Chiseled - A Standalone Romance (A Super Sexy Western Romance)

by Naomi Niles

  I couldn't understand why my own father would turn a gun on me, but he had. The look in his eyes had been cold and dead, like a shark's, and I knew he had no love for me. He wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger, so I had to do whatever was necessary to escape.

  I was going to try to reason with Frank not to kill me, or even beg him for my life if I had to, when Colton had appeared out of nowhere at the top of the hill. My heart leapt with joy at the sight of him, looking handsome as hell on Whiskey's back in his suit with his black Stetson on. Best of all, he distracted Frank and gave me the chance I needed to fight for my life.

  I didn't even think about it; I just acted on instinct as all the training classes I'd taken on women's self-defense took over my mind and body.

  His throat felt surprisingly hard and yet squishy when I punched him, and the impact hurt my hand, but I didn't hold back. I followed through with all my strength. I saw him drop the gun into the river and clasp his throat, and then I just took off running.

  The branches and leaves from the shrubs were scratching my tender flesh, but I just kept pushing onward. The sun was setting on the horizon, and if I could just evade him until dark, I could use the night to shield me until I could find my way back to the ranch.

  "Bethany! You can't run from me!" It was Frank. He was calling out to me through the woods, taunting me to surrender myself to him. No doubt he knew he had a limited amount of time to find me, too.

  I circled wide through the trees back towards the place where it had all begun by the river. I looked up the hill to see if Colton was still there, but he was gone, and I felt my heart sink with despair.

  My lungs hurt so badly from running, I thought they were going to explode. I had to stop for a moment to catch my breath. Crouched behind a thick shrub, I bent forward with my hands on my knees and focused on taking slow even breaths.

  Suddenly, I saw Frank in the distance through the leaves. He was in much worse shape than I was and struggling to breathe, too. He bent forward, and I thought it was to rest, but then I saw him pull a knife out his boot. The stainless steel blade glimmered in the sunlight, sending chills down my spine.

  "Come out, Bethany!" he called into the trees. "Come out and I'll make it painless. If I have to hunt you down, I promise I'll make you pay for it."

  No way was I going to make it easy for him to kill me. If he wanted to stab me, he was going to have to work for it, and I was going to fight him with every ounce of strength I had left.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw footprints in the ground. Crap! They were my footprints – and it was only a matter of time before Frank saw them and realized I had circled around him.

  Moving as silently as possible, I stepped into the river. Walking in the water was the way to avoid leaving any prints. It was cold and moving swiftly, but it wasn't deep. The water only went up to my knees, and if I moved quickly, it might just my road of escape.

  As I waded up the river, I could hear Frank behind the trees. "Footprints. I've got you now, you little bitch," he shouted.

  Crap! I had to hurry. There was a bend in the river up ahead. If I could make it to the bend, I could effectively disappear. He wouldn't know where I had gone, and by the time he figured it out, I would be halfway back to the ranch.

  Running against the current was tough, and the uneven river bottom made it even more difficult. I was almost to the bend when my leg wrenched as my foot got stuck. I looked down to see it had gotten trapped in a tangle of debris and rocks.

  Just then, Frank appeared out of the woods further down the river. Submerged in the river up to my knees, with my foot caught in the debris, there was no place for me to hide and no way for me to run. He caught sight of me instantly and started advancing with the large knife in his hand.

  "Aren't you going to run?" he taunted me, as I pulled on my foot, desperate to get free. Laughing cruelly, Frank said, "This is almost going to be too easy. The only problem is I'll have to be creative to frame someone else for your murder."

  Realizing it was futile to try to pull my foot free, I crouched down in the river and yanked at the rocks and weeds that held me captive, trying to release my foot that way.

  Frank was taking his time as he approached me, knowing I couldn't escape. He took pride in his victory and bragged about his past crimes. "Don't worry, I'll find a way to get off free. Just like I framed Jackson and Floyd for stealing the Hutchinsons’ cattle.

