Hunched over, he scurried to the side of the ramshackle house. Ethan removed his hat and rose until he could peek through the dirty window. Charlotte sat in a chair, her eyes darting from face to face, and her hands tied. Ethan’s stomach twisted into an uncomfortable knot, and he maintained a white-knuckle grip on his rifle.
Damn.
“What the hell is taking Toby so long in the barn?” One of the men turned angry eyes to the door.
“I ain’t waiting for that squirt. I’m going to take that bitch. She’ll be sorry she slapped me before I’m done with her.” The second man moved with menace toward a cowering Charlotte.
“Why should you go first?” The first robber grabbed his partner’s arm until they were standing face-to-face.
“Simmer down, Bud. Let’s do like we done in the saloon in Cheyenne.” He pulled his lips into a sneer and leered at the quivering girl. “Together,” he growled. “That was a mighty fine night. Let’s get her on the bed and naked.” He shook his finger at Charlotte. “I likes me a woman who fights so you go right ahead. No matter if you go gentle or fighting, me and Bud will be doing things to your body you ain’t ever even imagined.” His laugh made the hair on Ethan’s neck stand straight up. “Toby might join in the fun if he ever finishes with those damn horses.”
He moved behind Charlotte. The sound of fabric ripping, and Charlotte’s cries, filled the air. “Stop that kicking, girlie. I’m going to tie you to the bed, you little hell cat.” With an arm around her middle, the robber carried a flailing Charlotte toward the narrow, dirty bed in the corner. “Face up or face down?” He landed a hard smack on Charlotte’s squirming bottom.
“Face down,” Slim answered. “By the time we’re finished with that side, she won’t have much fight left.”
Ethan sank from view. Bullets flying inside that little cabin might hit Charlotte. He needed to create a distraction and draw them outside. He laid his rifle on the ground. He had better aim with his pistol and one hand free. Moving to the front of the cabin, he threw a rock at the front wall.
“What was that?” One of the men asked.
Crack! Another rock hit the ramshackle house.
“Finish tying her up, and I’ll go check.”
Ethan waited until the man was through the door and had one boot in the dirt and the other on the bottom step. He aimed, fired, and ran for the house.
Charlotte’s hands and feet were tied to the bed, and the last robber was slicing her skirt up the back.
“Turn around slow. Hands in the air.” Ethan’s voice was loud and dripped with intent.
The man stilled. “Where the hell did you come from?”
“Don’t matter. Move away from the woman, raise your hands, turn around,” Ethan demanded a second time.
Ethan had seen coiled snakes lying still—motionless but dangerous—before whipping their bodies with deadly speed and accuracy. This man was that snake, and Ethan, alert and ready, waited. When he spun, a knife in his hand, Ethan shot. The knife flew, the robber howled, and blood spurted, rich and red, into the air.
“I have four more bullets in this gun, mister.” Ethan shook his weapon at the injured bandit. “Move away from the lady before I decide to save the sheriff and judge some time. Move.”
Cradling his bloody hand to his body, the man staggered to the opposite wall. “Where are my men?” he asked.
“One is tied up in the barn. The other one is dead.” Ethan ripped a strip off the man’s shirt and bound his wound before tying his hands. He pulled the man outside and secured him to the porch rail.
Charlotte lay shivering, sniveling, secured with rough twine to the bed.
“I’m here, Charlotte,” Ethan reassured her. He knelt by the bed and sliced through the rope. She leapt into his arms, and Ethan held her tight, tight, tighter. He sat on the side of the bed and pulled her into his lap.
“I can’t figure what you were thinking, and you’re going to tell me the whole story from start to finish. My patience is plumb used up with your secrets. But first, we’re taking the two robbers still living to Patterson. We’ll leave them and the bag of loot with the sheriff. The train doesn’t stop there, but he can get the belongings to Odessa and returned to their owners.” He gave Charlotte’s bottom two hearty smacks before helping her to her feet. “Then, after I hear the entire story, I’ll know if I need to finish that spanking good and proper. You said you were my woman. From now on, you’re going to act like it.” Ethan moved to the door before turning to face her and say, “I’m going to get these varmints mounted and tied to their saddles. See if you can fix your clothes enough to be decent.”
