by Carol Finch
Levering himself from his chair, Jonah followed Maddie to the café and noticed that another round of admiring gazes came her way. Too damn pretty for her own good, Jonah thought, not for the first time.
Taking a seat in the corner of the restaurant, Jonah put his back to the wall so he would have a clear view of the door—and of Maddie. He scowled when a string of men ventured toward her, but she turned them all away with a gracious smile and gentle rejection.
If it were true that Maddie was an heiress and had would-be fiancés lining up to vie for her attention, he wouldn’t be surprised. She attracted men as easily as she attracted trouble.
Jonah polished off his meal and pushed his plate aside. He held his seat until Maddie got to her feet and exited. A moment later, Jonah followed her outside and watched her stroll up and down Main Street before she returned to her room.
Veering into the alley, Jonah strode behind the hotel, then swore fouly when he noticed the crates had been restacked to form steps leading to Maddie’s room. He made quick work of tossing them aside. Damned if he was going to make it easy for those ruffians to enter Maddie’s room via the window again.
And where the hell were they hiding out? he wondered irritably. He’d frequented every saloon in town earlier, expecting them to show up to steal the money he was supposedly carrying.
Or was that a manipulative fib Maddie had fed him to reassure him that she was the innocent victim in all this? No, he reminded himself. He had heard the gunshot and seen her mutilated pillow. Those cowboys were definitely threatening her. But that didn’t necessarily mean that she hadn’t double-crossed them earlier.
Jonah sighed in frustration. He was damn tired of wavering back and forth between Maddie’s innocence and guilt. Those two men held the answers and he had seen neither hide nor hair of them. His only other option was to put faith in Maddie’s story, but he was too much the cynic to take anyone’s word as gospel. Especially a woman who attracted and intrigued him against his will.
To be deceived was unacceptable, but to deceive himself was unpardonable, Jonah reminded himself.
Pensively, he stared up at the window, drawn toward Maddie against his ironclad will. Damnation! That woman was sure enough making him crazy. He couldn’t trust his instincts when it came to her. Wanting her kept getting in the way of calculated logic. She monopolized his thoughts and preyed on his forbidden desires until hell wouldn’t have it.
Two more days, Jonah chanted silently.
Maddie might not want his company, but she was getting it, nonetheless. He’d make a pallet on the floor to guard the window and the door.
And that was the way it was going to be, he told himself resolutely as he headed up to her room.
Jonah tapped lightly on the door and said, “It’s me.” He expected to meet with resistance, or to be ignored completely.
She surprised him by saying, “Come in.”
He stepped into the room and smiled approvingly when he noted the blockade at the window, then he glanced at the bed to see Maddie tucking herself beneath the covers.
“First I couldn’t convince you to come west with me. Now I can’t get rid of you. I even tried ignoring you, but that didn’t work, either. You’re like a rash that won’t go away.”
“Glad you’ve accepted the inevitable,” he said as he dropped his gear on the floor and unfastened his holsters.
She leaned out to extinguish the lantern, plunging the room into darkness. “Come to bed, Jonah. If I’ve learned nothing else I know that your only interest is sharing a soft mattress for the night.”
A lot she knew, he thought as he walked around to the other side of the bed. He slid beneath the quilt and immediately picked up her enticing scent. His body hardened in three seconds flat. It was all he could do not to pull her into his arms and demonstrate to her that sleeping was the very last thing on his mind when he lay down beside her.
When she rolled sideways to buss a kiss over his cheek he bit back a tormented moan.
“You aren’t going to try to sneak off without me in the morning, are you?” he asked in a gravelly voice.
She just turned her back to him and settled in for the night. Jonah wasn’t sure if that implied a yes or a no.
Chapter Six
Although Maddie had contemplated sneaking away from Jonah at dawn, common sense assured her that she had a better chance of surviving the trek across unfamiliar territory with him as her guide. She and Jonah set a relentless pace through the broad river valley that was flanked by rolling hills covered with thickets of mesquite and oak.
