Wild West Wife

“Are you ready?” he asked.

She nodded.

He lifted gently. But not gently enough. With a muffled shriek, Haley soared over the horse’s back and landed hard on the other side of the animal. Jesse ducked under the gelding’s head to make sure she was all right. She sat in the dirt, her skirt up around her knees, her mouth twisted in anger and pain.

“You did that on purpose,” she said accusingly.

He raised his hands in surrender. “I didn’t. Maybe it’s just a little harder than it looks.”

Anger turned to disgust as she looked away from him. For the second time that day, Jesse found himself thinking about smiling.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me,” she commanded, as if she could read his mind.

Of course her words made the amusement rise up in his throat.

“It’s not funny!”

“Yeah, it is.”

He could almost feel her reluctance as she grudgingly rose to her knees and rubbed her rear. “All right. Maybe I underestimated the skills required to ride a horse. But I want to try again. I would rather fall a dozen times than be tied up over the saddle. Agreed?”

He met her steady gaze. He’d come up with the plan of kidnapping Stoner’s mail-order bride because he’d run out of other ways to see justice done. Once he’d made up his mind, he hadn’t allowed himself to think about the woman, or what the kidnapping might mean to her. He certainly hadn’t expected to admire her spirit.

Jesse held out his hand to her and she took it. When he pulled her to her feet, she winced and shifted her weight as if trying to ease the pain from her fall. He didn’t know a damn thing about Haley Winthrop and he didn’t want to. But one point was perfectly clear. No woman deserved to end up with a man like Lucas Stoner, and the hell of it was, if Stoner gave him the information he wanted, he, Jesse, would turn her over to her fiancé without a second thought.

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_837450e6-aba4-579a-a582-0edf4462fd5a)

Three tries later Haley found herself sitting on top of a very tall horse. The hard saddle was uncomfortable, but it was a lot better to be upright on it than thrown across it. She shifted uneasily and tried not to let her fear show. At least her skirt was full enough that the fabric fluttered down to cover most of her legs. She didn’t allow herself to think about exposed ankles and feet, which were a lot easier to ignore than the fact that a strange man had just kidnapped her.

“You gonna be able to hang on?” Jesse asked.

She nodded firmly. She might be his prisoner, but she wasn’t going to cower like a dog. If necessary, she could survive on pride and grit. She’d done it before.

Without warning, his horse started walking. As Jesse was holding on to her mount’s reins, she found herself moving forward, too. The odd swaying, rocking motion nearly caused her to slide off the saddle. She made a quick grab for the leather and clutched it tightly with both hands. Instinctively, she clung with her leg muscles. Every part of her tensed.

After a few minutes of the steady pace, she was able to loosen her grip a tiny bit. They were in a wooded area with trees so thick, the branches were practically a roof. It was still early enough in the year that not all of them had leaves, and she could look up and see patches of sky. In a few weeks the leaves would be so thick it would stay dim and cool, even during the hottest part of summer.

Below them the ground was hard, with a few patches of snow in the shaded areas. Dead leaves covered everything. She inhaled deeply, absorbing the unfamiliar smells of damp earth, the trees themselves, plants, leaves and the sweat of the horses. So different, she thought, half exhilarated, half terrified. She was used to the city. Those smells and sounds were familiar. Not pleasant, but known. Out here, she wasn’t sure what to expect.

Several strands of hair had worked loose from her tight bun and she raised one hand to push them off her face. The steady walking gait was getting easier to move with and she found herself relaxing a little more. Her heartbeat finally slowed, making her realize how hard it had been thundering and for how long. Ever since the sharp gunshot had cut through the rhythmic sounds of the stage rolling over the rough path and the carriage had crashed to the ground. One minute she’d been speeding toward her happy destiny and now...

She stared at the man in front of her. He wore a dark coat that barely came to his hips. The combination of thick fabric and broad shoulders made him look huge and forbidding. His hat was pulled low, and even if he’d been facing her, she would have had trouble seeing his eyes.

She looked away, preferring the view of the trees and plants to watching him. She didn’t want to think about what had happened or about the fact that she wouldn’t get to Whitehorn tonight. If she allowed herself to dwell on that, she would become even more afraid. Then she would shake and possibly even cry. And what use were tears? In all her twenty-one years, crying had never once accomplished anything.

