Perfect Wyoming Complete Collection: Special Agent's Perfect Cover ; Rancher's Perfect Baby Rescue ; A Daughter's Perfect Secret ; Lawman's Perfect Surrender ; The Perfect Outsider ; Mercenary's Perfect Mission

by Marie Ferrarella

  Nathan shook his head again, but this time it was to say, “I told you so.” “I’m leaving. Get out of my way.”

  “Wait.” His father put a hand on his shoulder. “At least be smart enough to take me with you. I get your point about a posse of men storming the town. That would only cause more trouble. But I can’t sit here on the ranch worrying over your welfare.”

  He pulled a .45 out of his jacket. “I’m armed, too. Let me help, son.”

  “Get in the truck.” Nathan didn’t want to think too much about the things his father had said. But he knew he would—after he had Susannah safely back at the ranch.

  A couple of minutes later, they were on the road. “Did you hear the whole story of what happened to Susannah?” he asked his father.

  “Why don’t you tell me what you know?”

  He could hardly stand for his father being so reasonable. What had caused this huge change in the man?

  Later… This was not the time.

  “It seems some of those bastard Devotees sneaked onto the ranch right at quitting time last night. I didn’t realize it then, but apparently Susannah was still in the horse barn alone. A hand said she told him she would walk back to the house with one of us.”

  “Quitting time? Around the same time when you and I were talking outside the office?”

  “Arguing, you mean? Yeah, I’m thinking that was the same time.”

  Downshifting, Nathan tried not to let what he was saying blind him to his driving. “Apparently the Devotees managed to overtake her without either of us hearing a thing.”

  His father fisted his hands in his lap. “We weren’t whispering.”

  “No. We never do.”

  “Things will change between us from now on.” His father exhaled and looked down at his hands.

  “Why?” Had he really said that aloud? Well, in for a penny… “Why will things change? What’s different, Dad?”

  “Don’t you know? Are you really so blind? Susannah’s what’s changed. She’s made a big difference—with all of us.”

  Nathan knew he felt different around her. But was that a permanent change of some sort? And what did his father mean when he said “all of us”?

  “How, Dad? How did she change things for you?”

  His father cleared his throat. “Well, now, I guess that’s hard to pinpoint exactly. But she’s a very special woman. After just a few minutes of talking to her, I found myself spilling my guts. Said things to that girl I hadn’t even said to myself. Should’ve, though. Should’ve said some of those things to you, too.”

  “Like what?” His own voice sounded so raspy, he could barely hear himself talk.

  “Like how when your mama died, I blamed myself for not being there for her when she got sick. Or how I’d let my father-in-law run me around half the countryside doing errands for the ranch and neglecting my ailing wife. After she passed away, I told him what I thought of him and his damned ranch. Bastard cut me out of his will and left everything to your brother.”

  What? That couldn’t be. “I always thought he didn’t leave you anything because you didn’t love the land. At least not like Grandpa and I did.”

  “Think about it a moment. Your grandfather knew how much you loved the ranch, Nathan. So why didn’t he leave the whole place to you? ’Cause he was a vindictive schemer, that’s why. He didn’t want me to have control, so he left it to the one person who couldn’t have cared less. The one person you wouldn’t fight.”

  His father took a breath but kept talking. “The old man knew damned well I couldn’t let the ranch go to hell. Knew I would hang around for the rest of my life and run the place, though it will never legally be mine.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Grandpa.” Truthfully, it sounded more like something an evil person like Samuel Grayson would do.

  “You never really knew him, son. He only let you see one side.”

  Nathan drove on quietly for a few minutes, not sure of how to take what he’d just learned.

  “But then you do care about the land?” He felt a little like a twelve-year-old, begging for attention from a father who was so obsessed in his own grief that he couldn’t be bothered with either his youngest son or the ranch he loved.

  “When I married your mama, I knew I was marrying her family’s land, too. She loved this place and wouldn’t ever have wanted to be anywhere else. And I loved her. That we were going to live and work this ranch was a given. The surprise came when her old man wouldn’t give up an inch. He constantly tested me, seeing just how much crap I would take to prove I cared about the family’s land.”

  His father stared out the window at the miles of range and woods passing by the window. “I put up with him for her sake at first and then for yours. After my beloved Sallie passed away, I wished I had gone, too. Nothing interested me. I’m afraid you were a casualty of that time, son. Your grandfather used you against me, somehow in his mind getting even with me because she had died and I lived. I can’t tell you how much I regret that now.”

  The lump in Nathan’s throat threatened to choke him. He needed time to process all of this. When he’d freed Susannah from the Devotees, he would take some time to consider everything he’d learned today.

  After a long silence, his father asked, “Do you love her?”

  He couldn’t pretend not to know who his old man was referring to. “I don’t know.” But that was a lie. “Maybe I do love her. But she will never be safe on the ranch as long as Samuel Grayson and his Devotees are right next door in Cold Plains.”

  “What do you intend to do about that?”

  “What can I do? She and Melody will have to go away, someplace so far that Samuel Grayson will never be able to get his evil hands on either one of them.”

