by Angi Morgan
He put a bite of chili in his mouth and shook his head.
She set her bowl on the table and leaned back against the wall. Sighing. A short one, mainly through her nose. And, yeah, he knew how to interpret that one, too. She was ready to talk and let him have it for not visiting his father. She probably knew he hadn’t really seen anyone except the shrinks and physical therapists for close to two years.
“You haven’t talked to him, have you?” she asked.
“Don’t start, Kate.” He knew she knew the answer. They’d been together too long. Or had been together.
She crossed her arms and tipped her chin into the air in a determined show of downright stubbornness. She was about to let him have both barrels. Then all her reasons and frustrations—whatever they were—would tumble out. He’d listen and wouldn’t interrupt since she’d be right. Then it would be too dark to leave till morning. And then they’d be sleeping here on that one mattress. ’Cause he was certain he wasn’t sleeping on the cold, drafty boards forming the floor. No, sir, now wasn’t the time to hash out how stunted his emotions were.
Remind her how dangerous the situation is.
“Don’t get me wrong, Kate. I know there’s a lot to talk about. Now’s just not the best time.” He dropped his spoon on the table. “Serna probably has someone watching the ranch house. The longer we stay here, the more likely the bastard will get curious about why we’re not heading back. Hell, he might already know where we are ’cause Juan showed up.”
“I understand all that. I didn’t say a word. And it’s amazing how you can’t unless you’re issuing orders.” She grabbed her bowl and ate.
The silence grew.
He turned his bowl up to his lips and spooned what he could in his mouth, chewing the rest as he stood and stretched his aching back. This afternoon had been the most activity outside of physical therapy that he’d had in three years. He was not looking forward to a couple of hours on horseback over rocky terrain, in the dark.
“Leave the dishes in the well bucket. I’ll put out the fire.”
She didn’t argue, just dropped the metal bowls with a clunk into the only water inside the shack. He pulled the extra blankets off the shelf, rolling them tight for their saddles—just in case they didn’t make it to the cabin.
Man, he needed the dad-blasted water to put out the fire.
Slow on the uptake. That’s what he was. She’d known and that’s exactly why she hadn’t made a different suggestion. He might be a Texas Ranger, investigating drug cartels and other illegal activity, but his wife would always be a whole lot smarter.
* * *
KATE’S FAMILY HAD kept the line shack simple. She loved the hand-assembled furniture put together from boredom by ranch hands over the years. Some of the cast-iron pots had been used on cattle drives a century ago. There was no way she’d let it rust. She scrubbed and oiled the old Dutch oven while Cord made a trip to the well to water the horses they’d leave behind.
Keeping it simple kept the shack an unattractive place for people passing through their property. Nothing of real value to steal or carry off. Her family and all the ranch hands had to accept the fact people were going to cross the land. There was a lot of acreage, making it impossible to monitor one hundred percent of the time. A plus on their side was that the land wasn’t desirable for much.
It had only been in the past five years that they’d cleared and widened the trail so a vehicle could drive here. About the same time they began utilizing ATVs. That was a long and muscle-aching project. Every free day Cord had off from duty that summer was spent moving rocks and smoothing the road. Her dad had loved how his son-in-law had just assumed he’d be there to help.
Kate swiped the back of her hand across her eyes. No crying. Nope. Nope. Nope. There were things to do and definitely places to go.
Everything was stored. Supplies were sealed away. She pulled her sweatshirt on and packed herself in her winter garb. She’d just stepped out the door with the rifle when the muffled sound of an engine caught her attention.
Then it was gone.
She ran the short distance to the corral and opened the gate. She didn’t have to see a vehicle to know whoever had driven up wasn’t on their side. Whoever “they” were, they had stopped far enough away to hope for a surprise attack. She pulled the cinches and shooed the extra horses into the open field.
“Kate.” Cord’s voice was deep and low, barely audible. “You ready?”
