Cowboy to the Max
Page 13
Carter’s eyes darkened to slits. “Your friend turned me in?”
Sadie shook her head and reached for his arm. “No, he’s covering for us. Do you think you can stand?”
He pushed off the bed with his hand, but staggered slightly. Sadie slipped an arm beneath his to support him. “You’re weak and need more rest,” she said. “Hopefully the police will come and go.”
“Just give me the keys to the car and I’ll get out of here so you’ll be safe,” Carter said between gritted teeth.
“You can’t drive now, Carter. You’d never make it.”
His legs buckled, and she helped him into the chair. “Sit here and let me make up the bed,” she told him.
He glared at her, but did as she said, a testament to how weak he was. She hastily turned up the covers, then grabbed the bandages and medical supplies from the table and tucked them back inside the bathroom. If the police saw them, they might suspect Jimmy had treated Carter and arrest him.
She didn’t want her friend to get in trouble.
Carter was gripping his bandaged belly, but he didn’t complain. Instead, he accepted her help and shuffled his feet toward the back door as she led him outside. They paused for a second on the back stoop, and she heard the car engine slowing and rolling to a stop at the front of the house. Then a car door slammed shut and a man’s deep voice punctuated the silence. “Jimmy?”
“Hey, Jonas. What brings you out here?” Jimmy asked.
Sadie gestured toward the right near a cluster of trees, and led Carter to the cellar door. She yanked it open and they crawled inside, then climbed down the steps into the darkness.
PAIN AND FATIGUE clawed at Carter, but at least his head felt more lucid, and he thought he was going to live. He didn’t know how many days they’d been on the reservation, but it was time to leave.
Sadie pressed her hand to his forehead to check for a fever. “How are you feeling?” she whispered.
“Better.” He gripped her arms. “Thanks for saving my life.”
“No problem,” she said softly.
Carter felt her body up against his, and a slow tingle of arousal pulsed through him. Yeah, he was alive.
But making love to Sadie was not an option. Not in a cellar with the cops on their tail. And not with his gut bandaged and him so weak a wave of dizziness washed over him.
Sadie must have sensed his condition because she urged him to sit down on the cold ground. He did, then leaned against the wall. The sound of his labored breathing echoed in the tense silence, and he watched helplessly as Sadie climbed the steps and listened for sounds above.
Somewhere Carter heard an owl hooting in the distance, then a dog barking. Finally the sound of an engine rumbling to life.
“He’s leaving,” Sadie said.
“Good. Then it’s time I go, too.” Using every bit of energy he could muster, he slowly pushed himself up, fighting the damn dizziness and hoping he didn’t pass out again. He was a cowboy, not a weakling.
The noise above made him throw himself back against the wall into the shadows, and Sadie froze, her hand gripping the cellar door.
“It’s me, Sadie,” Jimmy called. “Jonas has gone.”
Carter exhaled in relief, and Sadie released her grip on the door while her friend opened it, allowing a faint stream of moonlight to seep in.
“Come on, Carter.”
He staggered to the stairway but insisted she exit first. When she’d made it through the clearing, she took his arm and helped him out. He was wheezing heavily, sweating like a racehorse and his mouth was so damn dry he felt like he’d been eating dust for days.
But he stifled a complaint as he faced Jimmy. The man obviously hated him. Had he tipped off the cops?
“What did Jonas say?” Sadie asked.
“The police paid him a visit asking about you, Sadie, if you were here.”
Sadie cut her gaze toward the front of the house as if she, too, wondered if Jimmy had betrayed them. “What did you tell them?”
Jimmy stiffened. “That I hadn’t heard from you. But that I’d let him know if you showed up.”
A tense moment lingered between them, Jimmy’s look possessive. Then Sadie squeezed his arm. “Thank you, Jimmy. I’m sorry for putting you in that position.”
His eyes softened at her apology, confirming he was in love with Sadie.
