McKinnon's Bride (Willow Grove, Texas Series Book 1)

by Sharon Gillenwater

  Thank You, God. Jessie felt the man holding her relax slightly.

  “Good. Go tie her up.”

  “What’ll I use, Mr. Starr?”

  “There’s some rope on the end of the porch.”

  Jessie glanced at the long, heavy cord that had become one of Brad’s favorite toys. He roped chairs and stumps and Ellie if she stood still long enough. He used it to learn knots or as a leash for Will’s dog on those rare occasions the animal agreed to it. Just yesterday, he had hogtied one of the neighborhood boys when he was the outlaw and Brad was the new deputy.

  Now it would be used to bind the hands and feet of the dear woman who was like a grandmother to him. Why couldn’t she have stayed in bed another hour like she usually did? Jessie whimpered in anguish, and the pressure of the man’s fingers eased against her mouth.

  “If you’ll stay quiet, I’ll move my hand. If you make any noise and those kids come down here, it’ll be your fault they get hurt.”

  Jessie nodded. He lifted his hand from her mouth, and she dragged in a deep breath. Instinctively, she took a step toward the kitchen, and he grabbed her around the waist, holding her back. “Stay still,” he ordered curtly. “Ira, cut off a piece of rope and tie Mrs. Monroe’s hands first.”

  When the other man approached with the rope, Starr eased back, keeping the knife close to her side but not touching her. “Put your hands behind your back.”

  She obeyed, a strange calm creeping over her mind and body as she felt the cord wrapped around her wrists and tied securely. Nola was stronger than she looked. She’ll be all right. She has to be.

  Was Doolin behind this? Did he think Cade would help him escape? Or maybe it was a way to try to keep Quint from testifying against him. But if he went free, wouldn’t the sheriff simply turn around and arrest him for kidnapping?

  “Use a cup towel or something to gag the old woman. Make sure her nose is clear so she can breathe.” Starr griped Jessie’s arm. “We’re leavin’. You can catch up to us like we planned. Remember to ride out slow.”

  Ira nodded and whispered, “The old lady ain’t gonna die, is she?”

  “Probably not. It takes more than that to kill somebody, unless she’s already sick or something.”

  Which she wasn’t. Jessie prayed desperately that he was right.

  He half-dragged her across the back yard. Pulling against him caused the cut on her side to ache. When she felt a wider area of her dress grow warm and sticky, she realized her resistance was only making it bleed more. She gave up trying to slow him down. Walking round behind the storeroom, she was surprised to find a horse and buggy waiting. It wasn’t nice enough to be Doolin’s, but she doubted he would use his own personal conveyance to have someone kidnapped.

  Hurrying, the man put his hands around her waist and lifted her into the buggy. Jessie gasped in pain. When he released her, he stared at the blood on his hand for a second, then looked at her side, muttering under his breath.

  Wincing, she eased back against the seat.

  He bent closer to inspect the cut through the tear in her dress. “It doesn’t look too bad. Should scab over pretty quick.” He straightened and walked around to the other side of the buggy, disappearing briefly as the top of the buggy hid him from her view.

  He ducked to keep from hitting his head when he climbed in. He took up more space than she had expected. His shoulder and thigh touched hers even with her wedged against the side of the buggy. Would she be able to protect herself against him? He was much larger and stronger than her husband had been. And with her hands tied.... Swift, sudden fear took hold. The thudding of her heart and blood rushing through her ears overshadowed the songs of the birds and the creak of the buggy when it moved.

  Don’t give in to it! Lord, help me keep my wits.

  Breathing deeply, she told herself to focus on what was happening now, not imagining what might happen. “Everyone in town knows I’m engaged to Cade McKinnon. They’re going to wonder why I’m with you.” At the slight quiver in her voice, she caught her lip between her teeth.

  He guided the horse down the overgrown path called an alley and turned on the next street. “Probably won’t be anybody out this early anyway. If we do run into someone, you just nod polite-like. Keep your head back, and they likely won’t even see you.”

  He withdrew a Colt .45 from the holster on his right thigh and stuck it beside him on the left side against the buggy. “Don’t give me a reason to hurt anyone.”

