The Bounty Page 13

  Tyler was torn between stopping those God-awful tears and kissing her breathless. Her thick curls were tickling his chest, whispering caresses on his neck and cheek. She was so warm and alive, and so needy. As if in answer to his body’s rising awareness, she started kissing his neck. Her small kisses were like oil on a fire. His groin was pressed up against her hip. And she’d left her breasts unbound. One lay against his chest, the other his arm, and they felt like branding irons. He was stupidly pleased to notice that she had put the wedding band back on her finger. It looked comfortable on the slender digit.

  He groaned and caught her mouth in a passionate union. His fierceness startled him, but she answered it equally. He dragged his lips from hers, looking down into her tear-stained face. Her eyes were drowsy with passion. She was, incredibly, smiling at him.

  “It’s still there,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “The fire. I thought it might have burned itself out after this morning. I was wrong.”

  “Oh.”

  She suddenly blushed. Her awareness brought him back to earth. This was far too comfortable. He stood, setting her feet gently down on the ground. He led her to her horse and shackled her wrists again, averting his eyes as he worked.

  After he mounted his horse, he urged both forward.

  “We’ll stop in an hour or so and eat,” he said, voice tight.

  Was there ever a woman who could match him? Who stood as strong and proud as he? No, never. Nicky was uniquely like him, his soul mate, his kindred spirit, his other half. The invisible thread had pulled them together at last. He was in love with her.

  Jesus help me. What the hell am I supposed to do now?

  When they stopped to eat, Tyler headed for a nearby stream alone after securing the horses’ reins to a tree. He needed to fill the canteens and dunk his head. The memory of Nicky’s body pressed up against him was just too vivid, too hot. When did he lose control? It was unacceptable. Things had to smooth out, to revert to normal. His sanity depended on it.

  ———

  Nicky watched Tyler stalk away. He had scowled blackly since their kiss earlier. His handsome face had never once turned her way. Just as well. She slipped the hairpin in the lock of the first shackle. She wriggled and twisted it as much as she dared. It wasn’t working. Perspiration dotted her brow as she tried desperately to free her hands. Her heart was thundering in her ears and she imagined she heard Tyler’s heavy footfalls coming back.

  “Pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

  Just when she thought the hairpin would break, she heard a “click” and the cuff popped open. Staring at her free hand with her mouth unhinged, she realized precious time was slipping away as she sat there and gawked. Maneuvering the pin to free the other hand, she kept darting furtive glances toward the direction Tyler had gone. A second “click” and her other hand was free. Gently, she placed the shackles on Tyler’s saddle. After untying Juliet’s reins, she slowly trotted away, breaking into a gallop as she fled to freedom.

  ———

  Tyler raised his head from the cool water and shook his head, spraying droplets of water all over his shirt. He ran his fingers through his wet hair, wringing the moisture from it. He was surprised Nicky wasn’t bellowing to be let loose. Maybe she needed to dunk her head, too. He shivered from the memory of her wet hair after her bath last night.

  “Enough.”

  It was time to think with his brain again instead of his nether regions. This woman was still a wanted outlaw, regardless if he was in love with her. Never once did he ever feel remorse for the outlaws he dragged back for a bounty. Why the hell did he ever take Owen Hoffman’s offer? He didn’t know how to control his rampaging emotions, because he hadn’t let himself have any for twenty years. He felt like he was pulling and yanking on that invisible thread, trying to stretch it back out between them. Like a wolf gnawing on his leg to free himself from a trap.

  He filled both canteens and stomped back to the horses. At first he couldn’t believe his eyes. Only his gelding Sable stood there, whinnying softly. He blinked, trying to comprehend what he saw. The shackles sat atop his saddle. She was gone.

  Nicky was gone.

  She couldn’t have more than a few minutes head start. He jammed the shackles into his saddlebag, swung the canteens onto the saddle horn, and threw himself into the saddle.

