His fingers found her hot and wet. It took no more than a simple stroke to take her over the first peak.
“Matthew.” His name was a strangled cry on her lips.
But he gave her no time to speak as he took her up and over again before lowering her to the bed. And then they were tangled together. Moving in an ageless rhythm that gave him, at long last, his release.
Izzy lay in the darkness and brushed away her tears. She wasn’t a woman given to crying. Yet she’d wept more in the past few days than she had in all the years that had gone before.
Her life had always been hard. But she had toughened herself, refusing to give in to difficulties or defeat. And always there had been the dream. Of a man who would love her. Of home and children. And now, in this rough cabin in the wilderness, she had found her heart’s desire.
Her heart was so filled with love, with happiness, she could hardly take it all in. She was almost afraid to sleep, for fear of waking and finding it was all a dream.
“Something wrong?” Matt’s voice beside her in the darkness had her turning toward him.
“There’s nothing wrong, Matthew.” She laid a hand on his chest. “Everything is so right. So perfect.”
He drew her hand to his lips and kissed each finger. “You’re cold. Come here.” He lifted the blanket and she snuggled against him.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered against his lips. “I was just counting my blessings.”
“Then add this to the count. I love you, Isabella.” He ran soft wet kisses along her throat, then unbuttoned her night shift and moved his mouth lower, burning a trail of fire along her flesh. “More than I thought it possible to love any woman.”
“And I love…”
He cut off her words with a lingering kiss.
And then there was no need for words.
Chapter Seventeen
“There’s a bite to the air.” Matt entered the cabin with an armload of logs and deposited them beside the fireplace. “Snow’s not far behind.”
Izzy looked up from the fire, where she was stirring a skillet of eggs and potatoes. “I don’t understand all this talk of snow. We had snow in Pennsylvania. But we never made such endless preparations.” She shook her head. “Logs piled to the roof. Enough flour and sugar to last a year or more. Is all this really necessary?”
“You might have had snow.” Matt reached over her shoulder and helped himself to a hot potato slice. “But I’ll bet you’ve never seen snow like we have in the Sierras.”
“Snow is snow.” She filled several platters and carried them to the table. After a blessing, they began to eat.
Matt studied the way she looked in her yellow gown, with the tortoise shell comb in her hair. “Isabella, you look as pretty as those buttercups that grow up in the hills in summer.” He glanced at her bare feet poking out from beneath the hem of her skirt. “And I’m glad you’ve given up those tight, fancy shoes.”
Warmed by the compliment, she touched a hand to the apron she’d added for good measure. “I just hope I can do my chores without ruining my new dress.”
“You’ll do just fine.” He turned to his children. “I thought I’d go across the meadow to that stand of old trees and start hauling the timber for our addition. I’d like to get it started before—” he glanced at Izzy and grinned “—the snow comes.”
She returned his smile. “You see? You spend an awful lot of time making plans around that snow.”
The others chuckled.
“Do I have to go, Pa?” Del was busy stuffing her mouth with eggs and biscuits.
He sipped his coffee. “Is there something you’d rather do?”
“Isabella said she’d teach me how to make apple cobbler.”
He tried not to show his astonishment. It was the first time he could ever recall his daughter not wanting to share her brothers’ chores. “Well then, I guess you’d better stay here and have a cooking lesson.” He set down his cup and winked. “Just see that you save some for me.”
“We’ll make a whole batch of it. Won’t we, Isabella?”
Izzy nodded. “Enough to satisfy four hungry men.”
“We ought to be starving by the time we haul those timbers home.” Matt drained his cup, then pushed away from the table and reached for his cowhide jacket. His sons followed suit.
Outside Matt hitched the team and the boys climbed into the back of the wagon. With a flick of the reins they took off, headed across the distant meadow. Running alongside were the hounds, setting up an eager chorus of barking. Izzy and Del stood in the doorway waving until they were out of sight. Then they closed the door, shutting out the bitter wind.
“Can we start the apple cobbler now?” Del was dancing with excitement.
