Rons lip curled, showing a glare of white teeth in his blackened face. But before he could answer, Gil broke in, speaking too quickly and with that hint of beligerence.
I was just explaining to Lauren-theyre as much for her safety as anything else. Theres a big ol wilderness out there. Hate to think what might happen if she decided to make a run for it He jerked his head toward the moonlit vista beyond the open door and left his thought unfinished.
But Bronco knew what was on his mind. Out there somewhere, tucked away in all those trees, were four or five dozen men he wouldnt turn his own back on, much less entrust with the safety of a female hostage. A young beautiful female hostage.
He reached over and plucked the cuffs from Ron Masterss hands. I dont think theyre gonna be necessary, he said easily, but just in case He tucked them into his hip pocket and grinned. And for the first time, allowed himself to look closely at his prisoner.
Hed braced himself for it, but even so, the look on her face hit him like a fist to the midsection. Fear, exhaustion, gratitude, hope, anger, resentment and pride-it was a lot to contain in one pair of eyes. It looked to him as if hers were about to spill over, and, he thought if that happened, the shame might be more than a woman with her pride could take.
Meanwhile, Gil was blustering, Well, now while Ron made a sound something like a growl. From the woman sandwiched between them came only a soft intake of breath.
Bronco aimed a look at Gil and raised his eyebrows. You did put me in charge of the prisoner, Commander. Are you relieving me of that duty, sir?
McCullough snorted and shook his head. His eyes narrowed the way they did when he was mulling something over, weighing options. The air sang with unvoiced emotions, silent battles.
Through it all Bronco waited, relaxed and confident. He knew McCullough. And knew who he trusted.
He knew he was right when Gil finally drew himself up and thrust out his chin. Okay, Johnny- he gripped Laurens arm and thrust her at Bronco with uncharacteristic roughness -shes your responsibility. Anything happens to her, Ill have your ass-understood?
Understood, sir. He curved his fingers around her arm and felt her tremble the way a wild mare trembles when shes fresh-caught and snugged up on a short lead, with nowhere to go and no way of knowing whats going to happen to her next.
I had the men pitch her tent up by the spring, Gil said dismissively, already back among his maps and plans. Rigged her a latrine, too. Youll see it when you get up there.
Bronco nodded; he could feel Masterss seething anger as he guided Lauren past him. He felt it follow him out the door, across the thick plank porch and down the steps. He knew hed made an enemy tonight, but that didnt particularly bother him. One more reason to watch his back. Another reminder that he couldnt afford to let his guard down-ever.
At the bottom of the steps he let go of Laurens arm long enough to pick up his bedroll and gear. When he had them tucked under his arm and went to reach for her again, she shook him off and pulled her arm away like a child in a sulk.
He paused and looked at her in surprise; he found the defiance a little hard to figure out, considering a few moments ago shed been scared out of her wits and on the verge of tears. You know where youre going? he asked mildly.
She glared back at him in stony silence. He shook his head and gave his bedroll a hitch; he was starting to think maybe those handcuffs werent such a bad idea, after all.
Look, he said, keeping his voice low so the two men in the cabin doorway couldnt hear it, since you dont know where were going, you cant very well lead. And Im sure as hell not going to let you at my back. Now, you can walk along beside me like were out for a nice stroll in the moonlight and I can take your arm as a common courtesy, or I can tow you along on a lead rope like a balky mule. Which is it gonna be?
Lauren, who had fixed her gaze on a spot about a foot to the left of his shoulder, didnt reply. She couldnt bring herself to look at him, didnt trust herself to speak; she felt too fragile, too frightened, too confused. Every reasoning part of her had rebelled against her hearts appalling response to Broncos just-in-the-nick-of-time return-that surge of hope and joy, the trembling, weak-kneed relief. What was that all about?
Oh, this was dangerous-dangerous and wrong. He was one of them, her captor, the enemy! Shed read about such things-hostages becoming dependent on, even forming emotional attachments to their captors. Shed only been a captive for a day! Was her character so weak, her courage so lacking? She felt profoundly disappointed in herself.
A sound from the cabin jerked her glance upward. Adrenaline surged through her like an electrical charge. Reason be damned; survival instincts took over, forcing a breath from her body along with a whispered Okay.
A sound from the cabin jerked her glance upward. Adrenaline surged through her like an electrical charge. Reason be damned; survival instincts took over, forcing a breath from her body along with a whispered Okay.
