Heart of Thunder

by Johanna Lindsey

  “Perhaps your country estate?”

  Sheldon shook his head. “She hates Blackstone. Always has.”

  Hank ran his hands through his hair, his frustration growing. How long had Samantha planned this? Or had it been planned? The open wardrobe caught his eyes. It was full of gowns. But of course she would want to travel light. She had probably taken only a few things. Her vanity table was cluttered with powders, combs, pins, and fragrance bottles. A small chest was there, as well, and Hank moved to it.

  “What are you doing?” Sheldon asked.

  Hank opened the chest and frowned. “She has left her jewels behind.”

  “All of them?”

  “This chest is full.”

  Hank moved to the bureau and opened drawers urgently. He stopped when Samantha’s gun stared up at him and her words echoed in his mind. “It goes wherever I go…wherever I go.”

  Chapter 46

  IT was pitch black in the carriage. What little moonlight there had been was gone because of all the overhanging trees. Samantha couldn’t begin to guess what road they were on.

  Froilana was crouched on the seat next to her, holding Jaime to her breast. Jean Merimée sat across from the two women. They had no idea who was driving.

  There had been nothing she could do when Froilana woke her and she saw Jean holding a gun to Jaime’s head, the baby cradled in his left arm. He had ordered Samantha to gather a few clothes. She ought to have gone to the bureau first. She had a gun there. But as soon as she had grabbed a few dresses, Jean had ordered her and Froilana from the room. She couldn’t argue. He was extremely nervous as it was, nervous and angry because Froilana had surprised him by sleeping in Jaime’s room. He was forced to bring Froilana along, which he hadn’t counted on.

  They had moved through the silent house without alerting anyone, Samantha praying every moment that someone would awaken. But no one had heard them, and soon they had reached the carriage house to find a tall, pathetically thin man waiting for them and the carriage ready to go.

  Jean would answer no questions. He was a different man then, curt, perhaps frightened. He kept watching the road behind them until they had left London behind. The horses slowed to a moderate pace because of the darkened road. How the driver could see at all was a mystery to Samantha.

  She pulled her robe tighter over her nightgown. Jean hadn’t let her change. How embarrassing it would be if, come morning, they arrived someplace with her and Froilana both in their robes and nightgowns! And what on earth was she doing worrying about that when she didn’t even know why Jean had kidnapped them?

  A kidnapping—again. But this time she didn’t have only herself to worry about. She tried to see Froilana’s face, but couldn’t. Miraculously, Jaime had slept through it all. Her little angel, looking so like Hank except for the vivid green eyes. Their baby.

  She wished desperately that Jean had not brought Jaime. He could have demanded ransom for her alone from either Sheldon or her father. But maybe Jean wanted some of Hank’s money, as well. Hank might not ransom her, but he would give all he had for Jaime. Damn Jean! How could he be so despicable? And how long before this would be over and she could go home?

  As if in response to her silent question, Jean rapped on the side of the carriage with his cane, and they slowed to a halt. “Get out,” he ordered tersely.

  “Where are we?”

  “Just do as you’re told, Samantha.”

  His tone didn’t leave room for argument. It was a little lighter outside the carriage, but not much. They were in a forest, and a quick look in all directions revealed nothing else. No houses, just more trees. Where were they?

  “Sam, there is nothing here,” Froilana whispered to her, standing nervously by her side, holding the baby.

  The terror in her voice was catching, and Samantha steeled herself. “I know, Lana. Don’t worry.” She tried to soothe her, but her heart was beginning to race. Suddenly their clothes were tossed at them.

  “Put something on,” Jean said curtly. “You can’t be found in your night clothes.”

  Found? “Why have we stopped here, Jean?”

  “This is as far as we need to go.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Of course you don’t. But soon you will.” Then he shouted to the driver. “Peters! Hurry up before someone comes this way!”

  Peters was climbing down from the carriage, and Samantha began shaking as a deeper fear took hold of her.

  “Jean, for God’s sake! What is this about?” she cried, moving closer to Froilana and Jaime.

