Chapter One
December 15, 1871 – Northern New Mexico
Zach Price hadn’t been this close to a woman in five years.
The time he’d spent in prison had robbed him of many things, and he’d often wondered if the ability to feel passion and desire had been among them.
Apparently not.
As the rocking motion of the stagecoach brought the woman’s knees into contact with his own once again, he wished he were as unfeeling as he’d thought. The stirring in his groin was an inconvenient, painful reminder that he’d never again know the softness of a woman’s body against his. The manacles on his hands and feet, and the presence of the lean, sharp-eyed lawman at his side, ensured it.
With every bumpy mile, the stagecoach took him closer to Texas, where he’d spend the rest of his life in the same federal prison he’d escaped from two short weeks ago.
If he’d known his freedom would be so fleeting, he’d have gotten stinking drunk and spent what time he had in the arms of some pretty whore. Instead, he’d kept to himself, living like a hunted animal, traveling at night, sleeping during the day, desperate to reach his brother in the Colorado Territory.
He’d never expected the United States Marshal on his tail to get there first.
His gaze returned to the woman sitting across from him. Understandably nervous about sharing the ride with a convicted killer, she had yet to look him in the eyes. Her lovely face was pale, and she looked exhausted. He wondered how long she’d been traveling, and why she’d boarded the coach alone, with no man to watch over her.
Her vulnerable beauty enchanted him and, for a long moment, he entertained the possibility of taking her hostage when they stopped for the night. He could wrap his chained hands around her slim neck, press against her, use her as a shield to make his escape…
Reluctantly, he discarded the notion. Despite the desperation clawing and twisting in the pit of his stomach, he hadn’t sunk to the point of involving an innocent bystander in the hopeless mess he’d made of his life.
He shifted and turned his gaze out the window, noticing it had begun to snow. The sight cheered him. He hoped the weather delayed their journey. Even a few extra nights in a stage stop with Marshal Scott breathing down his neck would be preferable to returning to prison.
“Where are you headed, ma’am?” the marshal asked their lovely traveling companion, speaking for the first time since they’d boarded the stage in Trinidad several hours ago.
“I’m going to Texas for Christmas,” she answered. Zach found himself leaning forward in an effort to hear her better. “I have family there.”
She was even lovelier when she smiled, and he didn’t think his opinion was influenced by the fact that he’d been so long without a woman. She had delicate, classic features and expressive, wide, green eyes. Her hair was a rich, buttery gold, and her figure was trim, yet rounded in all the right places. He imagined he could even smell her; a light, flowery scent that triggered a sudden, vivid memory of a girl he’d known in Virginia. Before the war.
“We’re going to Texas, too,” the marshal informed her. “I’ll keep an eye out for you, ma’am. It’s not safe for a pretty little thing like you to be traveling all by yourself.”
An embarrassed blush tinged the girl’s pale cheeks. “That’s kind of you, sir. But really, I’m sure I’ll be just fine. I’ve come all the way from Denver already.”
She glanced in Zach’s direction and, for just a moment, her clear, green gaze caught and held his. Unmistakable trepidation shadowed those emerald depths. She probably didn’t want anything to do with the marshal as long as he had a dangerous criminal like Zach in tow.
The marshal also obviously understood the reason for her reticence. “Don’t worry none about him, ma’am. I’ve got the situation well under control. He’s harmless as a Christmas goose trussed up in those shackles.”
The girl stared at the metal bracelets around Zach’s wrists and ankles. She met his gaze again, and this time he saw more sympathy than fear. “Are those dreadful things necessary?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the marshal answered. “As I said, he’s harmless enough as long as he’s chained. But make no mistake. He’s a bad ’un. Killed some men in Texas a few years back, then managed to escape from prison. Took me two weeks to track him down, and I don’t intend to lose him again.”
Zach forced his features to remain impassive, even though he burned with shame and anger at being discussed as though he were deaf and dumb. He didn’t know why he cared what this woman thought of him, but for some reason he wanted to shout a denial. He wanted to try to explain the circumstances that had led him so far from the life he’d once expected to live.
The coach shuddered then gave a precarious lurch. Zach tore his gaze away from the girl to glance back out the window then wished he hadn’t. The snow was falling much harder now than just a few moments ago, and the road dropped off into a deep ravine on his side of the coach.
They seemed to be heading right for the edge.
“Shit,” he muttered, trying to brace himself, but unable to do so because of the shackles.
“What the hell…?” The marshal half rose from his seat and opened the door, as though he meant to ask the driver what was going on. He never got the chance. The horses gave an ear-piercing squeal, and then the coach tipped, tumbling off the edge of the cliff, crashing end over end into the ravine.
* * * * *
Bethany Sinclair awakened to the unfamiliar feel of a man’s heavy body sprawled atop her. She gave a frantic shove but couldn’t dislodge the smothering weight. Gasping for breath as panic coursed through her, she glanced about, trying to figure out why everything looked so odd and unfamiliar.
Where was she? What on earth had happened?
