The Gamble

by Kristen Ashley

  Fight, scratch, kick, bite, scream, sweetheart, scream! Charlie ordered.

  I screamed, loud and shrill and I kept doing it as I fought, punching, shifting, flailing, scratching and kicking. We’d come to rest on an outcrop of rock that felt hard, cold and abrasive even through my clothes as we wrestled on top of it and I kept screaming as I kept fighting. I gave it all I had but Harry got me to my back and straddled me. I continued to pound on his chest, scratch at his neck and kick out with my legs, bucking my hips and shrieking in terror as both his big mountain man hands cupped either side of my head, yanking it up so my chin was in my throat and I knew he was going to pound it into the rock. My fingers wrapped around his wrists and I pulled out hard but didn’t succeed in moving his hands.

  SCREAM! Charlie shouted.

  I screamed.

  Then Harry was gone because Max was there, tackling him from the side, they both went flying. I sucked in breath, relief so extreme it felt like it ripped through me, shredding my insides. I scrambled back on all fours and ran into something then hands were in my armpits and I was being dragged back.

  I screamed again but over my scream I heard Jeff shout, “Maxwell!”

  My body stilled and my eyes searched through the darkness to see Max and Harry at the edge of the outcrop, Harry on his knees, Max on his feet, one of his fists holding Harry up at the collar, both of Harry’s hands scratching at Max’s forearm as his legs scrambled desperately in an attempt to get his feet underneath him and Max’s other fist repeatedly, with sickening thud after sickening thud, connected with Harry’s face.

  “Max!” Another shout, this one from Mick as he ran and skidded through the snow toward Max but Max didn’t stop.

  “You okay?” Jeff asked, I nodded my lie, my eyes never leaving Max as I watched Harry’s legs quit scrambling and his hands weakening in their struggles against Max’s forearm.

  Jeff took off just as Mick made it to Max, wrapping both arms around him he yanked him back but Max wasn’t to be stopped. Jeff made it to the trio and then I saw Cotton materialize out of nowhere, then Brody was there and Steve, Darren, George, some guys I’d never seen before and finally Pete and it took all of them to pull Harry one way and Max the other.

  Once they disconnected, Max jerked his body away and shrugged off the hands on him, standing still as a statue, only his chest moving, his breaths coming heavy, the cold tufts of them gusting fast and hard from his mouth, lighting in the moonlight and his head was tipped down, his eyes glued to Harry. Harry had collapsed to his front but up on an elbow with his head bent as if he couldn’t hold it up.

  I pushed up to my feet, completely oblivious to the snow that covered me, matted wet and cold in my hair, embedded in my clothes and I stumbled to Max. I was two feet away before he turned to me. I felt his eyes hit me through the darkness and my knees gave way before I made it those last two feet.

  But I didn’t fall because Max caught me in his arms and hauled me deep into his large, tall, strong body, holding me close, holding me tight, holding me safe.

  Told you he was close, Charlie said in my head, his voice teasing but relieved.

  It was funny and I would have laughed if I wasn’t busy bursting into tears.

  “I got you, Duchess,” Max’s gravelly voice rumbled in my ear.

  I lifted my arms to wrap him as tight as I could with the little energy I had left and I shoved my face in his neck. One of Max’s arms stayed locked around me and his other hand slid up, palm warm on my neck, fingers in my wet, snow tangled hair and he held my face to his warmth as I sobbed.

  “I got you, baby,” he whispered. “You’re safe. I got you.”

  I nodded into his neck and when I had it together enough, I whispered, “Bitsy’s up there somewhere. Shauna too.”

  “All right, darlin’,” Max muttered, I felt his lips leave my ear and he asked someone else quietly, “You hear that?”

  “We’re on it,” I heard Mick say then I felt Max’s breath warm again on my neck.

  “Hold tight, Duchess,” he urged and I did the best I could do and held even tighter. “That’s it,” he whispered, his arm returning the favor.

