Cowboy Under Fire

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Cowboy Under Fire Page 13

by Carla Cassidy


  “Let’s get you both back to the rooms. Forest, you can ride my horse back,” Adam said. “I’ll ride with Dusty.”

  “And Dr. Forbes can ride with me,” Brody Booth said.

  It took only minutes to get everyone back on a horse and while the five men remained checking out the property line, the rest of them headed back to the rooms.

  “Somebody needs to check Forest,” Patience said to Brody. “I heard a bullet hit him. He’s shot, but I don’t know where.” What if the bullet had struck him in the back? In a vital organ? What if he was already bleeding to death?

  “He’s a tough man. If he thought he needed immediate medical attention he would have said something when we all first showed up,” Brody said. It was the last words they spoke until Brody eased her down from his saddle in front of her room.

  Forest arrived and dismounted and in the dim light flowing from the room windows, Patience gasped at the sight of the blood trail that streaked down his left arm.

  “You need Doc Washington to come out?” Brody asked him. He held the reins of both horses. Patience knew that Dr. Eric Washington had been around for years and was the last of the old-school doctors who still made house calls in cases of emergencies.

  “No, I think it’s just a graze. I’ll get it cleaned up and I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Forest replied.

  “Are you sure? Maybe we need the doctor,” she said frantically. “Forest, don’t be a tough man and just suck it up if you need a doctor.”

  “Believe me, I’ll be fine,” he assured her with a gentle tone.

  Patience wasn’t sure she would be fine. The sight of his blood horrified her. He’d been hurt because of her. She quickly unlocked her room door and took him by the hand. She needed to see for herself that he was okay.

  “Come on, I’ll clean you up,” she said, still fighting tears that were a combination of residual fear and empathetic pain for him. Please don’t make it bad, she prayed as she thought of his wound. Please don’t let him be playing macho man when he’s really been badly hurt.

  He came with her willingly, and once they were inside her room she motioned him to the bed. “Take off your shirt,” she said.

  “I’ve been just waiting to hear those words from you,” he said teasingly.

  “Stop it. Don’t make light of this. I don’t like that. You could have been killed out there.” A new tear splashed on to her cheek and before he could notice it, she whirled around and went into the bathroom where she had a first-aid kit stowed beneath the sink counter.

  Her hand trembled as she reached for the metal case and another tear escaped from her. In theory the bodyguard duty that Forest had provided her had made her feel safe, but she’d never really processed that in his self-appointed job he might be hurt...or worse.

  She swiped away the tear, wet a washcloth with warm water and then grabbed the kit and left the bathroom. Forest still sat on the bed, now without his T-shirt. The first thing she noticed was the wide, muscled chest that possessed not an ounce of fat. The second thing that drew her attention was the wound on the outside of his upper arm and the blood that oozed from it.

  She released a silent sigh of relief. It was his arm, not his back, not his heart or any other vital organ. He would survive this.

  Neither of them spoke as she quickly used the wet cloth to wipe away any blood that had flowed down his arm. She was grateful that the blood hid nothing but strong, tanned skin.

  Once she had that cleaned up, she grabbed a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide and several cotton pads. “This might hurt,” she said and began to dab at the wound.

  “Don’t worry, I can handle it,” he replied.

  “I’m not sure I can. I’m so sorry, Forest. I never wanted to see you get hurt,” she said, once again fighting against a flood of tears.

  “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault. I was just doing my job and it was foolish of me to take you out on a horseback ride at this time of night. From now on we won’t be taking any more rides away from here.”

  “That’s fine with me.” Gratefulness flooded through her as she saw that the wound was, indeed, a graze. No bullet had lodged in him; his outer arm might be sore for a few days, but no permanent damage had been done.

  She cleaned the wound, added a liberal coating of antibacterial cream and then placed a bandage over it. It was only as she was putting on the bandage that she noted her intimate closeness to him.

  She wanted to run a hand across the wide expanse of chest muscles and she remembered the searing kiss they’d shared by the silo before danger had appeared.

  “You have a very gentle touch,” he said, and his eyes held a wealth of emotions that instantly moved her back from him.

  “Thank goodness it wasn’t worse,” she replied. “You could have been killed and it would have been all my fault.”

  “No, it would have been the shooter’s fault,” he countered.

  Dillon and two of his officers appeared in her open doorway. “Adam called me,” he said and eyed the bandage on Forest’s arm. “Are you okay?”

  “It’s just a flesh wound.” Forest got up from the bed. “Patience cleaned me up and it should be fine.”

  “Somebody tried to kill us,” Patience said, shocked by the tremble in her voice. “Given what’s happened in the past, I was probably the intended victim and Forest would have been collateral damage. You’ve got to get somebody under arrest for this. It was definitely attempted murder.” Near hysteria brought her voice to a higher pitch.

  “All of the men responded to the gunfire, so I’m certain none of the cowboys here had anything to do with the shots that were fired at us,” Forest said and touched her arm as if to calm her.

