Cowboy On Her Doorstep (Montgomery Brothers Book 1)

by Pam Mantovani

  “I don’t know why you insist that we go in the back door. If I ask my father, he will let us inside.”

  “I don’t want you to ask your father. I want to get inside without him knowing I was here. I told you that.”

  That’s when Kendall saw the sun glint off the gun Lloyd held. She considered her options. She could slip away, call for backup, but she also worried she’d lose whatever small advantage she now had if Lloyd and Robbie entered the building while she waited for reinforcements.

  “Give me the damn key,” Lloyd said. “I’ll do it myself.”

  “No, you cannot. The key belongs to my father.”

  Lloyd cuffed Robbie on the shoulder and pushed him aside, ending any hesitation on Kendall’s part.

  She drew her gun, took a deep breath, and pivoted. “Hold it right there, Lloyd.”

  Everything blurred. Lloyd swung Robbie around, using the young boy as a shield. “Back off, or I’ll shoot him,” Lloyd said, even as he pointed the gun at her.

  “Put the gun down, Lloyd.”

  Robbie lifted his hands to his ears, as always upset and frightened by yelling.

  “Officer Grant,” Lloyd said, taking a step in retreat. “You have a habit of coming around during a misunderstanding.”

  Robbie continued to scrunch his head down onto his shoulders, his hands still covering his ears.

  “Oh, I think I have a clear picture of what was about to happen here.”

  Lloyd narrowed his gaze at her. “I’m sure I can make that picture a little clearer if you’d just give me a chance.”

  “I don’t want your chance, just for you to place your gun on the ground.”

  “I can offer you so much more than you have, Officer Grant. Enough to give that little girl of yours the pony she wants.”

  Kendall’s heart stopped dead in her chest. That Lloyd Miller knew about Marissa’s recent fascination with horses frightened her more than the gun he pointed at her. “Surrender your gun, Miller,” she said, hoping he didn’t hear the nerves in her command. She chanced one quick glance and felt reassured by her own steady aim.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Don’t make me ask you twice.”

  “Are you sure, Officer Grant?” Miller repeated. He trailed the muzzle of his gun down Robbie’s neck. “I think I have the upper hand after all.” He smiled. “But then I do try to make sure I always do.”

  “Not this time.” Kendall’s mouth was dry, but she didn’t convey nerves by pausing to draw in a breath. “There’s no way you’re going to escape. If you think you can turn your gun toward me, I’ll have time to either move out of the way or fire before you.”

  “You have a valid point.” He sighed, a bit dramatically, she thought. “As a citizen of this town I should be happy with your strong sense of right and wrong along with the kind of character that doesn’t back down. Instead, I think I’ll use your nobility for my own purpose.”

  “What do you mean?” Kendall asked, suspicious but not willing to risk making a move.

  “Given a difficult choice,” Lloyd answered. “I’m betting you’ll choose friendship over duty.” He looked at Robbie, nudged him to the side a little. Robbie stumbled as a result of the unexpected push. “It was a good arrangement while it lasted.”

  Kendall felt some of her nerves settle when Lloyd took another small step in retreat. Then her entire body stiffened in shock as he fired the gun. She saw Robbie’s body jerk with the impact of the bullet hitting him in the stomach, saw the blood bloom on his shirt an instant before he cried out and crumpled to the ground.

  “Oh, God. No.” Kendall ran, barely noting that Lloyd disappeared down the alley. Grappling for the unit on her shoulder, she shouted out codes to Dispatch.

  Reaching Robbie, she tore off her shirt, using it to apply pressure to the wound.

  “It’s okay, Robbie,” she soothed in as soft a voice as she could manage. He tried to roll away from where she pressed the shirt to his stomach. “No, don’t move, Robbie. Don’t move.”

  “Hurts.”

  “I know, sweetie. I’m sorry, but you need to be still.” Hurry, hurry, hurry, her mind screamed. “I’m going to stay with you until someone gets here to take you to the hospital.”

