by Nico Rosso
Driving behind her on the way to her place, he tried to take comfort in getting out of town. The approaches were mostly visible at the orchard. The house had the high ground. It should be simpler there, but he knew it wouldn’t be. The more time he spent with Mariana, the more complicated everything became. The intimidation on her house and land. His ultimate task with Frontier Justice. All of it twisted together, melted by the heat he felt when he looked into her eyes. Her strength and intelligence were there, and her pain.
When he’d seen the fear on her face as she’d come out of Sydney’s store with the phone in her hand, he’d nearly lost his head. If that son of a bitch had still been on the phone, Ty would’ve gladly called him down to the street to see who was faster on the trigger. But that would’ve put the man in the morgue and Ty in a whole lot of trouble.
He found himself standing on the accelerator too hard and nearly tailgating Mariana’s truck. Easing off, he tried to reset his calm. Maybe he could help resolve everything with the Hanley Group using only some accurately placed language. The chances of that dwindled with each escalation from the goons.
And here they came again. The sedan that had parked threateningly on this road the night before now barreled down toward Ty and Mariana from a side street on their right. Did she see them? They were coming on fast, not letting up. Ty pounded on his horn and sped to get up behind her. She looked at him in her rearview and he pointed toward the oncoming black car.
He saw her shoulders tense as she gripped her steering wheel. Her truck pulled forward faster. But it was still right in line with getting T-boned by however many goons were behind the tinted windows.
The sedan bounced over a rut, kicked up a cloud of dust and blasted toward Mariana. She accelerated as Ty hit his brakes. The goons’ car skidded sideways between them. Its tires caught and the car bolted forward, not far behind Mariana.
For a split second Ty considered drawing his pistol and trying to take out the attackers. Shooting left-handed out of a moving car was a terrible idea, though, and Mariana would be in the line of fire. He hit the gas and brought his bumper to the rear of the sedan. They tapped their brakes and bumped back into him. The impact jarred his car and rattled his bones. He struggled with the steering wheel to keep on the road.
On each side of the blacktop was a deep irrigation shoulder, then farm fences of steel and wood. Trees sped past. If he slammed into any of them, it would be over. Mariana continued to race up the road, but her truck seemed to have topped out and the sedan grew closer. She fishtailed slightly. It wouldn’t take much for them to knock her off the road.
Ty stood on his accelerator. His jaw clenched, muscles of his arms and chest tight, as if he could will his car faster. The sedan reached Mariana and edged to one corner of her rear. They were going to try to throw her into a spinout. At this speed she’d roll and...
He couldn’t consider it. He had to stop them.
While they were lining themselves up on Mariana, he neared their bumper. Any miscalculation could push them harder into her. The only time was now. He pulled the wheel to one side and clipped the rear side of the sedan. Tires screamed and the car jerked with the impact.
They lost speed and Mariana gained ground ahead of them. But the sedan remained on the road. As it straightened itself, the rear fender slammed into the front side of Ty’s car. He steered into the impact and the cars ground together with the sound of crumpling metal.
He pulled away from them for a second, gained traction and speed, then slammed into the sedan again. This time he dented the rear passenger door. They nudged hard against him, and his car neared the steep shoulder on the right of the road.
But he was far enough alongside them for him to pull his pistol without endangering Mariana. Awkwardly, with his left hand, he drew the gun while steering for his life with his right hand. Even one shot would change how this whole mission played out, but these bastards would not quit until someone was dead.
Ty extended the gun out the window. The sedan immediately reacted by swerving away. He fired. The glass of the rear passenger door blew out and scattered. He saw no one sat in the back of the car. The sedan hit its brakes and sent a plume of black smoke into the air. It swung hard to one side, clipping the rear corner of Ty’s car.
The world spun around Ty. He tossed his pistol on the passenger seat and used both hands to right the car as it careened sideways down the road. The rear end continued to swing out. Soon he was dragged backward into one of the drainage ditches. Gravel sprayed all around.
His car finally came to a stop. He’d managed to keep from flipping, but was still parked facing up a steep angle. When the dust cleared away, he could see only a flash of the black sedan speeding away. Mariana’s truck slammed to a stop at the top of the ditch and she leaped out.
“Ty! Ty!” Her face was drawn tight in fear.
He shouldered his door open and stepped out. “I’m good.” Though the ground didn’t feel very stable. “You good?”
“Fine.” She had to walk sideways down the steep bank.
He laughed at her response. “I’m fine, too.”
At least she was able to smile. “That sucked.”
“Hell, yeah.” He retrieved his pistol and holstered it.
“Did you shoot them?” She squinted down the road in the direction they’d disappeared.
“There was no one in the back seat.” The sedan was long gone. He eyed the angle of his car. Calling a tow truck would mean more attention from the local cops and his captain. “Sent a definite message, though.”
Mariana was also looking over his car’s predicament. “I have tow straps in the truck. Should be able to get you out of this.”
“Thanks.” He tried to shake out the adrenaline that bounced through him. “Bastards will scrap the car, and they didn’t have license plates.” But it wouldn’t be too hard to find them because he knew they’d be back.
