Texas Wildcat Read online

  She slept again to escape the pain. The second time she awoke, reality returned almost immediately. She sat up and her hair tumbled across her shoulders and down the front of her cotton nightgown. Her lips were chapped and dry. She gazed around. Was she in a tent? The walls around her were of heavy canvaslike material, and a rug was on the ground beneath her. A man holding a rifle in his arms at the only entrance to her room drew her attention. Fear began to eat away at her composure. Frowning, Kelly touched her thigh. Just a slight amount of pressure caused pain. Pulling up the gown, she saw a huge black and blue bruise around what appeared to be an insect bite. Trying to swallow against the fear, Kelly struggled to her knees.

  “Hey!” she croaked. “Hey! Where am I?”

  The guard turned, giving her a steady but unreadable look. Another similarly clothed and armed guard came to the entrance and they conversed about her in an unintelligible language.

  Kelly forced herself to stand but she was unsteady. She placed a hand on her forehead, trying to relieve the sudden pain that standing up had produced. “Dammit,” she growled, forcing one foot ahead of the other. The guard turned, his gaze drilling into her. Kelly halted.

  “What’s going on here? Where’s Coots Matthews? I want to see Sam Tyler!”

  The guard gave her a blank look. Around his waist he wore a scimitar as long as a man’s arm. Kelly decided to retreat to the center of the room. Her mind was spongy. Why couldn’t she think straight? After carefully sitting down, Kelly cradled her aching head. Something was desperately wrong. Where was Sam? What was that horrid bruise on her leg? Nothing made sense….

  “Ahh, I see my American rose with thorns has awakened,” a voice growled.

  Kelly jerked her head up. A gasp escaped her as she recognized Sheik Hassad. He gave her a perfunctory smile as he entered the room.

  One part of her wanted to be as far away from him as possible. But another part of her said, hold your ground. He’ll hunt you down if you show fear or cowardice. She mustered what little courage she had left and thrust out her jaw, her green eyes blazing.

  “Just what is going on? Where am I? And how did I get here?”

  Hassad folded his long hands together. “Are you always a rose with thorns? I think I shall call you Thorn from now on, to remind me that you have a caustic tongue.”

  She clenched her teeth. “You’re not making sense!”

  Hassad smiled broadly, looking like a wolf who had effectively cornered his prey. He leaned down and stroked her fiery red-gold hair. She jerked away from him and scrambled to her feet, weaving drunkenly from the effects of the drug.

  Hassad straightened, his eyes glittering with a terrible light. “Even a rose with thorns must learn when to be still. You are mine now,” he said, his voice deepening with chilling authority. He watched her large green eyes widen incredulously. “I have chosen you as the newest member of my harem. Henceforth, you will be called Thorn.” His smile disappeared. “And if you do not curb yourself, woman, I will take great delight in ridding you of your tongue myself.”

  Kelly stared in disbelief and horror. This couldn’t be happening! This was almost the twenty-first century! She was an American! “You kidnapped me!” she yelled. “Against my wishes. You can’t do that and get away with it! Tyler will kill you when he finds out what you’ve done. I’m his woman. Not yours!”

  Hassad gave her a suave smile. “I will make you mine tonight. My five wives will prepare and anoint you, Thorn. If you do not cooperate, I shall personally break your fiery spirit once and for all.”

  Kelly stared at him in total shock. He left as quietly as he had come. With a small cry, she sank to her knees, fighting against the sobs that threatened to tear from her throat. Oh, God! Sam, she screamed in her mind and heart, Sam, where are you? I can’t…I won’t submit to that horrid monster! I won’t!

  She sat cross-legged, forcing herself to think clearly. She had to get control of her emotions. She had to accept the fact that she was kidnapped. Why hadn’t she paid attention to Sam’s warning to lock the bedroom door? A hundred recriminations drove her more deeply into gloom.

  As her head cleared, Kelly formed a plan. She ate the food given to her and drank deeply of the tepid water from the goatskin bag. Sam had to be hunting for her. He must! Desperation entwined with fear. She tied her thick mass of hair into a ponytail and search the room for clothing. A small ornate chest yielded various pieces of masculine attire. She discovered a pair of men’s pants and slipped them on beneath the nightgown. She had heard the whinny of horses. No stranger to riding, Kelly grimly decided to try to escape by horseback. The guard slowly walked back and forth in front of the open entrance.