  “I won’t.” She cleared her throat. “Why are you doing this?”

  He hesitated for a moment. “I have my reasons.”

  “Money?”

  “Partly.”

  Jessie studied his profile. He was a handsome man, though a day’s worth of stubble darkened his face. He wore a clean white shirt, black suit, cream-colored Stetson, and black cowboy boots. Just like any of the ranchers who came to town on business or attended church on Sunday. But she doubted he’d ever been to church. He didn’t strike her as a rancher, either.

  His calm air of self-assurance reminded her of Cade, a man in control of himself and the situation. But there was a hardness about him, an alertness that told her he lived with danger. Right in the middle of it. He was no rustler. If he were, he would be their leader, not Doolin.

  “Does it have to do with Doolin?”

  “Let’s wait until we’re out of town to have a chat.” Though the words were polite, it was an order.

  Jessie kept quiet, searching both sides of the streets and the houses they passed, hoping someone would notice her in the buggy. He made several turns, finally onto the street Jessie recognized as the same road Cade had taken out of town when they drove out to Rabbit Hollow Creek. They soon lost sight of the last building, and he urged the horse to a quicker pace. She hadn’t seen another soul.

  “Did Doolin hire you to kidnap me? To somehow keep him from going to prison?”

  “That’s right.” A faint smile touched his mouth. “I’m supposed to tidy things up.”

  Lord, have mercy, he’s a gunslinger. Jessie had never seen one, but that’s what he had to be. Not the kind out to make a name for himself, either. He had too much cool confidence for that. Was he going to kill Quint? Use her as bait? “What do you mean?”

  “Everyone besides your brother is too afraid of Doolin to testify against him. If they help put him in Huntsville, he’ll make sure they’re dead within six months.”

  “Not if the judge sends either him or the others to Rusk Penitentiary.” When he glanced at her with a raised brow, she added, “The new prison isn’t far from where we lived in East Texas.”

  “Doolin is betting they won’t risk the possibility of winding up where he is. If Webb says he made a mistake, that Doolin wasn’t involved, then he’ll go free. We’ll let you go, too, but by the time you wander back to town, we’ll be almost to Mexico. There won’t be any evidence to tie Doolin to your kidnapping or to the rustlers. Nor anyone who can prove he was involved with either one.”

  “Cade and Quint will look for me. The sheriff, too.”

  “More than likely.”

  She took a deep breath. “Are you going to kill my brother?”

  “Don’t plan to. Of course, if he starts shooting at me, that changes things.” His nonchalant answer made Jessie’s skin crawl. “But they won’t find us. We have a good hiding spot all picked out.” His gaze swept over her, and Jessie held her breath. “Has a dugout with a bed. I even brought some clean sheets.”

  She swallowed hard, looking away. It wouldn’t be wise to make him angry, though she wanted to tell him he could burn the sheets. And the bed. Especially the bed.

  Neither of them said anything for awhile. Jessie noted that they passed the place where Cade had turned to go to the creek. She tried to keep track of the landmarks. “What happens if Quint testifies against Doolin?”

  He looked at her, the cold hardness in his eyes making her shiver. “I’m supposed to kill you.”

  About two ho
urs later, she shivered again. This time it wasn’t from fear, but from being chilled, too chilled for a summer morning. “I’m feeling lightheaded. You’d better take a look at that cut.”

  He glanced at her, his eyes narrowing, and drew the horse to a halt. Climbing out of the buggy, he slid his gun back into the holster. She noticed he wore one on the left side, too. He walked to the back of the vehicle and stopped for a minute, digging through in the small boot. When he came around to her side, he unscrewed the lid of a canteen and held it up to her mouth. “Have some water.”

  Jessie welcomed the cool water, taking a long drink. When he lowered the canteen, she tried to dry her chin on her shoulder.

  He wiped away the last bit of water with his hand, his touch surprisingly gentle, and studied her face. “Can you stand up?”

  “I think so. I’m a little weak.”

