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Authors: Natasha Stories

BOOK: Rustled
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“Why didn’t I
see you?” Something was odd about this story.

“You were out
cold. I hated to leave you, but it wasn’t happenin’”

“I didn’t
realize I got knocked out. I was running the engine off and on until I ran out
of gas.” I meant for him to understand that I didn’t believe him, but he didn’t
seem to notice.

“That’s good.
Condition I found you in by the time I got back, I thought you were gone.
Probably woulda been if you hadn’t been doin’ that.”

“So, how long
did it take you?”

“Coupla
hours.”

“Really. I
thought I was in that ditch for several hours.” My voice was flat.

“Time plays
tricks on you when you’ve hurt your head. Here, come to think of it, I’d better
check your pupils.”

I smirked at
him. “If I had a concussion, it’d be too late by now. I’ve already been
asleep.”

“I think
that’s a myth, that you’re supposed to keep someone awake for a possible
concussion.”

“What’re you,
a doctor now, Mr. Cattle Rustler?” I used my most sarcastic tone. He looked
surprised, and then shook his head.

“Nope. Just a
cattle rustler.” His eyes were hooded, but again I caught the hint of amusement
in his tone.

I was sorry I
had reminded him. What if he had a herd of stolen cattle around here? Was I
going to be in the way? He could just hit me over the head with something,
maybe one of those iron frying pans, and put me back in the SUV to die. No one
would be the wiser. I decided to guard my words better for the immediate
future. It looked like I was stuck here with him, and the last thing I wanted
was to annoy him. I tried to smile at him, but the effect must not have been
what I intended, since he cocked his head and frowned slightly. I looked away.

“I’m kind of
tired, think I’ll go back to sleep, if you don’t mind.” I ventured.

“Nah, go
ahead. I’ll turn in after a while.”

“Um, do you
have to sleep in this bed?”

“Do you see
another one?”

Okay, so he’d
be sleeping with me again. I hoped he would at least keep his underwear on.

§

I woke to the
smell of beans and something else. Burnt toast? Russ wasn
’t in the bed beside me, and with no external cues, I didn’t know
how long I had slept or what time of day it was.

“Hey, Russ?”

“Good mornin’
Sunshine.” Oh, so now I was Sunshine. Well, he could call me whatever he
wanted, as long as we got out of here soon.

“So, it’s
morning. How long have we been here?”

“Let’s see,
you went in the ditch just before dark day before yesterday. So, about forty-two
hours, I’d say. Give or take.”

“Don’t you
have a watch?”

“Nope. Got no
use for one. You don’t have one, either,” he pointed out. That was true, and it
was for the same reason. My days were regulated by the older women, including
my step-mother, who was only about eight years older than I. It was
infuriating. I dragged my thoughts back to the present, intent on staying free
from that place.

“So, has the
blizzard stopped?” Hopeful.

“Nope.”

“How do you
know? There aren’t any windows. Why aren’t there any windows in this cabin?”

“There are.
See the little quilts on the walls?” I looked around, seeing a couple of small,
square, thick patchwork quilts that I had dismissed as decor for some reason,
even though nothing else decorated the spare little room.

“Yeah?”

“They cover
the windows in the winter. Otherwise, we couldn’t keep this place warm. No
insulation in a log cabin.”

“So, you,
what, looked outside while I was asleep?”

“No need to.
Hush a minute and listen.” I did as he said, and perceived a sound that
reminded me of a far-away railway train’s whistle. “Hear the wind?”

“Is that what
it is?”

“Yeah. Long as
that’s blowin’, you can’t see ten feet in front of you. Not safe to be out in
it, you could get lost trying to find the road. Best to stay here until it dies
down.”

“What is that
awful smell?”

Russ laughed,
“That’s your breakfast, Kitten, and if you don’t want it, I’ll eat it and be
glad for it. This cabin was due for re-stockin’, so the selection isn’t what
you might call gourmet.” He brought me a plate with a piece of toast smothered
by canned pork’n’beans. Kind of strange for breakfast food, but edible. Yep,
the toast was burnt. Guess it wasn’t easy to get it just right over a
wood-burning stove. I kept my complaints to myself.

“What are we
supposed to do until the storm dies down?”

“Well, you’re
gonna rest. You had an ordeal and the best thing under the circumstances is to sleep
as much as possible. I’m gonna keep watch while I’m awake, and sleep when I
can. Maybe later I can rustle up a deck of cards and we can play gin rummy or
somethin’.”

