bet your ranch on it, Miss Deane.”
“I would bet my ranch on it. I’d stake everything on it. And if you won’t tell me what you’re up to, we can just stand here all day because I’m not going anywhere until you—ohhh!”
Before she realized what was happening, he suddenly seized her and with a low grunt tossed her like a sack of grain over his shoulder.
“What are you doing ? Set me down this minute!”
Ignoring her, he stomped back through the trees toward the stream.
“Set me down! You obnoxious, arrogant, insufferable snake, you stop and set me down right this very minute! I’m perfectly capable of walking! I demand—”
“Shut up.” He ignored her ineffective attempts to land blows upon his broad back and continued to stride past rocks and shrub. “You are by far the most spoiled, insufferable, irritating woman I’ve ever met, and I don’t have either the time or the stomach for your tantrums,” he said grimly. “Now behave yourself, or when we reach the stream, instead of letting you retrieve your bags, I’ll throw you and them into the water.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“Try me.”
Melora stopped struggling. She bit her lower lip furiously and closed her eyes tight as her teeth clacked in her mouth at the jostling movements. She tried very hard to picture Cal dead in a coffin on Boot Hill.
Her demeaning and uncomfortable posture only heightened her already severe loathing for this man. Right now she should be at the church, twirling about in her wedding dress; instead she was stranded in the wild with a pair of no-good saddle tramps and with Cal no-last-name, who was by far the most detestable man ever to breathe air.
Wait. Wait for the right moment, she told herself, her eyes sparking with vengeful designs. Then you’ll show him he can’t do this to Mel Deane and get away with it.
When at last he lowered her down beside her bags, he set her on her feet with a thump that rattled her teeth.
“Hurry up. If you want those bags to come along with you, pick ‘em up and bring ‘em,” Cal instructed coolly.
“Let me close this one first.” Melora flung out the words between gritted teeth, but instead of closing her trunk, she dipped her hand inside in one quick movement, shoved aside her jewelry pouch, and yanked out her derringer.
“Freeze, mister.”
She pointed the gun at his heart. All around them hung an early-morning gray mist. A spray of drizzle dampened Melora’s face as she came slowly to her feet, the gun held steadily, aimed at his chest.
Cal sighed. “Don’t you ever give up?”
“It’s loaded. And I’m an excellent shot.”
“I’ll wager you are.”
“My father taught me himself.” She clicked off the safety deliberately. “Now you’re going to talk and I’m going to listen. And when you’ve explained the reason for this little adventure to me, if I decide not to shoot you, I might just let you live long enough to turn over one of those nice rested horses to me and—”
“Go ahead and shoot,” Cal ordered.
Her smile was thin. “Don’t tempt me.”
To her fury he took a step toward her. “I don’t think you have it in you.”
A taunt. The man was taunting her. Melora kept a lid on her temper with an effort. She had to stay calm, to remain in control. There was a fine sheen of sweat on her upper lip, despite the coolness of the day, but she spoke with utter composure. “Then you’re loco, Cal. Because I’d as soon shoot you as let you go further in this plan to hurt Wyatt.”
She nodded at him, her hands perfectly steady on the gun. “I’ll shoot you to protect myself and him, and it will give me immense pleasure to do it.”
“You’re going to have to prove that.”
And with that he took another step toward her. And another.
Damn him! Melora backed up several steps. She was breathing hard. “Halt!” she commanded as the color fled her cheeks.
He kept advancing.
There was a roaring in her ears. For just an instant her finger
“I would bet my ranch on it. I’d stake everything on it. And if you won’t tell me what you’re up to, we can just stand here all day because I’m not going anywhere until you—ohhh!”
Before she realized what was happening, he suddenly seized her and with a low grunt tossed her like a sack of grain over his shoulder.
“What are you doing ? Set me down this minute!”
Ignoring her, he stomped back through the trees toward the stream.
“Set me down! You obnoxious, arrogant, insufferable snake, you stop and set me down right this very minute! I’m perfectly capable of walking! I demand—”
“Shut up.” He ignored her ineffective attempts to land blows upon his broad back and continued to stride past rocks and shrub. “You are by far the most spoiled, insufferable, irritating woman I’ve ever met, and I don’t have either the time or the stomach for your tantrums,” he said grimly. “Now behave yourself, or when we reach the stream, instead of letting you retrieve your bags, I’ll throw you and them into the water.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“Try me.”
Melora stopped struggling. She bit her lower lip furiously and closed her eyes tight as her teeth clacked in her mouth at the jostling movements. She tried very hard to picture Cal dead in a coffin on Boot Hill.
Her demeaning and uncomfortable posture only heightened her already severe loathing for this man. Right now she should be at the church, twirling about in her wedding dress; instead she was stranded in the wild with a pair of no-good saddle tramps and with Cal no-last-name, who was by far the most detestable man ever to breathe air.
Wait. Wait for the right moment, she told herself, her eyes sparking with vengeful designs. Then you’ll show him he can’t do this to Mel Deane and get away with it.
When at last he lowered her down beside her bags, he set her on her feet with a thump that rattled her teeth.
“Hurry up. If you want those bags to come along with you, pick ‘em up and bring ‘em,” Cal instructed coolly.
“Let me close this one first.” Melora flung out the words between gritted teeth, but instead of closing her trunk, she dipped her hand inside in one quick movement, shoved aside her jewelry pouch, and yanked out her derringer.
“Freeze, mister.”
She pointed the gun at his heart. All around them hung an early-morning gray mist. A spray of drizzle dampened Melora’s face as she came slowly to her feet, the gun held steadily, aimed at his chest.
Cal sighed. “Don’t you ever give up?”
“It’s loaded. And I’m an excellent shot.”
“I’ll wager you are.”
“My father taught me himself.” She clicked off the safety deliberately. “Now you’re going to talk and I’m going to listen. And when you’ve explained the reason for this little adventure to me, if I decide not to shoot you, I might just let you live long enough to turn over one of those nice rested horses to me and—”
“Go ahead and shoot,” Cal ordered.
Her smile was thin. “Don’t tempt me.”
To her fury he took a step toward her. “I don’t think you have it in you.”
A taunt. The man was taunting her. Melora kept a lid on her temper with an effort. She had to stay calm, to remain in control. There was a fine sheen of sweat on her upper lip, despite the coolness of the day, but she spoke with utter composure. “Then you’re loco, Cal. Because I’d as soon shoot you as let you go further in this plan to hurt Wyatt.”
She nodded at him, her hands perfectly steady on the gun. “I’ll shoot you to protect myself and him, and it will give me immense pleasure to do it.”
“You’re going to have to prove that.”
And with that he took another step toward her. And another.
Damn him! Melora backed up several steps. She was breathing hard. “Halt!” she commanded as the color fled her cheeks.
He kept advancing.
There was a roaring in her ears. For just an instant her finger
Similar Books
