The Fortune by Beth Williamson

They could not afford to chase after one missing woman.
    She’d heard the stories of trailside burials, of people left behind because they were sick, of whole wagons shunned from a group because they had become sick. One missing and healthy young woman did not warrant deviating from the wagon train’s schedule.  
    A lump formed in her throat, one of self-pity and hopelessness. She struggled against it, hard, but tears filled her eyes, spilling over into the wind battering her face. Frankie had tried to fight against the dark feelings, had looked toward Oregon as a way to escape her fate. Yet that struggle had been for nothing. Not one damn thing.
    Oliver had sent his hound after her and now she would return to face the man she had deceived. He was not forgiving or merciful. She had no illusions that her life would be a living hell, if not forfeit, to appease the demons that drove Mr. Peck.
    Self-pity would get her nowhere. Frankie had to beat back those demons and fight. She had to do her best to find a way to stop Mr. Callahan from returning her to New York. How, she didn’t know, but she would look for the opportunity. She did, however, need to rest at least for a few minutes.
    She yelled at him through the gag, but he didn’t hear or he chose not to. She worked at the cloth with her tongue and teeth, pushing and wiggling until the gag finally loosened enough for her to talk.
    “We need to stop.”
    He ignored her, the rope between them taut as he drove his horse harder and faster. She yanked on the rope as hard as she could, surprising him. His body jerked and the horse nearly unseated him. Callahan turned to glare at her.
    “That’s a talented tongue you have, lass. Doesn’t matter what you do. Yanking on the rope will gain you naught. You can’t kill me that easy, girlie.”
    “I am not trying to kill you.” Frankie’s thoughts had not considered that possibility and her heart rebelled against the idea, while her head wondered if it were possible. “I need to stop for a minute or two.”
    “We’re not stopping. They’ll be after us, to be sure, and I don’t want to be caught.” Callahan yanked on the rope hard and pain shot through her wrists.
    Frankie’s temper snapped and pushed aside her self-pitying foolishness. She wrapped the rope around her hand twice and tugged for all she was worth. Callahan grunted as he flew off the horse. She hadn’t thought her actions all the way through. Since she was tied to him, she followed the big man right off her own horse.
    She landed hard, half on Callahan’s leg and the other half on uneven ground. Dirt and rocks exploded around them, filling her ears, nose and mouth. The horses’ hooves came within inches of her face, and one clipped her hip. The fall knocked the breath out of her. She lay there, hoping the horses killed her quickly before Callahan got his own breath back and realized what she’d done.
    “What did you do?” he bellowed.
    Frankie rolled off him and onto her side, sucking in a breath. She got to her knees, even if she couldn’t feel the right side of her body, and started crawling like a three-legged dog using her right shoulder and her knees. The rope grew taut when she was six feet away.
    Damn, she’d forgotten about the rope again.
    He dragged her back, knees and shoulder scraping on the very ground that had already bruised her. Frankie tried to resist, but the man was as strong as the oxen that pulled her family’s wagon. She gritted her teeth against the pain, her determination to beat Callahan even stronger.
    “Did you think you would get far, Frankie?” He snorted. “I tie knots the devil himself couldn’t untie.”
    She could believe that. Her hands were nearly numb. “I had to try.”
    He grunted. “No, you didn’t. Foolish woman.” He got to his feet and stared down at her, anger and dirt covering his face. “The horses are half a mile away by now. I hope you can run.”
    Before she could answer, he hauled her to her