“I have nothing, Savannah.” His whispered words brought her head up. “I’ve lost everything. I can’t bring you down to my level.”
“If not for you, I’d be in the same situation.” Not able to voice the words, she tried to tell him she loved him with her eyes, to implore him to stay. “When will you leave?”
“As soon as your taxes are paid.” He looked away, ripping her heart into pieces.
As she sat there, sorrow gave way to anger. How dare he get so close to her only to take it all away? She wanted to thrash him with one of the pillows behind his back. Instead, she clenched her fists and sat while he fell asleep. Once he had, she rested her gaze on his face, clouded with stubble, and dreamed of what might have been.
“Tea?” Irma handed her a cup. “Two sugars, just as you like it.”
“Thank you.” If only tea could mend a broken heart.
“This is in God’s hands, sweetie. Wyatt will survive, and your heart will mend.” She leaned closer. “Men are not the sharpest tacks in the box. If he does leave, he’ll come running back the moment he realizes what he’s up and left behind. Which will be about a mile down the road.”
“Will you watch him? I’d like to take a walk. I know Lincoln and Lee are more than capable of running the ranch, but I’d like to make sure the corral is secure and the calves all right.”
“I have something better.” She pulled a small bell from her pocket and set it on the nightstand. “Your Mama found this in your Pa’s study.”
They left the room, Irma heading for the kitchen and Savannah for the corrals. Savannah waved at Rose, who stirred a pot of laundry. Since the arrival of the two women, she had less work to do. A good thing, since Wyatt wanted to leave. The full running of the ranch, harvest, selling of goods, would all fall on her shoulders.
She propped a booted foot on the corral and watched the calves frolic beside their mothers. Maybe she could get Wyatt to help move them to a better place before he left. Then, when the time came and the birthing season started again, she’d hire someone new to bring the animals home. Of course, now that they had cattle, they needed to be branded. A task she was not equipped to do. Maybe she could get him to do that, too. After all, taxes weren’t due for another three months. They had time.
First off, she needed to arrange the sale of ten acres to their neighbor. She headed to the barn to saddle Bullet. Not long after, she rode east, armed with a rifle and pistol, and hope that Mr. Johansson still wanted the land for hay.
The sun shone through the trees, dappling the trail in front of her. Birds serenaded from oak and pine trees. If not for her heavy heart, the day would be perfect. Pa had always said to rejoice in each day. But what could she find, other than the beauty around her, to rejoice in? Mama wanted to marry her off to a man who only desired to leave at the first opportunity. She glanced heavenward. Irma was right, though. God had everything in control. Savannah would do her best to remember that.
Wyatt opened his eyes to an empty room. A cold cup of tea rested on the nightstand next to a bell. He groaned, stretching as far as his stitches would allow, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. No more using the chamber pot or having others wait on him. Other than a mild throbbing in his right thigh, his legs worked fine. He might not be able to work the fields or rope a cow, but he could still supervise while others worked.
Dizziness overcame him. Maybe he wasn’t as ready as he thought. One day was obviously not enough to recover from the blood he’d lost. He lay back against the pillows and stared at the ceiling.
God help him, he didn’t want to leave the Rocking W. He wanted to stay, marry Savannah, and have a passel of young’uns. If only his father were alive to advise him. He’d most likely box Wyatt’s ears, tell him to stop acting like a fool, and go after his girl. He just might, if he could stand up without his head swimming.
What was the worst thing that could happen if he married Savannah? They worked together to keep the ranch afloat? What if she couldn’t manage without him? She was a strong, intelligent woman, but a partnership was always better. He had knowledge and experience to offer her. That, and his heart. Would it be enough?
“You’re awake.” Mrs. Worthington carried a tray into the room. “Beef stew?”
“I am hungry. Thank you.”
She set the tray on the nightstand. “I’ll set out some clothes so you can at least drape a shirt around you. Irma took a pair of your long underwear and cut off one leg. We’ll have you as respectable as possible. Let’s get you on your feet.”
