Kidnapping Kalli Read online

  The other thousand dollars was important, but not as much as the release of the lien that O’Connor had come into possession of for the Barrett holdings. Everything the Barretts had worked for over three generations was at stake.

  His brother, Dirk, had managed to throw the entire Barrett family into chaos with his “shenanigans”, as their mother called it. But Dirk’s wild ways had gotten him killed, and left the Barrett holdings virtually in the hands of railroad magnate-turned-cattle baron Seamus O’Connor—who happened to own the neighboring spread. And was always looking to expand.

  When Shiloh had gone to him to work out a settlement, it had been easier than he’d ever imagined. O’Connor had offered him more than he’d asked for—all for the kidnapping of Kalliroe White Dove O’Connor, Seamus’s daughter and only child.

  According to O’Connor, he and Kalli’s mother, Ria, had been very much in love. But when Kalli was five, her mother had left to return to her people, a Cherokee band who made their home near Talihina in Indian Territory.

  Seamus loved Ria and Kalli, but he had his pride. After asking Ria to return and being rejected, he’d settled down to building an empire instead of a family.

  Now, he yearned to see his daughter once more. Shiloh had wondered what might have precipitated this desire to rekindle a relationship with Kalli, but he supposed that was only normal. If Shiloh had had a family, he figured he’d feel the same way.

  But if he’d ever had a family, he’d never have let them go to begin with. He supposed Seamus realized he’d made a mistake…now that all these wasted years had passed.

  No, in Shiloh’s own family, Dirk was dead, due to his immature brashness. Their father had passed away years ago, when the boys were teens, and Christy still a child.

  Now, Shiloh had to keep what was left of his family together—and hold on to what Dirk had thrown away in one night of wild poker games—if he was able. The Circle B had been in their family for three generations. Though it might not have meant anything to his older brother, it meant everything to Shiloh.

  His mother couldn’t be turned out into the cold now. They’d all worked too hard to hang on to that place. All but Dirk, and he was gone. Nostalgia washed over Shiloh.

  Dirk had been the one who had taught him how to swear, how to drink—and how to gamble. He’d always had a smile on his face and ready laugh. But hard work had not been something he’d been fond of.

  When their father had died of consumption, Shiloh and Asher had pulled the heavy load of keeping the place going, and Dirk had left to make his own way in the world.

  That had been nearly ten years ago.

  Then, two months past, the sheriff had ridden out with the news that Dirk had been killed—along with a notice that the Circle B had been the cause of his death. Asher had wired Shiloh to come home. That very day, he had quit the Rangers and ridden back to take care of what he was certain must have been a mistake.

  Only…it hadn’t been. By the time Shiloh had gotten home, his older brother’s fresh grave lay beside his father’s, and Ash was sporting a black eye from a run-in with Seamus O’Connor himself.

  “Send Shiloh to see me, boy-o,” Seamus had told Asher with one last kick to his side as he lay in the street. “I’ve a proposition for him.”

  And this had been it: Kidnap Kalli, and deliver her to her father. In exchange, O’Connor would pay two thousand dollars and clear the deed to the Circle B he’d won. It would be free again, and this time, Shiloh vowed, it would be held at the bank with instructions not to be released to either of the brothers, but both of them together. Anything that happened from now on would have to be a joint decision.

  Shiloh was brought out of his memories as Kalli removed Racer’s saddle and placed it under his leg in an effort to elevate it.

  Then, she put the poultice on the bite with a firm hand. “This will soothe in a moment,” she reassured him, seeing his grimace. “I know it hurts.”

  Again, her smooth hand fell gently across his forehead, blessedly comforting against his fevered skin…so cool it made him aware of how his temperature had risen even further in a short space of time.

  Was she lying about how bad the snake bite was? Hell, was there any good side to this? A snake bite was a snake bite, wasn’t it? They were all serious. There was nothing he could do for himself. He hoped to hell Kalli did have some experience—if not, he was done for. Even if she did know what she was doing, there was no guarantee he would make it.

