by Connie Mason
“Trouble?” Sam scoffed derisively. “The only trouble here is you.”
“What about Indians and outlaws?”
“Indians? Outlaws?” Suddenly she didn’t feel quite so confident.
“Yep. You’re dang lucky that was only a skunk in the bushes. Who knows what might have happened if it had been the Crowders instead. Now come outta there. Get back to the ranch.”
“You go on,” Sam hedged, unwilling to bare herself before him. “I’ll come along later.”
“Don’t be bashful, darlin’. I’ve seen every gorgeous inch of you.”
When Sam made no move to obey, Colt began stripping off his shirt, cursing beneath his breath. Wide-eyed, Sam stared as Colt pulled the shirt from his trousers, baring his bronzed chest. Sam knew exactly what he intended, and when their eyes met there was no surprise, just a tingling awareness and anticipation that unnerved yet tantalized her. Colt was the most intriguing, exasperating man she had ever known, and Sam felt herself melting beneath his steady perusal, compelled by something she did not understand. A familiar shiver of arousal set her atremble as Colt’s pants slithered over his hips to join his shirt and boots on the ground.
“If you refuse to come out I reckon I’ll have to come in after you,” he said with casual softness.
Her throat was dry and tight as he waded into the stream. A tangible air of brute strength clung to him as slick muscles rippled beneath taut skin with each step he took. His muscular form had the same vitality and masculinity of the stallion he rode.
Then suddenly their bodies were touching. Sam could feel his big manhood hard and throbbing with life against her leg, knew he was ready to take her, to prove his mastery over her as he had before. But he would not master her, Sam vowed; she would give as good as she got. Taking wasn’t just a man’s prerogative. She would enjoy him as much as he seemed to enjoy her. She would tease him, taunt him, and bid him good-bye when the time came without tears or recriminations.
When his lips brushed over her nipples she inhaled sharply and moaned her encouragement. His tongue circled one taut peak before taking it into his mouth to suck on it, then he did the same to the other. His hands moved around her softly rounded hips to capture her firm buttocks. Fascinated by his growing desire, she slipped her hand below the water to touch him, hot, throbbing, and growing even larger in her hand as she stroked and fondled him.
“Christ!” he exploded, grasping her hand and holding it in place. “You little tease. Don’t stop. Don’t—”
Then his mouth was on hers, his tongue discovering its softness as he shifted her upward and his manhood found her sheath. Then she could feel him throbbing deep within her. Impaled on his hard shaft, she felt him move with merciless regularity until she could no longer control the beat of her heart, and she plunged recklessly down into passion’s abyss. Once again their fiery lovemaking melted their icy anger and transformed it into a passionate flame.
With Sam held tightly in his arms, Colt carried her out of the water and set her on her feet on the bank, her body sliding down his with provocative slowness.
“Why is it I can think of nothin’ but makin’ love to you?” It rankled to think that lust for the little wildcat consumed him so completely that his job came in a poor second.
“Because you’re randy as a billy goat!” Sam shot back.
The corners of his mourn twitched suspiciously, but Colt would not give Sam the satisfaction of laughing. He had to force the harshness into his voice. “Get dressed, you’re goin’ back home. I don’t have time to stand around listenin’ to your insults. Jake’s goin’ to catch hell for lettin’ you wander off by yourself.”
“Don’t blame Jake. Him and the boys are out rounding up unbranded mavericks. I did this on my own. Go ahead and scold, I can take it.” Her stubborn little chin lifted in the air, and Colt suffered a pang of jealousy.
Did Sam admire Jake? Is that why she defended him so staunchly? Colt had to admit Jake was an attractive rascal, but he damn well better keep his hands off Sam.
“Is somethin’ goin’ on between you and Jake?” His voice was harsh with reproach.
“Do you think all men are like you?” countered Sam angrily. “You’ve got an active imagination as well as a dirty mind. Jake and I are friends.”
“Just remember, darlin’, you’re mine till I say otherwise. No one has the right to touch you ‘cept me.
“You hard-headed jackass! Nobody owns me.”
“You’re tryin’ me somethin’ fierce, darlin’. Get dressed and go back to the ranch. I’m goin’ to mosey around a spell longer. I’ll see you back at the ranch.”
