She fervently hoped that he hadn’t been the one she’d shot at. But, then, that would only leave the giant and she really didn’t want him angry with her either.
“I’ll ask you once more and this time I’d appreciate an honest answer.” He paused to allow the importance of those words to sink in, his handsome face solemn and fierce at the same time. “What do you know of Ship Campbell?”
She pressed back into her captor’s chest, instinctively trying to distance herself from the gun. She might have imagined it, but his thumb traced lightly over the exposed skin of her wrist. The resulting involuntary shiver it caused unnerved her, so she jerked away, making him grasp her arms tightly. Instead of answering the question, knowing that her voice would only give her away, she shook her head.
The Spaniard sighed and looked down, shaking his own head at her. “Looks like we have an interesting night ahead.”
The deep voice at her back rolled through her. “The horses!”
At that, the giant walked out of the darkness and into her line of sight, holding the leads of all three horses. The dead weight of dread settled in her stomach, but she resolved herself to her fate. If they had followed her, then that meant they didn’t know where she lived and more than likely her sisters would be safe. If she could keep that information to herself until tomorrow, then Jake would find them alone at the farm by morning and take them back to the saloon. They’d be safer there with him.
She just had to make it through the night. The thought made her heart pound in her ears. These men wouldn’t give up until she told them whatever they wanted to know. They weren’t taking her to keep her tied up; they were taking her to force her to talk. She closed her eyes to fight back the treacherous tears that threatened. Whatever happened, she could endure it as long as she knew the children would be spared. She had to; they needed her.
The pretty one moved forward to his horse, a beautiful animal whose coat shimmered black in the moonlight with a pretty white star pattern between his eyes. What sort of outlaw owned such a magnificent creature? With the force of his body propelling her toward the horse whether she wanted to go or not, she didn’t have time to ponder the answer to that question. When they reached it, he stopped and looked down at her. She knew because his breath was suddenly very close to her ear, sending a strange tingle shooting through her, making her turn her head away to stop it.
“I can sit you in front of me without tying you down, if you promise to behave.”
“Go to the devil.” She bit the words out between clenched teeth.
His chuckle was anything but reassuring. Before she could anticipate his movement, he picked her up and sat her awkwardly across the saddle. When she would have kicked out, he grabbed her ankles and wrapped the length of rope hanging from her wrists around them, so that she was literally bound hands to feet. Then he mounted behind her and placed an arm securely around her waist and pulled her back against him.
His breath brushed her ear as he spoke. “We have a ways to go, so use the time to think hard about telling us the truth. No one wants you to get hurt.”
She almost scoffed, but held herself in check. Ship had brought home plenty of men like these. Ruthless men who wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her if it got them what they wanted. Though Ship had taken care of her and her sisters in his own way, by giving them shelter and the most basic of necessities, their lives with him were far from safe. She lived in constant fear of his enemies finding them at home alone, or even Ship’s own men becoming disgruntled and taking their anger out on one of them. It was bound to happen eventually and it looked as if it finally had. She hated to admit it, but if it meant keeping Rose and Ginny safe, she would have already given him and Pete up if she only knew where they were.
* * *
The ride to the abandoned miners’ shack took a little over two hours. Though she’d held herself stiff for the first hour so that she wouldn’t touch him any more than necessary, the girl had eventually relaxed into him. Hunter had to admit that he liked how that felt. He liked her in his arms, warm and soft, her faintly floral scent teasing his nose so that he was imagining far more of her body than he wanted to. Once or twice her ragged coat had fallen open, revealing the creamy flesh that her dress put on display. He’d pulled it closed both times, because it was cold and because he didn’t want to dwell on how much he liked looking at her. She was an attractive woman, but still, the way he wanted her was embarrassing. His loyalty to his brothers was more important to him than anything else. But this was asking too much.
It was almost with relief that he pulled up in front of the shack and dismounted. A glance at her face confirmed that the fear she’d been fighting had taken hold. Her eyes were wide with it and her hands trembled as he massaged them to ensure good blood flow. When she met his gaze, he had to look away from the force of it and remind himself that they were doing this for Miguel. Miguel, a stupid kid with a big heart who’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He didn’t deserve to be taken any more than she did. But there was no telling what that coward Ship Campbell had done to him, so if there was any chance at all that she knew where Miguel was, they had to find out.
Without a word to her, he easily lifted her over his shoulder and walked toward the shack they had staked out before heading into town. The word ‘shack’ was generous. It was a small, one-roomed affair, just large enough to keep a man out of the elements, with a crudely built hearth and place for a bedroll. If the four of them slept here tonight, they’d almost be shoulder to shoulder.
If Campbell hadn’t taken Miguel to retaliate for his pal’s death, Hunter would be at home in Helena by now surrounded by the luxury he’d once taken for granted, yet had come to appreciate in his years of riding with the gang. Their activities necessitated weeks camped outside and meals that were humble at best. The fact that Miguel had been kidnapped just after their last job, thus delaying his trip home, only angered him more.
Zane had already lit the lamp in the single room and was kneeling at the hearth to start a fire when Hunter walked in with her. No one was around to see their smoke, and even if there was, they’d be long gone before anyone came to check it out in the morning. Setting her on her feet, he took the knife from his belt and bent to cut the rope from her ankles and then her wrists. It only took a moment to jerk the old coat off her shoulders and down her arms, before catching her wrists again and tying them—despite her protests—and looping the end of the rope around the low rafter in the ceiling. She gasped when he pulled it tight so that her arms were raised high above her head and only her toes touched the ground. Though she didn’t say a word, her eyes were accusatory, making him feel like a bastard for putting fear into them.
He took a step back to get a good look at her in the light. Her dark hair had loosened so that it tumbled in disarray almost down to her waist. Her features were delicate and gentle, pretty in a wholesome way that wouldn’t normally hold very much attraction for him. He liked experienced women who expected nothing more than a fun night. But there was something more in her pretty face. A challenge. A secret. Something that made him want to study her longer.
His gaze caught hers and held as her eyes blazed at him, anger beating the hell out of the fear that was also there. It displaced but couldn’t completely hide her interest in him, lurking in their depths. Was she even aware that it was there shining out at him? No, she didn’t know what she was revealing to him. Her eyes were wide with an openness that was almost naive. It drew him in, even though he knew it couldn’t be real. She worked in a saloon. She knew men.
Turning on his heel with a muffled curse, he glared at Zane who was standing, having just finished with the fire. “Don’t touch her. She’s mine.” He’d meant that he would handle the interrogation, but the words felt too right. Too primal. This was a bad idea. Zane flashed
