The Rancher's Return

by Karen Whiddon

  Kaitlyn found herself wiping away tears at the simple human contact, so kind and unthinkingly honest. “Same here,” she managed, turning away out of embarrassment. “You have no idea how nice.”

  She managed to compose herself enough to scoop up Bentley and walk with Reed to the door. She watched as Brock and Zoe got in his truck and drove off. The oddly couple-like feeling of this made her feel even more confused and sad.

  Reed waited until they were gone before speaking. “I really didn’t want to involve them. It’s too dangerous and I don’t want them to get hurt.”

  Defeated, Kaitlyn let her shoulders sag. “You’re right. Maybe it would have been better if I’d have kept running and left you out of it, too.”

  “Don’t say that.” He turned to face her, his voice fierce. “Don’t even think it. Alex deserves to pay for what he’s done. He killed my brother and ruined both of our lives. He’s not going to get away with it this time, do you understand?”

  “Yes,” she replied, moving past him and stepping inside.

  Suddenly exhausted, still shaky and on the verge of tears, she knew she needed to be alone. Before she reached the corner that lead to the long hallway, she turned around. “Good night,” she told him. “I know it’s only a little after nine, but I’m tired. I’m going to go to bed.”

  He nodded, watching her silently, his broad-shouldered silhouette oddly reassuring.

  Once in her own private sanctuary, she washed her face and brushed her teeth. After donning an old sleep T-shirt, she climbed into bed and clicked off the light, praying sleep would come quickly so she didn’t have to think.

  The sound of tires on the gravel road woke her from a restless sleep. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand—2:08 a.m.

  Not sure if she’d imagined it, she lay still and listened. No more gravel. This time, she heard the distinct thud of a car door closing.

  Visitors? Had Brock and Zoe returned? Or had Reed taken off while she’d been asleep and just now was returning?

  Grabbing her robe from the end of the bed, she padded over and opened her bedroom door. When she stepped into the still-dark hallway, she almost collided with Reed. He wore boxer shorts and a T-shirt and a battered pair of flip-flops.

  “Careful,” he murmured, steadying her with his hand on her shoulder.

  “You heard it, too?”

  He nodded, steering her toward the kitchen. “I’m going out there. Wait here.”

  “No.” Clutching at his arm, she tried to keep the desperation from her voice. “Don’t leave me here alone. Take me with you. Please.”

  “Kaitlyn.” Gently, he removed her hand. “I don’t know who’s trespassing on my property, or for what reason, but it can’t be good. They could be looking for you.”

  She blinked. “But no one knows I’m here.”

  “That we know of.” He moved away, crossing to the blinds covering the window in the back door. He peered out, tension radiating from him. “Whoever it is, they’re heading for the barn.”

  Grabbing his cell phone from the kitchen counter, he punched in 9-1-1. Nothing happened at first. “It has to go all the way to the dispatch in the nearest town,” he told her.

  Finally, someone answered. “Intruders,” he said, and then rattled off his address. “Send police right away. I’m heading out now.”

  Before he punched the off button, Kaitlyn heard the squawk of the operator’s voice as she asked him not to do that.

  He dropped his phone back on the counter, and then went back toward his room. When he emerged, he carried a rifle.

  “What are you going to do with that?” she asked. “Wouldn’t a shotgun be better?”

  Though he gave her an odd look, he shook his head. “I don’t plan on getting too close. Plus, I’m a helluva good shot.”

  “I am, too,” she said, glad that she’d taken Tim’s shooting lessons seriously back in the day. “Give me a gun and let me back you up.”

  “No.” Already moving forward, he didn’t even look at her. Promise me you’ll stay here.”

  Without waiting for her promise, he slipped out the back door.

  She watched him for a moment, until the darkness swallowed him. Frustrated, she paced, then headed toward his room. As she’d suspected, he’d left the gun safe open.

