Mason

by Delores Fossen

  She didn’t answer, and that revved up his heartbeat even more. He wanted to call out her name again, but that wasn’t a wise choice. Her captor could use the sound of Mason’s voice to aim and take Mason out. That couldn’t happen. If Mason got shot, he couldn’t save, and it was clear that Abbie needed saving.

  Staying low, Mason shoved some of the underbrush aside. No Abbie. It was too dark to follow the drag marks, and the gunfight was drowning out sounds that he needed to hear.

  What the devil was going on? Had Greer managed to take her? If so, it wasn’t hard to figure out why. According to Ford’s rule, Abbie had to die in front of Boone. Greer wouldn’t just give up on the kind of money he was earning for this. No. He and maybe even his boss were still trying to set up the kill.

  And Mason had to stop it.

  He tore his way through the underbrush and came to some trees that rimmed the west part of the cemetery. Where his mother’s grave was located.

  Where Greer would try to kill Abbie.

  But there were no signs of either of them here.

  However, Mason did hear something. He tried to pick through the din of gunfire to pinpoint the low sound he’d heard. A moan. But not just an ordinary moan.

  This was one of pain.

  He tried not to panic. Hard to do when it could be Abbie who’d made that sound. Abbie, in pain. Mason scrambled to the side and nearly tripped over something.

  Except it wasn’t a something.

  It was a someone.

  The moonlight helped him, and Mason looked down at the twisted face of Vernon Ferguson. The front of the man’s shirt looked shiny black, but Mason knew it was blood.

  He’d been shot.

  Ferguson clutched Mason’s arm. “I didn’t do this,” he got out.

  Mason made a yeah-right sound, and he picked up the gun by Ferguson’s side, but something wasn’t right. After all, Ferguson had been shot. He was dying.

  And someone had done this to him.

  “If you didn’t put this plan together, then why are you here?” Mason demanded.

  “Greer called and said if I wanted to watch Abbie die, I should come.”

  “Hard to believe that’s the only reason. Did Greer decide to kill you—his boss—and collect the money for himself?” Mason asked. He didn’t look at Ferguson. He kept watch around him in case this was some kind of ambush.

  “I’m not his boss.” Ferguson’s mouth stretched into a creepy smile. “I wanted to keep Abbie alive. It’s more fun when she’s alive.”

  Mason shook his head. In some sick twisted way, that made sense. Ferguson couldn’t torment a dead woman. Did that mean Greer was working alone? Maybe. But it didn’t matter. Greer and the rifleman were just as dangerous.

  He had to get to Abbie.

  “Where is she?” Mason demanded, and he threw off Ferguson’s grip.

  Ferguson shook his head, and Mason knew he couldn’t waste any more time. With his gun in one hand and Ferguson’s in the other, Mason ran toward the clearing. Toward his mother’s grave.

  And that’s when he saw Abbie.

  She was alive, thank God, but there was blood trickling down the side of her face. In the pale moonlight, she looked like a ghost.

  Mason started to run to her. But he came to a dead stop. Because Abbie wasn’t alone. Someone was standing behind her.

  And that someone had a gun pointed directly at her head.

  * * *

  EVERYTHING WAS SWIMMING in and out of focus, but Abbie blinked, trying to fight her way out of the arm that was vised around her neck. Hard to do with the blow to the head. It had not only made her temporarily lose consciousness, she was now woozy and weak.

  Who was behind her? Who had the gun to her head?

  Greer probably. And she was betting he didn’t intend to keep her alive much longer.

  “Let her go,” she heard Mason say. His voice was low, a dangerous growl, and despite the gunfire on the other side of the cemetery, she had no trouble hearing him.

  Or seeing him.

  Every muscle in his face and body was rock hard. Primed for a fight. But it didn’t take a clear head for her to know that he didn’t have a shot. Not with her captor using her as a human shield.

  “Stay put, Mason,” her captor called out. “Boone, get out here now!”

