Out of Control

by Mary Connealy

  “Ethan, Wendell’s awake. Can you help me feed him, please?” Audra Gilliland came around the cabin, belly first, and Ethan wished he’d have gone ahead and built on. Chopping and hunting and skinning and smoking and hauling weren’t enough. He needed something more to keep himself occupied—especially if it kept him away from the house. Even with all the work of tending this family he’d gotten stuck with, he had plenty of time to help with Wendell.

  Too bad.

  He’d’ve mounted up and ridden back to his own ranch, except his whole family . . . which these days was only Rafe . . . was over here.

  Maybe he should try and get to know Steele a little better. Seemed like a good man. Then he could stay at the Kincaid place and not miss his brother much at all.

  Turning the strips of venison hanging in the billowing smoke, he grabbed a roast and carried it with him into the cabin. “I can get this started cooking before we feed him if you want.”

  Maggie cried from behind the bedroom door.

  Ethan plunked the roast in the Dutch oven, poured some water over it, put on the lid and nestled it into the red hot coals to cook.

  “Audra, keep the baby quiet and get in here!” Wendell was the lowest kind of snake that crawled on the earth. Unkind to women and children—worse, unkind to his own woman and child. He might as well slither along on his belly on the ground, he was so low-down. Only the fact that the man was so sick kept Ethan from teaching the old buzzard some manners.

  Just as Ethan washed the blood off his hands, Audra came out of Maggie’s bedroom carrying the whimpering baby, looking distressed because of Wendell’s shouts.

  Her eyes. She could stab him to death with them. She was so frail. With her delicate bones, fine blond hair, fair skin, far too pale, she reminded him of thistledown. Ready to blow away with one good puff of wind.

  Every instinct he possessed told him to protect her, shelter her, set her like delicate china on a high shelf so she wouldn’t break. He’d bring her food. He’d care for her child. He’d carry her from place to place on a satin pillow.

  He considered ramming his head into the wall of the house just to clear his thoughts.

  “I really hate this place.”

  “What did you say?” Audra blinked those beautiful, fragile, tearful blue eyes at him.

  “I said, give me the baby while you see what he needs.” Ethan snagged the toddler from Audra’s arms. “If he needs something that takes both of us, Magpie here is gonna have to come whether Wendell wants her in there or not. I swear that man does more crying than the baby.”

  “Thanks, Ethan.” Audra got a little flush of pink in her cheeks.

  “If it’ll make you happy, I’m more than willing to say nasty things about Wendell full time.”

  Audra smiled while Wendell called for help.

  This was not an ideal marriage.

  Ethan propped Maggie on his hip.

  Audra went to Wendell. It was with some dim-witted amount of pride that Ethan got the fireplace stacked with kindling, a nice fire crackling to keep the meat roasting, all with a baby in his arms.

  “I’m gettin’ good at this, aren’t I, Magpie?”

  She bounced and grinned at him. He wasn’t all that thrilled to be acquiring the skill of doing chores with a baby in tow, but he had to admit he was learning the way of it.

  The house was starting to have the smell of cooking meat when Audra came back out. “He’s asleep again.”

  All that pretty pink was gone from her cheeks, and there was no smile to be seen anywhere. Her eyes looked haunted. Ethan had gotten the message that there was no grief in this household for the loss of Wendell the grouch, but that didn’t mean it was easy to watch a man die slowly.

  “How is he?” Ethan shifted the baby away from the fire.

  “Give her to me.” Audra relieved him of the toddler.

  “Mamamama.” Maggie bounced and whacked Ethan in the face.

  Their hands tangled together as they handed off the little girl. His got very gently pinned between the baby and Audra’s belly. A sudden jerk shocked a gasp out of Ethan, and he only stayed close because he was afraid he’d drop Maggie on her little head.

  His gaze met Audra’s, and something strange happened inside him.

  Deep inside.

  Ethan didn’t let anything touch him inside. Caring deeply about someone was a good way to get your heart torn out.

