A Ransomed Heart (7 page)

“Yes, just a little bump, I’m fine.”

He
prodded her eyes for more information but there was none. She had been so quiet about it, not like the spoiled woman he had imagined in his mind from the moment he had discovered the engagement.  As a matter of fact she hadn’t been anything he had pictured she would be.  She must have had a very nice lifestyle to afford such an outrageous dress.  She wore a single golden necklace with a teardrop pearl pendant.  She seemed refined, unless she was upset, overall every ounce the lady Mr. Sevier would marry.  And heaven help him if she didn’t smell delicious.

On the other hand
, she was feisty and hotheaded.  She could ride a horse and little fazed her when it came to dirt, grime, and other undesirable outdoor things for women. Again his mind went to their roll in the dirt the night before. She was also soft and fragrant, but there was something hard about her, like she carried a great burden.  Maybe it was her wealth; lots of people who were born into it struggled with it.  He knew a little bit about letting money run over his principles, maybe she too was feeling the weight of her wealthy birthright.  It didn’t matter though, he reminded himself, and in a few days she would be gone, back to the comfort she was so accustomed to.  For a moment he felt his heart pull, she would have everything he would never be able to offer a woman, least of all her.

As they came around the bend Annabelle noticed the sound of running water. They had stumbled back on the little stream they had camped at the night before.
The men pulled their mounts to a stop and started slipping out of their saddles. Annabelle could have cried from relief. Her bottom was incredibly sore from the long hours in the saddle and from Logan’s paddling the night before. She also needed to use the necessities but hadn’t had the courage to ask. Kit was at her side in an instant and offered his assistance with her dismount. She nodded and sighed as her feet hit the ground.

“I’m going to need a few minutes to myself
,” she said, blushing to her boots.

“I don’t think so Miss Casey
,” Logan said, latching onto one of her elbows with his strong hand.

Annabelle looked pleadingly at Kit. “I just need a few minutes, please.”

Kit looked at Logan. “I think we should give her some privacy.”

Logan wanted to protest but it dawned on him what exactly she was asking for. He scanned the area and then pointed to a prominent patch of sagebrush. “Just over there,
but you have five minutes and then I come looking for you, finished or not.”

Annabelle nodded and hurried over to her designated spot.
It didn’t take long for her to get done and she carefully peered over the brush at the men below. Everyone, with the exception of Logan, was sitting at the edge of the stream resting. Her eyes scanned the surrounding areas and Logan was nowhere to be seen. Her mischievous side kicked in. There was a possibility, albeit a small one, that she could escape, maybe make it to this place called Hope and get some help. Surely no one would send a frightened girl back into the grips of her captor, someone would help her. Gathering her skirts up into her arms she looked once more at the men scattered around the ground. Just when she was about to bolt she heard the low rumble of Logan’s voice behind her. Annabelle literally jumped with surprise.

“Where do you think
you’re going, Miss Casey?”

Her hands
were clutched to her breast still holding the fabric of her dress. “How long have you been there?”

His eyebrows
rose. “Long enough to know you are done…uhm, finished here.”

Her skirts rustled as they fell from her hands. “You scared
the socks off of me, Mr. Bailey.”

He came around to face her, his blue eyes glittering in the sunlight. “You weren’t thinking of running off again were you?”

She laughed nervously. That was exactly what she was thinking, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. “No, of course not.”

“Good, but I brought these along just in case.” He held up his hand and
hanging from his finger were the dreaded handcuffs.

In a moment of brief insanity Annabelle reached out and tried to snatch them away from him. He grabbed her wrist and before she could react he had her against his body. “Don’t play with me
, girl. I’m a desperate man, and desperate men sometimes do desperate things.”

His face was inches from hers
and she could see the moisture from his tongue as it traveled across his lips. Unconsciously her own tongue mirrored his and she could hear her heart beat rapidly in her ears. “Make no mistake, Miss Casey; I’ll do what I have to, to insure I get what I want.”

