"You need those pretty long legs o' yours rubbed," Matt Bigger told her. "I'd be happy to stop here an' oblige." He grinned wickedly.

"I'm fine, thank you. I just want to get home."

"Oh, you're gonna git home," he said, just loud enough for her to hear. "But not before you and I finish what we started on the ship."

"We started nothing on the ship."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. I can still remember the taste of those perty pink lips of yours. I never wanted a woman the way I want you. I'm gonna have you. Sure as my name's Matt Bigger."

"Mr. Fields," Glory called out. "Would you mind if I rode beside you?"

"Won't do you no good," Matt said with a soft chuckle. "You're gonna warm my bed sooner or later."

Glory urged her horse forward, fighting down a rush of fear Why did Bigger sound so sure of himself when they were already on Summerfield land? And what about the other two men? Surely they'd be able to defend her. Bigger must be bluffing.

But something told her he wasn't.

They skirted the main house and rode straight to the Fry place. Jonas heard their noisy approach and sauntered through the front door dressed in a red flannel undershirt and cotton twill trousers.

"So you brought the runaway home," he said as Lester Fields broke Nathan loose from the others. "And his sweet sister, too. I got the word you was comin'. Got yer money right here, includin' some extra fer Miss Glory."

"Shouldn't we return Nathan to my mother?" Glory asked, heart pounding. "After all, she's the one who offered the reward."

"Your mama don't know a thing about this," Fry said. "But you kin bet she'll be real pleased to git her nigger back."

"If my mother doesn't know about this, where did you get the money?"

"Miz Louise's been handin' more and more of the business over to me. Seems it were more'n she could handle, you leavin' an' all."

Glory felt a twinge of conscience. "What are you planning to do with Nathan?"

"What shoulda been done long ago. But don't you worry your pretty little head about it. That's man's business."

"But I am worried, Mr. Fry. Whatever you're planning, I won't let you. We're going to take Nathan to my mother. That's an order, Jonas."

Jonas just smiled. "Sorry, missy. You don't give orders 'round here no more."

"Why don't I take her on up to the house for ya?" Matt Bigger offered.

"Good idea," Jonas agreed.

"No! I'm not going anyplace with that horrible man. Tell him, Mr. Fields."

"Tell him what, Lester?" Matt asked, grinning, face all boyish and innocent.

Neither of the two men answered, just kept their eyes fixed on the ground, and Glory suddenly understood why Matt Bigger had been so sure of himself all along. Both Lester Fields and Spencer James were afraid of Matthew Bigger.

"Listen to me, Jonas," Glory said. "This man means to . . . he intends to force his intentions on me."

Matt Bigger chuckled. "She sure has an imagination, don't she? Why if I'd wanted to take you, darlin', I'd've done it long before now."

Jonas relaxed. "I know you, Miss Glory. You're used to gittin' yer way. Well, not this time." He returned his attention to Bigger. "Already sent word to the committee. They mean to see justice is done."

"No!" Glory gasped, jumping down from her horse. Bigger was out of his saddle in an instant.

"Tie her up and take her home," Jonas ordered. In seconds, Glory felt Bigger's large hands tying her smaller ones in front of her, then shoving a gag into her mouth. The next thing she knew she was hoisted into her saddle, and Bigger was leading the animal away.

"Make sure you untie her 'fore you take her up to the door. Her mama might not like us manhandlin' her little girl."

Matt waved back over his shoulder.

"You boys can camp right here tonight," Jonas told the other two men. "Do these niggers good to see what happens when they try to run away."

Feet dangling outside her stirrups, Glory gripped the horse with her knees to keep from bouncing up and down on her already sore legs, protesting against the gag as Bigger led her horse farther and farther into the darkness. By the time he stopped, she could no longer hear the voices of the others. Reining up beside a huge live oak shrouded by Spanish moss, he pulled her down from the saddle. Glory felt the metal stirrup pressing into her back, smelled the horse's musky scent as she leaned against the animal's warm flesh.

Matt slipped the gag from her mouth. "It's time we finished our business."

"You're on my family's land, Mr. Bigger. If you harm me, they'll see you hang."

"I ain't gonna hurt you. I told you that before. But I gotta have you. My breeches is bustin' with wantin' you. You ease my need, I'll let you go."

"And what if I don't?"

"I'll take you anyway. Never took a woman against her wishes before." He smiled, looking almost handsome. "Never had to. But I will if you make me."

"You'll be hunted down."

