Luke

by R. C. Ryan

  Mick stared into the flames, his tone thoughtful. “There was bad blood between Lars and Bull, though I never knew what caused it. Lars always played his cards close to his vest.” He eased himself up from his easy chair and picked up the empty bottle. “I’m turning in now. I’ll say good night.”

  “’Night, Mick.” Ingrid blew him a kiss.

  “See you in the morning,” Luke called.

  When they were alone, Luke passed his beer to Ingrid, who took a sip before passing it back to him. He drained it before linking his fingers with hers. “Ready to head upstairs?”

  She nodded.

  At the door to her room she paused. “I think I’d better sleep in here tonight.”

  “Okay. I get it. Lily’s back.” Luke reached around her to turn the knob.

  When he remained in the hallway, she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him inside her room before kissing him.

  He gave a shaky laugh. “It’s a really mean thing, to kiss me like this and then send me on my way.”

  “Who says I’m sending you away?”

  “I thought…” His smile grew. “You want me to stay?”

  “Not the night. Lily has a way of slipping into my bed when something wakes her. But I’d love it if you’d stay awhile.”

  “Just to rub your back or something?”

  She laughed. “It’s the ‘or something’ I’m hoping for.”

  He gathered her close and kissed her until they were both breathless. Against her mouth he whispered, “Woman, that’s the kind of invitation I just can’t resist.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I’ll dispose of this.” After finishing morning chores, Luke reached for the handles of the honey wagon and easily pushed it out of the barn.

  When he returned, Ingrid and Lily had already peeled off their work gloves and were hanging their pitchforks on hooks along the wall of the barn.

  They looked up when the sheriff’s car rolled up, trailed by a second car driven by his deputy.

  The two men stepped out and approached the barn.

  “’Morning, Ingrid.” Sheriff Graystoke touched the brim of his hat. “Lily. Luke.”

  Behind him, his deputy, Archer Stone, merely nodded a silent greeting.

  Where the sheriff was stocky, with broad shoulders and a slightly bulging middle, his deputy was trim and walked with a swagger. Eugene Graystoke’s uniform was rumpled and well-worn. Archer Stone’s was crisp, his badge polished to a high shine.

  “Bull Hammond showed me where your cattle were found.” The sheriff flipped a page in his dog-eared notebook. “Then we followed the route back to your property, where your herd is summering. It’s a direct path from there to Hammond’s ravine.”

  Luke’s eyes narrowed.

  Before he could say a word, Ingrid touched a hand to her sister’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go inside, honey, and let Mick know we’ll be in for breakfast in a few minutes?”

  “Okay.” Lily skipped away.

  When she was gone, Luke’s voice was low with a growing anger. “Are you saying, after a simple interview, you believe Hammond when he denies having anything to do with this?”

  Archer stepped up beside the sheriff, his eyes narrowed on Luke. “Watch your mouth, Malloy.”

  “I’ll let you watch it for me.” He directed his words toward the sheriff. “What are you saying?”

  Eugene kept his tone level. “I understand your frustration, Luke. I’m saying it’s not impossible to make the case that Ingrid’s cattle wandered away and found themselves in that ravine on Hammond’s land.”

  “They wandered away from the rest of the herd and then just stayed there?”

  “With enough lush grass and an endless supply of water in that stream, why would a herd make an effort to leave? Especially since they were surrounded by steep hills. It would have been much easier for them to wander in than to wander out.”

  “And this is the end of it?” Luke’s tone was pure ice. “You’re just going to walk away and give Bull Hammond the benefit of the doubt?”

  “That’s enough.” Archer reached out a closed fist toward Luke, and Eugene slapped it back, shooting his deputy a flinty look.

  “I know tempers are flaring. Let’s not add fuel to the fire.”

  He turned a resigned look toward Luke and Ingrid. “My hands are tied. Unless there’s a way to prove this was a deliberate act, carried out to cause harm, I can’t do anything more than watch and wait.”

  “You mean wait until the next incident? Like the range fire that destroyed Ingrid’s entire wheat crop? Like the death of her herding dog that looked suspiciously like poison? Like the shot fired that caused a herd of mustangs to stampede and nearly kill me?”