But it was hard not to think about what was happening. She’d come so far, with such high hopes. After years of barely surviving in Chicago, she’d finally had a chance to be happy, only to have it snatched out of her grasp. If this...this...villain hadn’t stolen her away from the stagecoach, she would be meeting her beloved at this very moment.

Haley closed her eyes and pictured what it would be like. She touched the white collar of her green dress, the collar she’d carefully preserved throughout the difficult journey. The clean collar she’d put on only a few hours before at their last stop before Whitehorn. She raised her hand higher, to the intricately arranged hair she’d spent an hour on that morning, working in the dark, trying not to wake the two other women in the shabby room. She’d so wanted to make a good impression on Lucas Stoner.

She opened her eyes and smiled. Even his name was perfect. Lucas Stoner. He sounded strong. And tall. While their correspondence had been brief, with him simply responding to her letter of interest with a stagecoach ticket and a few lines of instructions, she’d studied his words and his handwriting until she felt certain she knew the man. Lucas Stoner was good and honorable, kind yet firm. He was the sort of man others respected. She wasn’t sure what he looked like, except perhaps for his height, of which she was very confident. But his appearance didn’t matter to her. She’d seen too many handsome men who beat their wives and children, or stole, or even killed. What she cared about was on the inside of the man and she knew Lucas Stoner was the incarnation of all pure virtues.

To think that if she’d been allowed to continue on her journey at this very moment she might be meeting him for the first time. She’d pictured the moment a thousand times. The way he would tilt his hat, then take her hand and help her down from the stage. The shy smile they would share, the polite and awkward conversation about which they would both laugh later.

But instead of beginning her new life, she was stuck on the back of a hideously uncomfortable horse, in the wilderness, facing Lord knew what.

“You’re quiet,” her captor said.

She looked at him, but he hadn’t bothered to turn around. “Yes,” she answered.

“Just making sure you’re still there.”

“You’re holding on to my horse’s reins. Where would I go?”

He did glance at her then. A long steady appraisal over his shoulder. Dark eyes met her own. “You could have slipped down and run off.”

“You would have heard me. Besides, I gave you my word.”

His firm mouth twisted slightly. “It’s going to take me a while to trust your word.”

“I hope we’re not together long enough for you to form an opinion of my honesty.”

“You’re a plucky little thing, aren’t you?”

Plucky? She raised her chin. “I’m not afraid of you, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m not afraid of anyone.”

He faced front again. “Must be nice to live that way. Fear can chew a man up inside. Like I said. Plucky. That’s good. You’re going to need that to survive out here. The land is hard on folks. Especially women.”

She glanced around at the tall trees and the endless sky beyond. Ever since they’d left Chicago, she’d been eager to see what the great West of the country had to offer. The sheer size overwhelmed her. Until she’d answered Lucas’s ad for a bride and had decided to accept his proposal, her entire world had consisted of twelve square blocks in a poor part of the city. She rarely ventured past those familiar streets.

What she’d seen on her journey had excited her. There was so much life, so much land. Different places, and people. She couldn’t remember all the wonderful sights and she’d barely been able to sleep for the excitement of trying to relive all that she’d seen during the day. Everything was bigger and the colors were brighter. Winter in Chicago was shades of gray. The sky, the snow, the dirt, even the people.

“I don’t believe it’s harder out here for women than it was in the city,” she said.

“Women die there?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Then maybe it’s just different.”

She didn’t want to think about death. Especially not now when a stranger had kidnapped her. She wanted to think about Lucas and how he would surely come rescue her.

A faint rustle caught her attention and she saw something flash through the trees. It might have been a deer, but she wasn’t sure. She opened her mouth to address the man, then snapped it shut. Was polite conversation appropriate under the circumstances? She didn’t think so.

“What should I call you?” she asked. “The stage driver called you Jesse. Is that what you prefer?”

“It doesn’t much matter. I’m Jesse Kincaid. Make do with what you’d like.”

Calling him by his first name was a little informal, but the man had stolen her away, so using Mr. Kincaid was just too strange. As she mulled over the dilemma, she noticed it was getting darker. The sun had disappeared from the visible bits of sky and the shadows lengthened perceptibly. A shiver rippled through her. Unfortunately, it wasn’t just from cold.