Annie's Song by Catherine Anderson

them. Like a lamb herded into a chute, Annie had been trapped, neatly and with a minimum of fuss, just as her mother promised.
    Trimble rested a folded arm on the edge of the open carriage window, his face creased in a smile. “You see, Alex? Nothing to it.”
    Glancing at Annie, who was frantically rattling the door handle, Alex was sorely tempted to plant a fist in her father’s mouth. He might have done just that if he hadn’t heard the door latch click. Reaching past Annie, he re-locked the mechanism to keep her from making good an escape.
    As Alex sat back in his seat, James added, “And if all else fails, there’s always this.” He thrust a thrice-folded length of leather through the window and into Alex’s hand. “Just the sight of it is usually enough to keep her in line. On the rare occasion that she gets stubborn, don’t hesitate to use it.”
    Dumbfounded, Alex had already closed his hand around the leather before he realized what it was. A razor strop. Annie recognized what he held at almost the same moment he did. She ceased her attempts to unlock the door and shrank back against the seat. The look on her face was one that he doubted he would ever forget. Not just fear. As unpleasant as that was, he expected it. No, what broke his heart was the shattered trust he saw reflected in her eyes. Like any child, she’d believed in her parents, and they’d both just betrayed her.
    Suddenly the carriage lurched. The motion was all it took to send Annie into a full-blown panic. She dived for the door again, her slender fingers clawing frantically at the lock. Before she could get a good grasp on the latch, Alex was upon her.
    As he closed his arms around her body, it struck Alex just how slightly built she actually was. In the everyday course of his work, he frequently grappled with stubborn horses six times his weight, and it took all his strength to control them. With this girl, he had to make a conscious effort to hold back. Afraid of hurting her, he didn’t want to exert undue pressure with his grip or embrace her too forcefully.
    Annie had no such compunction. With the flexibility of a contortionist, she somehow managed to slip from his hold, not once but repeatedly, twisting and bending her body in places that Alex had heretofore believed to be humanly impossible. As a boy, he’d once tried to catch a greased pig at the county fair.
    Trying to hold on to this girl was every bit as frustrating. Not to mention humiliating. She was half his size, for Christ’s sake.
    In the end, Alex realized he had no choice but to play catch-as-catch-can, taking advantage of any opportunity that presented itself. The carriage was moving at too fast a clip to take any chances. If she Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    managed to get a door open and tried to jump, she could do herself a serious injury.
    Barely saving his face from being lacerated by her fingernails, Alex caught both her wrists in the grip of one hand, wrapped an arm around her midriff, and, with no slight difficulty, turned her so that she sat between his spread thighs with her back, pressed to his chest. By angling one leg across both of hers, he brought a quick halt to her digging the heels of her shoes into his shins. Not in time to entirely save his shinbones, but at this point, he was thankful for small blessings. The girl had at least twelve elbows, he felt sure, and half again as many knees.
    During the struggle, the only sound Annie had made was a shallow panting. Alex scarcely noticed her silence until after he had subdued her, and even then he didn’t ponder on it overmuch. He was too busy slumping in the seat and striving to catch his breath.
    Kerwhack! The sound splintered inside his brain. Pain, its center point the cleft of his chin, radiated along his jaws and exploded in his temples. Spots danced before his eyes. Momentarily stunned by the blow, he blinked, trying desperately to clear his