  “I . . . I felt the baby move.” Ethan couldn’t seem to block that tiny show of life from taking a grip on his heart.

  He didn’t know what it meant. He didn’t understand how it could be true. But it was. That bit of life—well, not bit; she was getting close to having the baby after all—was in there. It was another person.

  “That’s strange to have a baby inside you, isn’t it?” Ethan stayed right there, Maggie blocking him from getting any closer to Audra. He was surprised to find that bothered him.

  “It doesn’t seem so strange.” Audra smiled. Her eyes were usually sad and tired. She was so fine-boned, he worried that she’d snap like a twig. But her eyes flashed blue and strong. Ethan felt every protective instinct roar to life inside him.

  Ethan was only distantly aware of leaning down, slowly closing the distance between him and this delicate, beautiful princess of a woman. The one thought that echoed in his head was that she needed help. She needed him.

  Maggie swatted him in the face again. It woke him from whatever madness had overtaken him.

  Audra’s eyes widened with shock and confusion, and maybe a bit of dawning horror as she realized he’d almost kissed her. A married woman. And he saw clearly that she’d been fully prepared to kiss him back.

  He’d have run screaming from the cabin if he wasn’t afraid he’d drop the little one. “Have you got her?”

  Audra’s pretty blue eyes dropped to Maggie, and she nodded without speaking.

  Ethan felt her hands tighten on her toddler, and he slipped his hands away from her—and her belly—and stepped well away from her—and her lips.

  “I’m . . . uh . . . going to . . . uh . . . go. Somewhere.” Ethan forced himself to meet Audra’s eyes.

  Lucky for him she was currently fascinated with straightening Maggie’s little dress.

  “Hunting.” No, he’d just butchered a deer. But he was cooking it, slowly over a smoky fire, for hours. It didn’t need him to stand there watching. He hoped Audra didn’t know that. “You’ll be okay?”

  Audra looked up. A bit of temper flashed in those pretty eyes. “Yes, I’ll be okay.”

  Her cheeks were pink with embarrassment. Her dress was faded and worn. It looked like her two babies would be too much for her to bear. But she had gumption.

  Ethan thought gumption was probably a mistake for Audra, who clearly needed to be careful with her fragile health. But for better or worse, she had it.

  “You know, Ethan, sometimes it gets really old having everyone treat me like a delicate hothouse flower.”

  Ethan suspected that was the absolute truth. “You seem upset. Why don’t you see if you can get Maggie to take a nap so you can lay down yourself for a few minutes? I think I’ll build you a rocking chair.”

  A growl of frustration surprised Ethan. She sounded a little like a wounded mountain lion. Which was odd because she seemed more the baby-kitten type.

  “I’m not weak! I’ve never been sick a day in my life.”

  “You’re expecting a young ’un and you’ve got another to care for.” He spoke quietly, coaxing, not wanting her to get even more upset. “That’s a lot for any woman.”

  “Stop talking like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I’m equal parts sickly, childlike, and stupid.” Her little pointed chin lifted in the most adorable expression of defiance.

  “Well,” he said carefully, “I don’t think you’re stupid.”

  “Just sickly and childlike, then?” The kittenish mountain lion was getting growly-er by the second.

  “Not
sick and you’re certainly no child.” He wouldn’t have almost kissed her if she’d been either. “I’d say more delicate and very young.”

  “How old are you?”

  Ethan hadn’t thought about his age in years. “I guess twenty-three? Maybe?” Ethan fished around for his smile. He always smiled. Just to make sure no one ever suspected he cared about anything.

  “So am I. So, would you like to sit down, maybe take a nap? Let me go out and finish smoking the deer, then chop more wood so you can rest. After all, you’re very young.”

  “I don’t need to rest.” He frowned and leaned forward, insulted.

  “Well, neither do I.” She leaned right back toward him. “Yes, Maggie is a lot of work, but I’m managing nicely, thank you. Julia takes such good care of me, it’s a wonder she doesn’t tuck me in a crib at night and feed me baby food at mealtime.”

