uneasy with the tension he sensed in his master. Patting his neck and murmuring gently to calm him, Hunter turned his attention back to the trail they were following. The drunk hadn’t known any more. If he had, he would’ve talked before Zane’s fist left him unconscious.
Zane was like that sometimes, too powerful for his own good, too caught up in protecting the family to allow anyone to threaten them. He was loyal to a fault. Generally that power and dedication made him excellent at his job. Men would spill what they knew at the sight of him, or at least with very little persuasion. Hunter cringed to think about using intimidation like that with the girl. Especially a girl who refused to talk because she legitimately didn’t know anything. She wasn’t a criminal. Her innocence wasn’t feigned. It was real. Her father might rob banks and outlaws, and ransom Cas’s younger brother, but that didn’t mean she’d had anything to do with it.
Or was it just simply his attraction that made him want her to be innocent of Campbell’s crimes? He wanted her. That much he had known from the second her gaze had connected with his. The attraction had hit him low, like a punch to the gut. And dammit if she hadn’t returned his interest. Raking a hand through his hair, he blew out a breath to clear his head. The last thing he wanted was to be involved with a Campbell, so it annoyed him that he found her intriguing.
He suddenly wanted to figure out why. Slapping the reins, he soon outpaced Zane and Castillo, his sharp gaze taking in the grasslands. There were copses of trees in the distance and if she’d made it that far then they might lose her. But some instinct—the same one that wanted her for his own—told him that they were very close.
After a minute or two, a movement caught his eye, but it was too shadowed to distinguish from the scenery. He might have disregarded it as unimportant had the moon not decided to aid in his pursuit and shine a shaft of light down on that particular spot. The ivory of her skin shone like a beacon in the night, as if the gods themselves were gifting her to him.
Smiling, Hunter set a path directly for her, anticipation already warming the pit of his belly.
Emmaline’s heart sank the instant she realized they were riding directly toward her. Panic threatened to overtake her, but she managed to keep a grip on herself. There were only two choices: fight them or run and hide. Neither of those seemed to have a chance in hell of working out in her favor.
If she ran, she could try to make it to the trees to hide, but even as she looked to confirm the distance she knew that she wouldn’t make it. It was too far; the very reason she had opted to hide in the grass. Transferring her grip from the locket to the old Smith & Wesson Schofield hidden in the pocket of her coat, she pulled it out. Like her coat, it was a castoff of Pete’s, given to her when he’d bought his new Peacemaker. Despite the scoundrels Ship and Pete sometimes brought home, she’d never had cause to shoot a man. She didn’t want to shoot one now. She had to get home to her sisters, and on the small chance the strangers didn’t already know where she lived, she wouldn’t risk leading them to her home.
Her hands shook as she slid bullets into the cylinder, wondering why she’d allowed her fear that it might go off on its own to stop her from keeping the damned thing loaded for emergencies. She counted each one as she did, a simple way to keep her mind focused on the task and not give in to the anxiety that threatened to overtake her. The bullets were cold in her fingers, making her realize that she’d forgotten her gloves back at the saloon. Finally loaded, she ran her thumb over a bit of rust as she pulled back the hammer, her hands shaking. She didn’t want to shoot anyone. Maybe if they realized she had a gun, they’d leave her alone.
Closing her eyes to steady herself, she opened them and raised her arms to aim. They must have seen her gun, because they split up, each taking a different direction. She frowned, but it hardly mattered, she just wanted them to leave. Aiming in the direction of the nearest one, making sure her aim was a bit high, she fired.
The shot left her ears ringing and her hands vibrating from the shock, but she’d missed. The rider changed directions, galloping off to her right. Readjusting her aim, she followed him, but he moved too fast for her to get a clear shot. Dammit! Knowing she might not get another chance, she pulled the hammer back anyway, but then the grass rustled very close to her left side. She swung back around to that side, but before she could even get a glimpse of who had approached, she was knocked off balance by a large body. The momentum sent them rolling together through the tall grass until they finally came to a stop. She had managed to keep a grip on the butt of her gun, and pulled her hand up immediately, only to have it slammed back to the grass.
In a blind panic, she fought, but he wrestled the gun from her and threw it away before pinning her wrists to the ground over her head. She bucked to get him off, but he settled the full weight of his torso on her, effectively stopping her fight. His heavy, muscular thighs on either side of hers held her virtually immobile. Only then, when she was trapped, did she look up into the face above her own. Of course it had to be the pretty one staring back at her, his expression fierce and angry.
“You could have killed someone!”
“You could have left me alone.” Though she knew it was useless, she struggled beneath him anyway.
“It was stupid thing to do. You’re outnumbered.”
“What would you have done? Waited patiently for three strange men to come and get you?”
A sliver of moonlight crossed his features, creating hollows below his high cheekbones and showing the anger that lit his eyes. He was livid, but he smirked at her remark. His lips parted a bit to reveal a flash of white teeth, a predator toying with his meal. A shot of fear darted through her belly and it was as exciting as it was terrifying. Or maybe it was the wicked excitement that terrified her. She couldn’t bear to acknowledge its existence, much less contemplate it. Jerking her gaze away, she held herself rigid beneath him and asked, “What will happen to me?”
Her question must have settled him, reassured him that she was accepting her fate, because he relaxed above her, his muscles softening just enough so that she felt the weight of him pressing her down even more. It wasn’t as unpleasant as it might have been. He’d settled into the ease she remembered from the saloon, tempering his fierce edge just a bit. “That all depends on you, sweetheart. If you cooperate, you’ll be fine.”
She almost believed him, but then he called for rope, his voice hard as it rumbled through her. A coil landed in the flattened grass near them. He moved off her then, to grab her upper arm and pull her up to her feet. Only then did she realize how her legs trembled as her knees threatened to buckle. He must have seen, because his voice gentled as he pulled her wrists in front of her to tie them together. “Cooperate and you won’t be hurt,” he reminded her.
But she couldn’t stand there docilely to let herself be bound. Every instinct within her urged her not to let them take her. So she pretended compliance until he gave his focus to the task of tying her wrists and then she elbowed him hard in the ribs and took off. Though he grunted at the impact, she barely got two steps before he pulled her back against his chest. He was tall enough that she fit tucked beneath his chin so that he could look down to finish the task. His arms held her pinned while he fit the noose around her wrists and tightened it before she could do more than yelp in surprise. Pressure built up in her chest, but she fought it down and stared at her bound hands. She’d never before felt so horribly helpless and vulnerable and angry, all at the same time. She’d done nothing to deserve this. Damn Ship and every outlaw she knew!
She pulled at the binding and struggled against her captor’s hold, but then the Spaniard walked up to them, holding her gun loosely in his right hand. It wasn’t a threatening
