by Amy Sandas
But unsmiling.
Startled by his unexpected proximity, Evelyn flinched when he lifted his hand, realizing belatedly that he held a canteen and was offering it to her.
He did not react to her obvious fear. Instead, he remained still—his expression flat as his eyes held hers. “It’s water,” he said.
His voice matched the rest of him—richly complex and powerful. Something strange rolled through her at the sound. Like anticipation of a storm when you hear the rumble of distant thunder, but warmer.
Her lashes flickered as she glanced down at the canteen. She was unbelievably thirsty, but how could she trust anything offered by men who held her captive?
“If you want to survive, you’ll drink the water and eat the food,” he said quietly. The words were just between them. Still she did not reach for the canteen. “You want to live?” he asked, raising a brow.
Evelyn lifted her chin, regaining eye contact with the man, despite her uncertainty and fear. “Yes, I want to live,” she replied, surprising herself by the conviction in her words.
With a single, short nod, he extended the canteen a bit more. “Then drink.”
She lifted her hands to take the water, but because of the binding rope and her frozen fingers, she couldn’t grasp it.
Realizing her predicament, he gave a quiet grunt, then set the canteen on the ground and reached for her wrists. His large, warm hands surrounded her curled fists. He held them in silence for a moment—as if his only intention was to share his heat and offer comfort.
Though Evelyn felt the icy stiffness in her fingers dissipating, she resisted the instinctive desire to accept anything more. But she didn’t pull away.
And she wasn’t sure why.
“Don’t be scared,” he stated, still in a private tone. “You won’t be hurt.”
She searched his gaze in the darkness. She wanted to believe him, but she knew far too well how easily a man could hide wicked intent. “I am not so naive,” she replied, her voice barely more than a murmur of sound.
He did nothing to indicate he heard her reply as he released his hold on her hands and deftly loosened the ropes. He did not remove them altogether, but he allowed for a bit of freedom to use her hands more effectively. Then he picked up the canteen and offered it once again.
Evelyn managed to bring it to her lips this time and took a few long drinks. The water soothed her throat, but it also made her very aware of her empty stomach. Lowering the canteen, she offered it back to the man who remained patiently beside her. Watching her in silence.
His nearness was discomfiting. As were his size and his quiet manner.
She had no idea what to make of him. There was strength in him, something his muscled form attested to without effort, but he displayed not the slightest hint of temper or violence.
Of course, Matthew hadn’t either…until something set him off.
The outlaw took the canteen, never shifting his gaze from hers. Not even when the voices around the fire rose higher in discord.
“Shit,” the young one named Ramsey exclaimed, frustration clear in his tone. “We can still ransom the woman. I mean, look at her.”
Evelyn stiffened under the sudden flood of attention. The man crouched before her was still watching her carefully, and she feared she might have revealed her trepidation when his brows lowered over his gaze.
Did she really believe she was better off with these outlaws than in her husband’s hands?
Yes. Yes, she did. But that didn’t mean she was not in danger.
He stared at her for a moment longer before he rose to his feet and walked away without a word, leaving the canteen on the ground beside her. She couldn’t keep her gaze from following his powerful form as he melted into the darkness beyond the fire while the others continued discussing her fate.
She expected to release a breath of relief at being left alone again, but it didn’t come.
“With her fancy clothes and fine airs, there’s gotta be someone somewhere who’ll be willing to pay good money to get her back.”
Evelyn listened to the exchange with increasing tension. These men were right about one thing. Her husband would no doubt be willing to pay a small fortune to get her back. But there was nothing in the world that would convince her to tell them that.
“You bloody pea brain,” the redheaded British man interjected. “We don’t just go around kidnapping any lady we come across. We had a mark, and we missed it.”
“Well, we’ve got her now,” Eli noted. “And Ramsey’s right about her people. We could still get a payday off her.” He shrugged almost apologetically. “I know it’s not how we normally do things, but it could be an opportunity we’d be stupid to pass up.”
“I say we take her to Luke and let him make the call,” Jackson suggested in a rational tone that seemed to resonate with the others as several of them nodded in agreement.
Evelyn did not like the idea of continuing in the company of these men, but it was becoming apparent that she wouldn’t be able to convince the entire group to let her go. Not when they couldn’t even decide amongst themselves what to do with her. She might, however, have a chance at convincing their leader. Since they hadn’t intended to take her in the first place, maybe he’d be reasonable about it.
But if he ended up agreeing with some of his men that she would be worth a ransom, he would end up disappointed.
She was never going back. She would do anything in her power to avoid that.
She couldn’t fight these outlaws—not in a physical way—but she could listen and learn and plot and plan. And when the right opportunity presented itself, she’d take full advantage.
She had to.
Nothing about her current situation could be considered fortunate, but whatever might befall her now, as least she hadn’t landed back into Matthew’s cruel hands. He hadn’t found her. She remained out of reach. Perhaps even more so with this bunch.
