She gave a soft snort at what was probably a fantasy she’d acquired via a family sitcom or movie of the week. Her life might be different if she’d had a father like that, one who’d have given her a standard by which to measure other men. She’d have still been fine if Jed had grown up loved by a good man who taught him to believe in himself. Maybe even if Theo’s father hadn’t been brutal…but she had trouble believing that. Despite Jed’s sad upbringing, he had become a man who lived by a code of honor and even chivalry. He just didn’t know how to love – or didn’t love her. Theo... No. He took too much pleasure in other people’s pain.
With both men…she’d been the fool, and Linette couldn’t forget that.
An owl hooted. Several whuffles came from the darkness in response. There were small rustling sounds, a clunk of a hoof on the hard floor in the barn.
Her perch was surprisingly comfortable. So comfortable, sleep beckoned. It didn’t help that she felt safer up here than she would have in her bedroom. Her mistake had been hauling the foam pad and the sleeping bag up with her. The pillow was the last straw. Linette made herself sit up, moving slowly until her back rested against the trunk of the enormous oak tree.
An alien, droning sound came from a great distance but gradually drew nearer. At last she saw several lights in the sky. She’d heard or seen a small plane circle overhead almost every night lately. The flights almost had to be part of the law enforcement response to the cattle rustling. Somebody up there was watching for movement or road traffic that didn’t belong. Linette found the sound to be reassuring. She wondered who was actually in the plane looking down. For a moment, she imagined Jed searching the dark land below with binoculars – but that was silly, of course.
The plane drifted away, east over the Arrowhead Creek Ranch, then south, she thought. The moon rose higher in the sky.
This was stupid, she thought some time later. The intruder would undoubtedly be back, but probably not two nights in a row. And she couldn’t stay on watch night after night. She had to sleep sometime. She wished she knew what time he – or she, although that seemed unlikely – had slipped into her house last night. If it had been almost morning…she had hours to wait.
The far off sound of an engine roused her. Was the car coming her direction?
Yes, but it never got as far as her ranch. A neighbor coming home late, that’s all. Maybe a teenager who’d been partying with friends.
Linette’s eyelids grew heavier. To keep herself awake, she thought about what she had to do tomorrow…but it felt too much like counting sheep.
A horse screaming awakened her with a painful jolt. Her head shot up. Thrashing not far away was accompanied by muffled swearing.
Snatching up her flashlight, she flung herself down the boards nailed to the tree trunk with such haste, she fell the last six or eight feet and landed with a jarring thud. No time to lie dazed. Linette scrambled to her feet, turned on the flashlight and swept it back and forth until the beam illuminated the horrifying scene of a huge dark man whipping at the rump of a foal he had on a lead line. The dam was racing back and forth on the other side of the fence, screaming her distress.
That dirt bag was trying to steal a two-month-old foal.
Over her dead body. She grabbed the baseball bat she’d left on the ground and, with an enraged yell, ran at him.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Ma’am? Are you all right?” a man kept saying. “Talk to me. I’ve called for the cops and an ambulance. They should be here any minute.”
Linette pried open her eyes. The darkness didn’t lessen. Was she blind? She blinked a couple of times, a memory sneaking through a crack. No, this was night, and an especially dark one.
She heard herself make a croaking sound, and the man kneeling at her side bent closer.
“You with me again?”
Had she ever been with him? she wondered. His voice seemed familiar, though. She tried to moisten her mouth. “Who…?”
“I’m Alex Burke from the Arrowhead Creek Ranch. Lucky I was driving home when I did. I glanced up this way and saw some SOB knock you down.”
On a gasp of alarm, she struggled to sit up. “Foal?”
“Looks fine. She huddled up to the fence as close to her mommy as she could get. I didn’t even have to chase her.” He paused. “Padlock was cut on the gate. I released her back in the pasture.”
