Twice A Target (Task Force Eagle)

by Susan Vaughan

  “I don’t know if you’ve made the situation worse. Interesting. More complicated. Asking you to stay was my idea.”

  Bobby made cooing noises as Maddy patted his back. Beyond the tack room, hooves stamped the floor as horses shifted in sleep. Smells of hay and horses flavored the air. Outside, a hunting owl hooted.

  Holt blinked away fatigue from his gritty eyes. He’d sat out here working over the problems while working on the tack. He had an answer, but it wouldn’t be what Maddy expected to hear. An off-the-wall suggestion worthy of her at her most inventive. A suggestion that shocked him, knotted his jaw—and filled a hollowness inside him he hadn’t known was there.

  He leaned forward. “If the judge thinks a family means two parents and the children, that’s what we have to give him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Marry me, Maddy.”

  She nearly dropped the baby. Bobby waved his arms and squealed with glee as he did when Holt blew zerberts on his belly. “It’s okay, Bobby.” She resumed patting his back, but with an erratic rhythm.

  She gaped as if she hadn’t heard right. Her eyes were wide as pansies. “Marry you? Now who’s being impulsive?”

  “How else could we prove your dependability? It’s the only answer. We have to get married right away.” He’d thought the words would choke in his throat, but they flowed out as natural as a mountain spring.

  She pressed one palm to her forehead as if to calm a whirlwind inside. “The idea’s preposterous, crazy. How could you even suggest such a thing? Maybe it’s best if I leave. I could pack up and be out of here tomorrow. I could use my credit card to rent a car.”

  He shook his head. “If you leave now, it looks bad for us both. You prove your flightiness, and I look weak for choosing such an unstable woman.”

  “It’s not safe around here anyway, with someone shooting at us. Why on earth would anyone stay?”

  “True enough. That’s not your battle. But if you go, I still have no one to help care for Bobby. I see no other solution.”

  As if to punctuate his uncle’s statement, Bobby delivered the goods, loud and clear.

  Maddy mopped Bobby’s milky mouth, nuzzled his dandelion fluff hair, and settled him on her lap. Keeping her head down, she cuddled his warmth. Seeing her like that, Holt recalled the softness, the silkiness of her skin and felt a twinge of envy at his nephew’s privileged seat.

  “I know there’s not much time until the court date. But there must be something else we can do. Couldn’t we just fake it?” When she looked up, emotion sheeted her gaze. Sorrow at the thought of leaving? Or fear of the idea of marriage?

  “Fake it, for a judge?” He snorted his disdain. “Great way to lose the case, lose Bobby, and get clobbered with a fine.”

  “But marriage, Holt. Mr. and Mrs. Holt Donovan?” Anguish and indecision filled her eyes. Edging forward, she passed the goggle-eyed baby to Holt. To Bobby’s giggling delight, she stalked back and forth like a caged cat.

  Most women longed for love in their marriage. She’d fled a wedding to a man she didn’t love. How could he expect her to accommodate him now? Even temporarily. “After custody and adoption are final, we can get an annulment.”

  “A marriage in name only. Is that it?”

  “You’re under no obligation, Maddy. Bobby has no connection to you. He’s my family, my responsibility. You can leave tomorrow if you want. If you care about Bobby, marry me.” Best to limit her caring to the baby. No way he could suggest she might care enough about him to stay, let alone marry him. He held his breath.

  Narrowing her eyes, she stopped before him, arms folded beneath her breasts. The close-up view of their perfect roundness shot heat right to his groin. “So I can leave tomorrow. Does that mean you’ll drive me to town?”

  “If I have time.”

  “If I go, how will you manage with the baby?”

  “Damned if I know.” His nephew was his final card, his only leverage.

  Fury fired her expression, and she sputtered like oil on hot coals. She was magnificent. “Guilt-trip me, will you? No connection. No connection. I couldn’t be more connected to this precious babe here if he was my own. Damn you, Donovan, you’re as big a manipulator as Edgar Patterson. Bigger.”

  “I’ll do whatever it takes. I make no apologies.”

