Safe at Hawk's Landing

by Rita Herron

  She didn’t want to talk about it, though. “You’d better see about the deputy.”

  He took her hand, but she jerked away.

  “I’m just going to help you down the stairs,” he said gruffly.

  Heat climbed the back of her neck. She should have realized that. But she was too shaken and confused to think rationally. Worse, her body still tingled, ached for his touch.

  She took a deep breath, held out her hand and ignored the desire rippling through her as she allowed him to lead her down the stairs.

  * * *

  LUCAS SILENTLY CURSED himself for losing control. He shouldn’t have kissed Charlotte.

  Dammit, he wanted her. Wanted to touch and taste every inch of her. Wanted to make her his.

  That sounded barbaric, even in his own mind. But hell, it was true.

  He’d never wanted a woman like he wanted Charlotte. And a first kiss had never affected him the way that one had.

  Her hand trembled as she placed it in his, and he cursed himself again. She’d been frightened and vulnerable and he’d taken advantage of the moment.

  He wouldn’t do it again.

  She deserved better. A protector who didn’t act on the lust that was driving him crazy.

  He forced a calmness into his voice as they left the attic. An image of her, terrified and feeling her way up those stairs, taunted him, rousing his anger.

  One man had escaped. One was dead outside.

  Dead men didn’t talk. But hopefully they could learn something from his body. An ID might lead them to the man’s background, his contacts, how he’d gotten involved in this trafficking ring.

  And to who else was involved.

  The siren wailed closer, lights flickering in the front yard as it screeched to a stop.

  “We’re in the hall now,” he told Charlotte.

  “I’ll wait on the sofa while you take care of things.”

  He nodded, then realized she couldn’t see him and guided her to the couch. She felt for the cushions, then sank onto it, and he rushed to the front door to meet the ambulance.

  Deputy Bronson was dragging himself up from the ground as Lucas made it onto the porch. He hurried down the steps to him.

  The deputy looked confused, and was rubbing the back of his head. “Dammit, they ambushed me. Is Charlotte all right?”

  “She is,” Lucas said. “How about you?”

  “Took a knock to the head. But my pride hurts more than it does.”

  Lucas guided him over to the steps. “Take it easy, the ambulance is here.”

  Two medics, one female and one male, approached. “What do we have?”

  “Deputy has a head injury.” Lucas gestured toward the back of the house. “There’s also a dead man out back. He tried to break in and kill the woman who lives here.”

  The CSI team rolled down the drive, and two investigators jumped from the van.

  Lucas explained the situation to the CSI team. One member had worked the crime scene at Charlotte’s studio, so he was familiar with the case.

  The female medic stooped down to assess Bronson’s injury then take his vitals. The CSI team followed Lucas inside the house, and he introduced them to Charlotte. “They’ll process the house. Is that all right?”

  “Do whatever you need to do to catch these guys and end this,” Charlotte said. “I’ll wait here.”

  Lucas wanted to sit with her and comfort her, but there was a dead body out back.

  “One of you can start in here, and the other can follow me to the dead man.” He gestured toward the hall and rear door. “When I arrived, two figures were sneaking around the house in the bushes. They came around the side of the house and entered the back door. I caught one of the men and we fought, and I shot him. The other man came inside to search for Charlotte. My guess is that he checked the downstairs then found the attic door, broke it and then started up to get her. That’s where we tangled.” He paused, angry at himself. “Unfortunately, he escaped.”

  Lucas nodded while the younger CSI started at the back door, dusting for prints and searching for forensics.

  The second medic followed Lucas to the bushes, where the dead man was. Lucas and the CSI snapped photographs, then Lucas rolled the man to his back and removed his mask.

  He should have looked like a monster. This man had nearly killed Charlotte. He’d taken innocent girls and done God knows what.

  Death had been too quick and easy for him.

  But he looked like someone Lucas might see on the street.

  Lucas snapped pictures of his face, then his body, then dug in the pockets of his black jacket for an ID. Nothing inside. No wallet or ID of any kind.

  “Look for identification when you search the property. The one who escaped left on a motorcycle,” Lucas said. “If they didn’t come together, this guy’s motorcycle may still be in the woods. His ID might be there.” Still, he sent photos to Keenan to start searching DMV records and facial-recognition software for the dead man’s identity.

  A car engine rumbled from the front. “Must be the ME,” Lucas said. “I’ll let him know what we’ve got.”

  * * *

  “IS DEPUTY BRONSON all right?” Charlotte asked as Lucas returned from the outside.

  “His pride is hurt more than anything,” Lucas said. “He took a blow to the head, but he’ll be okay. The medics are going to transport him to the ER for stitches.”

  “Did he see the men’s faces?”

  “No, they wore masks and jumped him from behind. I removed the mask from the man I killed. I didn’t recognize him, and he had no ID on him, so I sent a picture to our analysts. They’ll search databases and use facial-recognition software to ID him.”

  Lucas had killed a man to save her life. That thought disturbed her. Although the despicable man had kidnapped her four students and planned to sell them, so she tamped down the guilt.

