Authors: Alex Taylor Wolfe
She stood in the middle of the tent
, her hair disheveled and her skirts covered in dirt with sagebrush bits clinging to the threads. Logan slipped a pair of handcuffs out of his back pocket and held them up for her to see.
“Do I need to use these?” His voice was gruff but the anger was gone.
Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “No, I promise to stay put.”
“I
swear I will cuff you to the cot, the saddle horn, and even my belt loop if you give me so much as the smallest problem from here on out, do you understand me?”
Annabelle dropped her eyes to the floor and nodded her head. She heard him fiddle with the ties
on the tent for a moment then he turned back to face her. “Go to bed now, we’re heading out at first light.” Then he was gone.
In one last act of rebellion she hurried back to the tent flap and securely tied the ties again. Suddenly
Bella was too tired to even think and she stumbled to the bed and pulled the blankets, dress, and everything over her tired body. The last thing she remembered was Logan’s lips on her neck.
“Annie, Annie
!”
She could hear her mother calling her from outside and smell the bacon and eggs. It had been months since they had eaten bacon, it wasn’t something they could afford. Her bed was warm, although a little lumpy, but Annabelle didn’t want the sweet sound of her mother’s voice to leave. “Annie, Annie, Annie…”
“Annabelle!”
She sat up with a jerk, where was she? Then it dawned on her she was still in the tent, somewhere far away from where she needed to be. The persistent voice called again.
“M
iss Casey, Annabelle!”
“What
?” her voice wheezed, sounding very much like a sick bullfrog.
“You need to get up, we’ve gotta get moving.”
It was Logan’s rich baritone ringing though the morning air.
She rubbed her face with both hands and
stretched. It was early and she was still so tired, and every corner and crevice of her body ached. The night had been a jumbled mass of bad dreams and tossing and turning. Laying back down, she pulled the skirts up around her shoulders and yawned. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep and find her mother again. Refusing to open her eyes again she listened as Logan tried to pull the tent flap back only to find it tied closed.
“Who the
hell tied this closed?”
She smiled a wicked smile. “Me!”
“Well untie it!” It was a direct command.
“NO!” The smile got bigger.
“Annabelle, you untie this or I am going to take the tent down around you.”
She laughed, it rang
through the river valley like the song of a bird and she clasped her hand over her mouth startled by the sound. Peeking open one eye she looked over at the door and tried her best to be serious. “You could try saying please.”
He growled outside the tent. This woman was
absurdly frustrating and drove him mad. She was his hostage for Pete’s sake. Rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck he took a deep breath. Why did everything with her need to be so painful? His left shoulder ached especially from their tumble in the brush the night before. He was sure if he took a closer look at his arms and legs he would be covered with cuts and bruises. “Annabelle…”
“Who?” her voice was
still playful.
“M
iss Casey,” he said through gritted teeth, “would you
please
come untie the tent and join us for breakfast?”
Her dress
rustled inside and a few minutes later he could see the tent flap move under her hands. A few moments later she poked her head out and smiled radiantly at him. “I’d love to.”
All he could do was look at her for a few moments. Her eyes looked bright
, blue, and calm, unlike the last time he had seen them. The strawberry hair was tamed into a thick braid down her back and her rose lips were stretched across a perfect and petite mouth. She was quite possibly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and the thought of their brief intimate moment the night before flashed though his mind.
Before he could speak she
disappeared back into the tent. He was to afraid to look in after her so he just waited. There was a strange sound of ripping fabric and moments later she returned with part of a petticoat slung around her shoulders for warmth. Politely she lifted her dress and stepped out of the door and around his still unmoved body. A faint honeysuckle fragrance followed her slight frame and Logan squelched a growl. Man, she smelled good. Shaking his head he furrowed his brow. What the heck was wrong with him?
Annabelle smiled at everyone that morning during breakfast. Logan put Kit in charge of her while they broke camp but when it was time to mount up he hovered around her. She hoped she
wouldn’t need to ride with him again or that he wouldn’t tie her wrists; she wondered if he trusted her enough to let her be free. After last night she wouldn’t be surprised if he used those dreaded handcuffs. Without waiting to see what Mr. Bailey’s plan was for her, she pulled one of the stagecoach horses over to a stump and slipped on him bareback. The wagon tack had been cut back and now the reins were a usable length for single riding. She chose the traditional male position over sidesaddle and draped her legs over either side of the animal’s warm flanks. Her dress was long enough she only exposed her high boots, completely modest in her opinion.
Once she had adjusted herself properly she looked around from her perch. Every man in the area was staring at her. Logan
fairly glared at her; Kit gave her a warm smile and quickly swung up in his saddle then walked his burgundy mare over to her.
“
Mornin’ ma’am” he said, tipping his hat and giving her a flirty wink.
“Good morning
, Kit.” She gave him a dazzling smile and batted her eyelashes like he was the last man on earth.
Logan watched the
exchange, unsure he liked what he saw. He threw one long leg over the back of his buckskin gelding and then grabbed the reins of Annabelle’s horse, pulling them from her hands. She was acting strangely and the last thing he needed was for her to try to escape again. Kit blatantly glared at him but Logan just glared back and jammed his hat on his head. They weren’t going to get anywhere with Kit flirting like a lovesick pup. He hadn’t mentioned Annabelle’s attempted escape but his sore body was enough to remind him not to trust their red-headed captive. His friend seemed unfazed by the lady’s strange behavior and continued chatting in a friendly manner with Annabelle. She did not fight Logan when he took the lead only smiled even brighter at Kit. Logan grumbled a ‘head out’ and everyone followed him out of camp.