There it was again, h
is big, fat, cocky mouth had snapped her out of her trance. “You’re a brute,” she hissed, and yanked her wrist free from his iron grasp.

“And you’re not nearly as sneaky as you think you are
, Bella.”

Her mouth gaped
open in surprise.

“You didn’t fool me with your smiles and flirting. You might have poor Kit wrapped around
your finger, but not me.”

Annabelle beat her little fists against
his rock hard chest for a moment before he caught them up in his own capable hands, freezing her tantrum mid air. “I hate you, Logan Bailey, absolutely and completely hate you,” she yelled.

He threw her hands down and clutched her pale chin in his hand. “Then the feeling is mutual
, darlin’.” His eyes traveled from her eyes to her lips, not once, but twice before she jerked away from him and marched purposefully back to her waiting horse.

Logan
led her horse the rest of the way. She didn’t even try to talk to Kit, but he remained by her side giving her smiles of encouragement whenever she looked in his direction. She hated how Logan made her feel crazy.  From the moment he scooped her up off the Wyoming dessert he had made her blood boil for one reason or another. Oh, how she hated him and his mouth. How he looked at her and how he said her name. She just wanted to wring his neck. She would wait though, until she could catch him alone, then she would really tell him what she thought of him and his silly plan. So Annabelle waited patiently. Finally they reached the top of a ridge, but when she looked down and saw the tops of homes she was more than a little excited.  Without thinking she reached over and grabbed Kit by the arm.

“Look, we
’re there!” she exclaimed.

Logan turned in his saddle and looked at her but she ignored him.
He was taken aback by her excitement.  Her hand was small and snow white against Kit’s tanned skin and suddenly it was the vibrancy of her voice which shook him. It was the way she looked at Kit with excitement in her eyes. Pushing his strange frustration away he reminded himself that his little town of Hope could not be as exciting as where she had come from, or where she was going. She let go of Kit’s arm and lifted up as best as she could from the back of her horse to see a little bit better. Her face shone and her eyes wandered every nook and cranny of the tiny community; he couldn’t help but smile at her exuberance.

The sight of any life at all was heaven to her.  The little town sat in the
bottom of a bowl. The hills rose above the valley floor and offered the area some protection from the constant wind. There wasn’t much to see, one or two small cabins and a large barn in what seemed to be the center of the town.  There were several sod houses built near the hill they had just breached, most likely the homes had been dug out of the earth and extended back under the ridge.  There were a large amount of sheep up one side of the little valley and with them were mingled horses and a few milk cows.  Near the barn, Annabelle could see the chickens as they walked around, their heads bobbing to the earth eating ants. Towards the back of the basin, was a single Teepee, she assumed it belonged to the Indian Warrior who had been riding with them. Various other animals could be seen from dogs and cats to goats. 

What held her attention the longest was the way things had been
laid out.  Everything radiated from the barn and went in straight lines perfectly vertical and horizontal to its center point.  While the streets were not lined with stick frame homes, the area was designed to hold them.  And while there appeared to be no dry goods store, school, or other buildings, the town could easily accommodate them had the money been there to provide them. In her mind she had pictured a sod hut, or cabin at best; never in her dreams had she thought about this.  Joyfully she looked over at Logan who was admiring the view as well.  He turned and smiled at her and she could tell he was glad to be home.

At
their arrival women and children poured from the homes and ran to greet them.  She was surprised to see children so young mostly because the men that had been with them hardly looked old enough to be married.  One by one, as the men peeled off and met up with their loved ones she could see they weren’t the fathers but more likely the brothers of the family.  There were a few young mothers who happily kissed their equally young husbands, but that was the exception not the norm.  She couldn’t help but wonder if there would be a young mother waiting for Logan. The thought was momentarily unpleasant, and she absentmindedly touched the spot on her neck where his lips had been. It wouldn’t be too hard to picture him married with his good looks and quick personality, yet she didn’t like the idea much.

