Worth what? Us? We? Wait- Who are you people?
But the door had closed between them, and her only answer was the heavy thunk of the steel bar dropping across it.
Lauren stood and stared at the rough boards while her heart bumped painfully against her breastbone and her eyes burned in their sockets. Silent sobs scoured her throat. But though her jaws cramped and her body trembled with the strain, she held them back. She would not cry. If she didwell, for one thing, shed never forgive herself.
Besides, something told her that once she gave in to the fear she was beaten. She didnt know who these people were or why theyd taken her prisoner, or why they thought shed be of value to them, but as long as she was alive and kept her wits about her, they hadnt won. No sir. It would take a lot more than being locked up in a saddle house to defeat Lauren Elizabeth Brown! Hadnt her aunt Lucy told her once that she was descended from a woman whod survived an Indian attack by setting fire to her own homestead, then tying her baby up in her apron and climbing down into a well? And come to think of it, hadnt Aunt Lucy herself, all of five feet tall and a hundred pounds soaking wet, once thwarted her own kidnappers by setting fire to the Chicago high-rise they were holding her in?
She could almost hear Aunt Lucys funny rusty-nail voice saying, Just dont lose your head, Lolly Brown. Keep your wits about you, and youll be all right.
Keep your wits about you. Think, Lolly, think!
Lolly. She hadnt thought of that childhood nickname in years. Her brother Ethan had begun calling her that because when he was little he couldnt pronounce the name Lauren. She remembered how shed hated it when hed learned that stupid song: Lollypop, Lollypop, oh, Lolly Lollypop Shed punched him good for singing it, too, more than once. But nobody had called her that sinceoh, Lord, it must have been since she was ten or eleven years old. Yes, it had been-the year her parents divorced, the year shed gotten her first horse, Star. The year Dixie had come to live with them. The year
Then the memories were tumbling in on her, memories of the one time before in her life when shed known fear like this. When shed felt as utterly and desperately alone. This wasnt the first time shed been taken and held against her will.
That other time, of course, she hadnt been alone. Even now, sixteen years later, she could feel Ethans small hand creeping into hers, feel his warm body snuggling against her for warmth and comfort, hear his quivering voice whispering, Lolly? Will you sing me a song? even though he knew she couldnt carry a tune in a bucket. Ethan-her baby brother-twenty-two years old now, and a premed junior at UCLA. But she could still remember as if it were yesterday the overwhelming burden of responsibility that had made her feel even more alone. This time, at least, she had only herself to think about.
Oh, but thats not true.
No, it wasnt true at all. Because suddenly she knew why she was here, locked in this saddle house on an Arizona horse ranch. She knew why she was worth something to these people, even if she didnt know exactly who they were.
It was because they knew who she was.
Hi, Im Lauren Brown-we spoke on the phone? About that bay stud you have for sale?
Gil McCulloughs vivid blue gaze narrowed as it swept over her in openly masculine appraisal, producing a charming fan of creases in the tanned skin at the corners of his eyes. He held the hand shed offered just a beat longer than necessary, while his smile broadened to reveal strong vaguely predatory teeth.
Well, hello, Lauren Brown. I sure do remember our phone conversation, but tell you the truth, I wasnt expecting to see you till tomorrow. And yet his tone said plainly he didnt mind all that much that shed come early. It was a ploy Lauren recognized, designed to disarm her and at the same time put her on the defensive.
In fact, the man McCullough was himself a type she recognized, and about what she might have expected from the brief conversation shed had with him on the phone. He was big, lean and weathered, with a full head of silver-gray hair worn in a crewcut, a cowboys squint and a strong clean-shaven jaw. A handsome man, which she also could have guessed, given his supreme self-confidence and slightly seductive tone on the telephone. The only surprise was an almost military bearing that set him well apart from the ranchers shed come to know back in Texas. Most of them, neighbors of the Tipsy Pee, were rump-sprung, stove-up and gimpy-legged by the time they were fifty, from too much time spent either on top of or getting thrown off some four-legged beast or other. Shed have to peg Gil McCullough as more the executive type, one whod come to ranching as a hobby after acquiring his wealth in some other more dependable line of work. The type who patrolled his lands and herds from four-wheel-drive vehicles and sleek single-engine airplanes. In any case, an alpha male through and through, absolutely certain of his dominance over men and women alike.