That little black-haired bundle of calamity set his teeth on edge more than any woman he had ever known, Colt reflected as he watched Sam ride off. For some dang reason that feisty brat turned his insides to mush. What he should do was kick the dirt off his heels and hightail it out of Karlsburg. He had no earthly business sniffing after a girl like Samantha Howard. Dolly Douglas was his kind of woman, not someone like Sam who threatened his very way of living. What in the hell was the matter with him? Being tied down was worse than a death sentence. Besides, he hadn’t entirely given up on finding his sister. Someday, somehow, he’d get her back from those savages who had stolen her. Until then there was room for no other woman in his life. Not even a passionate little hellcat like Samantha Howard.
Sam took her time returning to the ranch. Her heart was racing wildly and her body sang a song composed by Colt. He had only to tempt her and she gave herself willingly, gladly, joyfully. One touch from the handsome devil and her wits scattered like sagebrush in the wind. Originally he might have forced her compliance, but that was no longer true. She wanted him. But was lust all that was involved? Sam asked herself. Sometimes her wanton behavior with Colt downright shocked her. Could it be—? Was it possible—?
Her heart whispered what logic so easily denied. She loved Colt! Yet that same logic spoke of the futility of her love. Colt wanted no commitments—nothing or no one to hold him to one place. In a few weeks he’d move on to another town, another woman—or women. Knowing Colt, she’d be no more than a fleeting memory with the passage of time, while her own heart might never recover.
“She’s alone,” Dusty crowed. “Best we do it now before the Ranger shows up again and spoils everythin’.”
“I knew if we waited around long enough our luck would change,” Lyle said eagerly. “It takes more brains than that Ranger’s got to outwit Lyle Crowder. Let’s go, Dusty. By tomorrow we’ll be a thousand dollars richer.”
He spurred his horse cruelly, leaping out from the oak and mesquite lining the trail to confront Sam, Dusty close on his heels. Sam had heard the clatter of hooves but failed to recognize her danger, thinking Colt had changed his mind about letting her ride back to the ranch alone. By the time she collected her wits it was too late. Lyle Crowder was already snatching the reins from her hands and bringing her horse to a skidding halt.
Chapter Nine
Colt reined Thunder in the direction of the ranch, having found little indication that the Crowders were anywhere nearby, although he did find suspicious tracks that left him puzzled. He hadn’t talked to Jake since his foreman had taken over at the Circle H, and he was itching to chew him out for allowing Sam to wander off by herself. No doubt the little spitfire had used her feminine wiles on Jake, turning him inside out just like she did him. It took little imagination to picture her astride her mount, a banner of long black hair waving in the breeze, skin tanned golden by the sun, her tight little bottom clad in masculine trousers bouncing enticingly in the saddle and breasts jiggling beneath her shirt. Christ, what a temptress! No man had a chance with her around.
Jake and the hands were engaged in herding two dozen unbranded mavericks into pens when Colt rode up. He watched a few minutes, amused to see Will in the midst of things, obviously in his element and enjoying himself. Perhaps there was hope for the lad yet, Colt thought with a smile. He seemed to be prospering un
der Jake’s able direction despite the sullen glare the boy slanted at Colt when he rode up. Once the cows were penned, Jake detached himself from the cowboys and rode to meet Colt.
“A nice haul,” Colt acknowledged, nodding toward the sleek cows.
“About time you showed up, pal.” Jake grinned, slapping Colt on the back. “How’s things goin’ in town?”
“Nothin’ new,” remarked Colt glumly. “Jim’s workin’ on a link between the Logans and Crowders, but so far no luck. You seen anythin’ suspicious around the ranch lately?”
“Nope. Are you expectin’ trouble?”
“Saw signs and hoof prints in the hills but nothin’ to suggest the Crowders are still hangin’ around. Saw Sam down by the stream.”
“Sam was ridin’ out alone today? Damnation, I warned her about leavin’ the ranch by herself. She’s as contrary as a mule and twice as stubborn, but so damn beautiful she’d tempt a monk.”
