Remembering Red Thunder

by Sylvie Kurtz

  Garth took advantage of her momentary lapse in vigilance, jumped up and advanced toward her. He extended a hand forward, smiled his most brilliant smile. “Give me the gun, Taryn. I know you don’t want to use it. Just give it to me.”

  She squeezed the trigger, deliberately grazing his biceps. He fell to one knee, gaped at the red stain coloring his jacket. “You could have killed me!”

  “Believe me, if I’d wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”

  THE SOUND OF A GUN ripping through the air momentarily paralyzed Chance.

  Taryn.

  The single word propelled him forward. He fought off the wave of terror sweeping over him and sprinted as fast as he could. Taryn. He had to help her.

  “Chance, wait,” Angus called after him, but Chance ignored him, pounding into the dense foliage of fully leafed trees.

  He should slow down. He should call for backup. He should do a million things, but he could focus only on one thought—getting to Taryn.

  Weapon. What could he use for a weapon? His gun was held in evidence. His diving knife was at home. “Angus, hand me your weapon.”

  “Not when you’re running this hot.”

  Chance cursed and snagged a branch on the fly. Taryn, wait for me. Hang on. Leg muscles straining over the uneven path, breath burning in his lungs, he shot into the clearing and came to a grinding halt.

  There before him stood Taryn like some Valkyrie, holding a quivering Garth Ramsey at gunpoint.

  Chance didn’t know what he’d expected, but this wasn’t it. Relief was so great, he deflated like a nicked balloon.

  She turned her head and smiled at him. “Well, it’s about time.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Chance saw Garth move. Before he could react, Garth snapped an arm around Taryn’s neck. One good yank and he could break her neck. The gun was in his left hand and aimed at Angus, who’d just walked onto the clearing.

  “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a bit of a situation,” Garth said.

  Chance couldn’t move. Any movement would cause the death of one of the people he cared for the most. Whatever Angus had failed to tell him, one thing couldn’t be denied—he’d been a good father to him, and his and Lucille’s love had given him an anchor from which he’d built his life with Taryn.

  Staring at Angus, Garth said, “Drop the gun, old man.”

  “Taryn, sweetheart, are you all right?” Angus asked as he placed his weapon on the ground.

  “Shut up, old man. Kick the gun toward me.”

  Angus did as instructed.

  “I’m fine,” Taryn said, but her voice was strained over the arm crushing her vocal chords.

  Chance gripped the oak branch in his hand tighter and wished he could whip it against Ramsey’s head. But he couldn’t make a mistake. Not with Taryn’s life in the balance.

  “Maybe we can reach an agreement,” Taryn croaked. “What do you want?”

  “It’s too late for agreements,” Garth said.

  Garth was in too deep, Chance realized. He couldn’t let any of them get away.

  Red Thunder rumbled. Sweat slicked Chance’s skin. He didn’t like being cornered like this. He wanted to rush forward and pluck Taryn from the arms of danger. But rushing at this stage would set the stage for a scuffle. Someone would get hurt. Red-hot rage burned in his chest.

  Something flashed across his brain. A picture, fully formed. Can you stop the river?

  Swallowing back the bitter taste in his mouth, Chance spoke calmly. “It takes a lot to stop a river.”

  “What did you say?” Garth’s eyes widened with shock.

  Chance would have only one opportunity to save Taryn and Angus. He would have to count on both of them reacting without thinking.

  Priming himself for action, he yelled, “Get down!”

  Everything happened at once. Angus flattened to the ground. Taryn sank, her weight taking Garth with her. He hauled her back up. But with his grasp loosened, she could butt her head into his forehead. Garth brought his gun around to Chance, opening his stance. With the advantage of momentum, Taryn rolled sideways, wrenching Garth’s arm and freeing herself from his grip. Chance rammed Garth with all his might. Angus rushed forward, protecting Taryn with his body.