Ethan presented Charlotte with a small smile before leaving the cabin and heading for the barn. The first outlaw had regained consciousness and was struggling against his restraints. Ethan untied the rope, dragged the dazed man to his feet by the back of his dirty shirt, and pulled him none to gently into the yard. He helped the still groggy man into his saddle and secured his hands to the pommel. When he had the injured bandit on his horse and tied to his satisfaction, he knocked on the cabin door.
Charlotte emerged from the shack clutching her dress with one quivering hand. Ethan opened his saddle bag, removed a clean shirt and handed it to his barely covered woman.
“Thank you,” she mumbled, pulling the giant plaid shirt over her ripped bodice.
He gave a sharp snap of a nod.
He held out the bag of ill-gotten gains. “Take what’s yours.” She removed a small purse, and Ethan slipped it into his saddlebags. He cupped his hands and vaulted Charlotte into the saddle of the dead bandit’s horse before swinging onto his own mount.
“Move out,” Ethan ordered the robbers. “You two ride in front nice and easy. Don’t try anything stupid. I’ve reloaded my pistol, and my rifle is ready. I’m a damn good shot. Don’t test me.”
They rode in silence toward the little town of Patterson. Before the sun set on this terrifying day, Charlotte would tell him the story. The whole story. Every damn bit. She’d be one lucky woman if he didn’t spank her bottom till it glowed.
Yup, one very lucky woman. His palm itched just thinking about it.
Chapter 11
Charlotte
Charlotte cast a surreptitious glance at Ethan. His jaw was a slab of marble. A vein throbbed in his temple. He ground his teeth with intent. A fission of heat, wet and lusty, burned between her legs. Ethan angry was a commanding, demanding sight.
“Ethan,” she began.
He held up one hand. “We’ll talk later. I need to get these varmints to the jail before I deal with you.”
Deal with me? She gulped.
“I got to pee, mister,” a robber whined.
“Then pee, but you ain’t getting off of that horse. I’m not gonna put up with any shenanigans from the likes of you.” Ethan’s eyes never wavered from the backs of the men he escorted toward the jail. His hand rested ready on the butt of his gun.
The little town of Patterson rose like a mirage. Six businesses, a handful of houses, one dusty street. San Miguel was a thriving city and Boston an international metropolis compared to this sad spot.
Ethan reined his horse to a stop in front of the jail. He pulled the bandits from their saddles, and firmly seized an arm of each.
“Wait here,” he growled. He retrieved the loot from his saddlebag, and the three men entered the little building. Ethan returned alone.
“The sheriff will hold those rascals and send the stolen property to Odessa.” He picked up the reins to the three waiting horses. We’re taking them to the Livery. Follow me.”
The horses ensconced in the cool shade of the Livery, Ethan took possession of her upper arm and she scurried double-time to keep up with his long, angry stride.
A small man with an arrow-straight part and a string tie stood behind a desk in the hotel.
“Howdy, mister.” His eyes scanned the dirty pair, but his greeting was for Ethan alone.
“The missus and I need a room.
One with privacy if you’ve got it,” Ethan said.
The little man’s eyes roved head to toe, and Charlotte withered under his gaze. She wore a man’s shirt; her skirt was ripped up the back; her hair was disheveled and hanging down her back. His glance paused on her left hand—the most damning evidence of all, no wedding ring.
Possibilities ran rampant through her frizzled, frazzled brain. Insist on her own room? Demand her independence? Try to send him on his way? No, even if he agreed to any of those demands, she cared for him. She craved him like a child hungers after candy. His protection, his care, curling into the cave of his chest and living there for the rest of her life, called to her like a blessing. And she hoped he would help her find her mother. This west, this hot, dry, lawless west was as strange and unwelcoming to her as the surface of the moon. He was right. She was ill-equipped and unprepared for the realities of frontier life.