  “Those two morons were easy to manipulate. I got them to do all the work, slipping the cattle through the gate I'd made in the fence. Then I'd drive away with the truck to meet my buyer. I told them we'd get paid when the summer was over, but I got paid with every load and kept all the money. I told Jackson and Floyd that if they talked, I'd kill their families. They must have believed me, because they haven't said a word to the sheriff."

  "You stole the Hutchinsons’ cattle?" I gasped. "I can't believe it."

  "Yeah, you think I'm this wonderful dad you want to move in with so we can play happy family," Frank snarled sarcastically.

  "Well, I can't have that. You'd find the cash I kept stashed and ruin everything. I had to get rid of you. I thought burning up your paintings would be enough to drive you away, but you’re too stubborn, just like your damn mother."

  "You started the barn fire?" He within striking distance now, and my time was about up.

  "Don't play dumb with me. I dropped my lighter during the fire and the damn Marshal found it. Luckily, most people are still thinking your boyfriend did it and aren't looking for me. Maybe I can find a way to frame him for killing you, too. That would be perfect. Only now you have a sketch proving that the lighter is mine."

  "I didn't know," I pleaded. "You don't have to kill me."

  "I don't have to, but it's going to be fun." He gleamed and lunged towards me with the knife in his hand.

  Suddenly, I spotted a glint of metal in the water. I looked down in the shimmering water to see the gun Frank had dropped laying just a few feet away downstream on the bottom of the river. Could I reach it in time to shoot him before he reached me? As he tightened his grip on the knife, I prayed to God that I could.

  Chapter Thirty: Colton

  I was riding Whiskey hard when I rounded the bend in the path. Up ahead, standing in the river, I saw Bethany. Frank was right upon her with a large buck knife, preparing to kill her. Even though Whiskey's breathing was labored, she rushed forward with a burst of speed, cutting right between them and making Frank stagger backward.

  I jumped off Whiskey's back and punched the son-of-a-bitch across the jaw with my right fist. Frank fell back into the water with a huge splash. When he climbed up out the river, he knocked my feet out from under me, sending me crashing down onto my back. Instantly soaked, I staggered back onto my feet and squared off to him.

  Frank circled around me with the knife still in his right hand. He swiped at me, and I narrowly dodged the blade. He sliced my shirt instead and swore angrily. Frank tried to cut me again, and I managed to grab his arm, twisting it painfully until he dropped the knife. He punched at me, and I hit him back hard with my fists.

  In a dirty move, he kicked me in the groin. I doubled over, falling down into the river on my hands and knees, gasping.

  The knife was resting on the bottom of the riverbed just a few feet away, and when my eyes fell upon it, I crawled swiftly through the water towards it. The rocks dug into my knees and palms, but I had to get to the knife in order to save Bethany.

  Frank kicked me in the gut again, making me fall face first into the cold water. When I came up, the handle of the knife was firmly in my grip and I sliced at him, catching his leg.

  Frank staggered back, clutching his wound, and I managed to scramble to my feet. My fingers flexed around the handle of the knife, and I tried to strategize what to do next.

  I certainly didn't want to stab anyone to death, but Frank had tried to kill Bethany and he was a threat to the safety of my family, our ranch, and the woman I loved. I had to
do whatever was necessary to apprehend him – even it meant getting blood on my hands.

  As I advanced on him, Frank picked up a waterlogged branch that had been drifting in the river and swung, making contact with my shoulder.

  It hurt like hell, and I dropped the knife. We both dove for it, scrambling in the water, wrestling for the upper hand.

  Frank's hand grabbed the blade first, and he stood over me where I knelt in the river. With a gloating grin, he said, "It's going to be easy to frame you for the murder of my stupid kid now that your fingerprints are on the knife."

  "Over my dead body." I glared up at him. There was no way I was going to let him hurt her.

  Frank just grinned down me with an evil glint in his eye. "That's exactly what I had in mind."

