by Lara Lacombe
He closed his eyes, envisioning the scene. There had been a scattering of hay on the ground, a larger pile of it on the trap that she’d been trying to clear away.
Bait, he realized.
His blood turned to ice as the implications set in. This was no accident, no trap set years ago and then forgotten about as time passed. Someone had trespassed on ranch land, deliberately placed the trap and then baited it to draw cattle.
Sabotage.
Was it connected to the destruction of the fence panel? Or was it simply an unfortunate coincidence? It was hard to know how long the spike had been in the ground, though the hay used to bait the trap had seemed fairly fresh.
Wyatt’s mind kept churning as he walked. Who had done this? More importantly, were there other traps out there, waiting to deliver their deadly cargo to the unsuspecting animals or people who stumbled over them?
The hinges on the hospital room door squeaked softly as it was opened. Wyatt turned in time to see the nurse walk out. She paused when she caught sight of him standing there, her eyebrows coming together in a frown.
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” he replied automatically. He took a deep breath, trying to smooth his expression so his shock and worry wasn’t so obvious. “I’m fine. How’s she doing?”
“Holding steady. You can go in if you want. She asked for you.”
Pleasure bloomed in his chest, followed closely by a wave of relief. If Isabel was asking for him, she must be feeling better.
He knocked softly on the door to her room then pushed it open and walked inside.
Isabel was reclining in the bed, her hair dark against the white pillow. Wyatt studied her as he moved closer. She was frighteningly pale, her skin almost the same shade as the hospital gown she wore. A tube, draped over her ears and across her cheekbones, rested just under her nose. More tubes, attached to her arm, had ends connected to a box on a pole that emitted a whirring sound. She seemed small and so, so fragile.
“Hey.” Her voice was a rasp that had him wincing in sympathy.
“Hey yourself.” He stopped by the side of her bed. Without thinking, he reached for her hand. He needed to touch her, to know she was still there and would eventually be okay again.
She squeezed his hand, her brown eyes warm as she stared up at him. “You saved my life.”
The image of the dead cattle flashed in Wyatt’s mind. That could have been you, he realized, horror making his knees weak. What if she’d gone back to the site alone, discovered the trap with no one around to help her? She’d be lying in the dirt now, with no one the wiser until it was too late.
He sank onto the chair near the bed. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” The words came out a little shaky, a reflection of his inner turmoil.
“Thanks to you. What was that thing? Did you recognize it, or did you just have a hunch it was dangerous?”
“It’s a cyanide trap.” He explained its use and the mechanism by which it worked. “The Department of Agriculture has a history of using them.”
She frowned. “Do you think someone from the park put one there?”
Wyatt shook his head. “As far as I know, we don’t use them in Big Bend. Besides, your property is clearly fenced in that area. Anyone setting traps for a legitimate reason wouldn’t dream of trespassing.”
“So this was deliberate.”
“Yes.” He nodded for emphasis. “Your family is on the way. I think you all should seriously consider calling the sheriff’s department.” If it were up to him, he would have called them already. But he wasn’t sure how Isabel would want to handle the situation. And it was entirely possible the sheriff wouldn’t be able to do anything—there were no surveillance cameras along the fence, no way to identify who had set the trap or when. They might not ever discover who had done this, but it would make Wyatt feel better to report it.
“Hand me the phone.” She gestured to the slim receiver on the bedside table. “I’m not going to wait for Abuelo or Diego to give me permission. We lost three cattle, and I would have died if you hadn’t been there. That’s got to be attempted murder, at the least.”
Wyatt passed her the phone, glad to hear she agreed with his unspoken opinion. “Let me find the number for you.” He pulled out his cell phone for a quick internet search.
“What happened to Miel?” Isabel sounded worried. “I was so focused on breathing I forgot about her. Did you leave her out there by the trap?”
“No.” Ignoring the phone for a moment, he focused on her again. She was leaning forward, her eyes wide as her teeth worried at her bottom lip.
“She’s okay,” he continued. He smiled, trying to reassure her. “She chased after Ajax when we set off for the house. Guess she didn’t want to be left alone out there. Ruben took care of both her and Ajax once we got back.”
Isabel relaxed back onto the pillow. “That’s good,” she said, relief evident in her tone. “Now we just have to keep the other animals away from the spot.”
“Ruben’s taking care of that, too. He was there when I told your brother what had happened. Said he’d ride out to the spot and put up a makeshift fence to keep the rest of the herd away from the trap.”
“What would we do without Ruben?” Isabel asked softly.
“Let’s hope your family never has to find out,” Wyatt said. “Ready for the sheriff’s number?”
Isabel nodded, dialing as he recited the digits. A few minutes later, after making a report to the authorities, she replaced the phone in its cradle and handed it back to him.
“Well?” he asked.
“A couple of deputies are going to come to the hospital to speak to me,” she said. “They’ll also go to the ranch to check things out there.”
“Good,” Wyatt replied. He wasn’t sure how much they’d actually discover, but maybe they’d get lucky.
“Do you...” She trailed off, a contemplative look on her face. He stayed quiet, waiting for her to finish her thought. A second later, she shook her head in silent dismissal.