  “It really is quite a shame, Samantha,” Jean sighed, sounding genuinely regretful. “I don’t want to do this, but I really must.”

  “Must do what?” Samantha cried.

  “No need to get hysterical. Peters has promised to do it quickly and painlessly.”

  “What?”

  “Kill you, of course.”

  “Madre de Dios!” Froilana shrieked.

  “You can’t be serious, Jean,” Samantha said, suddenly calm. She had passed the point of fear. “For what reason?”

  “Money,” he stated evenly.

  “But I don’t…” She stopped, understanding dawning. “You mean the money coming to Jaime? You would kill us just to get Teresa half the money from the Blackstone estate?”

  “Not half, my dear, though we could have lived comfortably on half, I suppose.”

  “We?”

  “Now don’t pretend you haven’t guessed, Samantha,” he said with a degree of impatience. “Sheldon is too naive to be suspicious, but you’re not.”

  “You and Teresa?”

  “Exactly.”

  “But where do you fit in, Jean?” Samantha asked. “She is to marry my brother. Will you be content to be just her paid lover?”

  “Teresa was right. You are a bitch. But, no, your dear brother will meet with an accident later on. That was our plan all along. It’s too bad you and the boy got in our way. This wouldn’t have been necessary if not for your grandfather’s will. If we had known about the will sooner, we never would have picked Sheldon for Teresa’s husband. Peters—”

  “No, wait!” Samantha cut him off frantically. “Jean, there’s another way. My husband is rich. So is my father. You don’t need to kill anyone.”

  “Come now, my dear, you know it’s too late for that. You know our plans now. Besides, the Blackstone estate is worth a great deal, and Teresa is a greedy woman. She is used to wealth. When her family lost their fortune she became quite desperate.”

  Samantha well understood desperation. She was on the verge of panic, for Peters was just standing there, waiting for Jean to give the order.

  “Jean, please. Jaime is just a baby. Give him to another family. No one will ever know. You don’t have to kill him, too!”

  “It won’t work. The money will be held up somehow unless he is reported dead.”

  “You can’t kill my baby!”

  “Do you think I like this any more than you do?” he shouted back. “I have no choice now. It has gone too far. So no more…”

  He fell silent as they heard the sound of hoof beats.

  Jean swore. “We have wasted time, and now someone is coming. Peters, go over by the horses—quickly! If someone asks, pretend one is lame. I’ll take the women into the woods until the rider is gone.”

  But Peters didn’t move. “Let me kill ’em now, Gov. There’s time.”

  “No, you fool!” Jean snapped. “We can’t take the chance of there being any witnesses. This must look like simple robbery and murder.”

  “But I’m quick,” Peters protested nervously, his eyes darting to the road. “I don’t want to be talkin’ to no bloke who might be a robber himself. We can be gone before he gets here.”

  Samantha backed up, nudging Froilana to move with her while the men argued. Then she shouted. “Run, Lana!”

  She threw the clothes she was holding at the men and pulled Froilana into the woods. The two ran for dear life
as they heard Jean cursing again. Peters shouted foolishly for them to stop.

  “Go after them, Peters!” Jean ordered frantically. “I’ll stay with the carriage. Find them, damn it, or you won’t get paid a farthing!”

  Samantha broke into a clearing, but it was too bright, so she pulled Froilana back into the dark of the forest. They ran to their left for several yards, and then she yanked Lana down behind a bush. Her heart was pounding painfully, her breath coming in gasps.

  “I don’t hear him following,” Samantha whispered.

  “I…I am frightened, Sam.”

  “I know. Hush. And please, Lana, don’t let Jaime cry. If they hear him—” A shot rang out, stunning them both. “My God! Jean shot whoever that was!”

  “Madre de Dios, now they will both look for us.” Froilana’s voice rose fearfully.

  “Don’t get hysterical,” Samantha whispered sharply. “Stay calm. They won’t find us. It’s too dark.”

  “But should we not run? Leave these woods?”