“Thank you, Blackhorse.” He cleared his throat. “If you’ll hand me the keys, I’ll get out of your way now.”
Jimmy’s gaze locked with his, a silent understanding passing between them. He had read Carter’s double meaning, and he would take care of Sadie.
Sadie swung a startled look toward Carter. “We’re leaving together, Carter.”
Carter shook his head. “No. It’s my battle, Sadie, not yours. Stay here where you’ll be safe.”
Sadie frowned. “No, Carter, I’m—”
“You’ve done all you can,” Carter said, cutting her off. “I appreciate your help. But I don’t need you now. I have to finish this on my own.” He gestured toward Jimmy. “Stay here with your friend. He’ll take care of you better than I can on the run.”
Sadie’s eyes flashed with anger. “That’s not the point, Carter.”
“Just give me the damn keys.” He held out his hand. “And call the police after I’m gone and tell them I forced you to go with me. That I held you at gunpoint. Hell, you can even tell them about Lester. At least then they’ll stop looking for you.”
Jimmy shoved his keys in Carter’s hand. “Take my old truck in the barn. They won’t be looking for it.”
Carter’s stony gaze locked with Jimmy’s, the tension palpable. But the men understood each other plain and clear.
They were both in love with Sadie, and would do whatever it took to keep her alive.
He glanced back at Sadie, fighting his baser instincts.
The urge to kiss her and tell her how he felt taunted him, but that would only complicate things more. Better she think he was done with her than to drag her along and get her killed.
So he headed toward the barn where Jimmy’s truck was parked, forcing his mind back to Lester’s comment about his father. If there was any truth in Lester’s dying words, Carter would find out what it was.
SADIE WATCHED CARTER sway as he walked toward the barn, a mixture of emotions assaulting her. She should be relieved to be safe on the reservation and not on the run, but she couldn’t let Carter go off on his own. The man was too weak to drive, could barely stand upright, much less fend off an attacker.
She turned to Jimmy. “Thanks again, but I have to go.”
Sadness tinged his eyes, but he looked resigned. “Be careful, Sadie. I’ll be here if you need me.”
Sadie reached up and hugged him. He was such a good, honorable man, an advocate for their people, and had helped her after her own attack and through her mother’s death. He deserved someone who really loved him.
But another man had stolen her heart. That stubborn cowboy who was about to leave her behind.
“Hang on and I’ll go get your stuff,” Jimmy said, then he raced back to the house.
Sadie caught Carter just as he entered the barn and reached for the door handle to the driver’s side.
He whipped his head up, a bleakness in his eyes. “Sadie, go back—”
“No.” She gripped his arm firmly. “You’re too weak to drive. Now get in.”
He shook his head but his eyes looked glassy. “No, stay—”
“Shut up and get in the car.” Sadie tugged him around to the passenger side and gently shoved him in the seat. Then she hurried back to the driver’s side, jumped in and took the keys from his trembling hand. Carter looked pale and shaky, so she stroked his forehead, checking for a fever.
“I’m fine,” he grumbled, although his voice was hoarse.
A moment later, Jimmy pecked on the door, and she glanced up to see him holding the bags of clothing she’d purchased along with another bag, so she opened the door.
�
��I packed some extra gauze and ointment to dress his wounds and threw in some water and food.”
“Thanks.” Sadie stowed the bags behind her seat, removed a bottle of water and forced Carter to take a few sips, then waved to Jimmy and pulled from the barn.
“Why are you doing this?” Carter asked in a low voice.
Because I care about you. But Sadie swallowed back the confession teetering on the tip of her tongue and pressed the accelerator.
“I told you I want to know the truth,” Sadie said. “Now where are we going?”
Carter pressed a hand to his bandaged stomach. “To my father’s ranch first to pick up his computer and file box. Maybe there’s some information there that will tell us who hired Lester.”
“Then what? It’s too dangerous to stay there.”