There it was
again, that word. Rustle. And, if no one could move in that blizzard, what
would he be keeping watch on? Or for? I started thinking again about his
unlikely story of seeing my car go into the ditch and just leaving me there
while he went for a different vehicle. Couldn’t he have broken a window and
gotten me out? He had to have been able to carry me, otherwise how would he
have gotten me into his car, or out of it and into the cabin for that matter.
But what was his reason to lie, if that’s what it was?

The more I
thought about it, the more unlikely it seemed. He had already told me he was a
cattle rustler, so I didn’t have any reason to think he was a good guy, but if
he wasn’t, why would he rescue me in the first place?

“Hey, Kitten,
did you go back to sleep?”

“No, just
thinking.”

“Don’t hurt
your brain doin’ too much of that. Thinkin’ could get you in big trouble.”

What the heck
did that mean? I was puzzling over whether it was a warning to mind my own
business when I did go back to sleep. At least, that was the last thing I
remembered.

Chapter 4

I needed to pee again. The cabin was lit
with the glow from the stove and from that damn lantern overhead. Russ was
asleep beside me, the blanket pulled over him, so I couldn’t take it with me,
even though it was pretty cold when I got out from under. I scurried for the
bathroom and back, shivering as I climbed under the covers.

Hesitantly, I
thought about how warm it would be up next to Russ. I scooted a little closer.
Russ sighed in his sleep and turned over, facing me now. Good, another chance
to really observe him. I stared at his face for quite a while. It was really a
very nice face.

Rugged, with
tanned skin and a few faint sun-grin wrinkles around his eyes. A dimple in the
middle of his square chin, all but obscured by the stubble that was beginning
to grow there. His lips were full and nicely shaped. Altogether a very pleasing
face. I had to admit, too, that his body was great. I had seen enough the times
he got out of bed before his clothes were dry, to know that he was no stranger
to hard work.

My eyes went
out of focus as I recalled that hard-muscled ass, and the flip side…well, I
hadn’t seen anything as gorgeous as that cock in all my short life, as I
remembered it. The fear and horror I’d felt the first time I laid eyes on him
had been dispelled, and in their place were curiosity and attraction, though
still some distrust. My cheeks warmed at the thought.

I knew
something about this, learned about it in history before Mom sent me to Bethel
City. I thought it was called Stockholm Syndrome. Because he hadn’t hurt me, I
was beginning to bond with Russ. I would have to guard against that. My
thoughts returned to the puzzle of why he had rescued me and was protecting me
from the blizzard. I had to be in the way of whatever criminal enterprise he
was running, couldn’t possibly be of any value—unless...

What if he was
a bounty hunter? That would explain a lot. He rescued me because the Prophet
had put a price on my head, had to be. Maybe that’s why his rescue story didn’t
add up, although I couldn’t quite make the new theory work for the timeline,
either. Maybe that was also why he hadn’t pressed his advantage sexually? I
needed to be intact to be of any value in Bethel City.

Well, that was
going to be a surprise. I’d lost my virginity before going there. I felt like
punching him, but I doubted I’d have a chance against him even if I fought
dirty, and there might be a better way to get out of this.

My eyes
strayed to the bulge in Russ’s pants, visible because I had thrown the quilt
back to look at his body. Would he be vulnerable to seduction, maybe let me go
if he liked what I did for him? I was thinking it may be worth a try, even
though I wasn’t really very experienced. The fumbling of the high school
boyfriend who had relieved me of my virginity didn’t bear any resemblance to
the men in those sexy books that I’d found buried deep in Mom’s closet and read,
but that reading would at least give me some ideas.

Yeah, this
could work! It would also make me useless for the Prophet’s plan, so they’d
leave me alone. The whole idea was growing on me. But, how would I go about it?
I was still staring at his crotch when Russ woke up. His startling blue eyes
widened in surprise.

“Aren’t you
cold with the blanket off like that?”

“I, uh, I must
have forgotten to put it back on when I came back to bed.” Lame, lame. He was
gonna call me on that one, for sure.

“Charity, you
need to stay warm. Hypothermia’s tricky, and all kinds of problems could happen
that we don’t have the resources to treat. Please stay under the quilt. Are you
cold now?”