“But you’re no monk, are you, Jake?” Colt expelled an exasperated bream. Life would be so much simpler without Sam driving him to distraction. He found himself acting like a jealous fool and didn’t like it one damn bit.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” bristled Jake.
“I warned you not to sniff around Sam.”
“I don’t see your brand on her.” Jake suppressed an amused smile. He rather enjoyed baiting Colt. Nothing delighted him more than seeing Colt brought low by a woman. Jake always knew that one day a special woman would enter his friend’s life. A woman as strong-willed and contrary as he was. It was long past time some of the ice melted from around Colt’s heart.
“Sam might not wear my brand but she’s mine just the same,” Colt announced arrogandy.
“I wonder what Sam would say to that.”
A lazy grin lifted the corner of Colt’s mouth. “Knowin’ her talent for cussin’, she’d probably spit out a string of words that would singe your ears.”
“You’re slippin’, Colt,” Jake laughed, delighted that he had ruffled Colt’s feathers. “Can’t you tame the little filly? Want me to lend a hand?”
Colt’s smile turned downward into a ferocious scowl. “I meant it, Jake. You’re to keep an eye on Sam and your hands off. That goes for the men, too.”
“Have either of you seen Sam?”
Both men whirled as Will approached, a frown worrying his young face.
“Probably in the house,” Colt said, a frisson of apprehension sizzling down his spine.
“Nope, not there,” Will replied tersely, “and her horse is gone from the stable.”
“Christ!” thundered Colt. “How can one small woman cause so much trouble? I saw her down by the stream earlier and sent her home. Don’t worry, Will, I’ll find her, and when I do I aim to blister her britches good. Probably stopped to pick wildflowers or some such foolish female thing.” To Jake he said, “Bring a couple of the boys, we’ll search the hills. Probably find her sashaying back on her own.”
Jake hurried off. “I’m goin’ with you,” Will insisted.
“I don’t—”
“Sam’s my sister.”
A sigh left Colt’s throat. “Okay, Will, c’ mon.”
Sam had no idea what was happening until she recognized Lyle Crowder. Digging her heels into her mount’s flanks and slapping the reins against its heaving sides, she surged ahead, but only briefly. She had responded to danger too late, recognizing her peril when escape was all but impossible. Overtaking her easily, Lyle seized the reins from her fingers and brought her horse to an abrupt halt.
“What do you want, you mangy varmint?” Sam screamed, struggling as Lyle dragged her from her horse and placed her in the saddle in front of him. “Let me go!”
“You ain’t goin’ nowhere, lady, we got plans for you,” Lyle growled gruffly. “Big plans.” Wheeling, he took off toward a range of flat-topped hills rising in the distance. Dusty followed, Sam’s horse trotting behind on a leading rein.
Sam slumped dejectedly, knowing the exact moment they left the Circle H spread behind. Clinging to the saddlehorn, she attempted to keep her spine rigid so as not to touch the despicable desparado holding her before him in the saddle, but as the afternoon waned so did Sam’s strength. She leaned slightly forward but hadn’t the energy to resist when Lyle uttered a nasty chuckle and pulled her firmly against his chest. Lyle was aware that Vern Logan didn’t want the girl hurt, but nothing had been said against having a little fun with her.
Darkness was approaching when they rode into camp. Sam noted that the camp was located in a natural box canyon which afforded the oudaws maximum protection. From somewhere nearby she heard the lowing and restless movement of cattle. A lot of cattle. Several men milled around a small campfire, some engaged in preparing a meal, others performing mundane tasks. They looked on curiously as Lyle and Dusty dismounted but made no comment. Immediately one of the men detached himself from the group and led the horses to a remuda nearby to join the others.
“What kept you?” greeted a slim man with dirty brown hair and a droopy mustache. “We been waitin’ on you for days.”
“Ain’t our fault,” Dusty complained. “This is the first the girl’s been out alone. That damn Ranger nearly ruined everythin’.”
Lyle pulled Sam roughly from the saddle. Her knees nearly crumbled beneath her, but somehow she managed to remain upright. Someone shoved a plate of food in her hands. “Eat,” Lyle ordered brusquely.
Ravenous, Sam hunkered down and wolfed the beans, bacon, and biscuits without asking questions, though she wondered what would happen next and listened closely to the conversation between Lyle and his men.
