Susan Mallery: Wild West Wife

“Jesse Kincaid took her off, bold as you please. Right in front of all of us.”

That got Daisy’s attention. “What did you say?”

Charlie’s head bobbed several times. “That’s right, ma’am. Jesse kidnapped Mr. Stoner’s bride. Said he would bring her back when Stoner agreed to talk with him.” He shrugged. “So that’s what I come to tell you.”

Daisy didn’t want to look, but she forced herself to turn slowly and raise her gaze to Stoner’s face. The cold, ugly hatred there made her shrink back against the door frame.

There were several moments of silence. All Daisy heard was the sound of the hat brim brushing against Charlie’s callused fingers and the faint ticking from the clock in the hall.

“Thank you for bringing me that information,” Stoner said at last. “I’ll take care of it.”

Charlie bobbed his head again. “Yes, sir, Mr. Stoner. I just wanted to be the one to tell you. When he took her off, she wasn’t hurt or anything.”

“Thank you,” Stoner repeated, drew Daisy inside the house and firmly shut the door.

Daisy tried to gather her composure. She had to figure out how to act. She hadn’t known about Jesse’s plans, so her surprise about that had been genuine enough. The fool boy was trying to get himself killed, she thought grimly, then pushed the thought away. There was no time to deal with Jesse’s folly right now. First she had to handle Stoner. She was supposed to be his loving mistress, and as such, news about a mail-order bride should bother her. Stoner had no way of knowing she’d overheard him talking to the wire operator when he had sent the money for the woman’s ticket.

“Lucas?” she asked, as he led the way back into the dining room. “I don’t understand.”

He motioned for her to take her seat. She hesitated, then did as he requested. She rested her hands flat on the table and opened her eyes wide. For a couple of heartbeats, she allowed herself to remember the pain of watching Michael Kincaid hanged for a crime he didn’t commit. As always, the memory of the senseless death brought tears to her eyes. She blinked as if trying to hide them.

“A b-bride,” she said, deliberately stumbling over the word.

“I know, Daisy dear. This is a shock.”

“More than a shock. I thought—” She shook her head and turned away. “Lucas...”

He took the chair next to her and grasped both her hands in his. “I don’t have a choice. Look at me.”

She drew in a deep breath for courage and did. His faked concern made her supper rise in her throat.

“You know about my ambitions,” he said.

She nodded. “You’re going to be governor.”

“And more.” He smiled as if she were a bright student and had provided the correct answer. “That requires the right kind of connections and the right wife.”

Daisy hung her head. “I have no connections, nor am I a young, blushing bride.”

“You are a beautiful woman and I have no intention of ending our relationship.”

She sucked in a breath, then turned her mouth up into a smile. Pray God he didn’t notice the lie. “Really? But I don’t understand.”

“She will be a convenience, nothing more. I specifically wanted an orphan. She has no family to appear and refute whatever I may say about her past. But she will be little more than a decoration to appease the world. You will still warm my bed at night.” He leaned close and kissed her. “Often.”

Her pity for the faceless young woman vanished. She, Daisy, was still going to have to allow Stoner to have his way with her. At least for now. Which was fine with her. She still wanted Stoner dead.

“But she’s been kidnapped. What are you going to do?”

His expression hardened again. “I will take care of Jesse Kincaid myself.”

Just like you took care of his father, Daisy thought angrily.

“He can’t be allowed to go around kidnapping innocent women,” Stoner continued. “I will think of something suitable.”

Daisy realized she had to warn Jesse. On the heels of that concern came the knowledge that he’d known by kidnapping Stoner’s bride-to-be he would be tangling directly with his enemy. Perhaps that was what he wanted—a way to flush Stoner into the open. He had a plan. Of that she was sure. The best thing she could do to help was to stay close to their mutual enemy and learn all she could. Eventually Lucas Stoner would make a mistake. They only needed one. Then she would be standing right in front to watch the man hang.

They made camp in a small clearing beside a rushing stream. Haley leaned against a thick tree, trying not to think about where she was or why she was there. The pretending to be strong and brave only worked for a short period of time. Sometimes, the fear won anyway.

A shiver rippled through her. Her dress was soaked from where she’d fallen in the snow, but she didn’t have anything else to change into. The small carpetbag Jesse had brought with them contained a nightgown, stockings, her brush and comb, some hairpins and two spare petticoats. Her other dresses were in her trunk, still tied to the stage.

The snap of a twig caught her attention and she turned toward the sound. Jesse moved back into the clearing. His arms were full of tree branches, which he placed on the ground. Next he gathered small twigs and some leaves. He pulled a tin of matches from one of his saddlebags, then lit one and touched the flame to the kindling. The fire caught instantly.

“If you stand close to the heat, your clothes will dry,” he said without turning around.

Haley glared at his back. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of responding to his suggestion. But another shiver rippled through her and she knew she was risking a serious chill if she didn’t get warm soon. So she approached the growing fire and turned so her damp skirts were closest to the flames. She was careful to keep her gaze from meeting Jesse’s. As it got darker and the sounds of the night surrounded them, it was more and more difficult to forget she was alone with this man. What was he going to do to her?

Don’t think about that, she ordered herself. Think about Lucas. So she tried to picture his face, his eyes, his warm smile. She got lost in a daydream of how he would tell her he’d been so worried about her. She would tell him about her adventure and he would gently take her hand and offer comfort. They would—

Something settled on her shoulders. She let out a scream and tried to jump. Strong hands held her in place.

“Just until you stop shaking like a wet calf,” Jesse said, smoothing a coat over her. “I have a spare. I figured a city girl wouldn’t know how to dress for Montana nights.”

She wanted to throw his gift back in his face, but she could feel the weight of the fabric and the warmth lingering from his body and all she wanted to do was snuggle into the soft sheepskin lining. Despite her annoyance at the implied insult, she knew he was right. She didn’t have a warm coat.

“I—” She clamped her lips shut. She was not going to thank him. He didn’t deserve it.

He also didn’t seem to expect it. He moved away and began setting up the camp. He filled a coffeepot with water and put it on a flat rock he rolled into the fire. Next came cans of beans and some hard, flat chunks of bread. He heated the beans in their can, then used a bent fork to push them onto two plates.

Somewhere in the process, he removed his hat. Haley didn’t notice the exact moment he did so, but suddenly he wasn’t wearing it. As he crouched by the fire, the light illuminated his features. Stubble darkened his jaw, making him look forbidding. Dark eyes and a straight mouth gave nothing away. She didn’t know what he was thinking and she decided she didn’t want to know. When he stood up, she realized he was much taller than she. The top of her head barely came to his chin. He’d already proved he could physically overpower her without a moment’s pause.