  “Julia’s a bossy little thing, isn’t she?” A few of her orders still stung. But lucky for him, Ethan was used to being bossed around by Rafe.

  The blue fire flashed in Audra’s eyes; then an unexpected laugh escaped from her pretty pink lips. “She certainly is. I love her. I love her more than anyone I’ve ever known. She’s my sister, my best friend, but if I’m not careful, she starts acting like my mother. I . . . I do need help. Or at least I’m very grateful for it. But I’m all right. I don’t need to be treated like you treat Maggie.”

  “Maggie hits me about five times a day. I don’t treat you one bit like I treat her.”

  “In some ways you do. Tell me, Ethan, how many women in the world have a toddler and a baby on the way?”

  Ethan thought that was a dumb question. “You want me to try and guess?”

  “I’ll tell you how many.” Audra took a step toward him, and he wished very badly that she’d stay far away. “Most of them. Pretty much all of them. Only the old ones—and they did it when they were younger, and the ones who are children themselves—and they’ll do it when they’re older. Spinsters don’t. That’s it. And most women end up married whether they like it or not. And none of those many, many mothers get to spend their lives sitting around.”

  His mom did. Ethan’s main memory of his mom was of her sitting in a rocking chair, quiet, head down. Ethan realized Audra was close enough that it would be easy to fetch that kiss he’d almost taken from her.

  Married. She’s married. Remember she’s married.

  Not for long. Wendell doesn’t have much time left.

  Doesn’t matter. For now the woman is married.

  Later, then.

  Later, definitely.

  No, not later. Well, maybe later. No! Definitely not later, not ever.

  One good crack of his head against the wall. Just one. Just to shut his thoughts off and figure out how to smile through this so she knew he didn’t care.

  He couldn’t conjure the smile so he decided to run. Something else he was good at. “I’ll go finish smoking that deer and start tanning the hide. Then I’ll build you a rocking chair. You just take care of things in here by yourself.” He did his best to sound very uncaring about abandoning her. Let her know she was on her own.

  She smiled.

  “But call if you need anything, okay?”

  Her smile twisted into a scowl. “I’ll be fine. But I will call, if I need your help. Now go.”

  She was really cute when she was angry.

  Ethan almost told her that.

  He thought better of it and ran. He had things to do. He had to watch meat smoke. And he had to envy Rafe getting out of here.

  He thought of Audra and suddenly wished he hated this place a whole lot more.

  CHAPTER

  12

  It went pitch-dark.

  Rafe heard footsteps ahead, running in this black tunnel. Was it the man who had moved that rope and trapped Julia in the cavern? It sure could be.

  How many sneaking strangers who liked caves could there be?

  But who? And whoever it was, why did he want to harm Julia?

  It had to be someone brave enough—or crazy enough—to run through a tunnel in the pitch-darkness.

  Or did he have a lantern? He might have been far enough ahead that Rafe wouldn’t have known. Whether he had light or not, running in this tunnel spoke of either crazed recklessness or complete familiarity with this cave. Or both.

  The ground sloped until Rafe was afraid he’d start sliding, fall forever. Inching along, Rafe tested each step, the memory of that eggshell-thin floor in the other cavern haunting him. He kept one hand on the wall to feel if the cave tunnel had any branches he couldn’t see.

  Rafe thought of how long he’d lived in Colorado. He’d have told anyone that he knew the land around his ranch very well. He’d seen this mountain plenty of times—of course, the whole world was mountains in this part of Colorado. The trail he took to town was to the north, so he hadn’t done much riding this direction. But he knew the mountains. And he’d had no idea this one was any different than the others.

  He paused over that thought. What if it wasn’t different? What if there were a lot of mountaintop valleys like this one? Rafe itched to find out. He hadn’t done enough exploring.

  The fading footsteps suddenly stopped.

  Rafe’s hand went to his revolver. He continued on. Maybe there was light ahead. Maybe this tunnel led through the mountain to the outside like the vent they’d entered the valley through.

  Surely that was why the footsteps had stopped, because they’d gone outside, run into grass instead of clattering on stone.

