Free Samantha James by Outlaw Heart Page A

like she was a fragile porcelain doll, and she certainly didn’t need it from this man. Just like Dillon, he was overbearing and overconfident.
    “I’ll have you know,” she began stiffly, her spine poker-iron straight, “I’ve been riding since I was three years old. I can rope and brand and track a lost calf as well as any ranch hand—and I shoot better than most, something that might come in handy. I don’t think you’ll find me a liability.”
    A liability? Kane snorted. What he found her was a pain in the …
    Her chin lifted. She faced him with a bravado that was more than a little feigned. “I have no intention of letting you go after Dillon without me. Like it or not, we’re stuck with each other.”
    He glared at her. “I don’t like it,” he told her, his tone downright nasty. “I don’t like it one damn bit, so let’s get things straight right now—I won’t play nursemaid. The sooner we find your precious husband, the sooner I can be rid of you. And believe me, sweetheart, that can’t happen too soon.”
    He stalked to where his hat lay on the dusty earth. He grabbed it and jammed it on his head, then retraced his steps back to his horse—but not before he’d bent to retrieve his gun where it lay near a clump of dry grass.
    The stinging retort she’d been about to deliver died on her lips. Sunlight glinted off the eight-inch barrel of the Colt as he turned to face her. Her ire forgotten, she watched as he slid it into the holster tied to his thigh. Rampant challenge glowed in the burning gray gaze that met hers, as if he expected her protest.
    But Abby wasn’t about to protest, either vocally or otherwise. Oh, no, she hadn’t mistaken the glittering challenge in his eyes …
    She’d managed to sneak his gun out from beneath his nose once.
    She wouldn’t be so lucky again.
    Without a word she turned and headed into the stable. She knew Kane watched as she saddled Sonny. She tried hard not to think about the fact that she was about to ride off with a man who might be every bit as unsavory and dangerous as Stringer Sam …
    He’d said he would help her. She had no choice but to trust him—trust him and pray he wouldn’t shoot her in the back the instant her back was turned …
    The thought was scarcely comforting.
    “Where are we headed?”
    It was several hours later. The question earned her nothing but a dark, impatient look. “Well?” she demanded when he said nothing. “Since I’m paying you, don’t you think I have a right to know?”
    His lips thinned in impatience, which made Abby feel like a fly in his soup and spurred her indignation. “North,” came his barely discernible grunt.
    She felt like gnashing her teeth. “I’m quite aware of that,” she said with false pleasantness. “Would you mind telling me how far north?”
    Obviously he did mind, but he obliged nonetheless. “A couple of hundred miles,” he said brusquely.
    Abby gasped. “That’s clear across the Territory! Why, that’ll take us a—a good week to get there!”
    “If we’re lucky,” he said curtly. “And that’s all I’m going to say. Believe me, sister, the less you know about Sam’s hideout, the better. I don’t think I need to remind you Rowdy Roy was killed for knowing.”
    Those words chilled her to the bone. It was little wonder Abby was disinclined to engage in further conversation.
    They continued westward, traveling along the flank of the Laramie Mountains. To the east, rugged peaks timbered with alpine fir and pine stretched skyward. She and Kane did their best to ignore each other, keeping their eyes trained anywhere but on the other.
    Although Abby was used to spending long hours in the saddle, the hours without sleep last night had taken their toll. By late afternoon she was convinced the day would never end.
    Not long after, her eyelids began to droop. She must have dozed, for she jerked awake with a start. Her gaze swung almost guiltily to Kane, only to find knowing eyes