by Jill Gregory
“You didn’t even get a chance to enjoy any supper.”
“Believe me, I won’t enjoy supper until I’m back in New York,” he said with a chuckle. “But that day, I hope, will be coming quite soon.”
Caitlin struggled to make polite conversation. All she wanted was to be alone. To read her letters. To try not to think about Wade.
“Your business here is almost finished, then?” she asked wearily.
“I believe so.”
“I’m sorry it wasn’t more successful.”
“That remains to be seen.”
“Oh?” For the first time, Caitlin heard not only a smile, but a note of excitement in his deep voice. “Have you acquired a ranch then for your syndicate?”
“I’m possibly very close to finalizing an acquisition. But you don’t want me to bore you with details, Caitlin. Not when you have a headache,” he said softly.
Caitlin studied him again through the starlit darkness. There was something odd about his voice. Suddenly she noticed that the terrain over which they were traveling had become quite hilly. Ahead she thought she discerned the shape of larger, darker shadows, not the open sprawling prairie.
“Drew—this isn’t the way to Cloud Ranch. We’re in the foothills,” she exclaimed. “Are you lost?”
“No, Caitlin, I have an unerring sense of direction. It’s almost as keen as my business acumen.”
“Then why are we here?” she demanded, a sense of unease taking hold, penetrating even her pain.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
“I insist that you take me to Cloud Ranch this instant.”
Drew was silent, but he whipped the horses to a faster trot, and the buggy jolted over the steep, rugged terrain.
“Drew, if you won’t take me to Cloud Ranch, take me back to the party. Turn the buggy around right now!”
“I’m afraid you’re not going to like this, Caitlin. And I’m not enjoying it much myself.” He sent the horses into a gallop and Caitlin gasped, clutching the seat. “But in the world of business, every adversary has vulnerabilities, and a good businessman doesn’t flinch at using them to his advantage.”
“What in heaven’s name are you talking about?”
“It isn’t as if you are without fault. You committed crimes. Surely you didn’t expect that you’d never have to pay for them?”
Cold dread washed over her. She fought the urge to jump out of the buggy and run. They were traveling too quickly and the ground was too rough.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she managed to say in a flat tone that hid the panic coursing through her.
He sighed. “Come now, Caitlin. Denying it will do you no good. It’s time to pay the piper. But as you will soon see, I’m giving you a chance, at least, to escape the punishment that would be meted out by the law. When all this is over, you may yet thank me.”
“I’ll thank you to take me home immediately. I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re babbling about, Drew, but whatever it is, surely it can wait until tomorrow and we can discuss it in the light of—”
The words froze in her throat at the sight of what loomed before her. Drew had just rounded a curve in the trail and straight ahead was a clearing where a campfire smoked, and two shadowy figures in the gloom of the trees watched the buggy’s approach. She saw a shotgun and the gleam of a pistol and with rising panic she struggled to make out the men’s faces.
The buggy halted at the outskirts of the camp, just beyond the fire’s glow. Suddenly one of the men stepped forward and the dying flames of the campfire cast orange light upon his black duster and black hat, and the handsome, saturnine features that had haunted her nightmares.
All of the blood drained from her face as Dominic Trent stepped forward to the side of the buggy.
“Why, Caitlin, how charming to see you again.”
His smile stretched taut across his face but never touched those chilling colorless eyes.
Somehow she managed to sit perfectly still and meet those terrifying eyes. “I’m afraid I can’t say the same. I wish I had killed you.”
The smile vanished in an instant, replaced by a feral snarl that made even Drew Raleigh beside her suck in his breath. Caitlin sat frozen, numb with fear, using every ounce of willpower she possessed to hide her terror behind a stony facade.
Dominic Trent fed on fear. She refused to nourish him.
“A confession. Thank you, Caitlin, just what I hoped for—it will seal your fate. You’ve arrived unfashionably early and Sheriff Piltson isn’t here yet, but I think Mr. Jackson and I can manage to keep you in custody until a proper lawman places you under arrest.”
