Carla's Cowboys

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Carla's Cowboys Page 11

by Bella Settarra


  Indignant rage surged through her body. How dare he pretend to be so nice about it all when it was obvious they all knew more than they were letting on? They’d been in touch with Sheridan police, for Christ’s sake—of course they knew what had happened. And they were just waiting around for her to confess and hand over the cash so they could hand her over as soon as the cops got here from Wyoming. Fuck that!

  Her mind whirled.

  “You tell me, you seem to know so much,” she snapped.

  “Darlin’ I don’t know anything except that you’re in some kind of trouble and for some reason you don’t wanna tell us. But we can help you.” He stood up as he spoke and was suddenly standing right in front of her, his big green eyes pleading her to reveal all. Yeah, right!

  “Because Dyson just happens to be the sheriff around here, right?” She brushed against him as she shot to her feet, seething.

  Matt nodded.

  “So why didn’t he say so? Why didn’t you guys ask me all this yesterday before…?”

  She watched his eyes grow wider as he caught on to her thoughts.

  “You think that’s why we made love to you?” He was clearly mortified as he reached out for her.

  She stepped back. She couldn’t bear to feel his touch. Not now.

  “I’m not stupid.” She snarled, still edging backward as she shook her head.

  “No one’s sayin’ you are, baby.” Dyson appeared in the doorway.

  “No, but you obviously think it.” She spat the words at him, surprised at the hurt look on his face. She had somehow expected him to look triumphant, but, oddly, the sheriff looked anything but. He looked worried, panicked, almost. She wondered just what the Sheridan cops had been telling him.

  Dyson shook his head. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

  “No, you’ve got it all wrong! Whatever it is you’ve been told is just not true. I haven’t done anything wrong and I sure as hell don’t deserve to be treated like I have!” She yelled at him.

  “Have we treated you badly, baby?” Dyson looked hurt but she was too angry to care right now.

  “Oh no. You’ve treated me like a veritable princess! Gave me the time of my life. The only problem was it was all an act. You clearly just thought that sex would be the best way to get a confession out of me. Well, let me tell you right now, you’re wrong! It hasn’t worked. The sex was great but, hey, we all know that’s all it was. You didn’t need to lie and make out it meant anything ‘cause I’m not that stupid. I know when I’m being used. I just hope you do, too!” The words just tumbled out of her mouth as she bawled at the guys, who just stared at her, looking horrified.

  Aiden cleared his throat and she realized he hadn’t been aware of the whole situation. Damn! He was a nice guy and she didn’t want to hurt him. But he did look hurt. As did the Shearer brothers.

  She quickly looked away from their stunned faces, reminding herself that she was the victim here, not them.

  “I need to use the bathroom,” she murmured, pushing past Dyson in her desperate hurry to put some distance between them.

  After closing the bedroom door, she ran over to the bathroom before grabbing her bag. The bathroom window would definitely be too small for her to climb through, but the bedroom window was slightly larger so she went for it. Luckily, the bedroom was on the opposite side of the house to the living room so she knew they wouldn’t see her make her escape. She hit the ground running, picked up her bag and raced across the yard.

  It wouldn’t take them more than a few moments to realize she was missing again, so she ran hell for leather over to the stable block. One of the hands was just taking in a huge chestnut quarter horse and she called to him as he went to remove the saddle.

  “I’ll take him,” she called breathlessly.

  The guy looked up in surprise. “What?” He stopped on his way to the stall, gawping at her in disbelief.

  “The horse. I’ll take him. Aiden Fielding sent me over.” She could hardly get the words out of her mouth as she grabbed for the reins. The horse reared slightly, but she patted its sweaty flank in reassurance.

  “Okay, if you’re sure…?” The guy looked totally bemused but she didn’t care.

