Secluded With the Cowboy

by Cassie Miles

  Dylan raced behind him, riding hard and fast. His horse’s hooves pounded the pavement. He wanted to believe that he was closing the gap with every stride, but the fastest horse on the planet couldn’t outrun a truck.

  Half a mile ahead was the turn leading toward the ranch. With several men standing guard, the people in the house were safe. Nicole was safe. But Dylan hated to think of Nate getting within a mile of her.

  If the road had been straight, he would have continued at a gallop. But the truck took a sharp turn and disappeared behind a stand of pine trees.

  The perfect spot for an ambush. And Dylan was no fool. He directed his horse onto the shoulder of the road, slowing his pace to ride across the unfenced property.

  Burke came up beside him. He wasted no time with discussion. With hand signals, he indicated that he’d ride around to the other side of the trees.

  If Nate had parked in the cover of those trees, they’d have him surrounded.

  Rifle in hand, Jesse rode up beside Dylan. “When we’re close,” he said, “we approach on foot.”

  Dylan understood his thinking. He wanted both feet planted on the ground before taking aim. There might only be time for one shot, and he didn’t want to miss. Beside a shrub, barren of leaves, he and Jesse dismounted. Dylan drew his handgun.

  Together, they picked their way through trees and shrubs. The dry soil, littered with pinecones and dead leaves, crunched underfoot.

  They could see the road. The truck sat there, idling. The old engine rattled. The stink of exhaust tainted the air.

  He couldn’t see anyone inside. Nate might have left his vehicle, might be on foot, hiding behind a tree trunk or crouched in the shadow of a rock. He didn’t expect Nate to play fair.

  “Split up,” he whispered to Jesse. “I’ll go left.”

  “I’m sticking with you.”

  They’d have a better chance of finding Nate if they spread out, but there wasn’t time for a discussion of strategy. He moved forward.

  The truck lights flashed on.

  Jesse dropped to one knee and pulled Dylan down beside him. Before either of them could take aim, the truck raced away.

  Dylan started toward the pavement, but Jesse held him back. “Stay down.”

  “He’s getting away.”

  “That’s what we should do. Get the hell out of here.”

  On the opposite side of the road, Burke waved. He was also on foot. “Stay down. I called Jesse’s men at the ranch house for back-up.”

  Dylan crouched beside a waist-high boulder. He had to agree that this set-up didn’t feel right. The truck had waited for them to get close. They’d been drawn into this area. It was a trap.

  “Damn, Jesse. I want to go after him.”

  “There could be somebody else driving that truck,” Jesse said.

  “What? Who?”

  “Nate pulled over a hundred thousand bucks off the top of the ransom. He’s got money to pay an accomplice.”

  If Nate was working with someone else, he could have gotten out of the truck. He could be right close by. And they’d be easy targets if they ran to their horses and mounted up.

  The brake lights on the truck flashed. The driver stopped and started, driving slowly. Teasing them.

  Dylan’s handgun wasn’t accurate enough for distance shooting. “Take the shot, Jesse. Put holes in his tires.”

  “Patience.”

  All this restraint was driving him crazy. Every muscle in his body tensed. He wanted to go after the bastard.

  At a bend in the road, the truck stopped. A harsh voice yelled, “Dylan. I know it’s you.”

  He recognized the voice. “That’s Nate.”

  “Are you scared, Dylan? Afraid of me?”

  “Come back here,” Dylan roared. “Face me like a man.”

  “You’re the coward. You and all your hired bodyguards. Hell, your wife is tougher than you are. She didn’t cry. Not much, anyway.”

  The thought of Nicole in the bastard’s grasp was too damn much for Dylan to take. He bolted to his feet. He had to go after Nate.

  “Wait,” Jesse said. “Don’t let him get to you. He’s trying to draw you out.”

  Caution be damned. Dylan refused to hide. He had to take action. He strode through the trees with his right arm extended, firing his weapon.

  Jesse tackled him, knocked him to the ground.

  “Get off me.” Dylan’s fury gave him strength. He shoved the bodyguard away from him.