He turned and addressed the other man, who waited in the shadows. “Bring those manacles of yours over here. She might look delicate, but this is a highly dangerous female. You’ll need to keep an eye on her at all times.”
The man who came forward, a set of steel manacles draped over his burly arm, looked like he’d just as soon shoot her as bother with her. He had small, mean black eyes and a sauntering arrogance to his walk. He was huge, dirty, and smelled like horse dung.
“This is Smoke Jackson. He’s a famous bounty hunter, Caitlin, and he always gets his man—or his woman, as the case may be,” Trent explained. Apparently some of the icy dread flooding through her began to show upon her face, because Trent’s self-satisfied smile widened. “Usually he brings them in dead, of course, but in this case, if I give certain instructions, you may actually make it back to Philadelphia alive. I do want you able to stand trial, you know.”
“Trial? You’re the one who should be standing trial!”
She addressed the bounty hunter. “This is the man who should be arrested. Both of these men!” She gestured toward Drew Raleigh, who sat silent beside her. “They’ve brought me here against my will.”
“Have they, now? Well, little lady, I heard a different story,” Smoke Jackson sneered. “You tried to murder Mr. Trent—and stole from him—and this other feller here helped bring you in. In these parts, that’s called justice.”
“Stole from him?” White-faced, she stared at Dominic Trent. “You despicable, cowardly liar. I struck you over the head with a candlestick to protect myself—that’s hardly a case of murder! And as for stealing, there is nothing of yours that I would ever so much as touch—”
“What’s this, then?” Suddenly Trent pulled a large emerald ring from his pocket. It shone like green flame in the firelight, its band of gold gleaming. “You remember my great-aunt Hilda’s ring, don’t you, Caitlin?” He spoke very softly. “You stole it from my home that night when I tried to propose to you. You left me for dead and ran off with this precious family heirloom.”
He shifted his gaze swiftly to the other two men. “You both saw me discover this inside Miss Summers’s reticule just now, did you not?”
Smoke Jackson spat a wad of tobacco juice into the darkness. “Sure did.”
Drew Raleigh cleared his throat. “Ahem. Yes,” he said more quietly.
She grabbed his arm. “What kind of a man are you? How can you be a part of this?”
He said nothing, just stared at her.
“How much is he paying you to frame me?” she whispered. “Don’t you see he’s a monster?”
“It’s no use, Caitlin.” His tone was sorrowful, but he could no longer meet her eyes. “Are you denying you struck him, left him for dead?”
“He was trying to rape me! To force me to become his mistress!”
“I’ve been told it was an honorable proposal and you . . . overreacted. Just as you are overreacting now.”
Drew sighed, and laid a hand on her arm. “Perhaps there is a way, however, that you can escape a jail sentence. That’s where I come in. Perhaps the sheriff and this bounty hunter can both be persuaded to let you go.”
“I don’t have money,” she said with contempt. “I can’t afford to pay you off.”
“It’s not your money I’m after, Caitlin.” Drew frowned and seemed t
o brace himself as Smoke Jackson moved suddenly, hauling Caitlin out of the buggy so abruptly she only had time to gasp.
“Need you be quite so rough?” Drew asked, perspiration shining on his face as he watched the bounty hunter snap the manacles around both of Caitlin’s wrists.
“Mr. Jackson’s tactics aren’t really your concern.” Trent spoke softly but there was an underlying edge to his voice that made Drew Raleigh swallow down any more protests. “Miss Summers is merely getting her due.”
With that, he turned to Caitlin and surveyed her up and down, his glance taking in the pale rose gown clinging to her figure, the proud lift of her chin, and best of all, the slight quiver in her delectable lower lip.
His blood heated. His pulse began to race.
He’d been waiting so long for his revenge. And now it was here—his victory almost complete.
“When Sheriff Piltson gets here, we’ll be riding out, my dear. Are you cold? You’re shivering and you seem to have lost your shawl.”
He fingered the black satin shawl that had fallen upon the wagon seat, beside her reticule. Then he let it slip through his fingers back onto the seat. “Pity. But you’ll be riding with me to our appointed meeting place. The place where your fate will be decided. So never fear, I’ll be delighted to keep you warm.”