Annabelle had opted out of all the petticoats and stuck them in a cranny in the chuck
wagon. Lars, the cook, wanted to protest, but when she smiled sweetly at him, he willingly agreed. She had only kept her improvised shawl and soon the sun had warmed her enough she laid it across her lap. The beautiful dress had lost its stiffness and hung lifelessly around her. The puff sleeves still only covered a small amount of her arms and when she felt the burn of the sun she again covered them with the wrap, this time to save herself from sunburn.
Kit went right on talking to her all morning long. He was nice and easy to
converse with, so much like her brother. Finally, Logan called him up next to him and she surveyed her surroundings for a bit. They had left the river bottom and its rocky banks, along with the little lush greenery which had made its way up in the moist earth. Now the ground was covered in short brown weeds and sagebrush. In the distance she could see the hills gradually reaching to high peaks then to the mountains. They seemed a very long ways away. The browns and oranges mixed with veins of red and purple and made her feel like she was walking in a painting. The wind had picked up and she was glad she had her hair pulled back and out of her face. She wished she had her bonnet and she grimaced as she touched her red nose.
Somewhat regretfully she watched as Kit took the
reins from Logan and narrowed her eyes as Logan slowed his pace to match hers. It had been easy to keep her cool with Kit, but Logan was a whole different story. If he would just keep his cocky mouth shut maybe they could have a civilized conversation. Why did he have to come back here and ruin a perfectly good day?
“We are almost there
,” he said like she should know where they were going.
“Where?”
“My home; we are almost to Hope.”
Her eyebrow
rose. She had never heard of the place and she wondered what awful place he was going to keep her in tonight.
“The town of Hope is my home, and we are almost there.”
He rolled his eyes like she was a small child.
Her blood boiled
inside her, but she bit her tongue. It would do her no good to point out she had absolutely no idea what he was talking about; he was as thick-headed as a mule after all. He didn’t say anything more to her and they rode in an uncomfortable silence.
“I
meant what I said last night.”
She l
ooked at him with her pale blue eyes. “What part did you mean, that I was a princess or that I was a hellcat? Or maybe it was the part about handcuffing me to your pants?” Try as she might she couldn’t help spewing angry words at him.
His jaw worked as he tried to remain in control. Finally he seemed to swallow his gruff retort and
he licked his lips before his calm voice startled her. “About being sorry. I guess I am just not really comfortable around other people.”
One eyebrow
raised and she feigned surprise, “Oh really?”
He felt the twitch of frustration flicker inside
him again, but he pushed it down and just looked incredulously at her. She gave him a faint smile and then watched as she studied her hands which were intertwined in the mane of her horse.
Again he was struck with her beauty. She was so young and he wondered if she had experienced any hardship at all.
Her skin was milky and soft with the exception of her red nose; she must have not spent much time in the sun at all. He chuckled to himself; she almost looked helpless there on the back of the pony, but a memory of her hands slapping his bare chest reminded him otherwise. It was going to take more than those sweet smiles of hers to distract him; he wasn’t going to let her lull him into complacency.
His lack of response seemed to cool her own hot head and she felt sorry for her wickedness. He had been perfectly nice to her this
morning; she should at least try to be civil with him. He had made himself abundantly clear to her the night before in the tent he had no problem holding her against her will in a very uncomfortable manner. She wasn’t about to be subject to being tied up again, and if he was true to his word she would be free in just a couple of days. Again she felt guilty about her behavior.
“Well
, I’m sorry, too. I guess I’m just worried about…”she said looking back at him, glad she had stopped talking. If he understood why she was so upset he might forgive her for being so rude. But it was far too embarrassing to say she had sold herself as a bride. No one would really understand that unless they were faced with it.
“
Miss Casey, I have no intention of hurting you, this doesn’t really have anything to do with you at all.”
“I know that Mr.
Sevier is very rich, why don’t you just ask him for help?”
He scoffed his eyes full of amusement. “Mr.
Sevier doesn’t give anyone anything.”
“But he gave…” No
, it wasn’t her place to tell him.
Logan glared at her, “
He gave what?”
“Well, he was willing to give me a home.”
Yes, he was, but for what price, Logan thought. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. It was ridiculous for her to defend the man, Logan knew all about how he oiled his way into people’s lives then took what really meant anything to them. He set his jaw and looked ahead. The rounded tops of the hills signaled they were nearly to a resting place.
Annabelle saw the change is his face and decided not to push the subject, if she did it may slip out that she didn’t know Mr.
Sevier at all, and how stupid would she sound then? Absentmindedly, she touched the tender spot on her forehead. It still hurt but the cut wasn’t bleeding anymore. She would be nicely healed before she was returned. The anticipation she had felt about that the day before fluttered in her stomach and she drew a deep breath to calm it. One thought led to another and her anxiety for her family welled up in her breast. She had to remind herself it was only temporary and in a few days she would be right back on course.
Logan noted the way her nose wrinkled up and saw the worried look in her eyes. He also noticed how softly she
touched her head and remembered it as where he had seen a wound. He berated himself for not asking about it sooner.
“Is your head
doing better?”
She smiled shyly at him and put her hand down, not wanting to draw attention.