Jase all but elbowed Wes out of the way so he could lift Lucinda into the buggy, letting his hands linger a little longer than necessary around her waist. “I’ll call over and see you on Monday.”
Lucinda clapped her hands. “You can take me into town and we’ll try out the new diner.” Jase gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek.
When Ryan lifted her up on to the seat, he kissed her on the mouth. All for Wes’ benefit. Becky sensed the anger Wes dared not show. No-one tangled with the sheriff and got away with it. There was a hard ruthlessness about Ryan. He would make a formidable enemy. Goosebumps pebbled her skin.
“Goodnight ladies.” Ryan stepped back a pace and rested one hand on Jase’s shoulder.
Wes slapped the horse’s rump with the reins and they moved off. Becky turned to wave, but the darkness had swallowed the two men up.
She ran her tongue across her lips and savored the taste of Ryan’s mouth.
“When do you plan to get married?” Lucinda asked.
“I’m not sure, we haven’t set a date yet.”
“Well, don’t expect me to pay for it,” Wes growled.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Watch that mouth of yours gal, or I’ll give you a backhander.”
“We could have a double wedding,” Lucinda butted in. “What do you think, Pa?”
“Jase hasn’t asked permission for you to wed yet.”
“He will,” Lucinda said confidently. “The sheriff is a good looking man, and ...”
“He’s no good,” Wes cut her off. “Even Vaughan says so. Was a bounty hunter and a gunslinger. God alone knows how many men he’s killed.”
“He’s the sheriff now,” Becky defended him, although his past history filled her with dread.
“Only because he’s quick on the draw,” Wes growled. “I could have his badge just like this.” He snapped his fingers.
“Pa, I think he’s so brave for keeping the town safe.”
“He lives by the gun and he’ll die by the gun,” Wes said.
They lapsed into silence. A million stars twinkled around them, and a fat old moon hung over the distant mountains.
It would take them an hour to get home. Becky was exhausted. She always went to bed early so she would be able to get up early to milk the house cows, light the stove and prepare breakfast for Wes. He was even more short-tempered in the mornings, his caustic tongue flailing her mercilessly, telling her how worthless and ugly she was. Always complaining, never satisfied with anything she did.
She had once overheard him telling his men she was a dirty whore. Any wonder they rarely spoke to her and kept their distance. She would marry Ryan Mulligan to get away from this life, but he didn’t want to settle down with one woman. If he gave her money like he promised, she would leave Blackwood and never return.
“You’re coming out with me tomorrow. I want to collect horses from that widow woman,” Wes growled at Becky.
“It’s Sunday,” Lucinda protested.
“Same as any other day to me. I want those horses. We’ll spend the night on the trail.”
‘Couldn’t you have given the poor woman time to try and sell the place before you called in the mortgage?” Becky asked.
“No.”
“But her husband isn’t even cold in his grave yet, and she has three little children.”
“Makes no difference to me. She can’t pay what they owe, so the place and everything on it belongs to me.”
“I want Becky to alter my new gown,” Lucinda whined. “Please, Pa. You know I’m scared of staying at the ranch on my own, especially at night.”
“All right, she can stay with you, but sunrise Monday, she heads off to meet us on the trail.”
Becky hated the way they spoke about her as if she wasn’t there. I have to get away from here she thought desperately. But how?
“Thank you, Pa.” Lucinda moved closer to her father and rested her head against his arm. “It will be fun, two sisters spending time together.”
“Stepsister,” Wes snapped. “And don’t ever forget it. She only stays here because I’m a charitable man.”
Becky bit back the angry retort, you only let me stay here so you can get free labor. She didn’t speak the words out loud, she was too weary and dispirited to argue with him tonight. Besides, he held all the winning cards in the pack and they both knew it. Things couldn’t go on the way they were, she couldn’t take much more of his harshness. He was cruel, getting more vicious with each passing day. Was he going loco?
Chapter Four
On Sunday, Becky rose early to prepare Wes’ breakfast.
