Only in My Arms (22 page)

Mary couldn't find her voice. Aware of him to the point where she could be aware of nothing else, Mary could only nod. Her limbs ached with rigidity, but she couldn't make herself relax, couldn't imagine that she would be able to fall asleep.

"You have a great deal of courage," he said. His voice was thick, husky, just a shade louder than a whisper. His breath was warm, and it touched the back of her neck. "Perhaps too much."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Too much courage can make you foolish. Trying to mark the passage with a stone... that was foolish. And earlier... with the Henry rifle... that was foolish."

"I suppose it seems that way to you."

He wanted to shake her, make her see sense, but he was too tired. Except for the few hours of rest he'd grabbed when they'd first reached the cavern, Ryder had had almost no sleep in more than two days. Waiting for his sentence, then waiting for it to be carried out, had not been the stuff of dreams. "I don't want to hurt you, Mary," he said quietly. "I don't want to be responsible for you getting hurt."

"You're threatening me."

Ryder echoed her earlier words as he closed his eyes. "I suppose it seems that way to you."

* * *

Mary woke thirsty. She sat up and scooted forward before she felt the pull of the hateful tether. Ryder was still sleeping and didn't appear to be aware of the tug on the rope they shared. Mary looked at him, her smile scornful. She'd hardly dared moved because he'd made her believe he'd know it right away. The truth was a little bit different than that.

Asleep, he wasn't nearly so intimidating. His strong profile had softened. The lips, slightly parted, and the thick sweep of lashes made him seem young, even vulnerable. His dark hair had dried. An inky strand of it had escaped the thong and lay across his cheek. Mary was tempted to touch it, to push it aside. She resisted.

Instead she bent her head close to her wrist and began working the knots with her teeth. Not wanting to take unnecessary chances, she was careful not to disturb Ryder by pulling too hard on the rope. The knots were tight, but Mary was able to work them loose gradually. Eventually the loop around her wrist was large enough for her to slip her hand through.

She rubbed her wrist where the rope had burned her skin, then slid to the edge of the stone loft and eased herself down soundlessly. The bucket of fresh drinking water was near all the other foodstuffs. She dipped the ladle and drank from it. The water was cool and refreshing. A few droplets slipped past her lips to her chin. She wiped them away with the back of her hand.

Her eyes fell on Ryder's saddlebags. Putting down the ladle, she reached for them. She sifted through the contents. Liniment. A small pouch of tobacco. A deck of playing cards. Peppermint sticks. A sewing kit. Comb. Brush. A flask of alcohol. Three carefully folded bandanas. Mary took everything out and began packing the bags with jerky. She filled his canteen with water and set a sack of dried navy beans beside it.

After taking off the thick woolen socks she was wearing, she pulled on her stockings, then her shoes. When she took clothing from the line, it wasn't her habit she removed but Ryder's damp shirt and pants. They were ridiculously large for her slender frame, so Mary determinedly rolled up the sleeves and the bottoms of the trousers. She knotted two of Ryder's bandanas together to make a belt. The third bandana she wrapped around her head.

Mary then checked the lanterns, taking oil from several of them to fill one completely. She lighted it and immediately extinguished the lantern that Ryder had left burning. Hefting the saddlebags over her shoulder and carrying the lantern and the sack of navy beans, Mary walked boldly out of the chamber, plunging it into darkness.

* * *

Ryder couldn't see anything when he opened his eyes. The blackness of the chamber was total. Without light there was no chance that his eyes could adjust; there was nothing to reflect color or shape. He sat up and felt the blankets around him. Shaking his head to clear it, he swore softly when he realized Mary was gone. There was nothing attached to the rope. It dangled uselessly from his wrist.

Ryder tore it off and tossed it aside. He'd been more tired than he knew. Mary shouldn't have been able to get away from him, yet she had. He was soft, he thought. Months of confinement in the stockade had dulled his senses, and he hadn't counted on Mary's single-minded desire to escape him. At best he had considered her anger would become resignation. He wondered what prompted her to take so many risks. Coming to his feet, he decided it was something to think about.

Feeling around in the dark, Ryder finally put his hands on one of the lanterns. It took him long minutes to find the supplies and even longer to find matches. The sudden flare of light almost blinded him. There was enough oil left in the lantern to give him thirty minutes. To be safe he added more from a container hidden among the supplies.

Barefoot, carrying only the lantern, Ryder left the chamber in search of Mary. He didn't bother with any of the immediate side passages. He was confident she could get as far as the water closet without any difficulty. How she would go on from there, he wasn't as certain. She would have had to make a choice in another thirty yards and when Ryder came to the juncture he paused, looking for signs.

He lowered the lantern when something near the edge of the passage caught his eye. Ryder hunkered down and ran his fingers along the oddly shaped pebbles that were clustered together. They were all small, smooth, and similarly contoured. He picked one up and rolled it back and forth between his fingers.

"I'll be damned," he said softly. "Beans."

It was easy after that. Mary's trail was clearly marked. Ryder knew she had done it so she could retrace her own steps if necessary. It was good thinking except for the fact that she was being followed. He collected the beans as he went, filling his pockets.

He was amazed at the number of times she chose the right route. Ryder's map was in his head and in the nearly imperceptible markings on the stone walls. He had also been through the corridors hundreds of times over the years and was familiar with the pattern of twists and turns. Mary, on the other hand, was just plain lucky.