Fortunately Lauren wasnt intimidated by such men. Or attracted to them, either. She couldnt be and have much hope of surviving-and thriving-in the legal profession. Shed managed to do both those things by meeting such men head-on, armed with her own arsenal of brains and self-assurance-tempered, when necessary, with a judiciously applied veneer of feminine charm.
When necessary meant she wasnt above employing a healthy dollop of that charm now. Which was why, before answering, she took off her hat and finger-combed her blond hair back from her damp forehead as she slanted a smile to meet the ranchers mildly rebuking frown. Well, now, Mr. McCullough-
Aw, call me Gil, honey-please.
Well, Gil, honey, she said softly, teasingly, you know, you werent very forthcoming about giving me a price. I figured Id better get on over here and talk to you face-to-face, see if we can agree on the numbers before I take a look at the horse.
McCullough laughed playfully, showing those formidable teeth. Well, yeah, but thats the idea, dont you see? Youve got to come see ol Cochise Red before I tell you my price.
Lauren laughed, too, even producing a dimple. Oh, but thats not fair. See, I know what youre up to. Youre trying to get me out there to see him so Ill fall in love with him. Get me so set on having him, Ill agree to any price! Several of the men lounging in the cottonwood shade near the camper laughed, and someone called, Shes got your number, Gil.
McCullough drew himself up in mock offense, a subtly aggressive posture disguised as banter. You bet I am. Hey, listen-let me tell you something. Cochise Reds one helluva horse. Whoever gets hims gonna have to pay me what hes worth. And tell you something else-whoever meets my price is gonna get their moneys worth.
Oh, I believe you, Gil, said Lauren earnestly. Everything Ive seen and heard so far tells me Im probably going to get my heart broken, but- she sighed heavily and ducked her head in order to settle her hat back in place -you have to understand, if it was my money I was spending She looked up again, and this time injected wistfulness into her smile. But unfortunately, its not up to me. Im just the agent for the Parish family-I thought you understood that. Im authorized to go only so high, and if your asking price is beyond my limit, well, much as I hate to think Ive come all this way for nothing, theres just no point in taking it any further. Sorry to have bothered you, Mr. McCullough. Maybe we can do business another time. She tilted her head in a little nod of farewell, then pivoted and began to walk away, hips swaying, fingertips tucked in the pockets of her jeans, head down, watching her boots scuff through the dust. A picture of dejection, with a tinge of sex appeal.
Shed gone maybe five steps-which was a couple more than shed estimated it would take-when McCullough fell into step beside her and draped a fatherly arm across her shoulders. She halted instantly, and he took the arm away when she turned.
Ah, hell, he said, and appealed briefly to the cloudless sky as if for guidance, his squint perplexed. You know what, Id really hate for you to come all the way from Texas for nothing. What you and me need to do is sit down somewhere, have us a cold beer and a nice dinner, and talk. What do you say?
Well, I-
Tell you what. His hand was on her shoulder again, his head lowered close to hers. Right now Ive got to go find my heeler-sounds like theyve started in on the steer wrestlin, and that means team ropins comin up next. But why dont we-
You rope? Lauren was surprised; she hadnt taken him for the working type.
McCullough winked, showing those teeth again. I like to keep my hand in now and then. He reached out to waylay a cowboy with a contestants number on his back coming from the direction of the arena. Hey, Dub, seen Bronco anywhere?
The cowboy jerked a thumb over his shoulder. Last I seen he was over at the stock pens.
McCullough laughed. Talkin the steers into lettin him rope em, I imagine.
Bronco, said Lauren, when the cowboy had shared the joke and the laughter and moved on. Is that the same one I just saw up on a bareback bronc?
Thats the one.
Lauren smiled as McCullough walked her on, his arm friendly across her shoulders. Does he rope as well as he rides?
Honey, the rancher drawled, anything involving a horse, theres nobody in this world better. Tell you what, he added more briskly, giving her a quick squeeze before releasing her, why dont you meet me for dinner tonight? A lot of the rodeo crowd, they like to get together evenings at Smoky Joes-know where it is? Cant miss it-just out side of town on the highway. Youll hear it before you see it. Bout eight oclock? Good-well see you there.
And he left her to go angling off toward the livestock pens with that curiously military stride, now and then nodding to acquaintances as he moved through the crowd.
Left behind, Lauren exhaled in an exasperated gust. Then she shrugged and glanced at her watch. Maybe shed stick around and watch the team-roping before heading back into town. After that shed see about checking into a motel, maybe catch up on the sleep shed missed last night before it was time to put on her war paint and strap on her armor and head for the showdown with McCullough.