Forcing his rage into a tight ball, he scrutinized every corner of the other two rooms down that wing. Both looked barren when he began, but quite the mess when he finished. And still…nothing.
His patience was starting to wane, and the rage harder to contain. After all this time, he’d found where the chit had been hiding out. And now there was no trace of her? Absolutely not to be borne.
A burn boiled in his gut. If they were hiding her somewhere, he’d find the imp. Time was running out before the men would show up again. He had to move faster. Charging through the remainder of the house, he jerked open doors, turned over beds, kicked aside cabinets—anywhere she could be hiding.
Still nothing.
How dare she run from him, after all he’d offered the ungrateful brat? Instead of the ranch that had been her birthplace, she’d chosen a sentimental gemstone she never intended to sell. What a stupid waste of millions of dollars.
He wouldn’t waste that money. Not when he had men already on the hook. A buyer waiting in India. Not when this was the only source of income large enough to satisfy his creditors and set him up for life. He would not lose this chance.
In one of the final rooms downstairs, he did find one interesting thing. A baby.
For a moment, he watched the sleeping boy. It had to belong to the younger woman tied in the kitchen. How could he use this to his advantage? It would certainly draw information from her.
A quick search of that chamber revealed nothing else. Before he left the room, he gave the crib a solid kick. The infant jerked, then let out a wail.
Leonard spun on his heel and stomped from the room, a tiny smidgeon of satisfaction easing the burn in his gut. His purpose would be accomplished much faster if she were forced to hear her brat cry.
Storming back into the kitchen, he extracted his hunting knife from its sheath at his waist. He snarled at the woman, piercing her with his anger. Not a hard look to conjure at this point in his search. “Where is she?” He jerked the cloth out of her mouth.
The babe’s cry drifted from the other room, and the woman sat up straighter, anxiety washing over her features. “I don’t know. She left in the night with no word where she was going.”
He stepped closer, brandishing the knife not far from the woman’s face. “When?” He knew it wasn’t last night, because he’d been watching.
“A few days ago.”
Straightening, he eyed the blade in his hand. Tapped the point of it so a tiny bead of blood sprang to his finger.
The baby’s cries wailed louder. The tendons in the woman’s throat constricted as she swallowed. The little urchin was actually helping. Maybe he’d go easy on the sniveler.
Meeting the woman’s gaze with a cold glare, he tapped the flat of the knife blade. “Madam, if you value the life of that squalling brat in the crib, then you will tell me where Grace went and exactly when she left. Every. Detail.” He enunciated those final words so they left no doubt in her mind.
She licked her lips, but didn’t speak. Didn’t whimper or anything. Now she was going to make a show of bravado? When her child’s life was in danger? Perhaps she thought he was bluffing. Time to prove otherwise.
Spinning on his heel, he’d only strode two steps before her cry stopped him.
“No! I’ll tell you everything.”
Finally. He turned back and raised his brows.
“She left two nights ago. Didn’t tell us anything was wrong, just left. We discovered her missing the next morning. One of our men found her tracks on our property going northeast. I don’t know where she went after she left here. She never said anything about leaving or where she would go. I thought she was here to stay. I promise.”
The words spilled out in such a rush, she couldn’t have formulated a lie that quickly. He eyed her a moment longer. “You have anything else to share?”
Anger flashed across her face, but then her lower lip found its way between her teeth. Good move if she’d planned to fire an insult.
Now for his next steps. Grace obviously wasn’t here, but at least he had a direction and a time frame. And that time frame burned in his throat. One night sooner. If he’d been here one night sooner, she’d have stumbled right into his grasp.
Grabbing a lantern from the table, he slammed it against the counter near the old lady, shattering the glass casing and bringing out a little scream from the woman. Kerosene sprayed across much of the wood. He didn’t see any other lanterns in sight so that would have to do the job.