Pasture was a nicer description than Linette’s raw acreage deserved. Still, this being spring, the bunchgrasses were green and healthy. Her intent was to allow the horses to roam in a wild environment, however limited. She supplemented with oats and hay.
The wail of a siren was joined by a second one.
“I don’t need an ambulance,” she said petulantly. Yes, she felt foggy, her thoughts wandering unpredictably, but she didn’t want to go to the hospital.
Her fellow rancher shook his head. “Beg to differ. You were unconscious for a good ten minutes. You need an MRI or CT scan.”
“I can’t leave—”
He must have heard her panic, because he took her hand in his. His calluses were reassuring for some absurd reason, and so was his voice. “I’ll stay here for the night. I already grabbed my rifle.” The grimness came through. “Nobody will be getting away with a horse tonight.”
He’d lived through hell when his older brother was murdered a few months back. It was the older brother, Travis, who had stopped by her place shortly after the For Sale sign went down and the LB Kiger ranch sign went up. He’d told her to call on them any time, whatever she needed.
A few weeks after the murder, she’d encountered Alex at the feed store and awkwardly told him how sorry she was about Travis. That was the only time they’d met, although now and again she’d waved at one brother or another driving by in pickup trucks. They looked enough alike, she’d never been sure which was which. Until…well, one of the two was dead and buried.
All she could say now was “Thank you.”
A squad car rocketed up the lane first, slamming to a stop behind Alex’s pickup truck. Linette braced herself, but she didn’t know the deputy who strode toward them. He was young, like the jerk who’d been out here last week, but darker skinned and had an earnest, serious expression.
He nodded, said, “Burke,” then squatted to her level. “Ms. Broussard? How are you feeling?” He actually sounded as if he cared.
“Not too bad—” Abruptly, she clapped a hand over her mouth. She twisted away from the men and heaved, not bringing up an awful lot, but tasting the bitterness of bile.
Once done, she discovered two EMTs stood above her. They asked questions. She admitted her head hurt, lifting her hand to tentatively touch where she’d been struck.
“I think he hit me with the butt of a pistol.”
The deputy jumped in. “Did you see your assailant?”
“Not his face.” She’d give just about anything to be able to identify the man. “It was too dark. He was…wearing all black, I think. Maybe even over his face?”
“Like a balaclava?”
That didn’t sound quite right. “Or a bandana?”
“What about size?” It was Alex asking.
“Big,” she said slowly. “Not fat. Tall. Muscular.” She made a face. “I can’t be sure. That’s just my impression.”
Her impression made her reluctantly think about the two men she’d run from. Jed was definitely a large man, lightning fast, strong. Theo worked construction and had the powerful body to show for it. Remembering how fast he moved when he was angry, she winced.
Of course, she’d seen or even met plenty of other big, strongly built men here in Hayes County. The county sheriff, Grant Holcomb, fit the description to a T. Alex was more tall and lean, but he was also younger and had the shoulders of a man who would put on more bulk in the coming years. A lot of men in this rural county worked hard for a living and their physiques showed it.
In other words, her observations were next to worthless. A thin man might have been wearing a
bullet-proof vest. If he was one of the rustlers, he’d have every reason to expect a rancher to come after him with a rifle. Plus, she’d read that victims of crimes often exaggerated the size of their assailants. Who ever said, Well, he was a scrawny guy but he overpowered me anyway?
Alex walked beside the gurney, his hand resting on hers until the EMTs loaded her in the back of the ambulance. Then she tried to sit up again but didn’t get far with the EMT pressing her back down.
“Alex!”
“Yeah?”
“There’s a treehouse in the big oak in front of the house. Sleeping bag, pad and pillow. That’s where I was keeping watch.”
“Keeping watch?” the deputy asked sharply.
“You can talk to her at the hospital.” The older looking EMT hopped out and slammed the doors shut.
Linette let her heavy eyelids sink closed. There was nothing she could do right now. She might as well go along for the ride.