Caitlin’s shivering was only partly a result of the cold. Hatred for this man who had tormented and hunted her tore through her. “The last time you tried to trap me you ended up the worse for it.” Her voice was low, warning. “It will be even worse for you this time. I suggest you let me go before it’s too late. I’m not alone anymore—there are people who will look for me, who will help me . . .”
“Ah, Wade Barclay, perhaps?”
The silken way Trent said Wade’s name chilled her blood.
“Yes.”
“You think your redemption will come from him?” Contempt flicked through each word. “Your ranch foreman?”
Caitlin thought of Wade’s kisses, his sense of honor, the relentless way he’d searched for Becky. “Yes,” she whispered again. But at the same time, she was afraid. She didn’t want Wade to face danger on her account. If he came after her, he’d be outnumbered three to one—and Smoke Jackson looked like a formidable opponent. Drew had once boasted to her of his shooting prowess, and Dominic Trent—well, the man was good at everything that involved evil and destruction.
If only she’d brought her derringer—but who brought a gun to a dance?
“Wade Barclay isn’t involved in this yet.” She spoke through dry lips. “Neither is anyone else—including either of his brothers. From what I’ve heard, you don’t want to tangle with the Barclay boys. So if you let me go, this can end right now.”
“But I don’t wish it to end. We’re just beginning. The fun hasn’t even started yet.” Trent pulled Caitlin against him, twined his fingers in her hair, and yanked her head back. “The question is: will Wade Barclay try to save you—or betray you?” he asked silkily.
His lips touched hers, and as she tried to recoil, he pulled her closer and kissed her again, a hard, brutal kiss that somehow made the pain in his head begin once more to throb.
Drew Raleigh, watching, shifted uncomfortably upon the wagon seat. Smoke Jackson looked on with grinning interest as Trent smiled at the woman who twisted futilely in his arms.
“Make no mistake, Caitlin, my dear. Wade Barclay is going to determine your fate, one way or another. Which way will it be—that is the only remaining question. We’ll have the answer quite soon.”
Chapter 27
“Winnifred, seen Caitlin anywhere? Or Raleigh?”
Wade had searched all through the ranch house, and had stalked back and forth along the rows of tables and chairs scattered in back of the Crooked T. Despite all the people helping themselves to plates of fried chicken, steak, and corn bread, or seated and happily devouring the repast the Tylers had prepared for their enjoyment, he hadn’t spotted a single glimpse of Caitlin anywhere.
“Can’t say that I have.” Winnifred peered about, her mouth pursed in concentration. “Why, Wade? What’s wrong? Is something the matter with Caitlin?”
“I need to find her,” he muttered and moved off toward Edna, who was bustling toward the kitchen.
“You seen Caitlin?”
“Why, yes, I caught a glimpse of her just as everyone was lining up for supper. She and Drew headed out the front door.”
Wade grimaced. “Much obliged.”
He turned before she could ask him any questions, and went back outside to find both Becky and Ina Morgensen, mother of the twins.
It didn’t take long to arrange for them to bring Becky home after supper. And Becky surprised him by smiling when he explained that he was leaving. “You’re going to see if Caitlin’s feeling all right, aren’t you, Wade?”
“Seems like someone should check on her.”
The little girl bobbed her head. “Good idea. Caitlin is always worried about me—and everything else. She needs someone to look after her.”
“She wouldn’t agree with you.”
Becky laughed. “No, I know that. But,” she added, nodding wisely, “that’s only because she’s never really had anyone to look after her before. I mean, Mama and Papa loved her, of course. They loved both of us. But they were always so busy, they didn’t really pay attention. Like the time that bad man came and hurt her—Mama and Papa were away. If it wasn’t for our groom, I don’t know what would have happened.” She bit her lip. “You’ll make sure she’s all right, won’t you, Wade?”
“Bet on it, sweetheart.”