“Not just yet.” Izzy couldn’t help grinning at Del’s impatience. “First I’ll have to go down in the fruit cellar and bring up a basket of apples. Then we’ll have to peel them.”
“I’ll go.” The little girl grabbed a parka from a hook by the door and tossed it over her pink gown. “You don’t want to get your new dress all dirty.”
“Why, thank you, Del. But what about your new dress?”
“I’ll be careful.”
Izzy was touched by her thoughtfulness. “All right. While you’re doing that, I’ll get out the flour and sugar.”
The door closed behind Del, and Izzy began humming a little tune as she measured the ingredients into a bowl. That done, she crossed the room and struggled under the weight of a heavy log.
She heard the cabin door open, felt the cold rush of air that caused the sparks to leap and flare. Wiping her hands on her apron, she straightened and paused to watch as the log caught fire. “Close the door quickly, Del. This must be the price I’m to pay for chiding your father. It really does feel like…” She turned. The words she’d been about to speak died on her lips.
Sergeant Harlan Cutler stood in the doorway clutching Del in his arms. He had one arm wrapped tightly around the girl’s waist. In his other hand was a pistol, which was pressed to her temple.
“Well, now.” He kicked the door shut and turned with a grin, revealing tobacco-stained teeth. “Ain’t this cozy? Just me and Izzy the Gimp. And one of Prescott’s little bastards.”
At that Del began to kick and scream. Cutler cocked the pistol. The sound, though little more than a click, seemed to reverberate in the room.
“Del. Don’t.” Izzy’s voice was barely a whisper. “Don’t move. Don’t give him any reason to hurt you.”
“Oh, I intend to hurt her. Though it won’t hurt me a bit.” His laughter scraped across Izzy’s nerves. “Ain’t never had me a young one before. This ought to prove real interesting.”
At his meaning Izzy had to fight a wave of revulsion.
“And you, Miss High-and-Mighty.” His smile grew, giving him a dangerous, feral look. “I’ve got special plans for you. You always thought you were too good for the likes of me. But I’ll show you what a real man can do. By the time I’m through with you, that husband of yours will wish he’d never heard of Harlan Cutler.”
Izzy struggled with a show of bravado. “My husband will be coming in from the barn any minute now. You’d better get, if you know what’s good for you.”
“Is that so?” He spat a wad of tobacco on the floor and threw back his head in shrill laughter. “Funny. I’d have sworn that man in the wagon, heading down the trail, looked just like Matt Prescott. And those little bastards in the back of the wagon looked like his, too.”
Icy fingers of fear slithered along Izzy’s spine. He’d been watching them. Watching and waiting for a chance to find her alone. To have his revenge for the beating he’d taken at Matt’s hands.
His smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. He tossed Del to the floor with such force she lay in a heap, struggling for breath.
Izzy let out a cry and rushed to the little girl’s side. “Are you all right, Del?” She touched a hand to the child’s forehead, which had begun to blee
d. “Here,” she whispered, pressing an edge of her apron to stem the flow.
Then she gathered her into her arms and hugged her fiercely. Over Del’s head she watched the play of emotions on Cutler’s face. There was an edge of madness in his movements. Wild laughter one moment, raw fury the next.
He aimed the pistol. “Move aside. I intend to start with the girl.”
“No.” Izzy wrapped her arms around Del, turning her body so that the child was shielded. “You’ll have to kill us both.”
“Oh, I intend to.” His voice had become icy calm. “But I have plans for you first. Before you die, I’m going to have me a whole lot of fun. Now, move away.”
Izzy’s mind raced. There was no fear for herself now. All her thoughts were centered on Del. She could fight this monster. She could kick, claw, bite. But one shot from his pistol would end any chance she had to keep him from brutalizing this innocent child. Sweet salvation. There had to be a way to save Del.
She had a sudden thought. Maybe she could barter for Del’s safety.
“Let the child live and I’ll…I’ll go away with you. You can do to me what you please, for as long as you please.”