  Flinging her large frame into the saddle, she took off, just as a crowd of angry-looking men emerged from the nearby house. With no idea where she was going, she just rode the horse hard over fields and through woodland, avoiding any route which the sheriff’s SUV would be able to follow.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dyson gunned the engine as they watched Aiden take off on one of his thoroughbreds in the direction that they had seen Carla disappear.

  “What in hell happened?” he called over to his brother. “Everything was fine when I went to take that dang call. Next thing I know all hell had broke loose!”

  Matt shook his head. “I was just trying to convince her that she could talk to us, that’s all.”

  “Talk? She did a darn site more than that! And how in hell did we end up being the bad guy? From what I’ve heard we’re not a patch on that fuckwad from Wyoming!”

  Matt shook his head, miserably. “I don’t know. She just got all defensive and the next thing I know she thinks we slept with her in some crazy, misguided attempt to squeeze a confession out of her!”

  “No wonder she was running away!” Dyson moaned. “It wasn’t the fuckwad she was trying to escape from—it was us!”

  “Fuck!” Matt looked mortified and his brother immediately wished he’d kept his theory to himself.

  They were travelling east now, toward the Missouri, where they guessed Carla would be taking a break. That horse would need a drink if nothing else.

  “They can’t get far,” Aiden’s voice came over the speakerphone, “the horse hasn’t got that much left in him. Had a good long run this morning, she won’t be able to ride him longer than a half-hour by my reckoning.”

  “Well that’s good to know.” Dyson replied with relief.

  The car had to take a different route as Aiden followed Carla’s trail into some woodland.

  “We’ll still head for the river,” Matt told their friend over the speaker.

  “Think he’s OK about us heating things up with Carla?” he asked his brother after muting the phone.

  “I sure hope so,” Dyson said with a despondent sigh. “I can’t help thinking he’d have a lot more to offer her than us, though. I mean, just look at that spread. Our farm’s almost on its knees while his ranch is flourishing. He’s got that beautiful house where ours is still in need of a good lick of paint to say the least. Perhaps she should have gone with him after all.”

  “Listen to yourself, bro,” Matt replied in disbelief. “We’ve got a lot more to offer the girl than him. After all, we’ve got us!”

  Dyson hooted with laughter at his brother’s confidence. “Yeah, you’re right, buddy. How could any girl wish for more, eh?”

  “Exactly!” Matt held his hands up.

  “Are you there, Sheriff?” It was the radio this time.

  Dyson felt a sudden thud in his gut as he answered the stranger.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Sergeant Ron Biggleswade here, Sheriff. Sheridan police. We’ve arrived in Cavern County but had a tip off that our mark has been spotted just south of Pierre. Somewhere near the river, we believe. He’s travelling in a red pickup. You anywhere near there?”

  “Fuck!” Matt’s jokey demeanor vanished in a nanosecond.

  “We’re headed that way now. Any idea whereabouts, Sarge?” Dyson’s voice was tight as he tried to remain calm.

  Stepping on the gas, he sped off in the direction he was given. Matt was already on the cell talking to Aiden, who sounded as pissed as they were.

  ****

  Carla could tell the horse was getting tired. Poor thing must have already worn himself out before she even too
k over. They slowed down and headed toward the river. Once there she jumped down and watched as the beautiful chestnut immediately started to drink.

  “Thanks, boy,” she murmured. It wouldn’t be fair to push him any further so she left him resting in the early afternoon sunshine and set off on foot. At least she’d put some miles between herself and those dang Shearers, and they wouldn’t be able to follow her if she stayed away from the roads. She thought she’d seen someone on a horse headed her way a while back, with another rider some way behind him, which was good in a way. They were bound to need water at some point, so would probably pick up the horse she had just abandoned.

  She headed toward some mountainous terrain, then veered off into dense woodland. Under the shelter of the trees it was quite dark and she shivered as the sun left her back and the chill surrounded her. As she ventured further into the thicket she was aware of a mist following her where the woods edged the winding river. It gave a slightly eerie air to the scene, which was only enhanced by the silence which engulfed her as she continued to walk away from the water.

