Leroy laughed. “You always was a smart one. Pretty and smart and mine now, just like your pa intended.”
Rilla decided telling him she was married wouldn’t be very smart. She’d never thought Leroy capable of forcing himself on her, but she’d never thought he’d kidnap her either. If he knew she was married, he might just take what he wanted out of anger.
~~~~~
Morgan knew he was far behind those men and Rilla. It had taken more time than he’d hoped to capture the horse and donkey. When he approached, Biddy had gone one way and Jack the other. Biddy was the easier animal, so he went after her first.
When she slowed again, Morgan had circled her and approached from in front, so she could see him. Biddy recognized his and Condor’s smell and knew their look and stood waiting for them. Morgan dismounted a short distance away and walked up to her, speaking softly. Once he had her reins, he stroked her nose, still talking to the nervous mare. Condor came close and snuffled, then laid his head across Biddy’s neck.
Morgan chuckled. “So that’s the way of it. Well, let’s get Jack and go rescue my girl. If I can’t have mine, you sure can’t have yours.”
Using the same approach he had with Biddy, Jack surprised him by being cooperative rather than stubborn. Still the time it took made him even further behind Rilla and the men who’d taken her.
Morgan rode back to where they’d been attacked and picked up their trail. Who were they? Why had they taken what they thought was a teenage boy?
One man, he realized, had been the one who’d spoken to them in the saloon. Morgan had thought it strange at the time and they’d left early and pushed hard because of it. Seems he hadn’t pushed hard enough. The men must have realized Rilla was a woman rather than a boy. Must have decided they wanted her.
There was no way Morgan was going to let them have her. Rilla was his wife. No one was going to take her from him. No one ever. The realization that he wanted her to stay his wife, even after they found the gold and went back to Denver took Morgan by surprise.
As he followed the trail left by the men who had Rilla, Morgan thought about how his feelings for her had developed. He hadn’t intended to have any feelings except as a partner on this case. He’d had other partners before. Granted, they’d all been men, but Morgan hadn’t been attracted to her when they’d first met.
Not that she’d repulsed him. He’d just seen her as another partner, and one he wasn’t too keen on solving the case with. Then when she’d insisted on taking those carpetbags of costumes she called disguises, he’d pretty much decided to not like her. And her shock at having to ride rather than take a buggy. That pretty much sealed it for him. Rilla was going to be a pain in his patoot the entire time, he was positive.
Morgan had felt sorry for her when it became clear she was a very inexperienced horsewoman. She was becoming more proficient. She could now ride both a sidesaddle and western saddle, maybe not with ease but well enough. Saddling the horse was still somewhat of a struggle, but that was due more to her size and strength than unwillingness to do so.
Rilla had impressed him with her knowledge of cooking on an open fire. When he’d told her so, she’d explained that the troupe had wagons they traveled from town to town in and they’d camp along the trail, so she’d learned early how to gather wood, build a fire, and cook over it. Though she didn’t truly complain, he knew she didn’t like the type of camping they were doing, sleeping out in the open, in all types of weather.
Morgan realized that she didn’t complain, not really. She might make a suggestion, like wanting to take a bath when they got to a town, but didn’t complain about not having the opportunity to do so.
When he’d insisted they go to Lincoln City rather than Jefferson, Rilla had simply followed his lead. She hadn’t even said, “I told you so,” when he’d realized he’d been wrong and she right.
There were some insecurities, or maybe anxiety was a better word, that she seemed to have. Her vehement arguments on how women were treated as property stemmed from something. Rilla had strong feelings on the subject. Morgan wondered if she’d been ill-treated in some way.
She was funny too. The tales she told of her growing up with the theater troupe made the miles they traveled go faster. She didn’t hesitate to laugh at herself and her mistakes.
When he’d had his nightmares, her comfort yet not insisting he tell her about them demonstrated her compassion and thoughtfulness.
