“Just exactly what did ya say to her, anyway?” His voice was angry.
“Only the truth,” she said sweetly. Georgiana cringed.
“And what truth would that be, Cordelia? The real truth or the one that ya imagined in your head,” Ridge accused her.
Cordelia didn’t answer him but rather changed the subject entirely.
“I’m so glad I’m leavin’ this horrid town with all you little men who have such high opinions of yourselves. If I ever see you again, Mr. Carson, it will be a moment too soon.”
“That’s the second time you’ve said that tonight.” Ridge’s voice sounded suspicious, and a long silence ensued. After a while, he simply added, “Well, I agree with ya on that anyway. Good-bye, Miss Jamison.”
“You sure you won’t change your mind and come runnin’ after me the moment I’m gone now, will ya?” she mocked. “You never know. I might have something you want after all.”
“I doubt you’ll ever have anything I want,” Ridge insisted.
“You can never be too sure.” Her voice was almost a sneer. Ridge didn’t answer this time, and Georgiana heard Cordelia flick the reins to start the horses moving again. “Good-bye, Ridge,” Cordelia called back to him. “Have a miserable life.”
◁ ◊ ▷
Ridge watched the wagon as it pulled away and headed out of town. He was glad to see that woman leave, but for some reason he felt something else pulling away from him. Maybe he was just being paranoid. Just like when he thought he heard a gun being cocked when the wagon first came to a halt. He must have been hearing things. Cordelia had been alone, and she didn’t carry a gun.
He turned and walked the rest of the way to the social hall, trying to shake off the nagging feeling that something was terribly wrong. He had started over to Samantha’s deciding it would be better to talk to Georgiana tonight rather than wait until the morning. He knew there was more to Samantha’s explanation of Georgiana’s sudden departure than she was letting on. Something had happened to make her look at him the way she had and then leave so abruptly. Cordelia had said or done something, and he was determined to find out what it was.
When he’d arrived at Samantha’s house, there were no lights on. Georgiana must have gone to bed already, and Samantha must have decided to stay, so he’d turned around and headed back. That was when he saw the wagon parked on the street. He hadn’t noticed it on his walk past the other direction, probably because he had been so deep in thought. As he watched it, someone climbed up onto the seat, and it started moving in his direction. When it got closer, he could tell it was a woman. When her face came into view, he saw that it was Cordelia.
After the wagon was no longer in sight, Ridge walked into the dance hall. He had no heart to be here any longer, but he had promised Samantha he would stay until she got back. He figured she wouldn’t be coming back now, but he felt obligated to stay for a little while, anyway, to make sure. So after dancing with a few more widows, he walked to a corner where he could watch the door, propped himself up comfortably, and waited.
As he stood there, he spotted Dawson. The man looked lost. He probably thought that at least Samantha was coming back. To be courteous, he should go over and explain that he was pretty sure both women had gone to bed, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. So he just waited, not being able to shake the foreboding feeling that something was about to happen.
Not five minutes later, Clyde Pickering burst through the door of the hall and shouted, “The bank has been robbed!”
The social hall was in an immediate uproar. People ran out the door and down the street to the bank. Sheriff Riggs ordered his deputy to start organizing a posse to search for the robbers at first light before he headed over to the bank to investigate. In his wake, Mayor Padderson was attempting to calm everyone down. Still, confusion ensued, and not much was being accomplished. Ridge grabbed a lantern, headed out the door, and hurried up the street behind Mr. Wallace.
When they got to the bank, the door was hanging wide open, and people were crowded around trying to get a look inside.
“Everyone away from the door!” Mr. Wallace demanded. A few people mumbled and stepped back, but most just ignored him. This time he yelled louder. “If you want any chance of gettin’ your money back, you’d better get away from the door right now. You’re destroyin’ evidence!”
At the threat of never seeing their money again, everyone stepped back in unison. It was about that time the sheriff showed up.
“All of you get back to the social hall or go home,” he ordered, and his voice meant business. People slowly started drifting way.