  Before he could stand up, the night exploded. The air split in a thunderous roar. A ball of fire burst at the edge of the road.

  Dynamite. TNT on a long fuse.

  Red and orange flames licked at the surrounding forest. A shower of rocks and dirt rained down upon them.

  From far away, Dylan heard Nate Miller laughing.

  Chapter Six

  As Nicole sat at the kitchen table, chatting with Carolyn and her mother, a warm sense of drowsiness wrapped around her like a down comforter. They gossiped and talked about homey topics: baking Christmas cookies, shopping for presents, getting started on the decorations for the ranch house.

  Christmas had always been Nicole’s favorite time of year. She loved making wreaths and tromping through the forest to find the perfect-shaped tree. She hoped there would be a blanket of pure-white snow for Christmas morning.

  Eyelids drooping, she gazed down at her hands folded in her lap. The black-and-blue marks circling her wrists reminded her of the kidnapping, and she tugged down her sleeves to cover the bruises. It was better to focus on how good it was to be home, to put those terrible memories out of her mind.

  Tomorrow would be a brand-new day. She’d wake up in her warm bed beside her husband—a man with whom she had a great deal in common. For breakfast, there would be bacon and eggs and coffee and…

  The hint of a distant explosion shook her out of her reverie. She bounded to her feet. Her chair fell backward and hit the kitchen floor. “What was that?”

  “Trouble,” Carolyn said as she whipped out her cell phone. “I’ll call Burke.”

  A shiver shuddered down Nicole’s spine. Dylan was out there. Even though she’d begged him to stay with her, to leave the rounding-up of cattle to the others, he’d insisted on riding into danger.

  Andrea came up beside her. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine.”

  How quickly her sense of well-being had disappeared! Would she ever feel safe again? Nervously, she picked up her chair and pushed it under the table. Her fingers trembled as she carried her cup to the sink and rinsed the dregs of chamomile tea. If anything had happened to Dylan, she couldn’t bear it.

  “It’s okay,” Carolyn announced, waving her cell phone. “Nobody was hurt.”

  “Thank God,” Andrea said. “What made the noise?”

  Carolyn pursed her lips. She seemed reluctant to speak. “I don’t want either of you to freak out.”

  “Too late,” Nicole said. “What was it?”

  “According to Burke, it was…dynamite.”

  Nicole’s knees went weak. Dynamite? She braced herself against the counter.

  Carolyn continued, “Nate lured them into an ambush and set off a couple of sticks. But nobody was injured.”

  “You’re sure?” Nicole asked.

  “Dylan’s fine. He and Jesse and Burke are on their way back. They should be here in a couple of minutes.”

  In spite of Carolyn’s reassurances, images of blood and gore raced through her mind. Dylan never should have gone out there. Why hadn’t he listened to her?

  The wall phone beside the cupboards rang, and she automatically reached for it. She heard breathing, then a thin, cruel whisper. “I should have left you to die.”

  The sound of Nate’s voice stunned her. She gasped.

  “Is anyone with you?” he demanded.

  “Y-yes.”

  “Don’t let them know it’s me,” he whispered. “Give them a smile. Do it, Nicole.”

  She forced a smile
for Carolyn and Andrea, then turned away so they wouldn’t see the panic in her eyes.

  “I’m still in charge, Nicole. Don’t doubt it. Not for a minute.”

  She wasn’t his hostage, anymore. He couldn’t force her to do his bidding. “I’m not going to—”

  “Silence,” he hissed. “I almost killed Dylan tonight. He’s a hothead, isn’t he? Isn’t he?”

  “Yes.” She had to admit the truth. Dylan knew better than to leave the house, but he’d put himself directly in the line of fire.

  “Your big, brave husband doesn’t take very good care of himself. He takes risks.”

  Oh, God. Nate was right. Dylan didn’t know how to be a coward, didn’t know when to back down.

