Wild West Wife. Susan Mallery
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are.”
Quiet venom gave her voice strength. Jesse felt the first grudging flicker of respect. He drew his horse to a halt and stepped down from the saddle. “You and Stoner didn’t correspond much before he brought you out here to marry you.”
It wasn’t a question, but she answered it all the same. “No, we didn’t. He sent me a letter stating what he was looking for in a wife, and I responded. Then he sent me a ticket.”
“Wouldn’t it have made sense to get to know the man a little before agreeing to marry him?” he asked as he approached her.
“I know all I need to.”
He untied her feet and stepped back in case she tried to kick him. But she didn’t. Maybe she was a woman who kept her word.
“Lucas Stoner is a kind, honorable man,” she went on. As he walked around the front of her horse and reached for her bound hands, she raised her head and glared at him. “Decent. He would never do anything like this.”
“You’re right,” Jesse agreed, thinking that Stoner wouldn’t have bothered with kidnapping an innocent woman. He would have shot her dead on the spot, if he thought it would make his point.
He pulled the rope free of her wrists. She started to wiggle. “Don’t,” he told her. “You’ll fall.”
He grabbed her around her waist and lifted her off the saddle, then found himself in the uncomfortable position of having to turn her in his arms so she could stand. In the process, his hand slid against her right breast.
She went rigid at the contact and jumped back as soon as she gained her balance. Both arms came up to cross protectively over her chest. Jesse felt himself falter, not sure if he should apologize or pretend the moment never happened. Despite the tingling in his hand and the impression of soft, yielding curves burned into his brain, he decided on the latter.
“Can you ride astride?” he asked.
She watched him warily for a heartbeat or two, then shook her head. “I’ve never been on a horse before. But it doesn’t look difficult.” The implication being if he could do it, anyone else could be equally successful.
For the first time in months, Jesse felt like smiling. “You’re right. It doesn’t look difficult.” He laced his fingers together to form a step and bent down. “Grab hold of the saddle,” he instructed. “Put your left foot in my hands and I’ll raise you up high enough. You just swing your other leg over the horse’s back and sit down. Couldn’t be easier.”
Haley’s expression hardened. “Why don’t I trust you?”
He shrugged. “Because you’re smart. Don’t trust me, but do as I say. We need to get going and if you don’t cooperate, I’ll throw you back over the saddle and tie you up again. It’s your choice.”
The twist of her mouth told him that she didn’t care for her limited options, but she did as he requested. She braced her left foot against his hand and reached for the saddle.
“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.
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