Captured Heart (Historical Christian Romance)

by Barbara Goss

  Amanda found it difficult to think with him stroking her cheeks and murmuring sweet words. She stepped back, causing his hands to fall from her face.

  “I need to think,” she said.

  He threw up his hands. “You mean without me crowding you?”

  She nodded.

  ‘I understand, but let me just give you a few things to consider. I’m a very wealthy man. I not only own one of the largest hotels in San Francisco, but a mansion on a hill overlooking the bay. You would live as a princess, with servants to wait upon your every need. Anything your heart desired would be yours, just by asking.”

  “What kind of life would we lead?” she asked. “I mean there are other things more important to me. For instance how do you feel about a family? Would you be a faithful, loving husband? How would your hotel affect our lives? Do you attend a church?”

  Charles whispered a mild oath and threw back his head laughing. “When you said you needed time to think, I thought you’d need a day or two! Such deep, serious questions to come up just moments after my proposal. How your mind works!”

  “But I’ve been considering along these lines for several days now, in case this sort of thing did happen. In fact, I’ve been quite worried about the difference in our backgrounds.”

  “All right, he said calmly “Let me answer your questions then. I’d love to have at least half a dozen children and with you as my wife I’d be the most faithful and loving husband. My business would be business and my personal life my personal life. Finally, I’ve never been to church and never planned on making it a part of my life. However, if it were important to you, I would seriously consider at least trying it. “He shrugged, “Does that give you enough information to give me an answer?”

  She smiled. He could be so charming and accommodating. “I’ll give you my answer tomorrow night. Is that fair enough?”

  “More than fair.” He kissed her lips gently before heading quickly toward his tent.

  Confused by her lack of enthusiasm, Amanda even shocked herself by rubbing the wetness of his kiss from her lips.

  Why had her feelings for him changed so suddenly? Was it Bella’s warning? Luke? Or the premonition of evil his fiery eyes had put into her mind that evening? She shivered and climbed into her wagon.

  6

  Due to the wagon train’s strenuous and demanding life, slumber seldom became a problem even under these primitive conditions. Amanda contemplated her love life and decisions for just the briefest time before falling deeply asleep. Sleeping soundly, she did not awaken when several figures climbed into the rear of her wagon. Not until the crouched shadows touched her as she slept did she start in fright.

  Gasping, she held her blanket to her throat and strained to see in the darkness. The intruders stood frozen over her bedroll. When her eyes adjusted and focused, she could make out four men. She recognized them as Indians by their colorful dress, headbands, and painted faces. The whites of their eyes glowed ominously in the darkness.

  Too numb to speak, Amanda froze in the corner of her bedroll, blanket pulled tightly to her chin. She wondered if this were a dream and she’d awaken any second and laugh over this nightmare. Then the tallest Indian nudged the short, stocky one beside him and she knew this was real.

  The short Indian covered her mouth while the tall one reached for her arms. Though gentle, the grasp felt firm. Amanda panicked, and kicked and fought--to no avail.

  Competently, they tied her hands, bound something cloth-like about her mouth, and tied it behind her head. The third Indian roped her feet together while the fourth wrapped her tightly inside her own blanket.

  She lay completely helpless as they lifted and threw her gently over the tall Indian’s shoulder. They had done it all in complete silence. Out of habit, Amanda began to pray, then caught herself quickly: I can’t pray! He didn’t help me before, why should He now?

  Feeling the cool air on her face and the gait of the man beneath her, Amanda knew they were not only out into the night, but running at a swift pace. Often she felt tree limbs snap her face or snag her blanket. She recalled seeing woods near their camp and knew she was now being carried through them.

  Stories she’d heard about what Indians did to white women raced through her mind. Amanda recalled seeing women recoil from the terrible tales and hearing them tell how they would kill themselves before letting an Indian molest them.

  Amanda had stopped fighting once they’d tied her securely. It would be useless and waste her strength. She relaxed now as she was toted through the darkness.