These women had accomplished his purpose, although they’d certainly not made it easy on him. But he knew better than to leave behind a trail of accusers. It was time to put an end to them. He grabbed a match from the shelf over the stove and swiped it against the metal range.
Impatience sluiced through him. He was here to get the diamond, not fuss with women and children. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the flame onto the kerosene-soaked wood, then spun toward the door.
Time to take action.
As he strode past the chamber where the babe’s wails filled the air, a niggle of remorse touched his chest. He wasn’t crazy about killing the innocent. But the cow hands would see the smoke soon and come running. They’d find the child in plenty of time before the fire reached it.
Leonard shook off the concern as he slipped out the front door.
Monty slanted another glance at Grace as they turned from the main road onto the track leading to the ranch buildings of the Double Rocking B. She’d been quiet on the trip back, especially these last two hours. But if her drooping eyes could be believed, it was more exhaustion than reticence to come back.
As he watched, her eyes narrowed even more, and her back straightened. “Monty, does it look like something’s different about the house? Look at the corner where the kitchen is. That’s a lot of smoke for a cook stove.”
He jerked his attention to the sprawling log home. It was debatable whether the smoke was excessive, but a tightness clenched his gut anyway. Had Leonard already found them? Surely Jacob had the place protected.
Still, he plunged his heels into Poncho’s sides and cantered toward the buildings. Grace was close on his tail as he rode around to the back of the house, right up to the kitchen door. A smoky haze filled the air now, carrying a strong scent of kerosene. In two leaps he was up the stairs and jerked the door wide. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the mixture of flame and dim, smoky air.
“Monty!”
The cry jerked his attention, and he made out a figure struggling in the far corner. He lunged that direction and squatted in front of Anna and Mama Sarita.
“Untie us.” Anna twisted to expose her hands strapped to the base of the stove. Mama Sarita did the same, although she also wore a cloth gag through her mouth.
He was barely aware of movement from Grace near the fire as he pulled out his knife and sliced through the ropes holding the women to the stove. How did the stove get out here in the corner, though? It was usually beside the counter, much closer to where the flames licked almost as tall as Grace.
As soon as he freed Anna, she scrambled away. Mama Sarita did the same, although a bit slower, as though she’d been sitting in the cramped position too long. How long?
He couldn’t worry about that now. They had to fight the blaze before it grew unmanageable.
As he joined Grace, she dumped a bucket of milk over the flames, smothering a small section. “I’m out of water,” she yelled over the crackle of the fire.
“Use these.” Anna pushed through from behind, shoving a blanket at each of them.
Adrenaline surged through Monty’s veins as they beat the fire into submission. With each heave of the blanket, his mind spun. This had to be Leonard’s work. A kitchen fire he could understand, but not the women tied to the stove. And where was Jacob? The children?
Panic seized him as he whirled to find Anna. “Where are the children?”
She motioned behind them, and Monty followed her gaze to Mama Sarita, st
anding in the doorway with baby Martin in her arms.
The wave of relief almost melted the strength in his knees. But that only accounted for one. Spinning back to where Anna rubbed her blanket over the ashes on the wall, he asked, “Emmaline?”
“She spent the night at the Wallace Ranch.”
He closed his eyes against the letdown of adrenaline. Thank you, Lord.
Grace beat out the last the flame, and turned to Anna, touching her arm. “Go to your baby, we’ll take care of this.”
Monty watched the look that passed between the two of them, and it only intensified the burn in his chest. They’d both been in so much danger—were still in so much danger. The man had to be caught.
Anna moved to where Martin still whimpered in the older woman’s arms, and Monty stepped back to survey the scene. “Where’s Jacob? And Juan? The rest of the men?”
“Jacob went out with the cowpunchers.” Her brow furrowed. “I’m not sure about Juan. He might be hurt.” Her voice rose as the realization settled over her.
“He’s probably napping. I’ll go check on him.” Mama Sarita patted Anna’s shoulder in a calming gesture, then disappeared toward the front hall.