  Things were happening around us, people talking, moving, Steve’s murmur from behind me, his hand touching my hair before it fell away but nothing penetrated the fortress Max had built around me with his arms, his body, his strength. All that was my world was being held in his arms.

  When I got myself together, I whispered, “Max?”

  “Right here, Nina,” he whispered back immediately, “I’m always right here, honey.”

  I hiccoughed another sob and pressed deeper into him.

  Then I asked, “Will you take me home?”

  Again, Max answered immediately, “Absolutely.”

  Then he bent, lifting me in his arms, he carried me through the snow and pine trees of a Colorado mountain, straight to his Cherokee where he set me gently in the passenger seat, buckled me in safely, folded into the driver’s side and then he took me home.

  Epilogue

  Final Visits

  I walked into the A-frame carrying my bags and shouting, “Max!”

  I received no reply.

  I dumped the bags on the dining table, considered for a moment how angry Max was going to get when he saw that I’d bought myself a whole new outfit (including shoes and underwear), decided that he’d be pretty angry (until he saw the underwear) then I shouted again, “Max! I’m home! Where are you?”

  I was shouting because now, if you couldn’t see the person whose attention you wanted, you needed to shout in the A-frame. This was because Max had built off both sides.

  One side, off the kitchen, was a one story, huge family room that was stuffed full of furniture that invited you to lounge and do it a long time (and we did); a big flat screen TV on the wall; and inset shelves all around filled with books, CDs and DVDs. There was another enormous stone fireplace in there that helped to heat the space in the winters and made it even cozier and it was already, no matter how big it was, pretty cozy considering the high lounge factor of the furniture.

  The living room also included an enormous wedding portrait taken by none other than Jimmy Cotton. It was a portrait that, personally, I thought was far and away Cotton’s masterpiece.

  It was a black and white candid of me in my ivory gown, Max in his dark suit. Max had guided me away from the party for a private moment and he had an arm light around my waist. I had a hand light on his neck. My head was tipped back, Max’s tipped down so our faces were close. We were talking, about what I didn’t recall, but whatever it was, even though we were both in profile, you could see Max had a small smile playing about his mouth and I had a huge one on mine, like I was about ready to burst out laughing. We both looked happy, we looked natural standing close and touching and, best of all, we looked obviously, unashamedly and completely in love.

  I adored that picture. It was my favorite thing in the house and I never tired of looking at it even though Max teased me (frequently) when he caught me lost in study of that picture.

  At the other side of the house, off the great room, Max built on two stories with two bedrooms and a bath downstairs. Upstairs was Max and my master suite with a big bathroom and a sitting room. I loved that master suite, it was beautiful, but I missed being with Max in our loft which we now used as a guest room whenever Mom and Steve or friends from England came visiting.

  Therefore, considering the fact that even with me shouting, Max might not hear me, I went in search of him.

  As I moved through our house, I tried not to think of seeing Shauna at the mall with her husband. I hadn’t seen her in ages, it had to have been at least two years, and seeing her brought up thoughts that hadn’t occupied my mind in a long time. Thoughts I didn’t want to have but thoughts, whenever they started to crowd in, I couldn’t keep at bay.

  Word was, Shauna lived just outside Carnal now, a town about thirty miles away. Gossip in Gnaw Bone reported she actually loved this guy.
Seeing him for the first time, I was surprised. He was shorter than her, older than her and not nearly as physically attractive as her. Gossip also said he wasn’t exactly rolling in the dough but she was content in her average house with her husband’s average salary.

  Max said it was bullshit since she still didn’t work and likely she had her eyes peeled for her next target just like always.

  My thoughts were that it might not be bullshit. Even an ice queen would rethink her life’s path when, because of her actions, her mantoy gets murdered leaving his kids fatherless; her previous life path set her up to be framed for multiple murders; and when it came out she tried to fleece her lifelong best friend, everyone in town stopped not liking her and started actively hating her and they were not afraid to show it even if she’d survived a significant trauma.

  As they would, thoughts of Shauna unfortunately led to thoughts of that night and what came of it.

