by B. J Daniels
His undersheriff nodded. “Just like us, they couldn’t find anything. No arrests, not even a speeding ticket. They have no idea where she’s been.”
Frank considered what Dillon had said. He hadn’t been able to find any trace of Sarah in the past twenty-two years. She hadn’t had a job—at least, not one that didn’t pay under the table. Nor had she gotten another driver’s license in another state. And she hadn’t been arrested or had any reason that her fingerprints would have been on file.
Dillon hesitated at the door. “Once he’s president, he’ll have an army of secret service to protect him,” he said as if to reassure them both. “There’s a chance he might not even win. A lot of women out there could decide he drove his wife to suicide. No pun intended. Sarah might even disappear again, this time for good.”
Anything was possible. So why couldn’t Frank let it go? “An innocent woman would have gladly given us her DNA and fingerprints,” he said for the sake of argument. When he’d asked her, she’d declined.
“But we got both from the parachute harness and that coffee cup she had been drinking from,” Dillon pointed out.
Sarah had broken the cup. Frank was positive she’d done it on purpose, realizing that her prints would be on it. She’d been afraid that something would turn up.
“But neither her DNA or her prints came up on any criminal databases,” Dillon said. “Your gut instincts are still telling you something is wrong, though.” The undersheriff seemed to think for a moment. “We could put a missing persons out on her and see if it turns up anything.”
It was a long shot. If she’d been arrested, something would have come up when they’d run her prints and DNA. But cops somewhere across the country could have run across her and might remember that face. “Let me think about it,” Frank said.
For years, the Hamiltons had been the county’s most upstanding family. Sarah’s return had triggered something. Since she’d been back, there’d been blackmail, murder and a suicide in the family. While she couldn’t be blamed for any of that, it still seemed odd to him.
His wife, Lynette, Nettie as everyone called her but him, had put it best. “There is a dark cloud over the Hamilton family.” She’d shuddered when she’d said it. “I hate to think what will happen next.”
“Still no word on Bo Hamilton?” Dillon asked as if thinking the same thing.
“No,” Frank said, “and I’m starting to worry. The Crazies are such a large area to search. I hope it doesn’t come down to that.”
* * *
RAY TURNED IN the saddle to look back at the woman. He was having misgivings about capturing her. His old man was going to kill him. Maybe he should end this now. The one thing he couldn’t do was let her go. His only other option was to kill her and her horse and make sure no one found either body.
Not that it would keep people from searching these mountains for her. Better to shove her and her horse off a cliff.
She sure was pretty, though. Classy, too. He’d never had a woman like that. There was one other option, he told himself. He could keep her.
But fer how long afore she takes an ax handle to yer head and takes off? His father’s mocking voice demanded. Or are ya plannin’ to keep her tied up the whole time like some mutt ya ain’t able to trust?
He scowled and turned back around, knowing his father was right. A woman like her would never want a man like him. She was so small and delicate, so different from him. He was lumbering and awkward.
When he was younger, he was always taller and bigger than the rest of his classmates. He used to hate the way they gave him a wide berth as if afraid of him when he did nothing to scare them. They made him feel even bigger and clumsier.
He hated them for it, because he would have given anything to fit in. Once he realized he could use his intimidating size, he started taking whatever he wanted.
He heard the woman stumble and almost fall again. The rope he had her tied up with grew taut and slowed the horse. Even so, he would drag her if he had to.
As he reined in, he wondered what she saw when she looked at him and scowled at the thought. He told himself he didn’t give a damn, but for the first time he did. It made him furious with himself.
His daddy always said that if you gave a woman any power over you, she’d destroy you. Bo made him feel inferior. Even if he forced himself on her, he knew he wouldn’t feel that he’d had her.
* * *
BO DIDN’T KNOW how long she’d been walking. Her legs and feet ached. Her clothing was torn, her skin scraped and bleeding from the times she’d fallen down and Ray Spencer had dragged her screaming behind her horse until she’d found her feet again.
“Please,” she said now. “Can’t we stop? Just for a few minutes?” He’d given her a drink of water back down the mountain, but her throat was dry again, her mouth dusty, lips cracked. “I need more water.”
“Ya need to keep walkin’. Ya said people’ll be comin’ lookin’ for ya. If ya don’t want ’em dead...”
Was someone looking for her yet? She couldn’t bear to think about spending days up here with this man. Nor could she stand the thought of what would happen once they stopped and made camp.
She’d pleaded with him to let her go. “I won’t tell anyone.”
He’d laughed at that. “That’s what they all say.”
Her blood had curdled at his words. “I have money.”
He’d seemed interested until he’d realized she meant back at her father’s house.
“I’m worth money,” she’d heard herself say. “My father will pay for my return unharmed.” She had known what she was suggesting was more than a little dangerous. But it was the only thing she could think of that might keep this man from killing her. If he knew that she was worth more alive than dead...
“Oh, yeah?” Ray had seemed only mildly interested. “How much do you think you’re worth?”
She had no idea. “A million?”
He’d laughed again, harder this time. “Sure ya are. Anyway, I don’t need no money up here in the mountains. A woman, though, I been hankerin’ for one for weeks. And now I got you.”
