Angel of Mercy & Standoff at Mustang Ridge

by Heather Graham

  The footsteps started again. The guys must have given up on their attempt to lure him into surrendering.

  “Get ready,” Royce whispered to Sophie.

  She did. With every part of her still shaking, she scooted back up and aimed the gun to her right. Royce adjusted his aim, too, and he calculated each of those footsteps. Without warning, he leaned out and fired.

  This time, the shot hit human flesh.

  Royce was familiar enough with that deadly sounding thud. The man groaned in pain. Then cursed a blue streak. So, he’d been wounded, not killed, and that meant he was still dangerous. Plus, his uninjured partner was out there somewhere, no doubt closing in on them.

  “Trade places with me,” Royce quietly instructed Sophie.

  And despite her shakiness, she managed to work her way beneath him and to the side of the tree where the injured gunman was. Royce was counting on whatever wound he’d given the guy, that it’d be serious enough to affect the guy’s shooting ability.

  Royce braced himself for whatever was about to happen, and he added a prayer that he could get both Sophie and him out of this alive.

  Then he heard another sound.

  Not footsteps. It was coming from behind them, and it was the sound of a vehicle driving up on the ranch trail.

  Great.

  This could be very bad if the gunmen had some kind of backup, which would make sense since they’d need a way of getting Sophie off this ridge. But their backup would also likely be armed and just as dangerous.

  Royce turned, adjusting his position so he could try to cover both his right and behind them. He figured there was a high potential to hit one and miss the other, but he didn’t have options here. He just had to wait and put his bullets to the best use.

  “I’m sorry,” Sophie whispered.

  Since that sounded like some kind of goodbye, Royce didn’t even acknowledge it. “Keep watch,” he ordered.

  Behind them, he heard the vehicle crunch to a stop on the icy trail, and the driver turned off the engine. The movement from the gunmen was mixed with the sound of the vehicle door opening and closing. That pretty much put Royce’s heart right in his throat, but even that wasn’t going to make him accept Sophie’s goodbye.

  “Royce?” he heard someone call out. “Where are you?”

  The relief was instant because it was his brother, Jake. Sophie and he had backup, but he didn’t want Jake walking into gunfire.

  “Here,” Royce shouted back. “There are two shooters,” he warned his brother.

  Just as Royce had expected, that brought on more gunfire. Not one single shot at a time, but blasts from both their right and left. Sophie and he dropped down onto their sides, and back-to-back they both took aim.

  And fired.

  Royce didn’t stop with one shot, either. He sent three bullets in the direction of his gunman, and following his lead, Sophie did the same.

  “I’m coming up behind you,” Jake called out to them. “And more backup’s on the way.”

  The gunmen probably didn’t like the sound of that, and even though they continued firing, Royce caught a glimpse of the guy at his side. He’d turned and was moving back. No doubt trying to get out of there fast since his partner and he were now outgunned.

  Royce sent another bullet his way, hoping it would cause him to dive to the ground. He didn’t want the goon firing any more bullets in Sophie’s direction, but he also wanted the men captured and arrested. That way, Jake and he could get answers about why this fiasco had started in the first place.

  “I’m Sheriff Jake McCall,” his brother shouted. “Put down your weapons now!”

  The warning was standard procedure, but like before, the gunmen just kept firing.

  Behind Sophie and Royce a shot rang out.

  Jake, no doubt.

  And the bullets began to pelt the trees and ground ahead of them. Still, Royce didn’t hear the sound he wanted to hear—the gunmen surrendering or at least falling to the ground, wounded and incapable of shooting back.

  Sophie kept hold of her gun, but she also put her left hand over her head, maybe because the blasts were deafening. However, it could be because she was about to fall apart. Royce was betting this was the first time in her privileged life that she’d been on the receiving end of gunfire, and he was surprised that she’d been able to handle this much.

  Suddenly the shots stopped.

  The silence crawled through the woods, and it took Royce a moment to focus on what was happening around him. Jake was there. Behind them and to his right. He’d stopped firing, as well.

  Then Jake cursed.

  Royce did, too.

  “What’s wrong?” Sophie asked. There was little sound in her voice, and her eyes were wide with renewed fear when she came up with the answer to her own question.

  The gunmen were getting away.

  “Get Sophie out of here,” Royce told his brother. “I’m going after them.”

  4

  Sophie couldn’t sit down. She was too worried to do anything except pace, but she was also exhausted and didn’t know how much longer her legs would last. The spent adrenaline and raw nerves were really doing a number on her, and if she sat down, she might collapse.

  Or explode.

  She’d been pacing in the Mustang Ridge Sheriff’s Office for well over an hour now, since Deputy Maggie McCall had arrived at the cabin to drive her back to town. And during that time Royce and his brother, Jake, had been out looking for the men who’d tried to kill them.

  Sophie was beyond worried. Those men were kidnappers at best, killers at worst, and now Royce and Jake were in danger because of her.

  “The McCall men know how to take care of themselves,” Maggie said when she handed Sophie a cup of coffee.

