Captive of the Cattle Baron (Selkirk Family Ranch Book 1) Read online

  “What about Fatty Arbuckle? One wild party ruined his career.” His pacing took on additional frenzy and he put his fingers to his temples as if he had a headache.

  She rolled her eyes. “That Hollywood scandal happened almost a hundred years ago. The public today doesn’t expect you to be a saint.”

  “Oh, yes, they do. Because I played an adorable little boy on Golden Days.”

  She smirked. “I was equally adorable as your sister. We were the adorable brats of network sitcom viewing.”

  He didn’t laugh as she’d hoped.

  “I stayed out of trouble my whole life and now this,” he said.

  “The dirt they’re tossing won’t stick.”

  “If only I didn’t have to stay here and wait.” His voice rose.

  She sighed. “Only a few more days. I’ll testify, and the D.A. will drop the charges. Or the jury will exonerate you. Or the judge will dismiss the case. Or something. You’ve got good lawyers working for you.”

  He threw himself down on the end of the longest couch. “My life will never be the same again,” he moaned.

  “What about mine?” she retorted. “I was living in happy obscurity until your stalker ex caused this media frenzy by shooting himself in my house.”

  “Leslie wasn’t my ex. It was just a hookup,” he insisted.

  “Someone obviously didn’t get the message,” she said. “And now my nice quiet life as a horse whisperer is in shambles.”

  “I don’t understand why you ditched acting to clean up after horses.”

  “Horses are very intelligent and empathetic creatures. Unlike most directors and producers,” she said with a smile.

  He finally laughed a little, as she’d meant him to. “Got that right.”

  “I like horses. I stopped liking acting.”

  “But why Wyoming, when you could have stayed in California?”

  “Haven’t we had this conversation before?” She burrowed deeper into the soft leather chair. Her head still felt funny. The dizziness came and went. Amazing what one prescription allergy pill could do.

  “In L.A., nobody would have made a big deal out of what happened,” Caz said as he tugged nervously on his shirt sleeves, aligning them just so.

  She snorted. “You’d be news anywhere because your career is red hot.”

  “Once the public is convinced I’m a heartless seducer, my career will tank.”

  “Caz, that’s not going to happen. The local D.A. wants to make a name for himself, but there is no case. Leslie pulled a gun and shot himself. End of story.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, you’re right. Why am I so worried? People stalk actors all the time.”

  Dragging herself upright, she stood. She moved over to the couch, still feeling wobbly, and sat next to him. Putting one arm across his shoulders, she said, “Because you’re a good person, you feel guilty about Leslie’s unhinged behavior. But none of this is your fault.”

  “I’ve told myself that over and over. Relationships start with hookups,” he replied, jumping up. “You meet someone, you have sex, and then maybe you might begin a relationship.”

  She made a moue of distaste. “Twenty-first century romance. Another reason I moved out to where people take life slower.”

  “Don’t the local dudes try?” he stopped pacing to ask.

  “They take no for an answer when I’m riding my stallion,” she said.

  “If only Leslie hadn’t followed me here,” he fretted.

  ***

  After two hours of trying to calm Caz down or distract him with little success, Addie left his suite. He’d finally taken his anti-anxiety medicine. When they’d worked together as kids on the TV show, Caz was always anxious. He wanted to be perfect. He was still hypersensitive to criticism despite his grown-up success in a hit television action series.

  She couldn’t eliminate Caz’s anxiety, but at least her testimony would end this nightmare. No crime had been committed, after all. Unless shooting yourself was a crime in Wyoming. Maybe it was. If so, Leslie Tone probably would have a choice of jail time or mental health treatment.

  She cautiously checked the corridor. No tabloid reporters were in sight, but she didn’t want to risk the elevator again and walk out into a lobby full of paparazzi. She headed for the exit stairs.

  In the stair shaft, she got that shaky feeling again. She grasped the banister tightly as she struggled down the several flights. The lunch Caz ordered had made her feel better, but now the dizziness had returned.

