Warrior's Resolve (Iron Horse Legacy Book 5)

by Elle James

  “How rude,” Parker said, laughter in his voice.

  Molly liked it when he smiled. A little too much. “We should get back to the house and clean up before we go to town with Mom.”

  “Agreed.” He took the bucket of eggs from her.

  “I can carry that myself,” she protested.

  “I know you can. There’s a difference between recognizing what a woman is capable of and treating her like a lady, anyway. I figure you can ride and rope better than I ever dreamed of, but you’re still a woman, and my mother taught me how to treat a lady.”

  Molly’s brow dipped further. “Why now?”

  “You’re the boss’s daughter,” he said.

  “Don’t give me that shit. I’ve always been the boss’s daughter.”

  His jaw firmed. “You’ve never been attacked like you were last night. I don’t ever want that to happen to you again. Not on my watch.”

  Her heart beat faster. “Because I’m the boss’s daughter?”

  He stopped, placed the bucket of eggs on the porch and pulled her into his arms. “Not because you’re the boss’s daughter.” He tipped up her chin with one hand. “Because I made the mistake of kissing you.”

  Her eyes widened, and her pulse beat so fast and hard it thundered in her ears. “Mistake?”

  “Yes, damn it. Mistake. Like the one I’m about to make again.” Then he bent to claim her lips in a hard kiss that took her breath away. When she opened her mouth to him, he dove in, taking everything he could in that one kiss.

  Molly’s hands started on his chest and moved upward to wrap around his neck and bring him even closer.

  They both smelled of horses and manure, and she probably had straw in her hair, but he was kissing her like there was no tomorrow.

  And she was letting him.

  No.

  She was kissing him back like her life depended on it.

  The back door opened and a startled, “Oh!” sounded before the door slammed shut again.

  Molly backed away, her fingers covering her throbbing lips. “That was probably my mother.”

  “Probably.”

  “What am I going to say to her?” Molly asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Molly nodded. “Right. What just happened meant nothing.”

  Parker frowned. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to.” She backed away, giving him a weak, forced smile. “Come on. My mother should be ready to go to town.”

  He caught her arm. “Molly—”

  “It’s okay. You’re not going to break my heart or anything. It was just a kiss.” She shook free of his grip and entered the house.

  Her mother stood in the kitchen filling the napkin holder in the middle of the table. “Oh, there you are. Are you two ready to follow me to town?”

  “Yes, Mom. We’re ready.” She wanted to say more, but the lump in her throat was only getting thicker by the minute. If she didn’t move soon, she might do something stupid, like cry. McKinnons did not cry. Male or female.

  “Are you okay?” her mother asked, her brows forming a worried V over her nose.

  “I’m fine. We should go.” Molly turned her back to her mother. The woman had a sixth sense about her children. She always knew when they were unhappy or hurt.

  Her mother touched her shoulder. “If you need someone to talk to later, I’m here for you.”

  Without turning, she covered her mother’s hand. “Thanks, Mom. But I’m really okay.”

  “Uh huh.” Her mother’s fingers squeezed gently, and then released. “Am I driving?”

  “No. I’ll drive you in your truck. Parker will follow us to town.”

  “Good.” Her mother looped her purse over her arm, snagged her keys from a hook on the wall and headed for the door. “That will give us time to talk.”

  Molly swallowed a groan. The last thing she wanted was for her mother to grill her about the kiss she’d witnessed that meant nothing.

  Chapter 5

  Parker hadn’t liked the way that kiss had ended. After five years of ignoring Molly McKinnon, she had no reason to believe the kiss was anything more than what he’d claimed it was…a mistake.

  When in actuality, it was so much more. The kiss seemed to be the culmination of the past five years of longing and denial.

  He was supposed to protect her, not maul her. What would her father say to his foreman taking advantage of his absence to make a move on his daughter?