  “That’s right, Luke. And all of them without a shred of evidence to back up any claim that they were done with malice.”

  “And the shot through her bedroom window? Was that an unexplained incident, as well?”

  “That’s an entirely different thing. It’s clear that was no accident. That one was a deliberate act of violence. And I intend to continue to pursue any and all leads.”

  “How many leads do you have so far?”

  “Just one. Hammond claims to have been at the diner in Wayside at the time of that shot. Four of his wranglers backed up his claim. But I haven’t had a chance to interview Lon Wardell yet.”

  “Forget Wardell.” Archer Stone glanced at Ingrid before asking loudly, “What about Nadine Larsen?”

  Ingrid’s eyes betrayed her pain before she looked away.

  Eugene said, “I haven’t interviewed her, either.”

  Luke drew an arm around Ingrid’s shoulders. “Thanks, Sheriff.”

  Ingrid seemed to pull herself together. “Would you two like to come inside for coffee?”

  “Sorry, no time.” Eugene touched a hand to the brim of his hat. “Archer and I will be on our way, ma’am. You know to call me if anything at all happens.”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Ingrid stood beside Luke as the two police officers settled into their vehicles and drove off in a cloud of dust.

  When they were gone, Ingrid turned to Luke, eyes blazing. “How dare the deputy hint that Nadine could have fired that shot.”

  “I know it hurt you. And I admit that I wanted to put my fist in his face. But I guess we have to accept that everyone is a suspect.”

  She shook her head emphatically. “Not everyone. Not Nadine.”

  “And why not?”

  Her mouth was a thin, tight line of denial. “She may be guilty of a lot of things, but she would never try to kill me.”

  Luke realized with horror that she was dangerously close to tears. But was it from anger at what Archer had suggested? Or fear that the deputy could be right in his suspicions? From the look in her eyes when the question had first been posed, it was clear it had never occurred to her that Nadine would be a suspect. In truth, it hadn’t occurred to Luke, either.

  Banking his own emotions, he caught her hand and experienced a deep well of tenderness as he drew her close.

  Against her temple he muttered, “Come on. We both need food.”

  “Great breakfast, Mick.” Luke polished off his third cup before getting up from the table. “Let’s do the dishes, Li’l Bit. You wash, I’ll dry.”

  “Okay.” Lily deposited her dishes in the sink and turned on the taps.

  When Ingrid started to push away from the table, Luke stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. “Relax. We’ve got this.”

  Her smile returned. “All right. Then I guess I’ll head to the barn to saddle up. I want to see my herd.”

  “I’ll go with you as soon as we finish here.” Luke turned to Lily. “Want to ride along?”

  She shook her head. “I promised Mick I’d show him some of my pictures from the safari.”

  Ingrid paused at the back door. “When do I get to see them?”

  Lily gave a mysterious little smile. “You have to wait until your birthday.”<
br />
  “You mean I can’t see any of them?”

  The little girl shrugged. “Maybe. I guess I can show you some, but not all. That would spoil my surprise.”

  “I can’t believe I have to wait a month to see what Mick will see today.” Ingrid was muttering and shaking her head as she left the house.

  In the kitchen, Luke turned to Lily. “You’ve really got her going, Li’l Bit. I hope those pictures are worth it.”

  “Wait ’til you see, Luke.” Lily’s smile was radiant. “She’s going to love her birthday surprise.”

  Ingrid and Luke reined in their mounts at the top of the hill and stared around with matching looks of appreciation.

  “Oh.” Ingrid let out a long, slow breath. “It’s so good to see my herd together again. I really thought they were gone for good.”

  “Yeah.” Luke remained on the perimeter of the herd as she urged her horse into the very center of the milling cattle.

  She dismounted and led her mount as she walked among them, the look on her face telling him more than any words just how relieved she was feeling.

  Nearly an hour later she returned to his side, where he stood holding the reins of his horse.

  He reached over and took her hand. “I can tell you’re feeling much better.”