Those words had sent a shudder through her, and she’d shut up. There was no negotiating with this man. She had nothing to negotiate with.
Even as the sun set and twilight turned the mountainside to silver gray, Ray kept going, urging her horse on from high in her saddle, jerking at the rope he’d bound her with and half dragging her deeper into the mountains.
She could barely see where to step as daylight vanished and the trail filled with deep shadows. She stumbled and almost fell again.
“Ain’t far now,” Ray said. “Got jest the spot.”
* * *
DARKNESS CAME QUICKLY in the dense pines of the mountains. Once the sun set, a cool breeze had moved through the trees. The shadows grew longer and blacker.
Jace had been following Bo’s trail for hours. The going was slow because he’d often lose it in the thick bed of dried pine needles and have to find it again. He’d seen the remains of other campsites. Telltale blackened rock rings with the remains of a campfire marking the sites. None of those had been used in the past twenty-four hours, though.
Which meant Bo hadn’t wanted just a night of camping. She’d been set on total isolation farther back in the mountains. Knowing that gave him no peace of mind. More and more, he thought Bo Hamilton had looked to get away from civilization. But was it because of a guilty conscience and saddlebags full of loot? Or was there more to it?
He could understand wanting to escape a situation. Many times he hadn’t been able to deal with his sister. He’d wanted to turn his back, run away from the problem. But he hadn’t, and neither would Bo Hamilton when he found her.
Jace realized he wouldn’t be able to track Bo much longer. He needed to make camp
before it was too dark to see.
But just as he started to look for a spot to spend the night, he saw the footprints in the dirt. The tracks were man-size, large, moving in a scraping manner that dislodged a lot of dirt.
What caught his eye, though, was the fact that the tracks crossed Bo’s horseshoe prints. Someone had walked past after she’d ridden up into the mountains.
Swinging out of the saddle, he studied them in the waning light. Seeing the man’s boot prints in the dirt, he decided he wouldn’t build a fire tonight. He staked his horse some distance away from where he’d rolled out his sleeping bag.
The last thing he wanted was to become the hunted, because if he was right, Bo Hamilton was on the run—and she wasn’t alone.
* * *
WHEN RAY FINALLY quit dragging Bo up the mountainside in the dark, she collapsed on the ground in tears. Her wrists were rubbed raw from the rope cutting through the duct tape he’d bound her with. The fabric of her shirt was torn at both elbows, the skin beneath it scraped and bleeding.
“Get up,” Ray ordered as he swung down from her horse. “And stop yer blubberin’ or I’ll give ya somethin’ to cry about.”
She couldn’t move, couldn’t walk another step. Nor could she stop crying. The sobs racked her body, generated by fear and exhaustion and the bitter taste of defeat. She was at this man’s mercy, and he had proven he was merciless.
He took an intimidating step toward her. She closed her eyes and curled into a tight ball, bracing herself for the kick. To her surprise, he bent down close to her.
“Ya done good,” he said, his voice sounding both surprised and pleased. “Yer tougher than ya look.”
She didn’t feel tough as he dragged her to her feet. As he untied the rope from her wrists and peeled off what was left of the duct tape, she flinched at the damage that had been done.
“There’s water in that creek over there. It’ll make ya feel better if ya clean up.” The tenderness in his voice suddenly frightened her more than the gruff ruthlessness she had come to associate with him.
Before she could protest, he swept her up in his arms and carried her over to the water. It was full dark now, the sky overhead lit with stars and the gleam of a full moon as it rose up behind the pines to the east. The creek’s surface shimmered in the silken light.
Easing her down on the creek bank, he pulled off her boots and her socks. When he reached for the buttons on her jeans, she tried to pull away.
He slapped her hard enough to snap her head back. “Don’t fight me. Don’t ever fight me.”
She swallowed, her skin stinging from the slap. Closing her eyes, she felt him fumble with the buttons of her jeans before he jerked them down to her ankles, then off. She pressed her eyes closed more tightly, expecting him to remove her panties, as well. Tears leaked from beneath her lashes, but she was sobbed out.
Instead, she felt his fingers on her shirt. The snaps loudly clacked as he jerked her shirt open then eased it off one shoulder, then the other. She hugged herself, praying he wouldn’t try to remove her bra.
“I’ll help ya into the water,” he said next to her ear a moment before he lifted her into his arms again. Wading out into the creek, he lowered her slowly into the icy water.
The cold took her breath away as she balanced precariously on the smooth silken surface of the rocks beneath her, the water up to her thighs. He let go of her. She wobbled there in the middle of the stream, water rushing around her. The freezing water made her lower body ache.
“Wash yerself,” he ordered, taking a step back, but not so far that he couldn’t reach her if she tried to scramble out of the creek and up the adjacent bank.
* * *
RAY FELT DESIRE curl in his belly as he watched her. He didn’t know how much longer he could contain himself. He wanted her, and it didn’t help that he could take her so easily. There was no one around to hear her screams. No one around to be the wiser. Once he disposed of her body...