According to Jonah, the area was once part of the Comanches’ and Kiowas’ favorite hunting ground because of the abundance of water, wild game and wooded retreats. Daisies, yellow buttercups and reddish-brown gaillardias added splashes of color to the fertile valley, which was now dotted with small farms.
As the day wore on Jonah became more withdrawn and less talkative. Maddie presumed his bittersweet memories were tormenting him. But by late afternoon she realized they were zigzagging the area rather than taking a due west route.
When Jonah halted to rest the horses and fished his field glasses from his saddlebag, Maddie frowned warily. “What’s wrong?”
“We’re being followed.” He scanned the copse of thick oaks and cottonwoods on the south side of the river.
Maddie glanced around in alarm. “How could those cowboys have caught up with us so quickly?”
“It’s not them,” Jonah murmured as he made another thorough and deliberate sweep of the shadows in the thickets. “Looks like we’ve attracted some other kind of trouble.” He tucked away the spyglass. “Mount up, Maddie. I want you to curl over the saddle so you don’t make an easy target,” he instructed.
Maddie did as she was told, then frowned curiously when Jonah led her mare, and his, into the thick underbrush.
“What are we…” Her voice trailed off when Jonah resituated his gear atop his saddle, and tied it in place to look as if he, too, were hunched over the saddle. He removed his boots and stuffed them in the stirrups.
“Follow the river, but cling to the protection of the underbrush so no one can get a clear look—or shot—at you.” He grabbed the pistol she’d purchased in the Flat, then handed it to her. “You’ll lead my horse behind you so it looks as if I’m still with you.”
Maddie’s apprehensive gaze darted across the river, then back to Jonah, who removed his holsters and six-shooters and draped them over the pommel of her saddle.
“Just in case…” he said grimly.
“Just in case what?” she demanded anxiously. “Where are you going to be while I’m creating the impression that we are forging through the bushes?”
“I’m going to introduce myself to our unwanted guests.” He pulled a lethal-looking dagger from his shirtsleeve. “Watch your back, princess, and don’t hesitate to start shooting without bothering to ask questions first.”
“Is that your policy?” she asked as she watched Jonah crouch down to make his way to the riverbank.
“Generally. The desperadoes I associate with aren’t much on answering questions. They prefer to let their pistols and rifles do their talking for them.”
And so did Jonah Danhill, Maddie mused as she watched him skulk from one clump of bushes to the next to reach the water. Everything inside Maddie rebelled against leaving Jonah to confront whoever—or whatever—was stalking them. She tried to remind herself that he was highly skilled, experienced and perfectly capable of dealing with trouble. But he had come to mean more to her than just an escort. The prospect of seeing him hurt—on her behalf—was difficult to accept.
“I’ll signal you with the hoot of an owl when I return,” he called back to her. “Now go, princess.”
With the pistol clutched in her fist, her body hunkered over the back of her mare, she picked her way through the bushes and prayed fervently that this would not be the last time she saw Jonah alive. She’d developed a fond attachment to her pretend husban
d, even if he only saw her as an unwanted assignment.
With the dagger clutched in his hand, Jonah slithered into the water. He came up for a quick breath in midstream, then submerged again. When he reached the south side of the river, he crawled on hands and knees to avoid detection. Jonah scooped up a fistful of stones along the bank, then stuffed them in his pocket.
In the near distance he heard a horse snort and stamp impatiently. That indicated that it was a man, not a beast, that was stalking them. Obviously the rider had dismounted. At least one of them had. Jonah couldn’t say for certain how many men had been following them, without taking time he didn’t really have at the moment to study tracks.
He crouched behind a bush, then raised his head to see the shadowy images of Maddie and the horses moving in and out of the bushes on the north side of the river. He did not, however, spot the unidentified man who had left his horse tethered to a tree.
Jonah frowned pensively, aware that he wasn’t dealing with an inexperienced tracker. Whoever was following them was damn good at concealing himself. Which was all the more reason to dispose of the elusive shadow that had been trailing them for more than ten hours.