*****
Jed considered another cup of coffee but decided he couldn’t afford any more caffeine if he intended to hit the sack. Since it wouldn’t be a surprise if he were called out in the middle of the night – especially a Saturday night – he should take advantage of a chance to sleep when it came along. Still, insomniac enough to know he’d have trouble nodding off in the immediate future, he stayed where he was, slouched on the sofa that had come with the house. It had shit for springs and sagging cushions. Every few days he thought about replacing it. Ditto for the scarred, fake early American coffee table where he’d stacked his sock-clad feet. In fact, this place really was a dump. Clean and tidy, because he’d spent too long in the military, but not homey. He really should decide whether he was going to stay or go. If he committed, he’d buy a house.
He’d been telling himself that for heading onto a year now.
Jed was in the middle of a Larry McMurtry novel that wasn’t quite within hand’s reach. He eyed it and debated whether he should sit up and grab it or just zone out.
He hadn’t made up his mind when his phone rang. Mumbling some profanities, Jed put his feet on the floor and snagged his phone from the coffee table, taking in the phone number. Dispatch. Did this qualify as a presentiment or what?
“Dawson.”
“Detective, Deputy Aguilar asked me to call. A woman was assaulted tonight during what he thinks was a rustling incident. Horses, not cattle.”
Jed snapped to attention. This was a presentiment. Despite reason telling him there were plenty of women ranchers in this county, he knew who she’d turn out to be.
“Where’s Aguilar?”
“Still cruising the area in hopes of spotting a vehicle.” She gave him the gist: Alex Burke from the Arrowhead Creek Ranch had been driving home, happened to glance toward the LB Kiger Ranch and saw a struggle. “The man had a foal on a lead rope,” she continued. “He ran when Mr. Burke turned in. Mr. Burke said he would have given chase, but chose to stay with the injured woman.”
“And Linette? Ms. Broussard? Where is she?”
“On her way to the hospital in Madras, with a head injury.”
“Tell Aguilar he can reach me there.” He cut her off, found his shoes, grabbed his weapon, badge, wallet and keys, and went out the door.
He’d done his damndest to stay away from Linette, but he knew when he was beaten.
At this time of night, there wasn’t much traffic. If there had been any, he’d have cleared his way with lights and siren even though that wasn’t completely justified. As it was, he stayed about ten miles over the speed limit, headlights on high. The only danger was the chance of wildlife crossing the road in front of him. He tried to keep his attention sharp even as he brooded.
He should have asked more about the head injury. Was Linette in a coma? Had she suffered a skull fracture?
His hands flexed on the steering wheel.
He should have been there. She shouldn’t have had to depend on a passing stranger to save her. Or was Alex a stranger? What if he’d turned in to see Linette? He was a good-looking guy, personable, wealthy by more than Hayes County standards. There were only four ranches out that way. They must be acquainted, at least.
Jed let out a disbelieving laugh. He was jealous. He’d had her, and let her go. Now the idea of her with another man stung. No, it hit him like a two-by-four to the chest. And he had no right at all.
Then he relapsed to worrying about whether she might be in a coma. What if he got to the hospital to find she’d died?
No, someone would call him.
He reached the hospital, a low-slung, modern brick building, parked in a spot marked for emergency vehicles and walked into the ER. No surprise to see the place was busy despite it being after one in the morning. A baby sobbed as a woman walked in circles jiggling her. A teenage boy curled forward in his chair as if his stomach hurt. A man whose pallor looked worrisome was being comforted by his wife.
Jed went straight to the receptionist, who called back and said someone would be out to talk to him. Waiting, he paced the hall, senses locked on the doors leading into the treatment area. It seemed like an eternity but was actually only ten minutes before a plump nurse in neon pink scrubs called his name.
Ms. Broussard was conscious, but currently having a CT-scan. That had been delayed while they called a technician in. “I’m afraid we’re a small hospital,” she explained.