Heat rose to his neck. “I’ll eat, then you send Lincoln or Lee in. They can help me dress.” The woman was loco for sure.
“I’m a widowed woman, Mr. Jamison. I’ve seen all there is to see.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer one of the men.” He fixed a stern glance on her. “I appreciate all you’ve done, but other than bringing me my tray, one of them can now help me.”
“Very well.” She folded her hands in front of her. “Have you thought more on my proposition?”
“Still thinking.”
“Well, don’t take too long. She isn’t getting any younger.” She turned and left him staring after her.
Did he love Savannah enough to put up with her mother? He grinned. Yes, he supposed he did.
By the time he’d finished the stew and coffee, setting all the dirty dishes back on the tray, Lincoln arrived in his room. The man grinned, his teeth startlingly white against his dark skin. “Modest, Mr. Jamison?”
“Shut up and help me get respectable, as Mrs. Worthington says.” He reached an arm out to the man who was quickly becoming a dear friend.
Through pain and breathlessness, they managed to get his underwear on and a shirt fastened around his shoulders. “Tell me what’s going on. Has Morrillton been back? Any more calves? What about the mares?”
“Slow down, boss.” Lincoln glanced at the chair.
“Sit, please.”
He did. “Two more calves birthed just fine. Three mares due any day now. No, the banker hasn’t been back. That seems suspicious to me.”
“I agree.” Wyatt rested his head back against the pillows. “How do you feel about going into town and listening around?”
“We aren’t welcome there.”
Wyatt sighed. “Sorry. Sometimes, I tend to forget such ridiculousness.” He gnawed the inside of his cheek. “I guess there’s nothing to do but keep an eye out and hope the man gave up.”
“Men like him don’t give up.”
That’s what he was afraid of. Anything could happen, and he was as weak as one of those newborn animals outside. “I need to get out of this bed.”
“Irma said if I did more than help you get dressed, she’d thrash me. I believe her.” Lincoln flashed another grin. “I don’t make her mad, not if I’m using my head.”
“Wise man.” Wyatt shook his head, looking forward to the day a woman bossed him around. A woman other than Mrs. Worthington. “Could you find Savannah and send her to me?”
“Sure thing. I saw her out by the corral a while ago.” He hurried from the room, taking the tray with him.
Wyatt smiled. Maybe lying in bed, stitched up and hurting, wasn’t the way most men proposed to a woman, but he didn’t want to wait until he was back on his feet. He needed to reassure her, right now, that he’d decided he was going to keep his earlier promise and not go anywhere she wasn’t.
Lincoln returned within minutes. “Her horse is gone. Tracks show she headed east.”
“To sell ten acres.” He’d speak with her when she returned. Closing his eyes, he slept.
When he opened his eyes again, night had fallen. He reached for the bell beside his bed and rang for someone to come.
Irma, her arm full of folded linens, stopped in his doorway. “You hungry? Want Lincoln to take you to the privy?”
“No, I’d like to speak to Savannah, please.” Time was wasting. He’d waited long enough to tell her how he felt.
&n
bsp; “She ain’t here.”
“What do you mean? She left hours ago.”
“Yes sir, and her mama is worried. Lee went looking for her.”
Wyatt’s blood ran cold. Any number of things could have prevented Savannah from returning home. Her horse could have thrown her or a shoe. She could have met up with a bear or cougar. He shuddered, knowing her chances of coming out of such an encounter alive. “Get me Lincoln.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed.
“I’s here. A deaf man could hear you hollering from the barn.”
“Get me up and on my horse.”
With Lincoln’s help, he shuffled toward the barn, turning at the sound of galloping hoofbeats. The marshal had arrived. From the other direction came Savannah’s riderless horse.
Chapter 9
Savannah glared at Mr. Morrillton’s back and pulled against the restraints keeping her in the back of the wagon. If she could get free, she’d bound out and race for home. It was a good thing for the snake that her hands were tied. If she were free, she’d throttle him!
“Settle down back there. You’re upsetting my horse.”
