by Carol Finch
The deadly expression on Jonah’s chiseled features indicated that he was mad as hell at her for getting herself into another scrape, and furious with Ward for using her as his defense.
“Drop your guns,” Ward demanded as he poked his pistol a little deeper into the underside of Maddie’s chin.
“I don’t think so,” Jonah snarled, his murderous green eyes boring holes into the rancher.
The comment flustered Ward momentarily and he pulled Maddie so tightly against him she found it difficult to breathe. Stalemate, she mused.
“She’s your wife, Danhill,” Ward mocked in that uppity British accent that was beginning to grate on Maddie’s frazzled nerves. “Drop your weapons or she loses her head because of you. Not that I give a bloody damn if her death is on your conscience. If, in fact, mongrel half-breeds like you even have a conscience.”
“Just shoot him,” Maddie demanded of Jonah and Boone. “He’s the one who had Avery and Clem murdered. He kidnapped Chrissy and held her captive in that tomb of a wine cellar!”
Jonah frowned, bemused. “I thought Avery kidnapped your sister.”
“You’ve been misinformed. I want this selfish bastard punished for the hell he put Chrissy through. He even tried to intimidate me into marrying him after he’d marked you and Boone for death. He intended to blackmail me into cooperating to spare Chrissy’s life!” Maddie stared Jonah squarely in the eye and said, “Just shoot him, even if you have to go through me to get to him. He deserves to die!”
“You’re insane,” Ward snorted, incredulous. His gaze bounced from Jonah to Boone, both of whom kept their six-shooters trained on him and Maddie.
Jonah decided Ward Tipton was right; Maddie had gone a little crazy. There was a wild, reckless gleam in her eyes that scared the bejeezus out of him. He sensed that she was about to do something rash—and he had no idea what in hell it was. His only clear shot was at the arm Ward had wrapped diagonally across Maddie’s chest. If Jonah missed his mark by mere inches he could hit Maddie. He stepped sideways, hoping to draw Ward’s attention and get a better angle for a shot that would spare her from injury.
Damn it, he’d been in some tough scrapes before, but he’d only had to worry about spilling his own blood. The thought of Maddie injured at his hand was enough to give him the shakes—which was the very last thing he needed right now.
“Just shoot him!” Maddie choked out impatiently.
Jonah nearly suffered heart seizure when she abruptly raised her knee and kicked backward like a mule, catching Ward in the shin. And suddenly all hell broke loose and years of experience and instinct took over. Although Maddie dived sideways to avoid the line of fire, the English dandy was so outraged by her maneuver that he took his fury out on her.
Jonah and Boone fired simultaneously, but Ward managed to get off a shot before he crumpled in a lifeless heap atop Maddie. Jonah thought he screamed her name as he rushed forward to shove Ward aside, but he couldn’t swear to it because his pulse was pounding so loudly in his ears that he wondered if he’d been struck deaf.
He sank to his knees, so shaken by the sight of the bloody wound on Maddie’s shoulder that he couldn’t think straight. He’d forgotten what disabling panic felt like. But he was sure this was it—this helpless sensation that swirled through him, paralyzing his reflexes and robbing him of strength. Feeling as if he was moving in slow motion, he tugged her body into his arms and tilted her ashen face to his with a trembling hand.
“Damn it, woman, are you out of your mind?” he yelled, his fear for her making him lose his tentative grasp on his temper.
A faint smile wobbled on her lips as she stared at him with unfocused amber eyes. “Did you get him?” she croaked.
“Got the son of a bitch,” Jonah confirmed, his voice quaking as badly as his body.
“Good.” She swallowed with noticeable effort, then said, “I love you….”
When her thick lashes drifted against her pallid cheeks and she slumped heavily against him Jonah hit another level of frenzied panic. He knew how to stem the flow of blood from a wound—or at least he used to know. But that was before Maddie intentionally got herself shot. Suddenly his mind went blank and, like a witless imbecile, he just stared at the spreading bloodstains.