  There was another rifle and a couple of shotguns, but Kaitlyn was most familiar with the .38. She picked it up, liking the heft and feel of it in her hand. Checking the chamber, she saw it wasn’t loaded, but she spotted the stacked boxes of ammunition and took care of that easily.

  Then, pistol in hand, she headed out the door in Reed’s footsteps.

  * * *

  Reed saw them long before he reached the barn, thanks to the nearly full moon and the spotlight he’d installed a few months ago. George Putchinski and a couple of his buddies. Drunk, from the sound of it. They’d abandoned any attempt at stealth and were arguing in front of the big barn door.

  Careful to stay in the shadows, Reed paused and listened.

  “I ain’t hurting any horses,” one of the men insisted, slurring his words.

  “Me, neither,” the second man agreed, stumbling slightly as he moved forward. “Come on, George. You’re a cop. We shouldn’t even be here.”

  How on earth had George found this place? And even more, why had he driven two and a half hours to get here?

  “Deputy Sheriff,” George corrected sharply. “There’s a difference. But I’m off duty right now. And it’s high time we teach this low-life ex-con a lesson.”

  “How’d you even know where to find this place?”

  “I’ve got my ways.” George sounded smug.

  Guy number one giggled, a high-pitched, nervous sound.

  “Shut up,” George ordered. “If you don’t have the stomach for this, then you can wait in the truck.”

  “What do you have in mind?” the second man asked. “How about we just let his horses loose? He’ll be pissed in the morning when he has to go round them up.”

  For some reason, guy number one found this hilarious. He laughed so hard he doubled over and nearly fell. Apparently he’d had a lot more to drink than the other two.

  “Not good enough.” George again. “That’s why I brought my livestock trailer. We’re gonna take his animals to my cousin’s place. That’ll teach him a lesson.”

  Reed had had enough. “Horse rustling used to be a hanging offense,” he called out, keeping the corner pole of one of his three-sided sheds in between them just in case they carried flashlights.

  The three would-be troublemakers froze.

  “Who’s there?” drunk guy one called out.

  “Reed?” Apparently George recognized his voice. “We don’t want any trouble.”

  “Really? Trespassing on my land, talking about stealing my horses? Sounds like trouble to me. In fact, I’m within my rights of shooting to protect myself.” He took a deep breath, raising his voice. “I’m warning you. Get off my property.”

  Hearing the seriousness of the warning in Reed’s tone, the other two moved back, edging away from the barn. George however, held his ground, his wide-legged stance belligerent. He had a flashlight, Reed saw, but the kind that was only powerful enough to illuminate a few feet away.

  “Or what?” he shouted, withdrawing a pistol. “Do you really want to go to jail for attempting to shoot an officer of the law?”

  At this, the first man took off, all trace of inebriation gone judging from his single-minded sprint, flashlight beam bobbing ahead of him as he ran. The second man started to follow, and then stopped, apparently torn between his buddy’s good sense and his need to try and save George.

  Praying Kaitlyn had stayed hidden as he’d asked, Reed stayed hidden. “I’ve called 9-1-1. Since I’m sure you don’t have a warrant, I can’t wait to see how you’re going to explain to your coworkers exactly what you’re doing here.”

  George snarled a curse. “Come out where I can see you, you coward.”

  “So you ca
n shoot me and then claim I drew on you first?” Reed made sure George could hear his contempt and amusement. “No, thanks.”

  Way off in the distance, the sound of a siren approached. Given how far the ranch sat from the main road, everyone knew they still had a few minutes before law enforcement arrived.

  “George, come on,” the second man urged. “We need to get the hell out of here.”

  Though George hesitated, even he knew when it was time to retreat. “Don’t think I will forget this, Westbrook,” he threatened, enough rage in his voice to let Reed know he meant what he said. As if Reed had been the one guilty of wrongdoing.

  “I think you have that mixed up.” Unable to resist one final taunt, Reed took care to stay hidden, just in case George decided to be stupid and run toward his voice, trying to use the flashlight to flush him out. “I’m the one who now has something to remember.”

