by Barb Han
“Where on Farmer’s Mill Road?” Ryder asked twenty minutes into the drive.
“Remember the corn maze entrance?” she asked.
Ryder nodded.
“We used to go there when I was little,” she said. A spark of hope lit that her mother wasn’t completely gone. Not if she’d mentioned the mill. The last night with her mother had Faith concerned.
There was a small gravel parking lot at the mill and no other cars.
“We must’ve beaten her here,” Faith said, shivering against the cold as she stepped down from the cab.
“She wouldn’t necessarily recognize my truck. If she knows something, she’ll want to be cautious,” Ryder said, catching up to her.
“Good point.” Faith walked toward the entrance to the maze. It was too cold for corn stalks but the wooden entrance was clearly marked.
“Faith.” Her mother stepped from the shadows. “Is that you?”
“I brought Ryder O’Brien with me,” Faith said as her mother moved toward her. When she came into the light, Faith could see the bags under her mother’s eyes. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
They embraced. Her mother felt cold and bony. She was like hugging a skeleton, Faith thought, and there was an emotion present in her eyes that made Faith shiver.
“What’s he doing here?” her mother asked. Was that disapproval or disdain in her voice?
Faith started to explain when she felt something hard, something metal press against her ribs.
“No one is going to mess this up for me, you hear?” Mother said and her eyes were wild. “I’ve lived with that man for thirty-seven years and I’ve had to endure humiliation after humiliation. Why couldn’t you just leave this alone, Faith? It didn’t have to be this way. Your father has to pay for what he’s done to me. To us.”
“You don’t want to hurt me, Mother.” Faith didn’t hide her panic as the pieces clicked together in her mind. Had her mother used and then set up the Hattie boys? Had them shot? She wished there was a way to signal Ryder, who was standing by his truck, giving them privacy. “What have you done, Mother?”
“Everything’s spinning out of control and you need to stop digging around.” There was a desperate quality to her mother’s voice.
“Put the gun down, Mother.”
The snick of the bullet being engaged in the chamber dropped Faith’s heart. Her mother was serious?
Ryder must’ve heard because he put his hands in the air as he leaned against his truck. “No one has to get hurt.”
“Except maybe they do now because you two wouldn’t leave things alone,” Jesse said from the opposite direction.
Faith followed the sound of her brother’s voice until she saw him. The barrel of her father’s favorite Smith & Wesson was trained on Ryder’s chest. Reality struck. Was he planning to set up their father for Ryder’s murder? For hers?
“You?” Shock didn’t begin to cover Faith’s emotions at that moment. Her brother and her mother working together against her father? “What are you doing with Dad’s gun?”
“That’s right,” Jesse said. “You should’ve listened to our warning instead of dragging the sheriff into it.”
Chapter Twelve
“Where’s Nicholas?” Faith managed to grind out through the whirlwind of emotions that had to be rushing through her. Ryder could almost see all the neurons that had to be firing in Faith’s head with the news.
The Hattie brothers had been worried about a she. Karen McCabe.
All Ryder could focus on was the gun pressed against Faith’s ribs. His heart stuttered at the thought of it going off. At point-blank range, Faith didn’t stand a chance. He had to figure out a way to direct Karen McCabe’s gun toward himself instead. He’d take a bullet before he allowed anything to happen to Faith.
“Move over there against the truck,” Karen McCabe said to Faith. She took a few bewildered steps toward him before he could reach out to her. He tucked her behind him as best he could, shielding her with his six-foot-three-inch frame.
“Be careful,” Ryder warned. “That thing might accidentally go off. You don’t want that. You don’t want to hurt your daughter.”
“I might,” Mrs. McCabe said, and her voice had a vacant quality to it.
“It was you all along, wasn’t it? You sent those men to the fishing cabin to scare me,” Faith said.
Her mother cackled.
“You didn’t answer my question. Where is he?” Faith asked with a mix of sadness, anger and hysterics in her voice. She’d underestimated her father, and Ryder prayed she wouldn’t make the same mistake with her mother or brother.
