Josh reloaded his pistol and aimed at his hostage. The once multiarmed sagebrush now raised only three measly branches skyward. He aimed, firing off a trio of rapid shots. Each branch exploded into tiny shards. Staring with satisfaction at the stub of a shrub, he reloaded his pistol again and shoved it into his holster.
Women. His brothers had warned him about their fickle ways. Sam evidently believed the warning more than Micah, since he’d remained unmarried.
Josh glanced over at the pretty gray mare he’d lassoed out of a herd of mustangs. The moment he saw her, he knew she was the horse for Rachel. After four days of intense workouts, she now let him handle and lead her without a fight. She had spunk and spirit, but she had the wisdom to know when to give in and accept her fate. If only Rachel had the same good sense.
After the initial sting of her rejection had worn off, Josh realized in his heart that she didn’t mean what she’d said about trading kisses for clothes, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why she’d say something like that.
Talking with Ian had helped. He’d reinforced the fact that Rachel had always wished for a big family, but instead, it had only been the three of them until her father had been killed. Ian was the only family Rachel had left. How could he expect her to choose between her grandpa and him? There had to be a way to work things out. Josh knew in his heart that Rachel was the woman he wanted to marry; he just had to make her see it, too.
For the third time since noon, Josh sank to his knees. Come on, Lord, show me how to convince Rachel that I love her. Better yet, would You show her that we’re supposed to be together? I know You’ve spoken to me; please speak to her.
The next day, he rose before sunrise and left camp so that he’d be home in time for breakfast. After four days out in the wild, eating beef jerky and rabbit, Josh was ready for something more substantial. Food was strong on his mind, but thoughts of Rachel were stronger. Would she be happy to see him again? Did she miss him? Eager to see her again, he nudged Sultan into a gallop.
The moment Josh rode into the ranch yard, he knew something was wrong. People scurried around, and six horses loaded with overnight gear and weapons were saddled and tied to the front porch railing. The four Testament boys rode up as he reined Sultan to a stop.
“Josh! Thank God, you’re back.” Grandma hurried down the porch steps and rushed toward him.
He leaped off his horse and tightened his hold on the gray mare’s lead rope. “Whoa, girl,” he murmured when he saw the whites of her eyes.
“Hold on, Grandma. Don’t come any closer ’til I get this mare in the corral. She’s not used to all this commotion.” He turned toward the corral. Grandma snagged up the reins of Josh’s stallion and led him along. “So what’s going on?”
“The girls are missing.”
He glanced toward her, and his steps faltered. “What girls?”
“All three of them.”
He stopped walking and turned to face her, still not clear who she meant.
“Josh, yesterday morning Lou, Deborah, and Rachel took the buckboard into town, and they’re still not back. The men searched for them yesterday evening but came home once the sun set. They’re eating breakfast then heading back out.”
“Rachel’s missing, too?”
Grandma nodded. Josh felt like he’d been shot. He tightened his grip on the lead rope and broke into a jog. Grandma handed Sultan over to one of the hands.
“Shorty,” Josh hollered, “get me a fresh mount—a fast one.” Shorty nodded and led Sultan into the barn.
Josh hustled over to Grandma, who was heading back toward the house. “Any idea what happened to them?”
“No.” The grave expression on her face startled him. Grandma Stafford was the cornerstone of his family, and her feathers rarely got ruffled.
She stopped mid-step and turned to face him. “Josh, what happened between you and Rachel? She’s been moping around here like a calf that lost its mother. Poor thing’s been miserable. The only time since you’ve been gone that she perked up was yesterday before the girls headed to town to shop. They were all excited about helping Deborah find some baby clothes and fabric.”
Josh wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Just a big misunderstanding. I’ll clear things up when I find her.”
She smiled. “I know that a woman can be perplexing. You just have to give her a lot of love and be patient and understanding.”
“I know, Grandma. I’m learning. Come on now.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “I need to grab some breakfast so I can head out with the rest of the men.”
