He lifted his hand to her cheek, and ran a finger down her throat. He idly stroked a line down to the rise of her breast, and he laughed again at the rage that filled her eyes when he cupped the mound.

"You're thinking that Slater will come and kill me, aren't you? Well, he's going to come. That's why you're here. I'm going to meet him on the road, and then I'm going to kill him. And then I'm going to come back for you. But do you know why you're here in this nice little cove? 'Cause if I die, Miss McCahy, you're going to die, too. He'll never find you. Only the snakes and the buzzards will know where you are. Maybe a rattler will come by. And maybe not. Maybe you'll just bake slowly in the sun…and you'll be glad to die, you'll want water so badly. Then the birds will come down and you know what they like to do first? They like to pluck out eyes…"

He sighed, letting his hand drop. "I'd really like to stay. But—"

He broke off, listening. From somewhere, Shannon could hear the sound of hoofbeats.

Justin's face went dark. "How the hell did he know so damned fast?" he muttered. "Must not have done in that whore properly…" He stared at Shannon. "No matter, darlin'. Don't fret. Don't miss me too much. I will be back."

He rose, clutching his gun, and thrashed his way through the undergrowth. The sound of the hoofbeats was coming closer and closer. Shannon closed her eyes.

Malachi.

He would never abandon her, she thought. No matter how mad she made him, no matter how they fought…

Even if he hated her. He would never abandon her.

But would Malachi be expecting Justin to ambush him? And Justin meant to do just that. Sit in wait to prey upon Malachi, shoot him down in cold blood from the shadows of the bracken on a summer's day.

Malachi was coming closer. Shannon could feel the hoof-beats pounding the earth. There was more than one horse. He wasn't alone. Maybe that was something that Justin hadn't counted on.

She tugged at the ropes that held her, but Justin could tie a secure knot. The more she twisted, the more hopelessly tightly she was bound. Tears stung her eyes. If she could just call out. If she could warn him that it was going to be an ambush.

Willing herself not to panic, not to give up, she twisted her head, biting at the gag. At first, she felt nothing.

Then she felt it loosening.

The sound of hoofbeats had slowed as the riders had en-tered the narrow trail through the forest. Shannon bit desperatley against the material slicing her mouth. There was a give and then a tear. She twisted and spit again. The gag slipped enough for her to draw in a huge gulp of sweet air, and then scream for all she was worth.

"It's a trap, Malachi! Don't come any closer! It's an ambush! Be careful, for the love of God—"

As she screamed, Justin Waller suddenly appeared through the shrubs, and she saw the murderous hatred in his eyes.

"Stupid bitch!" he swore. His palm cracked across cheek so hard that she was dazed.

She felt a little trickle of blood at her lip but that didn't deter him in the least. He stuffed the gag into her mouth and secured it, winding a strip of rawhide tightly around her head. It cut searingly into her mouth, and she could barely breathe, much less issue the softest cry.

He smiled, pleased with his handiwork. "Our time is coming, sweet thing," he promised her.

He jumped to his feet, carelessly holding his repeating rifle. The sound of hoofbeats had ceased. The forest seemed quiet.

"Slater!" Justin screamed.

Shannon took some small pleasure in realizing that she had ruined his original plan. He couldn't possibly ambush anyone. He was the one whose whereabouts were now known.

"Slater, I'm going to shoot her. Right through the head."

She couldn't help the shivering that seized her. Justin Waller would do it. He would shoot a human being just as quickly and easily as he would swat a fly. There would be very little difference to him.

He aimed the rifle at Shannon. She caught her breath, and her heart seemed to cease to beat. She wanted to pray; she wanted to ask God to forgive her all her sins, but she didn't seem to be able to think at all.

Malachi's face filled her thoughts. His slow, cynical smile curling into his lip beneath his mustache. His eyes, bluer than teal, deeper than cobalt, secretive beneath the honey and gold arches of his brows. In those seconds, she imagined his face. And she wished with all her heart that she could see him.

She prayed at last, and she prayed that he not be fooled into giving his life for hers…

The rifle exploded with a loud blast. Dust flew up, blinding Shannon. But she wasn't hit. He had aimed at the ground, right beside her feet. He aimed again, and she quickly closed her eyes as pieces of bark sheared from the tree and flew around at the impact of the explosion. Shannon choked and screamed deep in her throat. More shots exploded against the tree. She almost longed for him to hit her so that the torture of waiting for a bullet would end.