“Then we’ll go to the BBL. My friends will help us.”
Sadie checked the horizon for the tribal police as she drove down the road leading away from Jimmy’s and off the reservation.
Carter said his father had been mean, abusive. Was he so vile that he’d help frame his own son for murder?
And if so, why would he want his son to go to prison?
Chapter Thirteen
Darkness washed the deserted land with shadows, an occasional vehicle’s lights flashing across the asphalt. Carter fought to stay awake as Sadie drove back to his father’s ranch. She needed him to keep an eye out for the cops.
But fatigue and pain eventually wore him down, and he collapsed into a restless sleep.
Hours later, the truck jolted to a halt, and he jerked awake, then glanced around, his stomach churning as he realized they had made it back.
Sadie looked worn out, strands of her braid escaping the clasp, her shoulders sagging. “You look exhausted, Carter. Maybe we should stay here.”
“No, you were right, it’s too dangerous.” He reached for the door handle. “I’ll be right back.”
Sadie jumped out of the truck and went around to help him. He leaned on her as they hurried into his father’s office. A quick look around, and Carter grabbed the laptop, then the file box on the floor behind the desk.
A minute later, they were back in the truck heading to the BBL. Carter punched in Johnny’s number to tell him they were coming.
“You can stay in the cabin next to Kim’s,” Johnny told him. “I’ll come by tomorrow and we’ll make a plan.”
“Thanks, Johnny. I won’t forget this.” Carter ended the call, but fell asleep again as Sadie turned onto the highway.
The next time he roused, they were driving onto the BBL. Most of the ranch was dark, but they bypassed a campsite where a group of boys were huddled around a fire roasting marshmallows. Carter’s chest tightened.
He admired the men who’d started the BBL. If he’d had a ranch like this to go to when he was a kid, he might not have landed himself in such trouble.
He gave Sadie directions to the cabin, and when they parked, she turned to him.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
Carter caught her hand. “You need some rest, too, Sadie. You’ve been taking care of me day and night, and now you’ve driven for hours.”
Sadie nodded. “We both need sleep, then we’ll look at those files in the morning.”
She opened the truck door, grabbed her purse and the water bottles and medical supplies her friend had packed for them, then walked around to the passenger side. Carter shoved open the door and tried to make it on his own, but his legs were weak, and blood had started oozing from his bandage.
Sadie frowned, then slid her arm around his waist and helped him inside. He collapsed into a kitchen chair, uncapped a water bottle and drank greedily while she stowed the groceries.
“Are you hungry?”
He shook his head. “No, but you must be.”
“I’m fine. I ate a sandwich while you were sleeping.”
She gestured toward his bandage, and he leaned back in the chair and sucked air through his teeth as she unwrapped the gauze, and cleaned and redressed the wound. Her fingers felt like magic, and his body hardened at her touch.
A good sign he wasn’t dead and was healing.
“Let’s go to bed,” he said in a gruff voice.
Sadie’s gaze met his, emotions brimming in her eyes. Then she stood, took his hand and helped him to the bedroom.
“Carter,” she said hesitantly.
He cupped her face between his hands. “We’re just going to sleep, Sadie. I promise.” Dammit, he was too weak to do more. “I just want to hold you tonight.”
A soft smile curved her tired face. “I’d like that, too.”
Still shirtless, he sat down on the bed to remove his jeans. She helped him, his sex hardening again as she yanked off his boots then slid his jeans over his legs. Then she stepped into the bathroom, and returned a few moments later wearing one of the T-shirts she’d bought for him.
A dull ache pressed against Carter’s chest. Dammit, he wanted her so badly he could taste it. But they were both exhausted.
Still, she was here. She had come with him when she could have stayed at the reservation with her friend Jimmy.
Maybe she was starting to care about him, too.
He stretched out, grimacing as his stitches pulled, then watched as she flipped off the light. A sliver of moonlight slanting through the window washed over her, making her look like an angel silhouetted by the light. She removed the clasp holding back her braid, then began to unwind the strands.