  The hotel didn’t have many floors, but the trip down the steps seemed to drag on. Unlike the paneled hotel corridors, the stairs were utilitarian concrete and steel surrounded by painted cinderblock walls. They offered no comfort. She was lightheaded and exhausted. Not a good combo for driving back to the ranch. She should find a place to rest. She should return to Caz’s suite and ask to use his second bedroom for a nap. No, if tabloid reporters were watching, that wouldn’t look good. She was Caz’s friend. There had never been anything else between them.

  Besides, she didn’t feel strong enough to retrace her steps back up to his suite. Maybe she could rest unnoticed in her vehicle.

  The ground floor exit door left her in a service corridor. It also lacked the fancy wooden paneling and sconces made of fake antlers that decorated the public areas of the hotel. The walls were painted a simple white, and the floor was linoleum. At one end, a steel door had a small window that looked like a two-way mirror. It offered a comprehensive view of the lobby.

  She peeked through it, and her heart sank. The reception area teemed with reporters, reporters who had recognized her from her TV fame a decade ago despite her low-key western clothing and lack of makeup.

  She turned in the other direction. Even walking to the second door was an effort. It opened to the hotel garage, which was on ground level. She went through the door, closing it quietly after her, and began searching for her car.

  A shout came from the garage’s entrance. “There’s Adrienne Jelleff!”

  She ducked, then dodged behind a concrete post and kept moving. Feeling dizzier than ever, she paused to catch her breath behind a large black SUV. Running footsteps and shouts echoed off the concrete. The reporters could be coming from any direction. Desperately, she tore at the SUV’s back door handle. It opened, and she tumbled in. She pulled a blanket over herself and hid.

  The footsteps and the shouting voices came nearer. Her heart beat fast. Someone opened the driver’s door. She was cornered.

  “No, sir, I didn’t see anyone.”

  Indistinct words. Then the reply. “I’d like to help, but a guest is waiting for this vehicle.”

  A hotel employee, then.

  He hopped in and started the engine. Only a few seconds later, he stopped the vehicle.

  A new voice spoke. “The owner’s getting some coffee for the road, Jake. Park it on the side for now.” In a few seconds, the driver had parked and exited the SUV, slamming the door.

  Was she safe to leave now? The SUV was probably at the hotel’s main entrance. She’d have nowhere to hide if she climbed out immediately. Perhaps if she waited a minute or two, the reporters would stop acting like a pack of deranged hounds. She had a little time before the car owner came out.

  Her head hurt. She was very tired. She closed her eyes.

  ***

  Baron drove the deserted hill road and considered his situation. The trip hadn’t panned out. Because of the ranch, he’d had to pass up opportunities for new geology assignments. He’d had no luck finding someone to run interference for him with Paula. The only memorable moment of his visit to Jackson had been the blonde in the elevator. Too bad about her.

  Usually the long drive was restorative. Outside the town, which often was overrun by tourists, the peaceful and mostly empty Wyoming countryside was a pleasure to behold. Hills gave way to less rugged territory, and the dark green fir trees to shorter, paler scrub as he drove south. He seldom encountered more than a few ot
her vehicles on the road, and there never was the kind of traffic he experienced on Jackson’s few but congested streets.

  Today his thoughts weren’t calmed by the scenery, as they dwelled on the situation awaiting him. He had the sole responsibility for running the family’s vast ranch, including roundup. What was to have been a temporary fill-in had dragged on for a year, with no end in sight. He ought to suck it up and keep on doing his duty, but he was restive. The ranch hands didn’t like to obey his orders, yet his father didn’t do anything to help long distance. To keep peace in his family, Baron also had to allow his sister’s frequent visits, and along with her, Paula. Tess had been in bad shape lately, drinking way too much. Paula acted like her keeper, and he supposed he should feel grateful since Tess wouldn’t listen to him. But then Paula turned around and chased him. He wasn’t interested, and he doubted she really was. Paula often disparaged the ranch, saying it was too remote from civilization.