  Maybe if he told her why he’d taken her…would she go to her father voluntarily? If so, maybe O’Connor would release the lien…keep his word…let Asher and Ma be…

  There was something in O’Connor he didn’t like or trust. The man seemed to keep to himself—not that there was anything wrong with that, in particular, but…something secretive hid behind his eyes…

  Could Kalli be trusted? Shiloh laughed at himself. At this point, he had no choice.

  Chapter Three

  After she’d seen to Shiloh’s wound and his comfort—as much as possible in these surroundings—Kalli cared for the horse.

  Racer was a magnificent animal, and Kalli stood brushing him with the curry brush she’d found in Shiloh’s saddlebags. She spoke softly to the big black, and to her delight, he bent his head and nuzzled her hair.

  “Well, things have certainly taken an unexpected turn for us, haven’t they, Racer?” Kalli said softly. She cast a quick look over her shoulder at Shiloh, who lay beside the small fire. “Will you keep watch while I go in search of a little more wood to get us through the night?”

  The horse seemed to agree with a quick nod, and Kalli laughed softly, leaning her head against Racer’s neck. “I know you will, good boy.”

  She put the brush back where she’d found it and picked up the lantern, looking wistfully at the blanket spread across Shiloh. She wouldn’t be gone long. He needed the warmth more than she did.

  She moved past the horses and headed out the mouth of the cave. Quickly, she gathered what nearby wood she could and carried it back inside, laying it close to the fire.

  Shiloh opened his eyes, watching her.

  “Should’ve …” He lifted the edge of the blanket.

  Kalli shook her head. “I couldn’t have carried the lantern, held the blanket around me, and gathered wood all at once. I wasn’t out there long. But it smells like snow. You were right, earlier.”

  He nodded. “We got enough wood…for the night?”

  “If we need more, I’ll get it. You just rest—and don’t worry about firewood.” She knelt beside him, giving him a reassuring smile.

  “Kalli—I have to say somethin’—somethin’ you gotta know…”

  “I’m here. I’m listening. Don’t be so troubled by whatever this is you need to tell me—”

  He fought for consciousness, the words coming haltingly. “Your father…he hired me. Wants to see you again…he said he would…would…” His voice faded, and he drifted off to sleep again.

  She gently pushed his hair away from his forehead. “Must’ve paid you a lot, Mr. Shiloh Barrett,” she said softly, letting this new bit of information sink in. Her father. She barely remembered him. Big, like a bear…auburn hair and a beard—she remembered that, because most Cherokees had little to no facial hair. But her father was Irish—that much, she knew.

  And he was so strong—she remembered laughing with him…

  “Again, Papa!”

  Dutifully, he’d pitched her up into the air and he’d caught her—he always caught her. He’d never let her fall…

  She’d forgotten that…one of the memories she’d clung to as a child, hoping for a reunion with her dear papa that never came. Perhaps she’d mislaid that memory on purpose—to protect her childish heart. She couldn’t bear to believe Papa had sent her and Mama away, as she’d been told often enough. She had never believed that—especially as she’d gotten older and been able to read her mother’s expressions when Kalli had asked questions.

  And spe
aking of payment for his services…Kalli went to his saddlebags, telling herself she needed to understand this man. To do that, she must see what all he carried in his bags…could be anything from hardtack to Indian scalps…She intended to find out.

  Giving him a quick glance to reassure herself that he slept, she quietly began to remove the items she hadn’t pulled out before.

  A gold pocket watch…a pencil sketch—obviously drawn by a child… She unfolded the well-worn paper to see a stick-figure family. A mother, father, three older boys…and a young girl. Did Shiloh have a family? Was he married? She refolded it and carefully laid it aside.

  Reaching back inside the leather pouch, she pulled out an oilskin cloth, tied up on the side. She pulled the ribbon and opened it, her gaze falling on more cash than she’d ever seen in one place. Must be what he’d been paid to steal her…

  She re-tied the ribbon without counting it, and put it back into the saddle bag. Her hand touching something else…she pulled it out—a picture, and glass…

  When she turned it over, she gasped, moving the lantern quickly to see better.