“I don’t know. Shaw was in charge of that part,” Mrs. McCabe said. Her voice was unsteady. She could be on heavy medication. A combination of alcohol and prescription drugs would dim her judgment. Was there anything Ryder could do while Faith was talking, distracting them? He’d had no idea the depth to which the McCabe family would go until that moment—the one where a gun was pointed at one of their own and neither was trying to talk the other one down.
She continued, “Nicholas was only supposed to disappear for a couple of days. Your father was supposed to pay or risk his bastard son being exposed. I thought he’d pay for a son.”
“How could you do this to him? He’s just a boy and he’s good,” Faith said.
“He was supposed to be my salvation.” Mrs. McCabe was stone-faced. She was too far away for Ryder to make a move for the gun. With Jesse twenty feet to the other side, he’d get off a shot before Ryder could reach her.
Damn.
His shotgun was inside his truck. He couldn’t get to it even if there was enough distance.
“I never thought I’d see you with an O’Brien,” her mother sneered. “We’re not so different, Faith. You’ll do anything you have to in order to get out of the family, too.”
“Ryder’s better than any one of the men in our family,” Faith retorted. “Except for Nicholas. He’s good. And you’ve ruined that, too.”
This wasn’t a good time for her to defend the O’Briens. He shifted position, effectively blocking her line of sight with her mother. He knew full well just how high her emotions would be riding, had to be riding the minute she realized how quickly her mother would likely pull the trigger.
“It’s not too late,” Ryder hedged. He needed to dig around a little bit and figure out what was going on inside the woman’s head if they were going to have a chance of getting out of there alive. “If you let us go and tell us where Nicholas is, you’ll never have to see your daughter again. No harm. No foul.”
An insidious laugh tore from Mrs. McCabe’s throat. “I already said that was Shaw’s part, and he couldn’t do that right. I should’ve known better than to involve those idiots. They messed everything up. I can’t go back now.”
“I’m pregnant,” Faith said, and Ryder didn’t like the fact that she was playing that card. Based on her mother’s reactions so far, she didn’t care.
“I know,” she said, and it was the first time her voice faltered.
Faith was left speechless, but recovered quickly. “How?”
“I heard you throwing up in your bathroom countless times, Faith. I had four kids, remember? I know the signs of pregnancy when I see them. But I didn’t know who the father was until I had you followed,” her mother said, and her tone was shaking. Maybe Faith’s gamble to mention the baby was paying off.
“Mom, don’t do it,” Faith pleaded. “Don’t hurt us. I’m carrying your grandchild. It doesn’t have to be like this. If you’re doing all this to hurt Dad, I’m fine with it. He doesn’t care about any of us. I’m not the enemy. He is. I’m on your side. I’ve always been on your side.”
A moment of hesitation crossed Mrs. McCabe’s features. She looked to Jesse, who shot her an unsympathe
tic look as he stepped toward them.
“It doesn’t matter. We threatened to kill her if he didn’t pay and we can’t let her walk out of here. He can’t think she’s alive or we’ll get nothing,” her brother said.
“Now you’re using me as a pawn?” Shock reverberated through her.
“We’ll disappear. You can tell him whatever you want about what happened to us.” Ryder positioned Faith farther on his right; Jesse was to his left. Mrs. McCabe was dead center in front of them, still too far away to make a move. Maybe if Ryder could get around the right side of the truck with Faith...no, it was too risky. They had two shooters, and he and Faith were unarmed. One of them was likely to get off a decent shot at this range. His money was on Jesse.
“I can’t. I have to find my brother,” Faith said.
“He’s not your family,” Mrs. McCabe said.
“Yes. He is. How could you do this to us?” Faith said, and there was so much torment in her voice. “How could you use me? And I can’t believe what you’ve done to the Hattie brothers and that girl. Are you planning to kill me, too?”
“What?” Mrs. McCabe seemed confused.