  Mom had seen Damon carrying me to his truck and she’d called Max immediately. Just as immediately, Max sprung into action, calling Mick at the same time he and Steve started their search for me. Max and Steve had found Damon not thirty minutes later since he was not hard to find, seeing as his truck and body were off the main road just a couple miles out town.

  With Damon down and me gone, my purse still in Damon’s truck and there being no word or sighting to prove me safe, confusion reigned so Max talked Mick into setting up an all-out manhunt or, in this case, a womanhunt.

  It was not lost on Max that as word flew through Gnaw Bone and every man and most of the women in town dropped what they were doing to join the hunt, Harry was the only one unavailable to participate. Things became clearer when Bitsy’s sister reported that Bitsy was missing and they couldn’t get hold of her and they never couldn’t get hold of her. Mick ran a search on properties that Curt, Bitsy and Harry owned and found a hunting cabin Harry had and, upon learning this knowledge, Max and Steve headed to the cabin and Mick, Jeff, Brody and the rest followed.

  By the time Max found me, Harry had had me for seven hours. It wouldn’t be until much later, indeed when we were in my bed in Charlie’s house in England, that he would confess that those seven hours “were the worst seven hours of my fuckin’ life, Duchess.”

  I hated Harry because he made Max experience that fear. And I hated him even more because he made my Mom and Steve experience it too. The only good thing to come of it was that I didn’t stay in Gnaw Bone an extra week and Max didn’t come to England for a couple of weeks’ visit. Instead, I stayed in Gnaw Bone an extra week and Max came to England and stayed with me for three months as I worked my notice, sold Charlie’s house and prepared to leave my old life behind.

  Since that day, outside of working, trips to the mall or grocery store, when Max was in town doing something for his Mom and other normal life things, Max was never far away from me. He was usually right there and if he wasn’t, he could be right there in under thirty minutes.

  This wasn’t suffocating. When you’d been kidnapped and narrowly missed being shot to death, having a mountain man at your back was reassuring.

  And having an amazing man love you so much that experiencing the threat of losing you meant he didn’t like you far away was beyond reassuring. It was beautiful.

  Harry had shot Damon in the heart therefore he was dead before his face hit the dirt. He wasn’t missed much because he was a serious jerk but no one believed that was appropriate comeuppance, even if he was a serious jerk.

  Harry had confessed to three counts of murder, conspiracy to commit murder and four counts of kidnapping for, in the end, he’d kidnapped Bitsy too. Even if he confessed to the crimes, he still received a life sentence as, I thought, he definitely should. Max was of another mind, namely the death sentence but since the state of Colorado had only put one man to death since 1976, Max had to make do with Harry not breathing free and having plenty of time to reflect on his actions for the rest of his sad, wasted life.

  Bitsy had confessed to conspiracy to commit murder.

  The fallout had rocked the town of Gnaw Bone for no one suspected either Harry or Bitsy. Both of them were well-liked and the entire town was stunned that not only did they perpetrate this heinous deed (or, in Harry’s case, deeds, plural), they’d planned it for years.

  That said, whether it was right or wrong, no one blamed Bitsy much. Curt had crippled her, killed her best friend, flagrantly cheated on her, gave money to his mistress and forced Bitsy, in a variety of ways, into a life she didn’t want to lead both in a wheelchair and also living in that house that lorded over the whole town. But the bottom line was, she spent years planning her husband’s murder. Nevertheless, her confession and the extenuating circumstances meant her sentence was relatively light but she was still in jail and would be for awhile.

  Although I had been caught up in their mess, Max also didn’t blame Bitsy (much). This was because Bitsy, who had been hiding her bitterness against her husband, didn’t hide her repentance for what she, no matter what anyone told her (including me when I visited her), blamed herself that she’d led Harry to do. She took responsibility for all of it, most especially what happened to me. The events leading on from Curtis Dodd’s murder broke her. It wasn’t jail that broke her; she had, in her mind, the end of four lives on her hands and what happened to me.