"Come on out, Slater. One of these shots is going to hit her! Or maybe one of them already has. Maybe she's screaming deep, deep down inside, and you can't hear her…but you can hear me. Come on out, Slater, you coward, damn you!"

There was a rustling sound behind them. Justin swung around, shooting at the bushes. Bracken broke and flew, and the earth was spewed up in a rain of dirt. But when the noise died away, there was nothing. Nothing at all.

Justin hunkered down in the dirt, looking anxiously around. The silence was awful. It dragged on forever.

Shannon thought that she might have passed out again. It seemed that she closed her eyes and opened them again, and the sun was falling. The sky was streaked with beautiful, dark colors. Twilight was coming on.

And she was still tied to the tree. Justin was less than ten feet away from her, his rifle over his knee. He still stared out into the bracken as the night fell.

A fly droned around Shannon's face, and landed on her arm. She leaned against the tree, desolate, despairing.

"I think I've killed him. I thought he was out there, but maybe I've killed him," Justin muttered to himself.

He twisted around and looked at Shannon and saw that her eyes were open. Low on the ground, he crawled to her. He reached up with his knife toward her head, and she wondered with horror what he intended to do. She tried not to shrink from him, but she was terrified, and she couldn't help it. He smiled, liking her fear.

But he didn't cut her. He slipped the blade into the rawhide tie that he had bound so tightly around her head. He slid it, and let the scarf gag fall from her face. She inhaled, gulping in air. She would have screamed, but it seemed like such a foolish thing to do. There was probably no one to hear her.

Maybe Malachi was dead. Justin had mowed down half the foliage around him, and sheared away rock and trees. He could easily have hit Malachi. He could be out there anywhere, lying injured, dead, dying…

Justin stretched his length against her body. She didn't kick him and she didn't speak. She stayed still, her head against the tree, and stared at him. He was insane, she decided. Some men would come back from the war and tremble through the night at the memories of the horrors they had seen…of the death they had themselves delivered. But Justin Waller had used the war. He had loved it, reveled in it. It had allowed him to rape and murder freely. And now it seemed that he had learned murder and rape as a way of life.

She would give him no satisfaction, she swore.

"You've nothing to say, sweet thing?" he whispered against her flesh. He touched her cheek and ran his hands down to her breast again. "Our time has come. Your lover is dead, and we have the whole night ahead of us. Your mouth is free. You can scream and scream and scream…"

She gazed at him. "You're pathetic," she said softly.

He grabbed her thigh, pinching it mercilessly. She wasn't going to cry out, but the pain came so fiercely that she did.

"Talk to me nicely, little girl. Talk to me nicely. Tell me that you won't take off again. No more tricks. And maybe, just maybe, if you're good, real, real good, I'll let you live."

She lifted her chin. She ignored his hand upon her thigh, inching up the satin of her gown. "Death might be very simple, Justin," she said.

He started to laugh again. "Yeah, it just might be. But you ain't going to die. Not until I'm through with you." He cupped her chin in a cruel grip and moved his face close to hers.

She managed to twist away. "I will throw up on you," she threatened. "I swear, I will throw up all over you. That drug is heaving up and down inside of me."

He jerked away from her as if he had been burned. He stared at her, and then he chuckled and stroked her chin again. "You are a one, Miss Shannon McCahy. I've waited a long time for a woman the likes of you. A long time."

He leaned toward her again. She prayed that the earth would open up and swallow them whole.

The earth did not open up, but there was suddenly a massive rustling in the bushes near the road. Justin jerked away from her and stood up on the balls of his feet with his rifle ready. Shannon watched him with renewed fear. "Son of a bitch! Sit tight, sweetheart. I'll be back, and we won't waste any more time." He jumped close to the tree, then bent down and disappeared into the low brush.

Shannon strained frantically against the ropes that bound her. Maybe Malachi lived. Maybe he was out there thrashing around, needing help. Justin would hunt him down. He would hunt him down and shoot him between the eyes. Justin Waller might be a raving lunatic, but he had fought with the bushwhackers, and he had learned a lot about guerrilla warfare. He was wiry and athletic. He was an able opponent. Malachi…