The Shepherd's Heart Series: A Boxed Set Book Bundle Collection Volumes 1-4

by Lynnette Bonner

  Rocky and Sheriff Watts rode into view.

  “I found it!” Jason called. “She’s got to be near here somewhere!” Dear God, please let her be all right.

  Rocky stepped up beside him. Sheriff Watts kept all the others back until Rocky determined if there were any tracks.

  Jason’s hands were trembling like they had when he used to drink, so he shoved them deep into his pockets and studied Rocky intently.

  Rocky scanned the ground.

  Jason forced himself to study the area. There was not much here in the way of hiding places. Just juniper-covered hills, with tumbleweed-filled valleys. He looked at the pine tree. Peered up into its branches. Nothing.

  A thought occurred, and he swallowed hard. “What if he buried her?” He kicked a stone violently. “Why didn’t I keep a better eye on her?”

  Rocky laid a hand on his shoulder. “He wouldn’t have had time to bury her. Besides, I don’t see any evidence of that, do you?”

  Jason rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “I don’t see her around here either. Just Russian thistle.” He gestured to the mangled pile of tumbleweeds in a heap at the base of the cliff. “And sagebrush.” He stretched a hand toward the hills.

  “We’ll find her, Jason.”

  “I just hope it’s not too late when we do.”

  “Then stop hoping and get to praying.” Rocky squeezed his shoulder. “That’s what Gram would tell you.”

  Jason’s countenance softened. “Been doing that, too.”

  Sheriff Watts approached. “Find anything?”

  Rocky shook his head and stepped away from Jason, folding his arms across his chest. “Winds have been gusting a little. When that happens a brushed trail disappears pretty fast.”

  As if to prove the truth of his statement, a tumbleweed rolled by, followed by a stiff wind. The pile of tumbleweeds at the base of the cliff shifted. One fell away from the tangle and rolled down the game trail.

  Something tugged at Jason’s consciousness for attention and he paused, having learned long ago, that when tracking a criminal, the smallest details can be what give them away. He turned to study the pile of tumbleweeds heaped against the base of the cliff.

  They just didn’t look right, somehow, the way they were all stacked on top of each other.

  His heart began to hammer like a blacksmith.

  He took two swift strides and began tossing them aside like a man gone mad, ignoring the sharp barbed thorns that sank into his fingers.

  The mouth of a small low cave appeared and elation bubbled up, but he didn’t let himself react. This could be nothing. Simply some tumbleweeds that had piled up of their own volition against the cliff.

  Then he saw the marks just inside the opening of the cave and his hope disappeared. He sank to his knees. “I think I found her.” The words were a choked rasp. He bent down and peered deep into the cavern as Rocky, Cade, and Watts stepped up behind him.

  Dear Jesus.

  He cleared his throat. “The floor angles down steeply. I can’t see her.

  We’re going to need some rope and a torch.”

  Nicki heard a faint sound above her. Far away and muted. She lifted her head so that both ears were free to listen. The rush of sound all around her made it hard to distinguish any other sounds, but she thought she could hear men’s voices.

  “I’m here,” she tried to yell. But her mouth was so dry only a rasp came out. She closed her mouth and swallowed, moistening her throat. “I’m here!” Louder this time, but loud enough?

  A thought occurred. What if it was William coming back to finish the job?A low moan escaped and she pressed her face into the ground beneath her. Her whole body trembled, and she forced herself to whisper the psalm. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.”

  “Nicki? Nicki…Nicki...Nicki...”

  Someone called and she lifted her head. Her name echoed around the chamber, bouncing down to her from several directions. She could not distinguish the voice other than it was male.

  Rocks trickled past her, bouncing and pinging as they cascaded toward her. She closed her eyes, and pressed her cheek to the ground, willing down her pounding heart. She could do nothing but trust in Jesus now. If Jesus wanted her on this earth, He would save her. If not, then she knew that it was for the best. Sawyer was in His hands now.