Rachel woke up, chilled and sore. The tiny bedroom they’d been locked in overnight had only a small cot, which she and Lou insisted Deborah use. Rachel stretched then eased to her feet. Sometime during the night, as she had sat praying, an escape plan began to formulate in her mind.
She stooped down and gave Lou a gentle push on her shoulder. “Lou, wake up.”
She swatted Rachel’s hand. “Let me sleep a bit longer, Trent.” Lou turned over onto her side.
Rachel shoved her a bit harder and whispered, “Lou! Come on; wake up. I have a plan.”
Lou bolted upright. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she yawned. “What sort of plan?”
Rachel nodded. “You know the medical supplies we got at the town store? Didn’t we get some sleeping powder?”
Lou looked deep in thought, as if she were checking down her shopping list, and then she nodded. A slow smile tilted her lips; Rachel could see the moment she caught hold of the plan. “We could put it in their food.”
Rachel nodded and grinned for the first time since their captivity. “Biscuits and gravy, à la sleeping powder?”
A scuffling sounded on the other side of the door, and then the lock clicked. The door creaked on its rusty hinges, and Cyrus Lawton appeared in the doorway. Both women jumped to their feet. “Well, princess, looks like it’s time for you and me to head out.”
Fear tugged at Rachel’s heart, and she turned to face Lou. Deborah roused in her sleep but didn’t awaken.
“What do you want with my friend?” Lou asked, rising to her full height.
Lawton leered at Rachel. She cringed as his eyes ran the length of her body. “I’ve watched her for months around Dodge. She’d never give me the time of day, then I caught her alone in her pa’s barbershop. We’da had a good time if her pa hadn’t interrupted and got hisself killed. Looks like I won the prize, though.” He grinned with satisfaction, stroked his beard, then reached out and grabbed Rachel’s upper arm. “Time to leave, princess.”
“B–but what about breakfast?” Rachel asked. “Surely we could eat first. I make real good biscuits, and Deborah can’t travel without eating. She’ll get sick.”
“They ain’t comin’. Just you and me.” Cyrus flashed her an evil grin then spat on the floor. “But I reckon we could wait and eat first. Didn’t have much supper last night.”
With a sigh of relief, Rachel nodded. “I’ll need to get some supplies out of the wagon.”
“Okay, but just you. Them other two can stay here.” Cyrus waved his pistol at Lou and Deborah, who had just awakened. He pulled Rachel out of the bedroom into the cabin’s main room. As the door closed, she locked gazes with Lou. Pray, she mouthed. Cyrus latched the door and locked it.
“Don’t try any funny stuff, or you’ll be wishin’ you hadn’t.” His long, jagged fingernails bit into Rachel’s arm. She clenched her jaw to keep from crying out. “Fix that breakfast, and make it fast. We’ve got a ways to ride.”
Rachel didn’t ask where he was taking her. She didn’t want to know. Cyrus pulled her outside the small cabin and toward the buckboard loaded with supplies from town. Birds chirped cheerful tunes, blissfully unaware of the danger she and her friends were in. The morning sun warmed her face, even as her prayers warmed her spirit and gave her hope. Cyrus stopped at the back of the wagon, flipped up the canvas flap, and released her. Rachel rubbed her aching arm.
She glanced at the campfire and noticed Cyrus’s cronies were just waking up. If they’d still been asleep, she might have been able to get away from Cyrus somehow and ride for help. She peered over the back of the wagon, realizing she had no idea where she was or which way the ranch was. Rachel heaved a sigh and looked heavenward. Father God, I could sure use Your help right about now.
“Git busy. We ain’t got all day.” Scowling at her, Cyrus shoved her toward the wagon. Rachel banged into the corner of a crate loaded with supplies. She cried out at the sharp stab of pain on the back of her hand. The tender area throbbed as a huge welt puffed up. Down the middle of the welt, blood oozed from a two-inch-long scrape.
Cyrus kicked the boots of one of his men. “Git up and find some firewood.”
Rachel blinked back her tears. She wouldn’t give Cyrus the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt her.