  “Are you okay, Lucas?”

  A heartbeat passed. “Yes, he took the brunt of the fight. So did his partner before he escaped.”

  “That’s not what I mean. You killed a man. Does that bother you?”

  Another heartbeat passed, then footsteps echoed on the wood floor. They stopped in front of her, his masculine scene enveloping her.

  She’d never realized how sexy a man could smell.

  She felt dizzy, light-headed, from breathing him in.

  The sofa cushion dipped as he sat down beside her. Then he took her hands in his.

  That simple touch and connection made her want to kiss him again.

  But he’d obviously regretted the kiss, so she wouldn’t instigate one herself.

  “I don’t like to take a life, Charlotte. But I came to terms with the fact that sometimes it’s a necessary part of my job. This man was evil. He and his group hurt you and four innocent teenagers. He would have killed you if I hadn’t killed him first.”

  She swallowed hard. “I know. But I’m still sorry it came to that.”

  He murmured that he understood. “I do regret not being able to take him alive,” Lucas said. “But only because I might have been able to force him to give us information about the girls.”

  She squeezed his hands. “What happens now?”

  “CSI is processing the crime scene.”

  She flinched. These animals had tainted her studio and her home.

  “Hopefully we’ll identify the man I shot and that will give us a lead on the group. The one who escaped left on a motorcycle. We searched the woods and found the second one, so we’ll process it as well. I plan to get a security system installed in your house tomorrow.”

  “I appreciate that,” Charlotte said. If Lucas used someone he trusted, she could trust them, too.

  “All right, I’ll make a call.” He released a weary breath. “I’m sure you’re exhausted. It’
s nearly midnight and you were just released from the hospital.”

  A shudder coursed through Charlotte. She’d been plagued by nightmares since the abduction.

  There was no way she could sleep in her house tonight.

  * * *

  LUCAS FELT CHARLOTTE’S shudder rip through him. She was holding up amazingly well.

  But at some point, everything was going to hit her. It always did.

  Then victims crashed hard.

  Right now, she was hanging on to the hope of finding the girls. But each day they were missing meant the chance of finding them alive or unharmed decreased.

  “It’s going to take the team a while to finish up. I’m sorry, but there’ll be fingerprint dust on surfaces. I’ll call a cleanup crew to come in the morning.”

  Charlotte bit her bottom lip and gave a little nod. Her strained expression indicated how she felt about her home being invaded, first by two monsters and now by crime investigators.

  This was the home she’d built. Her colorful art pieces hung on the walls. Her furniture and decor was light and airy, bright with the hope of a future.

  Now it had been tainted.

  He wished he could change what had happened. But all he could do was help her through it.

  “I’m taking you to my place tonight,” Lucas said. “The kidnappers know where you live. They might come back.”

  She shivered, emotions darkening her face. “I could stay in a hotel.”

  “No.” The thought of her being in a strange room alone didn’t sit well in his gut.

  “Our ranch, Hawk’s Landing, is secure. No one will think to look for you there.”

  “I don’t want to endanger your family,” Charlotte said. “Especially since Honey is pregnant.”

  “My cabin is on the opposite side of the ranch,” Lucas said. “No one will get to you with me there.”

  He’d die first.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Charlotte felt disoriented and displaced as Lucas waited on her to pack a bag. She’d worked with her vision rehabilitation therapist to start setting up her house so she could function semi-independently, but now she was being forced from the comfort of her home to stay with Lucas.

  It was unnerving in more ways than one. At his cabin, she’d be totally dependent on him, a thought that incensed her.

  She didn’t want to need anyone. Not now. Not ever.

  “Do you need help?” Lucas asked.

  Charlotte squared her shoulders and shook her head. There was no way she’d allow Lucas to paw through her underwear drawer. She didn’t even want him watching her sort through it.

  “Why don’t you wait in the living room or check on the CSI team while I gather my things?”

  An awkward moment of silence ensued, then Lucas murmured his agreement. “Call me if you need help.”

  She did need help, but she certainly wouldn’t call him. If she wore mismatched clothing, so be it.

  Then again, she’d simply pack jeans. They matched everything. No need to pack a dozen outfits. She didn’t plan on being at his place long.

  She used the cane Rebecca had left and counted steps to her closet, then pulled out two pairs of jeans to pack, and another one to wear on the ride.

  Heat climbed her neck as she realized she was wearing her pajamas and hadn’t thought of it until now. Granted, they were modest—light blue cotton pants and a tank top—but she still felt exposed. The bandage on her shoulder where she’d been shot probably stood out in plain view, too.

  It hadn’t occurred to her to grab a shirt or robe when she’d been running for her life.

  She pulled a flannel shirt from the hanger, then found two T-shirts and her overnight bag in the corner of the closet, and carried them to her bed and placed the clothing inside. She moved toward the dresser, silently cursing when she rammed her toe on the corner of the bed.

  Remembering Rebecca’s advice to stop and take a deep breath when she felt confused or disoriented, she did, then made her way to the dresser and removed two sets of underwear.