  Judging from the slant of the sun beneath the tent tarp, Kelly guessed it must be near three in the afternoon. The bottom flap of the tent was not that carefully staked down. There was just enough room for her to slip beneath the edge of it. Fear closed her throat as she counted the seconds until the guard passed. She had no idea where Hassad’s camp was located or which direction to go. The only guide might possibly be the blowout. How far could they have taken her in one night? The flame from the well would guide her! She trembled visibly, fear making her heart pound wildly. The choice was either to try to escape now or be raped tonight. She shivered, her skin crawling as she thought of Hassad’s talonlike fingers on her body. No!

  Now! She dropped to the floor, squeezing out from beneath the tent. The sunlight made her squint. Without shoes, the soles of her feet were burned by the sand, but she was oblivious to the pain. To her left stood at least eight Arabian horses tied to a long rope. All were saddled. Sprinting through the sand, Kelly closed the distance between her and the animals. A shout in Arabic suddenly erupted behind her. She flinched and continued running.

  The horse closest to her jumped sideways as she lunged for the reins. More screams and curses rent the air. In seconds, she was mounted and kicking the horse. The wind tore at her as she yelled at the animal, taking the leather reins and slashing them downward along the animal’s shoulders. She looked back. Horror overrode her triumph. At least five men were mounting in pursuit!

  Grimly, Kelly glanced around. There! To the east lay the blowout. She guided the white mare in that direction. The horse fairly skimmed the undulating sand dunes. Her hair, once bound, had come undone, the fiery red cascade flying across her shoulders. The horse ran tirelessly. Kelly had expected that any animal running in the stifling heat would collapse within the first ten minutes. But it wasn’t so. The mare’s nostrils flared bloodred, but it took each dune with seeming ease. And at each rise, Kelly glanced back over her shoulder to find that the five men pursuing her were no closer than before. She saw them brandishing swords and two of them held rifles high above their heads. Would they fire on her? Would they try to hit her horse to halt her escape? Fear forced her to urge the horse even faster.

  Time melted into the inferno around her. Very soon she was feeling lightheaded. Whether it was a drug reaction or the effects of the horrible sun beating down upon her unprotected head and body, she had no idea. The white mare had broken out in a sweat. Kelly gripped at the saddle, which had no horn. She willed herself to stay alert, forcing herself to move in unison with the galloping horse. If she fell off…if she fainted…No! She would rather die first than go back into that bastard’s harem! Heat waves hung like heavy shimmering curtains in all directions as Kelly crossed the reflective white sands. Her arms were red with sunburn in no time, her head ached fiercely and she felt the cotton nightgown clinging to her upper body, soaked with perspiration.

  Kelly rode directly toward the blowout. She had lost track of time, knowing only that her five pursuers were slowly gaining on her now. It was a silent, deadly battle and she clung to the saddle, her legs rubbed raw because she had lost the rhythm of the mare beneath her. Blackness started to edge Kelly’s vision and she screamed. The mare increased her pace momentarily, startled. Anything to stay conscious! The heat was eating her alive. She felt faint, a
s if she were in an overheated oven that was ready to explode. Her mouth and throat were parched. Her eyeballs felt baked. Follow the flame, she shouted to herself. The flame! Have to get to Sam. Oh Sam, I love you! I love you! God, give me a chance to tell you that. Just let me get back! And the litany continued for another hour while she stubbornly held on to the mare. The exhausted animal had slowed now to a trot.

  One long, curving sand dune loomed above them. The blowout didn’t seem any closer. Kelly called to the mare, digging her heels weakly into the horse’s heaving, foam-flecked flanks. Her five pursuers were inexorably closing the distance. It was only a matter of time…. The mare snorted and tensed her hindquarters. Sand flew in all directions beneath her hooves. Finally, with one more lunge, they crested the long, graceful sand dune.

  Kelly fell forward, her hands slippery against the mare’s wet mane. She barely caught herself. She drew on her last ounce of courage to hang on and fight back. Through sheer force of will, Kelly made herself sit upright as she rode the mare across the top of the dune. Her vision grayed as she looked toward the blowout. Wavering curtains of heat distorted everything. Was her mind playing tricks on her? Did she see a cloud of dust coming in her direction? Was it a white flatbed? A croaking sob tore from her throat. She had no strength left to turn and see how close her pursuers were. No strength….