After what seemed like minutes of indecisiveness Jonah’s survival skills finally kicked in and he tore off his shirt to use as a makeshift tourniquet for her arm. “Find some whiskey to cleanse the wound,” he barked at Boone, who was hovering over him. “There has to be some around here somewhere.”
Boone darted to the massive oak desk and rummaged through the drawers until he located an unopened bottle of wine that would serve as antiseptic. To Jonah’s dismay, Maddie didn’t rouse when he dribbled liquor over her shoulder. That was not a good sign.
“Let’s see how bad it is,” Boone insisted as he hunkered down beside Jonah.
“If she survives I’m gonna kill her for that daring stunt,” Jonah growled in frustration.
Boone peeled away the tattered sleeve to inspect the wound. “You’re in luck. She’ll live. Doesn’t look as if the bullet shattered the bone.” He glanced at Jonah. “You wanna go ahead and kill her now or shall we patch her up first?”
Jonah scowled darkly. “You are not amusing.”
“Maybe not, but you are.” Boone’s mouth quirked as he cleansed the wound. “Never saw you fall apart before. Now that’s amusing.”
“I am not falling apart!” Jonah bellowed.
“Right. My mistake. What was I thinking?” Boone shoved the wine bottle into Jonah’s free hand. “Here. You need a drink. Or three.”
Jonah chugged three swallows, but it didn’t take the edge off his shattered nerves. He was rattled, when he never got rattled. He was always cool under fire. Well, usually, he amended. Watching Maddie purposely draw gunfire was not a good example of how well he reacted in lethal situations.
“You need to calm down,” Boone advised as he wrapped a strip of Jonah’s shirt over her wound. “You’re starting to make me nervous.”
Jonah closed his eyes, inhaled a steadying breath and told himself that Mad Maddie Garret was going to live to see another day. They were going to have matching scars on their upper left arms, but that was better than the alternative.
The thought of a single scar marring her silken flesh tempted Jonah to grab his pistol and shoot Ward Tipton a few more times for good measure. That cocky bastard couldn’t end up fried to a crisp in hell fast enough to pacify Jonah.
“Want me to carry her outside while you pull yourself together?” Boone questioned.
“I’ve got it together.”
Boone frowned doubtfully. “If you say so.”
Jonah struggled to his feet and resituated Maddie’s motionless body in his arms. He couldn’t make himself release his possessive hold on her for even a second. Furthermore, he predicted the sight of her ashen face was going to haunt his nightmares for the next several weeks. He never again wanted to live through anything as terrifying as this showdown with Ward Tipton.
The incident had shot his nerves of steel to pieces. It would probably take him longer to recover from this harrowing encounter than it would for Maddie to recuperate from her injury.
“What in tarnation was she thinking?” Jonah muttered as he rode toward Bar G Ranch with Maddie cuddled protectively against him.
“She was thinking of you,” Boone murmured in the darkness. “My guess is she invited the shot to ensure Tipton didn’t turn his weapon on you first.” He glanced sideways at Jonah and stared at him for a long moment. “What does it feel like to have a woman love you so much that she would take a bullet for you?”
Jonah didn’t have an answer. He couldn’t speak. Hell, he could barely even breathe!
Chapter Fourteen
By the time Jonah reached the ranch house he had composed himself—somewhat. He carried Maddie upstairs to her room, then sent Boone to deliver the news to Christina that Maddie had been injured. Although the gi
rl was still unsteady on her feet, she insisted on seeing for herself that her sister was alive and would recover from her wound.
“Do you have laudanum in the house?” Jonah questioned Christina, who was clutching Boone’s arm to hold herself upright.
She nodded jerkily without taking her worried gaze off her sister.
“Good. Do you feel up to fetching it for me?”
When Christina reversed direction, still clinging to Boone for support, and exited the room, Jonah gently peeled off Maddie’s boots, breeches and shirt and tucked her in bed. He was so aggravated at Maddie for confronting Ward alone and then drawing his gunfire that he wanted to shake the stuffing out of her. Yet, simultaneously, he wanted to clutch her possessively to him and hold on to her until all these wild emotions that were whirling through him finally settled back in place.