  “Why?” he asked her, his eyes confused and clouded. “Why did my friend Lloyd do this?”

  “He was mad at me,” she said, trying to keep pressure on the bleeding wound and yet lift a hand to stroke it over his hair the way she tended to do when Marissa was upset. She stopped short when she saw the blood smeared on her fingers. “He was mad at me, Robbie. It’s not your fault.”

  She continued to try and calm him, keep him still. She told herself it was simple reaction and not anything worse when Robbie’s teeth began to chatter. When backup finally arrived, she had little choice but to ease away and let others take over. Sitting with her elbows propped on bent knees and her head cradled in her hands, she struggled to gain control.

  LOGAN STRODE into the emergency room, blinking against the harsh glare of the bright lights. Sweat might have all but poured down his back, but his blood ran cold, had been cold ever since he heard the news that Kendall had been involved in a shooting.

  Shots fired. Injuries. Hospital.

  Somehow, he’d managed to avoid the whispering crowd and deliver an unsuspecting Marissa into Audra’s care. Now he scanned the lobby, saw the small cluster of officers waiting, holding vigil. Logan stood, suddenly frozen and afraid. He recalled being in this same hospital when they learned his mother was sick, dying. He remembered standing in field hospitals, struggling against the pointless anger of learning friends had been lost or had suffered wounds that would forever change lives.

  He didn’t know what he would find once he located Kendall, wasn’t sure he could handle whatever he discovered. And yet he had to know, had to have faith that she was strong and unharmed. He had to believe that he would not lose another person who was important to him.

  He walked over to the central desk. “Kendall Grant?” he asked the woman sitting behind a computer screen.

  “Is in an exam room. Have a seat and I’ll . . .” She trailed off when Logan leaned over the counter. Her gaze flicked over to the group of officers then back to Logan.

  “I’m her family,” he lied without hesitation. “Where is she?”

  “Down this corridor.” She pointed to her right. “Fourth curtain on the right.”

  With a nod, he turned and made his way down the corridor. When he pulled back the curtain, he discovered Kendall sitting on the exam table, her attention focused on Sheriff Owens standing before her. She wore a snug, black tank with her uniform pants, and her legs, hanging over the edge of the table, were crossed at the ankle. She looked tiny and fragile, her eyes wide with the kind of hollow look he’d seen on soldiers returning from a prolonged and deadly field mission. The lack of color on her face blended perfectly with the white wall behind her.

  She nodded without comment at something Sheriff Owens said. The Sheriff held an evidence bag containing Kendall’s uniform shirt. Finally she noticed him.

  “Marissa?” Her hand rose to press a fist at her chest. “I can’t.” She worked to level her breathing. “I can’t let her see me like this.”

  Logan stepped further into the room. “She’s at home with Audra. She doesn’t know what happened.”

  Kendall sagged with relief at his explanation. “Are you hurt?” Logan asked, keeping his gaze on her, wishing she’d say she needed him, waiting for her to reach for him, hoping she’d ask him to do something, anything.

  “It’s Robbie,” she answered. Her voice wobbled, her lips trembled. Tears blurred her brown eyes, but somehow she kept them from spilling down her cheek. “Lloyd Miller shot him.”

  “Listen, Logan,” Sheriff Owens said. “I need to go over
some details with Kendall . . .”

  “Don’t even think of asking me to leave.” Logan looked at Kendall.

  “It’s okay if Logan stays, Sheriff.” She waited until the Sheriff turned back to her. “I overheard Lloyd tell Robbie to give him the key to the drug store. I believed I’d come across an attempted burglary.”

  “Did you call for backup?”

  “No, sir, I thought it best to wait and observe first. However, when I saw the glint of Lloyd’s gun, I announced myself. At first Lloyd used Robbie as a shield.”

  “So you believed Robbie Patterson was in danger?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Sheriff Owens looked up from where he’d been taking notes on a small spiral pad. “Is that when Miller shot Robbie Patterson?”