  In an effort to make amends, she sold Curt’s business to Max for a song. He argued with her about the deal but she refused to listen. She wanted to do her bit to keep Max in town with me and to keep Max and I fed and happy and she somehow convinced mountain man Max to take the deal. He did and as he’d said he’d do, he downsized the operation. Even so, with Max’s reputation as a man as well as for his quality craftsmanship, he kept his crew busy, his family fed and more than comfortable at the same time we, since I bought my lawyer’s desk and installed it in George’s offices when he and I formed a partnership, kept our mountain clean.

  I completed my search for Max when I retraced my steps back to the kitchen and I mentally, and thankfully, shrugged off my thoughts when I saw Max’s note.

  Duchess,

  Charlie and me are out.

  Max

  I held the note and stared at it.

  They were out. Out. Now. When we should all be getting ready.

  I saw movement to my side and looked down at the big, fluffy gray cat who had her bottom in the air, her chest to the floor and her paws straight out in front of her, stretching and yawning at the same time, as usual oblivious to her mother’s irritation.

  The cat was my idea, Max wanted a dog. He only capitulated because when I really pushed him about the cat, it was when I told him he was going to get Charlie.

  So I got my cat.

  “My husband is annoying,” I told the feline.

  She quit stretching and blinked at me communicating complete unconcern.

  I smiled at her, dropped the note, moved to my cat and gave her bottom some scratches before I walked out of the A-frame. I rounded it, saw the barn doors opened and rolled my eyes. Then I climbed to the barn, unlocked the safe, grabbed the keys and hopped on an ATV. I turned it in the barn and took off to search for my husband and son on our mountain.

  I knew Max and Charlie had several special spots but whenever I needed to drag them back home (which was often) I usually found them at the first spot I checked.

  I rounded the trail at the top of the hill that rose up from the back of Max’s bluff and I stopped the ATV when I looked down and my eyes hit the scene in front of me.

  Max was down there, in jeans and a t-shirt, his skin tanner than normal because he worked outside a lot and it was summer. He was sitting in the dirt (as he would since he didn’t do the laundry), knees up, Charlie in his lap tucked between his chest and thighs. Max’s head was turned away from me and toward the view. I couldn’t really see my son’s dark-haired head but I could see he probably wasn’t studying the view because he was, at that moment, banging on his father’s knees with his little baby fists.
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br />   I sighed my annoyance but even though I was the only one who could hear it, I didn’t mean it.

  Leave them be, Charlie said in my head.

  “We need to get ready,” I whispered into the wind.

  Look at them, Neenee Bean, Charlie urged but he didn’t have to, my eyes hadn’t left Max and our son.

  The Charlie in Max’s lap twisted so he was facing his father, his little baby legs pumping and his little baby fists banging now on his Dad’s shoulders. Max didn’t try to control Charlie’s fists; he just wrapped his son in his arms and bent his neck so his face was in Charlie’s. Therefore Charlie took that as his cue to grab Max’s ear and I heard the wind carry my husband’s chuckle mingled with my son’s baby laughter back to me.

  I felt my lips smile.

  Leave them be, Charlie repeated.

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  Love you, Neenee Bean, Charlie said to me.

  “Love you too, Charlie,” I replied.

  Then I turned the ATV around and headed home.

  * * * * *

  “When we get home, babe, we’ll be talkin’ about you goin’ out on the ATV,” Max growled into my ear and I turned my head to him just as Charlie launched himself out of my lap and at his father’s chest.

  With practiced ease, Max caught the ever-active Charlie and pulled him close.

  “What?” I asked with feigned innocence.

  “Went to lock up the barn and saw one of the ATVs wasn’t where I left it. Since Charlie can’t sit astride one yet that leaves you and, like I said, when we get home we’ll be talkin’ about you goin’ out on an ATV.”

  My eyes left Max’s to look over his shoulder and they skidded through the church pews that were full to bursting. I could see the entire church since we were beside Barb and Brody in the front pew. As I did this, I was thinking that I should have taken note of where the ATV was when I took it and I should have put it back where I found it.