  “And they came from the ranch next door...the Humes place,” Patience added. Hopefully the trembling of her insides didn’t show on the outside. She couldn’t stop thinking that if that bullet had struck Forest a couple of inches to the right, he would have been shot in the back. He might have been paralyzed for life or killed.

  “The men are still out there seeing if they can find anyone,” Forest said as he dropped his hand from her.

  Dillon turned to the two men with him. “Go join the search and I’ll get a statement here.”

  Forest sat back on the bed and Patience joined him there, leaving the chair against the wall for Dillon to sit in. As Forest recounted the moment of the first shot, Patience thought about the bones awaiting her, needing to distance herself from the terror of being on the ground and bullets slamming into the earth all around them.

  It had been sheer luck alone that Forest hadn’t been killed, and once he was dead whoever was shooting would have come after her. Initially, she’d wanted to hurry and finish her work here to escape Forest getting too close to her. Now she wanted to get done as quickly as possible so she could leave here and save his life.

  It would be useless to try to talk him into stopping the bodyguard duty for the remainder of her time here on the ranch. He would refuse to leave her alone even more now that they’d endured a near miss.

  Every minute that she spent on this ranch now put him at risk as much as herself. She’d never wanted to save anyone as much as she now wanted to keep him from harm. It was an alien feeling for her, to care about somebody’s well-being.

  Dillon finished up with his questions and then left to join his men out in the field. Forest remained seated next to her on the bed. “That was definitely a close call,” he said. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She was pleased by the strength of her reply. She didn’t want him to know how frightened she was, how scary the whole incident had been.

  “I just don’t understand it,” she continued. “I don’t understand how anyone thinks killing me will stop the investigation into the murders.”

  Forest frowned. “I don’t know. It�
�s obvious we aren’t dealing with a rational person. I still think it’s probably the creep who murdered those young men and he’s somehow attempting to protect a secret that you might uncover.”

  “What secret? So far the bones have yielded few answers,” she replied. “When you first arrived here as a teenager you don’t remember any other teens who might have disappeared?”

  Forest shook his head. “Dusty and I were one of the last to arrive at the ranch. I don’t remember any other young men here other than the ones who are still here. Besides, Dillon has already asked all of us that and nobody remembers any workers disappearing.”

  “I would imagine that not all of the Humes cowboys would have been working there at the time of the murders,” she replied.

  “True, but some were and others weren’t working on the ranch yet but were local teens from town,” he replied.

  She stared at the bandage on his arm, a faint nausea rising up inside her. “You could have been killed.”

  “Nah, my end of life isn’t going to happen with me facedown in some cow field. I’m planning on dying peacefully in my sleep when I’m about a hundred years old. I’ll have left behind a loving wife, children and dozens of grandchildren.” He spoke lightly but with determination.

  “You see your future so clearly.” She tried not to focus on his magnificent bare chest but found staring into the beauty of his eyes equally unsettling.

  He nodded. “I see it in my head. I dream about it in my sleep. What about you? What does your future look like?”

  Before she could reply, Dusty appeared in the doorway. “Just wanted to check that you were really okay,” he said worriedly to Forest.

  “As you can see, Patience played nurse and fixed me right up,” Forest replied. “It was just a little flesh wound.”

  “Thank God,” Patience said, and Dusty nodded in agreement.

  “The men are returning now. They didn’t see anyone either on our property or on the Humes place,” he said.

  “I imagine the shooter ran off the minute all the men arrived,” Forest said.

  “Thank God you all showed up when you did,” Patience said. She didn’t even want to think of what might have happened if the Holiday gang hadn’t arrived at precisely the moment they had. She and Forest had been sitting ducks in the open with no protection. Another minute or two out there all alone certainly might have led to tragedy.

  Dillon showed up in the doorway once again. “We’ve checked everything out but with the darkness it’s impossible to see much of anything. We’ll be back here early in the morning to get a better look at things and see if we can locate the actual position of the shooter. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he dropped his identification,” he finished dryly. “I’ll let you know what we find out tomorrow.”

  He left the room, as did Dusty, and then Forest stood. “It’s late and I’m sure you’re exhausted,” he said.

  She nodded, although she was far too wired to be exhausted. “Tomorrow I’ll change your bandage and if it looks like the wound is getting infected then you need to see a real doctor.”

  “It should be fine.” He picked up his T-shirt and then lingered at the door, as if reluctant to leave her. “Will you be fine for the rest of the night?”

  “I’m not the one who got shot.”

  He cast her a gentle smile. “But you were the one who was terrified.”

  “I was, and I haven’t thanked you for saving my life.”

  He tipped an imaginary hat. “All in a day’s work, ma’am. I’ll see you in the morning.” He stepped out of the room and pulled the door closed behind him.

  Patience walked over and locked the door and then leaned against it as myriad emotions roared through her. The abject terror of being shot at hadn’t left her completely, nor had the fear, not just for herself, but for Forest as well.

