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northward distance to buttes and mountains.
    The urge flashed through her to scramble up before anyone realized what was happening and to sprint through the copse of trees to her left in a bold dash for freedom. But something told her this was not the time. They had horses and guns. And daylight.
    They would certainly find her.
    But maybe after Thunder Pass, when Zeke and Ray had gone their separate ways, and there was only Cal to contend with...
    Cal turned and saw her then. She gritted her teeth, sat up, and tossed her sleep-tousled curls from her eyes as he headed across the clearing with Zeke and Ray dogging his heels.
    “Reckon you’d best get a move on, Miss Deane. We’re headed out.” His voice was as flat as the expression in his eyes. With his brown hair combed, wearing a fresh black shirt, vest, and trousers, and with the blue neckerchief knotted around his neck he looked refreshed, tough and alert, and more than ready for a hard day’s ride. The thought flashed into her mind that he seemed to be a man who would always be ready for what life might throw at him.
    “Yep,” Ray added, rubbing his mustard yellow chin whiskers, “if you don’t get some breakfast now, you won’t have any grub till lunch.” He slapped his hat against his portly thigh. “And riding all morning sure is hard enough work without doin’ it on an empty stomach.”
    She shifted her gaze to Zeke, who was swilling coffee from a tin mug. His long, mousy face looked even thinner in the morning light than it had in the darkness, his black eyes peering sleepily out at her from over the rim of the mug.
    “Well?” Melora demanded. “Aren’t you going to put in your two cents’ worth?”
    He seemed oddly distracted. “Why, sure, Miss Deane, if you want—”
    “I don’t want.” Then Melora realized, too late, that the bedroll blanket had slipped down when she sat up. All three men were eyeing her and her sheer nightdress with decided interest.
    Her cheeks flamed as she clutched the blanket to her. “The least you barbarians could do is provide me with some decent clothes!” she yelled.
    Zeke peered at Cal. “Think maybe we should get her the stuff we brought along?”
    “Might as well. Otherwise she’ll shout the hills down.” Cal shrugged, and threw Melora one flinty glance before turning back toward his saddlebag. Deliberately ignoring her, hoping she couldn’t see his irresistible interest in her every move, he busied himself stowing various utensils and belongings in his pack and reminded himself that the less he had to do with his stunning kidnap victim, the better.
    In truth he couldn’t wait for her to get herself dressed in some decent clothes. It had been damned distracting last night, seeing her in that flimsy nightdress, but today was somehow even worse. By all rights she ought to look haggard today—pale, exhausted, and yes, damn it, frightened.
    But Melora Deane, with her flushed cheeks, her sunshine hair, and her flashing eyes, seemed every bit as defiant and willful as she had last night.
    This might not be as easy as I thought, Cal admitted to himself uneasily. If I don’t cow her into cooperation right quick, this could be a mighty long and unpleasant journey until we get where we’re going.
    He swore under his breath as he slung his pack over his shoulder and headed toward his bay horse, Rascal.
    When Melora saw Zeke carrying her rose and gray floral carpetbag and her small brass trunk, she scrambled up in disbelief, hauling the blanket with her. Well, thank heavens for small favors—she’d at least have her personal toiletries and some clothes. What very civilized kidnappers to have brought her traveling bags along, the traveling bags she’d packed to bring on her honeymoon!
    At this thought, Melora’s rage mounted until she felt she would choke on it. Before Zeke could hand the carpetbag to her, she snatched it from him, then glared as he and Ray shook their heads and chuckled.
    “Don’t you two