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And she’d been silly enough to allow herself to care about him.
She pulled out her notebook. At least it would make a good story. But she stared at the page without putting down a word. How could she write about him now? He wasn’t a man bigger than life. He was a common criminal. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, letting disappointment and sorrow scratch at her insides. So much for her hard-learned lessons on guarding her heart.
But how could it be true? Was she so blind she’d missed every hint?
Her cheeks warmed as she thought of the moments they’d shared under the trees. The kiss in the barn. At least no one had seen them.
Did she hear a movement nearby? The rustle of leaves? She blew her breath out. Of course she did. The breeze made all the yellow and gold leaves move. She was just nervous, because of Eddie’s warning. Knowing Linette and Eddie would worry about her, she gathered her feet under her and stood. It was time to get back.
A man stepped from the trees.
Her heart clambered up her throat, which tightened so much she couldn’t even scream.
“Yer coming with me.”
She thought she shook her head, but perhaps she only wanted to. She managed to stumble back a step, never taking her gaze off the leering man.
His eyes reminded her of Brand, but his expression frightened her. This was Brand’s brother. Had Brand sent him?
He lurched forward.
“No.” The word wailed inside her head, but came out barely a whisper. She darted to the side.
The man laughed. “Wanna play? I like that.” He held out his hands and leaned one way and then the other, silently mocking her, urging her to run so he could chase her.
She lifted her skirts and took off toward the ranch. A thin sound meant to be a scream pushed past her teeth. “Help. Help.” Surely someone from the ranch would see her and come to her aid. She reached the crest of the hill. Through the veil of leaves she watched Slim saddle a horse. Another cowboy sauntered toward the cookhouse. The sun glistened off the windows of the big house, making it impossible for her to see if anyone stood beyond the glass, but Linette spent much of her time in that room, often glancing out the window. Despite the bushes that partially obscured her view, Sybil lifted her arms and waved frantically. It was possible Linette would see and send help.
“Sure do like this game, but ya gone far ’nough.”
Huge arms encircled her waist, sweeping her off her feet. She kicked her heels, knowing a taste of satisfaction when her captor grunted. She flailed her arms, scratched at the hands holding her. Despite his grunts, he did not loosen his grip. Instead, he carried her away from the ranch to a waiting horse.
She saw his intention and flung her head back, connecting with his chin.
His arms tightened cruelly, making it impossible to draw in a full breath, though her tight lungs had already made breathing difficult.
“Yer a regular little fighter, ain’t ya? I bet Brand enjoyed that.”
The mention of that name filled her with blinding fury and she fought with all her might, kicking, gouging, head butting, but Brand’s brother only laughed.
“I can see yer gonna give us some fine entertainment.”
She found her voice. “I’ll not be entertaining the likes of you.”
“Already are, sister.” His laugh shuddered along her spine. His sour breath made her cringe, but only for a heartbeat. Then she fought and screamed.
He threw her facedown over the back of his horse and swung up behind her. He slapped her bottom.
She saw red. Never in her life had a man touched her in such a familiar, rude way. She would get revenge somehow. Never mind that Father said a lady should never show such emotions. She’d find a way of making him pay for this if she had to track him to her dying day.
With deliberate intent, she kicked the horse, slapped him hard, screamed and squirmed. If she could fall off... She’d sooner be killed by the tumble, trampled to death, than endure the sort of treatment she knew this man and the rest of the gang meant to inflict on her.
The horse snorted and reared. Her head swung back hard, snapping her neck. But her captor held her by the back of her dress. She feared if she struggled any harder the fabric would tear, exposing her undergarments. The man would likely see that as invitation to do worse.
