by Cassie Miles
Nicole tried to reach Nate again half an hour later. Then every fifteen minutes for an hour after that. Her nervousness about talking to him was replaced by a different brand of panic. Fear of the unknown.
“What’s he doing?” She paced in front of the dining table in the condo. “He’s out there.” She jabbed emphatically toward the sliding-glass doors. “Out there. Somewhere. Wearing his black ski mask. Hiding in the shadows.”
Dylan sat on the sofa, his long legs stretched out in front of him and his hands folded behind his head. His posture was typically laid-back. He appeared to be completely unperturbed and cool. He seldom showed emotion. Never let anyone see him sweat.
His attitude drove her crazy. “Dylan!”
“Yeah?” His lips barely moved when he talked. “What is it, sweetpea?”
This situation was shaping up to be a typical argument where she was hopping mad, literally shuffling from one foot to another, pacing and frantic. And he just sat there, as still and silent as a chiseled wooden sculpture of a cowboy.
“Aren’t you worried?”
“Hell, yes.” His eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch, which—in his case—indicated a massive show of emotion.
“How can you just sit there?”
“There’s nothing I can do to make Nate answer his damn phone,” he said with little inflection. He could have been reading a shopping list. “Things are going to work out.”
“Will they?”
“Life goes on.”
She stalked toward him, knelt on the sofa beside him and stared hard into his face. They’d come a long way in their relationship, and she wasn’t about to backslide into old patterns. “I’m trying really hard not to explode like an atom bomb.”
“And I do appreciate your restraint.”
The irony in his voice irritated her. “Don’t patronize me. Please. Don’t.”
Something in her voice must have sparked a realization, because he reacted. He lowered his arms and turned toward her. His gaze met hers directly. “You think I don’t see what’s going on here, but I do. I get it.”
“Get what?”
“When you were kidnapped, I had time to think. Plenty of long painful hours when I regretted every dumb thing I’ve ever done.” He paused. “Like now. I’m not handling this right.”
“Don’t blame yourself.” They were in this dance together. “I’m at fault, too.”
“Right before you got kidnapped, when we were talking in my office—”
“Arguing,” she said.
“Arguing,” he repeated her word. “You went storming off.”
“Like I always do when I’m so mad I can’t see straight. I needed to be by myself, needed time to settle down.”
“And I didn’t stop you,” he said.
“How could you? When I get worked up, it’s hard to—”
“Nicole,” he interrupted her. “Don’t make excuses for me. I should never have let you go. I’ve been doing this for years, taking the easy way out instead of stepping up and saying what I really mean. And what I feel inside.”
“Your feelings?” She was stunned by this brand-new willingness to talk about what went on inside him. “Who are you, and what have you done with the insensitive lout I married?”
“I’m changing. Making a stab at it, anyway.” He rose from the sofa. “When I say that things are going to work out, it’s because I believe it. I believe in us. You and me and the love we have for each other. I believe that no matter what happens, we’ll always come back to each other’s arms. We’ll always be looking toward the same horizon.”
“I believe it, too.”
“I like when everything is…normal. Peaceable. When there’s no confrontation. A smooth, steady ride with no bumps in the road.” He shrugged. “I never go looking for trouble. But sometimes it finds me.”
She wasn’t sure she liked the direction this was taking. “Are you talking about me? Am I a lot of trouble?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He took her hand and pulled her off the sofa and into his arms. “But you’re worth it.”
He dropped a light kiss on her forehead, then continued, “The crazy part is that when I’m working, I expect problems. There’s always something—from a lost little dogie to a drop in the market. And I work hard to set things right.”
“I’ll say.”
Running the ranch sometimes meant being at his desk or in the saddle from sunrise to sunset. Dylan never shirked his responsibilities. There were days when she had to remind him to eat or drag him away from the desk at night to get some sleep.
“I guess,” he said as he brushed a wisp of hair off her face and tucked it behind her ear, “that I need to work just as hard with you. To face up to our problems and deal with them, instead of trusting that everything will take care of itself.”
She went up on tiptoe and kissed him. “That is the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“That’s good. Because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to write you poetry.”
“I bet you could.” She gave him an encouraging nudge. “Go ahead.”
He looked up at the ceiling for a minute, then back at her. “Here goes. Roses are red. Green is the grass. I like the look of your round, little—”
“Okay,” she said. “Maybe you’re not a poet.”
“I could get into this,” he teased. “What rhymes with boobies? Shoe trees? Two peas?”
With a laugh, she said, “That’s enough, Shakespeare.”
She hugged him because he’d lifted her spirits. But she stepped out of his embrace because she was still edgy. “We need to focus on the problem. Why isn’t Nate picking up when I call?”
He sauntered toward the kitchen where he poured himself another mug of coffee. “It’d be good if Nate was more predictable. The timing is causing a problem for Burke and all the people he has ready for the ambush.”
It was snowing at the ranch, a complication for their assault team. Burke had already told her to try to push her supposed meeting with Nate to tomorrow. “I’m surprised it’s not snowing here. We’re at a higher elevation.”
