Run Wild by Shelly Thacker Read Free Book Online

arms. They spun him around and shoved him up against the bars—while Swinton pressed a gun to his temple and Bickford hurried to get out of the way. The portly gaoler retreated a few paces and drew his own weapon.
    Yanking the rogue’s arms behind his back, they swiftly tied his hands with one of the ropes. Though the bonds looked painfully tight, he didn’t flinch. His jaw remained firm, his eyes unblinking.
    “Are ye ready there?” Bickford called to the fifth man who had accompanied them inside.
    “Aye, Mr. Bickford, sir.” The swarthy giant, who had hung back warily until now, came closer and emptied his sack onto the floor. A tangle of metal spilled out with a crash. To Sam’s eyes, the debris appeared to be either strange weapons, devices of torture, or—
    “Blacksmith’s tools,” her fellow prisoner said tightly. “What the devil do you need with those?”
    His captors chuckled.
    “We ain’t used to movin’ prisoners t’ither and yon,” Leach explained. “Usually we just holds ’em fer the assize judge.”
    “And we ain’t takin’ a chance of ye gettin’ away,” Tucker said.
    The blacksmith plucked one item from the jumble on the floor—a chain made of heavy iron links, with a thick cuff at either end. About two feet long, it looked more suitable for the previous residents of this stable than for a man.
    “Wait a moment, mates,” the rogue said in a friendly, reasoning tone. “There’s no need for that. I told you, I’m an innocent man. I won’t give you any trouble—”
    “Tell it to Tibbs,” Swinton snarled.
    Before their prisoner could protest further, the smithy opened one of the cuffs and closed it firmly around his right ankle.
    Sam felt not one whit of pity as she watched the blacksmith fasten the shackle in place with a heavy metal bolt, driving it home with a hammer. In fact, she felt relief.
    If she had to share a journey through the countryside with this rough-looking brigand, it suited her just fine that he have his hands tied behind his back—which might keep them from around her throat—and his legs chained, which might subdue him a bit.
    While the smithy checked his handiwork and picked up the other cuff, Bickford came over to her cell and unlocked the door. “Come along, missy.”
    She obeyed without making any sudden moves, her eyes on the pistol in his hand.
    Young Tucker laughed nervously. “Aye, mate, we’re goin’ to make it
real
difficult for a big bloke like you to get away.”
    Leach grabbed Sam by the arm and dragged her forward. “And her ladyship is goin’ to help.”
    She didn’t understand his meaning.
    Until she glanced away from the pistol aimed at her head and realized that they hadn’t finished chaining the rogue’s legs together.
    In fact, the smithy was holding the other cuff open.
    “Before ye even
think
of escapin’,” Swinton chuckled, “think about how this might slow ye down.”
    Sam gasped, looking up—and up and up—at the blackguard who stood at her side. Her gaze locked with a stunned emerald stare. He uttered an oath.
    And in that very instant she felt the heavy iron shackle being clamped around her ankle.

Chapter 4

    T hey jolted over a rut in the road and the cart’s wooden side struck Sam between the shoulder blades. She didn’t flinch, part of her too nauseous from the bumpy ride and the merciless midday sun, part still numb with disbelief. From the moment the smithy had fastened the iron cuff around her ankle this morning, she hadn’t drawn a complete breath.
    She felt dizzy. Sick.
    Perspiration trickled down her neck and into her bodice, pasting her hair to her skin in hot, sticky tangles. She couldn’t reach up to brush it away. With her wrists tied together behind her back, she could barely move. Her arms ached painfully from being stretched in the unnatural position for hours. Her hands had long ago gone numb. The horses’ hooves stirred up clouds of dust that stung her eyes. And a sour smell emanated from the