  “Nicki?”

  The voice was louder now, and it sounded like Jason.

  Joy trilled through her heart. He had come for her! A faint orange glow dusted the air above her head. “I’m here!” she called.

  “Oh, thank You, Jesus!”

  More rocks cascaded past her head, and now she could see the flame glowing at the end of a torch. Shadows shifted on the walls, eerily swaying this way and that.

  “She’s down here! Let down more rope!”

  She sighed in relief. Soon she would be free of these bonds, and they could fix her arm. More scrabbling and she could feel the vibrations of his movement in the floor under her cheek now.

  Jason sucked in a sharp breath. “Nicki, I’m coming! Don’t move!” A strange note tinged the edge of his voice, one she’d never heard him use before.

  He was right there, his boots right above her head as he lay sprawled out on the cave floor, a halo of light emanating from the torch in one hand, his other firmly clasping a rope. His face was in shadow.

  Oh, how she longed to see his face. To trace the stubble along his jaw. To lose herself in the depths of his blue, blue eyes. To feel his lips pressed to hers with life coursing between them. “Jason.” She tried to scoot up closer to him but cried out when her shoulder protested, and she slid a little further down into the cavern.

  “Nicki!” Terror laced Jason’s voice. “Honey, don’t move. You can’t move!” A metallic prickle of fear started in the back of her throat and danced toward the tip of her tongue. She lifted her head and licked her lips, glancing back.

  Behind her the floor of the cave gave way to a gaping, black canyon. She was only inches from the edge!

  Terror sizzled through her and she pressed her face back to the ground, wishing she hadn’t just seen that.

  Jason called up to where the others held the rope. “More rope!”

  “That’s all we got,” came back the faint call.

  Jason huffed a breath of impatience and turned back to evaluate his options. Okay Lord, what now?

  He studied the scene below him in the flickering light of his torch. Somewhere far below he could hear the rush of an underground river. Above him, sharp spears of pointed rock hung from the ceiling. Some had grown so far down as to meet the ground and formed a pillar of sorts.

  Fear thrummed through his chest as he noted just how close she was to the edge. One more slip on the shale and she would go over for sure. Nicki was mere inches from falling to her death.

  He moved his torch so he could study how best to pull her up. Her hands and feet were bound and then tied to each other behind her so that her legs, bent at the knees, could not be straightened. One shoulder was oddly misshapen, and his stomach curled. “Nicki, it’s really important that you don’t move, Honey. Don’t even nod or lift your head, just answer quietly. Your shoulder’s hurt, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she answered softly.

  Assessing the situation, he only had one option. He propped the torch against a rock to one side of the cavern and worked his way far enough up the rope so that he could form a slip knot. Kicking off one boot, he slid his foot into the loop and cinched it tight around his ankle. The last thing he needed was his boot slipping off just as he was about to pull her to safety. Flipping over on his stomach he crawled down the incline toward Nicki once again.

  A tremor buzzed through his body. He just wanted to have her in the comfort of his arms, safe.

  He felt the rope go taut and stretched his body full length, reaching down as far as his arms could go. His fingers graz
ed the top of her head. The rope cut into his ankle.

  Frustration zinged through him. “It’s okay, Nicki. I’m going to get you out of here. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  He stretched again and bumped the torch. It toppled and bounced toward Nicki’s face.

  Instinctively Nicki jerked away from the flame. She started to slide.

  “No!” Jason lunged for her.

  William stared down at the newspaper lying on his table at home. One of his hands must have bought it in town and left it here for him to read. Arms stiff, he leaned heavily on clenched fists planted on either side of the article. Tom’s wife was dead. He felt a curious mix of dread and jubilation at the news.

  Jubilation, because Tom would be suffering now, and it was about time the man felt some torment.

  Dread, because he now had other problems to tie up. The Association had to have been behind this. And if they were going after Tom…

  He slammed a fist into the table. Just when he thought he had things back under control! Would they be coming for him next? Or would Tom himself come for him?