As Grace finished beating the hot ashes from the charred skeleton of the dry sink, she straightened and turned to meet his gaze. The intensity there was almost palpable. A flare of the same anger and determination that raged through him.
He’d not been here to help, and the result had nearly been disaster. But there was no way he’d rest until this man was made to pay.
~ ~ ~
THE KNOT IN Grace’s stomach tightened as she swept her gaze over the smoky mess in the O’Brien’s kitchen. All because of her.
Leonard had to be stopped. She was tired of running. Tired of dodging his moves just in time. But this time she’d failed. Innocent people she cared about had almost lost their lives. The panic that thought brought on would consume her if she let it. But now was definitely not the time to lose her wits. She had to keep a knife-tip focus.
Turning to Monty, she met his gaze for a moment. His thoughts were clear. He planned to stop the blackguard who did this.
But how?
Her gaze swept to Anna, bouncing and crooning to her baby in the doorway. The look of exhausted relief on her face spoke to the trauma she’d been through.
Grace hated to regurgitate those memories, but she just needed a little information. “Anna, how long ago did Leonard leave? Do you know which way he went?”
Anna looked up from the babe, tucking her cheek against his head, although she never stopped the light bounce. “I’m not sure how long ago. Felt like forever, but we couldn’t have been tied long or the fire would have spread farther. As soon as he lit the blaze, he left in a hurry.”
“Do you know which way he went?”
Anna’s gaze dropped. “I…I told him you’d gone northeast.” She looked up again, her gaze pleading. “I tried not to. I wasn’t going to give you away, Grace, honest. But he had us tied and had a knife out and said he was going to hurt Martin.” She curled deeper into the warmth of the baby. “He’d already ransacked the house, so I thought he really might do it.”
Grace was by Anna’s side in two strides. “Anna, it’s all right. I’m so, so sorry you went through all that. Both of you.” She stroked the soft down on the back of Martin’s head. “It wouldn’t matter what you told him, Leonard would have located me eventually. Just like he found me here.” She glanced over her shoulder at Monty. “It’s time we take care of him for good.”
She turned back to Anna with the warmest smile she could summon. “Go care for the baby. We’ll be right out here.”
No sooner had Anna disappeared into her chamber, than the front door flew open and three figures hobbled in. Grace strode forward, Monty close on her heels. It took a second to make out the profiles with the light shining from behind, but Chester’s chattering voice helped with the recognition.
“I was just pointin’ out the stall an’—wham! The next thing I knew I was out.”
Mama Sarita had an arm draped around the boy, and a sinking feeling pressed in Grace’s abdomen. He’d been hurt?
She reached Chester and settled a hand on his free shoulder. “What happened?” A glimpse at Juan showed deep worry lines, with a hint of bewilderment.
It took several minutes and a couple of ginger cookies from the pantry to get the full story from the boy. Through the recounting, the anger in Grace’s chest grew, mixing with fear. How much these people had suffered on her account. It couldn’t happen again.
“Juan, ride out and tell Jacob what’s happened. Have him bring at least half the men in.” Monty had taken on his role as leader again, and the firm decisiveness in his voice took away a small measure of the fear churning in her chest. It was hard not to feel safe in this man’s presence.
The wrangler left straightaway, and Chester seemed to have worn down some of his excitement, as a yawn seeped out of him.
Grace touched the boy’s shoulder. “I think you should go lie down, but not in the bunkhouse by yourself. In case you take sick from the blow. Why don’t you rest on the settee in the parlor?”
“Yes’m.” The boy must be feeling fairly miserable to give in so easily.
As he dragged himself toward the front room, Grace turned to survey the damage in the kitchen again. “I guess I should clean until the others get back.”
Monty stepped up behind her, strong arms wrapping around her waist as his chin settled on top of her head. The warmth of his touch, the solid strength at her back—it was her undoing.