  “Doesn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m a patient man, Nicole. I’ve waited this long for my revenge. I can wait a little longer. Until I see Dylan riding by himself within the range of my rifle. Or maybe I’ll use a car bomb. I’m handy with a knife.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Do exactly as I say, or Dylan dies.”

  “I understand.”

  “Write down my phone number.”

  There was a message pad attached to the wall and a pencil on a string. She didn’t want to follow his orders. But if she didn’t do as he said, if she failed to make him happy, the consequences would be terrible. She scribbled down the number as he recited it, then she repeated it back to him.

  “Very good,” he said. “Get yourself a cell phone, Nicole. Call me at that number.”

  “Of course.”

  “If you tell anyone you’ve spoken to me, you know what will happen.” There was no inflection in his whispering. The lack of emotion terrified her as he continued, “I’ll destroy everything and everyone you care about. I won’t stop.”

  “Yes,” she said. “I know.”

  “Good night, Nicole. Dream of me.”

  When she replaced the receiver on the hook, her hand was surprisingly steady. After seven days in captivity, she was more accustomed to prisoner behavior than to the uncertainty of real life. She tucked the scrap of paper with his phone number into the pocket of her robe. She had to appease Nate Miller. To keep her family safe.

  “Who was that?” Carolyn asked.

  “One of the neighbors. The explosion woke her.” The falsehood slid easily through her lips. She had to lie. There was no choice. “What else did Burke tell you?”

  “Nate got away.”

  “Of course he did.”

  Nate was clever and cruel—more dangerous than any of them knew. They underestimated him, didn’t comprehend the depth of his hatred for the Carlisle family.

  “Something’s wrong,” Carolyn said as she came closer. “What is it?”

  “I’m tired. I should lie down.”

  “Of course,” Andrea said. “Come with me, dear. I’ll help you up to bed.”

  Dylan’s mother meant to be kind, but Nicole felt like snapping at her. She bit her lip to keep from saying something she’d regret. No one can know. I have to stay in control. Stiffly, she climbed the staircase with Andrea at her side. At the door to her room, Nicole turned to the sophisticated woman from New York. “I’m fine now.”

  “If there’s anything I can do—”

  “Thank you,” she said curtly. “Good night, Andrea.”

  Nicole closed the door, shutting out further offers of help and kindness. No one could understand what she’d been through. Not Andrea. Not Carolyn. And especially not Dylan.

  He’d never get it. He was too busy being tough and macho to pay attention to her needs.

  She took off her robe and hung it on a peg in the closet, leaving the note with Nate Miller’s phone number in the pocket. There was no way to escape him. She’d tried. For seven days she’d tried, but he was obsessed. Just as Burke said. Obsessive. All he wanted was to destroy her family.

  She slipped between the covers on her bed and leaned her back against the pillows. If she had to sacrifice herself to save Dylan, she’d do it. No matter how much he ticked her off, she still cared about him. At her core, at the center of her being, she couldn’t imagine what her life would be like without him. But could she still love him if he denied her the family she wanted so desperately?

  From downstairs, she heard the men arrive. They were loud and boisterous, and their boots clomped in the entryway. She heard laughter and imagined Carolyn throwing her arms around her big, handsome FBI agent.

  Without knocking, Dylan opened the bedroom door. His face was smudged with dirt. His green eyes blazed as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed.

  “You were right,” he said.

  She gasped with relief. Those were the best words he could have spoken. “Say it again.”

  “You. Were. Right.”

  She scooted across the bed and wrapped her arms tightly around him. “Thank God, you understand now. If anything had happened to you, I…”

  “Nothing happened.” He lifted her onto his lap and held her close against his chest. “We’re safe. Both of us.”

  She hardly dared to believe it was true, but he was here, safely in her arms. She tilted her head up and kissed him. Familiar sensations swirled through her. In the five years they’d been together, there had been thousands of kisses. Maybe even millions. But the firm pressure of his mouth against hers never failed to arouse her. His teeth tugged at her lower lip, and she kissed him harder. His taste was sweet nectar.

