Authors: Beth Williamson
He stared at her, his expression wavering from sympathy to confusion. Hope blossomed inside her. She pushed on.
“Please, Declan, you can come to Oregon with the wagon train, find your own new start. You do not need to return to Oliver Peck either.”
The sound of a horse startled both of them, then a body catapulted through the air, landing on her captor with a fierce growl. Frankie was jerked forward as the men grappled with each other. She barely recognized John Malloy, his face a mask of rage. He fought like a wild animal, punching with both fists, using his legs, knees, elbow and anything else to give him an edge.
Frankie tried to stay out of the way but each time Declan swung his left arm, she jerked forward. She flipped and landed on her back, then slid upwards onto Declan’s when he jumped on top of John.
Bam. Jerk. Bam. Jerk. Bam. Jerk.
She felt like a ragdoll, unable to stop the madness and helpless to untie her hands or help John. Declan’s elbow slammed into her breast and she screamed in agony as pain ripped through her, knocking the breath from her. He turned to look at her, shock on his face at the fact she was inches behind him.
John took advantage of the moment and threw Declan off him. Frankie landed in the dirt, rocks digging into her back. The big oaf landed on her legs, unmoving. She sucked in a tiny amount of air, enough to keep the gray wave at bay that threatened. Then she was able to breathe in a little more, then a third breath. The fourth breath was a full, deep one and she was giddy with air.
“Jesus, that man has a head like an anvil.” John spoke from the other side of Declan’s inert form. “My hands hurt like hell.”
Frankie’s anger surged again. Her wrists were now throbbing from the beating she hadn’t taken but endured. She managed to sit up using her elbows and looked over at John.
“You are a complete idiot.” She spat a mouthful of dirt tinged with blood. Even her teeth ached from being thrown around.
“You’re welcome.” He staggered to his feet and tried to brush off the dirt on his clothes.
“Before you finish grooming yourself, please untie,
Monsieur
Malloy.” She gestured to her hands.
His eyes widened and his expression went from shocked to embarrassed. “You were tied to him? The whole time?”
“Of course I was. You did not feel me flopping around behind him?” She blew a strand of hair from her cheek. “You beat me right along with him.”
John dropped to his knees and pulled a knife from his boot. “I’m sorry, Frankie. Really I am. I didn’t even think. God, I am an idiot.”
He sliced through the ropes and the blood rushed into her hands. She gasped at the combination of pleasure and pain, then grimaced at the condition of her skin. The rough rope had rubbed her skin raw. What she wouldn’t give for a canteen of cool water and some bandages to wrap her wrists with.
“We need to get out of here before he wakes up.” John helped her to her feet, avoiding her wrists, which she grudgingly appreciated.
“Wait, do you plan to simply leave him here?” She glanced down at Declan, looking less intimidating while bloodied and unconscious. “He was going to release me. You ruined it.”
“Honey, I seriously doubt he was about to let you go unless you were making his ears bleed with chatter.” He took her elbow. “Let’s go. We need to find shelter and get those wrists bandaged.”
“Shelter? Why are we not returning to the wagon train? My family must be worried.” She looked behind them, at the vast open plain and the horizon. She ached to be with her parents and sisters, to feel their love around her. Her throat grew tight, surprising her. Frankie wasn’t prone to softer emotions and the appearance of them was unwanted. She had no time for it.
“Yes, they’re worried, but we won’t reach them before dark, not on one horse.” He mounted his horse, then held his hand down to her. “So let’s find shelter and a horse for you, then ride west in the morning.”
It was a logical plan, one that made sense, but it didn’t mean she had to like it. Frankie glanced at Declan.
“What about
Monsieur
Callahan?”
“I think there’s a few small towns just east of here. Maybe we’ll find the law and send them back to pick him up. He’s too damn big for us to move.”
“Should we tie him?” She knew firsthand how strong Declan was. When he woke, he’d be after her, and John. He might even return to the wagon train and hurt her sisters.
John shook his head. “No, he deserves a fair chance against any critters who want to have him for supper.”
Frankie shook her head at John’s attitude toward the man he just tried to beat to death. Men were the most perverse creatures on the planet. She should wash her hands of the lot of them. For now, she would survive. Later she could rant and rave about the unfairness of life.
“I do not want him to bother us again.”
“For now, you’re going to have to trust me. He’s horseless and bleeding. We will beat him back to the wagon train or the law before he can get far.” John looked quite determined to have his way.
“I do not trust you but I do not appear to have a choice.” Although she wanted to argue, she reached up and took John’s hand.
Chapter Six
“Do you have any water?” Her voice was muffled against his back. In fact, her soft form molded to his, those incredible breasts pushed into his spine like a torture device. “I cannot rid myself of the grit in my mouth.”
He unhooked the canteen from the saddle and passed it to her. It was a good thing he wasn’t looking at her or his fury might rear its head again. She was covered in scrapes, bruises and blood, her clothing torn. He had a hard time tamping down the urge to go back and beat the snot out of Callahan again. There was no excuse, ever, for hurting a woman. Rage had coursed through John, driving him to overcome a man who had at least forty pounds on him and a longer reach.
Frankie was surprisingly quiet considering what she’d been through. He wanted to ask her so many questions, find out exactly what Callahan had done and why. But he kept quiet, letting her have her peace for now. Later on, he would find out what happened.
The sun had started to set an hour after they left Declan. John wasn’t pleased he’d been right about not catching up to the wagon train that day. He didn’t want to spend the night unprotected and in open country with a woman who drove him to distraction. Aside from the danger posed by her, there were four-legged and two-legged dangers to contend with.
