“Fuck!” Hatchet bit off the curse as he saw the startled gelding pawing at the air, his eyes rolling wildly so that he could see the whites around the edges. And then he saw the rider, the same farmhand he’d tracked earlier, fly off the saddle. He didn’t realize he was moving until he was already off his own horse and leaping forwards, his arms outstretched in front of him.
He reached the young man just in time, catching the farm hand a bare handful of inches from the ground he’d been about to smash into and Hatchet finally released the breath he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding trapped in his lungs throughout the whole ordeal.
This was the last fucking thing he needed, he thought to himself as he glanced around the otherwise empty field. He’d just gotten the cattle tied up and ready to go after removing the trackers when he’d heard sound coming from this direction. Thinking it might be another stray cow he’d ridden back in a hurry. He hadn’t planned on running into another person all the way out here. Not at this time of night.
He glanced down and all the breath that had just left his lung sucked right back in on a sharp inhale. What the hell? The big brimmed straw hat had gotten knocked loose in the fall and wave after wave of golden blond hair fell over his arm in a silken wave. Hatchet had to blink his eyes in the dark several times to make sure that he wasn’t hallucination. But no. He wasn’t. There really were miles of soft honey colored waves, and as he leaned closer he could just make out the outline of wide cheekbones, a pert nose, and way too kissable lips pouting up at him.
“What the fuck!” He cursed again, realizing instantly that the body he held pressed against him could never, ever belong to a boy. There were way too many lush curves and entrancing peaks and valleys to be anything but one hundred percent potent female. His own body reacted instantly, and inconveniently, and Hatchet nearly cursed again but a soft voice stopped him. Her voice.
“Th–thank you.” She said, and her breath whispered against his face.
“Don’t thank me yet, sweetheart.” He replied with a thick drawl. His twang always grew heavier when he was aroused and there was no doubt in his mind that holding her fine form in his arms was wreaking havoc on his own body, not to mention stalling his mental faculties altogether.
Hatchet stared down at her for another long moment, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that the scrawny farm hand he’d seen earlier was actually this gorgeous woman the whole time. He still couldn’t believe that he’d been so god damned wrong.
Shake it off man. You’ve got a job to do and it sure as hell isn’t ogling this beautiful stranger in the dark. The warning rattled through his brain and it took Hatchet a few more minutes than normal to finally heed it. Reluctantly, he pulled back just enough so that he could look down at her fully, examining her for any injuries he might have been too slow to prevent.
“You okay, baby?” The endearment slipped out too easily at the end of the question and shock froze him for a moment.
“I-I’m fine, I think.” The woman narrowed her eyes at him, “You may have saved my life, mister, and I’m grateful for that. I truly am. But that does not make me your baby.”
“So, you’re someone else’s baby then?” Hatchet asked, and then nearly punched himself in the forehead. Where the hell had that question come from. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Not that it’s any of your damn business,” the spitfire said, still glaring up at him before letting out a sigh and rubbing her temple with one hand, “but no.
Hatchet chose not to look too deeply at the sense of relief he felt at her answer and instead focused on the woman who was now grimacing slightly, still laid out with his arms around her.
“Hey, you sure you’re alright?” He asked worriedly. Partly worried for her health, but the other part was all selfish. He still had the cattle waiting and he couldn’t afford to take her to a hospital. The nearest one was clear out in Chesters point. Not to mention the fact that he couldn’t have her opening her sweet mouth about him.
“I told you I’m fine.” She said with a rough edge to her honeyed voice. Suddenly, she looked around her, “Where’s Goat? Is Goat okay?”
“Your…goat?” Hatchet questions slowly, raising one eyebrow. Maybe she’d hit her head harder than he thought after all.
“Yeah. Goat.” She insisted again, pushing herself up enough to sit and pointing at the horse that she’d been thrown from who was contentedly grazing just a few yards away. Hatchet felt a pang of regret at the loss of her in his arms but at the moment he was more worried about her. Maybe she got a little scrambled in the fall. He sure as fuck hoped so because with every passing second he realized that he couldn’t just let her leave. She’d seen his face. She could ID him. And he sure as hell wasn’t up to babysitting a crazy person until he could figure out what to do with her.
His mind instantly conjured up several, incredibly appealing things he would be more than happy to do with her but he shoved the images to the back of his mind, forcing himself to stay focused.
“Uh…Sweetie, that’s a horse.” He finally said, trying to keep his voice gentle, all the while aware that he was running out of time. They couldn’t just stay there out in the open like that.
The blond beauty rolled her big eyes in his direction. It was too dark to tell their color, but he saw that gesture no problem.
“I know it’s a horse,” she snorted, “The horse’s name is Goat.”