“What now, Lyle?”
“We follow directions, Blackie.”
“You want I should hightail it to town?”
“Naw, mornin’ will do.”
Blackie slid a lascivious glance in Sam’s direction. “She sure is purty. There ain’t but ten of us, can we pass her around?”
Lyle would have liked nothing better than to thrust himself between Sam’s long golden thighs, but he was a greedy man. He wanted Logan’s money. Once he had it, he and the boys could go across the border into Mexico with the cattle now penned up in the canyon and buy themselves a different woman every night of the week.
Remembering that Vern Logan wanted the girl scared enough to be beholden to him for ransoming her, Lyle winked broadly at Blackie. “A good idea, Blackie. Let’s draw lots to see who gets her first.”
Sam had no idea that Lyle’s words were meant mainly to terrify her. “No!” she screeched, her empty plate flying to the ground as she leaped to her feet. “Why are you doing this to me? What good can possibly come of hurting me? Don’t you know what will happen when Colt finds you?”
Dusty looked decidedly unhappy and a few of the others shifted nervously from foot to foot. Only Lyle and Blackie seemed unperturbed. “Let the varmint come. Me and him got a score to settle,” Lyle replied, scowling. “He ain’t no match for the ten of us.”
“Colt has all the hands from the Circle H to back him up,” shot back Sam, undaunted.
“We ain’t afeared of ranch hands,” Blackie guffawed. “Give me the girl, Lyle, I’m leavin’ in the mornin’ and might miss my turn.”
Panic-stricken, Sam reacted instinctively, fear lending wings to her feet as she darted off into the darkness. Her tactic so surprised her captors that she was able to make good headway before Blackie, being wiry and lighter on his feet, lurched into motion. She was brought to a shuddering halt when he grabbed the lengthy tail of black hair whipping behind her and yanked viciously. Sam screamed in agony as her body jerked backwards against Blackie’s thin chest. Oblivious to her discomfort, he dragged her back to camp protesting violently.
“Nice goin’, Blackie,” Lyle crowed. “I reckon you deserve first crack at her. She’s yours.”
Sam blanched. None of this made sense. What did the Crowders want with her? Obviously they had taken her for a purpose. Was she to be cruelly raped by every
member of the gang?
Like the rest of the Crowders, Blackie knew his instructions regarding Sam, but he was ready and willing to disregard them if Lyle hadn’t winked at him and said, “Enough, Blackie, orders is orders.”
“Shit!” Blackie growled, spitting out a dirty stream of tobacco juice at Sam’s feet. “Just when I was beginnin’ to enjoy myself.”
He was so aroused by now that he flung Sam from him in disgust. Like a rag doll she flew through the air and came down with a thud, slamming her head against a rock. She went limp and lay still.
“What in the hell did you do to her?” Lyle roared. “Logan ain’t gonna like this.” His beady eyes greedily devoured the curve of Sam’s breasts beneath the open shirt that had come unbuttoned during the struggle.
“Aw, shit, Lyle, I ain’t hurt her none,” Blackie said sheepishly. “I was gentle as a lamb. Can’t help if she landed on a rock.”
“You better pray she’s all right when she wakes up,” Lyle warned ominously. “If she cries rape, you can kiss your share good-bye.”
“Tie her hands and feet and lay her close to the fire,” Lyle continued tersely. “Throw a blanket over her so’s we can all get some sleep. After Logan gets here with the money, we’ll head to Mexico with the cattle. Just hope there ain’t no Injuns around. Once those Red savages get wind of the cows, they’re likely to lift our scalps as well as our stock.”
“We’ll find Sam tomorrow, Will,” Colt promised as they dismounted in front of the bunkhouse. “Don’t give up.” He could tell by the boy’s drooping shoulders that Will had all but given up hope of finding his sister.
“What could the Crowders want with Sam?” Will asked dejectedly. “Are you positive you read the signs right? Could be Indians.”
“Jake and I studied the tracks carefully, son, and it wasn’t Indians. I can smell those varmints a mile away.”
“I reckon we best all get some shuteye and start out fresh in the mornin’,” Jake suggested. “We’ve done all we can tonight.”