solitary gentleman.

  As Reese approached, the man didn't look up or acknowledge his presence in any way, so Reese slid into the chair across from him.

  "I didn't hear anyone invite you to sit at my table."

  Reese picked up the whiskey bottle and took a deep drink before answering. "I see they serve you the good stuff."

  "It's the best. And I don't take kindly to anyone inviting himself to a drink of my private stock."

  Reese shoved the bottle back toward the man. "If you are who I think you are, you'll talk to me. I have something you want."

  Now the man did look up at him. "You'd be Earl Miller."

  Reese nodded, studying the man and looking for any indication that he was suspicious. Either Graham Felton believed him, or he was a damn good actor. Felton was in his late thirties or early forties-it was hard to tell for sure. He was of medium height and had light brown hair with gray at the temples. His eyes were such a light shade of blue that in the dimness of the saloon, they seemed colorless. His face was pockmarked, and he had a hooked nose that looked as if it had been broken more than once.

  Felton leaned back in his chair and eyed Reese with equal directness. At last he asked, "So you got the woman?"

  Reese nodded.

  "Where is she?"

  "Now, I'd be a fool to tell you that until I got my money, wouldn't I?"

  Graham's eyes flickered, then narrowed. "You'd be a fool to try and play games with me. You'll never get out of this saloon alive if you cross me. Every man you see in here, including the piano player, has been hired by me."

  Reese smiled slightly. "Now why would I want to cross you, since I went to so much trouble to come here in the first place?"

  "If you came to ask for more money, or to tell me that the woman's dead, or that either you or one of your brothers has sullied her, you are as good as dead."

  "I want her unharmed as much as you do. But I don't know why you want her so bad. What's so special about her?"

  "I don't make it a habit to explain myself to a small-thinking thief like yourself." He stubbed out his cigarette and met Reese's gaze. "Where is she?"

  "Where we agreed I'd take her."

  Graham nodded. "Las Lomas."

  Reese's brow furrowed as he mulled the name over in his mind. Las Lomas was a ghost town a hundred miles east of Fort Worth. He knew it well, since he'd once driven a herd of cattle right through the town streets.

  Felton took a drink from his glass, then shoved it away. "It's a four-day ride from Las Lomas to the border. Cross the Rio Grande at El Paso and look for the first saloon you come to when you cross the border. I know how long it'll take you to get back there from here. I'll give you two weeks from today to deliver the woman, and not a day more. After that, you'll not be able to find me I'll find you."

  Reese stood up; he had the information he'd come for. He knew where the woman was being held. "Until our next meeting," he said, tipping his hat and walking away.

  Before Reese could reach the door, Felton hurried after him, calling out in a h
arsh voice, "I don't want any harm to come to the woman. I must be the first to have her. Is that understood?"

  Reese turned to watch Felton limp toward him. He hadn't known the man limped; he'd almost missed an important detail, and that could have been disastrous. "I understand. Now, I have a condition for you. If you have any of your men follow me, you'll never see the woman alive. Is that understood?"

  Felton nodded. "At the border in two weeks. You'd better not waste time hanging around here if you're going to make it."

  Reese stepped out into the night, drawing in a cleansing breath. "Damn," he muttered as he swung into the saddle. He'd be very surprised if he found the woman unharmed. The Miller brothers probably weren't known for their gallantry toward women. He wondered if Matthew would still marry Miss Vincente if the brothers had raped her. Matthew always strove for perfection in himself and insisted on it in those around him. He'd want his wife to be perfect in every way. Reese hoped Matthew loved the woman enough to overlook her imperfections if she were less than pure when he got her back.

  Hell, if he loved a woman, and she'd been sullied by those bastards, he'd only love her more for what she had endured. But of course, he wasn't Matthew Halloway of the Halloways of Philadelphia.

  Reese's mother had left his father the year Reese turned five, and to make it worse, she'd run away with his father's best friend. Reese had watched his father try to eke out a living and keep the bank from taking the ranch. Frank Starrett had grown more bitter with each passing day and had finally died a broken man, leaving Reese to make it on his own since the age of fourteen.

