Cade

He took a step back. "Go ahead," he said. "Run if you want to."

What was he up to? What kind of kidnapper just let his hostage escape?

"You'd let me go?"

"If I thought you'd try to run, I'd have tied you up. But I think you're too smart to go tearing off into the woods without knowing where you're going. You're smart enough to know it's not safe out there. Especially at night. And you know I wouldn't ever hurt you, so you have nothing to fear from me."

He was right. The wilderness was dangerous, especially at night. But Cade wasn't the boy she'd known. She didn't know the man he'd become. How could he expect her to trust him the way she had when she was a child?

A ghost of a plan took shape. She'd let him think she was a willing hostage. Come daylight, though …

Cade climbed the steps and opened the door. Isabella followed, the porch floor sagging beneath her weight. She held her breath, pausing between each step, expecting to fall right through at any moment.

Suddenly, lantern light flooded the darkness. She stepped inside.

Cade closed the door behind them. "Home sweet home," he murmured as he crossed the room and put the firewood into a hob beside a stone fireplace that took up one whole wall. A cast-iron pot hung from a hook in the fireplace.

Not the kind of home she was used to, she mused, taking in her surroundings. A wooden table with four chairs occupied one side of the room. Cast iron cooking pots were hung on the wall behind the table, and an open cupboard held cooking utensils.

A worn rag rug covered the uneven plank floor. Her gaze settled on a rocking chair and cradle, and she couldn't help wondering about the woman who had lived in this cabin before the outlaws began using it as a hideout.

She noticed a closed door on the back wall of the cabin.

"A bedroom," Cade said, following her gaze. "You can sleep there."

"Thank you."

"Right now, sit here." Cade gestured toward the rocking chair as he bent and built a fire. "You'll be warmed up in no time."

Isabella didn't want to sit. She wanted to know exactly why he'd kidnapped her and what he planned to do to her.

But she was so cold!

The flames took hold, and the warmth beckoned her. She crossed and perched on the edge of the rocking chair, letting the heat seep into her bones. She'd have plenty of time to find out what his plans were when she was warm.

He straightened. "Hungry?"

She hadn't even thought about food, but now that he mentioned it, she realized she was famished. She'd been late arriving at the stage depot that morning and hadn't had time to stop at the hotel for breakfast. She nodded.

As she watched, he reached into the cupboard and took out two packages, then reached into a drawer and pulled out a knife. A minute later, he brought her a plate with two slices of bread slathered with butter and a chunk of cheese. "This'll have to do until the stew heats through."

"It's fine. Thank you," she replied, her mouth watering. She tore off a piece of bread and took a bite. When she was finished, she got up and set the plate on the table. "You said we'd talk later. This is later."

Cade set a pot of coffee on a grate on the fire. "I suppose it is."

"I want an explanation."

"It's a long story."

She glanced around. "Obviously I'm not going anywhere."

He raked his fingers through his hair, paced to the back wall of the cabin, then turned back to face her. "I'm only going to keep you until Sunday."

Four days. He was going to keep her here for four days? Her throat constricted and she barely squeaked out the question forming in her mind. "And then what?"

She expected him to tell her he was planning to kill her then. Instead, he said quietly, "I'll take you home."

Chapter 3