Kate Bridges - Luke's Runaway Bride

Dawn. Despite the cool, blue morning mist, sunlight twinkled through the wall boards of the boxcar, and Jenny’s eyes blinked open. She shivered in the crisp air, remembering where she was.

It wasn’t a dream. Her heart squeezed in anguish. She was here, a captured woman with a man she didn’t know. Would today be the day she escaped?

Where was Olivia and how was she this morning? Jenny closed her eyes for a moment, then determination surged through her. She wouldn’t let him win. She’d keep alert to her surroundings and lunge at the first opportunity to flee. Blazes, maybe it’d help if she were friendly.

Still wearing his sheepskin jacket buttoned to the top, she pushed herself from the straw. Was the train slowing down? It was rocking differently. While she stretched her arms to shake off her sleep, Luke sprang to his feet in the opposite corner. She started. With his cowboy boots pounding on the floor planks, his spurs jangling, he banged his fists on the wall to signal his man on the other side. A thud echoed in response.

Luke returned to his magnificent blood bay. Sunlight glistened off its red flanks. “Morning,” Luke said as he saddled his mount. Was he talking to her or the stallion? She didn’t answer.

Trying to ignore his masculine presence, she ran her fingers through her twisted hair, yanking on the knots. She got it into some degree of order, then flattened it on the top. Removing several of the hairpins, she did a makeshift job of tying it into a beaver tail. It would have to do.

From beneath her lashes, she couldn’t resist stealing another glance at Luke. Still in his black denim pants, he’d changed his shirt and donned a knee-length leather coat. He looked almost respectable.

Watching him work, she noticed how skillful he was with animals. His movements emphasized his forceful shoulders, slim hips and muscular thighs. Any woman would think he and his mount were striking, standing side by side. She shouldn’t feel guilty for thinking it herself, about the power and muscle in both man and beast.

The man was a beast, she decided. He should be shackled and chained. He would be once they caught him, she realized with satisfaction.

While he adjusted his saddlebags, she watched his long fingers at work. If what he told her last night about his father were true… What kind of family did he come from? No wonder he was all scarred up. It must come from breaking the law, just like his father.

Heat rushed to her cheeks. Lord, when she thought about last night in Daniel’s office, when Luke had looked like he was about to kiss her—

She pushed away her disturbing thoughts. She pitied him—that’s what she felt. Only pity. “Are we getting off here?”

“Yeah.” Dark stubble shadowed his jaw. He needed a shave. If he’d lend her a straight blade, she’d give him a shave he’d never forget.

“Is this the Cheyenne station?”

“No, it’s the stop before.”

She sat taller, her voice sharp. “I thought you said we’re going to Cheyenne.”

“We are. But the last thing I need is two women hollering murder in the middle of the station.” He worked quickly to buckle straps. “We’ll go the rest of the distance by horse.”

Ride a horse? By herself? She didn’t know how. She’d never tried. Her throat constricted. “Am I supposed to ride the other horse?”

Luke glanced at the sorrel. “That one’s not mine. I’m not a horse thief.”

She jumped to her feet and brushed straw off her dress. “How honorable,” she said with a shake of her head. “You steal women but not horses.”

His lips quirked with humor as he finished with the lines.

“Do you find everything I say amusing?” she asked.

“Just about.”

“Well, then, I’m not talking to you anymore.”

“Suit yourself.” A hint of a smile touched the corner of his mouth. He looked charming, and she squirmed with irritation at the thought.

Unmoved by her cold stare, he slid open the bulky door. His firm, square hand was strong and callused, like the rest of him, and no doubt he was accustomed to working hard. How could such a hardworking man be so down on his luck? Why didn’t he try harder?

He’d said he was taking her to meet someone. Who? A relative? A…former girl of Daniel’s? Was Luke trying to make trouble between her and Daniel?

Jenny knew Daniel was a popular man. Women had been vying for his attention at the Independence Day celebrations from the minute Jenny’d met him. He was a terrific dancer, dancing the smoothest waltz with her. Hadn’t she told him so? Hadn’t he smiled that gracious smile and insisted on having every dance with her, despite the other women?

No matter who Luke was taking her to see, she wouldn’t let it upset her. Luke was the criminal, not Daniel.

She stepped to the open door beside Luke’s tall, lean form and gazed out. Morning sunshine slanted into the boxcar, drenching her. The heat felt good. Clouds that looked like cotton candy swirled in a blue sky. Miles of golden grass, as high as her waist, rippled to the horizon. She peered ahead of the train. Tall aspens, their leaves quaking in the wind, lined a trickling creek. As the train chugged along, a herd of pronghorn antelope drinking at the water’s edge scampered into the pines.

She took a deep, heady breath of pure mountain air. It was so beautiful. More beautiful than she ever could have imagined, back in Boston. The breathless grace of the Wyoming Territory filled her with a sense of awe.

Then the train screeched around a bend and she stumbled, bracing herself quickly. The sheepskin lining of Luke’s jacket cushioned her arms.

Grabbing the edge of the door, Luke hung out the boxcar beside her and hollered something to his man. The wind was whistling and she couldn’t hear what they said. When Luke came back, he swung up on his horse. He had to duck his head so it wouldn’t hit the ceiling.

He motioned for her to mount behind him. Good Lord, he didn’t really expect her to jump that high, did he?

The sound of the horse snorting and the sight of it pawing the floor made her heart pound with fear. She stepped back. Luke, wild and unshaven, looking every bit as much a beast as his sleek horse, stretched out his hand to her. She cleared her throat, about to declare that she didn’t ride, when he suddenly clicked his tongue in frustration, swooped down with a muscled arm and scooped her up.

In a swirl of petticoats, she landed behind him in the hard saddle. It was one hell of a tight fit. What was she supposed to hang on to? In a panic, suddenly dizzy, she gripped his coat pocket.

Before she had time to adjust herself, the horse leaped off the boxcar. They plunged into the blazing sunrise. The wind snatched her hair. Her stomach rose and fell. “Ahhh…!”

The horse hit the ground and galloped hard. They’d made it! A thrill danced up her spine. But there was no way she was putting her arms around Luke. Instead, she tried to hold the edge of his coat, then the saddle. Anything but him. She swayed and dipped, clawing to maintain her balance.

“Sit still,” he hollered.

Still? How could she keep still when she’d never sat this close to a man, in such an intimate position? The back of his thighs felt hard and sleek along the front of hers, and she couldn’t escape the salty scent of his skin. A current of excitement raced through her with every bump, every jostle of his muscles against hers. She shivered and tried to push away.

She couldn’t budge. And she had to keep her legs and buttocks clenched to keep from slipping off.

They rode into a muddy clearing, crossed a line of cedars and splashed through a riverbed. As they headed down toward a grass-covered valley, Luke slowed the horse to a trot. Jenny wiped her sweaty palms on her velvet skirts and tried to loosen the stiffness in her arms. Her chest started to feel hot inside the sheepskin coat.