There was a lead weight around his heart as he headed around the side of the house toward the buggy. Caitlin, so strong, so stubborn. He’d always had Reese, Clint, and Nick behind him. Not that he’d needed them all that often, but he’d known they were there if he ever needed someone to watch his back. Caitlin had never had anyone. Even when her whole world had collapsed.
And tonight—tonight, when she’d told him she loved him, he’d just stood there. Couldn’t talk, couldn’t think. Frozen like a block of ice.
And he’d let her run away. By the time the shock had worn off, and he’d come after her, she was gone.
Well, it was time for her to stop running. Hell, it was time for both of them to stop running.
From each other, from feelings that just kept squeezing out no matter how hard he tried to push them back.
Feelings like love.
Wade felt himself breaking into a sweat just thinking about that word. Love.
Did he love Caitlin? Hell, yes. Why hadn’t he faced it before now? He’d faced bucking broncs, rustlers, outlaws, and once, a bear who’d caught him unawares. He’d handled all of it with near fearless calm and a steady eye— but love had sent him skittering for cover.
Love.
Caitlin wasn’t her mother, he told himself in slow, gut-wrenching realization. And he wasn’t Reese.
He started sprinting toward the buggy that he’d left alongside some willows when suddenly he heard a heavy rustling in the brush toward his left. He tensed, a hand gliding swiftly toward the Colt at his hip. Out of the brush came two figures, brushing twigs and grass from their clothes.
“Um, howdy, uh . . . Wade.” Jake Young plopped his hat on his head and a tangle of dirt and grass tumbled down onto his broad shoulders. Beside him, Luanne Porter made a small sound resembling a strangled giggle.
Wade’s gaze swung to her. Her dress was wrinkled and she was shaking grass from her skirt. Wade couldn’t tell if her face or Jake’s was flushed a deeper shade of red.
He stared at them. Jake and Luanne?
“We were . . . uh, just looking for . . .” Luanne’s voice trailed off. She glanced desperately at Jake.
“For . . . your . . . earbob, Miss Porter. Tiny little thing,” Jake explained to Wade. “She . . . lost it.”
“Lost it.” Wade nodded. “In the brush?”
“Yep, in the brush, when she was . . .” Jake sw
allowed.
“What was that you were doing in the brush, Miss Porter?”
“I . . . I was playing hide-and-seek with the children!” she burst out triumphantly. Jake grinned with relief. Very gently he extricated a small twig from Miss Porter’s tousled curls.
“There you go, Wade. Schoolteacher. Playing hide-and-seek with the children. That was a right nice thing to do. Too bad we couldn’t find your earbob, Luanne—I mean, Miss Porter.”
“It’s on your ear, Luanne,” Wade spoke gently. He started past them, punching Jake in the shoulder as he passed. “Both of ’em. One on each ear.”
“Oh, my g-goodness, how did that happen?” Her voice quivered with laughter. Wade grinned. Then he remembered Caitlin heading home with Drew Raleigh. He quickened his steps.
“Leaving so early?” Jake called after him.
“Caitlin wasn’t feeling well. Going to check on her.”
“Yep, saw her leave with Raleigh.” Jake added, “When we were searching for the earbob. Didn’t think they were headed home though. They headed west. Wondered exactly where they—”
“West, you say?”
An icy draft shot down Wade’s spine. He spun back. “You sure about that?”
“Didn’t think much about it at the time, but . . . yep, I reckon I’m sure. They went west.”
West. Toward the foothills. What the hell was Drew Raleigh up to?
“Hey, think there’s trouble, Wade? Need any help—”
But Wade didn’t hear. He was already running toward the buggy, his mind racing with possibilities, none of them pleasant.
He had a bad feeling—and it got worse when he saw the note. It was stuck to the painted wood side of the buggy, a square paper pegged with a nail.
He snatched the fluttering page, dug in his pocket for a match and tinder, and by the meager flickering flame, he scanned the elegantly scrawled lines with mounting dread.
Barclay.
If you want to see the lovely Miss Summers alive again, come to Wolf Cave—at dawn. Come alone or the lady will die. And bring the deed to Cloud Ranch.