Mystic Mountains

never had much to take." She choked back a small cry. "And come with me, Tiger. See what I found."
    Tiger stared at the sheet of paper in his hand as he followed her into the small back room. Something gave in him when he looked down on the narrow bed. Lord, would he ever get the taste, smell, and sight of her sweet body, so yielding and passionate beneath his, out of his mind? Drawing in a rag ged breath he turned to see Thelma holding a garment.
    "Just look what she did, Tiger."
    "Good God." Thelma held the gown Bella had worn to the ball. The frock she'd loved so much had been hacked to ribbons. "What's the matter with her? What possessed her to do such a thing?"
    "Unhappiness. The poor lass was dying of it." Thelma gazed at him for a moment, then said steadily, "I have to say this, Tiger, though you 'll probably want to beat me for it, but you've hurt the girl so much she's been dying by the minute, pining for something she knew was out of her reach. You have a lot to answer for."
    "That 's enough, Thelma." It was only the second time he'd shouted at her. "What happened was between Bella and me. She knew the way of things."
    "Knew the way of things did she?" Mutinously Thelma drew her lips together. "What will I do with this?" She gathered up the rags of the ball gown and, face taut with disgust, followed him from the room.
    "I don't care. Burn the bloody thing and let's have an end to it!"
    But in the kitchen he turned to her in appeal. "Where do you suppose she 's gone? We can't leave her out there where the likes of Malloy can get their hands on her. I'll ride into town and report she's run away. Have you any ideas, Thelma?"
    "There 's her friend Gracie. Perhaps she made for the house where she works. The girl's not been far from the farm to make friends. We're all she has." Thelma flopped down on a chair, the ball gown lying forlornly on her lap. She ran her work worn hands over the shredded fabric.
    "And we 'll get her back. Have no fear, Thelma; I'll leave no stone unturned. I'll be away now." He put a hand to her shoulder and squeezed it gently. Thelma stiffened beneath his touch.
    "Women, " he muttered as he strode out.
    "Aye, women. What would you men do without them; yet silly sods that you are you have no idea how to handle them."
    Tiger barely heard her. He was already on the way to saddle Satan.
    "I 'll ring the wench's bloody neck," he ground out as he rode away. But inside he cringed as he pictured the fate that could quite easily be hers if she'd fallen into the wrong hands. Even now she could be dead and tossed into the sea or the mire. A man only had to drive a small distance from town to dispose of an unwanted body. He rubbed a hand over his face and groaned. This was all due to his lust, and his greed. What sort of man was he? She'd put her trust in him, and he'd abused that trust.
    He made straight for the wharf area. If she 'd been picked up by one of the scum from there it would likely be spread thereabouts. Tiger ground his teeth. He'd whip the useless wench for putting him through this. No, he wouldn't. He'd likely pull her so tightly in his arms he'd wring every breath out of her body.
    She had such a beautiful body, with all the curves and dips in just the right places. His dreams had been filled with her since that night he 'd made her his. His. By God, she hated the very sight of him, and who could blame her?
    Three hours later Tiger reached the end of his tether. There was no word of her turning up in any of the haunts, no stories of murder being committed and hushed up. It was almost as if Isabella had disappeared off the face of the earth.
    Could she have . . .?
    No, it didn 't bear thinking of. She was too stubborn, too tenacious, too proud and courageous to think of taking her own life. How conceited of him to entertain the thought. If all the humiliation of her rape and trial and subsequent transportation hadn't driven her to such an end, then surely his rejection wouldn't make her contemplate it.
    A bitter taste filled his mouth and his head felt full of wool from the rum swallowed in his course of questioning. But that was nothing to the ache of fear and frustration curdling his stomach.
    A search would be mounted for her remains, if the worst came about and she was dead, but naught could be done if she'd decided to melt into the flotsam populating the town. God willing she would turn up at her friend Gracie's place of employment and all would be solved.
    Something deep within