  Chapter Thirty-one: Bethany

  My heart was in my throat as Colton bravely wrestled with Frank over the knife, splashing in the cold river in a battle of life and death. I had to help him. He was risking his life to save mine, but I couldn't live without him if Frank killed him.

  Fearing for Colton's life gave me the strength I needed to finally lift the heavy pile of rocks and debris that had ensnared my foot. With a mighty heave, I lifted it off my foot and threw it far into the water. At long last, I was free.

  I bolted forward several feet and reached for the gun still lying on the riverbed. I'd never held a gun before and was surprised by how heavy it felt in my hand. I cocked it back, praying I'd done it right. My heart was pounding in my chest so rapidly, I thought it might burst.

  I turned around just in time to see Frank lean over and grab Colton by the collar of his shirt, jerking him up out of the water. The knife glinted in Frank's hand as he moved to slit Colton's throat.

  Without thinking, I held the gun high above my head, closed my eyes, and pulled the trigger. The barrel was pointed straight up in the sky, and the gun kicked back with surprising force as the bullet fired through the air with a deafening bang.

  It startled Frank enough to let go of Colton, dropping him back into the water.

  "Now take it easy," Frank said to me with his hands held up in a position of surrender, still gripping the knife.

  "Are you all right?" I called out to Colton.

  "I'm better now that I know you're okay" He smiled at me with relief. I had the gun pointed right at Frank's chest, and Colton removed the knife from him handily, saying, "I'll take that."

  "What do we do now?" I asked, still pointing the gun at my father. My knees were shaking, but my hands were surprisingly steady, giving a false impression of confidence and calm. The sky had to turned to dusk around us, giving the moment a magical feel…or perhaps I was experiencing an adrenaline high.

  "I'll tie him up, and we'll take him to William," Colton said. He tucked Frank's knife into his own belt loop while my father groaned with misery. Colton slapped him on the shoulder as he guided him out of the river and onto the shore, saying to him, "My brother will arrest you for attempted murder."

  Following them onto the shore, I pitched in, "Not to mention cattle rustling and arson."

  Colton's eyes grew wide with surprise. He looked at me and said, "If he's smart, he'll make a deal and tell my brother where the missing cattle are. If not, he'll get the harshest sentence the law will allow. Either way, he's going to spend a long time behind bars."

  "He sold them already, but I think I know where stashed the cash. We spent a lot of time together these past few weeks, and he always got nervous when we'd pass by one particular tree. I have a feeling if you search there, you'll find it." I could tell from the glare in Frank's eye that I was right, and Colton kissed me with gratitude.

  Colton found Whiskey standing on the river's edge and pulled a length of rope from the quarter-horse's saddlebag. As Colton prepared to tie the rope around Frank’s wrists, I finally let myself relax. My knees felt watery, and I collapsed onto a fallen tree log with the gun in my lap and my head in my hands.

  Colton fumbled with the rope, and within a fraction of a second, Frank took advantage of the situation, just like I'd done to him earlier. He grabbed the knife from Colton's belt loop, grabbed him by the throat, and held the deadly blade to his neck, twisting his arm painfully behind him so he couldn't fight.

  "I've got a better plan," Frank snarled, pressing the knife against Colton's tender flesh right below his Adams apple. "How about I kill the two of you, take that horse, grab my money, and go someplace far away? No one will ever know what happened when they find your dead bodies, if they ever do."

  "Don't forget, I still have this." I pointed my gun directly at Frank, but he held Colton right in front of his body like a shield and I was afraid to shoot. The chances of hitting Colton were just too great.

  "Drop the gun or I'll slit his damn throat right here,” Frank shouted.

  "You're going to kill us both anyway," I said in a shaky voice.

  "If you put the gun down, I'll let you both live. I'll tie you to a tree and just take off," Frank promised. Colton struggled in his grip, but Frank twisted his arm until it nearly broke, forcing him to be still, and pierced the tip of knife deeper into his neck until a drop of blood appeared.

  "He's lying," Colton choked.

