The Mercenary's Kiss. Pam Crooks

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СКАЧАТЬ cheeks were wet. She stepped away, allowing Jeb and Creed to lift the cot into the wagon, taking care as best they could not to jar the injured leg unduly. By the time they came out again, she’d mounted her horse. Her gaze found Creed’s.

      “Thank you,” she said quietly. “For everything.”

      He shrugged off her gratitude and climbed onto the driver’s seat. “Be real careful. Both of you.”

      She nodded once, then tugged on the reins. By the time Jeb lifted a foot into the stirrup, she’d spurred her horse into a hard turn and galloped out of the woodlands.

      Heading south.

      Without him.

      He muttered an oath and tore off after her.

       Chapter Four

       T oo soon, darkness fell. The need to find Nicky consumed Elena, drove her with a relentless desperation that quelled fatigue or hunger and blinded her to the needs of her mount.

      Or the man who kept pace beside her.

      She kept her sights on the horizon. On Mexico. On getting to her baby as soon as she could.

      But as the hours fell away, the black night grew more disorienting. A halfhearted moon barely provided enough illumination to keep them on the trail, and clouds rolling in threatened to obliterate even that.

      It would be easy to lose their bearings. What if they found themselves heading north, away from Mexico? From Nicky?

      She refused to think of the possibility. She had to find him, no matter what.

      “Time to pull up, Elena. We’ve ridden long enough.”

      Elena started at the low voice of the man she knew only as Jeb. It was the first time he’d spoken to her since they had left her father in the woodlands.

      “No,” she said. “I want to keep moving.”

      But she slowed her horse to rest, just for a few moments. Again she studied the horizon. She could barely discern the narrow ribbon of water ahead, but the shimmer of the moonlight on the surface confirmed it was there. A westerly tributary of the Nueces River, she realized, and an opportunity to water the horses.

      In the silence of the night, a gun cocked. Her heart began a slow pound. Slowly, carefully, she turned.

      And faced the wrong end of Jeb’s Colt revolver.

      “It’s best that you understand right now, Elena,” he murmured. “I give the orders. And I expect you to follow ’em when I do.”

      She couldn’t see his unshaven face in the shadows beneath the broad brim of his hat. But she could feel him watch her with a cold cunning that left the blood faltering in her veins.

      He could kill her right now. And no one would know. Except Pop, and by then, it’d be too late.

      She refused to show her fear. Her vulnerability.

      “Even when a defenseless woman just happens to disagree with you?” she taunted softly.

      The calm in her voice amazed her. Steadied her. She held that dark gaze of his without flinching. In the shadows, his teeth gleamed. It chilled her, that smile.

      “You learn fast, Elena. That’s good. Real good.”

      “My son has been kidnapped by a vicious band of rebels. The longer it takes to find him, the harder it will be.” A sudden surge of emotion welled up inside her. “For both of us.”

      “Doesn’t matter. We have to rest. You want to kill your horse?”

      Panic flickered inside her. It was harder to control, to hide, than the fear.

      “It does matter, damn you!” she said, her breath quickening. “I can’t stop. Not yet.”

      “It’s after midnight. We’ll get an early start in the morning.” The Colt jerked toward the river. “Until then, we’ll camp by the water where the horses can drink their fill.”

      Elena hated the harsh truth of his logic and debated taking off in a hard run southward—away from him. After all, she didn’t need his services, despite what Pop said. She could find her way to the nearest border town without him. She could find help with the local lawmen, too. The sheriff. The chief of police. She’d wire the governor of Texas if she had to.

      But the revolver was proof Jeb intended to do things his way without a care to hers.

      “He’s my son,” she said through her teeth. “If he were yours—”

      “—I’d do the same thing.” The interruption was swift. Impatient. “You’ll do him no good when you’re too exhausted to think straight.”

      “I’m not exhausted!”

      “You will be when the adrenaline stops. Now let’s go.” The revolver waved toward the river again.

      He was wrong. She could ride for hours yet. All night, if she had to. And then again all day.

      Nicky would be missing her right now. Was he crying? Calling her name? He wouldn’t understand who the men who’d taken him were or why she wasn’t there with him. He’d never gone to sleep before without her cuddling and rocking him first.

      Elena bit her lip. The need to hold him in her arms again stole the very breath from her lungs. She ached from it.

      She sat straighter in the saddle. She had to keep looking for him, but for now she’d do what Jeb commanded her to do. She’d ride to the river so they could rest. Then, when he fell asleep, she’d slip away and resume her race to Mexico.

      The plan soothed her. Gave her focus. Allowed her to turn her mount toward the water without further protest. Elena watched Jeb dismount and tie his horse to the shrubbery growing wild along the bank.

      Despite her plan, she couldn’t bring herself to do the same. The minutes ticking away tortured her with the knowledge she should be chasing after her son instead of sitting here going nowhere.

      Jeb glanced at her. “Get off the horse, Elena.”

      She suspected he knew what she was thinking. But did he have an inkling of how much it hurt to have Nicky stolen from her?

      He couldn’t possibly. And what did he care anyway? He didn’t even know her or her baby.

      The self-pity rolled through her in waves. She blinked hard at the tears that surfaced with a vengeance, and swallowing convulsively, she swung out of the saddle.

      But once on the ground, her knees threatened to give way. With the horse and the night’s shadows to shield her from Jeb’s view, she gripped the saddle horn and sagged against the horse’s neck. She buried her face against the warm hide.

      She just needed a few moments to compose herself. She needed control. Strength. She needed—

      “Elena.”

      She СКАЧАТЬ