  He spurred his horse forward, glad to have such a large, fast beast. Damn her. How did she get free? He felt angry, betrayed, and somehow…hurt. No. No woman was going to turn him into a simpering fool. It was the goddamn frigging bounty that mattered, not Nicky.

  He could see the fresh hoofprints in the damp, scrubby ground. The fog was making it impossible to hear anything, though. He cursed himself up and down for letting her out of his sight. No prisoner had ever escaped from him before, but then again, Nicky was no ordinary prisoner. She was his wife, his lover, his heart, his soul.

  And she had just left him. And taken every scrap of warmth with her.

  ———

  Nicky hunkered down as low as she could in the saddle. The cold wind whistled through her ears as she fled from the man she loved. She had to smash her hat down on her head to keep it from flying off as her curls flapped like a flag. Her heart was trip-hammering in fear and elation. She had done it. Escaped from Tyler. She ignored the sadness that threatened to tear her heart from her chest…she’d deal with those emotions later.

  She was headed east toward Nebraska, or so she thought anyway. This darned fog gave her no help. Suddenly Juliet’s hooves were silent. It took a moment for Nicky to realize that the ground was gone and they were flying over the edge of a precipice. The ground rushed up at them with dizzying speed. Nicky let out a short scream before they landed, and then all was black.

  ———

  Tyler thought he’d heard something, but couldn’t pinpoint the noise. As he approached the ravine that marked the border between Wyoming and Nebraska, he pulled Sable to a halt. He needed to determine which way she would go. East, definitely not west. That would lead her back toward him. He turned his horse and started to spur him forward when he saw hoofprints on the ground in front of him, facing the ravine.

  “What the hell?”

  She couldn’t have jumped it. It was twenty feet wide at this point. Still…he dismounted with a curse. If she had, there was no way he’d catch her today. Sable couldn’t make that kind of jump. He knelt to examine the tracks when his eye caught something in the ravine.

  Nicky.

  Oh, Jesus.

  Cold, raw fear coiled in his stomach.

  He picketed Sable quickly since there were no trees close by to tether his reins, then tied a rope to his horse’s saddle with trembling fingers. He clambered down the side of the ravine and saw her sprawled flat on her back, arms and legs every which way, deathly still. Her horse was near death; the poor thing had two broken legs, and was wheezing slowly.

  He forced his legs to move to Nicky. There was blood on her forehead and her lip was split. He could see her left arm was twisted at an unnatural angle. He knelt down on the damp sandy ground, and slowly lowered his ear to her chest.

  Please God, don’t take her from me.

  She was breathing and had a heartbeat. Relief flooded through him like summer sunshine. Alive. Nicky was alive. After laying his jacket over her still form, he climbed back up to his horse and retrieved his saddlebags, a canteen and his rifle. He almost jumped back into the ravine off the rope, anxious to return to her, but her horse would come first. Patting the mare’s head as he slipped Nicky’s saddle, bedroll, and saddlebags off, her soulful brown eyes regarded him, pleading with him. With a clean shot, he put her out of her misery. The gunshot sounded stilted in the fog. He grabbed Nicky’s saddlebags and hurried over to her.

  Tyler took a pair of stockings and Nicky’s book to secure her arm in a makeshift splint. It would have to do until he found a sturdy piece of wood, or until they could get to a doctor. He slowly felt her legs,
arms and ribs for any other injuries. He let out a sigh of relief when he couldn’t feel any.

  He laid out her bedroll quickly, and gently set her on it. He stared down at her a moment, willing her to waken. Tyler wondered if she ever would. What would he do then? Disgusted with his morbid thoughts, he pushed them aside. Grabbing a cloth, he poured some cool water on it, carefully wiping the blood from her face. She was pale as milk and had a deep gash near her hairline that was bleeding. He pressed a clean cloth against it, dismayed at his reaction to blood. It wasn’t just any blood, though, it was her blood. He forced himself to continue.

  Stop being such a nancy-boy.