He stalked into the kitchen. “Lazy varmints,” he snarled. “Complained because I asked a couple of them to come with me and they refused. I fired both of them.”
She didn’t blame the men for objecting. It was the only day of the week they got off, and it was the Sabbath.
Wes shoveled down the bacon and eggs she placed before him and guzzled two cups of coffee. “Tomorrow after we get back here, you’ll be helping yard some of those horses.”
He stomped off, slamming the kitchen door behind him.
Mid-afternoon, Becky was in the parlor doing the alterations to Lucinda’s gown. The front door banged open. Booted feet and jangling spurs echoed in the hallway. She jumped to her feet, letting the sewing slide to the floor.
Three masked men charged into the room. One of them grabbed Lucinda by the arm and pulled her out of the chair.
“Leave my sister alone,” Becky yelled, kicking out at the man. His backhander across the face almost flattened her, but she kept her footing. A third man grabbed her arms and twisted them up her back until she screamed with pain.
“This is Wes Carstair’s ranch,” Lucinda screamed. “He’ll kill you if you hurt me.”
“He’ll pay handsomely to get his gals back.” The tallest man gave an evil chuckle.
Within minutes they were trussed up like Christmas turkeys. Sacks were placed over their heads. A gun barrel or something similar was rammed into Becky’s back, and she was marched out on to the porch. She heard Lucinda crying, pleading to be released.
Becky fell down the steps and someone kicked her in the ribs, before hauling her to her feet. Muted light filtered through the sack. She was roughly lifted up and dumped into the back of what she suspected was a wagon as she felt the hardness of wood against her back.
Who were these men? How did they know the two of us would be in the ranch house alone?
“I’m frightened.” Lucinda sobbed the words out. “They’ve tied my hands so tightly.”
“I’m frightened, too, but crying isn’t going to do us any good. We have to think of a plan for escape.”
“Escape!” Lucinda screeched.
“Shut up, or we’ll gag ya,” one man snarled.
“There will be no escape,” another joined in. “I’ll put a bullet in ya if ya try anything stupid like that.”
“We’re going to die,” Lucinda wailed.
“Be quiet,” Becky hissed. “Do you want to get us killed?”
The sharp words caused Lucinda to sob again. “I don’t want to die.”
Becky heard a thud followed by silence. Lucinda had been knocked out or killed. She clenched her teeth to cut off a scream of terror. These men were ruthless, obviously prepared to murder them if necessary. Sweat broke out on her body. She could feel the dampness, yet her limbs were ice cold. Fear lodged in her stomach and lay there, heavy as a rock. Lucinda was weak and useless, it was up to her to find a way to escape. If Wes didn’t pay up they were doomed.
The wagon started to rock and sway as it picked up speed. “Ya, ya,” the words were peppered with virulent curses and the snapping whistle of a whip being vigorously applied.
She was thrown from side to side, sometimes against Lucinda, other times crashing against the wooden sides of the wagon. If the outlaws didn’t kill them, they could still die by being flung out on to the ground. The further from the ranch they got, the less cha
nce they would have of escape. Every bone in her body screamed in protest, her head ached and her throat was dry.
The wagon finally slowed down, but the bumping didn’t. Stones crunched under the wheels. They were obviously off the road. If she had to hazard a guess, she would say their destination was the canyon country of the badlands.
What if Wes paid the money and the men wouldn’t release them? The fact that they had sacks over their heads might be a good thing. They couldn’t recognize their captors or see where they planned to hide out.
It grew hotter and harder to breathe, even though there was a hole cut out near her nose and mouth. Never again would she take fresh clean air for granted.
Lucinda moaned. At least she was still alive. I could just about kill for a drink of water.
The rope binding her wrists bit into her skin. It was probably rubbed red raw. She wriggled and twisted her hands, desperately trying to reach the knotted rope that bound her wrists behind her back. Had they purposely tied the rope tight to inflict the maximum amount of pain, or were her wrists swollen?