Jonah half collapsed on the edge of the bed and heaved a frustrated sigh. No one had ever gone to such dangerous extremes to protect him from harm and he didn’t know how to deal with it. But then, he didn’t know how to deal with half the emotions Maddie triggered inside him.
This daring female always kept him off balance and distracted. He never really found solid footing when she was around. Forbidden desire and sensible logic constantly warred inside him, and Jonah had bedded down, battle-weary, every night since Maddie had barged into his life and turned it upside down.
He glanced up when Boone and Christina arrived with the sedative and a pitcher of water. “I’ll sit up with her tonight,” he volunteered as he gave her a double dose of laudanum to ensure she slept through the worst of the pain. “Go back to bed, Christina. You need to rest, and I will make certain your sister gets any medical attention she might need.”
When Christina simply stood there, staring down into Maddie’s peaked face, Jonah glanced at Boone, silently requesting that he attend to her.
“Maddie is in capable hands,” Boone soothed as he gently turned Christina around and shepherded her toward the door. “You can check on her first thing in the morning.”
Christina glanced up at Boone with such trust and affection that Jonah rolled his eyes in exasperation. The girl was growing entirely too dependent on his friend.
In addition, Maddie had convinced herself that she was in love with him, Jonah mused as he cupped his hand behind her neck to force her to take a drink of water. What was the matter with the Garret sisters? Couldn’t they understand that he and Boone were only temporary intrusions in their lives? Jonah and Boone had been trained as warriors—guns for hire, more or less. They never stayed in the same place for very long and they weren’t supposed to become emotionally attached before they moved on.
Jonah pulled up a chair and plunked down in it. He expelled a loud sigh, then scrubbed his hands over his face. He had to focus on wrapping up this case, then get out of Maddie’s life before he lost the will to leave at all. Despite what she thought, he was the last thing she needed, and Forbidden Canyon was still the last place he wanted to be.
When Maddie grimaced, then moaned groggily, Jonah’s thoughts scattered like buckshot. Watching her suffer was killing him, bit by excruciating bit. He kept reliving that unnerving shoot-out in Ward’s office and it kept giving him cold chills.
“Damn it, princess,” he muttered at her. “I should be the one lying there, not you.”
What does it feel like to have a woman love you so much that she would take a bullet for you? Boone’s words came back to him in a frustrated rush.
It felt like hellish torture, pure and simple, Jonah mused. Maddie had been willing to make the supreme sacrifice for a man who was unworthy and didn’t deserve her. He could see that as clear as day. Why couldn’t she?
Maddie awoke to find that she and her sister had reversed roles. Christina looked the picture of health while she perched on the edge of Maddie’s bed. Maddie felt as if she had been trampled in a stampede. Her body was stiff and achy, and her left arm refused to move without every muscle pitching a fit.
“Thank goodness you’re finally awake,” Christina said in relief. “I’ve been worried about you, and Rosita has been beside herself for days on end.”
“Rosita always overreacts,” Maddie said in a voice that she barely recognized as her own. It sounded as if her vocal cords had rusted from lack of use.
Christina dimpled and grinned. “Yes, she does. And she still refers to me as the bambino, even though I’m rapidly approaching my sixteenth birthday.”
Maddie wondered why Christina thought it was imperative to mention her age, and decided it probably had something to do with her obvious infatuation for an older man.
“Things are pretty much back to normal around here. I only wish Papa…”
When Chrissy’s voice trailed off, Maddie reached out to grab her hand. “I know,” she murmured softly. “But I think Papa would be proud of us for standing up to adversity the way he always did.”
“Yes, he would.” Chrissy muffled a sniff and tilted her chin to a determined angle.
Maddie smiled, realizing that mannerism was definitely a Garret family trait.
After a moment Maddie glanced sideways to note that morning sunlight was pouring through the windows. “How long have I been stuck in bed?”
“Four days,” Chrissy reported.
“Four?” Maddie gasped, astonished.