  Reese had always sworn that no woman would do to him what his mother had done to his father. And he would never betray a friend the way his father's best friend had betrayed him.

  A grim expression glowed in his eyes. There was little chance the woman would come out of this as pure as she'd been when they'd kidnapped her. His heart swelled with pity for her. She didn't deserve what had happened to her, and he would rescue her or die trying!

  The weather had turned colder, and Saber lay huddled beneath the thin blanket that she'd been wrapped in when the men had kidnapped her. Although she was cold, she refused to use the wool blanket Sam had offered her because it was smelly and filthy.

  She listened to the howling wind that seeped through the cracks of the old building, rattling the windows and shaking the door, making it sound as if someone were trying to get in.

  She had lost count of the days since her abduction and had long ago given up hope of ever being rescued. She dared not think about what the future held for her. Although she continued to question Sam, he refused to tell her why she'd been kidnapped or who Graham Felton was.

  Sam appeared at her side, untying the ropes at her wrists and ankles before handing her a cup of steaming coffee. He had recently started untying her when she ate because there wasn't anyplace for her to run. "The coffee's right strong, but it's hot. It'll help warm you a bit, Miss Vincente."

  She gladly accepted the steaming offering and took a sip of the bitter brew. "What's going to happen to me, Sam?"

  He hesitated and avoided meeting her gaze. In the short time he'd known Saber Vincente, he'd grown to respect and care for her. He'd never met a woman who could touch her in looks and manners, and she was brave, too, although he knew she was scared most of the time. For the last two days he'd battled with the notion of taking her back to Fort Worth to her people. But of course, he didn't dare give in to that impulse. He'd be a dead man before he even reached the edge of Las Lomas Eugene would see to that.

  The most he was able to do was to keep Eugene away from her. At night when he bedded down, he'd position his blanket beside her bed, and so far Eugene had left her alone. But he wished Earl would get back, because he couldn't handle Eugene much longer. Every day his brother grew bolder, and his gaze never left their prisoner.

  Sam lifted the water bucket. "I'm just going to the well for fresh water. Stay put, 'cause I wouldn't want Eugene to find you wandering the streets."

  "Don't leave me alone," Saber begged, her stomach tensing into a tight knot. "What if he comes back, and I'm here alone?"

  "I'll be right close by, and I'll hear you if you call out."

  She watched Sam leave, feeling desperate and helpless. There had never been a time in her life when she had not been able to do something about her situation. Not even during the war, when the Yankees had burned her grandmother's plantation, had she been as frightened as she was now.

  Saber caught her breath when she heard the front door open. A scream formed in her throat when she saw Eugene, but she couldn't make a sound. Sam hadn't tied her up, and she wondered if she dared run for it. Could she make it to the door before he caught her?

  Eugene walked toward her, his eyes going to her breasts, which strained against her shirt. "So I have you alone at last. You gave me a lot of sleepless nights, fancy piece. But I bet I'll sleep good tonight."

  She pressed her back against the wall. "Sam will be back any minute," she said hurriedly. "He just went to the well for water."

  Eugene unfastened his gun belt and dropped it onto the table. "No. My brother won't be bothering us anytime soon. When he comes to, it'll be too late for you. You see, I kinda put him to sleep with the butt of my gun."

  "No!" she cried, looking at the door as if Sam might come through it at any moment. "I'll scream if you touch me."

  He laughed and stepped closer. "No one will hear you. Go ahead-scream all you want to."

  With a quick motion, Saber's hand tightened on the coffee cup, and she dashed the hot brew into Eugene's face. Hurling herself forward, she darted for the door while Eugene covered his eyes and screamed out in pain. She threw the door open and ran into the growing darkness. She had hoped to find Eugene's horse tied out front, but luck was against her there was no horse. He must have left it at the edge of town.

  She could hear Eugene cursing and calling to her. Fear gave wings to her feet, and she started running with no particular direction in mind. She just knew she couldn't let him catch her. Her only hope was to lose him in the dark.