She slid the rifle into the center of the blanket he’d already tied to the back of her saddle and stepped into the stirrup. “I am now.”
His arms were right behind her, circling both ends of the saddle, his body close enough to touch her leg. She wished she could brush his smooth cheek with her fingers. His left hand landed on her thigh and gave her a comforting pat. “Stay low and get out of here as fast as possible. Don’t look back.”
“I’m not leaving you behind.” She pulled tight on the reins, holding the sorrel under her in check, searching Cord’s eyes to see if he was saying goodbye.
He’d done that before and she’d refused to let him die on her.
“Leave. Your job’s to protect the...the baby.” He tapped the horse’s rump and she skittishly jumped forward.
One last look at the father of her child, then she clicked at Candy and they flew.
As fast as her horse could cover the hills stretching in front of them, she put more and more distance behind her. The riding was hard. Slumping low in her saddle wasn’t the easiest, most comfortable way to ride. How she wished she’d heeded Cord’s need to hurry. What price was she going to pay for the foolish sentimental value of a Dutch oven?
“Come on, Candy girl, get us out of here.”
She heard the pop. She knew what it was. Knew the long echo of the sound bouncing through the low hills to the far canyon walls. She’d heard it for the first time when she was six years old and her father had taught her which end of a gun was what.
She waited.
“Come on, Cord.”
Candy kept moving forward, and Kate twisted in her saddle, looking.
No one followed. Then, after what seemed an eternity...more gunfire.
“Daddy’s alive, munchkin. Just delayed while he kicks some ass.”
Chapter Three
No fire. No camp. No Cord.
Kate searched behind her, confident that Cord could follow the trail she’d left. If he were following. If he weren’t injured. If he weren’t dead.
“Dumb, Kate,” she whispered, her breath forming a little fog in front of her. She couldn’t let herself think that way. Of course Cord was on his way. He’d make certain he wasn’t being followed and when he saw the trail veer off, he’d make certain no one else would see where he’d headed.
The clear, beautiful night did nothing to calm her nerves. Stars shone in the midnight black, but not having even a sliver of the moon made seeing difficult. She took a deep calming breath of chilled air. She’d done it a thousand other times during her life in West Texas. Just like camping, riding, shooting and waiting.
She should have stayed to help. But the scared look in Cord’s eyes made her let him jump into action while she ran. He wasn’t thinking of himself, just her and their child. What if...
“I will not let my imagination run all over the country. He’ll be here,” she whispered to the baby, her hand searching for it under her coat. “He’ll know where to come.”
Deviating from the plan to go to the lodge seemed right. Once the gunfire stopped, she couldn’t bring herself to potentially lead anyone following her straight to the only safety net they may have left. They needed that radio. One night in the open cold couldn’t kill her, but being trapped by Serna’s men certainly would.
Candy whinnied. Short and sweet, as if calling to another horse. Kate quickly stood, pulled the saddle girth, draped the reins over the sorrel’s neck and mounted. All the while searching the darkness for a white Stetson. The rifle was in her hands, safe
ty off before she thought twice. She heard movement just below her, but still couldn’t see anything—or anyone.
She’d chosen a spot a horse couldn’t reach easily. Familiar to her and Cord. He’d proposed here. Under the stars, a brilliant, clear summer night that seemed lifetimes ago.
“You really need to stop talking to yourself.” Cord’s voice cut through the silence. She saw his short brown hair pop up behind their rock. “Heard you clear at the bottom of the trail.”
She dismounted Candy and looped her reins around the bottom of some scrub, keeping the rifle in her other hand. Not wanting to talk about her concern for his safety. No matter how much she still cared for Cord, they couldn’t be together. “You all right?”
“Yeah, just sore. Lost Griggs’s rifle on the rocks. He’s going to be irritated.”
She didn’t need much light to see his pinched expression, the tightness in the way he moved, the slowness of each step leading his horse, Ginger, up the steep slope.
