and helpless.
“Please. Somebody.”
The thunder of hooves roared from somewhere in the distance. She sucked in a quick breath and scanned the area. Were more men out there?
Everything had happened so fast. How long had they been dragging her? How far into the woods was she?
All visual reminders of the pumpkin patch were long gone. No open fields or bales of hay. No bursts of orange dotting the landscape. No smells of animal fur and warmth. There was nothing familiar in her surroundings now.
Judging from the amount of blood and the relentless razor-sharp barbs digging into her flesh, she would bleed to death.
No. She wouldn’t die. Noah needed her to stay alive. Noah.
Anger boiled inside her, heating her skin to flames. Katherine had to save him. He had no one else. He was probably terrified, which could bring on an asthma attack. Without his inhaler or medication, the episode could be fatal.
Forcing herself to her feet, she balanced on her good side and hopped. Her foot was slick with blood. Her shoe squished. Her knees buckled. The cold, hard ground punished her shoulder on impact.
She scrambled on all fours and tried to crawl. The barbed wire tightened like a coil. The ache in her leg was nothing compared to the agony in her heart.
Exertion wasn’t good. Could she unwrap the mangled wire? Could she free herself? Could she catch up?
Panic pounded her chest. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears.
The hooves came closer. Had the men sent company? Had her screaming backfired, pinpointing her location?
Autumn foliage blanketed the ground, making it difficult to see if there was anything useful to use against another attacker. She could hide. But where?
The sounds of hooves pounding the unforgiving earth slowed. Near. She swallowed a sob. He could do whatever he wanted to her while she was trapped. Why had she made all that noise?
She fanned her hands across the ground. Was there anything she could use as a weapon? The best one encased her leg, causing a slow bleed. She needed to think. Come up with a plan. Could she use a sharp branch?
Biting back the pain, she scooted behind a tree and palmed a splintered stick.
The thunderous drumming came to a stop. The horse’s labored breath broke through the quiet.
An imposing figure dismounted, muttering a curse. His low rumble of a voice sent chills up her neck.
Her pulse raced.
His boots firmly planted on the ground, Katherine got a good look at him. He was nothing like her attackers. They’d worn dark suits and sunglasses when they’d ambushed her and Noah. Everything about this man was different.
He wore jeans, a button-down shirt and a black cowboy hat. He had broad shoulders and lean hips. At his full height, he had to be at least six foot two, maybe more.
A man who looked genuine and strong like him couldn’t be there for the wrong reasons, could he? Still, who could she trust? Couldn’t murderers be magnetic?
“What in hell is going on?” A shiver raced up her spine as he followed the line of blood that would lead him right to her.
He took a menacing step toward her. Friend or enemy, she was about to come face-to-face with him.
Katherine said a silent protection prayer.
Her equilibrium was off. Her head light. She closed her fingers around the tree trunk tighter. Could she hold on long enough to make her move?
A dimpled chin on a carved-from-granite face leaned toward her. Brown eyes stared at her. She faltered.
Nope. Not a hallucination. This cowboy was real, and she was getting weak. Her vision blurred. She had to act fast.
With a final push, Katherine stepped forward. Her knees buckled and she stumbled.
* * *
INONEQUICKmotion Caleb Snow seized the stick being jabbed at his ribs and pinned the woman to the ground.
She was gorgeous in her lacy white shirt. Her sea-green skirt hiked up her thigh far enough to reveal a peek of her panties. Pale blue. He swallowed hard. Tried not to think about his favorite color caressing her sweet little bottom as he wrestled to keep her from stabbing him. The rest of her was golden skin and long legs. She had just enough curves to make her feel like a real woman, sensual and soft. “What’s wrong with you?”
The tangle of chestnut hair and limbs didn’t speak.
Was she afraid? Of him? Hell no. He took the stick and tossed it. She kicked and punched.
“Hold still. I’m trying to help.”
“No. You’re not.”
“I will as soon as I’m sure you won’t try to poke me with that stick.”
He’d turned his horse the moment he’d heard the screams that sounded half wild banshee, half horror-film victim expecting to help, not be attacked.
“You’re hurting me,” she yelped.
The tremor in her voice sliced through his frustration. Her admission tore through him. The thought he added to her pain hit him hard. “Stop trying to slap me, and I’ll get up.”
Her lips trembled. She looked at him—all big fearful eyes and cherry lips—and his heart squeezed.
Those violet eyes stared up at him, sending a painful recollection splintering through his chest. She had the same look of terror his mother always had right before his father’d raised a hand to her. Caleb buried the memory before it could take hold.
“Listen to me. I’m not going to hurt you.” Her almond-shaped face, olive skin and soft features stirred an inappropriate sexual reaction. Skin-to-skin contact was a bad idea. He shifted more of his weight onto his bent knee.
Her breaths came out in short gasps. “Then let me go. I have to find him before they get away.”
“As soon as I know you’re not gonna do something stupid, I will. You’re not going anywhere until I get this off your leg. You want to tell me what the hell’s going on? Who’s getting away?” Her actions were that of a wounded animal, not a crazed murderer. He eased more weight off her, scanning her for other injuries.
She recoiled. “Who are you?”
“Caleb Snow and this is my ranch.” He picked up the wire to untangle her. Her pained cry pierced right through him. “Sorry about that.” He eased the cable down carefully. “Didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She’d seriously tangled her long, silky leg in barbed wire. She’d lost a lot of blood. He couldn’t have her going into shock. “The more you fight, the worse it’ll get. You’ve done a number on yourself already.”
Her eyelids fluttered.
Based
