Luke's Runaway Bride. Kate Bridges
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deserved it. He’d scouted and surveyed land for fifteen years, using his wits and know-how to predict where the next tracks would be laid. Over yonder in that flood-prone valley, or dynamiting through the hills? As soon as Daniel was married to Jenny, Nyland promised him a permanent deal. A ten-year contract as the official scout for the railroad. Damned if Luke McLintock was going to blow this deal.
Did he think he could compete with Daniel? Did he think they were in the same league? Why, McLintock would always be nothing but a workin’ class boy. Scrapin’ the manure off other people’s boots. Servin’ them penny beer, for cripes sake, when Daniel was making deals of twenty thousand dollars a crack.
And beautiful Jenny being terrorized by the bastard…why, she was nothing more than a little kitten who needed protecting. Like all women did. Her and her silly notions of opening a store. Daniel planned on keeping her so busy with a brood of her own, she wouldn’t have time to do much else. Thankfully, she could hold her own in business conversations with the mayor and the governor and anyone else Daniel entertained, and he was sure proud to show her off on his arm. Her lush body and quick mind were a delightful bonus, although being Nyland’s daughter would have been enough.
“Morning, Daniel,” cooed a feminine voice behind him.
He spun on his chair and peered up at Sally Bloomfield, one of his clerks. “Mornin’.”
She rubbed her ruby lips together and played with a strand of her brown curls. Well now, didn’t she look tempting? Her curves strained the fabric of her lace blouse, teasing him with a hint of rosy tips. Why was she wearing that blouse? She knew how much he liked it. He had an urge to lay her over the desk and take her, like he had on many occasions. But he was engaged now, and had every intention of living up to his new standards. Four weeks, and he hadn’t strayed. He deserved a medal.
His stare was bold. “I told you before, address me as Mr. Kincaid.”
Sally’s smile faded into a pucker.
He glanced through the office window. “Go get your papers in order. I’ve got a client to tend to.” Stiffly, he edged his tall, muscular frame around her and kept walking.
His business with the miner didn’t take long. The young man was leaving when the doorbell jingled. Daniel glanced up to see who it was.
Queasiness rolled down his spine. “Did you make it in all the way from the Springs this morning, Mrs. Walters?”
The gray-haired woman straightened her bonnet. “Yep, took me nearly two hours.”
“So the train derailment’s been fixed?”
“Yep.”
Oh, hellfire. That meant Nyland would be back in town, looking for his daughter. That changed everything. Daniel excused himself. “Harley, step into my office.”
They crossed through the sunshine beating through the bars of the front windows. Daniel shoved his finger beneath his sweaty collar. His cravat was tighter than a noose. He closed the office door. “I want you to take a trip.”
“Where to?” The ex-boxer curled his hand over the walnut grip of his gun.
“We’re going to Cheyenne. Get two tickets for this evening’s train.” Daniel sputtered with indignation as he explained the situation, sticking to his story about the robbery, and adding a kidnapping-for-ransom charge. “It’s a messy situation. Let’s keep it quiet, so Nyland Eriksen doesn’t find out.”
Something in Harley seemed to come alive. His tired eyes blazed with eagerness. “Are we bringin’ McLintock back?”
“No, just the two women.”
“What should I do to him?”
“Stay behind a few days.” Daniel crossed his arms, leaned against his desk and crossed one booted foot in front of the other. “Get him alone,” he said calmly. “Then I want you to break some bones. Make him feel it.”
Once again in the saddle behind Luke, Jenny tried to pull away. He’d removed his coat, and only the thin cloth of his shirt separated them. Why did he have to be the type of man a woman couldn’t ignore?
He yanked her closer. “You’ll fall off again. Hold tight.”
“I don’t want to.” But she let her arms stay where he placed them, around his muscled waist. She was still shaken from her fall, and the ground below seemed awfully far down.
Her palms were slipping with sweat. A line of perspiration ran down his spine. His back muscles, under the soft cloth where she held him, grew damp, and she swallowed. Her breathing lost its rhythm every time she touched him. What was wrong with her? She wriggled away.
Why had she let him kiss her throat? Why hadn’t she pulled away sooner? It was fear that made her heart pound, she told herself. She didn’t fear Daniel, and that’s why her heart never pounded like this when he kissed her.
Daniel took pains to make her feel comfortable. He never took her anywhere without the proper chaperon, and she wouldn’t be caught dead with him, alone like this.
Another hour passed, but her misery didn’t lessen. The sun’s heat blazed through the jacket. She had a permanent squint from the glare. There was nothing but sagebrush ahead. Two speckled birds chirped from a tree they passed and a jackrabbit darted out from a shrub and slipped into a pocket of dirt.
When would she see Olivia again? Jenny scanned the rolling hills, squinting through the shimmering light, hoping to see someone. A ranch or farmhouse. Anything.
Nothing but dried grass and tumbleweeds. “How much farther?”
“We’re close. Over this hill.” The stallion climbed the gentle slope. Jenny poked her head around Luke’s shoulder to look. Pines and aspens grew along one side of the valley. There must be a stream below. The vegetation was thicker and greener there.
She sighed. “And this is where Olivia and your man Tom are waiting?”
“Hold on now, I didn’t promise they’d meet us here.”
She sprang up. “What? Another trick? But you said—”
“I said they’d meet us in Cheyenne. And they will, in due time.”
Her mouth opened in protest, then closed. Maybe he was lying about ever bringing them together. Maybe she’d have to escape on her own and come back to rescue Olivia.
They crested the hill. The green valley revealed a ranch house and stable, and he was heading straight for them. Who did the ranch belong to? Cattle grazed the fenced slopes, forty or fifty head. She spotted two horses tethered by the hitching post. Would she dare to take one?
Would the opportunity arise?
Their mount slowed as they approached the well-kept homestead. A deep green pond shimmered beside them, the reeds around it thick and as tall as people. The reeds rustled and a muddy boy jumped out, surprising her.
Luke pulled back on the reins to stop the horse. The boy dashed to his side, holding a twisted stick. “You’re home, you’re home!”
Jenny reared back. Who was this child?
With shaggy black hair, he was no more than four or five. He stood barefooted, his skin bronzed the color of gold. His rumpled shirttails were laced with grime and his fingernails blackened with dirt. His smile, though, was a genuine flash of white. And, aimed straight for Luke.
Did Luke have a son? The shocking thought hit her full force.
“Adam,” Luke roared from the saddle, “I can’t believe how dirty one little boy can get.”
A ball of emotion sprang to her throat. The man who’d kidnapped her was a father? He would go to jail for what he’d done. Who’d look after the boy while he was in jail? What kind of a father would put his own boy at risk?
A selfish one. Just like his criminal father.