  I knew he was, but what choice did I have? A thin line of blood was now trickling down Colton's throat where the knife pressed.

  "Okay," I said. I bent forward as if I were going to set down the gun. When I got low enough, I had a clear line of sight of Frank's boot. I pulled the trigger and fired.

  Frank screamed in pain and surprise as the bullet pierced through his foot. The knife fell from his hand as he collapsed onto the ground, screaming out and clutching his bleeding foot. Colton grabbed the knife, removing it from Frank's reach. It was clear that Frank had lost.

  Colton turned and looked at me with love shining in his hazel-green eyes. He held out his arms, and I ran into them.

  "Are you all right?" I asked him.

  "You saved my life." He pulled me into his arms and kissed me with a passionate embrace.

  It had been a terrifying ordeal wondering if Frank would kill me, Colton, or the both of us. We'd made it through alive, and I knew now that nothing else mattered in this world besides our love for each other. With tears of joy in my eyes, I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him back.

  Chapter Thirty-two: Colton

  My brothers were shocked as hell that night when Bethany and I arrived back at the ranch with Frank Hill bound and bleeding on the back on my horse.

  They were even more surprised when Bethany led us all to the old maple tree by the workers’ cabins and unearthed a paper bag that had been buried beneath it. When we opened the bag, it was filled with cash. I didn't have time to count it, but I was willing to bet it would equal the amount of money we'd lost from the missing cattle.

  I'd had to use my favorite shirt to bind the bullet hole Bethany had put through the middle of Frank's foot, but there was no way I was going to let the son-of-a-bitch bleed to death before we could prosecute him for all his crimes.

  William took him into custody, and it was agreed that Bethany would need to stay on the ranch until she made her statement to the sheriff's office, and possibly longer to testify.

  A few days later, when we were all sitting on the porch enjoying some of Mama's fresh squeezed lemonade, I said aloud, "I wish we had another witness to Frank's crimes besides just Bethany and me."

  It was a fact that Bethany was my girlfriend and I was still being investigated for insurance fraud. A clever defense attorney might be able to make a good case that the two of us were setting him up, and I didn't want that maniac to be set free. He had tried to hurt Bethany once, and he might do it again. I needed to know that he'd be in prison for a long, long time.

  "I'll testify," Travis volunteered. I didn't have the heart to tell him that he was just as bad a witness as we were, because he was my brother. Travis tossed a ball across the porch for Maggie. "When we recovered that lighter in the barn during our investig
ation of the fire, I knew I recognized it, but I just couldn't remember who owned it. Now, it's clear in my mind. It belonged to Frank Hill. He used it every time we took a break working with the cows."

  "I'll testify, too," Mack said, and I sighed with relief. Mama had insisted the employees take a lemonade break, too. It was the beginning of August, and hot as hell outside. The lemonade allowed us to forget it for little while, and a gentle breeze helped.

  "I'll testify, too," Butch chimed in. They were two of the ranch's oldest and most loyal employees. They'd been working for my father when I was just a kid, and had stuck around all these years. They were just like family, but in a court of law, they would reliable witnesses who weren't related to the Hutchinsons, and I was grateful for their help. I told William the moment he came home that night.

  "No need." He slapped me on the shoulder with brotherly affection. We were all huddled around the dining room where Mama was serving a feast. Cooking was her way of releasing stress, with everything from hand-squeezed lemonade to full turkey dinners.

  As William took his place at the table, I looked around for Bethany, hesitant to let her out of my sight, and breathed with relief when I saw her talking on her cell phone in the next room.

  I turned my attention back to William as he loaded up his plate. "Frank Hill is singing like a bluebird,” he said. “He confessed to both the fire and the cattle rustling. He's denying the attempted murder, but we've got medical evidence from the doctor's report on both your injuries and Bethany's."

  "He confessed? You're not letting him go free on a plea bargain are you?" My anger came from a place of fear as I looked at Bethany smiling prettily into the phone as she talked with her mother, unaware of what was happening at the table.