  They seemed to travel for hours. Their pace, which had slowed from a run to a trot, now became a fast walk, which suited her better, as it jostled her less. Then, they mounted horses and one of them held her laying over the horn of his saddle. She was once again jostled, and she felt pain from the saddle horn pressing into her stomach.

  A stray thought darted through Amanda’s mind: They’ve been so gentle, at least so far! They hadn’t spoken either, she realized. Had they treated her roughly and spoken to her rudely, she’d have been frantic, instead of merely frightened. Where were they taking her and why?

  Finally Amanda could see the light of dawn filtering through the foliage. Whatever the ordeal, it has to be better to face it in daylight, she thought with relief.

  Moments later her entourage came to a sudden halt. Where were they? The tall Indian eased her from his horse and set her down, while another took her by the shoulders and slid her sideways into a tent. As she quickly glanced at the stranger who’d carried her, another kind of fear overwhelmed Amanda. This blue-eyed man was not an Indian.

  Fear clutched at her throat. Why would a white man disguise himself as an Indian? It seemed only slightly less foreboding than a bona fide Indian. Did these men have foul play in mind? Who were they, and why did they want her?

  Closing the tent flap behind them, they left her alone, lying upon her back. Their shadows leapt against the outside of the tent, and whispers broke the silence.

  She struggled with her bonds, but they remained secure as she knew they would. Amanda could do nothing but wait. Suddenly the reality of the situation hit her like a hammer. Her fright, her helplessness, and even sudden thoughts of home and Mama, Pa, Phillip, and Hazel Jane flooded her mind. All self-control and bravery gone, she began to cry softly, then loudly, until her weeping became full-fledged sobs of despair.

  She hadn’t wanted to crumble, but though she tried to stop, she couldn’t. The sobs grew louder. Through her tears she noticed the tent become flooded with light as someone opened the flap and entered. Amanda had no idea what affect her sobbing would have on her captors. Would they become angry? Would they kill her? For all her fears and trying, she could not cease.

  The man who’d entered the tent touched her shoulder gently. “Please don’t cry,” he whispered sympathetically.

  Surprised by the tenderness, Amanda’s tears subsided somewhat. Reduced to those horrid after-crying hiccups, she stared blankly at the man. It was the tall one, who’d carried her. He still had the white stripes painted on his cheeks but seemed less terrifying.

  “There, there.” He patted her head. “No one is going to harm you. I promise. We didn’t hurt you, did we?” He gently removed the cloth binding her mouth.

  Amanda stared at him. Despite his war paint and the bandana with a feather and all, he looked not only friendly, but also familiar. Yet she knew she’d never met this man before. “W-who are y-you?” she stuttered between hiccups.

  “I can’t tell you yet.”

  “W-why did you ta-take me?”

  “For your own good, I can tell you that.” She looked at him curiously.

  “When Luke gets here, he’ll explain. He made us promise not to tell you a thing until he got here. But I couldn’t bear hearing you cry.” He looked down at her with soft blue eyes. “I have sisters … and you seemed so distraught.” Amanda’s eyes had widened the moment she’d heard Luke’s name.

  “L-Luke?” sh
e stammered. “Luke who?”

  The man smiled. “Luke Sterling, my brother.”

  “Oh! For a moment I thought you meant a friend of mine, Luke West.”

  He smiled. “Just relax and don’t cry. We aren’t going to harm you. Luke will explain everything as soon as he gets here.”

  He left the tent, and Amanda sighed with relief. Despite all her unanswered questions and fears, she fell soundly asleep.

  The sound of male voices raised in greetings awoke Amanda with a jolt. She mentally scolded herself for falling asleep at such a time. Here her life was in danger, and she slept. Had that young man’s kindness relaxed her that much?

  By the sound of things outside, their man Luke had arrived. Maybe now she’d find out what was going on. But when the figure burst into the tent, Amanda gasped in surprise and anger. “Luke West!”

  He fell to his knees beside her. “Are you all right, Amanda?” he asked solicitously.

  “You!” she cried. “What have you to do with this?”

  “Answer me, first. Are you all right?” he insisted.