  Although how remote was a place with its own airplane and landing strip? Not very. When he needed to go somewhere in a hurry, he had no problem. But he liked the drive to Jackson Hole. It had some of the most beautiful natural scenery in the world.

  Beautiful scenery reminded him again of that woman. Damn. He shouldn’t have left her at that suite door. Nothing good had waited for her inside, he was convinced. A drug dealer, maybe? She’d been so helpless, but determined. He should have stepped up and saved her.

  The highway was deserted the whole way. Usually, he played music, but today he wasn’t in the mood. A small thunk came from the back of the vehicle. He checked the rearview mirror. Nothing unusual that he could see.

  There. There was a sound again. A scraping noise. Was it coming from the luggage area?

  He pulled the SUV to the side of the road and shut the engine. Could an animal have somehow gotten in while the SUV was garaged? He’d hardly looked in the vehicle when he tossed his case into the back seat.

  He unlocked the glove compartment and retrieved his pistol. After slowly stepping down to the pavement, he walked around to the back of his SUV. In one smooth movement, he opened the gate and pointed his gun.

  Wrapped in his emergency blanket, the beautiful woman from the hotel stared up at him.

  Chapter 2

  “Would you consider lowering your piece?” Addie asked the man towering over her, holding what was no doubt a loaded gun. This was the west. Men didn’t point unless they were prepared to shoot. “I’m unarmed,” she said, very slowly pulling her hands from beneath the blanket, trying not to freak out at the danger she was in.

  He dropped the arm holding the pistol.

  “What the hell are you doing in my SUV?”

  She took a breath then held it as he stared at her. Where to start? “Uh, it’s complicated. I fell asleep.”

  “Drugs?”

  “What?”

  “You were loopy,” he said, frowning. “In the hotel. Your eyes were dilated. Still are. What drug are you strung out on?”

  She shook her head. “No. You don’t understand.”

  “Don’t deny the truth.” He stashed his pistol in his belt behind his back. He leaned in and pulled her out. She stumbled trying to get her balance. The dizziness was still there.

  “You’re still riding the high, whatever it is,” he said.

  He took her stumble as proof she was under the influence of illegal drugs. She wanted to argue, but the threat of fainting was too near.

  “You’d better sit up front.” He marched her to the passenger side of his vehicle. After he opened the door, he lifted her toward the seat, acting as if her weight was nothing. He paused with her in his arms. Their glances connected. Was that anger in his expression, or something else? She shivered. Did he intend to kiss her? Why did she keep thinking that? Did she want him to kiss her? She was in big trouble here, but her body was sending signals as though she was on a date with a lover.

  He set her down on the seat, backed away, and stared at her. He shook it off and firmly snapped the seat harness over her.

  “Stay put,” he commanded, and slammed her door.

  When had a man picked her up like that? Never. When had a man she was attracted to looked at her as if he wanted to devour her? Never.

  She shivered again. She felt so weak. She rested her head limply on the headrest. Behind her came the noise of him throwing the blanket inside and shutting the back gate. He moved around to the driver’s seat and got in, depositing his gun in the side pocket of his door.

  When he turned on the motor, she roused herself to ask, “Where are you taking me?”

  ***

  Anywhere you’ll let me, was his thought, but he didn’t answer aloud. She was still loaded with whatever she’d done to harm herself. Or someone had given her a second dose? The man in the hotel suite? It had been a man, Baron was sure. Once he had her safely at his ranch, he’d see to it that she cleaned up. He could save her.

  “Where are we going?” she asked again, more urgency in her voice.

  “I’m heading home.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “My spread is about two hundred miles south of Jackson Hole.”

  “Wait. How do I get back?”

  He looked over at her briefly, seeing the worry on her face. Fear for her safety with him, or about losing contact with her dealer?

  “I need to go back,” she repeated.

