Magnificent Passage (6 page)

“Noooo!” she cried, slamming the door in their faces and throwing the bolt. She could hear their voices through the planking.

“Damn! We should have known better,” said Long.

“Now we'll have to break in,” grumbled Langley.

Mandy dashed for the window, lifted the sash, climbed over the sill, and slid to the ground, running out through her tiny garden and off toward the stables. She knew they would catch up with her, but she needed to give Julia time to get to Jason. Her heart beat wildly. She couldn't believe she was actually doing this. And now she had Travis Langley to contend with. Of all the bad luck!
How could fate have sent someone she'd met before?

Hawk wedged a steel-hard shoulder against the pine boards of the door. The wooden latch snapped easily, propelling him into the room. James followed close behind. Chintz curtains billowed through an open window, making it clear the lady had escaped.

“You follow her. I'll circle around and cut her off,” Hawk directed. James nodded and ran for the window as Hawk made his way back out the front door. It would be easy for him to overtake her small stride. Hawk's temper flared as he pictured the disheveled young woman with the ample bosom, chestnut hair, and wide green eyes he'd glimpsed
through the crack in the door. She was definitely not the child-woman he'd expected. Her breathtaking appearance had caught them both off guard. He wouldn't let it happen again.

As soon as the men departed, Julia slipped out the back door, behind the shed, and off toward Jason's quarters. She stopped only once—to leave a note on Mrs. Evans's door. No one seemed to be around as she hurried to tell Jason of their dilemma. It would be dark in a few hours. If they could get to their wagon and out of town by cover of night—and if Mandy played her part well—they might have a chance.

Mandy ran pell-mell up the dusty path, the full skirts of the dress scattering dirt and pebbles.
She had to do it. She had to. Had to.
She chanted the words in rhythm to her running feet. She had to do it for Julia. She had to do it for herself.

She passed a flowering bougainvillea and glimpsed the whitewashed walls of the stable. Where in heaven will I go from here? she thought. Running as fast as her tiny feet would carry her, she glanced over her shoulder to see if she was being followed. She rounded the corner of the stables at a breakneck pace and slammed headlong into a solid object. The sudden stop left her breathless and dazed. She was breathing hard from her effort, her legs shaky, her body trembling. She knew she should have fallen, but something was holding her up. She couldn't seem to get her bearings. She steadied herself, closed her eyes, and waited for the spinning to stop.

When she opened her eyes again, her heart raced even harder than before. Her gaze traveled from a wide, muscular
chest to the hard lines and tanned features of the man who imprisoned her in his arms. Travis Langley! She'd know that face anywhere.

She remembered his hard, cold eyes, and her instincts warned her to free herself, run away, forget the whole crazy scheme. Hysteria threatened to overwhelm her. She had to get away. God only knew what punishment Langley would mete out when he discovered what she and Julia had planned. She struggled against him, but he held her easily, his gaze steady, mesmerizing her with its intensity.

She swallowed hard, beginning to feel faint again. Should she tell him who she was, forget their plan? Instead she straightened in his arms and tried to control her trembling. He hadn't said a word; he just held her immobile. He seemed to be enjoying her discomfort. A slow, lazy smile curved one corner of his mouth.

“Let me introduce myself, Miss Ashton. I'm Travis Langley. Your father sent me to deliver you to California, safe and sound. I intend to do just that.”

The more she calmed herself, the more she realized he hadn't the faintest idea of their former meeting. He really thought she was Julia. He'd never given Samantha Ashton the slightest thought in the last few years, while she'd wondered about him often. The realization raised her hackles and sent a surge of spirit through her veins.

He really thinks I'm Julia! she fumed. Well, fine, Mr. Langley. You want Julia, you've got her. She threw herself into her role and tried to think what Julia would do, her success giving her courage.

Taking a deep breath, she clenched her teeth and kicked the big man hard in the shins. He didn't flinch, but his
smile faded and his grip tightened even more. She knew the kick hurt her more than it did him, with his tough rawhide leggings, but he shook her just the same.

“You little hellcat,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “Do that again and I'll kick you back.” The tightness around his mouth confirmed his threat.

Mandy could feel the blood drain from her face.
How could she travel all the way to California with this cruel, overbearing man?
All the ugly memories of Davey Williams and the tough man in buckskins resurfaced, haunting her. He was hard and uncaring, and if she didn't admit the truth about her identity, she'd be forced to spend weeks on the trail with him. God only knew of what the man was capable.

She opened her mouth to speak, then thought of Julia and Jason. She'd given her word, promised to help them elope. She had to go through with it.