  “Come on, man,” again the second man urged, backing away as he spoke. “I don’t want to be here when the state police arrive.”

  Squinting, Reed tried to place the voice. He recognized the man from somewhere, he just couldn’t remember exactly where.

  The wail of the siren grew closer. “I think they’ve turned off the main road,” Guy Two urged. “Let’s go, George. Now.”

  Finally, George gave in to common sense and holstered his weapon. “This isn’t over,” he shouted, before taking off for his pickup. Since there was only one way in and out of the farm, he had to drive his truck pulling a livestock trailer down the same long and winding drive the sheriff’s cruiser would take. Right now it would be a toss-up as to whether they’d make it out before the law arrived.

  Reed really, really hoped they wouldn’t.

  He waited until George’s taillights vanished before turning around to head back toward the house. He’d barely taken a step when something moved in the darkness, cutting off the back porch light for a second.

  Instinctively tensing, he raised his rifle.

  “Don’t shoot.” Kaitlyn’s voice, shaky and breathless, stopped him. As he lowered the gun, she materialized out of the dark to stand in front of him. Stunned, he realized she carried his .38.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, struggling to contain his anger and terror at what had nearly just happened. “I asked you to wait in the house.”

  “I came out here in case you needed backup,” she said, her confident tone at odds with her stunned expression. “I’m a damn good shot. You just never know.”

  Hands shaking, he tried to remain calm. Didn’t she understand that he could have shot her? Someone from the sheriff’s office would be here any minute. If he’d had more time, he’d have let her know what he thought about her blatant disregard for her own safety. Now, though, he needed to get her back inside the house safely.

  “Hear that,” he said, his voice barely controlled as the siren’s wail grew louder. “They’ll be here any minute. Get back in your room. Run. If they see you like that, they’ll definitely recognize you.”

  She froze, indecisive. Though he tried not to look, the sleep shirt she wore clung lovingly to her curves.

  “Oh, crud.” Handing him the pistol, she took off running for the house. He watched her, walking slowly toward the porch light, aware he wanted to meet the sheriff outside.

  A moment later, the cruiser came into sight, lights flashing. As it approached, the siren whooped once more, and then cut off as the vehicle stopped.

  Though the state trooper killed the engine, he left the lights flashing. The driver’s door opened and he emerged.

  “Evening,” he said, inclining his blond head. He was middle-aged and had the weary air of one who’s seen too much. “What’s going on?”

  Reed recapped everything since the sound of someone coming down his driveway at 2:00 a.m, including giving George Putchinski’s name and the fact that he was a deputy sheriff from a town over two hours away.

  The trooper looked at him with a mixture of wariness and disbelief. “Have you been drinking, sir?”

  It took everything Reed had to keep from rolling his eyes. “No. I swear to you. George Putchinski has had it in for me ever since I came back home. He and a couple of his buddies—”

  “I think I’ve heard enough.” To give him credit, the trooper gave all the appearance of taking the information and writing up a report. “I promise you I’ll investigate this fully. I’ll call the sheriff of that town—Anniversary, you say?—and speak to him as soon as he gets in tomorrow morning.”

  “And if George denies everything?” Which Reed knew he would.

  The other man gave him a tight smile. “Well, then, without any other witnesses, it’s your word against his. And since no damage was actually done...”

  “Then as far as you’re concerned, no crime has been committed.”

  “Exactly.” Eyeing him carefully, the Trooper stowed his pad and pen in his shirt pocket. “Now, if there’s not anything else, I’ll go.”

  Reed nodded. He wished like hell Kaitlyn could come out and tell the sheriff what she’d seen and corroborate his story. But since she couldn’t, he had no choice but to stand silently and watch as the state trooper got in the cruiser and pulled away.

  Then he went into the house. Kaitlyn waited in the kitchen, watching him expectantly. She fairly vibrated with nervous energy.

  “They know how to find me,” he told her, not bothering to elaborate on who “they” were.

  Eyes wide, she stared. “How?”