  The light never came. Rafe took each step slower, more cautiously. He had a sudden vision of the cavern floor shattered under Seth’s weight. Rafe took one more step and his toe hit a stone. It bounced, then bounced again, still moving along fast. Then suddenly silence.

  Rafe froze.

  Finally that stone hit a long, long way down. His knees wobbled, and he dropped as the stone bounced.

  The dark of the cave suddenly pressed on him. The cold inside him was crushed by blackness, until he feared the ice would crack open and all his worst, most childish fears would explode free.

  As he fought for control, he heard something that turned him aside from the encroaching panic. Something scratched. A sound so faint he thought he might be imagining it. On his hands and knees, he reached forward to find a ledge, just inches in front of him.

  A ledge he knew dropped off forever. A ledge just in front of the path those running footsteps had taken. How had someone run across this? Impossible. But he’d have heard it if someone had fallen. And he’d come inches from falling himself. Just like so many years ago when Seth had nearly died.

  The shock bowed his head. One more step and he’d have gone over the ledge.

  The pressure of the black pit ground him down, squeezing and crushing. Rafe grimly battled to overcome such weakness.

  Rafe heard that rustling sound again to his left. He reached for it and his hand scraped against a boulder. Or maybe one of those stag-tight things Julia had talked about. But the noise—what was that? He ran his hands around the rock, closing in on the sound by touch . . . and felt a rope.

  A rope that moved. A taut rope that even now someone was using to climb down into the pit.

  Or up.

  The image of Satan erupting out of the underworld, grabbing Rafe, dragging him down, broke what was left of his wavering control. He whirled, still on his knees, leapt to his feet, and ran.

  His throat closed or he’d have shouted with fear. He felt the devil gaining, coming, burning. This was how he’d felt when he abandoned Seth so long ago.

  Rafe slammed into a stone wall and rapped his head so hard he saw stars. Staggering, he barely remained on his feet. He slapped his hand on the tunnel to keep himself in contact with something, anything solid. Running like a coward, racing for a way out of this nightmare.

  Abandoning his brothers to save himself just like before.

  He had to get out. Get out or die.

  It was h
is chance. At last. He fought down the urge to laugh as he inched forward. He’d gotten very good in this cave. Very good. Silent.

  Any bit of sound carried and echoed. A boot sliding on rock. A hand brushing on stone. A hard breath.

  She was making a fair amount of noise chipping on the stone, so he could move more swiftly if he wanted. But he was too smart, too careful. And the man with her was busy running in the wrong direction. Laughter bubbled up, but he fought it. Stopped it in time.

  He’d hidden the horses. Glad now he’d thought of it. He hadn’t expected anyone to come here, not besides his friend, of course. He slowly, silently eased forward, mindful of each step.

  She muttered and chiseled, completely focused on the stone. And she was his path to the money, to success. He might not go back once he had it. Oh, the boss had tentacles that reached a long, long way. But it was only his tracking skills that had gotten him this close. Anyone else the boss sent would never find this place.

  So he might take the money. And this woman was the key to finding it.

  She chiseled. Another step closer. The next step would take him out of the dark. She’d be able to see him, then. He could keep inching along until he was close enough to grab her.

  Surprise her.

  He’d like that. Time now to forget about silence and move fast so she didn’t have a chance to scream and call her guardian back.

  He resisted the urge to laugh and prepared to spring.

  Julia heard thudding footsteps. She dropped her knife as she whirled to face whomever or whatever was coming at her so fast.

  She leaned down and scooped up the only weapon she had, a knife with a two-inch blade.

  Rafe appeared around the bend of the tunnel, and she breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to her chiseling.

  “Now.” He grabbed her arm in midchisel and dragged her after him. “We’re going now.”

  “Rafe, what in the world . . .” She stumbled as he rushed her along, until she was running to keep from being dragged. She couldn’t even see his expression, but she read terrible urgency and hurried to keep up. They reached the horses, and Rafe tore the reins loose from the aspen and lifted her up onto her saddle.