  It was her! A picture of her father and mother, and her between them… She couldn’t have been more than four or five years old. It must have been made not long before she and Mama had returned to Indian Territory.

  Papa looked happy. And so proud. Mama…even in the dim light, she could see the uncertainty in her mother’s eyes. But it was her own image that captivated her. She’d never seen a picture of herself before! She didn’t even know one existed.

  Finally, she moved to return the picture to Shiloh’s saddle bag, but stopped herself as she reached for the leather pouch. Why should she put it back? Shiloh knew what she looked like. Even though she was a young girl in the tintype, her features were recognizable.

  She wanted this picture. She’d never stolen anything in her life, but the photograph…she had to have it! And he didn’t need it any longer, she reasoned.

  Her father might ask her to give it back, but for the rest of this journey, she intended to hold onto it—and look at it as often as she wished.

  As she began to replace Shiloh’s clothing and the provisions he kept, along with the personal articles, she couldn’t help opening the folded paper again to look at the drawing.

  “My sister…drew it,” he said hoarsely from across the cave.

  Kalli started, then gave him a guilty look, but his eyes were closed again. She came across the room and knelt beside him.

  “What’s your sister’s name?”

  He smiled. “Christy. She’s not so little anymore, but I always kept that drawing…just to remember when she was. She’s twenty, now…got two little ones of her own.”

  A pang of jealousy settled in Kalli’s heart for a brief moment. Christy was only two years older than Kalli. And she had a family of her own—two children.

  “That’s nice,” Kalli said. “I—that would be nice. To have a family.” She fell silent a moment, then said, “Other girls went home for Christmas, but…I stayed. My uncle said it would only make it harder to go back—”

  “Your uncle is an ass,” Shiloh growled.

  He didn’t excuse his language, and somehow, that made Kalli understand that he felt comfortable enough with her to speak his true feelings. And that he didn’t need to make his apologies to her for his honesty.

  “We always had…good Christmases,” Shiloh said after a moment. “My two brothers and me. Then, Christy was born the Christmas I turned eight.” Shiloh gave a low chuckle at the memory. “I tell ya, the three of us boys thought our world had ended, having a little sister instead of another brother.”

  Kalli sighed, settling herself beside him. “How I envy you…brothers and a sister…Loving parents?” she questioned, then smiled as he nodded.

  “Lost my pa when I was seventeen from consumption.”

  “So many of our people have passed on from that terrible disease, as well. I’m sorry.”

  Shiloh shifted, trying to find some relief.

  “I’ll change the poultice,” Kalli said. “We have to keep it changed and as warm as you can stand it.”

  “My leg feels tight…so swollen.”

  Kalli rose to prepare another poultice. “It is swollen. If the snow comes, I can pack it in the snow so your blood doesn’t run so quick and hot. Maybe that will bring some relief…”

  A half-grin touched his lips. “Right now, I’m worried about dyin’ more than gettin’ away from the pain. I expect I’ll get to the place, eventually, when they’ll both be just as welcome.” He grimaced. “If I lose this leg, I just hope I go ahead and…die…”

  “Don’t say that, Shiloh. I don’t intend to let you die. And I don’t intend for you to lose your leg, either.” She swallowed, turning to face him. “You’re going to take me to my father.”

  • ♥ •

  After Kalli had replaced the poultice, Shiloh had fallen into a deep sleep. He’d tried to stay awake, but the poison was at work on him. He was too tired to fight it…but at least, Kalli seemed to know what was needed to hold off the deadly venom. The poultices must be helping, or he’d already be dead by now, he figured.

  She could’ve let him go to meet his Maker, but every time he’d opened his eyes, she’d been preparing poultices, gathering wood to keep the fire going, or dribbling water into his parched mouth. She’d even wet a cool cloth to lay across his forehead. There was nothing she wasn’t trying to save him, and make him more comfortable. And that she certainly didn’t have to do.