  Her only consolation in being lost and so far from civilization was that those dang Shearer brothers would never find her out here. She chewed her cheek angrily as she recalled the way they had made her feel earlier—used and rejected. She only hoped that her parting shot—about whether they could tell when they were being used also—would have any resonance with them. Despite knowing in her heart that what she was implying wasn’t in the slightest bit true, she couldn’t let them think they had won.

  Tears began to trickle down her face and she couldn’t be sure whether it was anger or hurt which had caused them—probably both. She wished so much that Aiden hadn’t found her last night, and that she hadn’t had to face the twins again. It would have been easier all ’round if they’d just thought she had had a change of heart and left town.

  After an hour or so she spotted a derelict woodsman’s hut in the distance and sighed with relief. The damp mist which surrounded the woods had caused a fine drizzle to descend all around her and she felt cold and uncomfortable.

  Only a small portion of the building still had a roof, and she made a beeline for that part. The floor was made of stone and weeds grew up between the cracks, creating a carpet of soft grass and moss underfoot. She sat on a dry patch and eagerly pulled the sandwiches from her bag. Although slightly squashed, they tasted delicious and she thought back to the kind lady who had made them. Aiden Fielding sure seemed to have it made with his fancy house, and Mrs. Redman obviously looked after him well. He was a kind guy and very handsome, but somehow she found her mind drifting, as always, back to the gorgeous Shearer brothers. Although not quite as refined as Aiden, there was a raw sexiness about those guys which affected her body like no one on earth. They didn’t need the expensive ranch or the housekeeper—they had themselves. The way those guys were tuned in to each other was an aphrodisiac in itself—they seemed to know exactly where and when to touch her, the right words to murmur into her ears and their timing was impeccable.

  Admonishing herself, she clenched her thighs together as her imagination began to run into overdrive, and she quickly finished her food. With a deep breath she realized that her whole body ached and she was beat. She couldn’t hear a sound, even the birds had stopped singing and she guessed the rain was about to get heavier. Tucking the bag under her head, she decided to chance a quick nap until the weather improved. She was well-hidden and would hear if anyone came near—she never slept that heavily when she was on the move.

  It felt like she had only just nodded off when a sound startled her. She shot up, grabbing her bag. It could only have been a twig snapping but it was enough. It was a disturbance. Squeezing herself hard against the rotting wall, she could hear her heart pounding as the blood surged through her ears. She heard that snapping sound again, closer this time. Someone was coming.

  Aware that she was nothing more than a sitting duck in the shelter of the old hut, she slowly crept to the edge of the broken wall, craning her neck to see what was causing the noise. As she did so she knocked some of the rotten timber from the corner of the building, and there was a scraping sound followed by a loud thud as several planks of wood became detached and fell onto the exposed stone below them. Damn!

  The air disappeared from her lungs and she felt her whole body turn to ice as the racket resounded in the still, damp air. There was nothing else for it—she ran. The trees barred her route and the uneven ground tried to trip her up as she fled the little shack in the semi-darkness and drizzling rain.

  “Oh no you don’t!” A familiar voice snarled from right behind her and she turned in horror just as a bony hand reached out and grabbed her shoulder. “Your running days are over, bitch!”

  Jerome Pearson practically threw her into a tree and she felt her legs turn to jelly. His face was ugly, contorted into a fearsome sneer that told her he wasn’t about to accept any kind of explanation. Then his fist came flying into her face while he had her pinned, helpless and terrified, against the thick trunk. He had the strength of a bulldozer and she felt her head swim as pain engulfed her. For a second she thought she was about to pass out, but she wasn’t that lucky.

  “Where is it?” he demanded, snatching the bag which had fallen to her feet.

  Mortified, she watched as he one-handedly emptied her clothes onto the wet bracken. His other hand held her tight. He even searched her toiletries bag but clearly couldn’t find what he was looking for.

  “What the hell have you done with it, bitch?” He shook her violently before slapping her around the face.