“Let me,” he said hoarsely.
Sadie stared at him for a long moment, then walked over to the bed and sat down with her back to him. Tenderness for her mounted inside him as he lifted his fingers and threaded them through the silky strands of her hair. He gently unwove the braid, his pulse hammering as the beautiful, black strands fell across her bare shoulders.
He wanted the T-shirt off of her. Imagined what she’d look like naked with that hair spilling across his belly.
But he’d made her a promise and winning her trust meant more to him at this point than having sex with her. Although, even for an injured man, he wanted that desperately.
When he’d finished, he took her by the shoulders and gently urged her to join him in bed. Sadie slid her feet beneath the covers, then turned to him, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said gently.
She licked her lips, and he pulled her in his arms. She lay her head on his shoulder, one arm draped across his chest, and he wrapped her in his embrace, savoring the way her slender body fit against him.
He wanted to make love to her, but dammit, he was too weak to do anything but hold her. And he sensed that tonight, that was all she needed.
SADIE CURLED INTO Carter’s strong embrace, anxiety needling her. They had to find the truth soon before the police caught up with them. She hadn’t saved Carter’s life after that bullet to lose him to jail or for him to be gunned down in an arrest.
But with Lester dead, where would they turn for answers? He still hadn’t told them his motive.
Only that it was connected to Carter’s father.
None of it made sense.
Carter brushed her hair from her forehead and kissed her cheek, and Sadie stroked his chest in small circles, enjoying the intimacy.
“You need rest,” she whispered.
Carter nodded against her. “So do you.”
Carter lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers, feather-light kisses that aroused her with their tenderness. She twined her fingers with his, then kissed his palm, and he moaned and rolled sideways to tuck her against him.
She curled into his arms and closed her eyes. Seconds later, Carter’s labored breathing echoed in the air. Knowing he still needed to heal, she savored the sound of his heartbeat against her ear. And while she lay entwined in his embrace, she imagined the two of them lying in bed together every evening, making love, holding each other, whispering promises long into the night. Then waking
to sunlight streaking the room as they made love again in the morning.
Instead of the grueling reality they faced at daylight.
CARTER DREAMED HE WAS RUNNING from the police and they were shooting at him and Sadie. Then another man leaped out of the woods and shot Sadie.
The man was his father.
He wasn’t dead after all. He had faked his disease, gone into hiding and helped frame Carter, and now he was determined to kill him before he exposed his father’s duplicity.
He jerked awake, trembling and sweating and quickly turned to Sadie, terrified she was gone. But she lay curled on her side, her long dark hair spread across the pillow, a sliver of daylight streaking her skin as she slept.
He gently brushed his knuckles across her cheek, treasuring the moment. Thank God she was still alive and beside him.
He wanted her beside him all the time.
But what did he have to offer her?
Nothing.
His chest heaved with relief that she was safe, but he tensed again as remnants of his nightmare bombarded him. Could his father possibly still be alive?
Carter had only been told he’d died, first by an inmate, then by one of the low-life guards. Then he’d seen the obituary in the paper. But any of those things could have been faked or manipulated.
Carter assumed his body had been buried in the old cemetery nearby, but he didn’t know for sure. After all, he was a convicted murderer and he hadn’t exactly bought a burial plot. He might even be buried somewhere on the ranch.
And no one had mentioned an autopsy.
For all he knew, his old man could have faked his death and come back to haunt him.
Tension thrummed through him as he searched the shadowed corners of the bedroom. He could be hovering in the dark watching him, waiting to strike like a rattlesnake ready to spew venom.
Just as Carter had learned to do in prison, he tempered his breathing, listening for sounds of an intruder in the room and throughout the house. The wind seeped through the eaves of the faded walls, whistling like an old man. The hum of the ceiling fan twirled above, rattling in the silence.