Yes, Rilla was someone he wanted in his life. Maybe as a partner on cases that didn’t involve much danger, but definitely as his wife. The realization that he was in love with her made him check the animals trailing behind before he kicked Condor into a gallop. He had to find and rescue her before those men did something terrible to her.
~~~~~
“We have to stop, Leroy,” Rilla said.
“No, we need to get further along, away from that man you were traveling with.”
“No, we need to stop now!” she insisted. “If you don’t, you’re going to have a wet saddle.”
Leroy turned the horse toward a stand of trees and stopped when they were within their shade. He dismounted and hauled her off, none too gently, and set her on her feet. “See that bush over there? You go behind there and do your business. If you’re not back in a couple of minutes, I’m coming after you, whether you’re done or not.” He gave her a little shove.
Rilla ran to the bush. It seemed to her that Leroy was being somewhat cautious about her escaping, but not very much. She checked both the Derringer tucked in her waistband and the knife in her boot. Leroy had taken the knife from her belt when he’d swung her up in front of him on the saddle. Now wasn’t the time to try to escape. They’d be on her in a minute.
They had to sleep sometime. Even if they tried to sleep in shifts, Rilla thought she’d be able to sneak away. Since she’d ridden into Lincoln City with only a horse blanket, she figured she could ride that way again to get away. The only problem would be finding a large enough rock or fallen tree to use as a mounting block. There was no way she could mount bareback without one.
“Rilla, you get your behind back here or I’ll come and get you,” Leroy called, irritation in his tone.
“I’m coming. Keep your britches on.” Rilla fastened her belt and pulled the edge of her vest over it, making sure the Derringer was well hidden.
“Come on, let’s mount up. We need to get away from that man you were with.” Leroy tossed her up into the saddle and mounted behind her. “Who was that man anyway?”
Rilla made a show of struggling to stay on the horse. The less sure Leroy was about her riding skills the better. If he thought she couldn’t ride well, it would make it easier to get away.
“He was escorting me to Denver. He thinks I’m a boy trying to get back home after running away.”
“He told Abram you were going to Cheyenne.”
“Would you tell a complete stranger who was paying too much attention to you where you were headed?”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“There you go. Morgan didn’t either.”
They rode on in silence until they reached another stream. Trees grew along the edges. Leroy turned and headed upstream, further up the hillside. “Abram, scout ahead and find a place for us to camp for the night.”
Abram rode off, leaving Rilla alone with Leroy. She hesitated to question him, since she didn’t want him to become angry. Leroy wasn’t known for his calm demeanor. If he got mad, his fists started swinging and he didn’t care if the person he was aiming for was a man or woman.
Finally, her curiosity got the better of her as they waited for Abram to return. “Why aren’t you with the troupe anymore?”
“Stupid manager didn’t like my side business. We decided to part ways.”
“Side business?”
“Never mind about that. I met up with Abram and we’ve been traveling around.” Leroy broke off his explanation, seeming to not want to elaborate more. “Here comes Abram.” He ki
cked the horse’s side and they headed upstream.
Rilla was getting nervous, or rather more nervous. Wasn’t Morgan trying to find her? Was she going to have to spend the night with these men? That was something she didn’t want to do. She didn’t want to think about what Leroy, and maybe Abram, might do to her.
They stopped at a clearing near the stream. When Leroy pulled her off his horse, he said, “Get some firewood while we water and feed the horses. Don’t go out of my sight. You won’t like the consequences if you do.”
Rilla didn’t respond. She simply walked away, gathering dry pieces of wood as she wandered through the trees surrounding the clearing. On the outer edge a plant just beginning to spread its leaves after the winter caught her eye. She knew that plant. Auntie June, an old woman with the theater troupe, had used valerian root tea for various illnesses. It was especially useful for anxiety and sleeplessness.
Rilla took her armload of wood to where the men were setting up camp. “Here.” She dropped the sticks beside Leroy. “I’ll go get some more.” Leroy just grunted as she walked away.