“Come on, Ridge,” Mr. Wallace called. “I could use your help.”
Ridge followed the sheriff and Mr. Wallace into the bank. Mr. Wallace took the lantern from Ridge’s hand and set it in the middle of the floor. Ridge froze. There was something small and blue lying on the ground. He knew what it was before he even picked it up.
“They have Georgiana,” Ridge announced as he reached down and lifted the tiny blue ribbon off the floor. “There’s no other explanation for this . . . and,” he paused, “Samantha was with her.” When he glanced back up, his eyes looked straight into the stricken face of Samantha’s father.
“This changes everything,” Sheriff Riggs announced. “The posse must leave tonight. Get home, grab your guns, and meet me back at the social hall,” the sheriff ordered before heading out the door.
Ridge didn’t move right away. Instead, he stood sifting through his memory. Something important was nipping at the edge of his subconscious, something he knew would lead them to where the women had been taken, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
20. No Honor Among Thieves
Georgiana moved closer to Samantha when she felt another violent shiver pass through her. She blew warm air into her friend’s tied hands. Earlier she had managed to work the gag out of her mouth and had helped Samantha do the same. The wagon had stopped over two hours ago, and Cordelia and the three men had left the two women in the back of the wagon. Their only protection from the night air was a thin blanket. The night was turning colder, and the blanket did little to keep them warm.
“It’s s-soooo . . . c-c-c-cold,” Samantha said through the chattering of her teeth. Worse than that though, was the terror evident in her voice. “W-what are th-th-they going t-t-to d-do with us? D-do you think they w-will leave us out . . . h-here all n-n-night?”
“Shhh . . . don’t worry about it, Samantha. Just concentrate on keeping warm. I’m sure they will come for us soon.” Her friend nodded and closed her eyes.
Georgiana rolled onto her back as best she could and looked up into the clear, starry sky above. At least it isn’t going to rain on us, she thought. The nights weren’t clear like this in New York. It’s one of the things she had missed. A shooting star suddenly lit the sky, sparking a specific memory from not long before she had first left Colorado for New York.
She could imagine Ridge lying next to her at that very moment.
“Okay, that half of the sky’s yours, and this half is mine.” Ridge reached his hand up and drew an imaginary line in the sky. “The person who finds the most constellations in the least amount of time wins.”
“But that’s not fair,” Georgiana complained. “You’ve got the big dipper and the little dipper both on your half.”
“Okay . . . then let’s switch sides,” he offered, crawling up and over the top of her and then situating himself on her other side. “I’ll win anyway . . . I always win,” he snickered.
“Did I ever tell ya, Ridge Carson, that one of the things I admire about you most is how humble you are?” she teased.
“That’s me!” he shouted affirmatively and turned his head in order to smile at her.
He was so close. She could feel his warm breath as he spoke in the cool night air.
“Well, don’t count on winnin’ this time. My grandfather taught me all the constellations when I was five,” she boasted.
&
nbsp; “And my mother taught me them when I was four,” he bragged in return.
She smiled and shook her head at him.
“Okay . . . are you ready?” He reached into his pants pocket and withdrew his father’s pocket watch. “We each get one minute. You can go first . . . ’cause you’re a girl.”
“No, you can go first.” She turned her head to him and glared. “Because you’re a boy.”
He turned his head and stared at her for a moment, and she thought he was going to argue, but he just grinned and handed her the watch.
“Okay, ya have ta keep time for me. When the second hand gets to twelve, say ‘go,’ ” he instructed carefully.
“First, ya have to close your eyes . . . and you can’t open them until I say so.”
“Why?” he asked, puzzled.
“Well, that way ya don’t get to start lookin’ until your minute begins. It’s only fair,” she explained.
He rolled his eyes.
“All right, but ya still won’t win,” he bragged again, turning his face to the sky and closing his eyes. “Okay, I’m ready . . . just say when.”
