Bartholomew, carrying a gilt-edged mirror from the main salon, replied lightly, "Oh, we are just getting things ready to pack. Yancy has said that we will leave by the end of the week and that we should take only the most essential items with us." He smiled kindly at Sara. "I think I know, of the things that remain, which pieces and objects you would like to take with us."
"I'm afraid that there has been a mistake," Sara said tightly. '*Yancy may be leaving by the end of the week and certainly he may take half of whatever he chooses with him, but the remainder is to stay here—with me!" At their dismayed expressions, she added in a softer tone, "Of course, if you wish to go with him, I understand— but I have no intention of doing so! And no one can make me!"
Feeling distinctly out of sorts, Sara retreated to her bedroom. Once there, she found little solace, and because she needed to gain at least some amount of inner tranquility before she had to face Yancy again, she deliberately
didn't let herself, even for one second, dwell on the latest disturbing exchange with him. He was arrogant, infuriating, overbearing and far, far too sure of himself, and if she dared let herself think about him, she'd lose what control of the situation she still retained.
She deliberately skipped the evening meal that night and, ignoring the grumbles of her empty stomach, eventually crawled into bed. She might be hungry, but she wasn't about to confront the combined forces of her household, very well aware that by now Yancy had convinced all of them that they were indeed leaving for del Sol before the end of the week. They could all damn well go! she thought grimly as she stared up at the ceiling. She wasn't!
To her surprise, she fell asleep almost immediately. How long she had slept, Sara had no idea, but suddenly she was jerked wide awake by the certain knowledge that someone was in her rooml Her heart leaped to her throat and her eyes strained to pierce the darkness.
A dark shadow drifted toward her bed, and even as she opened her mouth to scream, a hand came down swiftly across her lips. A warm, silky voice murmured in her ear, "Ah, sweetheart, I would have preferred to do this another way, but since you've made it clear that unless I abduct you, you will not go to del Sol, you don't leave me any choice. So abduction it will have to be!"
Yancyl she thought furiously, her fright gone and sheer rage replacing it. She began to struggle wildly, but he only laughed softly as he scooped her up, effectively trussing her up in her own bedcovers. With her head and upper body heavily cloaked by blankets, her cries for help were muffled. She was carelessly tossed over his shoulder, and after giving her a teasing swat on the bottom, he said softly, "Don't worry, chicay I have no intention of harming the mother of my children! Now stop fighting me—you'll enjoy your journey
to del Sol so much better! And don't worry about the others—^they'll follow soon enough! As for now"—he laughed softly again—"it shall be you and me riding away together under the stars. ..."
PART TWO
Abduction of THE Heart
Lady, cheer up; most of our ills, blowing
loudly In dreams by night, grow milder when
'tis day.
AcRisius. Fragment — Sophocles
9
Sara was so stunned by Yancy*s outrageously highhanded actions that even as he tossed her struggling, blanket-wrapped form over the back of a horse like a sack of grain and swiftly tied her to the animal, she didn't honestly believe that he would go through with it. He wouldn't dare, she told herself stoutly. He was only trying to frighten her. But when the horse began to move a few minutes later, the full enormity of her situation dawned on her. He was abducting her He was actually going to spirit her away to del Sol!
A muffled scream of sheer rage burst from her, and like a wild animal caught in a trap, she increased her frantic struggles. He wasn't, she thought furiously, going to get away with this! Sara wasn't by nature a violent person, but it could not be denied that several rather grisly fates for Yancy sped through her mind as she fought against the bonds that secured her to the horse.
Despite her undignified position, several things were clear to her as the moments passed. He had planned this well. She had akeady figured out from the sounds that there were three horses—the mount Yancy was riding, the beast that carried her and one other. A pack horse? Or was someone else involved in this midnight abduction? If there was a rider on that third horse, he or she was being very quiet, Sara concluded uneasily. As they
rode farther away from Magnolia Grove, it was obvious, too, that Yancy wasn't the least concerned about anyone raising the alarm and pursuing them. In growing rage she listened as he whistled softly to himself and urged the horses to a faster pace. She had to escape! There wasn't a moment to lose! Every mile took her farther away from safety.