Chrissy nodded her silver-blond head. “You have Jonah to thank for that. He wanted to ensure that you slept through the worst of the fever and pain. I tried to convince him, having been overdosed with laudanum myself recently, that you wouldn’t want to be drowsy constantly. But Jonah insisted that was the only way to keep you in one place long enough to recuperate. And if you vaguely remember being roused hourly during the night to sip water and take nourishment, that was his doing. He’s been fussing over you as much as Rosita has.”
Maddie vaguely recalled Jonah’s voice in the darkness, but she presumed she had been plagued with whimsical dreams of his gentle touch and the light whisper of kisses against her cheek.
Christina smiled impishly. “Your pretend husband has taken over around here. I’ve been calling him General Danhill. He’s been spouting orders left and right to ensure you are well cared for, and he and Boone have been cleaning up this area of Texas in typical Ranger fashion.”
Maddie frowned, bemused. “Cleaning up?”
“They have been sorting the good guys from the bad guys, and Jonah has interrogated every hired hand at both the Hanson and Tipton ranch,” she explained. “He and Boone were confused about exactly who had ordered my abduction, and they were determined to sort it all out and get the story straight.”
“I told them it was Ward,” Maddie insisted.
“Apparently they had been given conflicting information by one of the men who followed you back from Fort Worth. It seems Ward was very careful not to let the right hand know what the left hand was doing. Or in this case, his right-hand men and the left ones. One band of henchmen kidnapped me and two of his hired guns followed you to and from Fort Worth. Ward planted informants here and at Avery’s Ranch, and he received constant updates about the goings-on.”
Maddie sighed heavily. “All because Ward refused to let Avery get the better of him and because he was obsessed with impressing his father so he could become the next earl of Longwood.”
“Langwood,” Chrissy corrected. “Boone and I rummaged through Ward’s desk, and we found several letters from his uppity father. Ward was exiled to Texas and his father insisted Ward had to redeem himself by becoming an honorable gentleman and a capable financial manager, if he hoped to save face after some sort of scandal that involved his best friend’s wife.”
“That two-faced, back-stabbing scoundrel,” Maddie muttered.
“You can say that again. Boone and I also found two bottles of laudanum in Ward’s desk, along with the tin cup I remember having shoved against my lips when I was constantly sedated.”
“I’m almost sorry that man is dead because I don’t think I
’ll feel vindicated unless I can shoot him myself!” Maddie grumbled as she tried to lever herself up in bed.
Chrissy’s hand shot out to hold her in place. “You are not getting up. I have been given specific orders to ensure that you stay put. For some reason your pretend husband is very touchy and adamant about you staying exactly where he left you.”
Maddie shifted uncomfortably. “Perhaps I was better off being sedated. That way Jonah couldn’t jump down my throat for daring to break the stalemate that night in Ward’s office.” She stared somberly at her sister, trying to make Chrissy understand why she’d done what she had. “I refused to see Jonah or Boone hurt on my behalf. They have suffered more than you know because of me. Better a wound in my shoulder than a hole through Jonah’s heart. And I will argue that point with him to my dying day.”
“And what point would that be, princess?”
Maddie glanced over Chrissy’s shiny blond head to see Jonah looming in the doorway, looking grim-faced, tough and so ruggedly handsome that her pounding heart did a back somersault in her chest and slammed into her ribs.
Chrissy popped up like a jack-in-the-box. “I think I’ll see if Boone would like a refreshing drink.” She grinned playfully at Jonah on her way out the door. “Don’t yell at my sister, General. She hasn’t fully recovered yet.”
Jonah ignored the teasing request and never took his eyes off Maddie as Chrissy brushed past him. He had spent the last four days racing from one place to the next, ensuring that all those who were responsible for causing an upheaval in Maddie and Chrissy’s lives were behind bars.
All except for that elusive Jesse Gibbs, who must have lit out for parts unknown. But Jonah was making it his personal crusade to hunt the man down and see him punished for the torment he had inflicted on Maddie.
Jonah had encountered some wily mastermind criminals in his time, but Ward Tipton headed up the list. The man had been exceptionally shrewd, intelligent, manipulative and conniving. He never told his henchmen the same story—hence Beau Newton’s misinformation.