  Hardening his resolve, he began to bandage her wounds. After overcoming his tremors, he looked at his handiwork and decided he could make a halfway decent nurse. Glancing around, he realized that they were too near Nicky’s horse. He’d have to make camp away from the carcass and away from any predators that might be drawn to the scent of blood. He’d do anything to protect his wife.

  Chapter Twelve

  It was twilight when Nicky slowly came into consciousness to the sound of a crackling fire. The warmth of the flames tickled her cheeks like a caress. And then there was pain, searing pain in her arm and her head, and a thousand other small places on her body. She groaned, but it sounded more like a kitten’s mewl. The memory of the fall hit her like a blow to the chest. Juliet. She struggled to open her eyes, but even blinking was agony. When she finally succeeded, her eyes refused to focus. She could see a dark shape cooking over the campfire.

  “Tyler,” she croaked, barely above a whisper.

  He started at the sound of her voice, his eyes incredulous. Setting down his skillet, he approached her, reaching out to feel her forehead with one callused palm. His hand then caressed her cheek.

  “You’re awake.” His voice was low, grave. “I had my doubts there, magpie. How do you feel?”

  “Like I was in a stampede.”

  Turning, he took his canteen and poured some fresh water into a tin cup for her. Ever so gently he lifted her head and placed the cup to her lips.

  “Drink.”

  She tried to drink deeply, suddenly aware she was parched. Tyler pulled the cup away.

  “Not too fast. You’ve got to go easy. Your stomach has been without food for too long.”

  “How long?”

  “Four days.”

  Her heart began to beat faster as the pain in her head grew to a throbbing crescendo. She goggled at him. He had taken care of her for four days?

  “Juliet?”

  He shook his head and avoided looking at her directly. “I had to let her go. Both her front legs were broken.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. Oh, Juliet, I’m so sorry, she wailed inside. The tears went unshed as she met Tyler’s gaze. He looked positively worried. His brow was furrowed as he took in her pale face.

  “Tyler…I…thank you.” She didn’t know how to convey her gratitude. It still felt awkward to say thank you to the bounty hunter that had captured her even if he was her husband.

  “It was a dumb thing you did, Nicole. Running like that in the fog, over unfamiliar ground. You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck instead of just hurting your arm and slicing up your head. You’re not much of an escape artist.”

  His voice was soft, instead of harsh. She tried to smile at him.

  “I had to check your arm myself, used your stockings to wrap it up tight so I could move the camp farther away from the horse’s carcass. I waited, but then you didn’t wake up. I needed to make sure it wasn’t broken.” He looked at her grimly. “It looks like just a sprain. You were lucky.”

  Nicky glanced at her arm. Tyler had redone the setting in the meantime, so her arm was bound to a makeshift splint with her stockings and strips from a shirt. That’s when she realized she only wore her chemise under the blanket. For all intents and purposes, she was naked. That felt even odder than the fact Tyler took care of her. He was obviously the person who removed all her clothes in the first place. Nicky forced herself not to blush.

  “Let me finish cooking and you can get something in your stomach.” He returned to the fire and picked up the frying pan he’d been using. The silence was comfortable between them as the sounds of the night began to play their age-old song.

  “Tell me about your life,” she murmured, eyes closed.

  “Why?”

  Nicky opened her eyes to study her husband’s face. The flickering firelight danced across his handsome features, making his blue eyes look like fathomless pools.

  “Well, you are my husband, and I want to know. Besides, you have an advantage. You have ‘a file’ on me.”

  His scowl didn’t vanish—if anything, it deepened at her attempt at levity.

  “Come on, Tyler,” she cajoled. “Please?”

  His face softened as he exhaled the breath he was holding. “Not much to tell.”

  “Then it shouldn’t take you long.”

  “Pushy witch.”

  “You’re from Texas?”

  “Yeah, from near Houston.” He paused while she waited patiently for him to continue. Nicky realized she was treading on dangerous ground, so she stepped lightly, praying that he’d open himself up to her.

  “My pa was a sheriff. I grew up walking, talking, hell, breathing, as a future lawman. He took me with him when he could. Most of the time, they were small-town problems—nothing dangerous. My ma was so scared I’d get hurt, she clucked like a mother hen when I’d saddle my horse to go out with my pa.”