  For a moment Abbie thought her injury had caused her mind to play tricks on her ears. She’d expected Greer’s voice, but it wasn’t.

  It was Rodney Stone’s.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Mason said. “There are other ways to get money.”

  “Not Ford’s money,” Stone fired back. “He was my friend, and he would expect me to do this for him.”

  Abbie groaned. So it wasn’t just about the money. It might have been easier to talk him out of it if it had been.

  “Boone?” Stone shouted again. “The camera’s waiting for you.”

  Abbie glanced up and saw the camera mounted in the tree. It was pointed directly at her.

  “Get out here now or I shoot Mason,” Stone warned.

  “You’re planning to shoot me anyway,” Mason countered, and he inched forward, his gun aimed and ready in case he got a clear shot.

  “True,” Stone verified. “But I can make it quick and painless. Or I can make you suffer. Make Abbie suffer, too.”

  The threat went through her. And Mason. She could see the fear on his face. The raw frustration, as well. He couldn’t stop this, and it was killing him.

  Abbie wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Mason just yet, but she had to accept that it was exactly what she might have to do. And it broke her heart. It had taken her more than three decades to fall in love, and here she’d had only minutes to savor it.

  “Boone!” Stone yelled again. He moved the gun to Abbie’s belly. “How long will it take her to bleed out? Get out here now or you’ll learn the answer to that the hard way.”

  Mason took a step closer. “You set the fire at the ranch?” he asked.

  The question threw her, and judging from the way Stone’s arm tense, it threw him, too. “Why the hell would that matter now?”

  “Because I want to know why I’m about to die.” Mason kept his eyes trained on Stone. “I figure the fire was to draw Boone out. It was the fastest way to get him to Silver Creek.”

  “You want a gold star, Deputy?” Stone mocked. “Because I’m fresh out of them. And Boone’s fresh out of time.”

  Stone was ready to pull the trigger. Abbie had no doubt about that, and while the shot probably wouldn’t kill her, she braced herself for the pain that she would feel. And the pain she would see on Mason’s face.

  There was movement to her right. It happened so fast that Abbie only got a glimpse of Boone before he dived right at them. He crashed into them, sending all three of them to the ground.

  Stone fired, the sound of the bullet so close that it was deafening.

  Abbie rolled to the side, trying to move away from Stone’s gun. She also tried to move Mason and Boone out of the way.

  She failed.

  Mason was there, right in the tangle of bodies. Fists were flying. Blood splattered across her face, but she had no idea whose it was.

  Abbie reached out and held Stone’s hand so he couldn’t fire again.

  But it was too late.

  He fired.

  The blast went through her, and it took her a moment to realize she hadn’t been hit.

  Boone had.

  Stone’s shot went straight into Boone’s chest.

  Abbie heard herself scream, and she tried to get to him. She failed at that, too. Stone lifted the gun again, ready to kill Mason.

  But the other shot came first.

  The moment seemed to freeze. She glanced at Mason. Then at the gun in Boone’s hand. The one he’d just used to shoot Stone.

  Stone fell back, his eyes wide-open and lifeless.

  Because the world was starting to spin around, Abbie would have fallen, too, but Mason was right there to catch her
in his arms.

  Chapter Twenty

  Mason handed Abbie the small carton of orange juice that he’d gotten from the vending machine. “You should drink something,” he insisted.

  She looked up at him from the seat in the surgical waiting room. Her eyes were glazed with fatigue. Her shoulders, slumped. It had been a long night, and the end wasn’t in sight yet because Boone was in surgery, and the initial report was that he was in critical condition from Stone’s gunshot wound.

  A wound that could ultimately kill him.

  “You should drink something, too,” she insisted right back.

  Mason held up his cup of black coffee for her to see. It was his third.

  She managed a frown. “Something healthier.”

  He would do that. Later. Maybe they could have a big family breakfast, especially because all his brothers, their wives, the kids, their nannies and even Bessie were scattered around the room. All waiting for Boone to get out of surgery.