“The Hattie brothers and that girl,” Faith said. Ryder squeezed her hand, warning her not to continue. “They’re dead. They were shot.”
Her mother’s gaze intensified on Jesse as she let out a sob. “We should’ve just taken you when we had the chance. I thought we could warn you but your brother was right. You just won’t let up. Let me tell you something. I won’t end up with nothing from that man. I can’t. I deserve so much more, and he won’t give me a thing if I leave him. I tried all those years ago when you left for college and he tracked me down like I was some kind of animal and he was a hunter. He threatened to destroy me. And I’ve been waiting so long to have the last say. But you couldn’t leave it alone, could you?” Her gaze locked onto Faith. “I didn’t want it to turn out like this, Faith. I’m sorry.”
“You have options, Mom. It doesn’t have to be this way. I have a place where you can hide. I’ve been putting money aside in an offshore account. Dad doesn’t know. You can have it. You can have everything. I set up a new identity and bought a house. If this is about money, you don’t have to do this. I’ll take care of you. It’s perfect. You can have everything, all of it. I won’t tell a soul.” Faith sounded desperate, like she was pleading not just for her life but the life of her unborn child.
Mrs. McCabe looked tentatively to Jesse again. Faith was making ground. And yet her words were a punch to Ryder’s solar plexus. In all the time they’d been together over the past couple of days she hadn’t mentioned anything about a fake identity or a new life. And now it made perfect sense as to why she’d been holding back with him. She’d planned to walk away from the start. She wouldn’t have even told him about the baby had she not needed his help. She’d been honest enough about that. But he’d believed that they’d made progress toward some kind of future involving a relationship. Just what that relationship would’ve been, he had no idea. So, she’d been using him the whole time to find Nicholas. And then she’d planned all along to disappear?
No need to jump to conclusions. One conversation could clear all this up.
“We can’t risk it. He’s a liability,” Jesse said, glancing at Ryder. Then he fired his weapon.
Ryder didn’t feel the bullet hit his arm as he pushed Faith back a step and toward the side of the truck. His knee buckled and he landed hard on the gravel.
Faith burst out from behind him and made a beeline toward her mother, who had raised her pistol.
From this position, there was nothing Ryder could do to stop Mrs. McCabe, but her shaky hands would help ensure an inaccurate shot. It was Jesse that Ryder had to focus on. Another step toward him and Jesse was close enough to grab. Ryder scrambled onto his knees and then flew toward Jesse, tackling him at the ankles. Jesse came down hard, his shoulder slamming into the gravel, his hand opening. The gun skidded across the gravel drive.
Blood was everywhere. Ryder needed to move fast before he lost too much, and, even worse, consciousness.
At least the gun was too far away for Jesse to grab it. He was clawing his way toward it when Ryder threw himself on top of Jesse. His six-foot-three-inch frame gave him an advantage over the smaller McCabe. However, all McCabe boys knew how to fight.
Jesse whirled around, knocking Ryder off him and onto the gravel. He sucker punched Ryder’s bad arm, causing pain to shoot up his arm. Ryder sucked in a burst of air, dug deep and landed a hard fist to Jesse’s chin. His head snapped back. Ryder grabbed his throat using his one good hand.
Jesse wriggled out of Ryder’s grasp with the aid of a knee to Ryder’s groin.
Coughing, wincing in pain, Ryder managed to grab Jesse’s thigh. He battled fatigue, fighting to stay alert.
Jesse fired off a punch, landing it in the middle of Ryder’s chest. Didn’t help the breathing situation, and blood loss was beginning to be an issue. Ryder blinked blurry eyes as Jesse scored a fist to his face.
* * *
“I’M SORRY, BABY, but I can’t go back.”
“He doesn’t know it’s you. He’ll never tie this back to you and Jesse,” Faith offered.
“Faith will tell him or the sheriff.” Jesse grunted. “If she leaves here, it’s over for us.”
“Oh, baby. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” Her mother hesitated for a split second and then fired a shot.