  “No, they’ll hear us no matter how quiet we try to be. Right now they’ve lost us. Stop talking now. Stay quiet.”

  They squatted on the damp ground, listening fearfully for every little sound. The foliage was thick, and it was a good hiding place as long as no one came near. The minutes ticked by agonizingly. There was a shout from a distance. Samantha’s name was called, but the women kept still. How absurd to think she might answer!

  Jaime began to coo softly. Froilana rocked him, and Samantha prayed continuously that he wouldn’t cry.

  Suddenly twigs cracked nearby, and Samantha held her breath. There was the sound of footsteps approaching, and they soon grew louder.

  “Oh, God, he’s coming closer to us,” Samantha whispered. “Lana, I’ll hold him off while you run with Jaime.”

  “No!” the girl gasped in horror.

  “Do as I say.”

  “No!”

  “Damn it, Lana, I can stop him better than you can. Now get out of here and save my baby. Go!”

  Put that way, Froilana had to agree. With a quick hug for Samantha, she disappeared into the brush toward her left. It was none too soon, either, for a few minutes later a man appeared from the right. Samantha didn’t know whether it was Jean or Peters, but it didn’t matter. She leaped for his legs in the way she had been taught to bring down a calf. He crashed down on his back with an oath, and she pummeled him before he rolled over, taking her with him. She went for his eyes, her only hope was to blind him, but he caught her wrists and slammed her arms to the ground.

  “I warned you before about those nails, Sam.”

  “Hank?” she gasped, disbelieving. “Oh, God…Hank!”

  She began to sob. Gently he pulled her to her feet and gathered her in his arms.

  “It is over, querida mía. Ah, mi amor, hush now,” he soothed. “You are safe. It’s over.”

  Chapter 47

  IT seemed a very long ride back to town. Jean had been shot, by Sheldon. That had been the shot they’d heard. He was only wounded, not dead, and Sheldon had him tied to Hank’s horse. He was personally escorting him to jail, refusing to let Jean out of his sight.

  At long last, Sheldon had showed his temper. He was in a rage after Samantha explained Jean and Teresa’s lethal plans. She had waited a long time to see him so angry. She was glad that he wasn’t taking Teresa’s treachery badly. He was furious at being duped, but he did not grieve over Teresa.

  Peters had got away. And it had taken time to catch up with Froilana and bring her back. She was asleep in the carriage, with Hank driving and Samantha holding Jaime close to her. She had come too close to losing him, and to losing her own life. She prayed she would never have another night like this one.

  It was gray dawn as they reached the Blackstone townhouse. Sheldon went on into town with Jean. Samantha almost pitied Teresa when Sheldon got hold of her.

  Froilana took Jaime to his room, and Hank followed Samantha into her room and closed the door after them. She turned to look at him carefully. She was grateful. If he hadn’t found her gun and realized something was very wrong, she would probably be dead. They had, in effect, declared a truce. But only for a while, she thought.

  “What do you want, Hank?”

  He didn’t answer. Samantha looked more closely and saw the dark look in his eyes. He was angry, seething. Her back stiffened in defense.

  “Answer me.” Her tone turned aggressive.

  He exploded. “Can you even imagine how frightened I was for you? Por Dios! You were nearly killed!”

  Samantha thrust her chin upward. “Don’t you take that tone with me! It wasn’t my fault!”

  “Like hell!” he shouted. “If you had not kept me from your room that Frenchman would never have been able to get to you. He would have had to kill me first!”

  “Oh, fine. A lot of good it would have done me if you were dead!”

  They stared at each other furiously, then suddenly Samantha grinned at the stupidity of the argument, and Hank burst into laughter.

  “Did you see my brother?” Samantha giggled. “I swear he wanted to shoot Jean all over again when he tried to explain what he’d done.”

  “And what about you? Pulling me down the way you would a steer.”

  “Too bad I didn’t have a rope.”

  “You would have liked that, eh? Tie me up and do your worst?”

  “I didn’t do so badly.”

  “You lost, however.”

