Chapter Thirty-Five
In a mad dash down the mountain with Aaron on his heels, Heath prayed he’d find Jenny safe at home, as he’d left her that morning. Sadly, that wasn’t the case. His wayward bride, who seemed unable to keep from landing in the middle of trouble time and again, was gone.
His next stop was the stable where two of the stable boys filled him in on her hasty departure only an hour earlier. Although he hated to, he left Baron, who was lathered with sweat, and saddled a fresh mount. He and Aaron then rode hell bent for leather the five miles to the Harper farm. Heath’s worry eased a bit that she had gone with George instead of on her own. As he rode, however, instead of prayers, his thoughts were now preoccupied with tanning his disobedient bride’s bottom until she learned to stay put and stop worrying her man.
Both horses were blowing hard when they arrived at the farm. Gun in hand, Heath slid from his saddle and all but flew up the steps and into the house.
“Jenny?” He listened, but the only sound was his shout echoing off the bare floors of the old house. He was on the third step to the upper floor when he heard faint noises from the kitchen. Aaron raced past him down the hallway, with him a half-step behind.
As they bolted through the door, they skidded to a stop, seeing the woman lying on her side in a toppled chair, hands bound behind her. She was trying to speak around the wad of cloth in her mouth.
Footsteps in the hall behind them had Aaron and Heath spinning. Their guns were cocked and ready as George came into view.
“Ma,” he called out, rushing to where she lay bound and gagged on the floor.
Seeing no imminent threat, Aaron moved immediately to assist George with his ma who’d already righted her chair and was working on the ropes binding her wrists.
“Where’s Jenny?” Heath demanded frantically.
“You mean—” George’s eyes widened. “I sent her in here while I saw to the horses. It couldn’t have been more than fifteen or twenty minutes.”
Their eyes shifted to Sally Gleason, who coughed as Aaron released the gag. “That awful man took her.”
“What man?” Heath demanded.
“I didn’t know him.” She nodded toward the table as she rubbed her reddened wrists. “He left a note. Said he was going to make you Jacksons pay for what you’d done to him.”
Heath growled as he reached for the folded paper. It changed into a deafening roar after he’d scanned it, then read it aloud.
Leave $25,000 cash beneath the dead oak tree in the far pasture by sunset tomorrow. If I see deputies or armed men, she loses a finger.
Make me wait, and the price doubles. Keep me waiting, I might get bored and have to find something to keep me occupied with your pretty bride.
“I’ll kill him if he hurts her, Aaron. Swear to God I will.” Heath’s voice was raw with anger and fear.
“I hear you, brother. I’ll head back to fetch Luke; by the look of the sky riding in, we’ll have snow and will need a tracker.”
“I’ll go to the ranch and get Whitefeather,” Heath called over his shoulder, already halfway down the hall.
His horse seemed to sense his desperation, and although he’d already been pushed hard, he easily carried Heath at a full run the additional miles to the big house.
* * *
The rope dug into her skin as she twisted and pulled. It hurt, but she was determined to ignore the pain and get free. She’d been working at the ropes constantly since he’d tied her and thrown her like a sack of flour over his horse. Facedown with her hair falling over her face, she had no idea what direction he’d taken or what his plan was until they stopped. When he at last dragged her off the horse, she was shocked to be led to a covered wagon. Kicking and screaming, she called him thrice a fool for thinking they could withstand the Wyoming weather in a wagon with only a few skimpy blankets for warmth. Jenny had called him a naïve city slicker and hurled other insults, until he gagged her.
He hadn’t recognized the truth of her words until the snow started flying and they were both shivering from cold. Cursing, he hefted her back over the horse and set off again. That had been after sunset last night.
After riding in the frigid blowing cold for however long, he stopped at last and dragged her in here, tying her to the chair, where she remained. Twice he had let her up to use the necessary, tying her hands in front and acting as if he was making a magnanimous gesture instead of being considerate of her basic human need. Even then, holding up her skirts and lowering her drawers with bound hands wasn’t easy, but she wasn’t about to ask her contemptible uncle for help.
One thing good had come of it. When Eugene retied her, he didn’t do a very good job and carelessly left her room to maneuver a bit. If she could only get her thumb through that one slack loop, she was sure she could get free. Giving him a sidelong glance, she noted he was staring out the window, on guard as he’d been almost continuously since taking her.