Startled at
his insistence on keeping me warm, as well as the disappearance of his lazy
drawl, I was too truthful. “No, not really.”

Damn, that was
a missed opportunity. But I’d remember it for later. Maybe I could get him to
wrap himself around me again. Even as I had the thought, my heart sped up. What
I was planning was downright wicked, and I’d probably go straight to hell, but
that was better than back to Bethel City. I’d take my chances.

Russ tucked
the quilt in around me anyway, but got up himself to stoke the fire again and
look at the dwindling supply of foodstuffs for something for lunch.

“How about
chicken noodle soup? That ought to warm you up inside, too,” he said.

I didn’t care.
None of what was in those cans was going to taste good, but it was nourishment.
“Sure. You called me Charity,” I accused.

Russ turned
around to look at me with those blue, blue eyes under raised eyebrows. “I guess
I did. I guess you’re not acting like a wildcat anymore.”

I grinned. “If
I did, would it make you call me Kitten again?”

Russ turned
back to the stove and the soup he was stirring, but I heard him mutter, “I will
never understand the female of the species.” Good. If I could keep him
guessing, I could probably sneak up on him with a seduction attempt.

§

After lunch,
Russ searched the meager contents of the cabin for a deck of cards, as
promised. I couldn’t have been more surprised when he actually found one.
What
is this place
, I wondered.

“Russ, what is
this cabin for? Surely you don’t live here all the time. Why is there food,
water and wood here?”

“You could
probably call it a line cabin. Here in Wyoming, the cattle ranches are too big
to ride across in one day on horseback. When the cowpokes go out to round up
the herds for winter, they need a place to stay overnight. The ranchers keep
them stocked.”

“Oh. Lucky you
knew where it was, huh?”

“I suppose it
was.”

I thought some
more about his story. He had gone for a vehicle with a winch. Where? What was
he driving when he saw me go in, if that was true? And would some of those
‘cowpokes’ or the rancher come around before the storm ended, and see the smoke
from the stove maybe?

Should I wait
on my plan, hope for someone to rescue me before I had to sleep with Russ to
rescue myself? Ha, that was silly. I’d already ‘slept’ with him. My ass could
still feel the warm imprint of his rigid shaft. Actually, that was kind of a
turn-on. Interesting.

Russ was
shuffling the cards, over and over, patiently waiting for me to stop
woolgathering and get ready to play. I guess he thought my brain was still half-frozen,
which could prove useful. I allowed my eyes to come into focus on his face and
gave him my brightest smile. “Are we going to play or not?” I wanted to see
which way he took that.

“Sure,” he
said, crinkling his eyes at me as he smiled back. “Wanta play gin, or somethin’
else?” Okay, we’d play it straight, for now. He was thinking of the cards, and
that would use up some time.

“Gin’s fine.”

“What do you
want to play to?”

“One hundred
points is traditional, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I’m
thinkin’ that’s gonna make for a short game.”

“Oh, you do,
huh? I happen to be a gin rummy card shark,” I boasted. With little other
entertainment approved in Bethel City besides reading, card games were
something that families could do together.

“Well, then,
let’s go to five hundred.”

“Go for it.”
Famous last words.

We whiled away
the afternoon, sitting cross-legged on the bed with the quilt wrapped and
tucked around me, and Russ looking awfully darned cute in his jeans and flannel
cowboy shirt. When we reached five hundred points, with Russ winning handily, I
asked if it was time for dinner yet.

“We could have
some dinner now, if you want to go to sleep early. It’s only about five
o’clock, though, if you want to wait a couple of hours.”

“How the heck
do you know what time it is?”

“I just do.
Got an internal clock, I guess.”

“Well, I’m
hungry now.” I sounded like a five-year-old, even to myself. But I
was
hungry.

“Okay, I’ll
fix us some of that stew, that okay?”

“Whatever.
Hey, Russ? Would you move that lantern somewhere else? It gives me the willies
up there.”

Russ jerked
his eyes up to the lantern. “It does? I keep it there because anywhere else it
shines in your eyes. But if it bothers you…”

“It really
does. I don’t mind if you turn it down, but please put it somewhere besides
right over the bed.”

“No problem,
Kitten.” Oh, now I was Kitten again. Apparently making demands was considered ‘spittin’
and scratchin’’.

