The Wild Baron (Baron 1)

Still, he parted from his neighbors and rode Gulliver hard to the maple forest.

Susannah realized then that she’d been prisoner in a dilapidated cabin that was falling down on itself. But the two doors to those small rooms, they’d been new. So had the locks. What had this place been? Why had there been moldy straw in those two rooms?

Why was she thinking about that moldy straw? She was losing her mind. She had to escape. She was out the front door that was hanging loose on its hinges, nearly ready to crash to the ground. She was in a very small clearing. All around her were maple trees.

She heard him yell, heard the door crash open.

She ran with tiny steps into the forest and barely made it to the cover of the trees before she heard the man shout, pain and rage filling his voice. “Damn you, you silly bitch! I don’t want to kill you, I just want what is mine! Come back here or I will hurt you when I find you! Where do you think you will go?”

Oh, God. She could make a foot at a time, not more. She felt the ropes digging into her ankles, deeper and deeper as she strained to pull. He would be on her quickly enough. Was the ground damp? Could he see her pitiful little steps?

There was no hope for it. She couldn’t wait. She dropped to the ground and began untying the ropes at her ankles. It was slow going.

She heard him shouting, cursing her, threatening her. She kept working the knots. Finally they came free.

She heard him crashing through the forest. To her right, not far, but not yet upon her.

She jumped to her feet and ran directly into a root, tripped and went hurtling forward. She didn’t bring her tied wrists up in time to protect her face, and so she swallowed dirt and leaves.

She felt pain spreading through her and lay there a moment, panting. Where was he? She spat out the dirt, the damp leaves. Her face hurt. She raised her bound hands and felt the scratches. Her fingers came away red with blood.

Then she felt the earth shuddering beneath her. He was closer. In just a few moments he would see her. What was left of her ripped nightgown was hanging off her, but it was white. He would see white in a flash.

She began crawling, keeping as close to the ground as she could. When his voice faded, she stood and ran again. She ran until a stitch in her side brought her to a gasping halt. She leaned against a tree, trying to slow her breathing.

“Well, at last I’ve got you.”

Rohan knew the shack was near. He kept picturing it in his boy’s mind. He had to keep Gulliver to a walk, for the trees twisted all around him, the thick branches were weapons, making even a canter impossible.

Then his blood curdled.

He heard a woman’s scream. And then a yell. “No, damn you, no!”

He pulled the pistol from his belt. He aimed it into the air. But he didn’t fire, even though he knew the blast would echo through the thick forest and alert the man who’d taken her that help was near. He didn’t fire because he realized the man would probably escape and he wanted that man very badly.

More than anything, Rohan wanted that man.

He heard the man yelling, cursing.

Then he was on them. The man was on top of her. Damnation, was he raping her? Her nightgown was in shreds, hanging off her, the man was between her legs, heaving over her. Jesus, he was choking her.

Then the man looked up to see Gulliver nearly upon him. For an instant he froze, undecided what to do.

Then he struck her, leapt to his feet, and took off running. Rohan calmly raised his pistol and fired. The impact lifted the man off his feet and slammed him into a tree.

Susannah came slowly up to her knees. Her head hurt ferociously where the man had just struck her. She saw Ro-han fire, saw him leap off Gulliver’s broad back and run toward her. She turned slowly and saw the man lying some ten yards away at the base of a tree. Was he dead? She hoped not. She wanted to kill him herself.

“Rohan,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You came. Bless you.”

“My God,” he said, grabbing her arms and lifting her up. “Are you all right?” He stared at the dirty face, the tangled hair. He refused to look at her body. On the other hand, he was a man, with a reputation to maintain. So he looked, but only for a moment.

“You came,” she said again. “I prayed you would. I’m all right, just sore.”

He didn’t think, just pulled her against him. She felt his steady heartbeat next to hers. She tucked her face against his neck. “You came,” she said again, and yet again. “I was so frightened.”

“It looks like you very nearly escaped him. How did he catch you?”

“I had to untie my ankles. It gave him time to catch up to me.”