His evil smile grew. “Oh, I intend to do just that. Right here. Right now.”
“But Matthew could return at any time.” She could see that her words struck a nerve. Cutler’s gaze swung toward the door of the cabin. “And when he does…”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re playing me for a fool.”
“You’re a fool if you stay here. My husband will kill you.” Her arms tightened around Del, and for a moment she closed her eyes against the fear that pulsed through her. “But if you don’t harm the child, if you leave her as you found her, untouched, I’ll go without a fight. And I’ll stay with you for as long as you choose. Then you can do—” she shuddered “—whatever you want to me.”
She could see him weighing the wisdom of her offer.
“It’d hurt Prescott real good if I hurt his little bastard. And I want to hurt him for what he did to me. But from what I’ve heard, it’ll kill him if I take away his pretty new bride.” His lips peeled back into a vicious snarl. “Come on, then. I’ll need time to cover our trail.”
He stepped closer and hauled Izzy to her feet. For a moment her heart stopped when he turned toward Del, still curled up on the floor. She saw his finger tremble on the trigger of his pistol and the knot of terror that rose up in her throat nearly choked her.
“If you hurt her my offer is withdrawn. I’ll claw and scratch and fight you until I’m dead. And you might manage to take some pleasure in it. Or—” she spoke each word slowly, in order to make her point “—my husband might return in time to kill you. And he will surely kill you if he finds you.”
She could see that Cutler’s fear of Matt was stronger than his desire for the child.
“Go on, then.” He waved his pistol toward the door.
“I’ll…need a shawl.” She wanted—needed—to draw his attention away from Del.
“Get it. And be quick about it.”
“It’s in the bedroom.”
As soon as she turned away he followed her, while still keeping the little girl in his line of vision. “You try anything funny, I’ll start with the kid.” He grinned. “Wonder how she’d look with that pretty little dress wrapped around her throat.”
Izzy stumbled blindly into the bedroom. In a mindless daze she pulled on her worn traveling boots, then reached to the top of the dresser for her shawl.
“Hurry up. What’s taking you so long?”
“I’m coming.” The drawer was partly open. Inside she could see the glint of her knife. The thought of it was too tantalizing to resist. Using the shawl for cover, she reached inside. Her fingers closed around the cold edge of her knife. Her hands were trembling so violently, she almost dropped it. In one quick motion she pretended to let the shawl slip from her fingers. As it fluttered to the floor, she bent and managed to slide the knife into her boot. A moment later she straightened and strode from the room.
“Don’t go with him, Isabella.” Del’s voice rang with fear.
“You shut your mouth.” Cutler crossed the distance between them and pulled her little arms roughly behind her back, securing her wrists and ankles with rawhide. “He’s going to hurt you, Isabella. Please don’t go.”
“This’ll shut you up.” While Izzy watched helplessly, Cutler tied a rag around the child’s mouth, cutting off her words.
“I’ll be all right, Del.” Izzy knelt and pressed a kiss to her cheek, tasting the salt of her tears. “You’re safe now, honey,” she whispered. “That’s all that matters.”
“Come on.” With a vicious tug Cutler hauled Izzy to her feet. “Before I change my mind and take the kid, too.”
At the door he shoved her ahead of him, then turned and aimed the pistol. When Del cringed, he gave a cruel sneer. “I’ll let you live, you little bastard. But only so you can tell your pa I got his woman. Tell him Harlan Cutler hasn’t forgotten how it felt to be humiliated in front of his captain. Tell your pa when Harlan Cutler’s done with his high-and-mighty new bride, there won’t be anything left for him. Or for any man.”
“Cold?” Cutler’s big rough hand pawed the gooseflesh on Izzy’s arms. “Hell, I’ll make you all nice and warm when we stop for the night.” He nuzzled his face against her hair and she was forced to endure the stench of his breath. “Wish I could be around that cabin to see your man’s face when he finds his little brat hog-tied and his wife missing.” He nudged his mount up a steep incline. “I’m glad now I didn’t kill the kid. I want Prescott to know who took his wife. And why. That’ll be the best torture of all.”