The increased intensity of her unbridled attempts to free herself caused her horse to dance nervously, and Sara smiled grimly. Good! Let Yancy fight with a fractious woman and a horse! She couldn't see anything and, trussed up as she was, she could tell little of what was going on around her, but from the horse's actions and the soothing words she heard from Yancy as he tried to calm the uneasy creature she surmised that he wasn't having an easy time of it. After a particularly rambunctious several minutes, brought on by her wild thrashings, the horse was halted and Sara felt a spurt of hope. Maybe Yancy had decided she wasn't worth all this trouble.
Her hope was ill-founded. She was conscious of Yancy bringing his horse alongside hers, and a second later, his hand swatted her smartly on her bottom.
"I know you're angry, sweetheart," he drawled, the amusement in his voice enraging her. "But you're going to have to settle down or I'll be forced to do something that you'll like even less than this!"
A soft growl of sheer fury was his answer and he laughed softly. "I know, I know, you're really annoyed right now, but, chica, it's all your fault!" He spoke with such reasonableness that Sara's teeth ground together audibly. "And remember, you didn't give me any choice—you made it very clear that this was the only way you'd go to del Sol. So what was I to do?"
Though muffled, there was no mistaking the furious reply that came from the shrouded figure. Yancy smiled in the moonlight. "Well, you're just going to have to
wait a bit before you can get your hands on me. Now settle down and don't give me any more trouble and this whole process will be easier for all of us. And, Sara," he added quietly, with no amusement evident, "don't make me stop again. You won't like what I'll do to you if you keep giving me trouble."
The threat was implicit, and with a bitter sigh, Sara forced herself to relax. For now, at least, Yancy seemed to have the upper hand and she wasn't going to gain anything but grief for herself if she didn't cooperate. For now. It wasn't easy to tamely admit defeat, but she did stop her wild thrashings and tried to find a comfortable position in which to continue the journey.
Unfortunately for her, there was nothing comfortable about the ride that followed. Yancy apparently wanted to cover as much ground as possible before daylight, and despite leading the two other horses, he was able to keep the animals at a fairly swift pace.
At first it wasn't too bad, but by the time they had been traveling for several hours, Sara felt as if she had been beaten up and thrown down a flight of stairs. Every bone in her body ached and she was certain she was going to have bruises that would last for weeks. But she had other, more pressing things to think about and she squirmed around, trying to ease the demands of her body. It was no use, and knowing she wouldn't be able to last much longer, she called out to Yancy, hoping that he could hear her voice clearly enough through the folds of cloth and above the noise of the horses' hooves.
To her relief, the horses were halted a second later and he dismounted and came back to stand beside her mount. With quick, economical movements, he untied her from the saddle and lifted her down. Her legs were unsteady and she swayed against him as he roughly jerked the blankets from around her.
"I told you," he said grimly, "that if you didn't settle down, I'd do somethin
g you'd like even less!"
Gulping in great draughts of fresh air, Sara said quickly, "You don't understand! I have to ..." She flushed and muttered almost inaudibly, "I need to .. . um, I need ..." Innately shy and horribly embarrassed to confess her predicament, she looked at him beseechingly.
Yancy understood in a moment and his mouth twisted ruefully. "I'm sorry, chica. I should have stopped earlier." He gave her a searching glance, then said quietly, "We can do this two ways. You can give me your word of honor that if I allow you some privacy, you won't try to escape... or I come with you. Which is it?"
Her body needs urgent, her face hot with mortification, Sara said breathlessly, "I swear! I won't try to run away!" And not waiting to see if he believed her, desperate for relief, she bolted into the bushes.
Yancy waited patiently and when a few minutes later she reappeared, he asked kindly, "Feel better?"
If possible, Sara's face got even hotter. She gave a curt nod and docilely moved toward her horse, standing there silently. When Yancy approached with the ropes and blanket again, she flinched, but it was obvious she wasn't going to put up much of a fight.