  “Oh, I’m fine. I was kidnapped by four ‘Indians,’ toted piggyback through the forest, dumped into a tent, and left for who knows what purpose. My hands are tied behind me and numb; my feet are…” she sighed. “I’ve never been better,” she continued sarcastically. “How kind of you to ask.”

  “Jared!” he yelled, without taking his eyes from hers. The tall, sympathetic man entered.

  “Why is she still tied? Cut her free at once!”

  “But you said-“

  “Free her at once!” Luke demanded.

  Jared unsheathed the knife secured on his belt and rolled Amanda onto her side to slice through her ropes. “You may leave,” Luke ordered.

  Jared shrugged and left the tent.

  “Luke West,” Amanda said between gritted teeth, “what is the meaning of this?”

  “I’m not Luke West. I used that name on the train. My name is Luke Sterling.”

  Amanda closed her eyes. She was losing patience. “All right, Mr. Sterling, what is going on?”

  “Three of those ‘Indians’ are my brothers, Jared, Aaron, and Robert. The short one is a family friend and an actual half-breed Indian, whose name is Jonathan, but we all call him Jack. We come from a large ranch in Texas and are hunting for our sister Celia, whom we have been led to believe was coerced away by your fiancé, Mr. Pierce, in Saint Louis.”

  Amanda sighed. “First of all, Charles is not my fiancé. I doubt he coerced anyone. And you said your sister had died.”

  “I said I’d lost a loved one. We don’t know if she is alive or not. We traced her to having been last seen with him. We’ve followed him, and we think we have him red handed, stealing women for his-- his hotel in San Francisco.”

  “Why do you say hotel in such a way? It is a hotel.”

  Luke looked away. “He runs a hotel that is also a gambling hall and brothel.”

  “Brothel!” Amanda gasped, blushing. “You mean, he- the women.” She thought a moment, during the embarrassed silence, then asked, “How do you know all this?”

  “We had him thoroughly investigated. While I traveled with the train, I kept my eye on him. From time to time I met my brothers at certain prearranged points, to get more information and to prepare to close in on him.”

  “So why kidnap me? Why didn’t you grab him?”

  “You were going to marry the . . . the--“

  “I was not!”

  “I heard the whole blasted conversation...”

  Amanda sat up, placed her hands on her hips, and cried, “You listened?”

  Staring fixedly at the ground, Luke muttered, “Said I was keeping my eye on him.”

  Amanda sighed, shaking her head. “So you whisked me off so I wouldn’t marry him? Is that it?”

  “Partly. I also was protecting you from two other things.”

  “I can’t wait to hear this,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “He planned on using you in his establishment and had no intention of marrying you. While I was eavesdropping on you and him, I also spotted your friend Bella spying on you and Charles. She, I’m afraid, had something more sinister planned for you.”

  “How could you possibly know that Charles didn’t really want to marry me?” she pouted.

  “Because he used that same story on other girls. There are crazed people in this world, and right now most of them are out west, looking for gold. They actually pay money to be with innocent, sweet girls like you. The other kind of girls are a dime a dozen out there.”

  Amanda blushed. She knew he spoke the truth. Suddenly she recalled Louise “What about Louise? Did you steal her, too?” Amanda asked.

  “Yep. She’s on her way to our ranch now. My mother will help her get on her feet and find her family. Edward, my oldest brother, and Juan, one of our hands, are escorting her. As soon as the effect of Ma’s medicine wore off, she was fine and gave me more information than anyone yet about your Charles.”

  “That wasn’t tonic in her oatmeal? Ma was drugging Louise?”

  Luke nodded. “Under Charles’s orders, and her name isn’t Louise, but Frances Porter. She is from a farming family near Saint Louis, where she was coerced into friendship with Charles, then kidnapped and drugged. What do you think of wonderful Charles Pierce now?”

  Amanda crossed her arms. “I’m still mighty angry, Luke Sterling. Seems to me there could have been a less frightening way to do this. Couldn’t you have warned me? Confided in me? This kidnapping was outrageous.”