  “No.” She swallowed. “I instructed Lloyd to lower his gun. That’s when he offered me a bribe.” She looked at Logan, and he felt something tighten in his chest. “He mentioned Marissa.”

  “He threatened your daughter?”

  “He suggested that he could buy her the pony she’s been asking for.” She pressed her lips together a moment. “I repeated my order that he drop his gun. When he stepped away from Robbie, I believed he was going to surrender. Instead . . .” A sob escaped, but still no tears fell. “Instead, he took another step back and shot Robbie in the stomach.” Her gaze pleaded with the Sheriff. “I had to go to Robbie, to try and help him. I didn’t chase after Lloyd. He knew that’s what I’d do, he taunted me with it right before he shot Robbie. That’s how he managed to escape.”

  “You did right. I have no issue with the decision you made.” He closed the spiral pad. “We’ve issued alerts for Miller, and we’re in the processing of securing a warrant to search his office at The Pit.”

  “You’re not going to find anything incriminating,” Kendall said. “Lloyd’s not that careless.”

  “I agree, but we’ll check it out anyway.”

  “Maybe one of his employees can give you something useful.”

  “I’ll handle it, Kendall,” Sheriff Owens said. “Where are you going to stay tonight?”

  “Tonight?” she repeated, her brows puckering with the question. “Home.”

  “Are you sure? Kendall, I hate to bring this up now, but don’t you remember what it was like after your mother was shot? Your nightmares? Do you really want to risk Marissa hearing you if you have some during the next couple of days?”

  Tears filled her eyes, and her bottom lip trembled before she used her top teeth to stop it. “No,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

  “She can come out to my ranch,” Logan offered.

  Sheriff Owens glanced at him for several long seconds, and then turned back to Kendall. “That’s not a bad idea. It might be good for you to stay out of sight for a couple of days while we search for Miller.”

  Kendall lost even more color in her cheeks. “Marissa.”

  “I’ll arrange around the clock shifts to keep an eye on your house. I’ll make sure your little girl and your friend are protected.”

  “Audra’s not comfortable with strangers.”

  “I know.” Owens placed a hand over hers. “I promise you nothing will happen to either one of them.”

  Kendall swallowed, nodded, and then looked at Logan. “Shouldn’t you check with Carter first?”

  “Are you kidding? Carter would probably kick my butt if I didn’t bring you out to the ranch. Besides, he goes to bed and rises with the chickens, so we won’t be disturbing him.”

  She stared at him a moment longer before turning back to the Sheriff. “Okay.”

  Owens gestured to the plastic evidence bag on a chair. On top of the bag was Kendall’s gun. “You know we have to go through the formality of testing your gun.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “You’re off duty until we’ve cleared you. Kendall,” Sheriff Owens continued. He placed a hand over the ones she’d linked together on her lap. “You know this is procedure. In no way do I think you’re at fault here.”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “If you need anything, if you want to talk, you call me. At any time.”

  “Keep my baby safe.”

  “I will.” He turned and gathered up the items from the chair. “I’ll be in touch.” With a nod for Logan, Sheriff Owens left the room.

  Kendall’s eyes closed for a second. “I’m not a cop.”

  Logan walked to her, drew her into his embrace. Her arms trembled as she wrapped her arms around his waist. She held on tight, and it felt as if she’d reached inside him and squeezed his heart.

  “You heard him, it’s just procedure.” He pressed his lips to her forehead.

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  “All you have to do is come home with me.”

  She sighed, and in contrast to what she’d just told the Sheriff, Logan thought she would refuse. “All right.” She leaned back and looked at him. “First, though, I want to go upstairs and check on Robbie.”

  It was the look that did it, the look that pleaded for him to understand, to accept this was something she had to do. The look on her face showed a strength that had been missing since he’d arrived at the hospital. He nodded. “I’m right here with you as long as you want me to be.”

  As they passed the waiting room, Logan saw the cops had left, no doubt dismissed by Sheriff Owens. In silence, he and Kendall rode the elevator, got off, and walked the hallway to another waiting room.