A deep shiver ran through her as the encroaching chill of night crept around her. Her spot against the tree was some distance from the fire—too far for her to get much benefit from the heat of the flames. She didn’t think it was the intention of the outlaws to freeze her to death, but she considered the possibility of it happening anyway.
The dress she wore was perfectly suited to traveling by train in the spring. Though designed with draping layers and a sizable bustle as was the style, it was of light material to be comfortable for long days. Her undergarments were of cotton rather than flannel or wool since they were intended for comfort, not warmth. And her boots were serviceable, but made of soft suede, not thick leather. It was not an ensemble designed for spending great lengths of time out of doors…at night…near the mountains where the temperature had seemed to drop dramatically now that the sun was out of sight. And her shawl was still tucked into her traveling bag.
Dreadful panic swept through her on an icy wave.
Her traveling bag had been left behind on the train, tucked safely beneath her seat. All her money was in that bag. It was everything she had to start a new life. Without it, she was completely adrift.
That money was her lifeline. The one thing that gave her a little security as she faced the prospect of going out into the world alone. It was her link to survival. And now it was gone.
She steeled herself against the hopelessness that threatened to claim her. She could not allow its weight to crush her. She would find another way. She had left Boston because she wanted to live without fear and degradation. She wanted to be free.
She wouldn’t give up, but another bone-chilling shiver coursed through her, punctuating her thoughts with the reality of the challenges she faced. She swept a glance over the men gathered near the fire. Every one of them was a threat to her well-being…
But they weren’t Matthew.
She noticed that the large, quiet man had not ye
t rejoined his friends, and just as she had the thought, he appeared from the shadows directly in front of her.
She stilled, practically holding her breath as he approached.
He moved with an unusual combination of purpose and stealth, emerging from the night as though he were a part of it. It was fascinating to see such a large man move with such silent grace. So fascinating that it took her a moment to realize he carried something in his hands. When he reached her, the breadth of his shoulders completely blocked the light of the fire, and his face fell into total darkness.
She wanted to ignore him and the intense awareness she experienced in his presence. An awareness that was astoundingly similar to fear but remained a different thing entirely. She didn’t understand what it was. Something about him compelled her gaze. She couldn’t look away. Her pride—that damnable thing inside her that had so aggravated Matthew—forced her to sit straight and unflinching against the tree, though her muscles tensed sharply, drawing the injured skin taut across her back.
Looking down at her, the man seemed to pause. Just for a moment. And though he did nothing to suggest it, Evelyn suddenly felt like he could see right through her facade of courage and fortitude. As though his hidden gaze could see everything she tried to conceal. Her uncertainty. Her weakness. Her pain.
She wanted to deny it. To prove she was stronger than she appeared. But it would have been pointless.
He released a heavy sigh that she nearly didn’t hear. Then he gently shook out the blanket he carried and draped it over her. It covered her from chest to toe and smelled faintly of horse and leather. It was made of rough wool that gently abraded the skin of her hands, but its weight and warmth was decidedly welcome.
Again, he offered comfort.
Warmth rushed to her skin as she experienced a flash of embarrassment, though she wasn’t exactly sure why. She parted her lips to say thank you, but the man straightened to full height and walked away as silently as he’d arrived.
A few minutes later, Eli approached with a loose swagger and a plate of food.
“I’ll release your hands so you can eat, but I’ll have to tie you up again after. Can’t have you running off in the night.”
As if she would head out into the wilderness on her own.
Evelyn nodded and lifted her hands from the blanket so he could undo the ropes.
He left her to eat the beans and crust of dry bread in peace, returning a bit later to take her plate and replace the ropes. “You’d best get some sleep. You’ve got a long day of riding tomorrow.”
Evelyn could not relax for a long time.
Instead, she watched and listened to the men around the fire. With their decision made on what to do with her, they talked of inconsequential things: a new saddle, a woman named Marion with large breasts from some unnamed town, a foal that had just been born.
None of them seemed to take much note of Evelyn other than to send a glance in her direction every now and then to assure themselves she was still there.
After a while, despite the tension and uncertainty riding high within her, her eyes drifted closed of their own volition and the men’s voices became more muted. The crackle of the fire lulled her into a strange state of wary half-consciousness.
That was when she finally heard the quiet man’s voice. “I will take her.” He spoke softly, but his tone was clear and strong in the midst of so many others. He hadn’t joined the conversation until that moment, so the low timbre immediately drew her sleepy attention.
“Why you?” someone asked. She thought it was young, impulsive Ramsey, but exhaustion had claimed her mental acuity along with her physical strength, and she couldn’t be sure.
“Because it makes sense,” came the even-toned reply she now associated with Jackson. “We have to split up anyway, and Gabe’s horse is best suited to carry two riders through the pass.”
Someone chuckled—Eli probably, since the sound brought to mind his wide grin and blue eyes. “It’ll be a mighty dull ride. That woman talks even less than you do.”