Cord plopped down on a smooth surface. She stuck her hand out for Ginger’s reins and he couldn’t raise his arm.
“What happened? Where are you injured?” She quickly staked his horse, clicked her safety on the rifle and knelt beside him.
His hairline was covered in sweat as if he’d been running, which she hadn’t seen since before... Well, running wasn’t a plausible explanation when he’d brought a horse. He might say he was fine, but he couldn’t hide that he was in pain.
“Don’t lie to me, Cord. We’ll get through this situation—and stay alive—a lot faster if we agree to just say what we mean and be honest.”
“Okay.” He unbuttoned her father’s work coat, pushing down the left sleeve.
“Were you shot?”
“Not hardly. You know, for some would-be assassins, those guys stink. Couldn’t hit the shed or a moving six-two target.”
She searched his arm and each movement caused a grimace. “There’s no blood.”
“I tripped. Wrenched my shoulder out of place.”
“We need to get you to the hospital.”
Cord looked at her like she was from a different planet. His lips compressed as if he were gathering strength or holding back his real opinion. “What we need is to get to the cabin and the radio. We’re one hour ahead. Two if we’re lucky. I slowed down two of them, can’t guarantee they aren’t out of the picture permanently. The other two left in the Chevy.”
“Dad’s truck?”
“Right. Juan’s either working with them, or they were waiting for him. Either way, we can’t risk going back to the ranch. You have to help with my shoulder, babe.”
Her heart did a little flip at his endearment while her stomach churned at having to pop his shoulder into place. God, give me strength.
Juan working with Serna? Juan telling Serna they were headed to the cabin? A two-hour lead? Frank dead? No one knew where they were? The thoughts shot through her mind at lightning speed, but why had her sure-footed, boot-wearing ex-husband “tripped”?
“You’re not talking.”
“I’m concentrating, trying to remember the last time, if ever, that you’ve tripped.” She pulled her gloves off, dropping them to the ground. “I also have a very vivid memory of the last time I tried to pop your shoulder into place.”
“Right after the touch football game on the Fourth of July in Valentine.”
“As I recall, it didn’t turn out well and you spent three days in a sling.” She shoved his coat off his right shoulder with just a bit too much enthusiasm and he growled. “Sorry.”
“I understand why you’re angry.”
“No, you don’t. I don’t understand, so how could you?” It was natural to care about the father of her child. The tension from the past several hours hadn’t lessened just because he was safe. She had to think of what would happen next. And she might be a little bit mad at herself for not having thought about anything except Cord. “Let’s just fix your shoulder and get out of here. Okay?”
Drops of sweat beaded on his brow. She wanted to gently wipe them away, take him to a doctor and...and... She shook her head and swiped the stones from directly behind Cord.
She pulled her jacket off and laid it behind him, along with his own. The ground was uneven and rocky. She’d been shifting on it for an hour waiting on him to arrive and knew how uncomfortable it was.
“Lie down on your jacket and walk me through this. I’ve never done it correctly before.”
He caught her wrist in a solid grip. “Kate. I’m sorry you worried.”
Did he really think that’s all it would take for her to forgive him? They were so past those words. Stupid hormones caused her to consider just how sorry he was.
“You ready?” she asked. Please don’t let me mess this up.
He lay back, his voice strained as he told her step-by-step how to put his shoulder back in its socket. An old injury from before she’d known him. A bad fall in a college football game. Tech vs. Texas maybe? That’s all she knew. He rarely talked about his past and she’d most likely heard a version of the story from his father or mother.
A solid pop, a loud grunt through clenched teeth and Cord rolled to his side away from her, holding his shoulder.
“I’ll make a sling from a blanket.”
“No.” He gulped a couple of times and stood, rotating his arm, the pain clear with each forced movement. “No time. Let’s hit the trail.”