  “Oh?” She grinned. “I notice you didn’t hold me down very long, Mr. Winner. Certainly not like you…used…to.”

  Samantha sobered. Why had she said that? Bringing up the past broke the fragile truce.

  Hank realized it, too. But he wasn’t ready for the spell to end. Tonight, he had realized more than ever how much he loved her. Racing to find her, half out of his mind with fear that he would be too late. He had to tell her.

  “Samantha.”

  She backed away, her defenses rising. “No, Hank, I think you’d better—”

  He caught her to him and silenced her protests with his lips. She raised her hands to push him away, but before she touched him, her resistance was gone. Her hands curled around his neck. All the long months apart, months of remembering how it was between them, the fiery magic, the incredible ecstasy. Samantha wanted it, needed it again, this one last time.

  There was no room for doubt any longer, not when he was searing her with his lips, lifting her, carrying her to the bed.

  Her robe was cast aside and nightgown quickly followed. Not for one second did Hank stop the kisses he placed here and there, springing loose Samantha’s passion. When he moved away for a few moments to shed his clothing, she waited breathlessly for the touch of his body against hers. Soon enough, it was there. Her limbs curled around him, and she arched her body to meet the drive of his first thrust.

  It was almost more than she could bear, that explosion that came only a few moments later. Coming all too soon, still it went on and on as Hank continued thrusting into her until at long last, he reached his own height.

  When Hank collapsed on her litterly spent and so very vulnerable, Samantha was filled with sudden tenderness. His desire for her was real, even if nothing else was. She carried that realization with her into sleep.

  Hank woke to find Samantha standing at the foot of the bed, her gun leveled directly at his chest. Wearing only her white flannel nightgown, her hair streaming in dark abundance down her shoulders and back, she looked too innocent for the hard anger in her eyes. She moved the gun, indicating that he should get out of bed, and he cursed silently. He had had his chance to talk to her, had it but lost it when she responded to his kiss. Talking was forgotten in favor of their passion. Had he lost his one chance to speak?

  He pulled on his clothes, angry. “You do not play fairly, Samantha.”

  “Don’t talk to me about fair play,” she snapped. “You took advantage of me.”

  “No. I only kissed you. Everything after t
hat was done by both of us—together.”

  “I’m not going to discuss it,” she replied stiffly. “Just leave, Hank.”

  His eyes narrowed at her hard tone. “Damn it, Sam, we have to talk.”

  “No.”

  “But we cannot go on this way, and—”

  “We can’t live under the same roof, or else this will happen again.”

  “Would that be so bad?” he asked softly.

  “Yes,” she said evenly.

  He shook his head. “The real problem is that we fight when we no longer have any reason to.”

  “I have reason,” she replied. “I don’t trust you, Hank. I’m going home. And no doubt you’ll return to the Hacienda de las Flores that you fought so hard to get. And that takes care of our problems.”

  “But you are my wife.”

  “In name only. That was your own doing, or don’t you remember? You married me only to get your land. You never intended to see me again. You didn’t care anything for me. Remember, Hank?”

  “I said many things then that I did not mean, Sam. You did, too,” he reminded her. “You swore you would divorce me, but you haven’t.”

  “If you’re worried that I’ll tie you up indefinitely with this marriage, you needn’t be. I’ll divorce you eventually.”

  “That is not what I want.”

  “I know what you want, Hank.” Her voice rose again. “But you can’t have Jaime.”

  “Sam—”

  “No! Now get out of here!”

  “Are you afraid to hear what I have to say?” he asked, his voice soft. “Is that why you stop me before I can even begin?”

  “I’m not slow witted, Hank. I know very well what your plan is. You’ll tell me you love me, say we should make our marriage work for Jaime’s sake. But it will just be lies, Hank.”

  “I do love you, Sam.”

  She faltered, hearing him actually say the words. But she wouldn’t let herself trust him.

  “No, you don’t. I know you, Hank. You will say anything to get what you want, and you want Jaime. I don’t blame you. But you gave him to me. He’s mine, not yours.”

  “What can I say to convince you I love you?”