Mariana started back up toward her truck. “Once we get you hooked up, I’ll need you behind the wheel.”
He waved his understanding and kicked a rock out of frustration. It skipped along the drainage ditch, punctuated by puffs of dust. Sweat made his shirt cling to his back. The day was warm, the sun bright, but the real fire was in his chest. Anger choked him. Those bastards had called all the shots. He had yet to take the fight to them.
Mariana secured two broad yellow tow straps to the hitch of her truck, then descended the hill to him. They tied the straps to the front frame of his car. Not the most professional rig, but it should do the job. He hoped.
“This part of the road’s all yours, right?” He couldn’t remember if they’d passed the fence that marked her land.
“Yeah, we’re on the private property, so no one official needs to be looking in.” She dusted her hands on her jeans and started up the hill. “I’ll probably have to field a couple curious emails from neighbors, though.”
He prepared to get back in his car. “Just tell them you’re practicing for a demolition derby.”
She stood at the top of the rise, hands on her hips, sunlight revealing an iridescent deep blue within her hair. “I’ll tell them a rogue cop showed up and won’t stop saving my life.”
Neither of them moved. For a second, it was only the two of them. No fires or threats or gunshots. The twenty feet that separated them hummed with a connection. Magnetism that could pull him into the air toward her. And if he could meet her, feel her in his arms, without gravity. Or danger. Just him and her, breathing each other in.
But the world around them was far too real. He climbed into his car and she walked to her truck. Both of their engines revved high. She tugged, her truck straining to keep from being pulled down into the ditch. His tires struggled to catch and sprayed dirt out behind him. After six feet of sliding sideways, his car gripped the earth and lurched forward. Mariana’s truck added more muscle to his efforts. He drove a
long the side of the ditch for a few yards, then angled all the way onto the blacktop.
Both vehicles stopped to undo the tow straps, which Mariana just tossed in the bed of her truck. They stayed free from drama on the rest of the drive to her farmhouse. He parked next to her truck and they were quickly greeted by Toro. The dog circled Mariana, tail wagging. She stroked over his head and scratched behind his ears. The dog grinned.
She held out her hand. It trembled. “How do you do it?” Her voice was still shaken.
“Give yourself credit.” He extended his palm to her. Tentatively, she reached forward and placed her hand in his. The tremors calmed. His skin hummed where she touched him. “You’ve been doing it. You’re surviving under their pressure.”
Her gaze warmed on him. She blinked slow with a thanks and removed her hand. “Tequila?”
“I’ll keep it corked.” Instead of heading to the house, he started to walk around the back of it. “Gotta stay sharp now that they’re coming on hard.” Her footsteps followed, along with Toro. Ty waited for her to catch up. “Have they called before?”
“No.” She picked up a slim branch and used it to point the way to a path in the orchard behind the house. “And they hadn’t tried to run me off the road.”
“They’re threatened.” Shade from the trees cut the afternoon heat. Walking the incline woke up his legs and let him burn off some of the residual tension from the car chase. “We fought back and they’re dialing it up to the next level.”
“How far will it go?” She tapped the stick against a row of apples on a low branch. One of them caught her eye and she stopped to pick it. The shaking leaves released a dry green aroma. She tossed the apple to Ty and pulled one for herself.
It was the realest apple he’d ever held. Skin smooth in some parts, rough in others. Warm from the sun. Like it was still beating with the life of the tree. “It’ll go all the way.” Hiding this truth would only make it more dangerous for her.
They resumed walking through the orchard and up the hill behind the house. He scanned for hiding places and where the clearest approaches were. The trees wouldn’t completely obscure someone. An attacker would have to use the shed up and to the left. A portion of old broken fence would slow someone’s progress if they were avoiding the path on the right.
If they were on a horse, though, they could step right over it. Being that tall would be impossible within the trees. Outstretched branches would brush a rider off. This fight, if it ever came, would be on foot.
Sunlight splashed against his face again. He walked higher, out of the orchard and onto harder dirt. Low grass struggled in places, while scrub held firm, and oaks farther away seemed like they’d always been rooted into this ground.
Mariana pulled ahead of him on a sharp bend of the path. Her body moved fluidly, shoulders and hips tilting with the climb. He had a moment to investigate more of that deep blue he’d seen in her hair. Dusk right before the dark. How would those thick strands feel through his fingers? Warm on the surface from the sun. Cooler underneath? Or the skin of her neck would bring its own heat.
She stopped on the crest of the ridge and took a bite out of her apple. Toro sat so he leaned against her leg. Ty reached her and saw the continuation of rolling hills she stared out at. A few miles away, higher mountains rose up. The low sun cut them into hard planes of bright and dark. “There’s the fire road.” She pointed, holding the apple with her teeth marks in it.
He followed the cut in the low hills as it wound through golden grass and stands of oak. A dry creek bisected the road in a couple of places to expose large rocks. “That fence is the edge of your property?” It was simple metal and wire, stretched just after the bottom of the hill they stood on.
“Yeah.” She drew over the landscape with her finger. “After that are three huge parcels the Hanley Group bought up. I found it in the public record after the harassment started. None of that is zoned for development, but my land is. They’ve already invested millions and can’t do a thing unless they force me out.”
