barely even spoken to her unless circumstances forced him, and he certainly hadn’t made any advances on her person. Thank goodness! She didn’t know what she would have done if she’d been kidnapped by someone more unmannerly.
In fact, if Sam weren’t her captor, she would have been tempted to say that his rough edges were rather endearing. True, he was overly gruff toward her at times, and perhaps a little too unconcerned about her comfort, but she couldn’t deny that she found his wry humor charming, in its own peculiar way. And his dismissive way of treating her was a bit refreshing, frankly. Most men she knew made perfect fools of themselves trying to be nice to her and treat her as though she were a delicate flower. Not Sam. The moment he tied her to a tree and threw a horse blanket over her, she’d known he was different from all the others.
Millie sighed. Just as she had expected, it would be a little sad to part company with this strange man. And she would be terribly sorry to see him follow his brother to the gallows, as he no doubt would. Perhaps he might even beat Jesse there. Killing two sworn officers of the law topped wife-murdenng any day, in her book. Even so, she couldn’t deny having fallen under Sam Winter’s spell, just a tiny bit.
What woman wouldn’t? He was handsome in a rugged way that she just didn’t run across among the men she knew. And his voice was deep, melodious. And his gray eyes practically lit up when he teased her. And when he touched her, as he had when he lifted her onto Mrs. Darwimple...
Oh, it was hopeless. What was the use of dwelling on details? They might serve her well when she was relating the events of her exciting abduction to Sally, but in the meantime, she was better off not romanticizing the man too much. After all, he’d be as good as dead once she was through with him.
Right now she had to concentrate on the task ahead of her. She couldn’t forget Sam’s threat; alerting the proprietor of the store that she had been kidnapped was going to be no easy task, with a gun trained on her the entire time. She only hoped that the person who owned the store was big and strong—or at least bigger and stronger than Sam.
As they slowed to a walk in front of the low building, she got a better look at the sign. Ned Sparks’ General Store She felt as if her whole future were in Ned Sparks’s hands
Sam eyed her cautiously. “You remember what I said?”
She straightened. “Of course.”
“Good. Get down—and don’t make any fast moves. And don’t talk unless whoever’s inside talks to you first. Understand?”
She gritted her teeth and nodded. Then she slipped off her horse. There was no other way to describe it. She put one leg back and lost her grip on the animal’s slippery hide and shot to the ground with a thud. As she landed, she half expected to hear gunfire, although that particular fast move hadn’t been intended. But instead, Sam appeared beside her and kindly yanked her back up to her feet.
“Sorry,” he said as she dusted her backside off heatedly. “I forgot that your excellent horsemanship might not extend to the fine art of dismounting bareback.”
“Never mind,” she muttered. She wasn’t going to argue with the man now. She needed him to think she was going to do exactly as he wanted. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“You first,” he said, gesturing for her to walk ahead.
With some trepidation, she pushed open the door of the little store. Once she got a look at the dark, dusty place, she was doubly certain that she needed to be rescued soon. She couldn’t imagine them buying anything there that she would actually want to eat.
“Well, hello there!” a voice cried out.
Millie looked around, but could see nothing — nothing besides old warped shelves stacked with dusty cans and jars, barrels full of who knew what, and bolts of mildewy cloth propped up against the walls. Finally, a head peeked over the long counter to her right — an old, wrinkled, bald head.
“You’re Ned Sparks?” Millie couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice. This was the man who was supposed to overcome her kidnapper and rescue her? Not likely! The man was seventy if he was a day — not to mention the fact that he was at least two inches shorter than she was.
Sam’s hand clamped firmly around her arm, a reminder of his don’t-speak-unless-spoken-to rule.
“Sure, I’m Ned,” the man replied genially, plainly not realizing his reply sank Millie’s hopes completely. “How do?”
“Just fine,” Sam said, his manner equally friendly. “We just stopped for a few provisions.”
“Are you the only person here?” Millie asked boldly, ready for gunfire. At this point, she hardly cared. She couldn’t believe her bad luck.
“Sure am, little lady. Would ya’ll be headed east or west?” Ned asked curiously.
“West,” Sam replied.
“Well... I just come from the east myself!” The man beamed a partially toothed smile at them. “Fort Worth. You folks are lucky you found the store open. Just got back this morning.”
“You don’t say?”
“Yessir. Got me a ride on a fast wagon yesterday. Drove all night.”
Sam nodded. Millie could feel the tension in his hand on her arm, the fear that this brush with the store proprietor was costing him. Was he worried that the man had heard about the kidnapping, Millie wondered, or was he concerned that she might blurt something out to the old man? If it was the latter, she would be perfectly willing to put Sam’s mind at ease. She didn’t see much point in trying to enlist the old fellow’s aid.
When Sam failed to respond further, Ned continued, “I was off visiting my married sister. Lives in Fort Worth. How ’bout you? Where out west are you headed, exactly?”
Sam hesitated, his mouth slightly opened, then blurted out, “We’re eloping.”
Millie shot him a shocked glance, her mouth agape. Not only had he not answered the man’s question, he’d come out with something totally unexpected. Yet she soon saw the wisdom in Sam’s improvisation. If he’d intended to get the proprietor’s mind off precise destinations, he couldn’t have said anything better. When she looked back at Ned, he was all smiles.
“How ‘bout that!” he cried. He let out a little whoop, then winked at Millie and leaned forward to whisper confidentially, “I was wonderin’ why he was holdin’ on to you so tight, but now I know. He’s scared a handsome fellow like me’s gonna steal his little bride away!”
He chortled merrily and winked again as Millie laughed limply along with him. Even Sam managed to force out a chuckle or two.
“Well, well,” Ned went on. “What can I get for ya?”
Sam smiled, relaxing a little at Millie’s continued silence. “Well, Ned,” he said, shooting her a satisfied smile, “we just stopped by to get the wife a little grub.”
“Don’t want to take time off from the honeymoonin’ to go huntin’, is that it?”
“How did you guess?” Sam replied, squeezing Millie around the waist.
Millie felt her face flame at the implication — as if she would honeymoon with a desperado! Yet at the same time, she kept her tongue. This poor old man didn’t know about her predicament, and couldn’t do anything about it even if he did. The best she could hope for at this point was some good food.
She scanned the dusty shelves, full of jars with questionable contents, hoping to see something that caught her eye. Instead, her gaze alit on something far more interesting.
“A newspaper!” she exclaimed.
Ned turned to it with interest. “Just brought it back from Fort Worth.”
“Would you mind if I read it some while my husband does the shopping?” she asked, squarely returning Sam’s unamused stare. “I’d like to