  “I am.” She gave him a bright smile. “I’m still not quite ready to believe Bull was telling the truth.” She looked up into his eyes to gauge his reaction. “But I have to admit there’s a possibility they just wandered off.”

  “Okay.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ll take that into consideration, though I’m still suspicious. It’s hard for me to declare that hothead Hammond innocent. What about the other incidents?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. A part of me wants to believe they were just a coincidence. But in my heart, I know better.” She glanced at their joined hands. “I’m so glad you’re here with me, Luke. But I know you’re neglecting your own ranch. How much longer can you afford to stay?”

  “As long as it takes.” He gathered her close and pressed his mouth to her temple. “Until all of this is resolved, I’m not going anywhere.” As they mounted, he indicated the stream in the distance. “Got time for a quick dip?”

  She laughed. “Will we get any swimming in?”

  “Probably not. But if nothing else, we’ll get in some hot exercise.”

  “Hot? You just said the magic word.” She urged her horse into a run. Over her shoulder she called, “Win, lose, or draw, it’s definitely time for you to scrub my back, cowboy. And then we can both cool down.”

  As they drew near the house, Luke caught the reins of Ingrid’s mount. “You go ahead inside and I’ll unsaddle these two and turn them into the pasture.”

  “Thanks.” She slid from the saddle and started toward the back door.

  Inside, she washed up at the sink before stepping into the kitchen. “I’m back, guys…”

  She stared around with a puzzled look. The kitchen was empty, the table clear. There was nothing on the stove or in the oven. The usual tantalizing scents were absent.

  She poked her head in Mick’s room off the kitchen. “Hey, sleepyhead, it’s dinnertime. Wake—”

  His bed was empty.

  “Mick! Where are you?” She raced toward the parlor. Seeing it empty, she hurried up the stairs and stepped into Lily’s room, which was also empty. Alarmed, she ran down the stairs and out to the barn.

  Luke was just rounding the corner of the barn, carrying the saddles toward a stall. Seeing her in the doorway, he frowned. “I had to haul feed and water to the pasture. You need to remind Mick and Lily about their chores—”

  He caught the look on her face and let the saddles drop. “What’s wrong?”

  “The house is empty.”

  “Maybe Mick and Lily needed something in town.”

  “The truck is still parked by the back door. Besides, if they were leaving, even on horseback, they would have left me a note.”

  “Maybe you missed it.”

  She was shaking her head. “Mick wouldn’t leave without leaving me a message. Oh, Luke, I’m—” Her words died as she caught sight of a booted foot sticking out from one of the stalls.

  Seeing the direction of her gaze, Luke raced to the spot.

  “Oh, no. Mick.” She dropped to her knees beside the still form of the old man, who lay in a pool of blood.

  At the sound of her voice, Mick’s lids flickered and he struggled to sit up. With a moan he fell back.

  “Don’t move, Mick. Thank heaven you’re alive. You took a nasty fall. How did this happen?”

  Luke dropped down beside her as Mick struggled to get the words out. “Hit. Shovel. Wardell…” Mick touched a hand to his bloody head. “Grabbed…Lily.”

  “Lily? Where? Why?” Terror had Ingrid by the throat. She could barely get the words out.

  The old man moaned, before his eyes flickered, then closed.

  “Mick.” Ingrid clutched at the old man’s shoulders. “Tell me where he’s taken Lily. Please.”

  Luke touched a hand to Mick’s throat. “His pulse is feeble. Probably shock. We can’t move him. I need some blankets.”

  “But Lily—”

  “You looking for the brat?” A whispered voice had both Luke and Lily frozen as a muzzle of a pistol was pressed against the back of Ingrid’s head. “She’s right over there.”

  When Luke made a move to get to his feet, he was hit so hard it sent him crashing into the side of the stall, causing the wood to splinter and fall, revealing Lily, bound and gagged, in the adjoining stall. As Luke struggled to get his bearings and stand, a shot rang out, and he felt a river of blood begin to spill from his arm as it dropped helplessly to his side.

  Ingrid let out a bloodcurdling scream.

  “That’s just a taste of what I’ve got in store for you, Malloy.”

