Leaning back, Win let his gaze rest on Kora. She was looking out the window, her hair catching the morning sun. He opened and closed his fingers, wishing he could touch her. All through the night he’d been fighting his way to Kora, reaching for her, trying to hold her. But the wind kept whirling her around, blowing her away from him.

Logan offered him another drink.

This time Win closed his hand around the cup so it wouldn’t be pulled away.

The old man laughed. ‘‘He’s going to be fine. He’s fighting me for the water.’’

Slowly the room came into focus. It was late morning, maybe early afternoon. For some reason he was still in bed.

As Win’s mind cleared, he looked down at his arms, bandaged in several places. Without inspection he could feel bandages on his legs, also. ‘‘What happened?’’ he mumbled. ‘‘The last thing I remember I was pulling a cow out of the mud.’’

Winter closed his eyes. Memory came back in flashes, like stills flipping through a stereoscope. Three men offering help. The ropes. The snakes. The ride home. The

blackness.

Logan interrupted Win’s thoughts. ‘‘Three men brought you back snake bit.’’

‘‘I was-’’

‘‘We know,’’ Logan said. ‘‘It wasn’t an accident.’’

‘‘Kora.’’ Win tried not to let his frustration show that she hadn’t even bothered to turn from the window.

Slowly she twisted. It took a moment for Win to take in the woman before him. It wasn’t Kora, it was Jamie, and tears were streaming down her face.

‘‘I’m sorry, Win!’’ Jamie cried. ‘‘I wish it were me and not her.’’

‘‘Kora,’’ he whispered and let the black of sleep melt over him once more.

Logan looked across the bed at Cheyenne. ‘‘What do we do?’’

‘‘We save the ranch. If they’re planning to move the cattle tonight, we must have every hand in the saddle and well armed. Kora’s kidnappers will find us, we don’t have to go looking for them. I’m surprised we haven’t had word yet of the terms. Until we do, we think of the ranch.’’

‘‘No!’’ Jamie cried. ‘‘We save my sister.’’

Cheyenne shook his head. ‘‘The ranch has always been the most important thing in Win’s life. We have no idea where she is. We can’t have men everywhere looking for her. We’ve got to save the ranch.’’

‘‘But whoever has her might hurt her.’’

‘‘If infected cattle cross this land, thousands of head are going to die and that will hurt a lot of people. Win can bury his dead beef and burn the grassland and survive, but it will spread to the smaller ranches. It could mean their farms and ranches being bankrupted. Families having to move or going hungry.’’

Jamie ran to the stairs. ‘‘Then I’ll find her myself. She must be near crazy with fright by now. She’s always had me around, you know.’’

Cheyenne was a step behind her. He grabbed her by the arm. ‘‘You don’t understand. Someone has to stay here and guard the ranch, look after Winter. At least until the doc gets here.’’

Jamie jerked free of his grasp. ‘‘No, you don’t understand. Someone has to find my sister!’’

• • •

Kora sat at the table, trying not to breathe. The smell of dirt was so thick in the air she could almost feel it coating her lungs each time she inhaled. Closing her eyes, she tried to picture her bedroom with Win, the clean air, the sunlight, the warmth of his arms about her.

Andrew Adams rattled around the kitchen area, tossing empty cans aside that he hadn’t bothered to throw out.

She knew she should probably be afraid of him, but all she felt was angry and irritated. ‘‘Untie me!’’ she demanded.

‘‘Shut up!’’ Andrew Adams yelled back. ‘‘I have to think.’’ He pulled a bottle from the empty flour can.

They’d been in the tiny dugout for a long while. She wasn’t sure of the time. He’d tied her hands and gagged her before tossing her in the wagon loaded down with hay and old blankets. As soon as he’d gotten her to the dugout, he’d sat her in the only unbroken chair. She guessed that he’d never thought of the kidnapping succeeding, for he seemed to have no plan of what to do with her now that she was here in his home.

‘‘Let me go,’’ she tried for the hundreth time. ‘‘You’ll only get in trouble with the law for kidnapping. If you let me go, I won’t tell anyone.’’

Andrew Adams drank his nervousness away while he packed his things. At first he’d been so flustered he’d ignored all her requests, but now he was willing to talk to her. ‘‘They don’t arrest a man for taking his own wife. I only took what was mine. I didn’t do nothing wrong.’’