“We can wait a few—”
He took her shoulders in his strong hands, jerking her to a stop. “Serna is determined to kill you, Kate. He wants to take you from me like I took his brother from him. Believe me. There’s no stronger motivation for revenge. We can’t wait around. I need to get you out of here. The faster, the better.”
“Still no chance you’re coming with us?” She knew the answer before she saw the look in his eyes.
He understood revenge. He wanted it for Sarah and Shane and even a daughter he’d never held.
Cord turned to his horse and rested his head on the saddle a couple of seconds before lifting his hand to the saddle horn and pulling himself up top. He had to be in terrible pain, but they’d gone through worse.
Much worse.
* * *
“THERE HAS TO BE ASPIRIN or something around here.”
Kate had been opening and banging cabinet doors for ten minutes. Cord didn’t know how to calm her down. At least he was consistent, ’cause he’d never known what to do or what to say.
“It’s okay, babe. Come on, sit. Rest a minute.”
“Stop telling me what to do and definitely stop calling me ‘babe.’” She wrapped her arms around her middle, giving herself a hug, and crossed the room to the rocker.
He couldn’t start the lodge generator. They wouldn’t be able to hear anyone coming. So they were wrapping up in heavy blankets. Fortunately, there were flashlights and extra batteries so they could at least see a little.
“Wish I could start a fire for you. You’ve been cold a long time.”
“Don’t worry about me.” She rocked furiously, determined in whatever her thoughts were at the moment. She blew on her hands, rubbing them about as fast as that rocker was rocking.
“Why don’t you catch some winks. I’m not sure how long we can stay. If they followed—”
“There you go again.” Rocking, she threw a hand in the air, waving at him as if he knew why she was so totally out of sorts. “There weren’t any horses for them to follow with. And since we didn’t come back, don’t you think that Maddox and the Sheriff’s office are just a bit curious as to why? Don’t you think we have till morning to make a decision?”
“I was just making a suggestion, ba—Kate. I’m sort of tired myself.”
“Then you take a nap.”
“I’m not the one who’s pregnant.” That must not have been the right thing to say.
“Men.” The one word ended on a long huff.
Man, he needed aspirin. Not only was his body rebelling at the f
all and horseback riding, his head ached from trying to keep up with Kate.
“Do you mind getting me the small Philips head? Remember where the tools are?”
He remembered. Tools were in the bench seat by the front door. Extra blankets in the cupboard between the bedrooms. Towels on the shelves above the bathtub. No hot water unless the generator was running or you heated it up in the cast-iron pot in the fireplace.
The cabin looked the same. Simple. Clean. Neat. No real valuables. No personal mementos since multiple families used it year-round. Fewer people during the winter since the road wasn’t easily accessed and ended four hundred feet below. It was officially on Danver land, but could only be reached by car from the ranch to the northwest, Nick Burke’s place.
Kate slowly stood, wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and sat at the table in the corner.
“This dang radio should work. We should have already sent a message to my brother or father, who would be rallying the troops to get here. We should have notified Maddox about the attack. What’s wrong with the stupid thing?”
He handed her the pouch of small household tools. She was crying, swiping at tears of frustration with the back of her hand. What were you supposed to do when your ex-wife cried? Comfort her? Keep your hands to yourself? Definitely keep your hands to yourself. Except this woman also carried his child. The situation was complicated so he kept his hands on the flashlight and the beam of light where she was working. Ignoring how upset she was, ignoring how he felt.
Department-forced therapy had made him think. As much as he wanted to shrug suggestions and thoughts away, he couldn’t. If the shrink didn’t approve him service-ready...he’d be behind a desk for a long time. So he’d recently been thinking more about the past three years than he wanted. Watching Kate get more upset and frightened brought each of his wrong turns into his mind, but he couldn’t see the solution.
So he held the flashlight.
“Why does every plan we have go wrong? This should have been a safe way out.” She unscrewed the back panel of the radio. “There’s no way to fix this—it’s missing tubes. The hands didn’t say anything about needing parts or I would have ordered them.”