  His father opened his mouth as if to say something more. Then he closed it again and turned his head to look out the windshield as the outskirts of Cold Plains came into view.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Nathan saw the older man fingering the .45 stuck in his waistband. Damn. Why hadn’t he thought about his father being hurt before he’d started out?

  It was too late now for regrets and recriminations. He would just have to be smarter and quicker than any of Samuel Grayson’s Devotees and henchmen.

  No one could get hurt today. He refused to allow it—not his father and certainly not Susannah.

  He loved her. Now that he’d finally admitted it to himself, he had to make sure she lived long enough to admit it to her, too.

  * * *

  The minutes were ticking by for Susannah as she kept inching around, staying in the shade of the store’s awning and out of the direct sunlight. After Jonathan had made his phone call, he’d disappeared back inside the community center.

  Everything was peaceful as the sun began to rise in the sky. In another twenty minutes, the streets would be full of people—Devotees and locals alike all going to work or to shop.

  She’d been racking her brain for some kind of answers. But she still hadn’t come up with a decent reason for what she’d seen Jonathan doing.

  Was he a mechanic in his spare time? She’d thought long and hard and had finally remembered that the car he’d been under belonged to the mayor. Had he agreed to fix the mayor’s car?

  Hadn’t he said he was currently the vice-mayor? Perhaps he’d agreed to fix his boss’s car during the meeting.

  That didn’t sound like Jonathan. For a Devotee, he seemed much too self-absorbed to be doing favors for anyone.

  What else had he said while he was bragging about himself last night?

  It was something about moving up. But the only place up from vice-mayor was the mayor’s job.

  Suddenly something she’d remembered from an old TV show came to mind. She hadn’t watched TV since s
he’d come to Cold Plains. But before, when she’d been stuck in crummy motel rooms waiting for Melody’s father to finish his dirty “businesses,” she’d had nothing to do but watch old reruns and movies on TV.

  On several of the old cop shows, the bad guys would blow up a car in order to get rid of their enemies or rivals. Was that what Jonathan had in mind?

  Her nerves started jumping. Oh, my goodness. As crazy as it might be, it almost sounded like a reasonable explanation for what she’d seen.

  Darn. What should she do? If she went to the police chief and told him this story and it turned out not to be true, she could be in even bigger trouble with the Devotees. Then they would know she didn’t believe and wasn’t a good little Devotee anymore.

  They might kill her right away.

  But she couldn’t let a nice man like the mayor be killed, could she? And she sure as heck didn’t know the first thing about car mechanics. She would only end up either discovered and outed as an imposter and liar—or blown up with the mayor.

  Neither one of those options sounded good to her.

  How about Ford McCall? Yes, she could probably go there for help. Nathan had been positive the lawman was not a Devotee. And she trusted Nathan’s opinion above all others.

  Oh, Nathan, what should I do?

  She would give anything to be able to ask for his advice. But Nathan wasn’t here.

  Thank heaven. He was safe at home with Melody and his family.

  This was all up to her.

  She had to find Ford. But where should she look? At the police office? His home? It was early yet.

  Darn. Darn. Darn. She couldn’t think fast enough.

  Just then, the community center’s side door opened once again, and Mayor Kittridge strolled out. He stopped, gazing around in every direction. He looked like a man who had done something wrong and didn’t want to be caught. Then he tried staying in the shadows of the building as though he didn’t want anyone to see him while he went to his car.

  Susannah’s feet started moving before her mind caught up. He didn’t know. She was sure of it.

  Pretty soon she was running full out, hoping against hope to head him off.

  “No! The car! Stay away from the car!”

  CHAPTER 13

  Running and screaming at the top of her lungs, Susannah prayed she’d make it there in time. Devotee or not, the mayor was a kind human being and didn’t deserve to die like this.

  “Stop!” she screamed. “Mayor Kittridge, turn around!”

  Sprinting faster than she figured was humanly possible, she kept going and passed the car, holding her breath. “Go back. The car…the car…”

  It took another minute or two to catch up to the mayor.

  “What’s the matter with you?” He gazed at her through narrowed, disbelieving eyes. “Do I know you? Stop that screaming.”

  Out of breath, she gasped for air and tried to explain. “Something is wrong with your car. Some…someone did something to it.”

  She grabbed him by the shirtsleeve. “Please, come away. Don’t go near it.”

  “Are you having a breakdown? You’re a Devotee, aren’t you? We mustn’t let ourselves become so out of control, dear. Remember…”

  “Now!” She began dragging him in the other direction.

  “Please,” he said as he jerked back on his arm and tried to stand his ground. “I have to leave. Someone is waiting for me. Don’t make me call the chief of police.”

  Using all her strength, she dragged him a few more feet. “No time to explain. Go ahead and call the police. From inside the center! Please just come with me.”

  “What on earth is wrong with you, young lady? I…”

  She dashed around behind him and gave him a big shove. The confused man was off balance and went to his knees.

  “That does it,” he yelled. “Stay away from…”

  The entire world suddenly crashed in around them, and Susannah got lost in the chaos—dark and black.