And what a body it was. His ache had a choke hold on him, and yet something inside him wanted more from her. He’d had women, but none like this one. He wanted this to be different from the others, most of them women he hadn’t even had to force himself on. But they’d all left him feeling empty. This one, he thought, would be different. But only if she came to him willingly.
The thought almost made him laugh. Women didn’t find him...attractive. Especially one like this. He wasn’t bad looking for such a big, hulking guy. That was usually what reeled in the desperate women he’d known. It was when they’d seen his temper or got a glimpse of the darkness inside him—that’s when they wanted nothing to do with him.
He couldn’t hide that part of himself. At least not for long. He would end up hurting this woman. He always did. He would see the change in her eyes—just like he had the others. One minute they were fine with him. The next all they wanted was to put as much distance as possible between him and them.
But they never got away easily. He was too big, too strong, too fast for that. Even hurting them, though, hadn’t given him the satisfaction he so desperately wanted, needed. Ultimately, they all left him, and he ended up feeling empty and alone.
For once, he wanted a woman to want him—with all his faults.
He stared at little Bo-Peep. She was different. She was the kind of woman he would never have stood a chance with off this mountain. Hell, she dressed like she had money. Even her horse looked expensive. Didn’t she say her daddy would pay a million dollars for her?
He’d laughed at the time, but now he wondered if she hadn’t been telling the truth. What had she said her name was? Bo Calder. The name didn’t ring any bells. She’d probably been lying about the money as well as her name. Not that it mattered. For all his dreaming of her coming to him willingly, he doubted she would last the night.
CHAPTER SEVEN
BO CUPPED SOME of the water in her hands and brought it to her face. The icy cold had a numbing effect. She let it run down her arms, washing away the last of the blood but making her scrapes and cuts burn.
“I been thinkin’,” Ray said, his tone softer, deadlier. “Ya and me...” He let his words trail off.
She looked over at him. He’d taken off his shirt and now splashed water up on him, under his arms, across his stomach. She hadn’t realized how big he was, but standing in the creek he looked like a giant.
He saw her staring at his scars and quickly looked away. She did the same. Her legs were numb from the snow-fed stream by the time he waded out to her. He lifted her into his arms again and carried her back to a large flat rock on the creek bank.
She wished her entire body were as numb as her hands and legs. She tried not to flinch at his touch, sensing that anything might set him off.
His sudden kindness filled her with both hope—and terror. Did he feel sorry for her because he knew what was coming next? She watched him out of the corner of her eye. What was he thinking? She could well imagine given how he looked at her.
“You ain’t married,” he said. “I ain’t never been married, not really. I’ve shacked up with my share. None like you.” He stopped.
The almost full moon had reached the tops of the pines, sending an eerie light over the landscape. A hush had fallen over the mountainside. All of it felt surreal as if she was caught in a never-ending nightmare.
No breeze stirred the pines. Even the faint murmur of the creek beside her seemed far away. She wrapped her arms around herself, trembling from the cold and the terror of what would happen next as she watched him retrieve her clothes.
“Put these on,” he said and looked away.
She swallowed, trembling with both fear and relief. She felt as if she’d dodged a bullet. But only momentarily, she reminded herself. She’d seen the naked lust that had lit his eyes brighter than even the rising moon.
&n
bsp; Her heart pummeled her ribs. She pulled on her jeans and shirt, her fingers shaking uncontrollably as she tried to button her jeans. He’d put his shirt back on, covering the array of scars she’d seen across his chest and back.
“I’m just sayin’ we could be good fer each other up here. I’d take care of ya.” There was something pitiful about the way he said it.
Her head jerked up as she realized he was asking her to be his mate up here in the mountains. The insanity of it couldn’t have made any of this seem more terrifyingly real. She said nothing, couldn’t have spoken if she’d wanted to.
“Ya must be hungry,” he said, quickly changing the subject. “Come on.” Picking up her boots and socks, he motioned for her to follow him back to the open spot where he’d left her horse. He’d opened himself up to her. Something in his look warned her that if she tried to run, things would go very badly for her.
She followed him, walking barefoot on painfully sore feet. He looked back at her once over his shoulder, and even in the light of the rising moon, she could tell he was pleased she hadn’t tried to get away.
Bo took a breath, then another as she fought to understand this change in him. He wanted her to like him, and yet at the same time there was a heartlessness about him that would make him hurt her without flinching if things didn’t go as he wanted.
This change in him seemed so incongruous that she felt as if she were walking a tightrope across a deep canyon. One wrong step... She took another deep breath. He’d said she was tough. Well, she would have to be. He wanted her to like him, she told herself again. If that meant he wouldn’t force himself on her... She could only hope for time—and an opportunity to present itself for her escape.
She couldn’t chance failing, because there was no doubt in her mind what would happen then.
* * *
JACE WATCHED AS the moon rose over the pines and scattered the mountainside with fool’s gold. He rested against a large tree trunk as he leaned back into the dark shadow of the boughs and kicked himself mentally for thinking this was going to be easy. He should have known finding someone as complicated as Bo Hamilton wouldn’t be easy.
