This wasn’t the kind of filth that came from falling in mud or working with animals. It was built-up, ground-in filth that only came with time and neglect. And his sweat wasn’t the clean, healthy smell of a hardworking man, it was the sweat of fear, anger, and desperation.

  She could picture this well-dressed man stepping out of some board meeting and realizing he had to run.

  She knew without his saying a word that he was ruined. The US Marshals were after him, and he couldn’t go where he usually went. The fine restaurants. The elite clubs. His high-priced tailor.

  He couldn’t even go home to his ranch.

  Benteen shook her hard, like a wolf shakes a rat to kill it. His grip hadn’t loosened one whit on her shoulder or her mouth.

  She wouldn’t win like this. The fight went out of her. Or at least the fight of her hands. She still had her mind.

  Benteen leaned close enough that his nose almost touched hers over his smothering hand. She smelled his foul breath. But under all of the filth and stench, she saw fury.

  “Are you going to be quiet?” His voice was little more than a growl. He had her head pushed back until her neck was bowed and her spine twisted.

  She nodded to the extent his painfully tight grip on her mouth would allow.

  She didn’t mean it. She’d scream her head off given a chance, but the man seemed to think she’d keep her word, even while he was attacking her. Or maybe he just thought he had her in his power and could keep her quiet even with this small amount of freedom.

  Maybe he was right.

  He slowly lessened the pressure on her mouth. She remained silent. He watched too closely. She’d get one chance to scream, maybe a chance to fight or run. She had to pick the right moment and make it count.

  Her voice broke in her bone-dry throat, and her words were little more than a whisper. “What are you doing here?”

  “You’re mine.” His voice was little more than a growl. He seemed more animal than man. “I paid good money for you.”

  She swallowed to wet her throat, then said, “Whatever deal you made with Edgar has nothing to do with me.”

  “Oh, that’s where you’re wrong. It has everything to do with you. You’re coming with me.”

  The very thought wrenched her stomach until she feared she’d lose the food in her belly. “I’m a married woman. Taking me gains you nothing.”

  He grabbed the front of her dark blue shirtwaist and dragged her onto her toes. He was a big man, tall and good-looking when hate wasn’t warping him from the soul out. He tightened his fist on her dress until she could hardly breathe. It silenced her as effectively as his hand over her mouth.

  She looked into those crazed eyes. This was a man who used to have everything. All she could see was want. Hunger. He never stopped wanting more. And suddenly she knew what the Bible meant when it said the love of money was the root of all evil. Because this man loved money above God. He loved power above God. He loved his hate above God.

  Loving hate. Strange thought, but with Horace, the truth of it struck hard.

  Loving anything above God was the root of evil. And Benteen had made a religion of his desire for more.

  Michelle prayed as the thoughts flooded through her. She turned to God and knew that if she died today, she’d be with her heavenly Father. And if Benteen died, he’d be separated from God for all eternity.

  Quietly, barely able to whisper, she said, “Horace, what has happened to you? You’ve always been a hard man, but have you so completely lost your grasp on reality that you think you can grab an innocent woman, threaten me, and take me away from my husband? Do you think the law will step aside while you do such a thing? Your son is already locked up for that. Your power and money couldn’t stop it. If you harm me or take me, no amount of money or power will protect you.”

  She reached up and rested her left hand on his right where it choked her.

  “You had everything.” His grip wavered as she touched his hand, and she drew in a deep breath. “And you’ve squandered all you had over some sick desire for a woman you don’t love, don’t even care about. A woman who is very much in love with her husband. You need to face the ugliness inside you and recognize the sin. You need forgiveness and repentance. You need to accept God and turn from this horrid path.”

  Red veins arched in jagged lines across the whites of his eyes. His fist tightened. Michelle had to fight for every breath.

  As she prayed, she accepted that this very day she might stand at the feet of her Savior. As she began to feel light-headed from lack of air, she became aware of the running water behind her. The spinning waterwheel.

  A noise that had gone on steadily this whole time. But suddenly the noise breached her fear. She looked at her hand, resting on his wrist, and saw the dangling sleeve. With a sudden shift of her grip, she grabbed the torn fabric, tugged it behind her, and let the waterwheel catch it. The cloth wound around the center axle of the waterwheel and jerked Benteen’s hand straight into the paddles, then wrenched it tight.

  Benteen screamed. The wheel stopped.

  He let her go and grabbed for his wrist just as the door behind him banged open.