"If I gotta give up my share and leave this part of the country, that's what I'll do."

Glory felt sick with dread. She licked her lips, now dry. "I'll do as you ask. Untie me."

"I knew you'd see reason. You're a smart girl. Got guts, too." He chuckled as he worked the knot at her wrist. "Stickin' that knife in me. That took courage. Never knowed a woman with courage like yours. Made me want you even more."

"Why did you wait until now?" she asked, stalling for time.

" 'Cause I didn't want to share you. Figured those sailors would want a piece of you, too. I don't like to share my womenfolk. I like you, Glory. I like you a lot. I'd take you with me if you'd just say the word." He turned her to face him, one rough hand beside her cheek.

"I never seen skin like yours. Like cream it is." He dropped his head till his mouth touched her lips. The sensation was not unpleasant; still, her stomach rolled. She tried to remain calm, tried to blot the thick feel of his tongue as he forced her lips apart.

She waited till she felt his hold ease, then with a quick turn, brought her knee up between his legs. Bigger swore as she made contact, but she knew her skirts and petticoats had kept her from doing any real damage. Twisting away, she tried to run, but got only a few steps before Bigger's arm snaked around her waist. He brought her up short, forcing her back against the muscles of his chest. While she fought to still her trembling, he pulled the pins from her hair and let the soft strands cascade onto her shoulders.

"Please let me go," she whispered. "I can't do this."

Bigger stiffened. "Have it your way." He scooped her into his arms and carried her, struggling, to the base of the oak tree. Pinning both her hands above her head with his larger one, he used the other to work the buttons on the front of her dress. Achieving only minimal success, he growled in frustration and ripped the dress away.

"I hate doin' it like this, but you ain't leavin' me no choice." She squirmed against him as he tore away her chemise, leaving her breasts bare above her demicorset. With an appreciative groan, he cupped one in his free hand and caressed her nipple with his thumb. His mouth stilled her protests, his tongue slick and moist between her teeth.

Fighting to twist away, Glory felt herself freed so abruptly she jerked backwards, hitting her head with a dull thump against the tree. When she looked up, Nicholas stood in front of her, booted feet spread apart, chest dark beneath the open front of his white linen shirt. Matt Bigger moaned at his feet. Nicholas's gray eyes looked so stormy they appeared almost black.

Glory felt a surge of joy so powerful it made her dizzier than she already was. Clutching the tree, she shook her head to be certain her husband's image was real.

Nicholas lifted Bigger off the ground and punched him again, sending him sprawling. He gained his feet, staggering. Nicholas spun him around and hit him in the stomach, doubling him over. A last hard blow glanced off his chin. The young slaver slumped unconscious to the ground.

Eyes dark with worry, Nicholas turned to Glory. Long strides carried him to where she sat leaning against the tree. Kneeling beside her, he pulled her into his arms, cradling her head against his shoulder.

Glory felt the sting of tears. "I thought you'd gone to Kristen," she whispered. "I was afraid I'd lost you."

"Hash," he said, drawing her dress together over her bare breasts and fastening the few buttons that remained. "You're all I care about. All I've ever cared about. Not Kristen. Not anyone else." He kissed her eyes, her nose, her mouth, showing her his love, proving it in a way no words ever could. He smelled of leather; his shirt felt crisp beneath her fingers. His breath tasted warm as their tongues met and he teased the softness inside her mouth.

When he pulled away, they were both a little shaken. "You're sure you're all right?" he said.

"I am now. How did you find me? How did you know?"

"Jonas Fry's name was on the poster. We followed you to his house. Fry told us Bigger had taken you on up to the manor. We split up to look for you." He grinned. "Considering your state of undress, I'm glad I'm the one who found you."

Just then Mac, Josh, and Jago burst into the clearing, horses lathered with exertion.

"You found her!" Josh called out.

"Thank the Almighty," Jago agreed, making the sign of the cross.

"Aye. It's good to see ye, lass," Mac told her.

Glory flashed a grateful smile, clutching the front of her dress. "It's good to see you, too. All of you."

"Jago," Nicholas said. "Take care of this-gentleman, will you?" Matt Bigger still hadn't moved.

"Be a pleasure, Cap'n."

"Come on." Nicholas clutched Glory's arm. "I'll take you up to the house. Then the men and I will see to Nathan."

Head still fuzzy and spinning, Glory pulled away. "I'm going with you. I want to be sure he's safe."