  “I can’t see good enough where you are. And you’ll be warmer in the sunshine.” He hooked the canteen strap over his shoulder. Taking hold of both arms, he pulled her forward on the seat, then gripped her left arm as she stepped from the buggy. The horse moved restlessly, rolling the vehicle forward, then back. “Sit over here.” He helped her to a spot in the grass a couple of yards away, holding onto her until after she sat down.

  He knelt beside her and laid the canteen on the ground. Studying her side, he took the knife out of its sheath. “It bled more than I thought it would. I need a better look at the wound. I’m going to cut the cloth a little more. Don’t move.”

  Jessie held her breath as he pulled the blood-matted material away from her skin, making her flinch. He carefully eased the tip of the knife through the rip, cutting it farther. Peeling the cloth back, he took a clean white handkerchief from his pocket and poured water on it from the canteen. After gently washing the injury, he examined it more closely.

  “It’s not deep, but longer than I thought, a little over an inch. We’ve been traveling fast. I expect all the bouncing on the road is making it bleed.” He straightened, meeting her gaze. “I’ll have to cut a strip off your skirt for a bandage. Don’t have anything else.”

  “Go ahead. It’s ruined anyway.”

  “Not much of a loss,” he muttered, lifting the hem of her skirt and easily making a cut with the knife. No wonder it had sliced her. “You’d think a rich man like McKinnon would dress his woman better.”

  “I was going to clean house today.”

  “So you’re practical as well as pretty.” He put the knife away and ripped a long strip from the hem of her dress until he reached the part she was sitting on. “Bend your knees.”

  She hesitated, and he frowned at her. “Now. I don’t have time for nonsense.”

  Then she ought to delay him as long as she could, but judging from the angry flash in his eyes, that wouldn’t be a good idea. She bent her knees, resting the souls of her shoes on the ground. When he reached beneath her legs for the strip of cloth, the back of his hand brushed her calf. She held her breath and noticed a muscle tighten in his jaw.

  He ripped the material, the side of his hand touching her leg a couple of times, once on the calf and once on the thigh. She couldn’t tell if he did it on purpose or if it was merely due to lack of space. She swung her knees away from him. The instant his hand was out from under her legs, she straightened them, flattening them against the ground. “No nonsense, remember?”

  “I heard you had grit,” he said with a tiny smile. He tore the cloth loose, cutting off a short, crooked piece to make a straight edge. Next, he cut off about a foot of it, folding it into a thick pad. His mouth twisted thoughtfully, and he laid the bandage on her lap. Using the little piece with the ragged edge to blot the wound, he leaned closer, passing the long strip of cloth around her, with the ends meeting about six inches in front of the cut. “Lie down on your left side so the bandage will stay in place while I tie this.”

  “If you freed my hands, I could hold it in place.”

  “You could. But you’d probably do something foolish like try to get away. And you might get hurt.” He nodded toward her side. “I don’t like to see women hurt.”

  “Then why did you hold a knife against me?” She glared at him, biting back a sudden swell of angry words.

  He sighed heavily. “Just lie down and cooperate before someone comes along and things get more complicated.” Gripping her arm, he pulled her down, not giving her any choice. He placed the bandage over the wound and brought the strip of material over it, tying it in place. “Too tight?”

  “It’s all right.”

  “Good.” He pulled her up to a sitting position. “Are you still cold?”

  “Yes, but not as bad as before.”

  He removed his jacket and draped it around her shoulders.

  Jessie didn’t know what to think about him. One minute she felt threatened, the next protected. Maybe he was trying to confuse her. If so, he was doing a good job of it.

  He picked up the canteen, holding it by the strap and helped her up. He didn’t seem to notice the bloody handkerchief lying in the grass. Or the little scrap of her dress near it, the one he had used to blot the wound. She quickly looked away. Cade had told enough tales about tracking outlaws that she knew anything out of the ordinary would catch his attention. She only hoped he could recognize that little piece of cloth as part of her dress.

  Starr helped her into the buggy, surprising her again when he leaned inside and straightened the back of the coat when it bunched up against the seat. He pulled the lapels together and buttoned it. “Let me know if you get too warm.”