They had not tied her legs; had it not been for the sack over her head, she would have tried to throw herself over the side of the wagon now the horses had slowed down. Their best chance of getting away now was to wait until they arrived at their destination. Hopefully the ropes and sack might be removed, and they could take a chance and make a run for it.
Time passed, Becky had no idea how much. Her throat was so dry and scratchy it would be difficult to talk. Tears pricked her eyes then tumbled out and rolled down her cheeks. She tried diverting her attention by recalling the happy times when her mother was alive. She couldn’t remember what her father looked like; she had only been a toddler when he’d been killed in a drunken brawl.
“He was the biggest mistake of my whole life,” Ma once said. “But, oh what a good looker he was. The handsomest man I ever saw.”
While her mother lived Wes treated her reasonably well, she received the same as Lucinda. Only after her death did he turn mean. About six years ago a disgruntled cowboy had hit him on the head with a lump of wood, and from then on his meanness turned into outright viciousness, although he was always careful to hide the fact that he treated her like a slave. Not that any of the townsfolk cared about her. Wes had been clever. Subtle hints here and there about her morals, or rather lack of them. “She has her father’s bad blood,” he always said.
He owned half the town, which ensured that his word was law. One of the few men who dared to defy him was Ryan Mulligan. He obviously didn’t care whether he remained as sheriff or not. He could make a good living with his gun. She would be loco to think he would ever marry her. His rugged good looks gave him access to as many women as he wanted, and according to Jase, he availed himself of as many as he could. A surge of annoyance ripped through her. No, it was jealousy. She had to be honest now as she could be meeting her maker at any moment, and to do so with lies in her heart and on her lips, was sinful.
“Becky,” Lucinda wailed. “You still there?”
“Yes,” she croaked. “Where would I go?” She would have laughed at the idiotic question if her throat wasn’t so dry.
“Tell them to stop,” Lucinda said. “I need to pee.”
“They wouldn’t listen.” She moved her legs until they made contact with Lucinda’s. “You’ll have to hold on.”
“I can’t,” she wailed. “I never could.”
“Listen to me.” Becky’s voice was so husky she hardly recognized it. “If we cause any trouble, they’ll kill us. You’ll have to hold on, or if you can’t, just do it.”
“My clothes will get wet.”
Becky couldn’t believe a grown woman could carry on in such a childish fashion. She obviously had no real concept of the perilous position they were in. She had never been very bright. Didn’t need to be with her beauty and Wes’ wealth. I’d have been better off being kidnapped on my own. Lucinda’s pettiness and selfishness was a liability, which could get them both killed.
“Shuddup,” a male voice growled.
“I will not. My pa will see that you all hang,” Lucinda shrilled.
“Be quiet.” Becky kicked her on the leg.
“Yeah, listen to ya big sis and shuddup.”
These men seemed to know a lot about them. How did they know Wes and most of the men would be gone, and they would be alone in the house? It must be someone who knew them. A disgruntled cowboy Wes had kicked off the ranch? Someone related to the widow woman he was evicting? Wes had a lot of enemies, even though most of them wouldn’t dare let him know their true feelings.
On and on they travelled. Becky’s head throbbed, her body ached and the moisture in her mouth dried up. Fear ate into her with the ferocity of a ravenous dog.
Lucinda must have fallen asleep or slipped into unconsciousness. She wasn’t dead thank goodness as her body felt hot. The sheet of canvas covering them offered some protection from the fierce rays of the sun, otherwise she would have kicked it off. Every now and again she used her feet to push the canvas up so more air would flow into them.
Exhaustion finally overtook her. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to relax and shut out the horror and fear.
A sudden jarring halt jolted her awake. What Becky had hoped was a nightmare was in fact a shocking reality. She and Lucinda had been kidnapped. They were being held for ransom by God alone knew who. Icy fingers played up and down her perspiration soaked back.
“Get them out,” someone ordered.