Finally even the Indian friend had ridden off and was met by a beautiful raven
-haired woman who was heavy with child.  He dismounted and touched her lightly on the nose.  She stroked one of his strong arms then led him away into the mouth of their home.  It was a touching reunion and the sacred intimacy of it struck Annabelle to the soul.  They were obviously greatly in love.  It made her think of her parents and how much they adored each other.  That thought led to the fact she had no idea how her life with Robert Sevier would be. Her heart felt heavy in her chest, like maybe she was desecrating the sacred nature of love with her wild decision.  She had to remind herself it was love which had caused her to make the decision, and love of her family seemed good enough reason. Yet she longed for the love of a good man, too, and she hoped Mr. Sevier could give her that.

Kit, Logan
, and Annabelle rode to the cabin nearest the barn.  It was larger than the others and finely built.  A tall woman was waiting at the door and to Annabelle’s relief she seemed much too old for both young men.  She was wiping her hands on a flour sack towel and looking questionably at the group. The woman was beautiful, her face soft and kindly, her hair blond and streaked with gray.  Annabelle only wondered for a moment who she was, but it was soon clear she was Kit’s mother.  Other than the difference in hair color they looked very much the same.  The expression in the woman’s face went from friendly to concern when they came to a halt in front of the house.  She stood with her arms folded across her chest on the porch and looked sternly at the men.

“What have you done?” Her voice had a motherly tone and Kit avoided her eyes.
Logan, however, dismounted and turned to face the woman he had grown to love as a mother.

“Mama, I want to introduce you to Annabelle Casey.”

She glared at him, her eyes set hard as stone.

“Logan Bailey, do
n’t you have a brain in that hard head of yours?” She was clearly angry, but there was a soft underlying tone. “Get her down off a-there at once.”

Kit
swung down and lifted Annabelle down to solid ground.  Her legs were a bit sore, and her behind stung with the remnant of Logan’s paddling and the slapping of her seat on the horse’s back. Yet it felt good to be standing still.  Next Mama turned her chastisement to her son.

“And you
, mister,” she pointed one finger at him, “you should know better than to follow Logan off on all his wild adventures; what other boys went with you?” Then her face got solemn. “No one was hurt were they?” She didn’t wait for an answer but kept up her rant. “You boys know we need every able-bodied hand ‘round here, we can’t afford for any of you young yahoos to go hurting yourselves.”

The boys looked
woefully at her and then nodded their heads.  Logan didn’t seem fazed by the lecture for too long. He had accomplished what he had wanted and in a day or so he could focus on the town and nothing else.  Mrs. Kittlinger opened her arms and gathered Annabelle into a warm embrace, and then she gently led her into the house. Instantly, her motherly expression softened her face and she saw the tired look of the young woman.  She helped her into a chair at the kitchen table, patting the girl’s soft red cheek with her calloused hand.

“
Come on in, sweet baby, did those two feather heads treat you poorly?” She glared over her shoulder. “If they did I will throw them a beatin’ like they have never had before.”

Annabelle smiled and shook
her head, allowing herself to be coddled by this sweet woman. “Nothing a few classes in etiquette wouldn’t fix.” Her eyes slid to Logan’s face, she suddenly felt very smug with a new friend in her corner. He narrowed his eyes then turned to take the horses to the barn for some much needed nourishment and rest.  He would deal with Annabelle and Mama later.

It was cooler in the cabin then it was out in the sun. Annabelle had to take a moment to let her eyes adjust to the dark interior of the cabin.  Mama had made her way into the kitchen where she poured some water into a tin cup from a white
pitcher, then cut a thick slice of warm bread, slathering it with butter.  Annabelle sat at the table and drew the home in. There was a living area and a dining room and kitchen area.  There was a ladder against the wall to her right that led to the loft. A second room jutted off the living area and it was a small bedroom.  The home was so clean and neat and smelled like fresh bread and stew.  It reminded her so much of home that tears welled up in her eyes and she let them fall onto the red-checkered table cloth.