Georgie looked over at him, his dark lashes fluttering softly on his cheeks. A stray lock of hair curled at his temple. She was tempted to reach over and see if it felt as soft as it looked. He was so dreamy.
She almost jumped out of her skin when he opened one eye and peeked over at her. Her face turned red.
“Well?” He looked at her curiously.
“Well, what?”
“Is it time?” he asked impatiently.
She blushed again, immediately realizing she had forgotten that she was supposed to be keeping time. He raised one eyebrow and smiled. This made her blush even more, and she quickly turned away and studied the timepiece in her hand as she began counting.
“Okay . . . five seconds . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . . now!”
Georgiana was brought back from her memory when she heard a door open and close. Shortly, both girls were being forced up and carried out of the wagon.
“The boss says ta bring ya in now, but if you bother her in any way, we’ll have ya tied up outside somewhere and you’ll just have ta take your chances with the coyotes,” Gil remarked offhandedly.
“If it were me, I’d make sure I stayed real quiet like,” Wyatt was saying now. “The boss is in a real foul mood, and I don’t think she’s fond of the two of ya.”
They were carried in the door of an old two-room cabin and made to sit on the wooden floor against one of the walls. The wood was hard, but at least they were near the fire. The only furniture in the room was a lopsided table and a pair of rickety-looking chairs. Gil and Wyatt sat down at the table, and Gil pulled out a deck of cards. The third man appeared to be sleeping on a bedroll on the other side of the fireplace. Cordelia must have gone to bed in the other room. Georgiana awkwardly maneuvered herself to sit closer to her friend.
“Samantha,” she whispered, “are you all right?”
Samantha nodded her head but didn’t say anything.
“I’ve been thinking. They really have no need for us now that they have their money and are already safely out of town. Cordelia’s rotten, but I don’t think she’s so far gone that she’ll let them do any real harm to us. They’re probably just planning on leaving us here in the morning and riding on. As long as we don’t cause any trouble, we’re going to be fine.”
Samantha’s eyes looked somewhat relieved, and she nodded her head again.
“Listen, we’d better try to get some sleep. We’re going to need our strength to get us out of here and find our way home.”
Samantha didn’t say anything, just closed her eyes and leaned her head on her friend’s shoulder. Within a few minutes, Georgiana could tell she’d fallen asleep.
Despite what she’d told Samantha, Georgiana couldn’t seem to relax enough to fall asleep herself. Between the dancing tonight and getting jostled in the wagon, her foot was sore and throbbing and would not allow her any respite. She closed her eyes anyway and leaned her head back against the wall. When she opened them again, she noticed the man on the floor stirring. He must not be asleep, she thought.
Before the thought had time to leave her mind, he rolled over and began staring at her. She was shocked by the wanton and depraved look in his eyes. She had been frightened by Gil and Wyatt, for they were thieves and as such were greedy and vile in nature. She presumed this wasn’t their first act of thievery. But though they had been rude as well as rough in the handling of Samantha and herself, she hadn’t felt from them a fear of anything worse. The lecherous way this other man, Slash, was staring at her caused the hairs on the back of her neck to prickle and her stomach to churn. She feared this man’s intentions toward them were far more insidious in their design.
To make things worse, she worried no one even knew they had been taken. Everyone probably thought they were home at Samantha’s house in bed asleep. That was why, when she realized they were to be kidnapped, she had discreetly loosened a ribbon from her hair and dropped it on the floor of the bank. She only prayed Ridge or Dawson would see it and realize what it was.
Georgiana closed her eyes to block out the sight of the nauseating man before her and conjured up a vision of Ridge instead, handsome in his suit coat, smiling into her eyes as he led her across the dance floor. Please God, she prayed for the second time tonight, please let me know the feel of his arms around me again. Help both of us to get out of this alive, and keep both Ridge and Dawson safe.
It was then she was finally able to fall into an exhausted and troubled sleep and block out the frightful man across the room.
