Cade

"I have my reasons. We'll talk about it later."

She took another step closer. The sun had tinged her cheeks pink and emphasized a few freckles across the bridge of her nose. She gazed up at him, a tiny frown creasing her forehead, her dark eyes flashing. "I want to talk about it now."

"We're running out of daylight."

She folded her arms across her chest. She barely reached his shoulder, yet she squared off against him as if they were eye to eye. "Who are you? Why did you call me Bella? Do I know you? No one has called me that since I was a little girl."

He hadn't meant to call her by the nickname he'd given her when they'd been friends so long ago. Before Dobson destroyed everything he knew. Before his life changed forever. "That's your name, isn't it?"

She nodded. "But only a few people ever called me that."

Damn! He didn't want her to know who he was until he had time to explain why he'd abducted her. If she realized who he was, she'd be asking questions. Questions he wasn't ready to answer yet. "Get on the horse."

She turned as if she was going to obey, then stopped. Spinning around, she narrowed her eyes, examining his face. "There's something so familiar about you," she said. "I want to see your face."

It had been a long time since they'd seen each other. He'd changed. Surely she wouldn't recognize him even if he allowed her to see his face. Besides, he was planning to keep her for four days. He couldn't keep his face hidden until then.

She closed the gap between them. She lifted her hand, her finger brushing against his cheek. Her touch seared his skin. Their eyes met, and he was lost. He couldn’t refuse her. He nodded.

As if she was anxious but scared at the same time, she lowered the bandanna until it dangled around his neck. Then she took a step back, tilted her head a fraction and studied him for what seemed like hours. Suddenly, her eyes widened and her hand flew to her throat. One word escaped from her lips. "Cade."

Cade Morgan!

Isabella hadn't seen him for twelve years. Twelve long years of wondering what had become of him. Why he'd left without a word. She hadn't seen or heard from him since the day he and Hiram Wells had gotten into a fistfight because Hiram had tried to kiss her behind the schoolhouse. As the other students at the one-room school crowded around, Cade had grabbed Hiram and pummeled him until his nose was bloody and his eye swollen shut. He'd threatened him with more of the same unless Hiram promised never to bother her again.

Cade had been the best friend she'd ever had until that day. He hadn't spoken to her after the fight. He'd given her a look she didn't understand, dusted himself off and stormed away.

A few days later, she heard his mother had been killed, and she'd never seen him again.

Until now.

The boy she'd known was gone, and a man had taken his place. A day's growth of beard shadowed his square jaw but couldn't hide the faint crease of a dimple in his cheek. Sun-streaked hair fell over his forehead, and she had an unreasonable urge to brush it back. His golden eyes watched her as she ran her finger across his jaw, his lips tightening and his jaw clenching at her touch.

She still affected him. She'd seen it in his eyes even before she was old enough to really understand the differences between males and females. He'd liked her back then. She'd liked him, too. A lot.

He still cared about her. The heady feeling of power was exhilarating.

Still, he was a stranger now. He wasn't the boy who'd teased her and laughed with her, taught her how to play marbles behind the mercantile and to shoot a slingshot when no one was looking.

He was an outlaw now. A thief. And most likely, a murderer.

"What happened to you?" she asked.

"Doesn't matter."

"It does to me. I heard your mama died and then you were gone. Where did you go?"

He didn't answer. "We have to go."

She hesitated. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what you're planning to do with me. If you're not going to hold me for ransom, there's only one other …" Her voice broke. He must be planning to kill her.

How could the boy who'd been like a brother to her turn into a cold-blooded killer?

Even though she dreaded a marriage to Edward, she didn't want to die. Her frivolous notion a few hours ago that death might be better than a lifetime with Edward had been just that – a silly thought that had popped into her mind. And flown out just as quickly.

She glanced at her surroundings. She had no idea where they were. They'd ridden for what seemed like hours, through rivers, up rocky hills, through red rock canyons.

"I'm not going to kill you."