  “I’m wondering if George put a trace on Brock’s truck. I just can’t believe he drove two and a half hours just to make trouble.”

  “If he knows, that means Alex does, too. I need to leave.” The panicked defeat in her voice almost had him reaching for her. Almost, except he knew if he did, she’d likely recoil and right now he didn’t think he could take that.

  “Not yet,” he said. “Judging from George’s actions tonight, he hasn’t told whoever he reports to anything. The state trooper is going to call Roger Giles—our sheriff—tomorrow and talk to him about this. I might even press charges.”

  She made a soft sound of distress. “That’s asking for trouble, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Is it?” Jaw clenched with the effort of holding himself in, he turned away. “At some point I have to stop the harassment. And that’s what this was, plain and simple. Next he’s going to start hurting my livestock.”

  “Why does he hate you so much?” she asked.

  “I have no idea.” He forced himself to look back at her. “I almost shot you tonight. Don’t ever do that again, understand?”

  Slowly she nodded. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just wanted to help. I’m tired of being a victim.”

  Though her words stunned him, he refused to show any reaction. “Good night,” he said, and left her standing there without another glance.

  Once in his room, he closed the door, sat down on the edge of the bed and wondered how the hell he could possibly go back to sleep. Short answer, he couldn’t.

  Yanking his door open again, he padded down the hall, past the now-empty kitchen, and retrieved his bottle of whiskey and a glass from the den. He carried those back to his room, well aware he would need at least one drink if he’d have the slightest prayer of sleeping.

  Chapter 8

  After Reed left, Kaitlyn rushed to her room and tried to get a handle on the breath-choking panic. They knew how to find Reed’s ranch. Which meant soon enough, they’d come here looking for her.

  She’d rather die than let Alex get his hands on her again. Even though she knew he’d eventually kill her, the things he’d already done to her made her shake.

  Not only that, but her mere presence had placed Brock and Zoe and Reed in danger. She couldn’t bear it if they were hurt because of her.

  Clearly, she’d been wrong. Wrong to believe Reed could help bring Alex to justice. Alex was just too powerful, too well connected. Nothing they could do would bring him down.

  Her only other
option would be to run.

  Fueled by fear, she began tossing her meagre belongings in her duffel bag. Before she’d even finished, she realized she didn’t have a car and couldn’t walk the distance to town. Even if she could, what then? She had a little cash, maybe enough to buy a used car, but where would she go? How would she survive?

  Squaring her shoulders, she finished packing. She’d figure something out. Better a life on the run than endangering everyone who tried to help her.

  She’d just zipped up the zipper when Reed knocked on her door. Without waiting for her to answer, he opened it and came in.

  “I saw your light. You couldn’t sleep, either,” he began, but stopping when he saw her packed bag. “What are you doing?”

  “I was...” At a loss for words she stared up at him. “I was packing.”

  “You can’t. We’re in this together, remember? For Tim and for the years of our lives Alex took from us.”

  “I can’t risk...” She swallowed, unable to finish. He’d taken a step toward her. If she dared, she could reach out and touch him, he’d moved that close. Then, as his gaze shifted to her mouth, she understood something else.

  He was going to kiss her. Immediately her pulse began to beat a rapid-fire tattoo. Oh. Once, thoughts of him had been all that kept Alex from breaking her. Eventually, she’d lost that battle.

  Now fear warred with desire. Unfortunately for them both, fear won. Her body vibrating like a hummingbird’s wings, she took a step back, until the back of her legs butted up against her bed.

  Frozen, she stared up at him, unable to catch her breath.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he promised, his voice washing over her like velvet. She believed him, honestly she did, yet she couldn’t seem to stop her body’s trembling.

  He moved closer, his eyes dark and unfathomable. Moving slowly, deliberately, he cupped her chin. His gentleness felt completely at odds with the fierceness of the desire simmering like banked coal inside the depths of his eyes.

  And then...he bent his head and gently touched his lips to hers. She hadn’t expected this, the tenderness, the slow and thoughtful movement of his mouth.