Relying upon the stealth and cunning he’d learned from the Comanche, Jonah crept slowly through the trees, pausing at irregular intervals to listen for sounds that might give his adversary away.
He saw and heard nothing.
Damn, he’s good, Jonah mused as he quietly shifted position to scan the area from a different angle. His Comanche training had taught him to outwait his nemesis, but minutes passed before he heard a muffled noise near the riverbank. Jonah fished a pebble from his pocket and tossed it in the direction the sound had come from. He expected to hear a shot ring out, pinpointing the man’s position.
Nothing. Damn. If he and his adversary were destined to play cat-and-mouse for an hour, Maddie might find herself lost or in trouble. Jonah couldn’t guarantee that there weren’t at least two men on their trail. One might well be keeping surveillance on Maddie while the other hung back.
The instant Jonah felt himself growing impatient he inhaled a steadying breath and focused on outlasting the clever rascal who had staked out his horse for bait. Jonah grabbed another pebble, tossing it sideways as he crept off in the opposite direction. Again he heard a muffled sound, but no one rose from the bush to take a wild shot.
After a quarter of an hour of playing hide and seek, Jonah sprawled in the grass and inched soundlessly toward the horse. He swore he heard the soft rustling of underbrush, but when he raised his head he saw nothing but a roan gelding grazing on a clump of grama grass.
As he’d been taught as a young warrior, Jonah eased onto his back, clamped the dagger between his teeth and speared his arms and legs outward so that most of his body was covered by the blades of grass, making detection difficult.
He waited.
Then he waited some more.
Eventually he decided to launch a stone at the horse’s rump. When the horse bolted sideways, Jonah lifted his head and finally caught a glimpse of movement off to the right. Now he was finally making progress. His adversary had exposed his position in the underbrush.
This time Jonah tossed a pebble toward the far side of the bush where the man had crouched, then he sprang up to launch himself directly as his adversary. Arm cocked, dagger clutched in his fist, Jonah landed directly on top of the man, who had a dagger clutched in his fist.
“Damn it to hell!” Jonah hissed as he stared down into the familiar face. “If those sons-a-bitches hired you to track us you’re a dead man!”
“What the hell are you doing on this side of the river?” Kiowa Boone questioned sourly. “I thought someone was after me! You must’ve put a decoy on your horse. Where’d you learn that deceptive trick?”
“From a white man, believe it or not,” Jonah growled while he and Boone held each other in stalemate—two nasty-looking daggers aimed at each other’s throats.
A wry smile quirked Boone’s lips as he made the first move to withdraw his knife, then shoved it into the leather sheath strapped on his leg. “Those two sons-a-bitches did contact me and wanted me to help them track you,” he reported, as Jonah eased down to sit cross-legged beside him. “But now there are four sons-a-bitches on your trail and they offered to split the money you’re carrying five ways.”
Jonah stared curiously at Boone. “Who are the other men?”
Boone rolled into a sitting position and brushed the leaves off his shirt. “Henry Selmon, for one,” he replied.
Jonah snorted. “The drunken buffalo hunter?”
Boone nodded his dark head. “The other one is Selmon’s sidekick. Since the hide trade has dropped off, Selmon and Rance Lewis have taken whatever work they can get. Legal or not.”
Jonah rose to his feet and pulled Boone up beside him. “Did you catch the names of the two men who have been chasing us?”
“Jesse Gibbs and Beau Newton,” Boone reported. “I figured you might need someone to watch your back, so I followed you from the Flat this morning.”
Jonah arched an amused brow. “I thought you weren’t too thrilled with the idea of encountering the lost spirits of the Comanchería.”
“I’m not,” Boone acknowledged as he ambled over to fetch his horse. “But I got to thinking that I’d probably have to face the past sooner or later.” He swung gracefully onto the saddle. “Figured I might as well face it with someone who feels the same way I do.” He extended his hand to Jonah. “Climb aboard, Danhill. Better find your wife before she gets herself lost.”