Faith was close enough to capitalize on her mother’s moment of hesitation. She managed to knock her mother’s arm, causing the shot to go wide. Faith pushed her mother and the gun tumbled toward the ground.
A sweep of her mother’s ankles had the woman on the ground, facedown. Her mother was still frail and Faith had always been the opposite, strong and capable. She’d do anything to save her child.
“Where’s my brother?” Faith asked, using her knee to force her mother to stay on the ground, praying that Ryder was holding his own. She didn’t dare risk turning away from her mother, even for a second. “You have to have some idea. Where would they have taken him?”
Her mother reached around for the gun.
“I’m sorry, Faith. I never intended for anything to happen to you. Neither did your brother,” her mother said, trying to squirm out of Faith’s grip.
It didn’t matter how sorry her mother was, or her brother. Either one of them would kill Faith in a heartbeat if she gave them the upper hand. They’d already proved that. Her mother was so lost.
No way would Faith allow her mother to hurt her child.
And Ryder? She could only hope that he was okay. She’d heard the gunshot and half expected to see blood running down her shirt, surprised when it didn’t. She prayed that bullet had missed Ryder—the man she loved.
“Ryder,” she shouted without taking her eyes off her mother.
By now, Faith was straddling her mother and holding her hands down. She couldn’t check to see if Ryder was okay, and her heart pounded against her chest so hard she thought it might explode. Nothing could happen to him.
“Tommy’s on his way.” Ryder’s voice sent a wave a comfort through Faith as he dropped to her side and secured her mother with flex-cuffs. “Joshua left a couple of these in my truck the last time he borrowed it.”
Faith glanced around to see her brother on his side, his hands flex-cuffed behind his back.
Ryder was breathing heavy, and when she looked at him she saw blood everywhere.
He was sitting on his heels, over her mother, and she panicked when she couldn’t see the source of his blood.
“You’re shot,” Faith said.
“Yep.”
She made a move toward him but he pulled back. Fear assaulted her that he was protecting her from seeing how bad his injuries were.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
“No. I think I’m fine, actually. Just shaken up,” Faith said. He didn’t make eye contact.
It didn’t take long for a deputy to arrive.
“I’m so sorry, Faith,” her mother said, looking just as lost and alone as she had the other night. Tears streaked her cheeks. “I never intended for any of this to happen. For any of this to go so far.”
Ryder was leaning against the back of a cruiser, an EMT at work on his arm. Faith waited until he was done.
“I’d still advise you to go to the hospital,” the EMT said to Ryder as she approached.
“I’ll swing over when I get a chance,” Ryder said before offering a handshake. “Still got work to do.”
Tommy had arrived and he was standing next to Ryder.
“Nicholas could be anywhere,” she said once the EMT walked away. “He might die from dehydration.”
“Braxton County Sheriff’s office is working on it,” Tommy said. “You can ride with me. I’ll wait for you in my vehicle.”
He nodded toward Ryder as he walked away and Faith wondered what that was all about. The two had been talking and she figured she was about to find out. Based on Ryder’s stony expression, it wasn’t going to be good for her. Faith only cared about a few people: Ryder, Nicholas and her baby. And now, Celeste. Two of those could be gone forever.
Ryder leaned against the bumper of his truck, fixed his gaze on a point in the barren cornfield.
“How’s your arm?” she asked for lack of anything better to say.
He didn’t answer, didn’t budge.
“You were planning to leave when we found him, weren’t you?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said honestly, “but—”
“I can’t.” He pushed off the bumper and walked away. There was no doubt in her mind that he meant those two words.
Faith had lost Ryder. Nicholas was out there—somewhere—going to die if they didn’t find him. Her family was a mess. Her mom and brother were going to jail or a psych ward. And her father, the real criminal in all this, was a free man. There was no one left in the world that Faith trusted. Well, except for Ryder, and she’d messed that up royally. She couldn’t blame him. McCabes were toxic and he was right to walk away.