“Goat? Funny name for a horse.” Hatchet said, looking at her askance.
“Funny, maybe. But he looks just fine and that means I can get going.” She said, starting to rise but he stopped her.
“Go?” Hatchet shook his head as he spoke, “I don’t think you understand yet, baby. You aren’t going anywhere except with me.”
“What the hell?” She jerked her body away from him and Hatchet regretted what he was about to do. In his experience, women didn’t really like being told what to do. And they especially didn’t like being tied up and thrown over the back of a horse but that was exactly what was about to happen.
“Come on, sweetheart. It’s gonna be a whole hell of a lot easier on you if you don’t struggle.”
“Struggle?” She hissed out the word, staring at him wide eyed, “I’m not about to let you take me anywhere, mister.”
“It’s not ‘mister’. It’s Hatchet.”
“Oh, that’s real reassuring. Hatchet.” She snorted as she said it. “What sort of name is that anyway?”
“What sort of name is Goat for a horse?” Hatchet shot back.
“This is ridiculous. I’m going home.”
“I’m afraid you’re not, darlin’.” Hatchet sighed, reaching out to grab her arms and that’s when the hollering started.
“Let go of me right now, you…you…insane person! What the hell do you think you’re doing! You have no right to–.” Her angry stream of words cut off abruptly as Hatchet reluctantly shoved the bandana he had in his back pocket in her mouth, quickly tying it securely behind her head.
“I really am sorry about that, sweetheart, but you’re making a ruckus and well, I just can’t have you bringing any attention to me.”
She must have been shocked by the gag because she just stared up at him with those big eyes and he cursed the darkness, suddenly needing to know just what shade they would be. Get your fucking head in the game, Hatchet. You’re no Romeo and this fine female form is sure as hell not your Juliet.
The mental scolding had Hatchet moving quickly, tying her hands together behind her back so she couldn’t move. His hands on her arms kept her from bolting but it did nothing to protect him from the glare she cast over her shoulder at him.
Slowly, as gently as he could, Hatchet patted her down. Running his hands down the side of her ribcage, he marveled at her tiny waist, easily encircling it with his two hands. Halfway through the search he didn’t notice his touch slow, become almost a caress as he swept his palms up and down her lush body. For a long moment, he lost himself in the feel of her, barely remembering what he’d been doing in the first place.
With a jolt, he pulled his hands away from her but his palms were still tingling and the unexpected, and damned unwanted, attraction was still making itself known in the tightening of his body. Hatchet shook his head, cursing himself for a fool, forcing himself to keep his focus on the job ahead of him instead of the delectably curvy woman. It was harder than it should have been.
Quickly, he finished the pat down, finding only her cell phone and threw it the ground behind him ignoring her gasp of outrage. It was muffled by the gag keeping her silent but it did nothing to dilute the glare she was shooting at him now.
“What the hell am I going to do with you?” Hatchet whispered the question out loud but no answer came, just that furious glare and her soft skin glowing pale and luminesce in the moonlight. It was the only light besides the stars that twinkled down at them and before he could second guess himself he was pulling her up to her feet and sweeping her up in his arms like some damned white knight. More like black knight, Hatchet thought to himself. He definitely was not the hero of this story and the figure now wiggling slightly in his arms was no damsel in distress.
He looked down at her then, struck by a vague familiarity as he tried to make out more of her features in the dark but after a moment, he gave up. Jackrabbit’s out there waiting for me and the cattle and I’m standing here drooling over a dirty farm hand, albeit a beautiful one.
With one final look around him, Hatchet carried her over to his horse and after a bit of maneuvering was able to get the woman on the saddle before leaping up to sit behind her. Hatchet breathed in on a sharp inhale as the back of her body fused against his front and her hips nestled tight in the open vee of his own. Hatchet cursed silently again at the delicious feel of her.
Damn it, maybe this was a bad idea after all, he thought as he heeled his horse to a trot. He had to get the cattle and get back to Jackrabbit, fast, before he did something really stupid.
*
What is happening to me? This can’t be real. This just can’t be real. But as Elsie watched the ranch disappear behind her, her hands bound tightly and the stale taste of the fabric still gagging her mouth, she knew just how real it was. She’d been kidnapped. Of all the ridiculous, annoying, bothersome things to have happen to her. Elsie McLaurel. Kidnap victim.
It wasn’t something she’d ever thought would be added to her resume, but she had to admit that the man sitting snuggly behind her on the large stallion wasn’t like any kidnapper she knew. Not that she knew many. Or any personally, if she was being honest. Okay so the only kidnapping she’d ever seen was on the big screen, but if this was a movie he’d be scary and mean, terrifying her, threatening her. Instead he’d been…gentle, if tying up a woman and dragging her off to god knows where could ever be gentle.