  Tears flooded her eyes as she stared at the blurry figure in front of her in disbelief. Pain seared her head and she felt sick.

  “Where’s my damn money, you thieving whore?” He spat into her face as he yelled at her, still shaking her mercilessly.

  Fear turned to anger at his audacity.

  “Y-your money?” She admonished herself for the tremble in her voice, but it was the best she could muster.

  He stared at her incredulously. “Well, you didn’t think it was yours, did you? If you’ve spent it I’ll…”

  “No!” she spat the word at him venomously.

  “Then where is it? Have you hidden it here?” He gestured angrily toward the shack. “Show me!”

  Her legs buckled beneath her and she slipped on the damp grass, slamming her knees hard on the ground. He didn’t care—he just tried to haul her back toward the wooden building.

  “Get up, bitch!”

  His hands came around her arms and he dragged her to her feet.

  Although a quivering wreck, the anger inside her spurred her on and she kicked him hard on the shin. As he let out a howl she began to run deeper into the woods. The heavy thud of his footsteps rang in her ears as she tried to escape, but she didn’t look back.

  As his hand reached out and grabbed her again she tore a thin branch from a nearby tree.

  “Get away from me!” Her voice rang out in the deserted woods, echoing around them, as she swiped the branch to and fro.

  Jerome’s face was a picture as he let go of her in surprise. “What the hell…?”

  “You had no right stealing from anyone, let alone Mr. Roberts,” she yelled at him angrily. “He had been nothing but kind to me and so had his wife!”

  Jerome sneered at her then he actually laughed. “So? He had money and I needed some.” He sounded incredulous, which only angered her even more.

  “That doesn’t give you and your buddies the right to steal it from him!” She swiped the branch in front of her again, swaying it from side to side as he attempted to edge nearer.

  “My buddies? Is that what you call them? They’re nothing but a waste of fucking space! I told them to stay out of the way of the damn cameras but did they listen? Did they fuck! Every one of ’em got caught on the fucking CCTV then the bastards ratted to the cops on me!
Even accused me of running off with the fucking cash ’cause of you!” He lurched forward one more time and she swiped his arm with the branch.

  “Me? How in hell did all this become my fault?” She screeched at him as he howled in pain, clutching his arm.

  “You stole the fucking cash—and don’t try to deny it! Only thing is they think it was a put up job—as if I’d trust you to get in on it!” He was pointing a bony finger at her now and she did her best to hit it with the branch, too.

  “I didn’t steal it! I took it back for Mr. Roberts,” she hollered at him. “It’s his money, not yours!”

  “Oh yeah, then how come the cops are after you for it? The old guy sure hasn’t admitted to getting it back—I wonder why that is?” His smarmy attitude was getting to her now and she swiped the branch one more time.

  He made a grab for it with his good hand and yanked it painfully out of her fingers. In an instant he was towering over her with the branch held above her head. She cowered into a heap on the wet ground in front of him.

  Sickness roiled within her and she braced herself for the pain she just knew could be her last. As dread flooded her body she thought she would have imagined her life flashing before her eyes. But it wasn’t her life she was thinking of—it was two men. Matt’s sensual smile and Dyson’s tender touch filled her thoughts. She wanted them, needed them, loved them. The realization strengthened her as she stared defiantly into the cruel face of her nemesis.

  Pure evil emanated from his screwed up, mean eyes and his chest was puffed out like an action hero from an old comic-book. But he wasn’t a hero. He was a bastard. And this bastard had the means and the motive to end her life. Now.

  “I’d think twice about that if I were you.” Dyson’s deep voice broke the still silence which seemed to last an age.

  Trying to work out what was going on, Carla chanced a look over Jerome’s shoulder, where she saw a gun pointing at the bastard’s right temple. Her heart must have missed a beat because straight afterward she could hear nothing but its rapid thump, which rang in her ears, momentarily blocking out everything around her.

 

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