  His father, Mason mentally corrected.

  Because he had certainly come through for them tonight. He’d saved Abbie, and Mason would be eternally grateful to him for that. It didn’t erase the past. Or the hurt. But it was a start.

  “Mel just finished questioning Nicole,” Dade told everyone after finishing yet another call. His brother had taken over tying up the loose ends of the investigation. Good thing, too, because Mason just wasn’t up to it.

  It would take a while for him to get over how close Abbie had come to dying tonight. Grayson clearly felt the same about Eve and his baby because he had both of them in his lap and was holding on for dear life. Gage was doing pretty much the same to Lynette.

  “It doesn’t look as if Nicole had anything to do with this,” Dade added. “Nor Ferguson.”

  Mason agreed. Ferguson was dead but had used his dying breath to say he hadn’t been involved. Even though Ferguson was a slimy snake, there had been no reason for him to lie at that point. Plus, even if he had, it didn’t matter. He’d died on the way to the hospital. The man was no longer a threat to Abbie or anyone else.

  Abbie opened the orange juice, took a sip and handed it to him. Mason surrendered and put his coffee on the floor so he could drink. It tasted like acid, probably because his stomach was still churning.

  She took his hand and drew him down into the seat next to her. Mason went one step further and slipped her arm around him so he could pull her closer. His brothers would notice.

  But he didn’t care.

  He brushed a kiss on her forehead. Then her cheek. And what the heck. He kissed her. In hindsight, he wished he’d done it sooner because the heat from the kiss melted some of that ice in his blood.

  When he finally pulled back, Abbie made a small sound of approval and eased right back into his arms. “Don’t sell the paint mare.”

  Now, that was not something Mason expected to hear her say. He cocked his head so he could meet her gaze. And her second frown of the past five minutes.

  “It settles my mind to think of the horses and the ranch,” she mumbled as if he would understand.

  And he did. Because it was exactly how he felt. The ranch was what centered him. Always had. Well, until now. It disturbed him a little to think that the kiss with Abbie had done the same thing. Maybe better.

  “The only person who can handle the mare is you,” Mason pointed out. He hadn’t intended that to sound like an invitation with strings attached.

  But it was.

  She stared at him. “Does that mean I have my job back?”

  He stared back at her. “As a minimum.”

  A really low minimum.

  Mason realized he had things to say to her, but he needed to lay some groundwork first. “We’ll need to get official approval from Marshal McKinney, but with Ferguson and Stone out of the picture, there’s no reason for you to go back into witness protection.”

  “So I could work with the mare.” Abbie nodded. Paused. Her mouth quivered a little. “Would I get to sleep with the boss?”

  Okay. The groundwork was going pretty darn fast. “As often as you want.”

  Now she smiled. “Good, because I’d like that often.” She slipped her hand around the back of his neck, drew him closer and kissed him.

  She tasted like sunshine, and Mason didn’t think the juice was responsible for that.

  He kissed her until his breath was thin. Until his mind was jumbled from the heat. And until he heard someone clear their throat.

  Gage.

  He was grinning at them, but Mason realized that they’d become the center of everyone’s attention. None of the adults were sleeping now. All eyes were fixed on them.

  Oh, man.

  He was not the sort of person to make public announcements about his feelings, but every single one of them probably knew or suspected that he’d taken Abbie to his bed. And not just to his bed. Heck, he’d taken her virginity.

  But even that didn’t seem to play into this.

  Strange. Mason had thought that being Abbie’s first would somehow make him feel as if he’d been trapped in a foxhole. However, what he was feeling wasn’t of the trapped variety.

  Mason looked at his family. Then at Abbie. And he thought about the future. Not about the mare she’d train. Not about sleeping with the boss.

  Even though he really liked that idea.

  However, what he liked most was that she loved him. She’d said it—more than once—and Mason believed her. She loved him. He didn’t know why. He damn sure didn’t deserve it.

  But she loved him anyway.

  And there was something else.