  “So cold and calculating. You claim to have such responsibility for this sweet little boy, but how much do you love him? With your heart encased in rock as hard as these mountains, how much can you love?”

  His gut tightened as if she’d punched him. He rocked his nephew. “Bobby knows I love him. You and I could do the deed on Monday. The state of Colorado has no wait and no blood test requirement.”

  She eyed him with suspicion. “And how do you know that?”

  “When Rob and Sara were planning to get married, they talked about eloping. He checked into it. Reckon he didn’t want to take a chance on another bride skipping a big wedding.”

  “Har de har har.” She collapsed on the bench.

  “We can drive to Denver. A buddy of mine from law school’s a superior court judge there. He’ll marry us, and we can drive back with a license to wave at the Pattersons.”

  “Get married and make it home by supper. It might work.” The words came out slowly, as if she tasted each one, mulled its meaning.

  The tension in Holt’s jaw eased. He had her. Then why did he feel as if he’d lassoed a mustang? One who’d run away at the first chance—and drag him in the dirt to boot. This temporary solution gave him a very dangerous bride.

  *****

  Maddy squinted through the moonless gloom at the road sign. Ten miles to Rangewood. Rain had herded them all the way from Denver. It sheeted a waterfall against the windows.

  “Ten seems too late to pick up Bobby at Espie’s.” The three-hour drive seemed interminable in an already endless day. She rolled her shoulders and glanced sideways at Holt.

  He nodded. “We’ll go straight to the ranch. She’ll bring him over in the morning.”

  In profile, his flattened nose gave him a fiercer look than usual, pugnacious as a boxer. Her...husband. Intense, tenacious, proud, powerfully male, and devastatingly sexy.

  She knew his feelings—concern for his nephew’s fate and little or nothing for her. Except desire. But that was just chemistry. She ought to feel trapped, though the marriage was temporary. She ought to feel anger for Holt’s coercing her into this sham, but she had herself to blame in large part. Instead, she felt warmth, anticipation, even...joy.

  Her heart thumped, and she pressed a hand over it to keep the agitated organ inside her chest. Surreptitiously she glanced at the circle of gold on her left hand. Holt’s grandmother’s wedding ring. Her wedding ring. And it fit. Perfectly. An omen? For good or ill?

  She averted her gaze to the window and the black nothingness occasionally spangled by headlights. Rain blurred even the dark. The windshield wipers seemed to be wagging fingers berating her. A second promise to herself was shattered. Her throat clogged, and she fought tears.

  I love him. She’d fallen in love with Holt.

  The marriage—charade though it was—embedded her more deeply in his and Bobby’s lives and sank tendrils into the soil of the Valley-D. Yet she had to go on as they planned. She would leave in June, ripping up roots that would were part of her now. She couldn’t invest and build on the Circle-S or ever return again. Either would cleave her in even more pieces.

  “We’ll have to convince everyone we’re truly married,” Holt said in an even tone.

  “We are truly married,” she snapped at his seeming sangfroid. He was planning and organizing as if this were a DEA case or a cattle sale.

  The Silverado stopped at the turn from the highway onto the ranch road. He hopped out to retrieve the mail from the box. When he returned, he raised a shaggy eyebrow at her. “Tired, Maddy? So am I. Unfortunate that the court had a full docket today and the judge couldn’t marry us until tonight. We’ll be home in
a few minutes.” He clicked the wipers to low as the rain dwindled to a drizzle.

  She stared through the mist at the dark road. Home. And what did that mean? She blinked at him when he placed a hand on her arm. Liquid warmth suffused her belly at the softness in his gaze. “What do you mean, appear truly married?”

  “I don’t like lying, but we have to convince everyone this is for real. That means Espie and Bronc too. They could be called to testify.”

  Her heart sank. Fool. What had she hoped he meant? “Oh.” Rallying, she hopped on his train of thought. “Then you’ll have to move your things into the master bedroom so she thinks we’re sleeping together.”

  He turned her toward him and tugged her arms around his neck. His hand made gentle circles on her shoulders. Raindrops slicked his hair and beaded his lashes. By the dashboard light she saw the dark flame of desire in his eyes. “We don’t need to pretend that part.”