Becky felt the canvas being lifted away. She was dragged from the wagon by the legs and pushed to the ground. Landing on her knees, she stayed there.
“My pa will kill you for doing this to me,” Lucinda shrilled. “You low down vermin.” Becky heard the slap and Lucinda dropped to the ground, almost flattening her in the process.
Becky was pushed and prodded along. The ground was rough. Pebbles dug into the soles of her shoes. She heard the whine of rusty hinges. A vicious shove in the back sent her sprawling on to a hard floor. Dirt flew up into her mouth even though it was partially covered by the sack. She tasted the grittiness.
A thud was followed by a moan, so she knew Lucinda had been tossed in beside her. Thankfully, still alive.
“Please, can we have some water?”
“Don’t remove the goddamn sack,” someone snarled.
“They’ll die in this heat then we’ll get nothing for them. I didn’t agree to murder. Here.” A canteen was pushed against her lips. She gulped the liquid down. The man holding the canteen sounded younger than the others.
“All right, remove the goddamn sacks, and untie them, but keep ya face covered, we don’t want them recognizing us. If they behave themselves and Wes pays up, we’ll let them go.”
There were at least four men she decided, going by the different voices as they argued with each other. She strained her ears trying to recognize any of the voices but couldn’t.
Rough hands untied the ropes and whipped off the sack. They were in a dilapidated shack with a dirt floor and boarded up windows. The door stood open, but once it closed the only light getting in would be whatever filtered through the cracks in the wall, and the few holes in the roof where wooden shingles had fallen off.
“Could you leave the canteen so my sister can have a drink? I’ll try to wake her. I think she’s unconscious.”
The young man had a bandanna tied around his face, and with his hat pulled down she could only see his frightened blue eyes. This was the weakest link and she had to exploit it. Surprisingly, he dumped the canteen on the ground and followed the others out. The door slammed shut and she heard a bolt being slid into place.
She crawled over to Lucinda who was slumped on the floor and removed the sack covering her face and untied her hands. “Wake up.” Her gentle shake elicited a groan. She splashed water on to her sister’s ashen face. “Wake up, please wake up.”
“What happened? Where am I?
Becky clapped her hand across Lu
cinda’s mouth to cut off the scream she knew was ready to spew out.
“Listen to me. If we are going to escape these varmints, we have to get smart. Not antagonize them.”
“When my father gets hold of them he’ll…”
“Be quiet. If you don’t stop threatening them, it won’t matter whether Wes pays up or not. That kind of talk will get us killed.”
Lucinda’s face turned even whiter than it already was.
“Here, drink this water. There’s a young man who must have been waiting here for them. He was the one who gave us the water, got our hands untied. We have to work on him.”
“Work on him? What do you mean?”
Becky wanted to scream in frustration. She had never realized exactly how stupid Lucinda was.
“Even dirty and bedraggled, you’re still beautiful. Play on that, flirt with him. Let him think you like him.”
“I will not.” She screwed her nose up in disgust.
“Listen to me.” Becky was tempted to slap her. “Do you want to die?”
“No. No,” she blubbered.
“Well, do what I say. If we can get him on side, he might help us in some way.”
“Couldn’t you kick the wall in, Becky? It’s old and some of the boards are broken.”
“Even if I could, where would we go? I’ve got no idea where we are, but the ground is rough and dry. Even if we got out of here, without a horse we’d perish. We have to bide our time. Try and find out where we are. How far from Blackwood it is. When the young one comes in flutter your eyelashes at him. Do whatever you do when you’re introduced to men. They all fall for you.”
“They’d fall for you if you were more ladylike and presented yourself better.”
“How can I be feminine when your father makes me work outside like a cowhand? I don’t have any gowns except a few of your cast-offs.”
“But…”
“Look.” Becky wanted to shake her sister until her teeth rattled. “Who cares about that now? We have to use whatever is available to us, and at the moment it’s you.”
Lucinda guzzled the water from the canteen.
“Don’t drink it all at once.”
The Sheriff's Outcast Bride Page 3