Broncos fingers wrapped around her arm. He jerked her out of the way as Ron Masters brushed past them, so close Lauren could feel his body heatsmell his scent, something feral and indefinably menacing.
Smart choice, Bronco muttered dryly. He gestured with the saddlebags toward the side of the cabin. Its this way.
A stroll in the moonlight. The moon was in the west, just beginning its downward arc, so brilliant it cast their fore-shortened shadows before them as they climbed. Beyond the cabin the ground rose sharply to skirt the rock formation, alternately bare rock and a thick spongy carpet of pine needles. The air was cool and smelled of pine and damp earth. Overhead a breeze was a constant sound in the treetops. It was a sound Lauren had read about, but never actually heard before. She found it indescribably lonely.
She tried focusing on the sound as a way to mask the discomfort of her sore legs. But she was too tired, and the pain was too intense. And in the end the pain created its own kind of anesthesia, blocking out everything else-the fear, the anger, the bewilderment and humiliation, the powerlessness and frustration. She plodded numbly along, conscious only of pain.
And of Broncos fingers on her arm. Yes, maybe that most of all.
Once she slipped on some loose gravel, and his fingers tightened as he held her upright. Almost there, he murmured. She pressed her lips together and nodded; shed heard him use the same tone when soothing horses.
But his words brought her back to full awareness, and she saw that they were following a pipe, wrapped with insulation and laid across the surface of a granite slope. From somewhere up ahead she could hear the happy sound of water trickling over stone. A few steps more and the pipe ended in a natural spring, and below it the overflow made a glimmering trail across rock made spongy with moss and lichen. Bronco muttered, Watch your step, as he steadied her across the treacherous slope, which ended in a level grassy area, a tiny meadow ringed with pines.
She could almost have touched the tent before she saw it, since it was made of camouflage material and tucked in the deep shadows just at the edge of the trees. She waited, numb and silent, while Bronco dumped the saddlebags and bedroll on the ground and unzipped the flap, then ducked his head and shoulders into the tent. A moment later the cool light of a battery lantern spilled through the opening. He picked up her saddlebags and tossed them into the tent, gestured with his hand and said, In you go.
Enfolded in numbness, a curious calm that seemed to have no connection to her rapidly beating heart, Lauren moved through the opening. Inside, she straightened and drew a deep breath.
Okay, it wasnt so bad-big enough to sleep four comfortably, she imagined. And it appeared that efforts had been made in consideration of her needs. A puffy sleeping bag had been spread out at the far end. Next to it was a plastic storage bin with a lid-she supposed that was for whatever belongings shed brought with her.
There was a small folding table and a folding canvas stool, a large plastic bucket and a plastic jug-for water, she assumed. The lantern hung from something overhead. Perhaps it was because she was so tired, weary in every muscle and bone, but the tent seemed a welcoming comforting place to her, almost cozy. She was conscious of a treacherous sense of safety, almost of relief.
Until she realized that behind her, Bronco had come into the tent and brought his saddlebags and bedroll with him.
You Her voice was gravelly from prolonged disuse. And now also from shock. She cleared it and began again. Whatre you doing? Youre not sleeping in here, are you? With me.
He paused to give her a long silent look. Then he dropped the saddlebags to the floor and reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out the handcuffs. He faced her, casually balancing his bedroll on one hip, the cuffs dangling from one finger of the other hand as he jerked his head, indicating each in turn, and said softly, Which is it gonna be?
Lauren closed her eyes. Of all the things that had happened to her in the past couple of days, this seemed the most unbelievable. The most untenable. That she could be sharing sleeping quarters-a tent-with this man. Johnny Bronco.
Lets get something straight, Laurie Brown. His voice was quiet, but not the soothing one shed heard before. Now it had sharp edges and uneven facets, like hand-hewn obsidian.
Opening her eyes, she saw that hed knelt and was spreading his bedroll on the floor in front of the tents opening. When he paused to look at her, one forearm resting on his knee, the same hardness, the same multitude of facets were in his eyes.
He spoke slowly and deliberately, as if to a misbehaving child. You are safe with me. And that is the only place you are safe. While you are here in this camp, you will stay with me at all times. You do not step one foot outside this tent unless I am with you. Do I make myself clear? When she didnt answer he repeated it slowly, with emphasis. Do you understand?