  Zane was shouting before he got inside. “Michelle! We found a horse with Benteen’s brand—”

  Michelle jumped away from Benteen and charged for Zane.

  Zane had his gun drawn but quickly holstered it and pulled her into his arms.

  Benteen’s screams were so loud he might not have heard Zane shouting his warning.

  Shad, just a pace behind him, stopped, then strolled over to Benteen and studied the man, who was screaming terrible, ugly words, his hand held tightly in the waterwheel.

  Jilly came up fast with Neb armed and ready just behind her. Neb was white haired and stocky but as tough as any Western man.

  “So, no hurry, but maybe we should turn this thing off?” Shad turned from Benteen and arched his brows at Michelle. Still shaking, she studied the situation and thought Shad was probably right.

  With one last hug for Zane, she headed for the valve she’d opened to let the water flow. With a quick adjustment, the water shut off. Shad tugged on Benteen, which made him scream louder. He was well and truly stuck.

  Zane had a firm grip on Benteen’s free arm, but the man wasn’t doing any damage, except to himself.

  Michelle had to do some work to get the waterwheel to ease its pressure. Benteen’s arm was bent at a dreadful angle, though the skin wasn’t broken.

  Thinking of the surgery she’d performed on Annie’s husband, Michelle decided her career as a doctor was done.

  Benteen could just ride to town like that.

  Shad dragged Benteen, still mewling with pain and spewing profanity, out of the workshop.

  Michelle threw herself back into her husband’s arms.

  “Michelle, did he harm you? Are you all right?”

  Neb followed Shad, his gun still drawn.

  Hugging Zane, loving him for the concern in his voice, listening to Benteen’s fading filthy language, Michelle said, “I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me. But he threatened to take me away from here.”

  She looked up at Zane. “Away from you.”

  Zane leaned down and kissed her. “So you fed his arm into that waterwheel?”

  Jilly rolled her eyes at the kiss and Zane’s question. “I’m going to go tell Annie and Beth Ellen what happened. To the extent I know.”

  Jilly wandered off to leave Michelle alone with Zane.

  Michelle shrugged. “I tried to reason with him first. I was preaching to him. Telling him he needed to admit he was a terrible sinner and repent.”

  “Have any luck?” Zane asked as Benteen’s vile language continued even from a distance.

  “What I had was inspiration. God made me hear a sound that had been going on all along. Suddenly, that waterwheel, turning behind me, was loud. Benteen’s sleeve was torn and dangling. I grabbed the fabric and shoved it into the waterwheel, and it sucked him right in. I believe it was a heavenly message.”

  Zane wrapped both arms around her, lowered his head, and kissed her again. Longer this time. Deeper.

  When the kiss ended, Michelle said, “When I was talking to Benteen, one of the things I said to him was that I had a husband, and I was in love with him.”

  Their eyes met. Silence stretched between them.

  “And did you mean it?”

  “I meant every word.”

  And this kiss lasted until Shad came and pounded on the workshop door to tell them he had their horses saddled.

  “I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU WON’T MARRY JILLY.” Laura jammed her fists on her waist and glared at Nick. They were back in the mountain mansion. The worst of Edgar’s henchmen were fired, including that dreadful cook.

  They’d hired more men, including a few to guard the house.

  The logging business was running well.

  But their troubles wouldn’t be over until Jilly was safely married.

  Nick, who still spent most of his time around the house, not satisfied that anyone could guard Mama as well as he could, blinked those odd eyes at her. The three of them sat at the breakfast table. Mama had gone to the office to work on the account books.

  “Uh, because, uh, well . . .” His face had a helpless look on it as he searched for words. “I don’t know her. Don’t love her. And . . . uh, don’t want to.”

  Laura didn’t think those were good enough reasons.

  “Caleb barely knew me, hadn’t begun to love me.”

  Caleb said quietly, “I’d begun to love you.”

  “And honestly probably didn’t want to.”

  “I wanted to marry you something fierce. Having known you for less than a month, I had my doubts that it was what God wanted. But, oh yes, I wanted to marry you.”

  Laura’s eyes narrowed as she considered what they said. She knew her thinking went on for an uncomfortably long time, but the men remained quiet, giving her time. They’d gotten used to this. They’d gotten to know her.

  “She needs a husband, and you might not know her, but you know Mama. Wouldn’t you like to have her for your own mama?”

  Nick studied Laura. She realized this tough man, devoted to protecting Mama above all else, was smart. Not as educated as she was but plenty smart. Now he looked at her with kindness, maybe even pity.