  “Holt, you were the first one to say—”

  He touched a broad finger to her lips. “I know. Too complicated. And you think it’s not complicated already?”

  He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. His touch sparked instantaneous need. Before he pulled away, his tongue traced the seam of her lips, creating currents of electricity. He removed her arms from their lasso around his neck.

  “It’s our wedding night after all.” He hooked her camera case from behind the seats and dropped it in her lap. Putting the Silverado in gear, he headed down the drive toward the house. “You’re the photographer, sweetheart. Let’s go home and see what develops.”

  She slapped her forehead in reaction. “Mega corny. That line must date back to the daguerreotype.” But her thoughts were serious. Tearing herself away from Bobby and him would break her heart. If she and Holt made love, leaving him would smash it completely. But how could she reject her only chance with him? Better to have loved and lost or something like that. And she would have the memories, mind snapshots instead of the reality.

  A truck with no headlights barreled out of the night toward them. “Look out!”

  “What the hell!” Holt swerved to the right. He slammed on the brakes.

  The vehicle nearly sideswiped them as it careened past on a tidal-wave splash. It vanished behind them down the black road.

  “Are you all right?” Holt put his hand on her arm.

  “F-fine.” She inhaled to control her tumbling heart. “Who on earth was that?”

  “A damned good question.” He accelerated ahead. “We’d better get to the house and check things out pronto.”

  No porch lights or spotlight by the barn greeted them. Only an eerie orange glow on the right side of the barn.

  Maddy peered into the misty darkness. “What’s that funny light?”

  What had appeared a hazy glow at first, bloomed into shooting crimson flames. Smoke billowed like a storm cloud. Her pulse kicked like a maverick.

  “Fire!”

  Chapter 18

  The sight of flames eating through the barn wall and climbing to the roof stabbed Holt’s chest. He bounded from the truck. “The horses!”

  “I’ll get water!” Maddy ran for the hose.

  “Too late. Help me with the horses.” He dashed into the barn and slapped on the lights.

  Ears flattened, the three horses whinnied and tossed their heads. Acrid smoke filled the air and stung his throat. He grabbed the towel by the utility sink, dunked it in a bucket and held it over his mouth and nose.

  Maddy did the same. They unlatched the stalls and led each horse out. Screaming and rearing, the terrified beasts allowed the two humans to herd them away from the billowing smoke and to the corral on the safe side of the barn.

  After the horses were safe, Maddy ran to connect the hose. She aimed a stream of water at the barn wall, but it barely reached the flaming roof.

  After Holt settled the horses, he used his cell phone to call for help. Then he clicked on the outside spotlight and joined her. Neither the rain nor the rush of water from the hose was drowning the fire or calming the horses’ whinnies at the pungent scent of smoke.

  “Too late to save the barn. You’d do better to wet down the house roof.” A muscle in his jaw spasmed as he gazed around at the muddy ground. “Bastard couldn’t have picked a better night. The rain’s wiped away any tire tracks or footprints. Or he parked on the cement by the bunkhouse.”

  Black clouds rolled from the conflagration and were knocked down and diffused by the return of hard rain. The barn wall and roof were caving, but the rain seemed to contain the flames to the one building.

  Now that the danger was passing, his chest warmed at Maddy’s courage and strength. “Quick thinking. Thanks for your help.”

  “The truck that passed us,” she said, still soaking the house with the hose. “Whoever was in that truck started this blaze. Thank God for the rain.”

  “Looked like he ignited the hay bales against that wall. I’ll lose the barn, but insurance will replace it.” Rob had let insurance lapse, but with the equity loan, the bank had insisted on his reinstating it. Hell of a thing, being grateful to Edgar Patterson, even for that.

  She turned to him as if at a sudden thought. “Bronc! Where is he? Could he be hurt?”

  “He’s not here.” That had been his first concern too. He jerked a nod toward the bunkhouse. “His truck’s gone. To know that, somebody was watching the place real close.”

  “Not here?” She blinked into the night. The drizzle had increased to a downpour. “But where could he have gone?”

  He had an idea, but heaved a shrug as his only response.