  Nothing had seemed to matter at that moment when his lips had touched hers. He’d been where he’d longed to be from the first day he’d seen her riding in from the range, her hair having fallen out of the perpetual ponytail he’d come to know as her norm.

  She’d swung out of the saddle, removed her hat and stared him straight in the eye. “You’re the new foreman?”

  When he’d held out his hand, she’d ignored it, leading Rusty into the barn. “Stay out of my way. I have real work to do.”

  She’d walked past him, her smooth gait like that of a prized dressage horse. Her shoulders had been squared, and her slim body had been encased in faded blue jeans and a worn, red flannel shirt that had done nothing to disguise her luscious curves. Everything about that first meeting seared a permanent image in his brain.

  He’d known from that day she would be trouble for him. For five years, he’d fought his desire and his attraction, knowing she wanted nothing to do with him and he’d be fired if her father knew the extent of the foreman’s attraction to his daughter.

  Now that he’d crossed the line, there was no going back. He wanted Molly more than he wanted to keep his job. Obviously. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have kissed her. Not once, but three times, each time reminding him why he wanted to do it again.

  Molly drove the truck in front of him, her mother in the passenger seat. The drive into Eagle Rock wouldn’t take any more than twenty minutes on the curving roads through the Crazy Mountains.

  At the first major curve going into town, Parker lost sight of the truck. For a moment his heart stood still, and he held his breath. As he rounded the curve and the truck came back in sight, he let go of the breath he’d been holding. Who would be stupid enough to launch an attack in broad daylight?

  Like indoctrination training for a pararescue PJ, he forced himself to relax behind the wheel and focus on the mission. Keep the ladies safe on their way to town.

  Once he could breathe easier, he thought about the kiss Mrs. M had witnessed. Molly’s mother was bound to have a hundred questions for her daughter.

  Parker wondered how Molly would respond. Would she say she’d enjoyed the kiss? Or would she ask her mother to butt out of her business? Or would she be noncommittal and pretend the kiss meant nothing?

  His chest tightened.

  The kiss might have meant nothing to her, but it had meant more than Parker was willing to admit to himself.

  James McKinnon probably had bigger plans for the man he wanted to marry his only daughter. A gimpy, former Air Force PJ probably didn’t rank high enough for the taciturn Marine and big ranch owner. Marines had little respect for the Air Force. They chewed them up and spit them out.

  Never mind that the physical and mental requirements of making the pararescue team were challenging, and eighty percent of those who started the course washed out. He’d made the team, learning that the mental side of a mission was every bit as important as the physical side. Even more important. PJs were part of the elite Special Operations forces. Not everyone could be a PJ.

  But to a battle seasoned Marine…being a PJ might not be enough to impress Mr. McKinnon when it came to his daughter.

  Hell, what was he worried about? And why was he thinking he had to impress Mr. McKinnon? Molly was a McKinnon; he was the hired help. End of story.

  Ahead, Molly’s truck rounded another blind curve, moving out of Parker’s sight.

  Focus on the mission, he told himself and increased his speed to get around the corner faster so that he could once a
gain see the truck with the two women most vulnerable to attack by the men holding the senior Mr. McKinnon.

  He whipped around the curve only to find another curve snaking back in the other direction.

  Again, he increased his speed, skidding sideways around the next corner. Ahead, a little further than he liked, was the truck with the two women.

  Parker had just breathed a sigh when a large, dark SUV pulled out of a side road, dense with trees and overgrowth of brush.

  The SUV slammed into the passenger side of the pickup and pushed it toward the edge of the road and a steep drop off.

  “No!” Parker yelled and slammed his foot to the accelerator, racing toward the SUV.

  Parker braced himself and rammed his truck into the left rear panel of the SUV, causing the vehicle to spin in a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree circle.

  Without the SUV pushing it, the truck slowed to a stop, the front two wheels hanging over the side of the road, dangling over the drop off.

  The SUV came to a stop, facing Parker’s truck. Then the back wheels spun as the driver hit the accelerator hard. When the wheels gained traction, the SUV shot forward, heading straight for Parker.