“There’re other things to do beside talking,” Ramsey offered with lascivious suggestion, making Evelyn’s muscles tighten beneath the wool blanket.
“Shut the bloody hell up, Ramsey,” the Brit admonished in a sharp tone. “We don’t hurt women.”
“Right,” Ramsey grumbled. “I’s just joking.”
“Well, don’t bother. The only thing funny about you is the size of your ears.”
The others laughed at that, and the rolling sounds finally managed to send Evelyn into a reluctant and uneasy slumber.
Five
The man narrowed his steely gaze and read through the message for the fourth time.
Despite its length, it provided very little detail, even fewer facts, and a whole lot of speculative assumptions. Either the sender knew next to nothing about the circumstances for which they expressed their deep concern, or they were purposely trying to conceal the whole truth of it.
For a man who liked to know all there was to know about a job before he agreed to take it on, the situation was less than ideal. He did not like working under supposition and theory, but he’d done it before. Most often, that was when his instincts and intuition came to the fore, leading him in a straighter line to the prize than if he followed a path laid by someone else.
Regardless of how it’d come to him, he’d have to take the job.
His stubborn and insistent partner hadn’t exactly given him a choice in the matter, but even if they had, he’d rather see the task completed himself than pass it on to anyone else.
The message didn’t reveal any clear and obvious threat of danger, but it was heavily implied, and that was enough for him.
Six
Gabriel Sloan, known by most as Gabe and by a spare few as something else altogether, sat cross-legged on his blanket, staring across the smoldering coals to where the young woman slept. She still sat upright against the tree but had curled herself into a ball beneath his blanket. Her legs were bent and drawn in snug to her chest, and her face was tucked down toward her knees.
She’d probably been cold through the night.
More than once he’d considered bringing her nearer to the fire, but that would have brought her closer to the men, and something about her suggested she preferred the distance.
Also, moving her would have required that he touch her. Something she definitely wouldn’t have welcomed.
He sipped his coffee, figuring he could afford to let her sleep a while longer. The others had all taken off some time ago, and it was just the two of them now. Old Pete and Jackson were taking the long way back and would hopefully lead anyone who’d thought to track them from the train on a bit of a journey. Eli had a job to take care of in South Pass City before heading home, and Gentleman George had been tasked with seeing that Ramsey got back to camp and explained his error to Luke.
The kid was going to catch hell for taking the wrong woman.
Luke chose their jobs carefully based on specific criteria. His methods had served them all pretty well over the years. Sarah Cummings was to have brought in a hefty ransom. Ramsey’s mistake cost them all.
After draining the last of his coffee, Gabriel tossed out the grounds still sitting in the bottom of his cup and rinsed it clean. There was a bit more coffee being kept warm on the last of the coals in case the woman wanted any, but she’d have to use his cup. It was all he had.
He sat back to wait.
It wasn’t much longer before the woman stirred. She lifted her head first, letting it rest back against the tree trunk. Then she straightened her legs in a limited stretch that drew a soft, breathy moan from her lips.
She was going be stiff, her muscles tight. Riding all day was going be tough on her.
Gabriel watched in silence as she drifted into full consciousness. He saw the moment she recalled her situation. Her b
ody tensed beneath the blanket. Her spine straightened, and her hands came up as her eyes opened. Then her stark, clear blue gaze slammed straight into his.
Everything in him tightened. Painfully. Instantly. Just as it had last night when she’d stared at him across the fire. The only difference was that today there were no wavering shadows or flickering firelight.
He expected more of the fear he’d seen in her the night before. Most women would be horrified to awaken in his company with their limbs bound and no one else around for miles.
The woman took a second to scan the camp with a sweep of her lashes. When her gaze returned to him, he couldn’t quite make out what he saw in her eyes, but there was something unusual hidden in the soft blue. Something deeper than basic fear, something complex and curious.
He couldn’t believe Ramsey had thought this woman to be anywhere near thirty years of age. Her brow was smooth, her skin completely unmarked. And her cheeks were still soft with youth. Though she had a rather strong jaw, her mouth with its lush fullness and elegant arches balanced the effect. As did her large, light eyes shining from a frame of thick lashes. Her hair was a very pale shade of blond that made him think of sunlight on a winter day.
As he analyzed her appearance, he noted her growing discomfort. He should probably say something to put her at ease, though he doubted anything would.
“Coffee?”
The single word, spoken after the length of silence, sounded aggressive even to him. So, he wasn’t surprised when her eyes flickered in reaction. But then she gave a small nod.
Her blue eyes followed his every movement as he rose to his feet and approached the fire, poured the coffee into his cup, and started toward her. He’d long ago learned to move slowly and deliberately around people who might see him as a threat. It didn’t help that he had grown to an intimidating size.
As he neared her, he was surprised to note that she did not look away or cast her gaze downward. Despite her obvious fear, there was an innate strength inside her that preferred to face him directly.