  The sandy bank crumbled beneath the weight of Chance’s and Garth’s bodies. The river roared around them as they smacked into the turbulent water. Surrounding them, it whirled and spun them downriver.

  Taryn screamed.

  At that sound of pure despair, something cracked. From the deep recesses of his mind, memories spilled like a stack of dropped photographs. The fight. The fall. The hands pushing down on him. The body bumping up against him. Hanging on to a tree for his life. Water streaming over him. He couldn’t breathe.

  Then all the pieces fell together in one flowing picture, and he knew. He relived the fear that had paralyzed him, that had warped and stolen his memory, that had nearly killed him. Midgasp, he remembered how to breathe, how to use the water, how to make it his friend.

  Red Thunder had no more power over him.

  Someone latched onto him, dragging him down. Chance didn’t fight the downward momentum. His lung capacity was great. He could hold his breath for a full two and a half minutes.

  Garth quit struggling, and with powerful strokes Chance swam for shore. He dragged Garth onto the bank.

  “Chance, Chance, where are you?” Taryn’s voice floated to him from beyond the trees. Never had anything sounded so beautiful.

  As his mind scrambled to order all the information resurfacing, one thing became clear—Taryn’s love. Through all this nightmare, it was the one constant. She’d given him his past. She was his future. He was the luckiest man on earth.

  “Over here.”

  Taryn and Angus crashed through a cluster of bushes. Garth squirmed like a beached fish, gasping for breath. Chance raised his fist. With both hands around his, Taryn stopped the downward blow.

  “This nightmare is over, Chance, don’t start a new one.”

  He looked up at her, at those blue eyes filled with love for him, and knew she was right.

  The nightmare was over. All of it.

  A CUFFED GARTH SAT crumpled on the ground, moaning about his injuries. Taryn had taken a quick look at his wound and his wrenched arm. He’d survive. The sheriff, along with two deputies, had walked onto the scene a moment earlier. He studied the faces before him, uncharacteristically silent.

  “He’s not Kyle,” Taryn said to the sheriff as she hung on to Chance’s arm. “He’s Kent.”

  “I know,” the sheriff said. “The prints didn’t match.” He nodded toward Garth. “He swiped them. I got the hospital to refax them.”

  Holding Taryn by the waist, Chance faced the sheriff. “I don’t know what happened to Ellen, but Kyle didn’t hurt her. She was already hurt when she floated down to the cove where I was stuck. Kyle put her back onshore, then came back to get me.”

  “I do.” Taryn raced to her purse, rummaged through the contents and brought out her key chain. She pressed the Play button and Garth’s mocking voice warbled onto the clearing.

  “Fool tried to save both her and his brother. The river wasn’t about to give all of them up. Not as hungry as it was.”

  “And Ellen hit her head because you pushed her.”

  “When the search party got here, I conveniently found Ellen. She was still alive. I was plannin’ on rollin’ her back into the river, only the park ranger chose that time to appear, and I had to make it look as if I was attemptin’ to save her.

  “I got in one good hit. Thankfully it scrambled her mind.

  “The blow was enough to keep her in a coma for a couple of years. Then the care at the private facility was workin’ too well.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The trick to influence is findin’ out what’s in it for the other guy, givin’ him what he wants in exchange for what you want. Ellen got a little help to keep her brain scrambled.”

  “You drugg
ed her.”

  “I gave her peace.”

  The sheriff’s face turned red. His fists were clenched. His body was so stiff, his muscles shook from the force. “I trusted you.”

  “I did what you wanted. I took care of Ellen.”

  “If it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t have needed care in the first place.” The sheriff rammed his foot into Garth’s ribs. He was about to hit him again, but Chance and Angus held him back. “You drugged her, you bastard. You kept her from me all these years.” He spit in Garth’s face. “You are going to pay for this. You will rot in jail.”

  “I’ve got records of everything you did for me.”