  Nestling into his embrace, she marveled at how perfectly they fitted together. He knew the secrets of her body, knew how she liked to be held, knew that she would shiver with pleasure when he caressed her back with feathery strokes.

  He was her man. Her lover. Her husband.

  His lips brushed the line of her cheekbone. He nipped at her earlobe. “I’ll always take care of you,” he said. “I won’t let Nate come near you. Not ever again.”

  “He wants to kill you, Dylan.”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  She pulled away from him. “You should be.”

  “He won’t hurt me. Nate’s a coward and a fool.”

  She shoved at her husband’s chest. “Nate wasn’t so foolish when he was holding me captive. He outsmarted you, the sheriff and the FBI. I’d call that pretty damned clever.”

  “Forget about him.”

  Dylan leaned closer for another kiss, but she wasn’t about to be seduced into complacency. Her vigilance would keep them alive. She climbed off his lap and stood before him. “I can’t forget.”

  He held out a hand toward her. “I didn’t mean to—”

  She slapped his hand away. “He almost killed you tonight because you didn’t listen to me. I warned you not to go out there.”

  “I already said you were right.”

  She wanted more than an apology. She needed his full assurance that he wouldn’t take any more risks. “When you heard that the fence had been cut, you should have known it was a trap. And it wasn’t necessary for you to respond. We have over thirty employees.”

  “Not all of them are at the ranch,” he said. “There are a couple of guys out in the far grazing pastures. And some had to stay here, guarding the house.”

  “You know what I mean.” She refused to be sidetracked by numbers. “Lucas could handle the situation. You should have left the wrangling to him and his men.”

  A shadow darkened the pale green of his eyes. He was hiding something.

  “What is it?” she demanded.

  “Lucas is dead.” He looked down at his boots.

  Shocked, she stepped backward. The back of her legs hit the chair by the window, and she abruptly sat. Lucas Mann had been the foreman at the Carlisle ranch for as long as she’d been here. The bowlegged old cowboy with a plug of tobacco in his cheek was an integral part of this place. “What happened?”

  “He betrayed us,” Dylan said. “Lucas was working with the Sons of Freedom when they first started their sabotage. He took payoffs. And he stood in
the way of our investigation.”

  She didn’t care. Lucas had been part of their family. At Thanksgiving, he’d sat across the table from her, wearing a freshly ironed shirt, with his thinning hair neatly combed. She couldn’t believe he was dead. “How was he killed?”

  “When Carolyn was delivering the ransom, he tried to help her. He was shot.”

  Nate killed him.

  Her worst fears were coming true. Nate had promised to destroy the people she loved, and he’d already started with Lucas. “Have you spoken to his family?”

  “He had no one,” Dylan said.

  “Except for us. We need to make the funeral arrangements,” she said. “I’m assuming there was an autopsy. Has his body been released?”

  “Didn’t you hear me? Lucas turned against us.”

  “So what? He made a mistake.”

  “He lied to me. He willfully destroyed our property.”

  “He was part of our family.” Lucas had given years of his life to the Carlisle ranch, and his contribution should be recognized. He died trying to protect Carolyn. “You have to forgive him.”

  “The hell I do.”

  She shook her head in disbelief. What had happened to the kind, sensitive man she’d married five years ago? When had he turned so judgmental? All that mattered to Dylan was his precious ranch. Lucas had destroyed his property and couldn’t be forgiven for that sin. “You’d carry a grudge beyond the grave?”

  “Some treachery can’t be forgiven.” He stood before her—tall and undeniably strong. “I thought I’d lost you, that I’d never see you again. And Lucas was working against me. Against us.”

  “You used to be forgiving. Remember that time when you caught that teenager poaching on our land? You could have turned him in to the sheriff, but you didn’t. His family was going through a hard time, and you gave him a job.”

  Dylan frowned at the memory. “That was a long time ago.”

  “I don’t know you anymore. All you think about is business. You used to take days off, and we’d go for a long rides. You used to bring me wildflower bouquets.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “I want the man I married. A kind man. A good man.” She sank into the chair, too tired to fight. “Please leave, Dylan.”