‘‘I’m not your wife.’’

He downed another swallow and moved toward her. ‘‘Maybe you think you’re not because the high-and-mighty Win McQuillen paid what you took from me. Or maybe because the lawyer in town said the proxy’s no good. But the way I figure it, you owe me. I wouldn’t have headed to Bryan and been shot if I hadn’t thought I was going after a wife. All I came back with was a bag of hurt and a woman who hadn’t even stayed for my funeral.’’

‘‘But I wasn’t the one you came for.’’ Kora pulled at her ropes.

‘‘No, but you was the one who signed the paper.’’ Andrew Adams took another drink. ‘‘So I figure that makes you my wife.’’

He moved across the room and squeezed her shoulder. ‘‘You ain’t much in size. I like my women a little fluffier, but I guess you’ll do. I had me a wife once several years ago. Ever’thing was good for me then. So I figured it was time for me to start over. A woman in the house gives a man something to come home to.’’

Kora could see his eyes darken in hope. ‘‘Win will kill you for taking me,’’ she whispered. ‘‘I’m his wife.’’

‘‘McQuillen’s already dead.’’ Andrew looked sorry for her as he sat at the table across from her. ‘‘So you might as well live with the fact. Men don’t survive six snakebites. I was at the settlement, and the minute I heard it, I headed over and hid out in the dark. I’ve made enough deliveries to that place to find my way drunk or sober.’’

He took another drink. ‘‘I figured while everyone was waiting for him to pass on, I’d just wait for you to come out. Then I’d snatch you up and bring you home where you belong. After the funeral, we’ll move back into that big house. Since the law thinks you’re his bride, you’ll get everything. By the time he’s cold, you’ll be mine in the eyes of the Lord. I can promise you that.’’

Kora pulled at the ropes. ‘‘He’s not dead.’’

Andrew wasn’t listening. ‘‘We need a better place to hide until you come to your senses. I wouldn’t want anyone finding us until you wise up. You liked me enough once to marry me. I figure it’ll just be a matter of time until you do again.’’

‘‘Let me go!’’ Kora screamed, her patience at an end. The man was insane if he thought time would change anything. ‘‘I’m not, nor will I ever be, your wife!’’

Andrew gulped a long swallow of whiskey. He leaned across the table and slapped her hard.

Kora felt her ears ring and her eyes blur.

‘‘I didn’t want to do that,’’ he said almost in tears, ‘‘but you got to come to your senses and realize you still belong to me.’’

She could feel his whiskey breath only inches away as his hand doubled back and struck her again.

‘‘You got to see the facts, girl,’’ he mumbled as he grabbed his bottle and moved away from her. ‘‘I got to do whatever it takes to make you realize I’m your husband. I got to.’’

Kora was silent as her head rocked forward.

TWENTY-SIX


KORA KNEW IT HAD TO BE MIDAFTERNOON. THE DUGOUT was warm with streams of light shooting through tiny cracks in the roof. Dust danced playfully in the sunbeams, as if nothing was wrong with the world.

No one from Winter’s ranch had come for her. Could it be possible they didn’t know she was missing? Something was delaying them. The range war Win always talked about might have started, or Win may have grown worse. A hundred thoughts came to mind.

Cramps in her legs made her muscles twitch. Her wrists were raw from trying to free her hands. The rope around her waist kept her from breathing deeply, and the wooden back of the chair seemed to be cutting into her spine.

Andrew Adams had finally drunk himself into a deep sleep. He’d wandered over several times during the morning to slap her and then spent time telling her how much he hated doing it. After each cruelty came a sermon. Kora hated the sermons worse than the blows. He mumbled on and on about having parents who’d known right from wrong and that they had finally beat rules into him. Now he saw it as his duty to make her see the error of her ways.

The last time he’d tried to convince her of how important it was for her to listen to him, he’d been so drunk he’d missed when he’d tried to hit her. The action had infuriated him, sending him headlong into a drinking binge.

Since the first slap, Kora remained silent. She knew the only thing he wanted to hear, and he’d have to beat her to death before she’d claim to be his wife. The whiskey changed him into a different man. But whether he was a sober coward or a drunken bully made no difference in her conviction to be free of him.