  At that instant the window next to him shattered. The first bullet hit the wall beside his head with a strange thwap.

  He turned and looked at the hole. For one moment his heart stopped, and then he was somersaulting across the tiles toward the entry, away from the windows.

  A second bullet splintered the logs just behind him and above his head.

  He grabbed his rifle resting in the corner and pushed his back to the log wall beside the door. He pressed his head against the swell of a log, and clutched the rifle, chest heaving, mouth dry.

  So it had come to this. He had failed, and now his payment for failure loomed on the horizon.

  “I know you’re in there, William!”

  It was Roland. William cursed the fact that all his hands were branding in the south pasture today. Even Hank, his cook, had gone since it was a sun-up to sun-down process.

  So he was here alone. Trying to think his way back to life.

  The scent of smoke spiked his heart rate. “No, no, no, no. Come on! Think!” He drummed his fingers on the barrel of the rifle. Tom and probably an accomplice or two would be waiting for him if he tried to go out the door or one of the windows. Burn to death in the house? Or get shot trying to escape the flames?

  “I’m not gonna shoot ya! Come on out.” Roland called. “Just take this as a warning, so to speak. You got work to do!”

  William ground his teeth. He wasn’t an idiot.

  Tom was silent for a few moments, then, “You ever wonder what that little girl felt just before she left this earth? You don’t have to find out. Just come on out. I want to talk to you.”

  William cursed under his breath. Where was his voice coming from? The crackle and hiss of hungry flames obscured the direction of the voice. Smoke stabbed his nostrils. His eyes started to smart and water. He glanced to his left and crawled toward the window, rifle clutched in one hand. There was a steep, shale hill on the east side of the house, making it the least likely place for Roland to be waiting.

  Smoke curled down the walls, slithering toward him in a death march. He stripped off his shirt and tied it around his mouth and nose, then eased up under the window, still clutching his Winchester. He pushed up against the wall and peered out the window. Tears streamed from his eyes, making it hard to see, but it didn’t appear that anyone was stationed on this side of the house. He lifted his head higher. Smoke filtered across the yard in thick clouds. Someone could be hidden by it, but he would just have to take his chances. If he couldn’t see them, they would have a hard time seeing him, too.

  Behind him he heard a window burst. Several more windows shattered in succession. The heat must be causing that. Pure providence.

  “Here goes,” he muttered. Clutching the rifle by the barrel, he shoved the butt through the window. He could only hope the sound of this window breaking would be mistaken for the same. Quickly, he reamed out the glass and dropped his rifle onto the ground. In one swift leap he was out the window and sliding down the steep hill, cursing the shale and juniper prickles that immediately sought out any bare inch of his flesh.

  He slid several feet, scrabbling for purchase to no avail. Finally, to stop his descent, he plastered himself flat against the hill, spreading his weight as much as possible and grabbing for anything that rose by, gritting his teeth against the rocks grinding into his bare chest. Dust rose in a cloud around him and caked the inside of his mouth. At last, he came to a stop clutching a hand-full of bunch-grass.

  Hands, knees, and chest sliced and bleeding, he pressed his cheek to the dirt gasping. He took in a lungful of dust. Racking coughs threatened to start his slide again and he curled onto his side, digging in one foot and not daring to let go of the clump of grass. He’d lost his shirt somewhere above. But he was alive.

  For now.

  He was remarkably cold, for just having escaped a fire. A shiver coursed through him as wind gusted across the landscape. He could still see a patch of snow here and there clinging to the shady side of a juniper bush. He looked for his flannel shirt, spied it up and to his right, and belly-crawled toward it. Warmth would help him think. He wasn’t out of danger yet. Unless Roland assumed he hadn’t escaped the fire and had left already, which wasn’t likely.