“Your horse? What about my Bullet?”
“He’s heading for home as we speak with a nice little message tacked to his saddle.” His shoulders shook as he chuckled. “I told you that one way or the other I was getting that ranch.”
“Why mine?”
“You know as well as I do, Miss Worthington, that it’s easier to take something from a woman than it is three brothers. The Mason boys would just as soon shoot me as look at me. I need your land to expand.”
“Here’s an idea.” Was that a loosening of her knots? “Sell out and move somewhere else and buy a larger parcel.”
“This is my home. I was born and raised here.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Why don’t you sell to me and follow your own advice? I’ll pay just under the ranch’s value.”
“Go chew on your hat.” She slammed back against the backboard, regretting her childish action immediately.
A bruise would form from where she’d banged against a sharp piece of wood not sitting flush. Wait. Not wood. She smiled and began the arduous work of rubbing the rope against the protruding nail. She winced as the nail scraped her wrist.
The wagon stopped in a clearing in the center of thick pine trees. Mr. Morrillton set the brake on the wagon and jumped to the ground. “Now, we wait for the ransom.”
She stopped sawing the rope. “The deed to my ranch, I presume. I’m the only one capable of giving you that.”
He grinned, the expression sending shivers down her back that had nothing to do with the setting sun. “I have that all planned. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” He grabbed her ankles and yanked her toward him.
Once her feet were on the ground, he all but dragged her to a tree. As he tied her to it, he made a clicking sound with his teeth. “I see you were trying to free yourself. Silly girl. All you’ve done is cause your wrist to bleed.”
She kicked out at him, feeling great satisfaction as he grunted when she connected with his shin.
“There goes your biscuit.” He turned and set to work building a fire. Once he had a flame going, he laid a pistol next to him and sat staring into the flames.
“May I at least have a drink of water?” Her stomach rumbled at the thought of the biscuit. “You don’t want a dead hostage, do you?”
“You won’t die with one day of no water.” He didn’t turn to look at her.
Savannah sighed. Who would come for her? Lincoln, perhaps. Wyatt was bedridden and wouldn’t have the strength. Otherwise, if he loved her, as she had hoped he was beginning to, she doubted anything on earth would keep him away. Now, she’d have to rely on a couple of hired hands afraid to pull the trigger on a white man.
She rested her head against the rough bark of the tree. Her situation seemed bleak. Well, Savannah Worthington wasn’t one to lie down without a fight. Working the binding around her wrists against the tree, she ignored the pain in her shoulders. Eventually, she’d free herself. Persistence was the key. Then she’d head into town and demand the sheriff do something. Kidnapping was not something to be ignored. She glared at her captor’s back.
She thought more about what could have been with Wyatt. Foolish man. She didn’t care whether he had money or a bloodline that went back to the Mayflower. What mattered was that he loved God, loved the ranch, and loved her. She blinked away tears, realizing he didn’t love the third on her list of requirements.
But as long as there was breath in her body, there was hope. She would declare her love for him as soon as she saw his face. What happened then was up to Wyatt and God.
“You’ll go blind staring at the fire like that.” Not that she cared one way or the other, but the silence was deafening.
“I’m thinking.”
Hmm. She wouldn’t have thought him capable of it. If he was, he wouldn’t have chosen to take the path of kidnapping. “What about?”
“How this is all going to turn out and how rich I’ll be. You should have followed through with letting that cowboy leave. Then we could have wed and I’d have what I wanted.”
Savannah shuddered. Being locked into a marriage with such a despicable man was the worst fate imaginable. “If you untie me, we can discuss this in a more civilized manner. I had no control over Mr. Jamison being attacked by a cougar and having to return to the ranch. We can go to town, get married, and tell everyone we eloped and that the ransom note was nothing more than a joke.” Plus, it would provide her with the opportunity to escape.
“It’s too late for that, Miss Worthington.” He narrowed his eyes over his shoulder. “You told me to chew on my hat. I can’t marry someone so unladylike. Not to mention the way you ride that horse of yours. Scandalous. I’m a very important man in town.”