On one of her trips outside during the daylight, she’d gotten a good look around and recognized where they were. It was a Jackson line cabin, about an hour’s ride north of the farm. She wondered if he knew. If he did, and thought Heath wouldn’t check here, he was an even bigger fool than she thought.
When her thumb suddenly popped free, she froze. The pressure on her wrists eased off immediately. Barely suppressing a shout of triumph, Jenny looked over at Eugene, making sure he was distracted. She saw him turn from the window and stare at her. Jenny stared back. Had he seen? Masking her alarm, she waited.
“I’m debating leaving you here rather than taking you with me. I thought to bring you along as a shield, just in case, but you’re a pain in the ass.”
Jenny smirked internally; she hadn’t planned to make any of this easy on him. “You know my marriage wasn’t a love match. You don’t honestly believe they’d spend that kind of money on an unwanted bride, even if they were able to get $25,000 cash overnight.”
“Yesterday, you said your husband was going to kill me. Which is it?”
She had said that, she’d forgotten. Exhausted and hungry, she obviously wasn’t keeping her threats and taunts straight.
“You better hope they come up with the cash or you’ll be struggling to play your arpeggios with nine digits.”
“I hate you,” she whispered, nauseated by his cruelty.
“I’m heartbroken.”
She ignored his derision, silently glaring her loathing. How he and her papa had come from the same parent, she’d never know. She watched as he prepared to leave. Knowing he was setting off to steal a fortune from her husband and his family, a bitterness burned the back of her throat. When he went into the only other room of the small two-room cabin, she yanked at the ropes, twisting her hands every which way in a frenzied effort to get free. Giving a hard tug despite the painful scraping of the rope, she felt the heel of her hand slip out of the top of the bindings. Blessedly, the ropes fell away and she was free.
Pushing to her feet, she stood for a moment, rubbing circulation back into her hands and compelling her legs, long since numb, to work. She moved stiffly, staggering across the room, her movements not quite right after being in the same position for so many hours. With difficulty, she made it to the hearth and the tools she’d been eyeing since yesterday. Carefully, she eased the iron poker out of the stand and took her place beside the door. Waiting, heart pounding in her chest, she silently bade her hands to stop shaking.
* * *
Heath watched with dread as Joseph Whitefeather rose from his crouch slowly. As he turned, his eyes cut briefly to Aaron, who stood at his side, where he’d been constantly for the past twenty-four hours. The tracker’s face was grim as he reluctantly glanced his way and shook his head. It was another dead end. Heath walked away, closing his eyes as defeat washed over him.
The gusting wind at his back brought a burst of swirling snow with it. A series of squalls had set in at midday yesterday and hadn’t let up since. The snow covered footprints and hoofmarks, and any hint of a trail, making it impossible for Joseph and Luke to track them. Barely feeling the cold in his state of constant tension, he still cursed the weather, Wyoming, and the bastard who had taken her, consigning them all to the devil.
Thoughts of what Eugene Harper was doing to Jenny plagued him, running through his head unendingly. At once, they made him want to shout with rage and weep with anguish. He kept picturing her beautiful face, cut and bruised as it was the last time she’d been alone with him. It made his stomach churn.
Turning back to his brother, he asked, “Have we checked all the cabins?”
“Yes.”
“We’ll do it again,” Heath commanded.
“Heath,” Luke began.
“Check them again, goddammit.” he yelled, at his wits’ end.
Aaron took a step toward him. “I know exactly how you feel. When Jessup had Janelle on that mountain… You have to think and use the men effectively to—”
“Fuckin’ hell! I’ll check them myself.”
Heath spun on his heel, trudging through the snow toward his horse. A hand caught his arm and yanked him around. Fists clenched, he tamped down the urge to use them to purge some of his fear and frustration. Meeting Aaron’s concerned gaze, Heath knew he, more than anyone, would understand how close he was to snapping.
“I can’t just do nothing. I’ll go mad.” His eyes shot to Luke, who was now standing at Aaron’s shoulder. “With or without you, I’m going to keep searching.”
As Aaron stared at him, Heath saw his eyes shrewdly assessing and weighing his words. At last, he nodded. Striding to his horse, he said resignedly, “Fine, we’ll search them again, but you’re not going alone.” Aaron swung into the saddle, Luke and Joseph doing the same. Heath was the last seated, but the first to spur his horse. “Let’s start with the western ridge where they first began searching yesterday. He could have circled back.”