  “I don’t give a damn. I’d rather die behind bars than give you one more minute of freedom.”

  The sheriff motioned to his deputy. “Garth Ramsey,” he said as they hefted Garth to his feet. “You’re charged with the attempted murder of Taryn Conover, Chance Conover and Angus Conover.”

  As he was marched back to the cruiser waiting on the old lumber road, Garth was read his rights.

  “I’ll need y’all to stop by the office and give a statement,” the sheriff said. His defeated look reminded her of Billy Ray’s aged bull, plodding in the pasture.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, tipping his hat at them, “I’ve got some phone calls to make.”

  As Angus started to follow the sheriff out, Chance said, “You were right, Angus, there was nothing here for me.”

  Angus’s eyes watered and a small smile shook on his face. He gave a nod. “I’ll wait for you at the station.”

  AS THE LAST OF THE SUN bled into the river, Taryn stood next to Chance. She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest. The slow, even drumming of his heart soothed her.

  She glanced at the water, still rippling golden red in the dying sunlight. “Do you think he survived?”

  “Kyle?” Chance bent to place a kiss on top of her head. “I don’t know.”

  She found herself hoping he had, that he’d found a good family like the Conovers to take him in, that he’d grown into an honorable man like his brother. She hoped that his memories weren’t haunting him the way they were haunting Chance.

  “I don’t care,” she said.

  “About what?”

  “If you never remember the life we had together.”

  “Taryn—”

  She shook her head and placed a finger against his lips. “We’ll just make new memories.” She leaned back in his embrace so she could look into his eyes. “I’m pregnant. Come January, we’re going to have a baby.”

  The shock of her announcement widened his eyes. A slow smile spread over his lips, tipped up slightly higher on the left side, lending his sharp features a boyish charm. “A baby? Really?” He cocked his head, and the look in his eyes was positively beaming with pride. “Had to have been the weekend we spent in Beaumont a couple of months ago.”

  It was her turn to gape. “You remember!”

  He raked his fingers through her loosened hair, held her face in his hands and peered deeply into her eyes. There were no shadows left in his eyes, just a crystal clarity that reflected the goodness of his soul. “I remember everything. Our marriage, the accident—both of them. Everything.”

  A sudden pang of fear whittled at her newfound joy. “Being Kent?”

  “Being Kent.” He pressed her hard against his heart. “The dead eyes, the hair. They were Ellen’s. She floated against the same tree I was hanging on to. Things are still a bit fuzzy, but I know Kyle wasn’t trying to drown me. He was trying to save me. My foot got caught in an uprooted tree. He was pushing me down so he could release me. I panicked. That’s what I saw. The face like mine above the water—it was my twin trying to save me.”

  He remembered all of his past. Not quite knowing how to phrase the question weighing heavy on her heart, she licked her lips. She fiddled with the mud encrusted on Chance’s T-shirt.

  “What’s wrong?” Chance hiked her chin up until their gazes met once again.

  “Who are you now?”

  A heartwarming laugh boomed from him. “Who do you want me to be?”

  “Whoever your heart tells you you are.” She held her breath, not knowing what to expect.

  He kissed her once, twice, three times. “Then I’m Chance Conover, husband, friend, sheriff.”

  “Oh, Chance.” Arms snaking around his neck, she kissed him back.

  When the kiss ended, Chance said, “You’ll do to run the river with.”

  Heart glowing warm, she said, “You’re not half-bad yourself.”

  He took her hand in his, and together they started up the path in the woods.

  Epilogue

  “It’s time.”

  Chance tripped out of bed and stood rooted, helpless in the dark. “Now? Are you sure?”

  “My water just broke.”

  Water had brought him to a new life fifteen years ago. New life was coming to him now with the discharge of water from Taryn’s body.

  I’m not ready, he wanted to say. He didn’t think he’d ever be ready. He didn’t know anything about kids, let alone about babies. Would he make a good father? What if he didn’t do it right? He fumbled for the light switch and found it.

