The man wrapped his hand around her upper arm and she found herself being dragged toward the decrepit way station. A bolt of lightning streaked across the clouded sky, illuminating the ground below. In the brief, flickering light, Hope glanced back and gained her first true glance of her captor.
“You!” swallowing hard, she tried to keep the scream that lodged in her throat from spilling over her lips. A breathless gasp escaped her, as the door was thrown open wide and she was brusquely shoved into the shack’s stuffy interior.
Reluctantly, Drake reined the horse in and guided it to the river’s edge. Though he would rather have pushed on, the stallion’s sides were starting to heave and a fine lather was coating the silky flesh beneath his knees. If he didn’t stop now, he wouldn’t have a mount to ride.
Swinging off the saddle, he looped the reins over the powerful neck. The mustang dipped his nose in the cool, flowing water and, kneeling on the bank, Drake did the same.
Twice, he plunged his head into the icy depths. The flesh on his neck prickled with the water’s chill as he came up gasping. Trickles of moisture poured down his chest and back. The wetness mixed with the sweat coating his body to turn the trail dust embedded inside his clothes to an itchy paste.
Swiping the dripping hair from his brow, he glanced up at the sky. Dawn was still hours away, and until the sun broke free of the midnight sky, he would have to keep stopping to make sure he was still following the same tracks. He’d wasted precious time doing that, but it couldn’t be helped. The sooner he found Hope, the better. He wouldn’t wait until daylight and risk Tubbs hurting her—or worse—before he could reach her.
The thought of Tubbs’ greasy hands anywhere on Hope’s body sent a bolt of rage shooting through Drake’s blood. He’d rip the man to shreds with his bare hands if he found the bastard had so much as bruised Hope’s little finger. As it was, he thought he’d have a hard time not killing Tubbs for having taken her in the first place.
He grabbed the hat he’d carelessly tossed aside and crammed it on his still-wet head. Tubbs! How the hell had the bastard found them? Drake had purposely avoided taking a ship from San Francisco, knowing that to be the first place Tubbs would look. And he hadn’t wired ahead to Boston, suspecting that Tubbs would have hired no-good thugs like himself to watch the depots and trading posts.
So how had he found them? And why had he taken Hope!?
With a ragged curse, he grabbed the reins and pulled the horse’s nose from the water. In one lithe motion he’d swung into the saddle and kicked the horse on. The clouds in the sky were darkening, and the first drops of rain splattered the top of his hat and his bare forearms. Soon, it would be coming down in sheets, washing away the tracks. If that happened, he’d never find Hope.
Swallowing past a sudden lump in his throat, he spurred the horse on. The tired stallion grunted in protest. Drake felt a momentary pang of guilt. He’d never ridden a horse so hard. But then, he’d never had a reason to charge through the night as though demons were biting at his heels. He hoped to God he never would again.
“So you remember me, do you?” Tyrone Tubbs asked sarcastically, as another bolt of lightning shot through the sky. “I was wondering how long it would take.”
Hope chafed the flesh prickling on her forearms. “Did you think I’d forget someone who tried to steal my gold?”
Although she couldn’t see his face, she could feel his anger. “Steal!? Funny, the way I remember it, you were just itching to give those little nuggets to the first man who’d lead you to Drake Frazier. Standing in my shoes, you owe me big for making me look like a fool in front of my friends.”
Hope stared incredulously into the darkness. She winced when the gun barrel jabbed her ribs. “Is that what this is all about? You followed us to God knows where and kidnapped me just because you think I made a fool out of you? Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, sweet thing,” he snarled. “If I’d wanted to get back at you that bad, I could have done it in Thirsty Gulch. Lord knows, I had plenty of opportunity.”
She shivered as his tone took on a whole new, sinister air. “I don’t understand. Why else would you—”
“Definitely not for you. Tempting though you seem to think you are, you’re just an added bonus. Frazier’s the one I’m after, and you’re the one who’s going to get him here for me. This time, I’m not leaving anything to chance.”
Hope could have laughed at the irony of it all. Could anything be farther from the truth? Lord, it would be more likely that the gunslinger would get down on his hands and knees and thank his lucky stars she was gone, out of his hair for good.
“You think Drake’s going to come for me?” she scoffed. “Think again, Tinks, Tudd, or whatever the hell your name is. He won’t come. He has better things to do with his time than traipse all over the countryside looking for me.”
“Wanna bet?”
A shuffle of footsteps told Hope he had neared her side. Her gaze flickered between her abductor and the door. The sky chose that moment to deliver another lightning bolt. The indecision in her eyes was painfully obvious in the flickering, white-yellow light.
Again, the pistol was shoved into her wet side. “I wouldn’t try it, sweet thing. My patience with you is already wearing thin. If you’re smart, you won’t push me.”
Lifting her chin high, she dismissed the threat. “What do you want with Frazier, Tinks? Did he make a fool out of you, too? Seems to be a popular pastime these days.”
She gasped as his fingers bit into her upper arm and she was brought up hard against his wet chest. The urge to yank away was strong, but she squashed it, as a rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. Rain sliced at the windowpane. His breath fanned her face and Hope tried not to gag on the rancid stench.
“I told you not to push me. You’d better start listening to what I say, woman, or you’re going to find yourself in the corner, trussed up like a chicken with a gag stuffed down your throat. How does that thought appeal to you?”
Hope’s blood ran cold. She didn’t doubt he possessed the audacity to make good on the threat. That she would allow him to do so without a fight, however, was questionable.
He didn’t wait for an answer as he reached in front of her and grabbed something off the table to her left. The gritty sound of a match being struck was followed by a sudden flare of light. She blinked quickly to adjust her eyes to the unexpected brightness.
“There,” he said, as he set the globeless lamp back in place atop the rickety table, “now I’ll see it if you try to pull anything stupid.”
He ran the tip of his finger down the smooth line of her jaw, and it took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to turn her head and sink her teeth into his flesh. Instead, she pulled back, straining away from the repugnant touch as far as she dared.