  “We’ll make sure everyone is safe,” Nick said. “Your mama, Jilly, you, everyone. Don’t carry around this fear, Laura. Do your best to hand it over to God.” He took a drink of his coffee, then wiped his mouth on a snow white napkin that lay beside his plate.

  He looked at Caleb and solemnly said, “You need to pray with her more. Help her to ease this burden of fear she bears.”

  Caleb took Laura’s hand and tugged until she looked at him.

  He smiled.

  She couldn’t help smiling back. “You wanted to something fierce, huh?”

  “I absolutely did.”

  “Do you think we should bring Jilly back here? Is she safer here than at the ranch, now that everyone knows she’s hiding there?”

  Caleb lifted one shoulder. “I know Jilly well enough to be sure no one’s going to bring her anywhere.”

  “I have to give you that.”

  “And,” Nick said, “no one’s going to marry her without her full permission and cooperation.”

  Laura studied him again. “You could try to convince her.”

  Nick politely stood from the table. “I’m going to go try to convince Old Tom to teach me about running a logging camp.”

  Old Tom already taught Nick all day, every day. When he could get Nick away from guarding Mama.

  Laura sniffed. Caleb laughed. Nick left.

  “OUR TROUBLES AREN’T OVER until Jilly gets married and Mama makes sure Edgar isn’t able to harm her,” Michelle said. “But we’ve come a long way.”

  Nodding, Zane said, “Do you think we can get Josh to marry Jilly?”

  They were riding to town with their moaning, wounded prisoner in tow.

  Michelle and Zane in front. Shad and Neb behind with Horace between them. Someone had put his arm in a sling, but it sure hadn’t been Michelle.

  Michelle had preferred to get back to work, but Zane convinced her the sheriff would want her to stand as witness to all Horace had said and done.

  It probably wasn’t true. Horace was a wanted man, after all. But Zane couldn’t stand to be separated from her right now. When he thought of her being in Benteen’s clutches, alone, helpless, he nearly started to howl with anger.

  Well, not quite helpless as it turned out.

  “No,” Michelle said.

  “Why not? He’s right here handy.”

  Michelle gave him a strange look that told him her thoughts toward his brother might be ones he didn’t want to hear. Unfortunately, they probably followed along with his own thoughts.

  His brother did tend to bore everyone senseless.

  Jilly, bright and energetic and fascinated by most everything, tended to wander off when Josh started in on his stories.

  And since his stories were of exotic places and far distant lands, wicked weather at sea and dastardly pirates . . . it wasn’t that easy to bore everyone into going to bed just to escape him.

  Josh could manage it with no trouble at all.

  Zane rode up close to her as they walked their horses toward Dorada Rio. He reached across the space separating them. She took his hand, and they rode along in harmony.

  “When you told me you loved me, I didn’t say it back.”

  Michelle turned to him, her hand tightening on his. “Can you say it now?”

  That got a smile out of him when he was feeling mighty solemn.

  “When I saw a Benteen brand on that horse, well, it could have been someone he sent, but I knew it was him. I was in a flat-out terror racing to you. All I could think was that if I lost you, that would mean I’d lost the love of my life. The fear told me more than anything that I loved you. I reckon I have almost from the start. I feel blessed by a loving God to have ended up married to a precious, brilliant, strong woman. You saved yourself, and knowing you can do that gives me peace. Yes, Michelle. I love you.”

  And they rode along to town to put one of their biggest troubles behind them, knowing that whatever came, they’d face it together.

  About the Author

  Mary Connealy writes romantic comedies about cowboys. She’s the author of the BROTHERS IN ARMS, BRIDES OF HOPE MOUNTAIN, HIGH SIERRA SWEETHEARTS, KINCAID BRIDES, TROUBLE IN TEXAS, WILD AT HEART, and CIMARRON LEGACY series, as well as several other acclaimed series. Mary has been nominated for a Christy Award, was a finalist for a RITA Award, and is a two-time winner of the Carol Award. She lives on a ranch in eastern Nebraska with her very own romantic cowboy hero. They have four grown daughters—Joslyn, married to Matt; Wendy; Shelly, married to Aaron; and Katy, married to Max—and six precious grandchildren. Learn more about Mary and her books at

  maryconnealy.com

  facebook.com/maryconnealy

  seekerville.blogspot.com

  petticoatsandpistols.com

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  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Half Title Page

  Books by Mary Connealy

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  About the Author

  Back Ads

  Back Cover

  List of Pages

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