  Frank Patterson sat with his head bowed, his hands gripped tightly together.

  Kendall paused in the doorway, but before Logan could place a hand on the small of her back in support, she stepped into the room.

  Patterson’s head jerked up, his eyes conveying hope an instant before they turned dark with resentment. “You.” He rose on trembling legs. “What are you doing here?”

  “Mr. Patterson,” Kendall began. “I came to check on Robbie.”

  “They won’t tell me anything.” At his sides, his hands closed into tight fists. “I thought it was your job to protect him. But I was told that you just stood there.”

  Kendall staggered. “Mr. Patterson, you know I’d never do anything to hurt Robbie. He’s a friend.”

  “Some friend you are. You want me to believe that you care about my boy, but you didn’t help him when you had the chance. Why didn’t you shoot that man before he could shoot my boy?” Patterson advanced toward Kendall.

  He stopped only when a nurse came running into the room. “Mr. Patterson, please, there are patients.”

  “How could you just stand there and let him get hurt?”

  “C’mon,” Logan said as he stepped up and wrapped a hand around Kendall’s shoulders to guide her out of the room. “Let’s go home.”

  She remained silent as they made their way to his truck, as he drove them to the ranch. She stared out the windshield when he parked and cut the engine. “I miss my baby.”

  Logan started to speak, to remind her that she’d been the one to say she didn’t want Marissa to see her like this. Kendall shifted to face him. Tears ran unchecked down her cheeks.

  “I know I can’t, that I shouldn’t see Marissa when I’m like this, but it’s what I want. I want to hold her. I want her to hold me. I want to feel her squirming in my arms and breathe in her strawberry scent and get impatient with her endless questions.” She shuddered out a breath. Her eyes were glazed, devoid of any and all hope.

  “Why do I always want what I can’t have?” she asked.

  The question hung heavy in the cab of the truck for several long seconds before Logan pushed his seat belt, then hers. He wasn’t sure if his actions would be accepted or rejected. He only knew he had to do something.

  When she wrapped her arms around him without prote
st he knew he’d made the right decision.

  “Not much I can do about the shampoo scent,” he began. “But I can elbow you in the ribs and ask a dozen questions if it’ll help.”

  She laughed. Granted, it was hesitant and soft. But it came as her arms tightened around him, as she nuzzled her cheek on the broad expanse of his chest.

  “What if,” she whispered, “I said I wanted you?”

  An irrational yet urgent anger had him jerking out of her arms.

  “Logan?”

  He threw open the door, slammed it with enough force to rock the truck. With his head bent, he drew in several breaths that did nothing to rein in his hunger. Needing a release, he reached down and picked up several stones and began heaving them, one by one, down the driveway.

  “Logan?”

  He spun, grateful that Kendall stood on the other side of the truck hood. “I’m sorry, I—”

  “Who,” he interrupted, “gave you permission to make all the decisions? To have all the control?” He wanted to go to her, shake her. Hold her. Kiss her. He had enough sense to know that if he touched her now he’d take her right here on the ground.

  Instead, he lifted a hand to point a finger as emphasis for each point. Realized he trembled. “You’re the one who decided we should make love the first time. You’re the one who decided against telling me about Marissa. You’re the one who decided we wouldn’t tell her that I’m her father. Now you’ve decided you want to make love again. God knows I want to be with you. But this time, I won’t let you use me to escape reality like you did all those years ago.”

  She sucked in a shocked breath.

  He stormed around the truck hood, stopped in front of her. Her eyes were wide, her breathing came in short spurts, as if she’d just run a race. Or been in his arms, in his bed. Instead, he remembered where she’d been today, what she’d been through.

  “When I make love to you again,” he began, his voice gentle now. How could he hold onto anger when he wanted the very thing she asked of him? “It’s not going to be because you need to forget something or someone who’s hurt you.” He took a step closer because he saw that while her eyes were still wide, they had lost that wounded look.