Jonah settled himself on the roan gelding. “I wondered why I had such a hard time flushing you out,” he said, chuckling. “Damn Kiowas always did steal the Comanches best tricks.”
“Steal? Hell!” Boone scoffed in mock offense. “The Comanche learned stealth and cunning from the Kiowa.”
“Glad to have you along,” Jonah said after a moment. “I’ve met some tough and capable men among the battalions of Rangers, but they aren’t—”
“Breeds,” Boone finished for him. “I know. And you’re damn good, too, Danhill. Took me a long time to figure out that you’d put a decoy on that devil horse of yours. At first I thought one of those four men on your trail had caught up with me while I was guarding your back.”
Jonah smiled curiously as they trekked through the trees. “How’d you figure out that it was me?”
“Didn’t know until you jumped me,” Boone admitted. “I figured it was Selmon or Lewis, and I decided I might as well lessen the odds against us while I had the chance. But I can tell you it is damn hard on my pride to have you get the best of me. I don’t usually find myself outsmarted. But at least a damn paleface didn’t do it. That would’ve been the ultimate insult.”
Jonah was mighty relieved to have Boone on his side. Two-to-four odds were acceptable. Plus, the Kiowa would serve as a buffer between Jonah and Maddie. With Boone along for the ride maybe Jonah could avoid the temptation that was always within arm’s reach.
Maddie jerked upright when she heard the faint hoot of an owl behind her. But just to be on the safe side, she shifted sideways in the saddle so she could point her pistol west, then grabbed one of Jonah’s Colts to aim in the direction she’d come. Relief washed over her when Jonah, his clothes clinging to his muscular body like wet paint, emerged from the underbrush near the river.
“Did you find out who was following us?” she asked.
“Yup, and don’t shoot him,” Jonah cautioned before he motioned for Boone to lead his horse from the brush.
Maddie blinked in surprise when Kiowa Boone stepped into view. “What are you doing here? I thought you didn’t want to tramp through this area any more than Jonah did.”
Boone smiled slightly. “Don’t. But I decided my Comanche cousin might need help, since the number of men following you has doubled.”
“Four men?” she chirped incredulously.
“’Fraid so.” Jonah strode over to resituate his gear behind the
saddle, then retrieved his boots. “Ever heard of Jesse Gibbs and Beau Newton?” he asked.
Maddie frowned pensively, trying to place the names. She noticed that Jonah was watching her astutely. He still didn’t trust her completely, she realized, disappointed. He was waiting to see if recognition registered on her face.
“I don’t know anyone by those names. Who are the other two riders?”
Jonah filled her in as he mounted his black gelding.
“I don’t understand any of this,” Maddie muttered. “You’d think I was carrying a grand fortune that attracts unwanted interest.”
“How much money are you packing?” Boone questioned as he nudged his horse forward.
Maddie glanced uncertainly at Jonah, who nodded, indicating his acceptance of Boone’s integrity and trustworthiness. Jonah trusted Boone without question, but he was leery of her, she noted. That really hurt.
“Eight thousand dollars,” Maddie told Boone. “Five thousand in ransom to rescue my sister and three to cover the losses from cattle rustling.”
Boone whistled softly. “That’s more than enough money to attract a crowd, ma’am. Your friends—”
“They are not my friends!” she shouted at him.
Jonah snickered as he took the lead. “Forgot to tell you that she’s mighty sensitive about referring to our shadows as friends.”
“So I noticed,” Boone said dryly.
Before Jonah could interject his usual skepticism, Maddie offered Boone an abbreviated version of Christina’s disappearance and the ransom demand.
Boone glanced quizzically at Maddie, then at Jonah. She suspected that Boone was trying to figure out why Jonah had never been to the Bar G Ranch if they were supposedly married. She decided it was time for Boone to know exactly what was going on.
“The fact is, Jonah and I aren’t really married,” she stated as they trotted across a rolling hill.
“You’re not?” Boone’s surprised gaze darted to Jonah. “Since when do Comanches speak with forked tongues? You must have more white man’s blood in you than I first thought.”