  She nodded, bemused by his kindness.

  Not long after they started up again, Ira joined them. Starr slowed the horse to a walk as the other man rode along beside them. “How did it go?”

  “I tied her hands and feet so she couldn’t get up. She was starting to come around about the time I left.”

  Thank goodness. Jessie breathed a silent sigh of relief.

  “Did you ride out to the west and work your way around to this road like we planned?”

  Ira’s eyes widened. “I was so scared, I plumb forgot. But I did ride out slow. Don’t think nobody noticed me.”

  Starr scowled at him. “You’d better hope not. Get moving. The sooner we’re off the road, the better.”

  “Yes, sir.” Ira urged the horse to a gallop, quickly leaving them behind.

  Starr snapped the reins and leaned back in the seat with a faint, satisfied smile.

  But why?

  Chapter 23

  Cade pulled up a chair beside Nola’s bed and took her hand. He stared down at the thin, wrinkled fingers, realizing for the first time how fragile she had become. The doctor had assured him she would be fine after a few days rest, but he silently vowed to find the men who had hurt her.

  And who had taken Jessie. Anguish tightened his chest until he could barely breathe. Please God, keep her safe. Don’t let them hurt her. Help her not to be afraid.

  He took a deep breath, fighting back his own fear. He didn’t have time for it. Anger and determination had to carry him through. If they harmed a hair on her head, he’d kill them.

  He had been three miles from the ranch house checking a sick cow when Ty reached him. Brad had found Nola and taken the note to Quint, who was staying in town until after the trial. While Ty came after Cade, Quint and Sheriff Proctor questioned the neighbors, to see if anyone had noticed Jessie and the kidnapper leave.

  They came up empty handed.

  Nola opened her eyes and looked up at Cade. “Have they found her?”

  He shook his head. “They’ve talked to about everybody in town. So far, folks have mentioned seeing three buggies leave town early this morning, all in different directions. We’ll ride out in a few minutes, split up to cover as much territory as we can. The sheriff is organizing things right now.” He patted her hand. “How do you feel?”

  “Like a useless old fool. I should have sensed something was wrong. Would have when I was younger.” She grimaced a
nd scooted up on the pillow. Cade quickly put another one behind her. “Reckon I don’t hear quite as well as I used to. Now I got a headache the size of Oklahoma and a pug-knot to go with it.”

  “I’m glad they didn’t hurt you worse.”

  “Me, too. Though I don’t think that was their intention. The man who tied me up kept apologizing under his breath, telling me how sorry he was he hurt me. Then, he’d ask God to please not let me die. His hands were shaking so hard, it’s a wonder I wasn’t able to just slip the knot loose. I peeked up at him a couple of times without him knowing.”

  “Did you recognize him?”

  “No. I expect he was a little younger than you. A lot smaller. Maybe five-six or so and skinny as a rail. Not anything like the man who had hold of Jessie.”

  “What did he look like?” Cade knew the sheriff had asked the same thing, but he hoped she might remember something new.

  “I only got a glimpse of them through the backdoor a second before that mangy galoot hit me. He wasn’t dressed like a cowboy, wore a suit. He had one hand over Jessie’s mouth and the other holding a knife to her.”

  Even though he knew about the knife, Cade clenched his free hand into a fist.

  She looked toward the window, her expression thoughtful. “Black suit. White shirt. Regular Stetson, like you wear. He was about your height, but slimmer. Not skinny at all, though. Handsome. The kind of man a woman notices, even an old one like me.”

  “You think he might have been a rancher?”

  “No, I didn’t get that impression.” She looked back at Cade. “Mind you, it was only a glimpse, but they were standing in the sunlight, not in the shade of the porch so I saw him clearly. He was the complete opposite of the one who hit me. I almost feel sorry for that boy. But the man outside was the one in control. Calm, like nothing would faze him.”

  “Like he had done this kind of thing before?”

  “Maybe. Kidnapping a woman didn’t bother him any. Or seeing an old woman smacked on the head. Professional. That’s the word that comes to mind when I think of him.” A frown darkened her face. “I suppose that could be real bad.”