Captive Bride Read Free

land reached deep inside her. She much preferred this vast place to the crowded streets of New York or Philadelphia.
    In about an hour, his words proved true. Dark clouds scudded ominously across the mountain peaks. The wind blustered around them, sending the horses skittering and kicking up whirlwinds of dust that grated against her fevered skin. He reined in beside her, pulled his kerchief up over his nose and mouth, then pulled a second kerchief from his saddlebag and handed it to her. She tied it over the lower half of her face.
    He pointed at a dark shadow about halfway up the cliff. “Head in that direction.” He leaned over and slapped her horse on its rump. The animal bolted forward like it had been shot out a cannon.
    ****
    As Davy Larson followed his captive, he knew he was in for trouble. Not just from the law and Sam O’Sullivan for kidnapping his daughter, but from the feelings this black-haired beauty awakened in him. Since the first moment he’d seen Abigail riding her horse into town, long raven tresses flowing in the wind and a wide smile of pure enjoyment on her ruby lips, he’d been in love with her. From a distance. She’d never look at someone like him seriously. They lived in different worlds. That’d been four years ago, and he still felt the same.
    Even though she didn’t know his name.
    Earlier when she’d asked if she knew him, he’d found himself hoping she remembered their brief encounters that one summer. He’d been fishing in a mountain stream when she’d ridden up. She hadn’t been afraid of him one bit, just dismounted and asked if he’d had any luck. He’d even showed her how to fish with just a line, as his grandmother had taught him. She’d come back several times in the next few weeks. He remembered it like it was yesterday.
    It hurt that she didn’t.
    As they neared the cave, big fat drops of rain pelted them. In seconds, they were both drenched to the bone. Ahead, Abby hunched low over her horse’s mane. He could see her slim frame shaking from the cold. A wave of guilt washed over him. Dammit! He hadn’t expected to feel any remorse. The emotion surprised him. He hardened his heart. He’d thought about it and thought about it, and this was the only way. Take something O’Sullivan and Winston cherished, as the Irishman and slick lawyer had taken it from his father. He would have his revenge.
    A soft kick to his horse’s flanks sent the animal flying past Abby. He motioned for her to follow. He led the way up the rocky incline toward the cave. When they neared the entrance, he slid from the saddle and hit the ground on a run, digging in his heels to keep from falling. A slap of his hand sent his mount into the cave. He whirled and grabbed the reins of Abby’s horse. As the animal slowed, she toppled from the saddle and into his arms. A crack of thunder sent him scurrying into the cave.
    She weighed nothing. Her body trembled violently. Whether it was from fear or the cold, he didn’t know, but he had to get her warmed up pronto . He’d left supplies here two days ago. He sat her on a large, flat rock and hurried to fetch a blanket. He wrapped it around her shoulders. He hunched beside his old campfire and added dried twigs to the ashes. Soon, flames lit the dark cavern.
    “Stand up.” He squatted in front of her.
    “No, no, can’t.”
    He grabbed her arms and pulled her to her feet. “Take your dress off.”
    His words sparked life into her. Her blue eyes darkened. “No. I won’t.”
    “You take it off, or I’ll do it for you.” He stepped closer.
    “You wouldn’t dare! My father—”
    “Isn’t here. Now take off the dress.”
    She backed up. “What are you going to do?”
    While Davy really wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her until she was warmed from head to toe, and then kiss every other part of her, he merely shook his head. “Don’t worry. I’d rather lay with a she-wolf than an O’Sullivan.”
    Her eyes widened, and she lifted her