  So…she wanted to go to her father…well, that would help matters, from his standpoint. Even if he recovered, he’d be in no shape to get back to Ft. Worth without Kalli’s help. Or maybe even with her help. Dammit.

  How he hated the unexpected…but wasn’t that exactly what his life had been for the last eleven years? Pa’s death, though predictable, had still come suddenly in the night and changed all their lives.

  Dirk’s disappearance, then subsequent death and loss of their family holdings had thrown Shiloh—and the rest of the family—into a whirlwind of chaos.

  Shiloh’s meeting with Seamus O’Connor had not gone as he’d foreseen, either, with the big man apologizing for blacking Asher’s eye and for killing Dirk, and then offering Shiloh a way out of the bind Dirk had put them in—all in the same five minutes. Kidnapping wasn’t something that sat well on Shiloh’s conscience—even if it was O’Connor’s own flesh and blood!

  But, by God, he’d done it…and a good thing it was, because if it hadn’t been for Kalli he’d be dead by now; but, if it hadn’t been for Kalli, he wouldn’t have been at that creek getting water for their coffee. What a fix. A conundrum, as his brother, Asher, would say…He missed Kalli’s presence. He didn’t want to die alone, and wasn’t that what was happening, really?

  Kalli…Kalli…

  • ♥ •

  “Kalli…Kalli…”

  She couldn’t ignore his fevered mumblings. She’d lay down beside him, covering herself with part of the blanket, lying as close to him as she dared. She’d positioned herself on his left side away from the fire, letting him soak up the warmth, instead.

  Also, there wasn’t as much chance of her coming into contact with his sore leg if she was lying on the opposite side. Still, he mumbled and groaned as he shifted uncomfortably. She put a hand on his shoulder, and he stilled.

  “I’m here,” she said. “Shhh…I’m here.”

  “Don’t leave…”

  She smiled. “Never. You sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  She should go. She should ride back to Talihina, find her cousin, and bring a group of men to haul Shiloh Barrett back to town—

  It startled her to realize she wasn’t thinking of them bringing him back to face justice for taking her—she wanted him to have better medical care than what she could provide.

  For the first time, self-doubt cornered her, and she wondered if she could save him. The only defense against the crushing insecurity was
anger. She was not going to let a damn rattlesnake kill this man! She had helped treat snake bites before…

  Her thoughts trailed away as she remembered the look in his dark eyes…resignation to what had happened, and a guarded hope that she would not run out on him and leave him to die alone in this godforsaken cave in the cold winter night.

  With a start, Kalli realized she was his prisoner—but not because he’d kidnapped her. She held a certain power, now, over him—and the situation. Oh, yes, she could steal Racer and ride out of here; leave Shiloh to fend for himself…to get better, by the grace of Creator, or to die.

  But Shiloh meant her no harm. He was taking her back to her father. A thrill raced through her, and risking a quick glance to be sure Shiloh still slept, she pulled the tintype out and gazed at it in the flickering light.

  Papa. How I’ve missed you!

  Determination washed over her. She was going to save Shiloh. And together, they would make it back to Ft. Worth and whatever awaited them there.

  Restlessly, he shifted, as if he were aware of her thoughts. Suddenly cold, she put the picture away in her pocket. At her involuntary shiver, Shiloh instinctively pulled her close to him.

  She stiffened, intending to move away, but his grasp was insistent.

  What could it hurt? She had never been held by a man. Even when he was asleep and didn’t know any better. She warmed instantly as she remembered waking up in Shiloh’s arms as they rode into the mountains. She hadn’t been afraid. She had seen the apologetic look in his eyes when he’d put the chloroformed rag over her nose, earlier. He would not harm her.

  She sighed and let herself be pulled into his embrace, the warmth of his body seeping into her skin, her bones, her muscles…relaxing her as she’d never been able to relax before. Why?

  Safe…the word seemed to come to her with the crackle of the small fire, the far-away gust of wind outside the cave entrance, and Shiloh’s touch. His fingers relaxed, too, as she acquiesced and came into his arms.