“Yes, sir. Room number four. It’s at the end of the hall.” He placed a key in Ethan’s hand and hesitated. “Might the missus want a bath?”
“Yes, I suppose she does. Send one up in an hour.” Gaining control of her elbow once more, they mounted the first few stairs before Ethan turned back to the desk. “My wife needs some new clothes. Does the Mercantile carry ready-made?”
“My wife is about the same size. I can send her to buy something.” He perused her soiled state again.
“Add it to our bill.” They took two more steps before Ethan paused once more. “See if they have a split skirt. We plan to do some riding.”
Charlotte was propelled up the remaining steps and into room four. Ethan turned and locked the door.
“Sit down, Charlotte.”
She hurried to comply.
“Tell me everything. Don’t you even think about leaving something out. Your life, our lives, could depend upon it.”
She stuttered and fussed with the button on his shirt. “I’m not sure where to begin.”
“Begin at the beginning.”
She cleared her throat and continued worrying the button. “Well, I told you I lived my whole life cloistered in my father’s house. But I didn’t really mind. He was my father, and he took care of me. Until he allowed Megan to visit, I never had a friend my own age. Cook let me come to the kitchen and sit with her. She was the closest thing I had to a mother, and I think she risked her job to be kind to me.”
Ethan sat on the side of the bed. “I don’t understand it. Why would he keep you hidden?”
“I didn’t understand it either until recently. I thought it was just what fathers did. I didn’t have anything to compare it to.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Anyway, I was looking for some paper in my father’s desk and a little door flopped open. It was a hidden little cubby hole and a bundle of letters lay inside. I took them. I’d never done anything so bold and naughty before, but those letters called to me. If they were hidden, they had to be important.” She waited for his nod.
“I put the letters in order, and I read them all in one sitting. I found out about his lies. I found out about his deceit. I found out about his extortion.” She blinked at the tears threatening to overflow. “He told me my mother and grandparents were dead, but they’re not.” She nodded a vigorous yes at his skeptical eyebrows. “When I was a baby, my mother tried to sneak out of the house with me in her arms. She wanted to escape her marriage, but father caught her. He let her leave, but he kept me.” She swallowed hard. “He always called me his treasure.”
Ethan’s eyes scorched her own.
“I thought he meant he treasured me, his daughter, but I was actual treasure. He demanded money from my grandparents in exchange for brief glimpses of me. All my life, at random times, he’d take me to a park or out for an ice cream, and we’d just sit. I think he was giving my grandparents a viewing.” A lone tear trailed down her dirty cheek. “Also, my grandfather is on the Boston City Council, and my father told him how to vote for zoning laws and taxes and anything that benefited him. It was a kind of ransom, but my grandparents did what he asked to keep me safe and get an occasional look at me.”
“Why didn’t they get you out of there?” Ethan asked.
“From what I gathered in the letters, they tried. But he is my father. The law was on his side. If they took me, he could have the law fetch me back. Maybe he would deny them any glimpses of me at all. They were afraid.” Tears now ran freely down her tired face.
He used his thumb to wipe away her tears and asked, “What happened to your mother?”
“My grandparents kept her at their house at first, but they worried. He wouldn’t give her a divorce. He wouldn’t allow her to visit me. If he contacted the police, they could come collect her. She was his wife, after all. They were afraid that if he got her in his house, she might not ever get away again. He would have two treasures locked away tight.” Charlotte accepted the handkerchief Ethan offered and blew her nose.
“What did they do?”
“They sent her to Mexico where U.S. laws don’t apply. My grandfather went to Harvard with a man named Hector Hernandez. They became good friends. He is a wealthy landowner in Mexico. My grandfather asked him to take my mother into his home and keep her safe. Señor Hernandez was happy to help his old friend. He promised to protect my mother, and he did.” Charlotte stood and went to look out the window. “When I wrote and told my grandparents I had escaped my father’s house, they sent me money and instructions to the Hernandez hacienda. Take the train to Odessa. In Odessa take the train to Lantry. Once there I was to hire an escort to the Hernandez property fifty miles south of the border. It sounded easy enough.”
