My Angel (51 page)

"Angela did not want to be found. Catching up to Angela will not be easy for us either," Sam said, his voice swelling with both pride in and fear for his daughter.

He had taught her well--perhaps too well. Her life might be the price for her expertise.

Day drew into night, and still they moved on, both knowing Angela would not stop unless she had to. She had two days head start. Anything could happen in this wilderness and country she knew nothing about.

Sam found an apple core and then another, and prayed they were Angela's. Fear for her settled in the depth of his gut. She would not have left such a sign if she had her wits about her. She was hurting. The need for speed welled inside him.

Then Alexi found the spot where she'd lain to rest, saw blood on the granite she'd lain against and saw, too, the tracks of other men.

Two other men had found her and spirited her away. Their tracks led deep into the mountains.

~ * ~

Alexi set a steady pace, his heart heavy with worry. He'd never felt so frightened. Angela was everything to him. To live the rest of his years alone, without her, would make his life have no meaning. The thought startled him. He'd never believed a woman could mean so very much to him.

Sam mirrored Alexi's apprehension in the grim set of his mouth. Alexi could read the fear in the older man, could see the anguish in the set of his shoulders, the tilt of his chin. He saw love and pride for Angela in Sam's expression, and heard the same in the man's voice every time he spoke of her.

Angela was a wild thing, an adventure ready to happen. Alexi prayed she'd had her fill of excitement.

She would have learned discipline at her father's knee, a moral code that would run straight and true. When all this was finished, Alexi meant to ask Sam just what the hell Angela was doing at Velvet leBon's whorehouse the night Emma Barringer was to be auctioned. The man was a fool for letting her dress
as a whore, for allowing a man like himself to believe the worst of a fragile, sweet woman. Alexi smiled inwardly. Angela would never admit it, but she
was
soft and fragile, delicate in the extreme. She could fight like a man, yet she did not have the strength to pit herself against him. He'd won the only battle they'd ever engaged in simply by overpowering her then subduing her.

"Hell," Alexi muttered.

"You're feeling the danger, too. When we get Angela back to your home, I intend to find out what made you think you could steal my daughter without asking permission."

Alexi moaned. He didn't have an answer. Arrogance? The fact that he'd never been denied anything before in his life? "When we get back, old man... when we get back, I'm going to demand a few answers of my own."

"Very well," Sam gritted out.

Night settled in, and the wind blowing down from the mountains chilled Alexi. Or perhaps it was fear that sent the cold straight to his heart. His mind played games with him, his imagination running rampant, his terror at Angela's abduction wrenching his heart into two separate pieces.

He had promised to keep her safe. She had promised to stay at the mansion. According to Yuri she had endured as much as she could. She'd run only because there was no other way.

Firelight bathed the hard angles and planes of Sam's features. He lit a cheroot. The embers glowed red-hot against the black cloak of night. They both had a multitude of unanswered questions.

"What did you say to my daughter?" Sam asked. His tone held no menace, just curiosity.

"I didn't seduce her, if that's what you're asking." Guilt swept through him. Until now he had not believed seduction had played a part in this.

Perhaps in her innocence she had not known how to stop him. He'd been very persuasive.

"She's a grown woman with a mind of her own. I'll give you that much," Sam said reflectively. He flicked his cigarette into the flames of the fire. "She's stubborn and hardheaded. She ran from me--right into your arms. I will claim my share of responsibility here."

"
I.
wanted her the first time I touched her."

Sam choked on the coffee he'd just swallowed. "Touched her, did you? In what way?"

Alexi rose. He tossed the remains of his coffee into the fire. "How I touched Angela is between Angela and myself."

Sam stood. They were eye-to-eye, the fire separating them. "The way I see the situation, now that I'm here everything between the two of you is my business. If you've had her in your bed or even in your arms, I mean to see the two of you married."

Alexi's voice was filled with grave concern. He ignored the threat. "We have to find her first." Alexi walked to the edge of the light. He stared into the darkness. This was not the American West, but the untamed land was just as dangerous. The men who roamed these hills were a ruthless bunch. They lived by their wits alone. They robbed travelers of their money and provisions. Many of them were wanted for their political actions against the czar.

There was great unrest in his country.

After living in the
United States
, he believed as the rebels did, but he prayed no one knew of his attachment to Angela. Her life could be forfeit if they did, if she fell into the wrong man's hands.

He suddenly understood the truth of his feelings. "I will marry her."

Sam studied him for the longest time, his nod of approval encouraging.' 'I believe you are man enough for my daughter.''

Alexi laughed softly at the compliment Sam gave, and felt a rush of energy sweep through him. "Thank you," he said, returning to the fire. "This light is a beacon to any who wish to see it."

Sam nodded. "You've set a trap and we are the bait. You are foolish and brave. Perhaps you know more about those who have stolen her than I do."

"This is not
America
, so I should. But I don't. If they knew who followed, they would be here, demanding ransom. We've
heard nothing except the howl of the wolves." He hunkered down, playing with the embers of the fire. "I am worried. Very worried."

~ * ~

Angela stared straight ahead, and all she saw were stiff, rugged mountains and an iron gray sky. The grueling pace the men who captured her set challenged her endurance. Twice she nodded off on the back of her mount, slumping into the arms of her captor behind her, who bore a striking resemblance to Alexi.

The man was not as dark or as brooding, but he had the same deep brown eyes--eyes that seemed to find a way to penetrate her soul. Twenty-four hours later they rode into a small village nestled in a valley. Small children played in the dusty spaces between the huts, dogs barking and nipping at their heels.

No more than two words had been said between her and her captors--or benefactors, she wasn't sure which they were.

"You will rest," the man who rode in front of her said, startling her. His voice was ragged and sounded frustrated. "You will rest and we will wait here for your man to find you and pay for your ransom."

She started to nod. Yes, Alexi would find her. But then she changed her mind. "No," she said with more energy than she knew she possessed.

"No?" the man queried. "Then I was right. You were running. What is it that frightens you so badly that you become brave enough to venture through these parts alone?"

She clamped down on her impulsive tongue. He would laugh if she told him how a woman with skinny arms frightened her. "I will take your advice," she said.

"Ah, a rarity," he said, laughing. "A smart woman." His hands rested on her waist. He lifted her easily from the horse. An old woman came from the hut they'd stopped in front of.

She was wrinkled with age, her hair silver-gray, pulled back into a tight knot at the base of her neck. She wore a brown dress that had obviously seen several seasons of wear. When
she smiled at the big man, her face lit up and for a passing second she looked years younger. The welcome seemed genuine.

Angela wanted to hold her hand out in greeting, but her knees gave way. The big man who'd brought her here scooped her into his arms.

"I can walk," Angela protested.

"Should I let you down so you can melt into a puddle at my feet? You do not need to prove how stubborn you are." He paused a few seconds to look at the woman, perhaps to gain permission to enter the hut. She nodded and he went inside, turning sideways and bending at the waist as he went through the door.

The one room was small and scrubbed clean. She could smell soap and disinfectant. A peat fire burned in the fireplace, sending a warm glow throughout the otherwise dark room. A bed, a rocking chair and a table with two chairs were all the furniture the old woman had.

The man chose the bed to set her upon.

"Turn over," he told her sternly, all gentleness disappearing from his voice. "I want to look at your back."

She sat wide-eyed, not venturing to move, a heated protest forming on her lips. All she could manage was to shake her head in denial.

The old woman made a
tsking
noise. "Go on with you, you big oaf. Have you no manners? Shoo," she said, brushing the large man aside.

Angela held her breath, not daring to imagine what the man would do if the old woman angered him.