  While Luke shook his head, trying to clear his vision, Lon Wardell’s voice echoed off the walls of the barn. “You move a muscle, cowboy, and your woman’s dead.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Luke watched in amazement as Ingrid spun toward Wardell, landing a fist in his midsection.

  “Why you…” Instead of disarming him, it made him even more furious. He brought the pistol across her temple, dropping her to her knees.

  Before she could clear her vision, her arms were twisted painfully behind her back and her wrists bound with plastic restraints. Wardell forced her to her feet and shoved her toward her little sister.

  Blood trickled from a cut on Lily’s head. Tears flowed freely down her face, but no sound came from her mouth, because it had been taped shut.

  Once there, Ingrid was knocked to the straw and her ankles tightly bound.

  “Oh, honey…” Ingrid attempted to soothe Lily, but her words were halted by a second blow to the head that had her moaning in pain.

  “Not one word. You hear me?” Wardell stood over them, his face twisted into a mask of fury. “The brat tried talking, and I taught her a lesson. You can learn from that, or you can learn the hard way.” He gave a shrill laugh. “Your choice, girlie.”

  Ingrid bit down hard on the cry that threatened to escape her lips.

  “Now that you understand the rules…” Wardell sat on a bale of straw, holding the pistol in one hand, while tilting a bottle of whiskey to his lips. “Isn’t this cozy?”

  As Luke struggled to tear off the sleeve of his shirt, he kept his gaze firmly on Wardell.

  “Look at that. A Boy Scout.” The gunman seemed to be enjoying Luke’s clumsy attempt to stem the flow of blood.

  Once Luke ripped the sleeve free, he wrapped it tightly around the gunshot wound, using his teeth to help tie a knot. As he fumbled with it, he managed to slip his cell phone from his shirt pocket. He knew he couldn’t look at it, or it would draw Lon’s attention. Instead, he blindly ran his finger down the list of favorites. Knowing many of his family could be in the hills, with no service available, the only ones he could count on were
Yancy and the Great One. He pressed the speed dial, hoping he’d counted correctly. Hoping they were home, or at least in an area of phone service. As he buried the phone beneath a layer of straw, he prayed whoever answered would persist in listening long enough to realize the importance of what he was hearing.

  Desperate to hide any sounds that might give away what he’d done, Luke decided to risk it all by shouting, “Why don’t you tell us why you’re doing this, Wardell?”

  He knew breaking the code of silence would bring their attacker’s wrath down on him, but it was the price he was willing to pay in order to keep Wardell’s focus off Ingrid and Lily and to keep him talking to mask whatever sounds would be made by the phone.

  “Weren’t you paying attention, Malloy?” Lon got to his feet and looked over at Luke. Seeing the tourniquet he’d fashioned, he threw back his head and laughed. “Well now. You really are a Boy Scout, aren’t you? A pity I’m not one of those do-gooders.” He took aim with his pistol. “Let’s see what the Boy Scout can do with this.” With a swagger, he walked closer and shot point-blank into Luke’s leg, sending up a fountain of blood.

  Across the room, Ingrid let out a scream and struggled frantically against her restraints.

  Wardell turned away and ambled back to the bale of straw as though he’d done nothing more than take a stroll.

  Through a haze of blinding pain, Luke fought to remain conscious as he tore away the rest of his shirt and struggled to wrap the gaping wound.

  “Now, where was I?” Lon downed another slug of whiskey before twirling the pistol like a professional gunslinger.

  It was clear that he was enjoying his newly discovered sense of power. “All those good citizens who refer to me as some stupid down-and-out drunk ought to see the three of you. I guess we know who holds all the cards now.

  “Oh yes. The reason I’m here.” A slow, dangerous smile curved his mouth as he turned his attention to Ingrid. “You’re going to sign over your rights to the cattle on this ranch. And if you do it nice and clean, I’ll do the same to you. Give me any trouble, I’ll shoot the brat just like I shot your lover boy. And I intend to shoot him a lot more times before I put him out of his misery. But if you’re a good girl, I’ll kill the two of you with the first shot, sparing you a whole lot of pain and misery.”