  Sophie mumbled her thanks for both the coffee and the reassurance, took the cup and watched the deputy return to the window. Maggie checked her phone, too, as if making sure she hadn’t missed a call from her husband. Sophie didn’t know Maggie McCall, but the tall blonde seemed just as rattled as Sophie was.

  Since it was better than pacing or fidgeting, Sophie checked her own phone for any missed calls and messages. Nothing. She tried again to reach Travis, but again it went straight to voice mail. So did the call she made to Agent Keith Lott. She tried not to read anything into the agent’s response.

  Or lack of it.

  After all, there were plenty of dead spots for reception around Mustang Ridge, and it was possible Lott was somewhere in the area, helping the McCalls with the investigation. But it did bother Sophie that Agent Lott hadn’t personally called her or shown up at the sheriff’s office. He certainly knew about the danger because he’d been the one to warn her that the two men were on the way to her house to kidnap her.

  So where was Lott now?

  She prayed that a gunman or two hadn’t been sent after him, as well. It was possible. Anything was. Because Sophie had no idea what was going on.

  “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” Sophie mumbled.

  “So you’ve said.” Maggie kept her attention nailed to the window and Main Street. “And you didn’t get a good look at either gunman.”

  It wasn’t exactly a question, but judging from her tone, the deputy wasn’t pleased that Sophie had kept quiet about the circumstances leading up to the attack. Truth was, there wasn’t much more she could tell Maggie other than she had gotten a warning from Agent Lott that she was in danger, and in that frantic, crazy state of mind, she’d run to the cabin where Royce had found her.

  Sophie had left out the details of the info she’d been providing to Lott. She also left out the fact that she’d lied about being pregnant with Royce’s baby. And the drunken encounter she’d had with Royce the previous month. She’d included bare-bones information in t
he written statement that Maggie had insisted on taking. But Sophie wasn’t sure how long she could keep her secrets.

  Or even if keeping secrets was the right thing to do.

  Because it might have been her lie that had put Royce in danger in the first place.

  “Finally,” Maggie said. She practically dropped her coffee cup on her desk, and she raced to throw open the door when the truck came to a stop in front of the office.

  Sheriff Jake McCall came in first. Unharmed, thank God. Sophie held her breath waiting for Royce, and when he stepped inside, she knew from his face that the pursuit of the gunmen had not gone well.

  “I was worried.” Maggie pulled her husband to her and kissed him. Jake took the time to kiss her back before he let go and turned to Sophie.

  “The gunmen got away,” he informed her.

  Sophie had figured as much since they’d returned alone and because Royce was scowling. It was bad news because now they couldn’t question the men and find out who’d sent them.

  Of course, her money was on Travis.

  Royce skimmed his gaze over her, his attention pausing on the jeans and sweater she was wearing.

  “Maggie loaned them to me,” she explained. And even though it was minor in the grand scheme of things, Sophie was glad she hadn’t had to wait around the sheriff’s office in her nightgown.

  “The Rangers are still out searching for the men, and they have a CSI team in the woods to collect blood samples from the one that Royce wounded,” Jake explained. He, too, looked at Sophie. “And on the drive back from town, Royce called your father and brother. They said they were in Amarillo on business and will get here as fast as they can.”

  “Business,” she repeated. Neither had mentioned a trip to Amarillo, but then there wasn’t a lot of information being shared at their house these days. She certainly hadn’t told them she’d been providing information to an FBI agent.

  “Royce called Agent Lott, too,” Jake continued. “They’re all coming in so we can try to get this straight.”

  “You actually spoke to Agent Lott?” Sophie hadn’t expected to hear that. “Is he all right?”

  “Why wouldn’t he be?” Jake asked.

  “He didn’t answer my calls. In fact, I haven’t heard a word from him since he warned me of the gunmen who were going to try to kidnap me.”

  Royce’s scowl deepened. “Lott’s on the way. But Travis didn’t answer his phone so I left a message for him.”

  It probably wasn’t a pleasant message. Good. She certainly didn’t plan on saying anything nice to him. If he came in, that is. Maybe Travis had realized that the authorities were onto him and had fled.

  Royce turned to his brother and Maggie who still had her arm around her husband’s waist. “Why don’t you head back home?” Royce suggested. “I’ll question Sophie’s father and brother. And I’ll talk to the FBI agent.”

  Jake shook his head, but before he could say anything, Royce added, “You’re on your honeymoon for Pete’s sake. It’s bad enough you didn’t take a trip, but neither of you should be working.” He glanced at Sophie. “They got married just three days ago.”

  Sophie had heard something about that. She’d also heard the sheriff’s young daughter was recovering from leukemia or something similar and that’s why there’d been no honeymoon.

  “We do need to get ready for Sunny’s trip to the hospital,” Maggie said to her husband.

  “Hospital?” Sophie asked. “I thought her condition was improving.”

  Jake nodded. “It is. She just needs another treatment, and it’ll require a couple of days’ stay in the hospital. She’ll be admitted first thing in the morning.”

  “And that’s all the more reason for you to leave now,” Royce insisted. “I doubt the gunmen will show up here, and if I need help, I can call in Billy.”

