Free Circle Eight: Vaughn by Emma Lang Page B

hands were an angry red, tied tightly to the saddle. Although she was furious with him, he didn’t deserve the treatment he’d received.
    They were in a wooded area, surrounded by leafy green deciduous trees. Nature danced all around them as dappled sunlight peeked through. It was a perfect summer day. If only she wasn’t held prisoner by an outlaw, kidnapped and bound.
    “We need to stop.”
    Gibson ignored her but she wasn’t in the mood to accept it.
    “I will set this cow pony off and drag you across this forest. I know where I am, do you?” She narrowed her gaze, her anger now awake and pulsing.
    “I’ll stop but only to take a piss. We got two more days hard ridin’ ahead of us and I ain’t stoppin’ to rest ’til we get there.” Gibson pointed ahead. “I hear water up yonder.”
    Elizabeth let loose a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She would be able to wash up, possibly help Vaughn and get a few minutes’ rest to try to find an escape from this situation. The pistol bounced against her thigh, reminding her she had one option but she had to wait until the right moment to use it.
    He pulled up at the edge of a small creek. It was barely six inches deep but the water ran clear. Elizabeth waited impatiently while her captor dismounted and let the horses to the water. Jeb did the same for Vaughn, although he was still out cold.
    “Vaughn, wake up.” She kicked at his leg.
    He didn’t even move. She had the awful notion he had died and they were carrying a corpse around. Her heart picked up its pace. Not that she had any desire to have anything to do with the man, but she didn’t wish him dead. She kicked again, enough to make her own foot hurt.
    Vaughn groaned and twitched, his eyes rolling in his head. “Wha?”
    “Wake up and fight for yourself, fool.” She wasn’t being very kind, but at the moment she couldn’t dredge up one iota of kindness for any one of these men.
    He peered at her from his right eye, the left too swollen to open. “I’m sorry, Ellie.” She heard true regret in his voice.
    “You should be.” She didn’t blame him entirely for the situation, considering he shared it with the bastards who held them captive.
    Her bladder picked that moment to remind her she truly did need to relieve herself. She squirmed on the saddle, eager to get off the horse. Gibson, the bastard, took his sweet time watering the horses while she listened to the sound of the gurgling creek. It was sheer torture and he knew it. The snake grinned at her, reminding her he was a handsome bastard beneath the grime. She wanted to kick his teeth in.
    “Ready?” Gibson picked at the knots holding her to the saddle. Prickles of sensation attacked her hands and wrists. She sucked in a breath through her teeth as those prickles became pain.
    “Let me down.” She’d be damned if she said “please” to him. She had to nurse her anger, it was keeping her strong. Thinking about home, about Martha, was too painful. Right now, she had to consider how to get away from them and back home, if there was anything to return to.
    Her heart ached for what she knew she’d lost, even if she couldn’t see it. Gibson did this to her and he needed something from Vaughn. She didn’t know all the details yet, just that it involved a deed and money. Vaughn Montgomery was a confident man and he’d swindled the Gibsons. They obviously weren’t upstanding citizens but no one deserved to be tricked.
    Yet she pitied him. He hadn’t recovered from his previous wound and now he’d been beaten again, enough to make him unconscious for eight hours or more. She was no doctor but head injuries were dangerous. Some people were never the same after a serious hit to the head.
    Gibson took her by the waist and pulled her off the saddle. Before she could come to terms with being so close to him, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, his mustache tickling the sensitive skin.
    “Don’t want you runnin’ away, now do