  Dropping forward on the mare’s neck, Kelly gripped the mane, barely able to hold on to the trotting horse. She heard the snort of horses closing in from behind her. They would soon be abreast of her…they would capture her. She had no tears left to cry. Sam! Oh, Sam, I love you. I did from the moment we met! Oh, God, we’ll never know…I’m falling…falling…I love you so much! Can’t hang on…can’t…

  Sam watched in horror as Kelly pitched over the head of the horse she was riding. No more than two hundred yards behind was the contingent of Bedouin horsemen in hot pursuit. Their rifles were raised as they spurred their mounts up toward where Kelly lay prostrate.

  “Hurry!” he yelled at Coots. Hot, blistering wind hit Sam’s face as he aimed the pistol out the window. There was no way they would take Kelly again! He squeezed the trigger. The shot cracked through the sweltering heat.

  “They ain’t gonna stop! Coots yelled, pressing the accelerator to the floor. The truck bucked and lurched, its heavily treaded tires digging into the sand.

  Sam’s face was frozen in concentration. Sweat ran down his temples; his face glistened. His mouth compressed into a single line of fury. His eyes narrowed with angry intensity as he lowered the barrel of the pistol. His first shot had been a warning. This time…

  Sam fired a second time. The leader on a bay horse had just crested the hill. The shot caught the horse in the chest. The animal screamed, knees buckling, and pitched off the rider.

  They were closing in on Kelly! Just a few hundred more feet! Sam fired another shot above the Bedouins. He watched as the horseless rider scrambled to his feet. Another rider rode forward, hand outstretched to pull the first up behind him. The five Bedouins milled about in momentary confusion.

  Coots slammed on the brakes and the truck sloughed to a stop. Sam leaped out of the truck with the pistol held in a threatening position. Coots grabbed another pistol and came around the front of the truck. Sam’s heart thudded heavily in his chest as he gripped the pistol with both hands and lowered it at the Bedouins.

  “Don’t try it!” he shouted, focusing on the leader.

  The armed Bedouins exchanged glances and then quickly turned and sped back down the large sand dune. Coots glared at them briefly before running the last few yards to where Kelly lay unmoving.

  * * *

  A small whimper issued from Kelly’s throat. Coolness was spreading down her brow, across her cheeks to her parched, cracked lips. Water! Droplets were dribbled between her lips and she moaned as the water reached her raw, parched throat. Sounds, very far away, penetrated her semiconscious state.

  “You’re safe, honey. It’s Sam. Just rest. Don’t fight me. You’re with me. We’re going home…”

  Sam’s words rang like joyful music in her head. She must be dreaming! She had to be. Her body felt as if it were on fire. Slowly, like mismatched jigsaw puzzle pieces, the events of the past day and night came back to her. Kelly barely had the strength to lift her lashes. It was impossible. She was aware of men’s voices, the growl of a truck engine laboring at high speed and jostling motion. Arms…strong arms were holding her. And a cool cloth was being held against her hot, burning flesh. She was dreaming. It was all a wishful dream. Her brows pulled downward and a weak cry rose in her throat. The sheik had recaptured her!

  Sam grimly caught her flailing arms, holding Kelly tightly against his chest. She struggled only briefly in her semiconscious state. A soft mewing sound came from her and it tore his heart in pieces. Coots exchanged a worried look with him, saying nothing. He was driving the flatbed for all it was worth. The hot wind tore through the opened windows, sending Kelly’s red hair into soft disarray. Sam’s blue eyes were hard and shiny with tears as he held her tightly. Her skin was feverishly hot. She was burning up. He had worked on too many desert blowouts not to recognize that Kelly had suffered a sunstroke. And it could kill her if they couldn’t get her body cooled down in time.

  “Hurry,” he growled to Coots.

  Eight

  Kelly awakened to the sounds of her own sobs. A warm, callused hand gently brushed the tears from her cheek and Kelly fought to become conscious.

  “It’s all right, honey,” Sam soothed in a reassuring tone. He had been sitting or sleeping in the chair at Kelly’s bedside for the last forty-eight hours. He glanced across the room at the doctor and nurse who had come in at his request.

