Mystic Mountains

she flinched he dropped his hand, his eyes filled with tenderness.
    "He knocked me out . . .”
    Isabella saw him swallow hard. Taking her sore wrists in his hands he scowled down at them, cursing under his breath. Isabella flinched again and withdrew them.
    Without another word he picked her up. Carrying her across the room, he kicked at the door, clearing the way as he strode out. The dim passageway was crammed with interested onlookers. Isabella buried her face in the comforting warmth of Tiger 's shirtfront. She could hear the hammering of his heart beneath her cheek. If I die now I'll be content, she thought, then berated herself for her foolishness.
    "Out of the way," Tiger shouted. "Surely to God one of you no-hopers knew what that brute was doing to the woman ! Have you all sunk so low you couldn't help someone in trouble?" 
    The crowd moved aside, some offering mild excuses. Isabella glimpsed a few painted faces and bloodshot eyes as he carried her out to the street.
    "Bella." Dougal's shout was filled with relief and joy. Lifting her head from its safe refuge she saw her friend seated at the front of the wagon, his eyes bleak. "Are you all right, love? We were worried out of our minds. What did that bastard do to you?"
    Tiger set her down gently on a pile of sacking in the back of the wagon, then climbed in to sit opposite her. "Leave it now, Dougal," he said, and Isabella would have sworn his voice quivered. "She 's safe." He cursed again, his mouth set grimly. "But Malloy will pay dearly for this day's work or my name's not Tiger Carstairs. Let's get her home."
    "Right, Tiger." Dougal made a clicking sound and slapped the reins. The grey gelding moved off. Isabella sat with should ers hunched. Every part of her trembled as if with an ague. She'd gotten used to the feel of the soft whisper of her petticoat and missed it. She pressed her knees together. The air and sunlight stung the raw skin at her wrists and ankles.
    "How did you know where to find me?" she whispered. She couldn 't look Tiger in the eye. All she kept thinking was how she must have looked when he burst in and found her with her body exposed.
    Out of the corner of her eye she saw that he looked ahead, avoiding her eyes too. "I was in the district." His voice sounded strangely taut. "Thelma got worried about you when you didn 't return home at the expected time. Luckily Dougal went home to pick up something for Gillie and Thelma sent him looking for me. Dougal knew where to find me."
    I 'll bet, Isabella thought, sighing. No doubt he was visiting one of the many whores who frequented The Rocks. She pursed her lips, and he shook his head, looking straight at her then. He patted her knee and she skidded her legs out of his reach.
    "Now don 't go jumping to conclusions, miss. I was in a card game and left a winning hand to come to your rescue."
    "So, you can read my mind, can you?" she retorted.
    "Your face is an open book, wench. You can't keep any secrets from me. Are you feeling better now?"
    Isabella blinked. His soft inquiry was like a caress, and his eyes touched her just as gently as they roved over her face. She nodded, unable to find words. Since the kiss in the orchard he hadn 't spent one moment alone with her.
    "I can 't for a minute imagine what possessed Thelma to let you go gallivanting off on your own. She should know better."
    "Don 't blame Thelma. She told me you'd be annoyed with her for letting me go. But her cough was so bad, Tiger, and she'd run out of her medicine. I got a lift in with Mr. Enshaw, and would have been fine if he hadn't had to drop me outside the town."
    "Oh yes, fine," he grunted, shaking his head. "You should have waited until one of us men was able to go with you."
    "It was just unfortunate that Malloy happened along." She stared at her painful wrists, her fingers clenched.
    "Malloy will pay, don 't fret. He'll end up in chains if I have any say in it." Reaching out he stroked his fingers with such tenderness over the bruise on her jaw that she was transfixed, unable to move. When he returned his hand to the side of the wagon Isabella could still feel that warm touch on her cheek.
    "I would have done away with him if I 'd had a weapon."
    His brows shot up. "Bloodthirsty little wench." There was a touch of amusement in his tone. "Fat lot of good that would have done you." He shook his head. "You're a convict. You would have been swinging from the gibbet before tomorrow's sun set."
    "Speak ing of