“Do you know anything else?” Ethan queried.
“My mother married Hector’s son, Joaquin. They have a daughter and two sons.” She raised her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders. “I guess it’s a legal marriage south of the border.”
“Your father has men following you? More than the one in San Miguel?”
“Yes, when Nick told me a man was asking about me in town, I knew I had to leave. He helped me get to Abilene and on the train. I thought I would be safe, but shortly after we left the station a man sat beside me. He said he was sent by my father, and he was taking me home. He took hold of my wrist and wouldn’t let go.” She twisted her hands into a tight knot in her lap. “When the train was robbed, I asked the bandits to take me with them.”
“You what?” Ethan’s voice was a near shout.
“I was desperate to get away.” She rubbed her hands up and down her thighs and chewed on her lip. “Honestly, Ethan, I thought I’d be safe on the train. My grandparents made it sound so easy.” Charlotte’s words sank to a whisper.
“Well, little girl, you are in a world of trouble. Mike and I both told you the west is a dangerous place for women. I told you to keep your secrets as long as you didn’t put yourself in danger. You didn’t listen or obey. Why didn’t you come to me?” Ethan blew a frustrated puff of air through his lips.
“I should have. I’m sorry. I intended on coming back after I found my mother.” She looked up at him through wet lashes.
“You spent twenty years locked away. You might as well be an infant so unprepared you are for the real world. You could do well in Boston with its society and rules and civilization. The west. Never.” Ethan’s fingers drummed against the side of his leg. “There are many more men than women in the west. You wouldn’t know, but the absence of women makes a man a little crazy. They dream about them. Imagine having one in their bed. Desire them. Crave them. Some men, not all, but some, will take a woman against her will to ease the ache. You were about to find that out.” Her head bounced as he shook her shoulders. “It makes my blood run cold just thinking on it.”
“You’re right. I was foolish.” She gulped a sob. “Will you help me find my mother, Ethan? Please?”
“I will. Of course, I will. I would have helped you from the start if you had asked.” He shot her a look of hard disapproval. “From now on you do as I say. Exactly as I say. If you p
ut yourself in danger or disregarded my warnings, I will warm your bottom good. Little girls who can’t behave and do as they’re told get spanked.”
Charlotte felt his arms encircle her. She could melt into him, dissolve, fall into this hot, masculine comfort.
“Do you think there are more men looking for you?”
She relished his hand rubbing circles on her back. “Yes. I was his treasure,” Charlotte said again, and snorted.
“You’re my treasure now. I’ll honor and treasure you always. Your trust. Your obedience. Your love.”
She lifted her face for his kiss.
“First things first. Drop what’s left of your drawers.”
She flinched at the command.
“But, Ethan, I didn’t know how dangerous it would be,” she whined.
“If you’d been listening to Mike and me, you would have known. For God’s sake, woman, you weren’t even allowed to go of view of the house. How did a train to Odessa figure into that instruction?”
She wanted his protection, and she dreaded it. Her fingers trembled; her lip quivered; her stomach rolled.
“Now, Charlotte, now.” Ethan clapped his hands two crisp times.
Her hand disappeared under the remnant of her skirt. They both watched as the battered garment fell to the floor.
“Ethan, I’m scared,” she whimpered.
“As scared as you were tied to that bed? As scared as you were flying across the range on the back of that horse? As scared as you were of their plans for you?” He closed his eyes. “Charlotte, I was scared today. Scared out of my head. I feared you would fall off that horse and break your neck. I feared I wouldn’t reach you in time and those varmints would hurt you. I couldn’t stand it if you were harmed. My heart would break.” His shuddering breaths filled the room. “It’s only a spanking, sweetheart, and you deserve it. Don’t you?”
She stared at the floor, her face flushed red in her shame and embarrassment. She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Treasured: Lonestar Love, Book Two Page 9