  Parker shifted into reverse and backed away as fast as he could, drawing the attacking SUV away from the women in the truck, hoping to give them time to right their vehicle and get back on the road.

  Twisted around so that he could see behind him, Parker maneuvered his truck back around the curves in the road, at a distinct disadvantage. The SUV could move faster because it was going forward. Before too long, it would catch up to Parker and slam into him.

  As he rounded the curve, Parker spun the steering wheel, sending the truck into a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn, leaving him facing the opposite direction.

  When the SUV whipped around the curve, Parker was ready. He stood his ground, forcing the SUV to either have a head-on collision or dodge his vehicle to keep from slamming into him.

  Bracing for impact, Parker waited.

  At the last second, the driver of the SUV swerved around Parker’s truck and sped away.

  Though he would have liked to chase down the driver, Parker had to check on the women in the damaged truck. He raced forward, coming around the curve and praying he’d find the truck where he’d left it.

  The road was empty. The truck was gone.

  Parker skidded to a stop, leaped out of his truck and ran to the edge of the road where he’d last seen Molly and Mrs. McKinnon’s vehicle.

  The edge of the road dropped down a steep incline to a stand of trees fifty yards below.

  That’s where the truck had landed, smashed against the trunk of a tree.

  At that moment, Molly crawled out the driver’s window and dropped to the ground on all fours.

  Parker had his cellphone out praying for reception among the hills and rock formations. Nothing.

  “Mom’s hurt,” Molly called out from down below.

  Parker scrambled down the hill, slipping and sliding in loose gravel until he reached the wreckage.

  “You have to get help,” Molly said, with blood on her cheek. She stared into the truck where her mother was held in place by her seatbelt. The airbag had deployed in front of her, but she had a gash on her forehead, and she remained limp.

  Parker’s medical training kicked in. He hurried to the other side of the vehicle and pressed his fingers to the base of her throat where he found a pulse beating.

  “Is she…” Molly gulped.

  “Alive? Yes.”

  “We have to get her out!”

  “It’s better to leave her where she is as long as there isn’t a chance of fire. We don’t know what internal or spinal injuries she might have suffered.”

  “You have to go for help.”

  Parker frowned, torn between helping Mrs. M and staying with Molly. “I don’t want to leave you two.”

  “You have to,” Molly said. “We can’t stay here.”

  Parker knew that. He held out the gun he’d brought with him. “You know how to use this?”

  She nodded. “My father made sure I knew how to handle a gun.”

  “Then hang on to it and shoot anyone who even thinks about threatening you.” He stared into her eyes. “Do you understand?” Parker was afraid Molly was in more of a state of shock than she was letting on. But he had no choice. He had to get back up to the road and either flag someone down or continue to Eagle Rock and get the sheriff and the fire rescue team out there to retrieve Mrs. M. from where the truck had come to rest.

  He scrambled up the side of the embankment, slipping and sliding all the way up. By the time he reached the top, he was breathing hard. With no other vehicles in sight, he ran to his truck, slipped in and checked his cellphone. Still no reception.

  Without wasting another minute, he shifted into drive and jammed his foot to the accelerator, sending him flying toward town. All along the way, he kept checking his cellphone, praying for reception.

  A mile out of Eagle Rock, he finally got a signal. Slowing to a stop on the side of the road, he pressed 911.

  Dispatch answered. After Parker gave her the details and location, the woman said she’d send assistance and a mountain rescue team. Within minutes, Parker could hear the wail of sirens as the fire department and ambulance left their stations and headed toward him.

  Parker made a U-turn in the middle of the highway and raced back to the position where he’d left Molly and Mrs. M.

  He parked his truck on the side of the road and engaged his hazard lights. Then he scrambled back down the hillside, praying nothing had happened to Molly and her mother while he’d been away.

