Captive Bride Read Online Free PDF Page B

soft leather caressed her feet. They too fit perfectly and could have come right out of her closet. She wriggled her toes. Again, she found herself wondering where, or who, they’d come from.
    “Hurry up and eat.”
    “What? Where are we going?”
    “You’ll find out soon enough,” he said as he handed the tin plate to her. “Just do like I say.”
    “Okay, okay, but why?” Then it hit her, and a smug smile touched her lips. She pointed her finger at him. “I know why.”
    “Okay, you tell me why.”
    “My father’s found us. Have you seen sign of him? You have, haven’t you?” She threw her plate down, then jumped to her feet and laughed. “They’re out there, aren’t they? I told you so, didn’t I?”
    She ran to the mouth of the cave and searched the vast landscape. Emptiness stared back at her, and the victory smile died on her lips. Her heart rose in her throat. Tears misted in her eyes, and for the first time since her capture, she gave vent to them. She sank to her knees and sobbed.
    Once the tears were spent, Abby leaned back against the stone wall and gathered her composure. How she hated this helpless feeling. She returned ten minutes later and sat opposite him. Her mind was made up. He was her enemy, and she must treat him as such. She would forget the kiss and how it had made her feel, would forget her body’s fevered response to his touch, and would think of nothing but him rotting in jail. “Why do you hate my father? What has he ever done to you?”
    His body seemed to turn to stone, his eyes dark and unreadable. Not a muscle flinched, not a jerk of his hand, nothing. “Why do you say that?”
    “I don’t know you. I’ve never done anything to you.” She locked gazes with him. “So you must have a grudge against my father. That’s the only explanation I can think of. So what is it?”
    “Maybe it’s just the money. Did you think about that? Your pa will pay a lot to get you back.” He lifted the pan from the fire and set it aside.
    “Is the money worth your life?”
    Silence was his answer. He handed her a plate. She took it and gulped the food down. She grabbed the coffeepot, poured herself another cup of the hot, fortifying liquid and took a few sips.
    When he finished his cup, he stood and emptied the pot over the fire, then kicked dirt over the smoldering ashes. “Go wash the dishes and fill the canteens.”
    “What? Who do you think you are? No.” She folded her arms over her chest. “I won’t do it.”
    He grabbed her and jerked her up against him. “You’ll do as I say or else.”
    His threat turned her knees to jelly, but she refused to let him see her fear. “Or else what? If you kidnapped me for money, you have to take me home—alive.”
    “Alive can mean many things,” he said in a quiet voice. A deadly quiet voice.
    Abby swallowed the lump that rose in her throat. “All right, I’m going to do it, but you just wait, you’ll pay for this. I swear it.” Despite her resolve to be stoic and unfeeling, she cursed him all the way to the small pool of clear water under a protruding ledge. The water was cold, and Abby splashed some on her face.
    A feeling that she was being watched made her glance nervously around, but Davy was nowhere around. She lifted her gaze and saw the paintings on the wall. A shiver ran down her spine. The Indians who’d long ago inhabited this cave had left their mark. Unseeing eyes stared down at her. Mounted warriors with bows and arrows chased buffalo across a stone prairie.
    She forced herself to be calm and quickly washed the few dishes, then walked over to the supply area and retrieved the canteens. She glared in his direction, then returned to the pool, knelt and filled them. She glanced over her shoulder while Davy saddled the horses, then loaded supplies onto the pack mule. Where were they going? This cave seemed the ideal hiding spot. Leaving here would also lessen the chances of her father finding her.
    “Abby, come on.