  Next, the challenge of her toiletry bag. She found her toothbrush and toothpaste along with her brush. No need to take a makeup bag when she couldn’t see to apply it. She hardly ever wore makeup anyway. She much preferred the natural look.

  She did grab moisturizer and ponytail holders for her hair. For now, that would do.

  She packed them in the outside zippered compartment of her bag, then slowly made her way to the living room.

  “Ready?” Lucas asked.

  No. “Yes. How much longer will the investigators be here?”

  “Not too long. I’ll have them lock up when they leave.”

  She turned and glanced across the living room as if she could see it. She could in her mind.

  This place had been her sanctuary. Her first real home. She’d decorated it with love.

  Would she ever feel safe here again?

  * * *

  LUCAS REMINDED HIMSELF that he had to keep his hands off of Charlotte.

  He’d crossed the line earlier. Something he’d never done before.

  The realization shook him to the core.

  Charlotte lapsed into silence as he drove. Was she worried that he wouldn’t behave himself?

  Although...she hadn’t exactly resisted his kiss. She’d seemed to enjoy it.

  Don’t go there.

  Tonight was about making her feel safe and letting her get some much-needed rest.

  His wants and needs be damned.

  “Have you ever been to Hawk’s Landing?” Lucas asked.

  Charlotte tucked a strand of her gorgeous black hair behind one ear. “Yes, I visited Honey at the cabin she and Harrison share. She showed me the plans for the development and my house.”

  A smile tilted his mouth. He was glad she’d come to his family’s ranch, glad she’d seen it so she could picture it in her mind.

  “Your land is beautiful,” she said. “I didn’t go in your family’s farmhouse, but I’m sure it’s stunning.”

  Lucas chuckled. “It’s homey and lived-in, not a showcase,” he said. “But my mother didn’t want to change anything after my sister disappeared. When my father left, she fell apart for a while. I think she believed one day he’d come back and she wanted his home to be the way he remembered it.”

  Charlotte wet her lips with her tongue. “Do you ever hear from him?”

  Pain gnawed at Lucas, sucking at his insides. “No, nothing since he left.” He didn’t even know if his father was dead or alive.

  “I’m sorry.” She felt along the seat as if searching for his hand and he reached out and took hers. Her skin felt warm, titillating. Her touch was comforting.

  They sat in silence until he pulled onto the ranch. “We just passed the gate and sign for Hawk’s Landing,” he said, hoping to paint a mental picture for her.

  The SUV bounced along the graveled road leading past the farmhouse, then he veered to the right.

  “Harrison and Honey live to the left of the main house. My place is the opposite direction, but the cabin is laid out the same.”

  “I know they’re excited about the new house they’re building,” Charlotte said.

  “Yeah, they wanted something bigger. I guess for when the baby comes.”

  Charlotte nodded, but lapsed into silence again. He wondered if she’d ever been married or come close, but refrained from asking.

  Best he not go there. She might think he was prying or interested, and he didn’t want to give her the wrong idea.

  It had never occurred to him to settle down and have a family. But these last few months, as he’d watched his older brother and Honey, he realized it would be wonderful to have someone to love you.

  He spotted two horses galloping in the pasture and realized one of his brothers had added
to their equine population. They’d talked about ranching again, but he didn’t know how they’d manage with all their careers.

  “We’re here,” he announced as he parked in front of the cabin. The rustic wood architecture set against the backdrop of the lush pastures brought a smile to his mouth.

  This place was home. His safe haven.

  He wanted it to be the same for Charlotte.

  But she looked nervous as he led her into the house.

  “If you’ll describe the layout again, it will help,” she said, her voice brittle with emotions he didn’t quite understand.

  “It’s actually similar to your house,” he said. “A wide foyer as we enter with a table for keys by the door. Open concept with the den to the right. A fireplace is on the far wall, a dark brown leather sofa facing it. The dining area is to the left of the living room with the kitchen behind it. A hallway is straight ahead and leads to two bedrooms, each with their own bath. The first one is the master and slightly bigger. If you want it, I can take the other room—”

  “No, the guest room is fine.” She stood ramrod-straight. “I think I’ll lie down now.”

  “Of course.” She must be exhausted. He took her hand and led her down the hall past his room to the guest room. She stopped at the door. “Let me count so I can learn my way around.”

  “Sure. The bed is on the left wall by the window. There’s a small dresser by the door, where we are now. The bathroom is to the right.”

  He guided her through the layout, giving her time to acclimate, then into the bathroom. “There are towels on the hook to your left and a cup for water on the sink. Hand soap is in the dispenser. If you need shampoo, I can bring some in from my bathroom.”

  “Not tonight,” she said. “I showered at the hospital.”

  The hospital. That seemed like days ago, but was only a couple of hours.

  “I can turn the bed down if you want.”

  “No,” she said. “Please just leave me alone. I’ll manage.”

  Her curt tone made him stiffen, but how could he blame her for being short with him after all she’d been through?