When she got back to where she’d seen the plant, Rilla knelt and dug up the root. She knew it worked better as a tincture, but she didn’t have three weeks to let it steep in a bottle of gin. She was a little short on the liquor too, for that matter, though Leroy probably had some whiskey with him. She’d cut the root into small pieces and brew it with the coffee she was sure they’d drink with supper. After they ate was when they’d break out the whiskey.
~~~~~
The trail was easy to follow. The ground was still soft from the spring thaw. Two horses with one obviously carrying more than one person left hoofprints easily seen as Morgan rode. He found a place where they’d stopped. He grinned. Small boot prints led to a stand of bushes and back. Rilla had the call of nature more often than he did. Seems it was common for her.
The trail led further into the foothills, the ground becoming steeper, more tree covered than the plain to the east. As the sun descended toward the mountain tops, Morgan pushed faster, as fast as he could leading two other animals.
At a small creek the trail veered upstream. Evening was deepening, and Morgan proceeded more slowly. They would be making camp. He didn’t want to alert them to his presence, so he secured the horses and continued on foot.
Rilla was preparing a meal when he found them. Morgan squatted behind a multi-trunked tree, keeping himself hidden but close enough to hear and intervene if necessary. She was cutting something into small pieces with her backs to the men. That seemed dangerous to Morgan as it made her vulnerable to a surprise attack. She was up to something, he realized, when she scooped up the pieces and put them in the coffeepot hanging over the fire.
Her captors arranged their saddles and blankets around the fire. Morgan’s blood heated as he thought of what might happen to his wife in those blankets. Now wasn’t a good time to attack. He’d keep watch and rescue Rilla when he had more chance of success.
One of the men, Morgan noted, was the one who’d talked with them in the saloon the previous evening. He’d been right to be suspicious. Something must have tipped him off that Rilla was a woman.
A flask was passed between the two men. That could be good or bad. It could make them drowsy or more inclined to take advantage of Rilla.
“Here’s coffee,” Rilla said, taking cups to the men. “Food will be ready shortly.”
Morgan grinned. That was her ‘I’m really irritated’ tone. Seems she wasn’t happy with her situation.
“This coffee is bitter,” one of the men complained.
Rilla turned toward them, standing with her hands on her hips. “They’re your coffee beans, Leroy. If you don’t like the way I made it, you can just make another pot yourself. I didn’t ask to be here or to gather wood or cook your meal, so don’t complain.”
She was definitely mad. Morgan had never been the focus of her anger, but he’d seen the possibility of it while they traveled.
Her response made him think. It was too familiar tenor to be used with a stranger. Rilla must have known this Leroy before. She must know that she can express her irritation, at least how far she could take it before he’d react in a more threatening way.
Rilla pulled two spider skillets from the fire and dished up the meal. Morgan knew she was a good cook and his stomach growled at the aroma. He pulled a piece of jerky from his pocket and chewed the tough meat. There would be no supper for him. Or even bitter coffee.
Rilla kept filling the men’s coffee cups. Why would she do that? Did she want them to stay awake? Wouldn’t that put her in a more vulnerable position?
As Rilla washed the plates and utensils in the stream, the men drank from the flask again. They seemed to be yawning more than the evening warranted.
“Give me that knife.” The man called Leroy stood and held out his hand. “I’m beat, up late last night and riding all day. I’m not going to be stabbed while I sleep. I’m gonna tie you next to me so I know if you try to get away. Don’t fret, sweetheart, we’ll just snuggle together until we find a justice of the peace.”
Morgan heard a humph and the slap of a knife on a palm. He hoped she still had the knife he’d given her in her boot.
The other man got up and went to check the horses while Leroy tied Rilla’s hands and feet as she lay on a blanket.
“At least let me have a blanket to myself,” Rilla said.
“Aw, sweetheart, don’t you want to share with me, your husband-to-be?”
“It gets cold at night. I’m pretty sure you’ll hog the blankets.” There was that irritated tone again.
“I’ll share my warmth with you.” Morgan could hear the desire in the man’s voice.
“That may be, but I want my own blanket.”