“Colorado weather,” he said, dismissively. “I was thinking about how you said he heard the train whistle blow when you were talking to him. Maybe he figured out where we are.”
“How could he?”
“A person could figure out where a train is at a given point in time on-line. But that might be too high-tech for Nate.”
“He did give me a GPS tracking device. Maybe he’s getting smarter.” She didn’t really consider this dire possibility. “Even if he knew we were in Glenwood, he wouldn’t know where we were staying. We’re registered under fake names.”
He nodded. “Or Nate might not be answering because he wants to mess with your head. Throw you off balance so you’ll be more likely to give him what he wants.”
“That sounds like something he’d do.”
She pulled out a chair from the table and plunked down. With her elbows propped up, she stared at the clean, white wall of the condo. So much of her interaction with Nate had been game playing. He’d hold out a shred of hope, then snatch it away. He’d brought her water and clothing, made sure she was comfortable, then left her alone for a full twenty-four hours. Even though she knew his identity, he continued to wear a mask.
Dylan leaned down beside her and whispered in her ear. “You don’t have to face him alone. I’m here.”
And Nate didn’t know that she and Dylan had mended fences, that their relationship was stronger than ever. For once, Nicole felt that she had the advantage.
She smiled up at her husband. “Before I made the first call to Nate this morning, I was thinking about ways I could convince him that I hated you enough to let him have his vengeance on you. I tried to think of you as an abuser or a guy who messed around with other women, and it was impossible. Completely, totally impossible.”
“And?”
“You’re a good man. A good husband. I’ve got nothing to compl
ain about.” She stroked his clean-shaven cheek. “Except for your poetry.”
She picked up her cell phone again and put in another call to Nate.
This time he answered. “You’re late. It’s almost noon.”
His voice shocked her into sudden alertness. She forced a fake cough, remembering to sound sick. “I tried earlier. You didn’t answer.”
“Make another mistake like that, and you’ll be sorry.”
She noticed that he’d dropped the whisper. His regular voice was just as ominous. “I’m ready to give you what you want.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t live in fear anymore.” That part was true, not playacting. “You want to come face-to-face with Dylan. And I can make that happen.”
“I’m listening.”
“We need to go over to the Circle M to check on the horses,” she said. “It’s snowing too hard today. But tomorrow. Ten o’clock in the morning. We’ll be there. Just me and Dylan.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone. Was Nate considering her offer? She closed her eyes, not daring to look at Dylan. She couldn’t allow her voice to sound strong or triumphant. She needed Nate to think of her as his captive.
“And what do you expect to get out of this?”
“Your promise that you’ll leave me alone.” As if she could trust him? As if she’d believe him? “Please, Nate. I can’t sleep. I keep throwing up. Please.”
“Stop whining,” he snarled. “I don’t believe you. You wouldn’t give up your precious husband.”
“I don’t want you to kill him. Oh, God, please don’t do that. But the Carlisle family has hurt you. Maybe Dylan deserves a taste of your vengeance. He doesn’t really understand what you’ve been through.”
“What is he? A blind man?”
“What you really want from Dylan is an apology, right? You want him to ask for your forgiveness.” She remembered how Burke had told her to get Nate to agree with her. “Isn’t that right?”
“That would be a start.”
“This is your chance.” She really hoped he was buying this. “You can tell Dylan what’s wrong with him and with all the Carlisles. Then you can take off.”
“What?”
“You can walk away clean,” she said. “Forget about the Carlisles. I know you kept a good chunk of the ransom money, enough to start a new life.”
“Tomorrow,” he said. “At the Circle M. Ten o’clock.”
“Do we have a deal?”
“I’ll think about it. You’ll have my answer later today.”
He ended the call.
She opened her eyes and looked at Dylan. Even when she was playacting, she couldn’t throw him under the bus. But Nate didn’t seem to mind. It had seemed as if he was considering her offer.
“This just might work,” she mused.
DYLAN DIDN’T SHARE his wife’s optimism.
Though he sure as hell didn’t consider Nate Miller to be a mastermind, he knew the man to be cunning. Dedicated hatred fueled Nate’s cleverness. All he wanted was revenge. Since he’d already defied the law and had little hope of evading charges for Nicole’s kidnapping and the murder of Lucas Mann, Nate couldn’t expect to get away clean. He had nothing to lose.
The more Dylan thought about the possibility that Nate had tracked their whereabouts using the train whistle, the more he believed they could be in imminent danger.
Nicole held a brochure in her hand. She smiled brightly at him. “These hot spring caves sound amazing. I think we should dress up like Frankie and Johnny and go there for a sauna and massage.”
“You think they’d mind if I carry my gun?”
“Most people only wear a towel.”
Much as he liked the idea of Nicole wrapped in a skimpy towel, getting all hot and sweaty, he said, “We’re not safe.”
She frowned. “Nate believed my story. He’s going to hold off until tomorrow.”
“Do you trust him?”
“No.”
“Let’s look at it another way,” he said. “If Nate comes to Glenwood looking for us, he’s got plenty of cash to bribe hotel clerks.”