“I understand.” And didn’t like it. Home in Atlanta, Linette would have had an MRI by now. “I’d like to wait in her cubicle.”
“If you’re here to ask questions…”
“I am,” he said, “but I’ve known Linette for many years. I’m as close to family as she has in the area.”
She grudgingly decided to take him at his word, warning him as she led him in back not to press Ms. Broussard for answers yet.
“Head injuries can be tricky.”
“I won’t.” His fear for Linette outweighed his painful need to catch the bastard who hurt her.
Once in her cubicle, he sat for about thirty seconds before shooting to his feet again. He wanted to go out and pace…but the ER wasn’t very big. All he’d be doing was stalking back and forth in front of the nurse’s station. He couldn’t risk someone questioning his presence.
Christ. He’d been mostly numb for so long, this storm of emotions crowded inside him like a jumble of broken bones. How would she react when she saw him? What if she asked for him to be removed?
Nothing I can do, he knew, feeling sick now, too.
Jed had just made himself sit down when a cheerful man’s voice and the faint but distinct sound of rolling wheels approached. Without thought, he was on his feet again when a young guy in scrubs steered the bed into the room.
Jed backed out of the way. His first sight of her scared him again. Her face had no color at all. The man in the waiting room had nothing on her. Her eyes were closed, her rich brown hair a mess. Blood matted it above her right temple. A bruise had already crept down her forehead and slid like a purple shadow beneath her eye.
Jed made an involuntary exclamation as he stepped forward. She opened her eyes and saw him. Damn, he’d forgotten how beautiful those eyes were, green-gold. She didn’t so much as blink. He didn’t either, not wanting to miss even a flicker of a second, unable to look away.
*****
Jedediah Dawson, in the flesh. As stunning as ever. Too bad he hadn’t acquired an ugly slash on his face during one of his last deployments. Instead, he might be even better looking, classically handsome with sharply angled cheekbones, a thin nose, sexy mouth and eyes of a rare crystalline blue rimmed with navy. Haunted eyes. His wheat colored hair had darkened. The strong neck exposed by the open collar of his shirt told her he hadn’t lost muscle tone. He was tanned, and all that extraordinarily expressionless face revealed was wariness.
Whatever Linette had expected of a first meeting, numbness wasn’t it. Truthfully, it came as a relief. She hadn’t wanted to feel anything. Why should she?
“Jed,” she ac
knowledged. “I suppose you have questions.”
“I told the nurse we’re friends. That’s why she let me back.”
“You lied.”
A nerve ticked beneath one eye, an astonishing betrayal of emotion for a man who didn’t feel any. “No,” he said quietly.
Weariness sapped Linette’s ability to deal with him. She turned her head on the pillow so she could no longer see him.
“Ignoring me won’t make me go away.” His voice was the same, too, low, dark, still carrying a hint of the south.
“Why not? You’re good at going away.”
The silence made her hope he had walked out. She knew he could do so without so much as a scuff of a boot sole. Then she heard a scrape across the vinyl floor. A chair. He’d just pulled up a chair.
So what?
Her head ached fiercely. The doctor had said they’d give her something once she had the CT-scan. With her eyes closed, she felt herself swinging the bat, connecting with a shoulder instead of the man’s head. Too bad. He’d been fast, recovering quicker than she could get the bat back for another swing. He’d seized it, wrenched it from her grip and flung it away. Then he grabbed something from his hip – it had to be a gun. She remembered his swing, the agony, her falling into darkness.
“Don’t,” Jed said from the side of her bed.
“Don’t what?”
“You’re reliving what happened. Your muscles are twitching. You moaned.”
“I did not!” Despite herself, she rolled her head to see him.
He’s risen to his feet and was looking down at her, his forehead creased. “Yeah, you did. Damn it, Linette—!”
All the Lost Little Horses (A Desperation Creek Novel Book 2) Page 6