The assault he’d imagined earlier materialized again. There wasn’t much cover once the fire road arced up the hill. After they reached the top, though, it wouldn’t take long to dive into the confusion of the orchard. The hill was too steep on the left and right. Any approach would come right where he was standing.
Ty bit into the apple. Sweet and tart, with that hint of salt he’d tasted the night before. The fruit was Mariana’s work, her life. It was his purpose, too. His ancestor would’ve stood on this same ridge, assessing the landscape. The silver of the Pacific would’ve burned white with the falling sun on his left, the same way it did for Ty. They both wore a gun. They both knew loss and knew justice wasn’t easy to come by.
There was so much that Ty didn’t know about that man’s story. As determined as he felt, his own path wasn’t completely clear. Each time Mariana’s presence warmed him, the complications became unreadable.
She finished her apple and tossed it down the hill. It rolled and bounced on the steep slope. Ty imagined men on horses, bandannas obscuring their faces, thundering up. Guns drawn. He could tell her things about her property that even she didn’t know. But he couldn’t, not with everything else weighing on her.
“I can’t let them take this.” She shook her head and straightened her shoulders.
“They won’t.” Was that the same promise his ancestor had made?
She started walking down toward the orchard again. Toro ran ahead. “We’re not the top.” Her voice was distant. Her gaze swept over the trees ahead of her. “We’re participants.”
Growing up in the thick of the city and seeing what he had as a cop had opened his eyes to many things. Good and bad. Her perception of the world around them awed him. He investigated details. She conversed.
They again passed through the orchard, where she collected a leaf and rubbed it between her fingers. Another conversation. The sun continued to sink, drawing the shadows out across the path. For a moment, her farmhouse looked like a black-and-white photo, like the ones she’d had on the walls of her shop. But an addition on the back of the house he hadn’t noticed broke up the old lines. It looked like it couldn’t be more than fifty years old.
“Is that room only accessible from outside?” Someone could use the roof to climb into a second-story window.
“There’s a door to it in the kitchen. The room is just storage, mostly stuff for my store.”
“No flammables?” If an attack came over the back ridge, this addition would be easily hit.
“I keep those in a fireproof cabinet in the barn.” She pointed with her thumb at the low barn a hundred yards from the house. New concerns darkened in her eyes. He knew she was assessing the dangers he sought to minimize.
Everything was flammable now. It could go up any second, taking her land or her life. The men threatening her were more volatile than ever. “We’ll hold the high ground,” he reassured her. He’d fired the first shot. He had to be ready to fire the last.
Chapter Seven
The quiet with Ty continued to warm deep into her. Usually when she walked her land with someone, the talk flowed like the constant breezes over the hills. Sydney would vent about small business ownership, or gush about the view from the high vantage. When Pete used to come up there, he’d muse about building a little cabin as a man cave and base of operations for his mountain bike. Ty had watched. Absorbed. She’d felt his gaze on her, sweeping across her orchard and the hills beyond.
Some of it was tactical. The most recent attack meant more were coming. But she also felt in Ty an appreciation for the surroundings. He was listening, the way she did when new weather was coming in. The same way he listened when she was talking. Not just waiting for her to finish, but absorbing and learning.
They walked around the house. He continued his assessment and she had a moment to see all the things that needed fi
xing. A gutter or two sagged. Parts of the roof could use extra shingles. Yes, the top sill of the guest room window hung at an angle, with a wedge of space above it. It grew overwhelming. Her shop was in ruins and might not ever come back. Her fruit was unpicked. Even if there was time to fix all these things, there was no money.
The high ground. Ty’s potent silences made the words ring out in stronger echoes. She and Ty stood at the front of the house. Her road wound away from them, past the spot of the attack and into the distance. The air chilled. Fog began to sweep in from the coast. Trees diffused into folktale creatures and the contours of the hills blurred. “I’m in this fight with you.” The mist turned her commitment into a whisper.
He took a step closer to her, and they stood shoulder to shoulder. “They’re going to be sorry they ever came at you.”
The sky darkened to a deep blue. She wished she had the rifle in her hands again. “No fear, right?”
“Fear’s all right.” He looked from the land below to back at her house. “Keeps us alert and safe. Panic, though, is a killer.”
“So we plan.” Each step was unclear, but she was learning that there was no one else with whom she’d rather be working out this deadly puzzle.
“I’ve looked at the approaches, have some ideas about limiting an attacker’s movement out there.” He nodded back toward the upper orchard. “We’ll keep assessing the main road.” Now his voice took on more emotion. “And tomorrow we’ll get up close with the Hanley Group.”
“Then we have to work on the second most important part of a tactical plan.” She patted her leg and Toro sped up to her side.
Ty cocked his head. “What’s that?”
“Dinner.” She and Toro turned toward the house. “Nearly getting run off the road burned through my lunch.”
“Danger is a great workout.” Ty flexed his shoulders. She took advantage of the opportunity to look at how he formed a broad V, ending in a well-formed butt and muscular legs. “How do you think I stay in shape?”