“Do you think there are more traps?” she asked, meeting his eyes once more.
“I think we have to assume so. Or at least act as if there are. Diego is going to need to scout that area with a fine-toothed comb to make sure there aren’t any lurking.”
“I bet there are,” she murmured. “Whoever cut the fence was probably the same person to set the trap. And I doubt they stopped at just one.”
“Probably not,” Wyatt agreed. “So your workers should employ the buddy system when they’re out checking fences or looking for signs of calving.”
“Good idea.” She was quiet a moment, but he could tell from the look in her eyes her mind was engaged. “Do you think the energy company had anything to do with this?”
Wyatt considered the possibility. “I doubt it,” he said. “I can’t imagine they’d sanction the illegal placement of cyanide traps on your land. That opens them up to a big lawsuit.”
“Only if we can prove it was them,” Isabel pointed out. “Given the remoteness of the area, we’d practically have to catch them in the act to prove they’re involved.”
“That’s true,” Wyatt said. “What makes you think they’re part of this?”
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I’m just guessing at this point.” She rested her head against the pillow, closing her eyes. It was clear she was exhausted, and no wonder. Her body had spent a good deal of time fighting to breathe this morning. After that kind of traumatic experience, rest was the best thing for her.
“Let’s worry about it later,” Wyatt suggested. He understood her desire to get to the bottom of this mystery, but she needed to recover. She wasn’t the type to willingly take a break. Hopefully her doctors would force the issue, since she was unlikely to listen to him or to her family on this matter.
Isabel opened her eyes. “A
re you suggesting I let it go? Because I can promise you, that’s not going to happen.”
Wyatt held up a hand in defense. “Not at all. I just think you’ve had one hell of a morning. It wouldn’t be a bad thing if you rested for a bit. No one is going to forget about today’s events.” Especially not me, he added silently, feeling a tremor run through him again at the memory of her kneeling inches away from the trap. “But there’s nothing you can do from your hospital bed to fix things. The deputies and your family are on their way. Talk to them, let them do some of the work. Give yourself time to heal. Then you can dive back in and take on the world.”
A ghost of a smile flitted across her face. “Why do you have to sound so reasonable?”
He tilted his head to the side. “I’m sorry?” he said with a smile.
She laughed, the sound quickly turning into a cough that made her wince. Her face turned red as the spasm gripped her.
Alarmed, Wyatt leaned forward. He wanted to help, but what could he do besides offer moral support?
There was a large plastic glass on the bedside table. He grabbed it and rushed to the sink on the far wall, quickly filling it with water. She reached for it as he turned around, but it was several seconds before she dared to take a drink.
“Thanks,” she said finally. Her voice was like sandpaper on his ears. She opened her mouth to speak again, but Wyatt shook his head.
“Please, don’t push yourself.” I can’t watch you do that anymore.
She nodded, leaned back against the pillow again.
Wyatt watched her for a moment, the tension leaving his body as she relaxed once more. Her chest rose and fell in a steady, normal rhythm, something he didn’t think he’d take for granted ever again.
Assuming she was asleep, he took a step toward the door. Maybe he could catch Diego and the rest of the family in the hall, keep them from running into the room and waking her up. But before he could take another step, Isabel spoke.
“Please stay.”
Wyatt turned around. Her eyes were still closed but she’d moved her head to face the door. When he didn’t respond right away, she opened her eyes. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”
Her confession was like an arrow to his heart. Isabel was a strong, independent woman with a healthy dose of pride. Growing up, she’d never asked for help, even if she’d clearly needed it. For her to say this now meant she had to be feeling incredibly vulnerable.
“Of course,” he said softly. He returned to her side, settling into the chair once more. “I won’t leave you.”
Isabel smiled, her eyes closing again. Wyatt sat in silence, watching as she sank into sleep. His heart flip-flopped at the sight, and the emotions he’d pushed aside earlier while in crisis mode rose to the surface and began demanding his attention.
Twenty-four hours. That’s all it had taken for Isabel to reclaim her spot in his life. He still didn’t know why she’d left without saying goodbye all those years ago, or what he’d done to cause the rift between them. But those worries paled in significance compared to the events of this morning.
She could have died in his arms. Probably would have, if the medevac hadn’t arrived when it had. And even though they hadn’t spoken to each other in ten years, the thought of a world without Isabel in it was enough to make his blood run cold.
With the adrenaline still fading from his system, Wyatt recognized he wasn’t in a good frame of mind to be making decisions. But there were a few things he did know for certain.
He wanted Isabel in his life again.
He needed to find out what had happened between them.
And he’d stay until she asked him to go.
Chapter 6
“What the hell were you thinking?” Diego braced his hands on the metal frame at the foot of Isabel’s bed and leaned forward, looming over her ankles.
“Language!” Maria admonished.
Diego flicked a glance in her direction. “Sorry, Mami,” he murmured. Then his brown eyes cut back to Isabel, the accusation plain. “What made you think it was a good idea to get so close to a cyanide trap?”