Maybe to himself. If she were to take a poll, she doubted very much that others shared the same view. She returned to working on her bindings. They seemed to be loosening, sending hope surging through her tired arms. She was so thirsty. So hungry. How could the man be so cruel to a woman? Oh, when she freed herself….
If that man hurt Savannah, he’d feel the fullness of Wyatt’s wrath. Please, God, don’t let Savannah open her mouth and make the man angry. He smiled, knowing she had a special talent for speaking her thoughts.
“This man sure isn’t trying to hide his tracks.” Larry West, Wyatt’s marshal friend, pointed to a set of wagon tracks. “Is he really dumb enough to think you’d ride up with the deed in hand and give it to him without a fight?”
“No. That’s a cover-up for something else.” Wyatt rotated his shoulder, careful not to pull too hard on his stitches. He could only pray he’d have the strength to save Savannah once they found her. The energy spurred by fear and anger was quickly ebbing away to be replaced by exhaustion. “I think he’s going to use me to get Savannah to turn over the deed.”
“Would she?”
Wyatt shook his head, sliding a pistol into his sling. “She’s the type to die for her friends.” If his suspicions were correct, and the pained look in her eyes when she heard he was leaving was one of spurned love, it increased the risk she would take to keep him safe. If she didn’t give him a boot in the rear. No, Morrillton would use Wyatt as an incentive for Savannah to hand over the deed without violence. Then … Wyatt had no idea what the man intended.
“We need to sneak up on the man and take him down before he has the opportunity to act.”
Things were going to get messy. Wyatt closed his eyes and prayed for safety, wisdom, and a favorable outcome.
Larry held up his hand then pointed to the trees ahead of them. This was it. The moment of truth.
Wyatt slid from his horse, grunting as the impact jarred his wounds. He grabbed his rifle from the scabbard and checked the pistol in his sling. They were as ready as they could be.
They made their way slowly through the trees, stopping at a thick clump of prickly evergreen bushes. Th
rough the branches, Wyatt spotted Savannah tied to a tree and Morrillton outlined by the fire’s glow. Wyatt squatted. A twig snapped under his boot.
Morrillton jumped to Savannah’s side and aimed a pistol at her head. “Come on out, Mr. Jamison. I’d hate to ruin this pretty gal’s face.”
Wyatt closed his eyes at his carelessness then stood and stepped into the clearing. “Don’t harm her.”
“Leave, Wyatt. I have this under control,” Savannah said.
“It doesn’t look like it from here, dearest.” In fact, she looked as if she was in pain, and dirt covered her clothes.
“Did you bring the deed, Mr. Jamison?” Morrillton cocked his head.
“I did.”
Morrillton took a knife from a sheath on his belt and cut the ropes binding Savannah then hauled her to her feet. “Hand it to the little lady, real careful like, after you set your gun on the ground where you stand.”
Wyatt laid down his rifle and pulled a folded sheet of yellowed paper from his pocket. It wasn’t the deed. There’d been no time to search for the real thing. Moving slowly, he handed the paper to Savannah, narrowing his eyes at the sight of blood on her wrists.
She glanced at the paper, not batting an eye. “Let him go now. There’s no need to kill him.”
Kill him? Wyatt narrowed his eyes. So it was intended to be a trap.
“I can’t do that,” Morrillton said. “Not until you sign the paper over to me. If you don’t, I shoot him where he stands. You sign, and we all walk away from here.”
The obstinate look on her face told Wyatt she had no intention of carrying the charade of compliance much further. She glanced over his shoulder toward the trees. Smart girl. She knew he wouldn’t have come alone.
“I’ll tell everyone that I signed under duress,” she said. “It will never hold up in court.”
“Shall I shoot him in the leg first?” Morrillton rapped the barrel of the gun on her shoulder.
Wyatt stepped forward at her cry, halting when the gun swung his way. He put his good hand up.
The American Heiress Brides Collection Page 39