  Shirt in place and clutching a juniper bush, he rolled so that he could look up the hill. Smoke billowed in great gusts above his head. Bright orange sparks and ash floated down through the air. He groaned. His place was gone!

  Jaw clenched, his free hand fisted around a handful of dirt and he growled under his breath. Roland will pay for this.

  Determined, he started the climb, one clump of bunch-grass at a time. Handhold after handhold, his anger growing with every inch he moved.

  He came on his rifle several feet above and slung it across his back as he continued up the hill skirting wide to the right. If Tom was still up there, he intended to catch him by surprise.

  He heard the muttered curses and the sound of pacing before he crested the ledge and was thankful for Roland’s incautious stupidity.

  Keeping below the crest of the hill, he moved a ways off, scrambled into the yard, and ducked behind the watering trough next to the barn. Carefully he scanned the surrounding hills and plains. Smoke drifted in a lazy haze across the scrub brush, but he didn’t see anyone else with Tom.

  His house was a heap of burnt logs and ashes. Tom was treading the perimeter, one hand held to his eyes warding off smoke as he peered into the charred rubble and muttered to himself. Apparently looking for my body.

  William cocked his rifle, the sound loud in the stillness.

  Roland froze, his back still to William, then lifted his hands to shoulder height.

  William grinned. “Lookin’ for something? Or, should I say, someone?”

  Tom didn’t move. “I told you I wasn’t gonna shoot ya. Think of this as a little lesson learned, that’s all.”

  “If you think I’m fool enough to believe that, you don’t know me too well. I heard you used to be a gunfighter before you became a banker.”

  Tom nodded, hands still raised.

  “So what happened? I saw the article in the paper.”

  Tom sighed. “The Association was not happy with the job we did. They sent a man to kill me.” He sniffed. “They weren’t happy with the job he did either.”

  “So, what now? We just part like old friends?”

  Tom shook his head. “I want you to help me go after them. We can—” He started to spin around, his hands dropping.

  William pulled the trigger. The blast was deafening in the afternoon stillness.

  Tom blinked, took a step forward, and looked down at the hole in his side as blood spilled onto the ground. Then he collapsed.

  William ground his teeth. If The Association had sent someone after Roland, he would probably be next. He was finished here. He would have to move onto some other part of the country. His eyes narrowed. Al
l because of a stupid woman and a nice piece of land!

  20

  Jason’s heart nearly stopped as the torch bounced past Nicki and flipped flame over handle into the maw of the canyon.

  Nicki whimpered and pressed her body hard against the floor, but to no avail. She was slipping away from him.

  He grabbed for her but caught nothing except a thick strand of her hair. He seized it like a lifeline and her slide slowed to a stop. Thankfulness coursed through him. They were in total darkness now, but she had slipped far enough that he knew her knees had to be jutting over the lip of the canyon.

  With grim determination, he wrapped the strand of hair around his hand and pulled hard. Nicki cried out, but he kept tugging until he felt her move toward him. Feeling around on the ground he found more of her hair and grasped another handful. He heaved her toward him again and only stopped when he surmised he’d pulled her several inches closer to him.

  Pausing, he let her catch her breath. When he spoke, he deliberately kept his voice soft. “I need you to try and scoot your way up toward me a little.”

  “I can move now?” The words were no more than a whisper.

  “Yes, I’ve got you, and I’m not going to let you slide further down.”

  “What if the men let go of the rope?”

  “The rope is tied to a tree outside the mouth of the cave. Everything is going to be fine.” Lord, let it be so.

  She lay still for a moment, as though judging whether she could trust him or not. Then she asked, “Is William out there?”

  The fear he heard in the question pierced his heart. “No, honey. William is not up there. Just Sheriff Watts, Rocky, Cade, and the ranch hands.”

  “Okay.” With that she lifted her head and pushed off with her knees.

  The shale tumbled over beneath her, cascading away behind her into the canyon and crashing into the torrent below. But with him pulling on her hair, she actually moved a few inches closer.