Isabel took a careful breath, hoping to avoid triggering another coughing spasm. Her head still ached, but at least the nausea had faded. It’s the little things, she thought to herself.
She glanced at her abuelo, sitting off to the side of her bed in the room’s only chair. He was watching her closely, as if he thought she might start choking at any moment. The lines of his face seemed deeper somehow, his usual vigor dimmed in the artificial lights of the room.
Maria, unable to stand still, puttered around the room shaking out and refolding spare blankets and refreshing Isabel’s water. Her concern manifested as action, her worry driving her to move, to do something she considered helpful.
Isabel could handle her grandfather’s silence. She appreciated Maria’s attempts to comfort her. But she wasn’t sure how much of Diego’s temper she could tolerate right now.
Where is Wyatt? she thought, irritated.
He’d stepped into the hall when her family had arrived, muttering something about privacy. It was a nice gesture, but she needed him there, running interference with her brother. She stared longingly at the door, wondering if she could pull him back into the room through sheer force of will.
“Well?” Diego demanded.
Isabel glanced at him, noted the fear in his brown eyes. He did love her, even if he had an annoying way of showing it.
“I didn’t realize it was a cyanide trap,” she explained. Talking made her throat ache, but she couldn’t avoid it. The sheriff’s deputies would be here soon and she’d have to tell them her story, as well.
“Do you really think I’d deliberately be that reckless?” she continued. Her temper was flaring in response to Diego’s accusation. He’d always used his position as older brother to treat her like a child. She was beyond tired of his attitude.
He pushed off the bed rail, ran a hand through his hair. “No,” he muttered. “I don’t think you did it on purpose. But you still should have known better.”
Isabel rolled her eyes. “Sure. Whatever you say.” Just how she was supposed to have recognized a trap she’d never seen before remained a mystery, but she didn’t have the energy to argue the point right now.
She turned to her grandfather, still sitting quietly. “Is there any chance the trap is one of ours? I know we don’t use them now, but maybe they were deployed in the past?”
Jose started shaking his head before she’d even finished the question. “No. We’ve never used them. Too risky.”
“Then where did this one come from?” Diego started to pace, forcing Maria to dodge him as he walked the width of the hospital room. “Who would plant this trap on our land?”
“Probably the same person who cut the fence,” Isabel remarked.
Diego nodded, his brows drawn together in a frown. “The last time someone checked the fence was three days ago. It was still intact at that point.”
“So sometime in the last three days, the fence was cut and the trap set.” Isabel rubbed her forehead with her fingers, trying to ease the persistent ache.
“You are in pain?” Maria asked. She patted Isabel’s knee. “I will tell the nurse.” She walked away without waiting for a response. Isabel considered telling her not to bother, but she knew it would make the older woman happy if she felt like she had something to do.
“That tells us the when,” Diego said. “But we still don’t know who or why.”
Her brother’s musings were interrupted by a knock on the door. A man stepped inside, wearing the khaki shirt and gold star of a sheriff’s deputy. “Isabel Cruz?”
“That’s me.”
He nodded, walked forward until he stood by the side of her bed. “I’m Deputy Jackson. I’m here to talk to you about what happened this morning.”
The deputy was a couple of inches shorter than Diego, but he was built like a linebacker with broad shoulders and muscular arms. His gray eyes betrayed no emotion as he glanced at her grandfather and brother, nodding a greeting to both men.
“All right.” Isabel pushed up in the bed, wanting to sit forward rather than recline for this interview. “Should we have Wyatt come in? He was with me when everything happened.”
“My partner is speaking to him now, ma’am,” Deputy Jackson said. “We caught him in the hallway.”
“Should we leave?” Jose asked. He placed his hands on the armrests of the chair and began to rise.
Both Deputy Jackson and Diego moved to help the older man, but Jose waved them off. “I’m fine,” he announced. “Just a little creaky.”
“There’s no need for you to go,” the deputy said. “Unless Ms. Cruz would prefer to speak to me alone.”
Isabel shook her head. “It’s fine, Abuelo,” she said. “Please sit back down.”
“I need to stand,” he said. “These bones need to move or they will lock up on me.”
Only once she was sure her grandfather was fine did Isabel look back at the sheriff’s deputy. “How does this work?” she asked. “I’ve never been questioned by the police before.”
“Let’s start at the beginning,” Deputy Jackson suggested. He withdrew a small notepad and pen from the back pocket of his pants. “Walk me through your morning.”
Isabel did as he requested, leaving out the fact she’d had trouble sleeping thanks to the family argument and Wyatt’s return. It didn’t take long to describe today’s events. It helped that the deputy was such a good listener; unlike her brother, he didn’t interrupt her after every other sentence.
“So it’s your opinion this trap was deliberately set by someone trespassing on ranch land?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“Do you think you were the target of this trap?”
It was a possibility she hadn’t considered. But she quickly dismissed the suggestion. “No.” She shook her head slowly. “I think I was just unlucky. Any one of the ranch workers could have found the dead cattle yesterday, or gone out to check the area today. If someone was trying to get rid of me, there are far easier ways to do it.”