Morgan hoped Rilla didn’t push him too far. In the banked glow of the fire, he saw Leroy cover Rilla, then shake out another blanket before he lay down beside her, pull it up and wrap an arm around her waist.
Waiting was going to be torture. With all the coffee the men drank it could be hours before they settled into a deep sleep. Morgan went back to where he’d staked the horses and moved them closer. They might need to make a fast getaway.
As he approached the camp, he heard snores. He shook his head. They were men’s snores. It seemed they were pretty sure of themselves, not to leave a man on watch.
Though not full, the moon gave enough light for Morgan to see where each man was. Seems they had set one to watch. Too bad he was leaning back against a tree sound asleep.
Morgan remembered the pieces Rilla had cut up and put into the coffee pot. Must have made them overly sleepy. Smart girl.
He began to enter the camp when he saw movement where Leroy and Rilla were sleeping. Or, at least Leroy was.
~~~~~
Rilla slowly rolled away from under the blanket. Leroy’s arm slid from her and gently slipped to the ground. She lay still, waiting to see if he roused and pulled her back. He didn’t. She rolled again to get further away, then struggled into a sitting position.
Her hands were tied in front of her, which she gave thanks for. Rilla was able to bend her knees and dig the knife from her boot. It was difficult to cut the rope around her wrists, but she managed to do so with only a couple of shallow cuts on her skin. Just as she was leaning over to cut her ankle binding, a hand pulled her against a hard body and another covered her mouth.
“Shh. It’s me.” Morgan’s whisper calmed the panic overtaking her.
Rilla nodded, letting him know she’d keep still and quiet. He released her and moved around, cutting her leg binding in a couple of strokes. With a hand, Morgan helped her stand, and they moved away from the sleeping men into the trees.
Suddenly, she was wrapped in arms, being held against Morgan’s chest. It felt so good. Too good. But she stayed there, bathed in relief that she was free from Leroy and Abram.
“I was so worried. I had to get the horses before I could come for you. I was afraid I would be too la
te to keep you from harm.” Morgan’s mouth was beside her ear, whispering.
“I hoped you’d come.”
He pushed her away from his chest, but kept hold of her upper arms. “Of course I’d come for you. You’re my wife. No way would I let some other man take you from me.”
Rilla looked at him, puzzled at his words. He seemed to be focusing on their marriage rather than that she was his partner on the case. Oh well, he’d come for her. She was free from Leroy and Abram. That’s all that mattered.
“Let’s go. We can be far away before they wake up.” Rilla pulled, trying to get him to release her arms, but he drew her to him again.
“No, we’ll capture these guys and take them to Denver. Marshal Cook will see that they receive justice for kidnapping you,” Morgan whispered.
Rilla had heard of David J. Cook, the chief of the Denver police force. He was famous as a counterespionage union spy during the war and had tracked down many criminals in the Wyoming territory including the murderous Musgrove-Franklin Gang.
“How are we going to do that without waking them?” Rilla asked.
“I’ve taken care of the one by the tree. Knocked him out with the butt of my pistol. We’ll tie him up, then get the other one. Just be real quiet since we don’t want to wake him.”
Once they’d secured Abram, they crept over to Leroy. Rilla could hardly contain her excitement. This was what she’d hired onto the Pinkerton agency to do. Take out men who would victimize women. That her first was going to be Leroy Bastion just made it that much better.
Morgan had given her his Colt revolver and she held it aimed at Leroy as Morgan tackled him. They wrestled with Leroy swearing until he was pinned under Morgan who was holding his arms against the ground.
“Ha, Leroy Bastion, take that,” Rilla yelled. “We’ve got you and you’re going to jail. You kidnapped me and you’ll pay for that.”
“Rilla,” Morgan said from holding Leroy down, “tie his hands together before you rail at him some more.”
“Oh, yeah.” Rilla set the gun down and wrapped some rope around Leroy’s wrists.
An Agent for Rilla (The Pinkerton Matchmaker Book 32) Page 6