  “This isn’t a bus service,” he replied. “I’m nearly home. You chose to come along for the ride.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “No, I didn’t. I ran away—” She caught herself. “I mean, I was dizzy. I had to rest. I didn’t intend to stow away and take a trip.”

  “Maybe you didn’t.” He shrugged. “But we’re more than halfway there already. I’m not turning back at this point.”

  “Why not?” Exasperation tinged her voice. “We don’t know each other. You can drop me in the nearest town, and I’ll figure it out.”

  “There aren’t any towns between here and my place. I’m not letting you off just anywhere to wander around in a drug-induced stupor.”

  “You have the wrong idea about me. I took an allergy pill. That’s all.”

  Maybe she was telling the truth, or maybe she’d made more than one wrong choice in her life to be in such a condition. He didn’t want to let her sink into self-destruction. The calm of his ranch and the help of his housekeeper would straighten up this beauty.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  She pouted.

  “Tell me your name. Don’t be stubborn.” He took his eyes off the winding road for a second to look at her again. She had her arms folded across her chest.

  “Addie,” she said.

  “Just Addie? What about a last name?”

  “Addie Smith,” she said, her intonation making it clear that was not her real last name.

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms. Smith.”

  She replied. “I’m not happy to make yours, under the circumstances. And anyway, don’t you have a name?”

  “Baron Selkirk.”

  She stared at him. “You’re a baron? You have a title?”

  “My mother has a sense of humor. She decided a cattle baron should be named Baron.”

  She smothered a laugh. “Okay, you’re as American as I am. Then you have no excuse for not honoring my civil rights.”

  He glanced over at her again. She looked so cute when she thought she’d won an argument. He wouldn’t let her fall back into the clutches of whoever did this to her.

  “This is a one-way drive,” he said. “My housekeeper will take charge of you. You’ll return to your home, I promise.”

  “I should be reassured, I suppose.” There was sarcasm in her voice. “If I can believe you.”

  He stopped the SUV in the middle of the road, and turned in her direction. She sat up stiffly, as if steeling herself against a blow.

  “Addie Smith, or Jones, or whatever, you have my solemn word that you are in no physical d
anger from me.” He searched her face for any hint that she believed him. What he saw was caution. Smart woman.

  “I won’t leave you here in the middle of nowhere, defenseless,” he said. “Once we’re at the ranch, and you’ve had a chance to detox, then we’ll talk about getting you back to Jackson Hole.”

  Before he could start the engine, she was clawing at the door. The handle didn’t budge.

  “Custom child lock system for my dog,” he explained, as she continued to wrestle with it. She cast him a fraught glance.

  “You’re safe with me,” he repeated. “But I won’t let you hurt yourself.”

  Her voice came out strangled. “This is wrongful imprisonment. It’s a crime.”

  “I want to help you get sober.”

  “You have a hell of a nerve judging me. You don’t know anything about me.”

  He wanted to know everything there was to know about Addie so-not-Smith. He could turn the vehicle around and take her back to Jackson Hole. The drive wasn’t that long. But he didn’t want to. He’d found her and he wanted to keep her.

  ***

  Frustrated, Addie stared at her gallant captor, the man determined to save her from herself. He paid attention to the road, although the ribbon of highway hardly merited attention. Endless desert. Not a single road crossing theirs. She’d never been to this southern part of Wyoming. It looked empty. Sand or some kind of light-colored dirt supported scraggly bushes and shorter grasses and weeds. No trees. She saw no houses. Not even abandoned industrial buildings. There were no paved roads crossing the highway. No dirt tracks leading off it to hidden ranches. Nothing.

  Despite her attempt to bail and her big words, she didn’t want him to dump her at the nearest gas station in the middle of nowhere. She had a wallet in her pocket, but a credit card and forty dollars wouldn’t necessarily get her back home with ease.

  A wave of faintness washed over her. She leaned her head back, unable to keep it upright. Finally, the dizziness passed, but every inch of her body felt weirdly weak. How could she hurl herself at him and wrestle him for control of the SUV when every other minute she was on the edge of collapse?