There was something so defeated about her as she stood there in the rapidly waning moonlight, her thick hair tumbling wildly about her shoulders, her slim body clearly outlined in her patched muslin nightgown, that Yancy was uncomfortably aware of a tiny ache in the region of his heart. "If you'll promise not to cause any trouble," he said gruffly, "I won't truss you up again."
She threw him a grateful look, and cursing himself for a fool, he lifted her slight weight and settled her gently into the saddle. Glaring sternly up at her, he muttered,
"One sound, one move that I don't like, and it's back the way you were, understand?"
Her eyes very big and green in her face, she nodded, hardly daring to believe that she wasn't going to have to endure the smothering folds of the blanket. Yancy grunted something and went about the business of making certain that her stumps were the right length.
The fact that she was not garbed for riding became apparent to both of them almost immediately as Yancy's fingers touched her bare feet. He frowned. His warm hands lingered for a second and then, with a sigh, he walked over to the third horse and searched around in the pack on its back.
Returning to the side of her horse, he said dryly, "You might as well dismount and put these on. I don't intend stopping again any time soon, and dressed as you are, you're bound to cause comment if we pass anyone."
*These" were her boots, a floppy-brimmed, woven straw hat, a worn, short calico gown and a pair of boy's knickerbockers. Her mouth tightened as her suspicion that at least one member of her household had abetted him in his nefarious actions grew stronger. She jerked the clothing out of his hands and turned her back on him, her nightgown keeping her modestly covered as she struggled into the knickerbockers and pulled on her boots. In order to put on the calico top, she would have to remove her nightgown, and she hesitated for a long moment. She glanced uneasily over her shoulder, and seeing Yancy watching her with open amusement, she muttered something extremely unladylike and turned her back on him once more. She took a deep breath and then, in practically one movement, stripped off her nightdress and swiftly shrugged into the short calico gown.
Yancy had a brief, tantalizing glimpse of white, gently rounded shoulders, a stiff little back and a slim
waist before the calico hid her charms from his fascinated gaze. For a long moment his eyes lingered on the delightfully shaped deniere revealed by the knickerbockers. She spun to face him and, realizing that he had been boldly staring at her body, said icily, "I hope you enjoyed yourself!"
He grinned and handed her the floppy-brimmed straw hat. "Oh, I did, sweetheart, I did indeed!"
Too infuriated to reply, she jammed the hat on her head and, with lithe grace, mounted her horse. With no clear plan in mind, she kicked the animal into a smart trot. There was a startled yelp from Yancy as he raced for his own horse. It took Sara but a second to realize that this was her chance to escape, that the few precious moments it would take Yancy to remount might be all the time she needed to get away from him. And if her horse was faster than his ... Filled with excitement, she kicked her horse harder, and as the animal responded by breaking into a dead run, a little bubble of laughter rose up in her chest. She*d show him! But even as elation spread through her, it occurred to her that she really hadn't chosen her moment wisely—she had no idea where she was or in which direction lay safety, and Yancy, on what she suspected was the more powerful horse, was only seconds behind her. She could hear the thunder of his horse's hooves. Any minute now, she had no doubt that he would overtake her. Worse, she had given her word that she'd cause no trouble. After this httle stunt, it was very likely—no, probable—that she'd spend the rest of the journey trussed up like a chicken going to market.
Not giving herself time to think, she jerked her horse to a standstill, the animal rearing up wildly on its hind legs and pawing toward the sky at the abrupt reversal. Not a particularly intrepid rider, Sara nonetheless clung gamely to the back of her mount, praying it wouldn't
go over backward and kill her in the process. Hardly aware of Yancy, who was pulling his own horse to a far less dramatic stop, Sara fought for several frightening moments to bring the animal under control.
Once her horse had calmed, Yancy, his face grim in the moonlight, brought his own mount alongside and snatched the reins from her slackened grasp. "And what the hell was that all about?" he demanded furiously, not about to reveal the sheer terror that had knifed through him when her horse had reared and she had appeared so small and defenseless upon its back.
Her heartbeat returning to normal, and secretly thankful that the dangerous moment was behind her, Sara looked at him and said with disarming earnestness, "I forgot—^I gave you my word that I wouldn't try to escape."