  Blinking at the sudden brightness, he went from drawer to closet throwing on clothes. “Where’s your bag?”

  “By the door.”

  “Should I call your doctor?”

  “I’ll do it.”

  For the life of him, he couldn’t remember where he’d put the keys to his truck.

  “On the dresser,” she said.

  He grabbed the keys and the bag and darted through the door. Taryn, he forgot Taryn. She was shuffling behind him, one hand on her lower back, the other skimming the hallway wall. Then she doubled over.

  Racing back to her, he dropped the keys and the bag. “Are you okay?”

  She patted his cheek and puffed hard for a couple of breaths. “Contraction. I’m fine. Are you going to be okay to drive?”

  “I’m fine. I’m fine.” He took a couple of deep breaths. “I’m fine.”

  Somehow, they made it to the hospital, and five agonizing hours later, their daughter was born. Pink and wrinkled, she howled her way into the world. Taryn had done well. He was wrung out. While Taryn rested, he called Angus, Lucille and Nola. Another call to the station ensured RoAnn would let the whole town know about the birth.

  He couldn’t stop looking at his new little girl. Every few minutes, he found himself reaching into her bassinet and fingering the shock of dark hair on top of her head. His baby. His daughter.

  There was a soft knock on the door and a blond head poked inside. “Hi.”

  “Ellen, come on in.”

  “Taryn’s sleeping. I don’t want to disturb her.”

  “I’m awake,” Taryn said, waving their guest in. “I was just enjoying watching Chance cuddle his daughter.”

  Ellen squealed softly as she peered at the baby. “She’s beautiful. What’s her name?”

  “Shauna Tyne,” Chance said.

  “It means ‘present from the river.’”

  “And what a present she is,” Ellen agreed.

  “Do you want to hold her?”

  A shadow passed over Ellen’s gray-green eyes. She shook her head. “I don’t want to drop her.” Her fine motor skills still needed work.

  “You’ll be fine.” Taryn patted the bed next to her, inviting Ellen to sit. “Chance…”

  Chance picked up his daughter. She weighed nothing and he could understand Ellen’s reluctance. He was glad enough to place her into Taryn’s arms.

  “What are you doing at the hospital?” Taryn asked Ellen.

  “A pain and torture session. I’m due at physical therapy in a few minutes, but I heard you were here and I had to visit.”

  Ellen’s recovery was nothing short of miraculous. She’d regained most of her strength, bought a piece of land outside of town and was starting a new life. She didn’t
take kindly to any meddling, even the well-meaning kind.

  “I’m picking up my own baby in a few days,” Ellen said. Her smile reminded him of a pixie with a trick up her sleeve.

  “You’re adopting?” Taryn asked, gawking at the child in her arms.

  Ellen nodded. “A beautiful dappled gray mare. She was in an accident at the racetrack and she needs slow recovery—just like me.”

  “Are you sure you’re strong enough?” Chance asked. He worried about her all on her own, but she insisted that after living in a cage for fifteen years, she was ready for some freedom.

  She laughed. “If I can handle all the stretching and mauling they put me through downstairs, I can handle anything.”

  And the look in her eye said she just might.

  Shauna Tyne, realizing she was no longer the center of attention, made her presence known with a bawling cry. Taryn fussed over her and soon the child contentedly suckled at her mother’s breast.

  He barely registered Ellen tiptoeing out of the room. The look of contentment on Taryn’s and Shauna’s faces was one he wanted to memorize.

  Right here, right now, he couldn’t think of anywhere else he wanted to be. He wrapped an arm around Taryn’s shoulder. She tipped her head up to smile at him, then leaned her head against his chest. Heart overflowing with love, with his wife and his child by his side, he was home where he belonged.

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-4308-8

  REMEMBERING RED THUNDER

  Copyright © 2002 by Sylvie L. Kurtz

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.