Despite the pounding of her heart, keeping time to the pounding of the horse’s hooves, Izzy struggled to hold her nerves at bay. She knew what lay ahead for her. But at least Del had been spared the same fate. That was the only thing that mattered. She would have willingly died rather than see Del suffer such brutality at the hands of this madman.
Still, she wasn’t entirely without hope. She had her knife. Though it was little defense against Cutler’s gun, it gave her some measure of comfort. And if there was the smallest moment of opportunity, she would use it. That knowledge would sustain her through this ordeal.
The rush of wind bit into her face as Cutler urged his horse up the wooded slope.
She had hoped that he would head for the valley, where someone might spot them. But she realized that he was heading high into the mountains, away from civilization. She stared around, trying to mark their trail. But it was impossible in this heavily forested area, where each cluster of trees, each rushing stream blended together into an impossible maze.
She shivered, plotting a way to escape. But even if she should succeed, how would she ever be able to find her way back to Matthew’s cabin?
She wouldn’t think of that now. She would concentrate on conserving her strength, so that if Cutler displayed any sign of weakness, she would use it to her advantage.
She closed her eyes and wished she knew a prayer. But her mind had gone blank. And her body had begun trembling uncontrollably in the biting cold.
She nervously drew her shawl close and plucked at the yarn that formed the fringe. When the thread unraveled, she stared at it a moment. Then, as a plan began forming in her mind, she opened her fingers and allowed the bit of yarn to flutter to the ground.
It seemed impossible that anyone would notice bits of yellow yarn against the snow. Still, it was the only thing she could do.
Please. The word rang over and over in her mind like a litany. Please. If there is any way possible, let these tiny threads mark the way.
“Mmm-mmm. I can almost taste Isabella’s apple cobbler, Pa.” In the early dusk of evening, Aaron sat beside his father on the hard front seat of the wagon.
“Me too, son.” Matt flicked the reins, urging the team across the meadow. “I hope Del left us some.”
In the back, Benjamin and Clement sat atop a pi
le of timbers, taking every bump and jolt like seasoned rodeo riders.
The hounds, trotting alongside, spotted the cabin and took off at a run, setting up a chorus of barking. When they reached the closed door they leapt and scratched, trying to force their way inside.
“I guess they’re looking for apple cobbler, too,” Aaron said with a grin.
“I don’t blame them.” Matt’s smile suddenly faded when he glanced toward the cabin. No smoke drifted from the chimney. No lantern light filtered through the windows.
He reined in the team and grabbed hold of his rifle. Slipping to the ground, he called, “Something’s wrong. You boys stay here until I give a sign that it’s safe to come closer. You hear?”
Before they could respond he was racing across the meadow. At the door he signaled the hounds and their barking ceased as they dropped to the ground. Matt pressed his ear to the door. Hearing no sound within, he kicked it in and strode inside. For a moment all he could see was the emptiness. Then, as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he made out a figure on the floor. His heart stopped as he crossed the room. Kneeling, he saw Del’s wide-eyed stare, pleading silently for release. Within moments he cut the rawhide bindings and tore away the gag.
“Oh, Pa.” For a few seconds all she could do was cling to him, weeping as though her heart would break.
He gathered her close and closed his eyes as relief poured through him. “Are you hurt, Del?”
“No, Pa. Just scared.” She stared over his shoulder at her brothers, who, ignoring their father’s command, had followed.
With a cry, she flew across the room and fell weeping into Aaron’s arms. The boy picked her up and cuddled her.
“I couldn’t work through the rawhide, Aaron. I tried.” She held up her wrists. They were raw and bloody. “But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t break free.”
At the sight of her pain, Aaron hugged her fiercely and pressed his mouth to her hair. “You’re all right now, Little Bit. But you cut yourself up really good. You must be hurting.”
The Courtship of Izzy McCree Page 19
