Always You by Jill Gregory Page B

to hurt me,” she said slowly, her face paling as the truth hit her. “You’re doing it to hurt Wyatt. Why? ”
    Cal regarded her in silence a moment. Then he shrugged, but not before she’d seen the taut anger register in his face at the mention of Wyatt’s name. “That doesn’t concern you.”
    “Doesn’t concern me? What in hell are you talking about?” Unconsciously she repeated her father’s often used phrase. “You drag me off from my home, from my little sister, from my wedding—and you say it doesn’t concern me?”
    “My reasons are my own business,” he rejoined coolly, and pushed his hat farther back on his head. “The only thing you need to remember is that if you cooperate, don’t make any trouble, and don’t try any more stupid attempts to escape, you’ll be fine. But let me ask you a question.”
    “Can I stop you?”
    He ignored this and stepped closer, watching her face. “Do you think your father will set up a search party for you, or will he leave it to Wyatt? Or will they join together?”
    All the color drained from Melora’s face. Her lips were dry. Suddenly she remembered that odd comment he’d made last night at the ranch, about not disturbing her father while he was smuggling her out of the house.
    “My father is dead,” she whispered.
    Now it was Cal’s turn to stare, to go still and white as a statue. “Craig Deane? He’s dead?”
    She saw the shock register, saw his sharp intake of breath.
    “I swear I didn’t know,” he muttered, and paced away from her, then hurried back. “I thought you were... living under his roof, that you—do you mean you’re running that ranch by yourself?”
    “More or less. And I’m also responsible for taking care of my little sister,” she informed him bitingly. Still, she was puzzled by his reaction. He looked stunned. And upset. “What difference does it make to you?” she asked stiffly.
    “Maybe if I’d known you were living at the ranch all alone, without any male protection, I wouldn’t have taken you.” He shook his head ruefully. “Despite what you think, I’m not the kind of bully who goes around picking on lone women. But I thought—Oh, hell, it doesn’t matter now.”
    “Yes, it does. Because you can still make things right—by letting me go.”
    “No. Sorry, but I can’t do that.” His expression was grim. “Now that this thing is started, I’ve got to see it through to the end. I reckon there’s no turning back, Melora, not for either of us.”
    He took her arm. “Come on. Time to break camp.”
    “I can walk back myself if you don’t mind.” She shook off his hand. “But I’m not going anywhere until you tell me exactly and in detail what this is all about.” Sticking out her chin, she kicked at the dirt for emphasis and smiled tightly when some of it landed on his boot. “I won’t give you any peace until you tell me why you kidnapped me and what you have against Wyatt, so you might as well do it now rather than later. You see, it runs in the Deane blood never to give up.”
    His scowl told her he was losing patience. Good, she decided. The sooner he lost patience, the sooner he’d just give in and tell her what she needed to know. She’d learned long ago that with her indomitable will most people found it easier to placate her than to oppose her. She estimated that this idiotic Cal with whatever lame-brained scheme against Wyatt he was hatching would do the same.
    “My fiancé happens to be one of the finest men I’ve ever known”—she went on, tossing her head—“and if you think I’m just going to stand by and let you continue with whatever low-down, dirty plan you have in mind for him, you’re dead wrong! I won’t let you use me to hurt Wyatt. I’ll stop you dead in your tracks.”
    To judge by the icy mask of his features and the glitter in his eyes, she’d touched a nerve. And when he spoke, his voice held a distinctly unpleasant edge that further confirmed it. “Don’t