He smiled down at her mirthlessly. “You'd better learn to behave like a lady, Miss Ashton . . . or I might forget I'm a gentleman. We've got a long trip ahead of us. You'll do yourself a favor if you start doing exactly what I say. You'll find I'm not as easily pushed around as your Sacramento dandies.”

Of all the gall!
The man had to be the biggest bully she'd ever met. She wanted to stand up to him, tell him exactly what she thought of him, but her instincts warned her against it. She could feel his hard thighs even through the thick folds of her skirt and shuddered involuntarily in the circle of his arms, suddenly afraid to move a muscle. Swallowing hard, she stared woodenly at the unyielding features of the big, broad-shouldered man. She felt completely helpless for the first time in her life.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Langley,” she choked out, trying to continue her facade but uncertain whether she'd succeeded. Now it was even more imperative to act the part of her cousin. Travis Langley might have a sudden return of memory.

Hawk eased his hold but kept her securely entrapped in his arms.

“Now that's a whole lot more like it. You just settle down, and we'll head back up to the house. You can pack a few things, and we'll get on the trail before the whole fort comes out to defend you.”

He'd been lucky so far. Few people had observed their scuffle, and those few didn't seem to be too interested in getting involved with someone his size. He chuckled as he thought of the buckskins he wore, and the gleaming bowie knife strapped to his leg. Most folks would rather not tangle with someone they were certain was a renegade half-breed.

“You'd better be careful, sir,” Mandy heard herself say, not believing the words were her own. “You'd best remember who you're dealing with.” Now that her captor had eased his hold, some of her acting lessons returned. She decided she'd better continue before her courage lagged again.

“You'll have to answer to my father if you lay one hand on me.”

Hawk glanced down at the tiny girl pressing her slim hands defiantly against his chest. Her bosom heaved above the low-cut neckline of her dress, and her chestnut hair tumbled wildly about her shoulders.

“Your father gave explicit instructions to use whatever force necessary to get you back to Sacramento City, including trussing you up like a sack of potatoes, if necessary.” He
couldn't resist embellishing the governor's words a little. He hadn't wanted to take this assignment in the first place. The idea of wrangling the governor's spoiled and selfish daughter all the way to California provoked him sorely—even more now that he discovered how attractive she was.

“But he couldn't have . . . he wouldn't . . .” Mandy sputtered. She couldn't believe she'd heard correctly. Surely Governor Ashton would never allow these men to harm his own daughter. It was the one thing she'd taken comfort in.

“Oh, but he did. Now let's get moving.” He grabbed her arm and tugged her unceremoniously back toward the house.

Mandy grabbed her skirts with her free hand and followed the tall, brawny man up the path. God, how could she ever have agreed to Julia's scheme? As she stared at the muscular back of the man ahead of her, she wondered whether she had the courage to go through with it—and whether Julia's happiness would be worth it. Then she thought of her dismal muslin dress stuffed in the bureau drawer, thought of the last five miserable years she'd spent at the fort.
California.
She could make a life of her own there. She had to remember that.

As the couple neared the cottage, Mandy could see Sergeant Dickerson on the porch, inspecting the splintered latch. A pulse in her temple sounded the alarm. Someone must have heard the commotion and summoned the sergeant. Now what was she supposed to do? He would surely recognize her and ruin their plans!

The tall man in the dusty suit had already reached the porch, confident, it seemed, in his partner's ability to drag their charge, however reluctantly, back to the house.

Mandy's only hope was to brazen it out. She pulled free of the big man's grip and marched right past the sergeant. She moved to the window and presented her back to the room. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see the man in black pulling an official-looking document from his breast pocket. He began explaining his mission and appeared to be showing the sergeant the governor's signature and official seal. Mandy kept her back to the sergeant as much as possible and prayed he wouldn't notice how short “Julia” had become in the last few hours.

Agonizing minutes passed. At last the sergeant seemed satisfied. He tipped his hat, drew up his large frame, and headed toward the door. With a simple “Ma'am,” he was gone.

Relief washed over her like a warm spring rain. That was the second time she'd succeeded in her role. A little more confident, she threw back her shoulders, headed into the bedroom, and began throwing one thing after another violently into a satchel. Playing a spoiled child certainly took a lot of energy.

James and Hawk had hoped to spend a couple of days at the fort, cleaning up, buying supplies, and resting a bit before heading back to Sacramento City. Now, with the sergeant having his doubts, and after having a taste of what was in store for them from their charge, they decided the best course of action was for James to get the needed supplies and meet Hawk and the girl at a point outside the fort. Then they could ride for three or four hours before making
camp. The farther they could get away from the fort, the better.

“Hurry up in there. We haven't got all night,” Hawk commanded. He watched her carefully from the parlor. The little minx had made a fool of him once; he wasn't about to let it happen again.