  “I’m in love with Abbie,” he let everyone know. Best to get it out there in the open.

  Then he looked at Abbie to see what her reaction was.

  She smiled. Just smiled. Before she kissed him again.

  “About time you figured it out,” Grayson mumbled.

  “He’s always been slow,” Gage piped in, causing Nate, Kade and Dade to bob their heads in agreement.

  “I’m sitting right here,” Mason reminded them when he broke the kiss. “I can hear you.”

  They were clearly all aware of that, and they were also enjoying this a little too much. Later, he’d sneak Abbie off for some private kisses and some other stuff—if he got lucky.

  “You love me,” she whispered against his mouth.

  “Yeah, I do. You okay with that?”

  “Better than okay.” The next kiss was a little too long and hot, considering they still had an audience. “And it means I get to work with the mare.” She winked at him.

  Mason laughed before he could stop himself. “You’re right. I think you got a pretty good shot at job security.”

  The smiles and the light mood vanished when the waiting room door opened, and Dr. Mickelson walked in. Mason had known the doc his entire life and had never been able to read his face. This time was no different.

  “Boone made it through surgery,” he finally said.

  That set off a flurry of long breaths and sighs of relief, but none of them said a word. A few stood. All stared and waited.

  “The bullet damaged his lung and one of his kidneys, but we managed to repair everything. He’s still listed in serious condition and in the recovery room next door, which normally means he wouldn’t be seeing anyone right now, but he’s asking for all of you.

  “There are some rules,” the doctor said when they all started to move in the direction of recovery. “This visit will last a minute, maybe less, and none of you will say anything to upset him.”

  “He saved Abbie,” Mason said. “I just want to thank him.” He paused. “And welcome him back to the ranch.”

  Mason stared at the others, waiting for an objection. He got a few raised eyebrows. A shrug or two. But no one objected.

  “All right.” The doctor nodded. “This way. But for the record, I’m getting a little tired of stitching up Rylands. The next time I see any of you back in here, it’d better be for baby deliveries, an
d nothing more serious than sniffles.”

  Dr. Mickelson looked first at Lynette and then at Darcy, who were both in the early stages of pregnancy.

  “Kayla, too,” Dade proudly announced, and he gave his wife’s belly a fatherly pat. “We just found out this morning.”

  Normally, this was the point where Mason would have groaned and made a comment about not changing diapers or babysitting, but those things were starting to grow on him, too.

  A little.

  “Boone better get well fast,” the doctor remarked. “That’ll make, what, six grandkids and three more on the way? Y’all got your own baseball team there.”

  While the doctor herded them into Recovery, he also scooped Chet from Eve’s arms and gave the baby a quick examination. The baby was fine, Mason knew, because both Eve and Chet had been examined after they’d brought Boone in for surgery.

  Somehow Mason and Abbie ended up at the head of the clan, but they all managed to stuff themselves into the room. Abbie made a small sound in her throat. Definitely not a happy sound. Probably because Boone looked weak and pale. His eyes were barely open. Barely focused. But his gaze swept over them and he smiled.

  “The doc says you can come home in a day or two,” Bessie volunteered.

  His smile was weak but it widened. “I’d like that, but I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

  No one uttered anything. You could have heard a blasted pin drop.

  “It won’t be trouble,” Mason finally said. And it was the truth.

  Boone’s eyes watered and he nodded. Truth was, Mason’s eyes watered, too, and when he looked at Abbie he saw the tears rolling down her face.

  “The minute’s up,” the doctor announced. “Boone needs his rest.”

  “We’ll be back in the morning,” Mason let his father know. And when Boone reached out for him, Mason gave his hand a squeeze. “Thank you for saving Abbie and for everything else you did tonight.”

  The others came forward, echoing what Mason had said, and then they each filed out.

  “That was kind of you,” Abbie whispered when they were in the hall.

  Mason wiped the tears off her cheek. “Saying I love you must have put me in a good mood.” He shrugged. “That, and the fact that we’re all alive and mostly in one piece.”