feet by the rope. It was her turn to growl at him. “I hope you can carry me, because I am not running.”
“I won’t carry you, but I can drag you.” His expression told her he was serious.
Her skin stung and her hip throbbed from the fall, but she managed to stand up straight and stick her chin in the air. “I will not return easily, Mr. Callahan. You can threaten me as much as you want, but my family is safe. You have nothing to hold over my head.”
“Except pain. Or death.” Callahan started running, pulling her along as though she were a pet on a leash.
Frankie had no choice but to follow, running behind the big enforcer. Blood dripped down her cheek and hands, and her hip and knees would never forgive her. She had to find a smarter way to get away from him. His offer was not acceptable.
She would never give in.
John followed the tracks from the camp, eager to find Frankie and be away from the wagon train for a time. The idea he had a fiancée didn’t sit well with him and no matter what Veronica said, he was going to do his damndest not to marry her.
John had at least a month to find a way to convince Veronica he wasn’t the man for her. He felt ten times the fool for getting into a situation where he was running from a woman. If it hadn’t been happening to him, he might have even laughed. Nothing was funny about it though. Nothing.
Frankie had been taken against her will by the stranger he had allowed to join the wagon train. Callahan had seemed to be a down-on-his-luck man who needed a chance. John didn’t know he was looking for the chance to snatch a woman from her family. Now John was ultimately responsible for the kidnapping and Frankie’s life.
Strange how their first meeting had come full circle. He had saved her from being trampled by a wagon, and now he had handed her to a man and her life was in danger again. He hoped like hell she still had the little gun on her hand, not that it did much damage, but it might give her the chance to get away.
He drove Blue hard, harder than he’d ever done before. The mustang had heart and ran like the wind. Even he couldn’t make up an hour’s time in an instant. The sun rose high in the sky before he realized the prairie had given way to rougher ground. He pulled Blue to a halt and dismounted.
Conscious of his duty to the equine, he poured water from his canteen into his cupped hand over and over until the horse drank his fill. That left a small amount for John, but it didn’t matter. Without the horse, he wouldn’t catch them.
He knelt down and stared at the tracks. The numerous wagons and horses traveling through had all but obliterated any hope of finding tracks from two specific horses. He was going to have to guess which way they went and hope like hell he was right.
His gut twisted at the notion he was taking a chance with Frankie’s life. She was a fighter who would not go down easily, but Callahan was a big man, bigger than most. He could control her with brute strength and although she was strong, she was no match for the Irishman.
John stared at the horizon, looking for anything that might tell him which direction to go. The sun beat down, warm in the cool spring air. A trickle of sweat meandered down his back, following his spine down to his trousers. His breath moved in and out as his heart beat steadily. A calm moved over him and he looked due east, peering until he saw something miles away wink in the sun.
It wasn’t much, but it was a sign, one he would follow. The shine could have been from a prairie dog fart for all he knew, but it could also have been the metal of a bridle. That meant it might be a horse and out here, there wasn’t much on the trail but wagon trains.
He patted Blue’s neck and waited for the mustang to stick his snout against John’s belly, signaling his readiness. He was a smart horse and he spoke even if he didn’t talk.
“We gotta get moving, boy.”
Blue pushed John until he
“I won’t carry you, but I can drag you.” His expression told her he was serious.
Her skin stung and her hip throbbed from the fall, but she managed to stand up straight and stick her chin in the air. “I will not return easily, Mr. Callahan. You can threaten me as much as you want, but my family is safe. You have nothing to hold over my head.”
“Except pain. Or death.” Callahan started running, pulling her along as though she were a pet on a leash.
Frankie had no choice but to follow, running behind the big enforcer. Blood dripped down her cheek and hands, and her hip and knees would never forgive her. She had to find a smarter way to get away from him. His offer was not acceptable.
She would never give in.
John followed the tracks from the camp, eager to find Frankie and be away from the wagon train for a time. The idea he had a fiancée didn’t sit well with him and no matter what Veronica said, he was going to do his damndest not to marry her.
John had at least a month to find a way to convince Veronica he wasn’t the man for her. He felt ten times the fool for getting into a situation where he was running from a woman. If it hadn’t been happening to him, he might have even laughed. Nothing was funny about it though. Nothing.
Frankie had been taken against her will by the stranger he had allowed to join the wagon train. Callahan had seemed to be a down-on-his-luck man who needed a chance. John didn’t know he was looking for the chance to snatch a woman from her family. Now John was ultimately responsible for the kidnapping and Frankie’s life.
Strange how their first meeting had come full circle. He had saved her from being trampled by a wagon, and now he had handed her to a man and her life was in danger again. He hoped like hell she still had the little gun on her hand, not that it did much damage, but it might give her the chance to get away.
He drove Blue hard, harder than he’d ever done before. The mustang had heart and ran like the wind. Even he couldn’t make up an hour’s time in an instant. The sun rose high in the sky before he realized the prairie had given way to rougher ground. He pulled Blue to a halt and dismounted.
Conscious of his duty to the equine, he poured water from his canteen into his cupped hand over and over until the horse drank his fill. That left a small amount for John, but it didn’t matter. Without the horse, he wouldn’t catch them.
He knelt down and stared at the tracks. The numerous wagons and horses traveling through had all but obliterated any hope of finding tracks from two specific horses. He was going to have to guess which way they went and hope like hell he was right.
His gut twisted at the notion he was taking a chance with Frankie’s life. She was a fighter who would not go down easily, but Callahan was a big man, bigger than most. He could control her with brute strength and although she was strong, she was no match for the Irishman.
John stared at the horizon, looking for anything that might tell him which direction to go. The sun beat down, warm in the cool spring air. A trickle of sweat meandered down his back, following his spine down to his trousers. His breath moved in and out as his heart beat steadily. A calm moved over him and he looked due east, peering until he saw something miles away wink in the sun.
It wasn’t much, but it was a sign, one he would follow. The shine could have been from a prairie dog fart for all he knew, but it could also have been the metal of a bridle. That meant it might be a horse and out here, there wasn’t much on the trail but wagon trains.
He patted Blue’s neck and waited for the mustang to stick his snout against John’s belly, signaling his readiness. He was a smart horse and he spoke even if he didn’t talk.
“We gotta get moving, boy.”
Blue pushed John until he
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