  The last barn wall collapsed in on itself, and the flames began to sputter in the heavy rain.

  “Edgar Patterson will use this to his advantage.”

  He nodded. “Endangerment of a minor child or something like that.”

  Maddy shut off the water and wiped her hands on the wet grass. She started to the porch. “I’ll see if the house is okay.”

  “No. Don’t go in by yourself.”

  Reaching in the truck for the shotgun he kept in the gun rack, he drew deep breaths to calm his racing heart and focused on what he had to do. He climbed the porch steps. Stopped and tried the door. Maddy came up beside him but he shoved her to one side. “Unlocked. Wait here. Don’t come in until I call you.”

  Bent low, he pushed the door inward until it hit the wall.

  Darkness cloaked the kitchen. Not a light, not even a faint glimmer from the hallway night lights. Danger pricked the air with dagger points. “When I give you the word, reach inside and flip on all the lights.”

  “Got it.” Her voice was raspy but firm. Good, she’d hold together.

  Holt edged inside. Their unknown assailant was getting bolder. Thank God Bobby wasn’t here. He held his breath and listened. Nothing. Crouching, he scuttled to the hallway entrance and listened. “Hit it.”

  Clicks while she flicked up all three switches. Brilliant white flooded the kitchen and hallway.

  Blinking at the brightness, he crouched, listening, shotgun braced. The house appeared empty. Slapping on lights as he went, he checked the living room, then the bedrooms.

  He returned and uncocked the shotgun. “It’s all right. They’ve gone.” His surveying gaze cataloged the damage.

  She stepped inside and gasped at the devastation. Drawers lay on the floor, their contents strewn around them. All the cupboard doors stood open. Cornflakes, rice, and lord knew what else spilled across the counters. “What on earth?”

  Shotgun still in hand, he jerked a nod at the other rooms. “They hit the living room, but the baby’s room looks untouched. And the bedrooms. I’ll give them one more look.”

  When he returned to the kitchen, he found her on a chair, hugging herself and rocking. The sight of her pale and strained features squeezed a band around his chest. She was a sensitive creature of strong emotions, but he thought of her as indomitable as well.

  For so long he’d hated her, hated what she’d
done to his brother, hated his own attraction to her. When she’d first arrived, he treated her like a rabid coyote, but her bold spirit and generosity gradually dissipated his misplaced anger.

  And now where was he? Married to her. For Bobby. That was all.

  The adrenaline rush of the excitement past, he found his hands were shaking and his heart doing more than a fast trot. For him, hot entries and armed targets were the DEA’s normal business. Her adventurous life had shown her danger, but tonight must have made her feel she’d been tossed onto a bucking mustang. She looked vulnerable, brave, and beautiful.

  He lifted her gently to her feet. For such a tall, strong woman, she felt soft and delicate in his arms. As always, she fit perfectly against him. Her head rested against his neck.

  “Hell, Maddy, could’ve been worse. The horses are safe, we can rebuild the barn and he did no real damage in here. He didn’t slash the mattresses, only those damned ugly chairs and sofa. I hated them anyway.”

  When she gave a watery sigh against his chest, he continued, “It doesn’t look like robbery. Not that I have anything valuable. And you had your camera stuff with you.”

  Maddy went stiff as a board. “Could he have been after the pictures?” She sounded skeptical.

  “Someone afraid of what’s in your shots of the crime scene? Doubtful. The destruction looks more like deliberate vandalism than a search.”

  “Maybe.” She clutched his coat like a lifeline. When at last she stepped back, she pointed to the table. “There’s more. He left a note.”

  His pulse scrambled, and hairs rose on his nape. The sheet of cream-colored vellum lay flat on the worn wooden surface. The vandal had written his message in flowing black script.

  You have not suffered enough.

  *****

  When the sheriff’s men and the fire department left, it was past midnight. Exhaustion flooded every fiber of Holt’s body. He and Maddy had risen before dawn.

  He tunneled fingers through his hair and massaged his temples. This was the second attack. He ought to be able to identify the enemy. “Why? Why set the barn on fire and trash the house just to leave that note? Why shoot at us?”