John hadn’t been in this part of the territory for five years, but he was fairly certain there was a town within ten miles. It was barely a gathering of shacks if he remembered correctly. If they were lucky it was bigger, if they weren’t lucky, it was a dusty ghost town. Either way there might be someplace to spend the night that wasn’t in an open field.
The setting sun painted the horizon in fiery orange and red, as though it were burning in the late day light. John was glad to be heading east for a change, so he wasn’t blinded by the sunset. The canteen clunked against his hip and he took it from her.
“Better?”
“Marginally. I may need a lake to rid myself of the taste of the west on my teeth.”
He chuffed a small laugh. “It don’t taste good, that’s for sure. When my Pa would have me till up the soil in the spring for planting, it took about a week to get all that dust out of the nooks and crannies it settled in.”
A small pause. “You were a farmer?” She sounded skeptical.
“No, my Pa was a farmer. I worked on his farm until I left.” He shouldn’t have brought up his past or all the memories it brought with it.
“Tell me about it.”
“No.”
“Please tell me about it.”
“No.”
“Would it help if I ordered you to?”
“No.”
“
Monsieur
Malloy, you are aggravating. How hard is it to speak of your father’s farm? I know nothing of farming save what I have seen on the trip to Missouri. All you need to do is open your mouth and tell me about it.”
“No.”
She sighed. “You have another social engagement that cannot wait?” He saw her arm waving beside them as they rode. “A pressing appointment?”
“No, I just don’t want to talk about it.” He had spent so much time trying to forget, deliberately bringing it to mind was not a smart idea.
“You make my head hurt.” She thumped his back with one small fist.
“Same here.”
She thumped him a second time, then pressed her head and breasts against his back. It was comfortable and dangerous as hell. The warmth of her body combined with his own reaction woke up his dick, which stood up and took notice. Her hands were dangerously close to the growing problem in his britches. If she moved them any lower, she was going to find a whole lot more than saddle.
Frankie seemed so small and vulnerable, but to survive as she had attested to her inner strength. Frankie mumbled something against his back.
“I can’t hear you.”
She lifted her head. “I said thank you. For following me, for finding me and for doing what I failed to do.” Her voice had dipped low, husky with emotion.
“It’s my job to protect you. I failed. You don’t need to thank me. I should be apologizing to you.” It stuck in his craw that he had let the kidnapping occur, especially to the woman he had been kissing not long before she disappeared.
She was quiet for a minute before she spoke again. “The blame is mine, not yours. Thank you for what you did.” She tightened her arms around him and pressed her forehead to his back.
He could feel her shaking and wondered if she were crying. It would surprise the hell out of him if she did—Frankie didn’t seem to be a crying kind of woman.
“You okay?”
“I will be. I have not eaten all day and I believe I might be going into shock, or something similar.” She spoke so matter-of-factly, as though she were diagnosing herself.
“Jesus, Frankie, why the hell didn’t you say something?” He reached back into his saddlebag and grabbed the pouch of jerky he had. “Eat.”
Her hand shook as she took the bag. “Thank you.” Damn but her voice was small, unlike the proud little filly who’d shot him in Independence.
“Did you lose the petty mort gun? Or did it misfire again?”
“I did not have it with me. I was attempting to complete my morning wash and did not expect him.” She spoke around the jerky she was currently chewing. What woman would talk with food in her mouth? John loved her all the more for it.
His heart stuttered at the direction of his thoughts.
Loved her all the more for it?
What the hell?
“Um, yeah.” His brain didn’t appear to want to function.
“This dried meat is delicious. Better than what we have.” She blew out a breath. “I am going to stop now since my stomach is cramping. Please save some of this for later.” She handed him the bag and lay against him once more. Having her snuggled up like that was downright perfect. Something he could get used to.
Foolish man.
Within half an hour, the sun sank low in the sky. Orange and red saturated the land ahead, turning the horizon into a fiery scene. John wasn’t a man given to poetry, but there was a reason he picked this part of the country to settle in. It was as beautiful as the woman behind him.
An ache settled in his gut, one that told him he needed someone to share his dream with. A woman who would be at his side all his days and enjoy each sunset from their front porch. Oh, he was a foolish man for sure.
As the color began to fade from the sky, shadows danced around them. John squinted at something in the distance, recognizing the peak of a roof. Relief coursed through him. He wasn’t about to admit it to Frankie, but he had been worried about finding shelter.
They rode closer and he spotted about a dozen or so buildings, a corral with a few horses milling around, even a wagon parked behind one of the larger structures. It looked like a bona fide town and not just a collection of shitty shacks. His expectations notched up a bit at the sight.
“When we ride into town, let me do the arranging for a room.”
She sat up. “Town? You found a town?”
“Yep. I thought you might have seen the buildings rising up in the middle of the prairie.”
She pinched him under the arm and he jerked in pain and surprise. “I cannot see around your shoulders. They resemble a well-constructed wall.”
He laughed, he couldn’t help it. She was so full of sass. “You could always ride in front.”
A short pause before she responded. “I do not think that is a good idea, for several reasons I could not explain and still maintain my status as a lady.”
John patted her hand, keeping another burst of laughter contained. “Your status is safe. It is a town and we found shelter for the night.”
“
Merci, Dieu
.” Her grip tightened on his waist. “What do you mean let you do the arranging for a room? Will there be a single room for both of us?”
He didn’t want to argue with her. The woman had it in her head that she could do anything he could. It just wasn’t true. There were things men were better at and there was no getting around that fact. “Do you have money to pay for a room?”