“Lucky for us, we’re not staying in a hotel. He won’t find us.” She waved the brochure. “This is a vacation destination. There are dozens of places to stay.”
In this situation, the wealth of the Carlisles was a detriment. “Carolyn made our reservations. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that we’re staying in a fairly high-end place. Right off the bat, Nate could eliminate ninety percent of the motels.”
She slapped the brochure down on the table. “What should we do?”
He picked up the automatic that was resting on the table beside the sofa and checked the clip. “Put this in your purse, grab your jacket and let’s go.”
“Back to the ranch?”
“Burke’s got things under control there,” he said. “I want to get you somewhere safe. Let’s head for Denver. I can buy you some pearl earrings to match that necklace you got last Christmas.”
“Christmas shopping?”
“You bet.”
She gave a quick nod. “Give me a minute to pack my bags.”
In his mind, he envisioned Nate creeping toward the condo, positioning himself to take a shot as soon as they showed themselves. Dylan needed to be able to move freely, didn’t want to be burdened down with suitcases. “Leave the bags. I want to get on the road.”
“I can’t.” She headed toward the bedroom. “There’s something I can’t leave behind.”
He followed her. “What’s so important?”
She flipped open the top to her larger suitcase. “Just something.”
“What?”
She whirled to face him. “Lucas Mann’s ashes.”
Chapter Eighteen
“That old son of a bitch is dead, and he’s still causing me problems.”
“Lucas was like family.”
Nicole threw a couple more items in her suitcase and closed it. She had no intention of leaving behind the cardboard box containing the ashes of their late foreman. She’d brought his remains, thinking they might find the perfect place to scatter them. Maybe on the top of Mount Sopris. Or in the Roaring Fork River. In any case, Lucas was with them now, and she wouldn’t leave him behind.
Dragging the suitcase, she staggered through the bedroom toward the door leading into the hallway.
With his gun in his hand, Dylan opened the door a crack and peeked outside. “Give me the damn suitcase and take the gun out of your purse.”
She resisted. “I can carry Lucas.”
“I’ve got it,” he muttered. “I wondered why this suitcase was so heavy.”
“The ashes only weigh nine or ten pounds.”
“How the hell do you know that?”
“Looked it up on the Internet.” She glanced back into the room. “Maybe I should grab the laptop.”
“We’re going,” he said. “Now.”
At the door leading from the condo building into the parking lot, Dylan paused again to scan. They ducked and ran, jumping into the car as quickly as possible.
As he turned the key in the ignition, Dylan glanced over his shoulder to the suitcase in the backseat. “Buckle up, Lucas. Wouldn’t want you getting injured in an accident.”
She peered through the windshield as Dylan drove onto the narrow, winding road leading down into town. A perfect place for an ambush. She realized that she was gripping the handle of the automatic with her finger on the trigger. Instead of putting it down, she prepared herself to shoot. Nate could be hiding amid the surrounding trees, waiting to pick his shot. He could shoot out a tire. Fire through the windshield.
Adrenaline rushed through her veins and jumpstarted her pulse. When they circled through town and finally merged onto the highway, she breathed a sigh of relief. They were on their way.
Though it was entirely possible—likely, even—that Nate was still back in Delta, she felt that they’d made the right decision. “We dodged
that bullet.”
“I could be overreacting,” Dylan said. “But I’d rather be too careful than not careful enough. I almost lost you once. It’s not going to happen again.”
A light snow had started to fall, blurring the rugged landscape of rocks and trees. In the past couple of years, forest fires had taken their toll on the canyon, leaving much of the sloping hillsides barren.
The snowfall wasn’t enough to seriously impede the traffic, and Dylan handled the SUV with easy expertise.
“I guess I can put the gun away,” she said.
“For now,” he said.
“Should I call Carolyn and tell her about our change in plans?”
“Not just yet. She and Burke have their hands full with preparations for the ambush. No point in second-guessing their operation. They might still need to put it into effect. Besides, we’ve got plenty of time to make that call.”
Leaning back in the passenger seat, she turned her head and studied his strong profile. He wasn’t wearing his usual cowboy hat, and his tousled black hair fell over his forehead. His gaze focused on the road ahead.
“Are you angry?” she asked. “Because I brought Lucas along?”
“It’s kind of sweet. Crazy, but sweet. I can’t really bring myself to hate the old man.”
“Of course not. Not after all the years he worked at the ranch.”
“It’s hard for me to forgive him. But you’re right, darlin’. The good times outweigh the bad.”
Her taciturn husband was becoming a pro when it came to forgiveness. In so many ways, he was proving the depth of character that she’d always known he possessed. She felt closer to him by the minute.
They were almost to the Vail exit when the cell phone in her purse rang. She recognized the caller ID. “It’s Nate. What should I tell him?”
“Pretend that you’re still at the ranch.”
She answered, “Hello?”
“Go to the front desk at the Mount Sopris Hotel in Glenwood Springs. There’s a package waiting for Dylan Carlisle. Both of you need to be there.”
Looking at Dylan, she repeated his words. “You want me and my husband to go to the Mount Sopris Hotel in Glenwood?”
“I made a reservation in your name.”
