did, and now you're down. Maybe next time you'll be more specific in your requests."
Megan grumbled under her breath, inventing a few new nasty names for the man sitting so high and mighty on his chestnut gelding. She moved to her side and tried to support herself on her hands and knees. Damned if they didn't feel as limp as wet noodles. Tingles stabbed through her limbs as they began to regain feeling. With a sigh of defeat, she rolled back on her hip.
Luke jumped down from his horse to crouch at her side. “Why didn't you tell me you were tired?"
"I am not tired,” she said, knowing her supine position betrayed her.
"That must be why you can hardly move."
"I wouldn't be in this condition if you hadn't tied me up like a Christmas goose. I'm an excellent rider, for God's sake."
"I'm sure you are."
"I am."
"I don't doubt it,” Luke said a bit more sternly. “But I don't have time to let you prove it.” He lifted her to her feet and held her as she struggled for balance.
"They probably aren't even awake yet,” Megan said, clutching Luke's shoulders for support.
"Who?” He looked thoroughly confused.
"Evan and the others,” she answered. “They won't know you took off with their money for another two or three hours ."
"That's the least of my problems right now."
"Then what's so all-fired important that you have to toss me over a horse and drag me half across the state?"
Luke chuckled. “We haven't even gone ten miles yet."
"Well, it feels like fifty,” she said, rubbing her bottom.
"Can you stand?"
"Of course I can stand, you idiot."
"Good.” He removed his hands from her waist.
Megan's legs wobbled, and she grabbed at his arms.
"Christ, you should have said something.” Luke eased her back to the ground and went to pick up the strongbox.
"I'll remember that. The next time some cold-blooded outlaw kidnaps me, ties my wrists, gags and blindfolds me, I'll be sure to mention that my hands and feet are falling asleep. I'm sure he'll be terribly concerned."
"I don't know why anyone would be concerned about you with a smart mouth like that."
"You're one to talk, Saint Luke, Robber of Stages.” Megan watched as he steadied the box on the saddle of her horse, securing it with a length of rope. “Where the hell am I supposed to sit? If you think I'll be walking behind you and your precious railroad payroll, you're out of your itty-bitty bandit mind."
Luke threw her a quelling look and checked the ropes again. “You can ride with me."
"You are an idiot,” she said, forcing her stiff body to obey her commands. She got to her knees and struggled a long minute until she stood upright. “I am not riding with you."
"I don't think you have much choice in the matter,” Luke said, patting his double six-shooters.
The guns on his hips didn't impress Megan. “You might as well shoot me and get it over with, Mr. Big Bad Bank Robber. Because if you make me go with you, I'll make your trip a living hell."
"You already have.” He took a step toward her. “And I have never robbed a bank."
"Stage robber, bank robber—it's all the same. You're still going to hang.” He moved forward. She took a step back.
"I won't hang,” he said.
"You will if I have anything to say about it."
He laughed. Megan didn't know what could be so funny about a noose tightening around one's neck, but he obviously found the possibility amusing.
With little warning, Luke swooped Megan up over his shoulder and mounted his horse. She pounded his back for several minutes until she realized the uselessness of her efforts. When she stopped, he slid her down his body and helped her get comfortable in front of him.
"It's going to be a long ride,” he said. “You might as well get some sleep."
Megan stiffened her spine, determined to remain awake. She didn't care if she stayed on this horse for a month straight; the last thing she would ever do was fall asleep in this man's arms.
Chapter Three
Megan awakened to the gurgle of