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around her and blocked her path. “Just where do you think you’re going, Miss O’Sullivan?”
    She darted to one side, but he blocked her again. She screamed at him, turned and darted up into the rocks.
    “Oh, Abby, give it up. You can’t get away.” Davy huffed out a breath. Every minute wasted here allowed Silver Feather and the others to gain on him. With a curse, he dismounted and ran after her. He heard a grunt and then the sound of falling rock. As he rounded the boulder, he saw her sprawled on the ground. Dirt smudged her face, and a trickle of blood ran down her chin.
    He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. She kicked and thrashed her body viciously. With her screaming in his ear, he marched back to his horse and deposited her on the ground. “Where’s your horse? Why did you try to escape on foot?”
    “I don’t have to talk to you.”
    “No, I guess not. Get up. We’ve got to find your horse.”
    “No, I won’t get up. You can just…shoot me. I don’t care.” She swiped the sleeve of her shirt across her eyes.
    “Dammit, Abby!” He grabbed the ropes that held her hands and pulled her to her feet.
    “Ouch!”
    He picked her up and lifted her into his saddle. Without speaking, he grabbed the reins, knelt and studied the ground. When he found the other animal’s tracks, a smug smile touched his lips. Five minutes later, he found her horse grazing in a patch of grass.
    But he’d lost valuable time.
    He settled her on the horse, then vaulted into his saddle. “I was going to untie your hands, but now you’ve got to ride all trussed up.”
    “You bastard!”
    “Let’s go.”
    “Where are we going?”
    “Somewhere safe.”
    She huffed out a breath. “There’s no place in Texas which is safe for you.”
    “Oh, yes, there is. The Llano Estacado .”
    Her eyes widened, and she wrinkled her forehead. “But, but that’s...Comanche territory.”
    “Yeah, my mother’s people.” He waited for the reaction he always received when he spoke of his Comanche heritage.
    “I thought you might have some Indian blood,” she said softly.
    “Yeah, I’m a half-breed. But don’t worry, it doesn’t rub off.” He heard the bitterness in his own voice.
    She glared at him. “I’m not worried.” She ran her hand across her mouth. “I knew a Comanche boy once—a long time ago. His name was—”
    “Running Wolf.”
    Her mouth gaped open. “How did you know?”
    He angled in the saddle and looked at her.
    Recognition dawned in her eyes. “It’s you. Ohmigod, it’s you.”
    “Yeah. Mount up. Let’s ride.”

Chapter Four
    When Davy stopped in front of her, Abby blew out a sigh of relief. Her exhaustion seemed a tangible thing, sucking the life from her body. He had taken the same circuitous route as when he’d first kidnapped her—up and down ravines and rocky mountainsides, following streams and backtracking often. Again, she had no idea where she was.
    The irony of the situation brought a wry smile to her lips. Her childhood friend and her kidnapper were one and the same. Gone was the happy, easy-going boy of her youth, replaced by a cold-hearted stranger who meant her harm. Memories of their time together surfaced. She’d enjoyed his company and had always felt safe in his presence. Even now, knowing his identity made her feel less vulnerable.
    Life sure had a way of ambushing you.
    He uncapped the canteen, took a gulp of water and then handed it to her. She drank deeply, then wiped her mouth with her sleeve. “Davy, can’t we stop for a while? I can’t ride another mile.”
    He shook his head. “Sorry, but we’ve got to keep moving. I want to get there before nightfall.”
    “Where?” When he didn’t answer, she sighed heavily. “I want to go home. Please, please let me go. If you let me go, you can go away and be safe. If you persist in this madness, they’ll kill you.”
    “Sorry, Abby. Not until I get my questions answered.”
    “What questions? You never told