  Kelly moaned, reliving the horror of the kidnapping, fighting the last effects of the powerful tranquilizing drug that the Bedouins had given her.

  “Sam…” she moaned.

  “Right here, Kelly. It’s all right. You’re safe.”

  “Oh, Sam.” With that she lapsed back into an unintelligible garble.

  He took a damp, cool cloth and gently dabbed her brow and cheeks. Anxiously, he watched as the doctor took her pulse and blood pressure. For the last two days Kelly’s life had hung in the balance. He had first thought she had only suffered a serious sunstroke.

  Instead, it was discovered in the emergency room that Kelly was also having an adverse drug reaction coupled with a drug overdose. Sam wearily rubbed his face with his free hand, as if to force back the deluge of emotions that threatened to break. He loved Kelly. That simple realization had torn his very soul apart as he watched the doctors fight for her life. And after forty-eight hours of being in a coma, she was finally regaining consciousness.

  Sam continued to stroke her brow. He had found that she was more tranquil if he continued to talk to her and touch her during that hazy state between consciousness and unconsciousness. He shot a keen look at the doctor. “What’s happening?”

  “She’s coming out of the coma, Mr. Tyler.” He allowed a brief smile. “She’s going to make it. Remain with her if you want. The nurse will call me when she becomes more coherent.”

  The relief on Sam’s face was obvious. He gazed down at Kelly, the hotness of tears stinging his burning eyes. His hand trembled slightly as he brushed it over her forehead.

  “Thank God,” he whispered unsteadily. He looked up at the doctor. “Thanks for pulling her through….” He couldn’t finish. Tears choked off the rest of his reply.

  “Only give us half the credit, Mr. Tyler. It was her will to live that tipped the balance in our favor. I’ll be back in about an hour.”

  Sam watched as they left and then returned his full attention to Kelly. Her raving was becoming intelligible; the delirium was receding.

  “I love you, Kelly Blanchard,” he whispered thickly. Reaching over, he took her hand to reassure her as she broke through the last confines of the drugs.

  * * *

  Kelly stared in the mirror that the nur
se had handed her. She carefully touched her face, which was still pink from sunburn. Had it only been a week since Sam and Coots had rescued her from Hassad’s camp? Her heart beat more quickly when she recalled becoming conscious in Sam’s arms on the way to the hospital. He had told her that they’d driven like madmen to the helicopter stationed at the blowout and then had flown the rest of the way to Abu Dhabi. And it had been Sam who was holding her hand when she finally awoke from the terrifying experience two days after that.

  Kelly’s eyes darkened. She would never forget Sam’s face that evening. His eyes were red-rimmed and the growth of his beard made his features appear gaunt and shadowed. He had been crying. Somewhere in her half dream, half nightmare state, she had heard him calling her back, calling her to his side. Kelly lowered her lashes. Had she imagined him saying that he loved her? In a pensive gesture, she drew a brush the nurse had brought through her freshly washed hair. The reddish-gold strands were finally clean of sand and grit. She never forgot his parting kiss on her chapped, cracked lips, either. He had explained that he had to get back to the blowout. That in a week he would come and visit her again. Kelly closed her eyes, remembering her reaction. She had begun to cry. Great, tearing sobs. He had gathered her up in his arms with great tenderness, rocking her back and forth. His voice was a healing balm for her injured soul and gradually, she had stopped weeping. Had she really babbled deliriously that she loved him? Sighing, Kelly had no idea whether she had imagined it all or not. Apparently the drug that Hassad’s men had used on her had had severe side effects. She was lucky to be alive.

  “Mrs. Tyler?” the nurse called softly from the door.

  Kelly lifted her chin. Mrs. Tyler? Perplexity showed in her eyes. “Yes?”

  “Your husband’s here. The doctor says you can have one visitor tonight for fifteen minutes only.”

  She opened her mouth and then shut it. Husband? Sam, her husband? What was going on? She moistened her healing lips, eager and yet frightened to see Sam. Her heartbeat rose with joy as he walked in and she met his intense cobalt gaze. Had it been five days since she had last seen him? Oh, God, he looked so handsome…so vital and alive! “Sam?” her voice quavered.