Liz Ireland by A Cowboy's Heart Page A

frozen in his panic, almost as if he hoped that if he didn’t move or make a sound his captors would forget that he was there. Though her face betrayed her nervousness, Paulie stared straight at her captors, studying their faces and trying to understand what they were saying. Only occasionally had she met Will’s eye, but those few moments caused him more anguish than he had felt in a lifetime.
    He was frightened for her, and cursed the moment he had given in to her demands to come along with him. Now he not only had to worry about Mary Ann’s fate, he had to worry about Paulie, too. So far, none of the men had guessed that “el niño” was actually a girl, but there was no telling how long that would last, especially since several times he had caught Night Bird looking as curiously at Paulie as she looked at him. Of course, his pride probably still smarted from allowing himself to be kicked in his private parts by a captive. At the memory of the howl that the renegade had let out, Will was hard-pressed to hide a smile.
    It was a dumb, foolhardy, incredibly brave thing to do. The bandit had been so furious, it was a wonder that Paulie was still alive. Once he’d recovered, Night Bird had pushed Paulie into camp and had her trussed up especially tight. And Will still worried that he would seek extra retribution from Paulie for her insulting act of defiance.
    It was hard to believe that it was just this afternoon that they had been at Judge Bean’s, laughing and drinking. Or that just the night before that he had taken Paulie into his arms and kissed her—a kiss he couldn’t seem to forget, no matter how hard he tried, no matter what worries should have displaced his peculiar preoccupation with her soft lips. He had been thinking about her when he discovered the three Mexicans in camp, too. Actually he’d been broodingover what a strange position he found himself in, being jealous of Trip Peabody.
    Will had had plenty of reasons not to want Paulie to come along with him on this ride. But never in his life would he have thought that it would be because she might cause tension because she was of the fairer sex. He still couldn’t believe it. And yet, he knew in his gut that at that moment he would do anything to get her out of there, and if they ever did get free, to convince her to go home.
    That would be no easy task. Paulie was ornery, but sometimes that stubborn streak could be used against her. For instance, if he could make her so mad that she wouldn’t want to be around him anymore…
    As Will brooded over precisely how he was going to dispense with Paulie—if he ever had the luxury of that opportunity—Night Bird broke away from his men and walked toward her. Paulie’s eyes rounded as the renegade came closer. Will’s heart, which was already pounding a mile a minute, leapt to his throat.
    Deciding the best course of action might be to divert the Indian’s attention, Will straightened. “Where is Mrs. Murphy?” he demanded.
    Night Bird stopped, and tilted his head. The others, too, surprised by Will’s dictatorial tone, stopped counting their ill-gotten American greenbacks and turned to view the confrontation. Even Oat turned his head. Blessedly, Night Bird veered away from Paulie and came closer to Will. But not too close. Everything in his stiff stance said that he was a man who preferred to stand apart.
    “I do not know your Mrs. Murphy,” Night Bird answered, his voice raspy and low.
    Will, surprised that the man was actually talking to him at all, smirked. “Surely you don’t kidnap so many women that you’ve forgotten her already.”
    The renegade’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I do not know her.”
    “You wouldn’t forget her. She was the only thing blond and beautiful in Possum Trot. Does that ring a bell?”
    Night Bird rattled off something in Spanish to one of the Mexicans standing nearby.
    The man nodded, looking around the circle curiously. “Ah, la bonita,” he said.
    The