She sank into him, a burn welling behind her eyes as a sob escaped.
“Sshh…” He turned her face into his shoulder, and she clutched his shirt, gulping in deep breaths. “It’s all right, honey. It’s gonna be all right.” Monty’s fingers stroked her back without loosening his grip around her.
She soaked him in. The aroma of pine and horse and man, all rolled into the essence of Monty. And with his touch and nearness, she gradually regained control.
When she finally stepped back, she wiped at her eyes and sniffed. “I’m sorry.” She couldn’t force herself to meet his gaze, though.
Monty touched her chin, raising it as he ducked down to her eye level. “We’ll get him, Grace. With God’s help, he’ll be locked up by this time tomorrow. And then all this will be behind us.” His thumb reached up to brush another errant tear, threatening her control all over again.
With a deep breath, she turned away. She straightened her shoulders, then set to work cleaning.
Chapter Eighteen
“WE HAVE TO leave now, Monty. Every minute he’s getting farther away.”
Monty’s gaze tracked Jacob’s pacing across the office. “You don’t think I know that? But if we don’t have the sheriff with us, it’s our word against his if something goes wrong out there. This man hasn’t had a crime stick to him yet, and I’m not taking any chances. He’ll pay for what he’s done here.”
Jacob released a frustrated grunt. “But what if we lose his trail? It’ll be dark in a few hours.” He spun on Monty. “Worse yet, what if Leonard realizes her trail circles back to the ranch. I don’t want him back here, Monty. Not under any condition. Not even if we have a whole regiment of cavalry guarding the place. I will not put my family through that again.”
And that was the ace card. Monty clamped his jaw tight as the image Jacob painted came clear in his mind. “All right. We’ll ride out now. I can try to draw a map of the trail Grace took for the sheriff to follow.” Assuming Leonard could track well enough to follow the path she’d taken.
But he and Jacob would be following the man’s trail. Even if it varied from the map, all the sheriff would have to do is follow their fresh tracks.
He leaned forward. “I’m thinking we take two men—Nathan and Jesse. We’ll leave at least four others posted here at the house, and the rest out with the cattle. There’s no telling what he’ll do if he thinks he’s about to b
e caught, and I wouldn’t put a stampede past him.”
“Blast the cattle. He can have ‘em all as long as he stays away from my family.”
Monty raised a brow. Not that he could blame his friend for a bit of passion when he’d almost lost his wife and son to this villain. “The cattle are pastured near the house. The men on the herd can double as lookouts.”
Jacob released a long sigh. “Let’s go then.”
Monty turned to the office door, his mind running through everything they’d need to take. As he pulled it open, he stopped cold as his gaze found the figure leaning against the opposite wall.
Grace.
Jacob bumped into the back of him, and Monty stepped to the side for Jacob and his nervous energy to escape. But he never took his gaze from Grace.
She pushed off the wall, squaring her shoulders. Even in the shadows of the hallway, her chin had that stubborn jut he’d seen so many times when she faced off with a cantankerous longhorn. “Do we leave now?”
She planned to go with them? Over his dead body. “We’re leaving now.” He emphasized the we. As in—not her. “Jacob and I will ride with Nathan and Jesse. I’ll draw a map for the sheriff to catch up with us.”
If it were possible, she drew herself up even straighter. “I need to go with you, Monty. None of you have seen the man. I know him. I can help.”
“Grace, no.” What was it with everyone wanting to argue about this mission? But he was not backing down on this one. “You’re not going and that’s the end.”
If she’d been a porcupine, she’d have thrown every one of her needles at him with that glare. He wasn’t changing his mind though.
“I need to be there. If you don’t let me ride with you, I’ll leave on my own. Your choice.”
A bolt of icy dread shot through him. She’d do it, too. She’d already proven that.
Monty turned away and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “You’re killing me, Grace. You’re really going to be the end of me.”
The Rancher Takes a Cowgirl Page 13