  As he slid to a halt beside the crashed truck, Molly came out of the shadows of the tree, holding the gun he’d given her. “Oh, thank God,” she cried and threw her arms around his neck.

  “How’s she doing?” he asked.

  “Same as when you left,” Molly said. “She’s still unconscious. I’m afraid, Parker. What if she has internal injuries? What if she has bleeding on the brain?” Molly shook her head. “My father’s missing… I can’t lose my mother, too.”

  The sirens indicated the arrival of the firetruck and the ambulance.

  Men scrambled down the steep hill, carrying a rescue litter and what looked like a toolbox filled with medical supplies.

  After trying the doors on both sides of the truck, one of the rescue team radioed back to the men up on the road that they would need the jaws of life to extract the crash victim.

  Parker stood out of the way, holding Molly in his arms, letting the rescue workers do their job.

  Molly wrapped an arm around his waist and leaned against him, her body trembling.

  “You need to let the medics check you out as well,” Parker said.

  “I’m fine,” she insisted.

  “You’re shaking like a leaf.”

  “Can I help it that it’s cold out here?” she said through chattering teeth.

  “Sweetheart, it’s not that cold. I’m betting that shock is setting in.” His arm tightened around her. “Come on. Let’s get you up to my truck. I have a blanket in the back seat.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t leave my mother.”

  “They’re bringing her out. We need to get out of the way and not create more work for them to manage.”

  Molly nodded. “Okay,” she said. “But I’m riding to the hospital with her.”

  “I’m sure they’ll let you. And I’ll follow you two.”

  While they waited what felt like a very long time for them to bring Mrs. M up the side of the hill, Parker held Molly wrapped in the blanket he kept in his truck.

  Soon, she stopped shaking.

  By the time Mrs. M was brought to the top, Molly was more in control of herself and able to climb into the back of the ambulance on her own.

  Parker followed the ambulance all the way to Bozeman, where Mrs. M was delivered to the emergency room.

  In the ER waiting room, Parker made the call to
Hank Patterson.

  “Brotherhood Protectors, Hank Patterson speaking.”

  “Hank, Parker Bailey, foreman at the Iron Horse Ranch. I’m not sure if the McKinnons have engaged your team yet, but we need help.”

  “Angus called me a little while ago, saying he could use some help keeping an eye on the ranch. I have a couple of guys I can assign today.”

  “We’ll need someone at the hospital in Bozeman to guard Mrs. McKinnon.”

  “Give me the sitrep,” Hank said, his voice tight.

  Parker detailed the attack on the road into Eagle Rock. “I don’t think she’s safe lying in a hospital without some protection.”

  “I’m sending Boomer, a Navy SEAL. He’ll be there as soon as I can get him on the road.”

  Parker ended the call and hit the number for Angus McKinnon.

  “Parker, what’s going on?” Angus asked. “I just got to the ranch, and my mother and Molly aren’t here. I take it they’re with you?”

  Parker went through the incident again with Angus. “Patterson is sending someone to guard your mother at the hospital. I don’t yet know the extent of her injuries, but they’re bound to keep her for observation, if nothing else. She was unconscious when they brought her in. Molly is a bit banged up, but she says she’s okay.”

  Angus swore. “Bree and I will be there as soon as we can. I’ll notify the others.”

  “We’ll be here.” Parker looked up as Molly came out of the restricted area, her face drawn and with the cut on her forehead covered with a butterfly bandage. Her hair had worked loose of her ponytail, and her eyes were red-rimmed, but she was still the most beautiful woman Parker had ever seen. Inside and out.

  Parker opened his arms, and she walked into them, laying her cheek on his chest.

  “How much more can my family take?” Molly whispered, glad to be held in Parker’s arms.

  “I don’t know,” Parker answered, stroking her hair and holding her. “I’m at a loss for what to do. You McKinnons have been through a lot over the past few weeks. It seems every member of the family has had some crisis to overcome, with the biggest being your missing father, the cornerstone of the Iron Horse Ranch.”