And there had been something else there too. Maybe it was just because even in the dark she could see his dark eyes burning over her skin or the fact that he towered over her or that he was handsome as sin all wrapped up in a bad boy package that had her body going haywire. But when he’d touched her, his hands lingering longer than they needed to at the rope binding her wrists together, a spark of electricity had shot through her. Something she’d never felt before, and something, damn her soul to hell and back, she desperately wanted to feel again.
What the hell is wrong with me? I should be fighting. I should be hollering my head off! But she didn’t do either of those things. And that worried her far more than the man currently riding in the saddle behind her.
She’d always been cautious, careful. Too careful according to Rachael. But not jumping off a cliff or running into a burning building was too careful for Rachael. Right then, though, in that moment in the darkness with the feel of his hand big and hot and heavy against her waist, she felt anything but cautious. For the first time in her life, Elsie McLaurel felt reckless. And what was worse, she like it.
That was it. Maybe she really had lost her marbles when Goat had bucked her from the saddle. Maybe she’d hit her head and this was all some big hallucination. Yep, that’s it. That’s the only reasonable answer for all of this. That was the only solution that made sense. She’d finally gone off the deep end.
Elsie held that thought tight as the man, Hatchet he’d called himself, rode confidently through a dark forested area. She had to admit that he knew his way around a horse, the large stallion responding easily to his deft touch on the reins. It made her wonder what else he had a deft touch with and that thought had her cheeks burning a bright hot red that made her glad of the darkness.
He stopped only once to get the cattle he had tied up to a tree just beyond the ranch’s property line and Elsie instantly recognized them as the cows that had been missing earlier in the day. It was too dark to see but she could guess that their trackers were the ones she’d found discarded on the grassy field. After a few moments the cattle ropes were tied up behind the saddle and they were moving again.
She wasn’t sure how long they rode, her thoughts circling around and around like a startled bird with nowhere to land when his deep, gruff voice startled her.
“Here, I think we’re far enough away,” There was that note of gentleness again, the one that had thrown her for a loop when he’d first tied her up. With his free hand, he pointed to the piece of fabric still gagging her. “Now, I’m gonna take this off, and you’re going to be quiet, alright? Otherwise I’ll have to put it back. Got it?”
He was silent for a long moment and Elsie realized he was waiting her answer. In lieu of words she gave her head a slight nod and a minute later she could feel his hand move, brushing across her cheek. She didn’t know if the caress was intentional or not but either way it had chills shivering down the back of her spine.
“You cold?” He asked and Elsie went all flush again. He must have felt the tremor that had shaken her and it had nothing to do with temperature. The gag was untied and slipped away and she gratefully lipped at lips that had long gone dry. A moment later a jacket was slipped around her shoulder and Elsie looked behind her in surprise at the kind gesture.
“What is it?” He asked, noticing her stare and Elsie forced a shrug.
“It’s just that…you’re nice, for a kidnapper.” She said softly and her words earned a scowl from the big man sitting behind her.
“I’m not nice, darling, don’t you ever forget that. I’m not a kidnapper, either.” The last bit was said under her breath and she had the feeling he was talking more to himself than her.
“Then let me go.” She pleaded, some sense of self-preservation forcing her to speak. “Let me go and we’ll just forget all about this. I won’t say anything, I promise.”
He gave her a long look before finally shaking his head. “I don’t think so, sweetheart. It’s far too late for that. You’ll stay with me until I figure out what to do with you. Make things easier on yourself and stay quiet.”
“You have to let me go!” Elsie said, a sudden panic making her lurch in the saddle. The horse beneath her gave a whinny of unease, shaking his head, but Hatchet quickly snaked his arm around her waist, holding her tight against him. He took a moment to calm the animal before growling in her ear.
“If you try that again, I might just let Samson here throw you. And I just might not be there to catch you in time again. Now, I don’t want any trouble.” He cut off abruptly as they trotted out of the tree line and onto an older access road. At this time of night, it was completely deserted of cars but as they crossed the pavement Elsie could just make out a large ditch that ran along the shoulder and at the bottom was a beat up old truck with a trailer attached to it, two motorcycles and standing a little to the side, one very impatient looking man.
“Jesus, Hatchet! It’s about fucking time!” The man exploded, sounding angry while at the same time somehow managing to keep his voice down. Elsie saw the exact moment the new man’s eyes found hers in the dark. She could see the way he stiffened, and then turned a deadly glare towards the man still sitting behind her. “A girl?! Hatchet, we had a plan. Who is she, and what the fuck is going on?”
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