The sound of a gunshot echoed across the darkness. Glory's head snapped up. "Nathan," she breathed. Grabbing up her skirts, she raced back in the direction they'd come. Nicholas caught up with her in three long strides.

"We'll take the horses," he told her, spinning her around.

Glory let him lead her back. Nicholas helped her into the saddle, and they dug in their heels, urging the animals into a run.

They reached the cabin to find a circle of men holding torches aloft, flanked by the chain of wide-eyed slaves along with Lester Fields and Spencer James. In the center, Jonas Fry stood beside Nathan, who was tied to a post, his ragged shirt ripped away to expose his broad muscular back.

Nicholas swung down from his horse before it slid to a halt. "Let him go, Fry," he ordered.

"The devil you say."

Jago Dodd tossed Nicholas his pistol. Nicholas caught the weapon and swung his arm toward the overseer in the same easy motion, pressing the muzzle of the gun behind the man's ear.

"One of you men cut him loose," he directed the circle of slaves, motioning toward Nathan. "The rest of you go on back home."

"The boy's a runaway, sir. Law's clear on that. He's bound to be punished." The heavy male voice bore the smooth accent of a well-bred southern gentleman.

"And just who might you be?" Nicholas asked, still holding the pistol to the overseer's head.

"I'm Thomas Jervey. I own Magnolia Gardens plantation just south of here, and I'm head of the Committee for the Preservation of Southern Society." Jervey sat astride his big bay, flat white hat perched atop his head-the epitome of the southern planter. Like most of the southern aristocracy, Jervey was obviously a man of conviction. A man who believed in what he was doing.

"All right, Mr. Jervey," Nicholas said. "We'll return Nathan to Summerfield Manor. Tomorrow you may come and speak with Mrs. Summerfield. If she gives you permission, the punishment will stand."

"No!" Glory screamed, sliding down from her horse. Already on the ground, Josh caught her up before she could reach the circle of men.

"Let the captain handle this, Glory," he whispered. "He knows what he's doing."

Trembling all over, hard-pressed just to stay on her feet, Glory nodded and felt Josh loosen his hold.

"Do we have a bargain, Mr. Jervey?"

"I don't like bein' coerced, Mr.-"

"Blackwell. Nicholas Blackwell."

"Ah, Captain Blackwell. Yes. I've heard of you. I believe we may have even met on one occasion. I'm surprised a man of your stature would interfere in local jurisprudence."

"I don't normally. But Glory's my wife now. What's important to her is important to me. Besides, Nathan's a relative of sorts."

"It's a sad day indeed when a white man comes out with an admission like that."

"I'm sorry if I've offended your sensibilities. Now, do we have a deal?"

"Jonas?" Thomas Jervey asked.

"Don't do it, Mr. Jervey. Ain't right bargainin' with no nigger-lover."

Nicholas cocked the pistol, pressing the cold metal even harder behind the man's ear. "You sure about that, Fry?"

Jonas Fry spun and jerked at the same time, grabbing Nicholas's pistol hand. A shot was fired; then several more sounded. Josh pushed Glory to the ground, his own spent weapon acrid with the smell of burned powder. Jago crouched as he drew his blade and held it menacingly. Mac pointed his spent weapon at the dirt. When the smoke and dust cleared, the circle of men had scattered; some had flattened themselves against the earth. One moaned softly.

One lay silent.

Stifling her terror, fighting the beckoning dark of unconsciousness, Glory rushed to Nicholas's side. At first she thought he was dead and it was all she could do to breathe. As she knelt beside him and carefully shifted his head into her lap, blood from the wound in his chest oozed through her trembling fingers.

"I'll go for help," Josh said, darting for his horse.

Mac knelt beside her, his ruddy face grim. He opened Nicholas's bloody shirt to look at the wound. Mumbling something beneath his breath, he stepped away, eyes fixed on the ground. "I'll get some clean rags," he said softly. "We need t' stop the bleedin'."

Glory brushed damp tendrils of hair from Nicholas's cheek. His breathing sounded hollow; his chest rose only a fraction with each uneven breath. A weak pulse throbbed at the base of his throat. He hadn't moved at all.

Glory leaned over him. Tears welled and slipped down her cheeks. "Nicholas, please don't die." Her hand trembled so badly that she clenched her fist to still the motion. "You can't die now. We have our whole lives ahead of us."

His fingers closed over hers, brown against her fairer skin. His eyelids fluttered open. He ran his tongue over his lips and swallowed, straining to speak.