  The sound of bullets echoed in her head as the scent of the pasture earth filled her head. She raised a hand and placed it over her beating heart. Too fast. The rhythmic pounding was too fast to be normal.

  She sank down on the edge of the bed and drew in several deep, steadying breaths in an attempt to calm the fear that still attempted to strangle her.

  When she’d heard the thud of the bullet hitting Forest, she’d wanted to crawl out from beneath him and grab his gun. She’d wanted to kill the person who had shot him.

  Somebody wanted her dead and they were willing to kill Forest if necessary to get to her. In her gut, in her very soul she believed it was the person responsible for the skeletons that had been unearthed.

  Even though her death wouldn’t stop the investigation, Forest had been right when he’d said that killers weren’t always rational. If it was the person who had killed the young men in the pit, then she was the immediate threat and so the target. The killer would deal with the next threat when it came along.

  It definitely made her wonder what she might find when she had all of the bones removed. Was there a definite clue in the skeletons as to who was responsible? Perhaps something in the pit itself?

  She got up from the bed and headed for the bathroom and a quick shower. She stood under the warm water and thought of the kiss she had shared with Forest by the silo, remembered the sexiness of Forest’s bare chest as he’d sat on her bed.

  There was no question that he’d drawn her physically since the moment he’d had the audacity to step into her tent and introduce himself to her.

  Hormones, she told herself as she pulled her purple nightgown over her head. Nothing more than raging hormones. She shut off her light and crawled into bed, but her mind continued to work overtime.

  Forest kissing her, Forest’s thighs against hers as they’d ridden on the horse, Forest with his charming smile and sexy eyes and physique. He’d thrown himself over the top of her to make sure she’d be safe. He’d been willing to sacrifice himself for her.

  She wanted him.

  She reminded herself it was probably a matter of hormones and the nearness of death that stirred such a roar of desire inside her now. But explaining it rationally didn’t begin to satisfy it.

  She didn’t need to believe in love to want to be held in his big, strong arms. She didn’t have to believe in a happily-ever-after to want his naked body close against hers.

  Not wanting to overthink things, she got out of bed, grabbed her room key and left her room.

  Chapter 10

  Forest was in bed, clad only in his boxers and his bandage, but not sleeping when he heard the soft knock on his door. Assuming it was probably another one of the cowboys checking in to see that he was doing okay, he didn’t bother pulling on jeans but rather left the bed and opened the door.

  Patience stood just outside clad in her nightgown, the moonlight bathing her in a silvery glow. “Patience, is something wrong?” he asked, instantly tense and ready to spring into action if necessary.

  “No. Can I come in?”

  “Of course.” He flipped on the overhead light, but as she entered the room she turned it back off.

  “We don’t need the light on,” she said. She moved across the small room and into his single-sized bed.

  “Patience, what are you doing?” His throat tightened as a new tension built up inside him. Lord, his arm ached from the gunshot graze, but seeing her in his bed set off a far different kind of ache.

  “I just want to be here with you.” Her tone of voice was softer than he’d ever heard it.

  He remained by the door, confused about what exactly she wanted from him and afraid he might misconstrue the situation. “Are you afraid to be alone?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that. I just want to be close to you...intimately close.” Her voice held a sexy rasp that he’d never heard before.

  There was no way to misconstrue what she wanted, but still he hesitated. She’d been
through a traumatic experience. Hell, they both had. Her presence here, in his bed, could only make him believe she wasn’t thinking clearly. The last thing he wanted to do was take advantage of her and the situation.

  “Patience, I know this has all been frightening for you,” he began. “It was a bad night.”

  “That has nothing to do with what I want right now, and I want you.” Her voice rang with a strong assurance that quickened his heartbeat and stirred a fire in his blood.

  The bed was small, but she was like a butterfly pressed against the wall, leaving him plenty of room to join her. He’d wanted this, he’d wanted her, but he knew in his heart that what they were about to do was wrong for both of them.

  That didn’t stop him. God help him, but that thought couldn’t stop him, for as he scooted onto the bed next to her she placed her hand on his bare chest. Her touch cast all notion of right or wrong straight out of his mind.

  She leaned forward so their lips could meet, and her mouth tasted of the fire that had sprung to life inside him. She wound her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer...closer still to him. Her small breasts pressed against his chest as the length of her slender body molded to him.

  The warmth of her, the nearness of her was like the dream he’d had night after night, and his mind could scarcely believe that this was not a dream, but rather a reality. She really was warm and willing and in his arms right here and right now.

  Her tongue swirled with his as the kiss continued until she was gasping and he was gasping and yet neither of them seemed inclined to halt the kiss.

  He finally tore his mouth from hers, only to rain kisses down the curve of her soft cheek and the line of her jaw. Her hands moved from his neck to caress his shoulders and across his back. She was careful not to touch the area around the bandage.

  He’d imagined the touch of her hands on his bare skin so many times, but nothing had prepared him for the actual experience. Her hands were soft but heated, and each caress brought exquisite pleasure.

 

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