  “I didn’t have time. When I heard him propose and saw your dreamy look again, I gave the guys the signal. It had to be last night.” He looked at her earnestly. “You wouldn’t have believed me anyway. You thought him wonderful.”

  Amanda rubbed her temples. Too much had happened too fast. She could hardly believe Charles ran a brothel, though she knew it was true. All the pieces fit together. She wondered what effect all this would have on her, and her plans to reach San Francisco and Aunt Hattie.

  She studied him thoughtfully. “What will you do with me now?”

  “I don’t know. Have someone escort you back to the ranch, too, I suppose.”

  She’d oppose that, she thought, yet said only “And you?”

  “I’ll continue to follow Pierce until he leads me to Celia, or I discover what happened to her. I think Ma knows. Maybe I can get her to talk.”

  Hoping to try a different strategy on Luke, she offered, “It’s possible I could be of help.”

  “No, from here on it becomes too dangerous.”

  Amanda’s lower lip protruded in a childish pout. “I’m not going to any ranch. Either I help you find Celia, or I go back to the train.” Then something occurred to her. She hit her head with her hand, “Oh, Luke, everything I own is in that wagon, I have to go back!”

  “No.” He stood and turned to leave the tent. “And if you argue, I’ll have Jared tie you up again.”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “Try me.” He turned and left her alone with her anger.

  Amanda pounded her fists into the side of the tent. He can’t do this to me! I’ve got to go back. I’ve got to get to San Francisco and dear Aunt Hattie.

  Once washed clean in a small spring-fed creek, Amanda felt better but wished she had a decent dress. Mama had warned her to sleep in an old dress while on the trail, in case an emergency arose. That advice had been sound, yet Amanda felt uncomfortable in the loose, waistless, wrinkled cotton dress. She also pined for her other priceless possessions. How could she persuade Luke to let her return to the wagon train?

  The smell of fried fish floated through the air, and her stomach nudged her, reminding her she hadn’t eaten in some time. She followed the aroma to the nearby campfire. Sitting on a stump, she studied the mysterious group of men around it.

  Her eyes fell on Jared first---the tall one---taller than his brother Luke, yet as rugged, except his eyes weren’t as expressive or sensit
ive. He was as pleasing to look upon as Luke, but lacked his brother’s boyish charm. His best features, she decided, were his soft, kind face and compassionate nature.

  Next she scanned the man Jared addressed as Aaron.

  While the others talked and joked as they cleaned, sliced, and fried fresh fish in a large frying pan over the open fire, he remained silent and contemplative. Perhaps he was a thinker. Not unsociable, merely separated by his private thoughts, he smiled now and then at some joke or statement but, Amanda thought, remained detached and in his own world.

  His hair was black, unlike Luke or Jared’s sandy heads. But he looked handsome, and appeared to prefer the indoors--perhaps reading.

  A man they called Robert did most of the joking and talking. His sense of humor seemed to keep everyone in a lively mood. His reddish-brown hair---his best feature— was thick and wavy. While also quite good looking, the large space between his front teeth created a whistle when he pronounced “s” sounds.

  Amanda’s eyes fell on a man who must be Jack, the half-breed. She chuckled to herself. Jared had looked more like an Indian last night than the real one did now. The only traits she could see in Jack that betrayed his heritage were his high cheekbones, straight but short black hair, and perhaps his small, dark eyes. His skin was only slightly darker than that of the other men. Jack’s English was flawless. The other men were trying, without luck, to strip the fish of its spine and bones with one slice, as Jack could.

  Looking up suddenly, Luke smiled, walked to where she sat, and said with all his boyish charm, “Still angry with me?”

  Amanda spun around, showing him her back. She knew if she had looked at him a moment longer she’d have melted. No. If she was to get her way, she must not let him get the best of her.

  She heard his arms fall to his sides and a sigh of frustration. Silence. Why didn’t he speak? Was he plotting how to charm her into his good graces again? Be strong, she warned herself. There is a lot at stake. She must gain possession of her family’s treasures, her clothes, and her wagon.