Following at a safe distance, Ryder waited for her luck to run out. When he saw the choice she had made after the long serpentine passage, he knew it had finally happened. He picked up the mound of navy beans at the entrance and went inside. The tunnel narrowed and angled upward. It was not dissimilar to the passage that ran parallel to it, but it would end abruptly in a spacious chamber with a single inaccessible exit that opened fifty feet overhead. The diameter of the opening was less than twelve inches. On the surface it appeared as a shadow among some rocks. From inside the chamber it seemed no larger than a saucer in the daylight; at night it was all but invisible.

Mary was moving carefully among the rocks in the chamber, looking for a way out, when Ryder appeared at the entrance. He glanced at the vaulted ceiling. It was night now. A lone star pinpointed the opening.

"Mary." He said her name softly, but it was enough. He saw her stiffen then stop in her tracks. "Come here."

She turned slowly and shook her head.

"There's no way out."

Even though his voice was a mere whisper she could hear him clearly. She opened her mouth to tell him he could go to hell.

Ryder placed a finger on his lips then pointed upward.

Mary glanced overhead and her breath caught in her throat. The roof of the chamber was alive with movement. Her knees threatened to give way as she realized what she was seeing.

Bats. Hundreds of them. Mary dropped the sack of beans and raised her hand to stifle a scream. She needn't have bothered. The worn, threadbare sack broke and the beans tumbled out, rolling along the rocks with the clatter of spilled coins in a banker's vault. There was a flurry of movement and a high-pitched squealing like nothing Mary had ever heard. Something fluttered in front of her face and then again at the periphery of her vision. She dropped to her knees as the bats soared and dove and whistled around her head.

Some bats took flight through the opening in the chamber. Dozens more flew past Ryder's head and out the passage. Ryder crouched, shielding his face and hair, then went for Mary. She was frightened but uninjured. He picked up her lantern, protected her with his body, and herded her out of the chamber. A frenzied tornado of bats swirled around them. They dipped and rushed. Their thin wings beat the air frantically. One flew past Mary's mouth. She cried out and held onto Ryder tightly. He half dragged, half carried her to the entrance, where he picked up the second lantern and led her quickly through the tunnel.

Mary had no opportunity to catch her breath or whisper her thanks. Ryder's features bore no expression. Only his gray eyes were stormy as he gripped her hand and led her swiftly through the passages back to their chamber. Once there he practically flung her inside.

Mary stared at him, waiting for the force of his anger, steeling herself to give as good as she got.

He set the lanterns down and then turned to Mary. He studied her raised chin, the fiercely defiant eyes. She had pulled the bandana off her head and was twisting it between her hands. It was the only sign that she had more fright in her than fight. He wondered what she expected from him.

He spoke calmly, deliberately. "Take off your clothes."

Chapter 7

Though he had said them quietly, Ryder's words seemed to echo in the chamber.
Take off your clothes... your clothes... your clothes...
Mary stared at him, not moving.

Ryder took a step toward her. There was nothing menacing or threatening in his approach, yet it prompted Mary to throw out a question as her first defense.

"Why?" she demanded.

His approach halted. He stared at her for a long moment. Her complexion was markedly paler now, and her hands had stopped twisting the bandana. Tension kept her body rigid and rooted to her spot. "I believe I've already told you that you don't have to understand my orders to obey them."

Mary sucked in a breath as if she'd been slapped. The first wave of anger had to pass before she trusted herself to speak. "There's something you should understand about me, Mr. McKay," she said quietly. "I obey no man unquestioningly. Blind obedience is for my God alone."

Ryder felt heat rush into his face as Mary's green eyes narrowed on him coldly.

Mary was satisfied with his reaction. "Now tell me why I should take off my clothes."

He held up a hand and began ticking off the reasons. "They're damp. They're mine. They don't fit you. They look ridiculous."

Mary stared at his hand. Four fingers had already come up and now the thumb was slowly being raised. "And?" she asked, her eyes going from his hand to his face.

"And I want you naked."

She blinked. Astonishment silenced her.

"You wanted to know," he said simply. As Ryder took another step toward her, Mary's hands flew to the first button of her shirt. He was careful not to smile as he walked past her.

Mary watched Ryder go to the clothesline and begin removing her habit and shift. She expected him to toss the items in her direction, even held out her hand to catch them.

Out of the corner of his eye Ryder saw the movement. He turned, his arms full, and looked at her outstretched hand questioningly. "Yes?"

Confusion showed in Mary's drawn brows. "Aren't you going to give me those?" she asked.

Ryder raised one thumb and wiggled it. "Reason number five. I want you naked."

She gaped at him.

Ignoring her, Ryder opened the trunk and tossed in her habit and shift. He plucked the towels off the line, folded them, and laid them on top. He found the valise, removed the clothes he had worn in the stockade, and added them to the items in the trunk. Glancing around the chamber, he saw a few more items that Mary might make use of and put them away as well. When he had gathered everything he closed the lid and sat on it. He looked in Mary's direction, his arms folded in front of him, his expression expectant. Her hand was still closed over the uppermost button of her shirt, and there was a dazed look to her luminous green eyes.

"Mary," he said calmly. "I want you to remove your clothes."