  “Any brothers or sisters?” she asked when he paused.

  “No. Had a sister, Lily, who died when I was five and she was seven. Rattlesnake bite. She was hiding from me behind the woodpile. She liked to outsmart her little brother.” He kept his eyes on the fire as he spoke. “Ma never really got over her death, so she tried to smother me. I pushed her away.”

  Nicky reached out and held his hand with her good arm. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t close his long fingers around hers either.

  “When I was around ten, Pa and me rode out to the McMillan farm. There was a report of a missing milk cow so he let me come—it probably just wandered away, right?” His lips twisted into a sneer. “Little did we know that an outlaw on the run had killed her for food. We found her carcass butchered a few miles from the farm. The son of a bitch was hiding and panicked when he saw us. Without a word, he shot my father dead in the back.”

  Nicky couldn’t contain her gasp. What a thing for a ten-year-old child to witness. At nineteen, she had been an adult, and still she felt the pain of Logan’s death as if it was yesterday. The pain must have been unbearable for a child.

  “I turned to see him walking toward me…guns drawn. I tried to wrestle my pa’s gun from the holster, but I wasn’t quick enough. He shot me, too.”

  Nicky’s hand squeezed reflexively around Tyler’s as she mourned the childhood that had been taken away from him so cruelly. The old scar on his back was explained. The wound of a child thrust into manhood. And she’d been responsible for the newest scars inflicted by Hermano.

  “Lucky for me, it went straight through and buried itself in my father’s body. After that bastard ran, I crawled to my horse and rode back to the McMillans’ house. I lived, but it was three months before I got out of bed. The only thing that kept me alive was revenge. I was gonna find that bastard and kill him.”

  The hatred in his eyes chilled Nicky to the bone. Had he lived so long with that emotion that it had stained his soul?

  “It took eight years until I found him, not as a lawman, but as a bounty hunter. He was worth three hundred alive, half that dead. After I was done with his worthless hide, I was lucky I got the hundred and fifty. From then on, I drifted from bounty to bounty. Built my reputation as the best.” He finally slid his glance to Nicky. “Only the best to find the best.”

  The look in his eyes was predatory in the firelight. She needed to break the spell he had woven with his tale of death and miser
y.

  “What happened to your mother?”

  He turned his gaze back to the fire. “She died of grief within a year. Once I was finally healed, it was like she had given up. I was on my own after that.”

  Nicky’s brows furrowed. “You were on your own at the age of eleven?”

  “I was almost twelve by that point, but I was big for my age. People thought I was about sixteen.”

  Nicky mumbled under her breath, “I don’t doubt that, you’re still big.”

  “I worked the range, just like you. Taking jobs when I could, learning all I could from anybody who could teach me.”

  “Sounds like a lonely life, Calhoun. The ring?”

  He nodded. “It was hers. The only thing I had left from her.”

  Nicky took a deep breath, biting back the sound of grief she wanted to express for the child Tyler had been. “I’m sorry for what you had to go through as a child. No wonder you’re as tough as you are. You couldn’t have survived without it. I don’t know how I’ve survived on my own for the past three years.”

  “You’re tougher than you look, Malloy.” His mouth quirked up at the corners in a semi-smile.

  “That’s Mrs. Calhoun to you, mister,” she teased. The minute the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. His face immediately transformed back into the stoic mask she was so used to seeing. He had closed the door again. She sighed and tried to find a comfortable position on the hard ground.

  “I miss my family with an ache,” Nicky said after a few minutes of silence. “It’s been over three years since I saw them, and now,” she shrugged, “I’m sure they’re ashamed of me. After all, they think I’m a thief and a murderer.”

  She sighed as the enormity of the last three years settled on her shoulders. “When you’ve lost so much, it seems near to impossible to get any of it back.”

  It was then that Tyler finally squeezed her hand. It was a lightning bolt of hope that coursed through her bruised body and heart.