  * * *

  The explosion rocked Nathan’s pickup and shocked him enough to make him slow down. As soon as his ears stopped ringing, he looked over at his father.

  “You okay, Dad?”

  “I guess so. What the hell…?”

  Throwing the truck in Park, Nathan opened the door. “Can you handle driving? I’ll do better on foot. I’ve got to find Susannah.”

  “I can drive. You think she’ll be somewhere close to whatever that explosion was?” He nodded toward the column of thick black smoke rising to the sky about three blocks away.

  “Hope not. Only one way to find out.”

  “Good luck, son. I’ll drive the truck as close in to the trouble as possible and wait to hear from you.”

  Nathan took off, running flat out toward the smoke. Please don’t let that involve Susannah. Things in Cold Plains didn’t just blow up. Something bad had happened.

  The farther into the center of town he ran, the more he realized the smoke originated from somewhere near the community center. He couldn’t imagine any reason why Susannah would be anywhere close to the center. At least he prayed she wouldn’t.

  The Devotees hadn’t forced her to undergo some ritual, had they? If she was hurt, they would regret it.

  His heart pounded. His lungs screamed for air. His brain burned with horrible images.

  If Susannah died, he would see to it Samuel Grayson paid with his life. Nathan’s own life wouldn’t matter.

  As his feet beat against the sidewalk pavement, he found himself surrounded by more and more people. Everyone wanted to see what was going on.

  Darting out into the street, he figured dodging one or two cars would be a whole lot easier than the hordes of onlookers. But then a car honked behind him.

  “Hey! Watch out! Out of the way.” The voice came from the car.

  He turned and saw Ford McCall in his police cruiser, trying to drive toward the scene. Spinning, he grabbed hold of Ford’s passenger door handle and jumped into the front seat.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Nathan?”

  “Susannah—” That was the only word he could manage.

  Ford turned on his siren and concentrated on driving as fast as possible through the throngs of people. “You have any idea what happened?”

  Out of breath, Nathan shook his head.

  “But you think Susannah had something to do with it?”

  Wheezing past the dry throat, he answered, “She better not be anywhere near there.”

  “But you think she might be.” It wasn’t a question.

  Good thing, because Nathan still couldn’t utter a sound.

  As they turned a street corner, he spotted his worst nightmare straight ahead: a huge column of smoke coming from a burning car in the community center parking lot.

  “Holy hell.” Ford steered to the curb, threw his cruiser into Park and shut it down. “We’re on foot from here.”

  Before climbing out of his vehicle, Ford called in and asked for fire department assistance. Nathan was way ahead of him—dashing through the crowds, pushing, shoving, not bothering to excuse himself. He forced his way closer and closer.

  Finally at the ring of people nearest the blazing car, he drew in enough air to ask, “Was anyone in there when it went up?”

  “That’s the mayor’s car!” someone shouted.

  “Can’t tell if he was in the car from here,” another man called out.

  A siren sounded in the distance, but it was coming closer. He had to find Susannah. If she wasn’t in the car, was she being held inside the center?

  He backed away from the still-blazing car and all the people standing around it. Looking up at the center, he spotted a side door that no one se
emed to be guarding. If he could reach it, maybe he’d be able to slide inside for a look around the place.

  The crowds were swelling with onlookers, but he found a way to skirt the worst of them. He flattened himself to the bushes next to the wall of the center and tried to remain invisible behind the fog of smoke as he headed toward the side door.

  Before he was close enough to try the door handle, he spotted someone sitting on the sidewalk about ten feet from the door. And that someone was holding her head in her hands. When the smoke lifted some, he knew immediately it was Susannah.

  Thank God.

  Bending to one knee beside her, he asked, “Are you hurt? What can I do?”

  “Nathan? Oh, Nathan.”

  “I’m here. Is it bad?”

  “Mayor Kittridge. Help him.”

  “Huh?” Nathan looked around and found a pair of men’s shoes attached to legs and sticking out of a flower bed.

  He didn’t want to leave Susannah. “Is he dead?”

  “I don’t know. Jonathan Miller tried to kill him.”

  Reaching for his cell phone, Nathan straightened and went to check on the body while he waited to be put through to Ford. He bent beside the still, prone body of the mayor and checked his pulse. Thankfully, the man’s pulse was strong and steady.

  Ford came on the line. “McCall.”

  “I’m standing near the side entrance to the community center. The one closest to the parking lot. Mayor Kittridge has been injured. Susannah’s here but hurt.”

  “I’ll call the Cold Plains Urgent Care Clinic to send an ambulance and paramedics.”

  “I don’t want Devotees touching Susannah ever again.” He walked away from the mayor, satisfied the man’s breathing was easy, and went back to be with her. “She told me Jonathan Miller tried to kill the mayor.”

  “I just saw Miller in the crowd. He won’t get far.”

  “Susannah may be hurt bad. There’s a lot of blood.”

  “Take her to the new doc’s place. Doc Black. Corner of Success Avenue and Principle Lane.”

  “Where?”

  “Used to be Oak and Elm. In a converted 1930s bungalow. I’ll be there as soon as I can clear things up here. I need to question Susannah.”