  Saber had almost reached the graveyard when a man stepped in front of her. She screamed out as he grabbed her shoulders and held her in a tight grip. Saber, thinking it was Eugene and that he'd managed to work his way in front of her, swung at him with her fist. She heard a muffled sound of pain just before she drew back her leg and kicked him in a place that made him release his hold on her and double over in agony.

  She turned away and came face-to-face with Eugene! If Eugene was in front of her, then who was the man she'd just attacked?

  Eugene grabbed her arm and yanked her forward. "I'll have you, and I won't be too particular about how rough I am. I got me a score to settle with you for dousing me with that coffee."

  A deep voice spoke up from behind her. "Let her go."

  Eugene strained his eyes in the darkness. "Who in the hell are you?" he asked, reaching for his gun and realizing he'd left it back on the table.

  The stranger's hand came down heavily on Saber's shoulder, and he moved her behind him. "I'm the man who is going to kill you if you've harmed Saber Vincente in any way."

  "Who are you?" Eugene asked again.

  The man was a stranger to Saber. But if he knew who she was, perhaps he'd been sent by her brother! However, his next words dashed her hopes and made her tremble with renewed fear.

  "My name is Graham Felton. I assume you've heard of me?"

  Saber strained her eyes to see in the near darkness. She was overwhelmed by his size. He was taller even than her brother, and Noble was over six feet tall. His shoulders were broad, and his voice was deep, almost raspy. He wore a long coat, but it was pushed open so he could easily reach the holster that was strapped to his thigh. Her gaze fell on the gun, and she felt more afraid than ever. Most men in Texas wore guns, but she had a feeling this man knew how to use his better than most. She was well aware that Eugene had stepped back several paces even he was a
fraid of Graham Felton.

  "I didn't hurt her none. I was just having a little fun with her," Eugene said in a shaky voice.

  Although the stranger was a strongly built man, his grasp was gentle where he gripped Saber's wrists. He didn't have a tight hold on her, but it was secure enough that she could not pull free. She wondered if he would make her sorry that she had attacked him.

  Reese glanced down at Eugene, and his lips thinned into a hard line. It was all he could do to keep from drawing on the bastard. "Let's get her out of this cold." he said in a strained voice. "Then we'll talk."

  Eugene was suddenly contrite, trying to placate the man whose name shook him to the core. "We got a fire going back where we're holed up. It's nice and warm there."

  "Lead me to it. If you'll accompany us, Miss Vineente."

  He urged Sable along, supporting her when she stumbled. She tried to stay upright without his help, but her legs were almost useless. Any small hope she might have had of being rescued was gone. She felt the man's hand move from her wrist to her shoulder as he kept urging her forward. His touch was surprisingly gentle, but that fact brought her no comfort. This was the man who had hired the Miller brothers to kidnap her in the first place.

  She could feel in the very depths of her being that this man was to be feared much more than all three of the Miller brothers. She couldn't run; she couldn't hide. He'd come for her, and she would be forced to go with him.

  His voice was strangely gentle. "Are you all right, Miss Vincente?"

  She shoved his hand away and walked a pace in front of him. His searing touch still lingered on her bare skin, and she was disturbed by her strange reaction to him; it wasn't revulsion, like what she felt for Eugene-it was a feeling that she couldn't put a name to because she'd never experienced such a sensation.

  By the time they'd reached the hotel, Sam was there, rubbing his head where Eugene had hit him. There was relief in his eyes when he saw Saber, but it was quickly replaced by caution and distrust when the stranger entered behind her.

  Saber moved to the woodstove and held her hands out to the warmth, her eyes going to Felton. Something frightening lurked in the depths of those silver eyes, and she knew instantly that he was not a man to cross. There was a dangerous quality about the way he stood and moved, and it was reflected in the rough planes of his face. He was appraising her, and his gaze struck her like an earthquake and left her quivering with aftershocks. He was the most magnificently frightening man she'd ever seen. She knew he would be unyielding and uncompromising, and the others felt it, too. He was hard and muscled, his broad shoulders straining against his buckskin shirt as if he might burst the seams at any moment. Fear erupted into full-blown terror when he stared into her eyes.