Nonplussed, Yancy stared at her for several tense seconds, his fear for her safety gradually ebbing. Finally, when she was convinced that he was going to tie her up again, he scowled blackly at her and said acidly, "Don't forget again!"
Fortunately, the pack horse had galloped after the other two animals and Yancy caught it without any trouble. Once again they started off on their journey, Sara's mount obediently falling in alongside Yancy's, the pack horse traveling closely behind.
Sara wasn't any happier with her overall situation, but she was delighted to be sitting upright on the horse and not dangling helplessly over its side, enveloped in cpuntless yards of smothering bedclothes. She was also glad to be more suitably clad, although it felt strange to be wearing clothes without even a chemise or a pair of drawers underneath. Her small bosom and narrow waist needed no corset to define her shapeliness and she often dispensed with wearing one—but no drawers and chemise! It felt decidedly odd, almost decadent, and she was
very aware of her breasts pushing and rubbing against the calico and of how the worn knickerbockers clung to her bottom and thighs. It was a queer sensation and made her extremely conscious of her body in a way she hadn't been before.
The moonlight had disappeared, but dawn was not far away and already it was considerably lighter. Sara glanced curiously around her. From the direction of the rising sun, she ascertained that they were riding in a southwesterly direction, and while she knew that they couldn't be more than fifteen miles from Magnolia Grove, nothing looked familiar to her. It was as if they had left civilization behind and stepped off into the untamed wilderness. The landscape was very similar to the uncultivated areas around Magnolia Grove— towering live oaks, spreading magnolia and pecan trees, with multihued green vines and bushes growing rampantly throughout. In the open grassy areas, small spring wildflowers in fantastic shades of blue, pink and yellow bloomed profusely. Under different circumstances, Sara would have enjoyed herself immensely.
As the sun grew higher in the brilliantly blue sky and they continued to ride steadily southwest, she was very glad of the floppy-brinmied hat and her loose, comfor
table clothing. The day became very hot and humid, but Yancy showed no sign of stopping, although about midmoming he handed her a thick sandwich of bread and cheese and passed her his canteen. The only time the horses were not moving was when Yancy would allow them to slake their thirst from the small creeks and streams that were scattered throughout the area. To Sara's disappointment, they passed no other riders or wagons, and though she looked surreptitiously around all the time, she had seen no evidence of human habitation. Her mouth twisted. She didn't know why Yancy had wanted her word that she would not try to escape—
there certainly didn't seem to be any place or person to escape to!
It was after noon before Yancy called a halt. Not used to long hours in the saddle, Sara was aching in places she didn't know could ache and was fairly melting from the debilitating heat. With heartfelt relief she slid from her horse. Her feet were numb and her legs wobbly after so many hours astride a horse and she felt strange to be finally walking on firm ground again.
Yancy had chosen a pleasant spot to stop. A creek gurgled cheerfully nearby, there was plenty of grass for the horses and there were several patches of welcoming, cooling shade from the clump of live oaks that crowded nearby. The almost hypnotic drone of insects could be heard in the background, and Sara, exhausted by the lack of sleep and the traumatic events, sank down gratefully into the thick spring grass, tossing her hat aside, her tense muscles relaxing fully for the first time since the moment she had awakened to find Yancy in her bedroom.
Oblivious to Yancy as he set up temporary camp, Sara closed her eyes and, a moment later, was sound asleep. It seemed as if she had slept but a minute before she felt Yancy's hand on her shoulder, shaking her gently. As her eyes opened, she realized that several hours had passed, because the sun was considerably lower on the horizon. All her defenses down, she stared up drowsily at him as he lay next to her on the ground, his upper torso propped up by one elbow. Absently she noted the faint black stubble that covered his lean cheeks and chin, the faint creases of fatigue that radiated out from his thickly lashed, gleaming golden-brown eyes. Unaware of the appealing picture she made, Sara lay there innocently blinking up at him like a newly awakened kitten, her beautiful eyes mesmerizing pools of emerald green, her honey-gold hair curling enchant-ingly around her face.
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