◁ ◊ ▷
Jake “Slash” Fletcher continued to stare at the delicious young thing as she drifted off to sleep. She was the most beautiful and tantalizing woman he had seen in a long time, and he intended to have his fill of her tonight as soon as those empty-headed simpletons stopped playing cards and went to sleep.
Cordelia had warned the three of them not to lay a hand on either one of the women, but who was she to tell him what not to do? He was through taking orders from that woman anyway.
He had met Miss Cordelia Jamison over in Westchester about three and a half months ago. She’d been working at the saloon trying to help her mother support her lazy father, and she’d been taken with him at first sight. He wasn’t too bad looking when he was cleaned up, could even turn a head or two. But his real gift, besides his skill with a knife, was his silver tongue. He’d always had a way with words and had learned early on to use them to his advantage. He could tell from the first time he’d seen Cordelia that with a little effort, she’d be easy pickings. She was vulnerable, and he knew it . . . counted on it.
So he had sweet-talked her and lavished on her his attentions. By the end of the week, she had melted like butter in his arms. After another week had passed, he had tired of her. The look in her eyes told him she was looking for something permanent, maybe a way out even, and it wasn’t going to be him. He didn’t need the baggage, and he certainly wasn’t planning on settling down. So he had quickly skipped town for a couple of months.
He had been back a week when she had approached him, told him what she was planning, and asked if he wanted in. He was skeptical at first. Asked why she’d considered letting him in on the deal if it was as good as she said it was. She’d told him she needed a slick-talking lowlife if her plan was going to work. He could’ve taken offense, but the truth was it sounded like too good of a deal to pass up. One thing he hadn’t counted on, though, was how hard it was going to be taking orders from a woman.
Slash took another eyeful of the treat that was waiting for him before closing his eyes. He could wait. A little while longer, anyway.
◁ ◊ ▷
Georgiana awoke when a hard hand was pressed harshly to her face. Next, she felt the point of a sharp blade in her side.
“Get up!” the man whispered. “You’re comin’ with me.”
Georgiana felt her f
ear intensify, and she couldn’t bring herself to move. The man cut the ropes at her ankles and yanked her to a standing position. Luckily Samantha was no longer lying on her shoulder but had maneuvered onto her own side. She didn’t look extremely comfortable, but at least she was sleeping.
“One word out of ya, and I’ll run you through with my blade. They don’t call me ‘Slash’ for nothin’.” His breath was hot and sticky and his voice rough as he spoke lowly into her ear. “Besides, if that happens, there’ll be no one here to protect your little friend from comin’ into the same.” Georgiana’s eyes got wide with fear and worry. It seemed to please the man. “If you satisfy me enough, I might let her be, though I won’t make no promises. She’s almost as sweet a tart as you are.”
Georgiana strained her head to look down at Samantha as the man pushed her into a forced walk. Thankfully, she was still asleep.
As soon as the door was opened, a blast of icy air assaulted her, and she began to shiver as he pushed her down the steps and toward the wagon.
“Now climb up,” he ordered.
With difficulty, Georgiana climbed into the back of the wagon, and the man climbed in after her. Her body shook from both the cold and the fear. He forced her to lie down. Taking his knife, he sat down on her legs and cut the ropes from her wrists.
“Now don’t be getting’ any ideas thinkin’ you’ll get away and run off. I just can’t abide to have you tied up.”
Georgiana unconsciously rubbed the rope burns on her wrists with her cold fingers.
“This is not how I usually get my women,” the man continued, leaning on all fours now so he could position his face closer to hers. “Despite what you may be thinkin’ right now, they usually fall into my arms.” Georgiana turned her head to the side to avoid looking at him. He grabbed her chin with the hand that held the knife and forced her to look at him. “If you’d met me at a different place and time, you might be counted among them.” Georgiana gave him a disgusted look but held her tongue. “Now, don’t look at me like that. I’m usually quite the ladies’ man. You might even consider yourself lucky.”
The Kissing Tree Page 23