While he
heated the stew, I took the opportunity to scoot into the tiny bathroom with a
basin of warm water and a bit of soap. He must have done the same at some
point, because he smelled great, a mixture of the soap, a spicy scent that
surely wasn’t cologne, and woodsmoke. But I was beginning to get ripe.

§

Our meager
meal finished and the dishes neatly washed and put away, Russ asked if I wanted
to play more cards. Mischievously, I answered, “Strip poker.” And was rewarded
by his hearty laugh.

“Lookin’ to
get naked with me again little girl?” Hmmm, that was a new one, and that was
exactly what I was looking for, but I wasn’t going to admit it.

“Just
kidding.”

“Be careful
what you kid about, Kitten. But no, I don’t think strip poker is a good idea.
You need to stay warm, remember?”

“Yes, Russ.
Hey, how about Truth or Dare?”

“You’ve gotta
be kiddin’.”

“Come on,
it’ll be fun.”

Reluctantly,
he shuffled the cards and let me cut them. Then he told me to draw first. A
king. His draw turned over a five. “Truth or Dare,” I said.

“I’ll take
Dare, but it can’t be anything dangerous, like sending me out into that storm.”

“I dare you
to—I don’t know, crap. Why didn’t you choose Truth?” I asked. I could feel a
child-like petulance steal over my face.

“Because you
don’t believe anything I say anyway.”

My mouth
dropped, I couldn’t help it. How had he known that?

“Everything
you think is written on your face, plain as day,” he said as if in answer. Oh,
lord, now he was reading my mind.

“No, just your
face.”

“Goddammit!” I
cried, piqued beyond my control. Russ grinned at me. I picked up the deck of
cards and flipped them at him, scattering them all over the bed and beyond to
the floor.

“Now, what did
you want to go and do that for,” he complained. I crossed my arms, frowned at
him and refused to speak. How was I supposed to gain the upper hand if he knew
everything I was thinking? Then I felt my face grow warm. What if he knew…? I
shot him a quick glance, but he was busy picking up the cards. I’d better cut
my losses and just go to sleep, I thought. I turned my back on him and
straightened out, the whole quilt still tucked around me.

§

I didn
’t wake when Russ rearranged the blanket so he could get under it,
but I did when I felt his weight against my back. My eyes flew open to a dark
room, lit only by the glow of the hot stove. Russ must have put the lantern
out. I stilled my heart, which had jumped with alarm when Russ rolled into me,
so that I could listen for the wind that signaled the blizzard was still in
full storm mode. Yes, there it was, though fainter than before, I thought.

Russ’s even
breath was closer, and I knew without looking that he was asleep. What had
caused him to roll into me, when he had been so careful since we got our
clothes back? Fully awake now, I shifted a little to turn over so that I could
see him. It took long minutes for me to turn fully without waking him, shifting
a bit, then lying still until his stirring stopped, only to do it again.
Unfortunately, my dress was now twisted around me uncomfortably, but I could do
nothing about that without waking Russ.

Finally, I was
facing him, his head resting against my upper arm and our torsos pressed close
together. My breath quickened as I shifted my hips closer to him. I couldn’t
make a connection, because he was too low in the bed and taller than I. To fit
perfectly, I would need to creep a little lower, but could I do it while still
not waking him? I lay still, trying to decide.

Before I could
do anything, Russ shifted again, and now his head was on my shoulder, and one
arm thrown across my waist. Now I was trapped, and there would be no more
maneuvering on my part until he rolled over again.

I lay there,
wide awake, savoring the feel of his warm weight against me. There in the dark,
with his soft breathing providing the background music, I considered my life. I
was a grown woman, no longer under the control of my father or mother as long
as I could stay ahead of the RALDS who would drag me back to Bethel City
against my will. I knew other women had escaped, and they were left alone after
they went public with their ordeals. My education was shit except for my
reading, but maybe I could get a GED, then go to community college. I wasn’t
stupid, I could make a life for myself.

And then,
would it be beyond the realm of the possible that I could have a man of my own,
who loved only me and didn’t try to control my every action, word and thought?
Someone like Russ, maybe, if only he weren’t a criminal. Someone who was
good-looking without being pretty, strong, competent and desirous of protecting
me from the big, bad world? I was drifting into sleep again when the face on
that dream man became Russ’s, and when his arm tightened around me, I turned
into him, threw my arm over his shoulder and clung to him, with the most
delicious sensations of pure, unsullied happiness.

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