  Billy Kilpatrick, the deputy. While she was pacing, Sophie had seen his nameplate on one of the desks. Sophie hoped the deputy was nearby and capable of providing backup, because she agreed about Jake and Maggie leaving. They obviously had enough to deal with already.

  Maggie and Jake exchanged glances before he finally nodded. “Call me if anything comes up,” he told Royce.

  Royce assured his brother that he would, and Jake and his bride wasted no time getting out of there. Sophie couldn’t help but notice they were practically wrapped around each other as they hurried to Maggie’s car. A couple in love and hotly attracted to each other.

  She envied them.

  And then Sophie looked at Royce. Remembered the attraction that she shouldn’t be feeling. Or even thinking about. Fortunately, the surly look he was giving her was a different reminder—that he wasn’t pleased about any part of their situation other than maybe being alive.

  “I’m sorry,” Sophie said right off, and she figured she could say it a thousand more times, and it still wouldn’t be enough. “I need to make this right.”

  That deepened his scowl even more. “That’s what I’m trying to do.”

  “But I can do something, too. I called Travis and left a message, telling him we have to talk. I have to let him know I lied about the pregnancy.”

  “What makes you think he’ll believe you?” Royce locked the door, took a magazine clip from his drawer and reloaded. “Travis will probably just think you’re lying now, so you won’t be kidnapped.”

  Oh, mercy. Royce might be right. Still, she had to try. “I’ll agree to take a pregnancy test.”

  “Results can be faked.” Royce huffed, scrubbed his hand over his face. “Look, if Travis sent these men after us—and I believe he did—then, he’s not going to listen to reason. He’s riled to the core and wants to get back at you. At us,” he amended.

  She couldn’t argue with that. “But eventually he’ll know I’ve lied.”

  “Yeah, and by then it might be too late. Just because the two gunmen failed at kidnapping you, it doesn’t mean he won’t send someone else.”

  That was a stark reminder that Sophie didn’t need. “I have to do something to stop you from being in danger.”

  “Too late. We’re both targets, and despite what the gunman said about wanting only you, I don’t believe that for a minute. Any of those shots they fired could have killed either or both of us.”

  Sophie knew that, of course, but it somehow made it worse to hear the words spoken aloud. “I’m so sorry.” Her voice cracked, and she felt the tears burn her eyes.

  She hated the tears. And herself. She had made such a mess of things.

  “I don’t want you talking to Travis,” Royce insisted. “Especially not alone. And I don’t want another apology,” he snapped when she opened her mouth.

  Sophie had indeed been about to repeat how sorry she was, but words weren’t going to make this all go away.

  Royce cursed when his attention landed on the tears she was trying to blink back, and he caught onto her arm and had her sit in the chair next to his desk. He dropped down across from her.

  “I don’t want tears, either,” he grumbled. Then he huffed. “Crying won’t help.” His voice was softer now, but it was loaded with frustration.

  Sophie bit her lip, trying to force herself not to cry. It didn’t make it easier that Royce was right in her face, mere inches away. Not only could she see those intense green eyes, she could see every detail of his features.

  And she took in his scent, too.

  He smelled like the winter woods mixed with his own musky warmth.

  That scent, his warmth, stirred something in her mind. Just a glimpse of a memory. Of Royce and her falling into bed. For that split second, she could feel the mattress against her back. And more. She could feel Royce’s weight on her. The sensation of that hit her hard, and she choked back a sound that was part gasp, part moan.

  She shouldn’t
be reacting or voicing that reaction to something that was probably just a mixed-up dream. After all, when she’d awakened that morning, Royce hadn’t been on top of her.

  “Sophie?” she heard Royce say. “Where are you right now? Because, believe me, this conversation is far more important than anything you’re thinking about.”

  True. But it still took her a moment to push the sensations aside. That, and the blasted tears that kept coming to her eyes.

  “I’m not usually a crier,” she mumbled. There was no way she’d address his comment about what was on her mind. Because Royce was what was on her mind.

  “Well, you’re probably not used to coming so close to dying.” He paused. “Most people would cry in your situation. It’s just that tears bother me. My mom was a crier,” he added so quickly that his words ran together.

  Sophie remembered her father saying something about Royce’s parents having a bad marriage before Mrs. McCall passed away from breast cancer.

  “Tears remind you of your mother’s illness?” she speculated.

  “No. They just remind me of how unhappy she was. And we’re getting off the subject here.” He caught onto her shoulders. “What aren’t you telling me, Sophie? Are you keeping something secret about the night in the motel? You said we didn’t have sex—”

  “We didn’t.” She stopped and stared at him.

  “Did we?” he pressed.

  Sophie finally had to shake her head. “I honestly don’t remember.” That required a deep breath. “I have huge gaps in my memory from that night. And that’s never happened to me before. I don’t get drunk and sleep with people I hardly know.”

  “Me, either.”

  She hadn’t meant to make a soft yeah-right mumble, but it just popped out. With Royce’s hot cowboy looks, she was betting he’d had a one-night stand. Or a dozen.

  “I don’t sleep with women who aren’t my type,” he clarified. But then he cursed, waved that off. “It’s not an insult. I’m sure I’m not your type, either.”