"I feel very embarrassed about it now," said Rose. She rolled her eyes and gave a rueful smile. "If I ever see another margarita again I shall die of shame."
Kayla and Mary Lou began to giggle. Even Hannah gave a muffled snort as she kneaded a huge lump of bread dough, pummelling it with her fists.
"You lot are acting very suspiciously. Are you hiding something from me?"
For some reason, this question set the laughter off again. Once Hannah started to laugh there was no stopping her. She bellowed and began snorting like a pig, which set the other two off again. They fell about in hysterics, slapping their thighs, tears running down their faces.
"Ohhhhhhhhh," laughed Mary Lou.
"Ohhhhhhhh my," laughed Kayla.
It was contagious. Rose began to laugh too without really knowing why. "Come on - tell me what's going on! I demand to know!"
At that moment, the door opened and in walked Gabriel and Dylan, two of the ranch hands.
"Got some coffee going spare for us, Hannah?" grinned Dylan. "Morning, Miss Rose. How's the head?"
"It's fine now thank you for asking. Sheesh - is there anyone round here who doesn't know I have a hangover?!"
"Your head's better than that Tyler dude's head, then," guffawed Gabriel. "He got his head pummelled good and proper. And everyone knows, Miss Rose. You can't keep something like this quiet on the Armstrong ranch."
"Something like what?"
The two ranchers sat at the long pine table opposite Rose. They were both grinning like a pair of idiots.
"Ok, ok - so I got a little tipsy and got myself a hangover. But it isn't that funny, surely?"
"No Miss Rose, it ain’t. But this is," said Dylan.
"What is?" Rose was puzzled.
"Show her, Dylan," encouraged Gabriel.
"Oh yes - I gotta see it again!" squealed Kayla.
"Me too!" said Mary Lou. She threw down her half peeled carrot and rushed over to the table.
"And I need another look," said Hannah. "I haven't laughed so much for years!"
Dylan produced a mobile phone from his pocket. "A buddy of mine sent me this little action-packed video. He sent it to a lot of people. He also put it on YouTube."
"What? Show it to me. Please!"
So Dylan called up the little video and played it back. As Rose watched, she saw Hank with a face like thunder, striding out of Dempsey's Blues Bar. He had hold of Tyler Johnson by the scruff of the neck. Tyler was mouthing off and trying to shake loose but Hank held him in an iron grip. As they approached some parked vehicles, Hank momentarily let go of Tyler. Tyler opened his mouth to protest but said nothing because Hank's right fist shot out and caught him just below the jaw.
There was a loud crunch as Hank's fist found its target. Tyler's eyes opened wide for an instant in a look of shock and surprise, and then he toppled over on to the ground where he lay in an undignified heap. Hank stood over him brandishing his fist, and then he spoke the words which were to become famous the length and breadth of the county.
"Touch my woman again you ugly booger-nosed lard-eating beer-bellied little piece of shit, and I'll ram your teeth down the back of your throat. Get it?"
"Impressive, eh?" said Gabriel. He began to chuckle. "I'm going to learn that phrase."
"That man of yours has gone to the top of the charts in the public estimation," said Dylan. "Tyler Johnson is a low life and he deserved that knock out punch. Now ya have to admit - it was worth the watch, yes?"
Rose blinked. "Booger-nosed what?" she giggled.
"Ugly booger-nosed," corrected Kayla.
"Ugly booger-nosed lard-eating beer-bellied little piece of shit!" sang Mary Lou.
"This is how it goes," said Dylan. He switched on the video again and played back the famous words: 'Touch my woman again you ugly booger-nosed lard-eating beer-bellied little piece of shit, and I'll ram your teeth down the back of your throat. Get it?'"
"That's my man," said Rose happily. "By the way - what's a booger? I'm not sure if we have those in England."
Everyone laughed again. Rose remained in the kitchen for another half hour, enjoying a late breakfast and sobering up with copious amounts of strong black coffee. She had plenty of chores to do for the wedding, but decided to have half an hours ride first in the fresh air.
"It will clear my head," she told Hannah. "It'll blow the cobwebs away."
"Sure will," Hannah agreed. "Sounds like a good plan. See you at lunch. We have home made soup and fresh baked bread, enchiladas and fresh fruit."
"It sounds lovely Hannah. I'll see if I can manage some. See you later."
---oOo---
Rose walked round to the stables and went into Amber's stall.
"Hey girl. Remember me?" Rose stroked Amber's nose. "Want to go out for a gallop?"
The Palomino snorted and tossed her head.
"I'll take that as a yes." Rose reached for the saddle and bridle. "A good long run will do us both good. Oh I detest hangovers!"
Ten minutes later Rose left the ranch and rode past the holding pens and fields of cattle and horses, and on to the trail leading through the ruggedly beautiful landscape that she had grown to love. She headed out towards the stand of majestic cypresses that grew along the river bank. She had no idea that someone had been observing her, and that same someone had been biding his time for an opportunity to catch her alone.
The figure lurking in the shade of the trees smiled thinly. He was a patient man and it seemed his patience had paid off.
"You and I have some unfinished business to attend to, Rosemary Windsor," he muttered. "You'll be sorry by the time I'm through with you, you little whore."
He observed her in the saddle. She was a beautiful woman, and her long dark hair streamed out behind her as she rode. She had a natural grace and poise. He could tell at once that she was a highly competent horsewoman and he was no match for her in that respect. No matter. He had formulated a plan to lure her in, and all he had to do now was put it into action. His infinite patience was about to be rewarded.
---oOo---
Back at the ranch, life continued as normal. Matthew and Nathan were busy bronc breaking and training, Caleb and Mario were checking out the Longhorn herds, and Dylan was demonstrating roping to some of the paying guests. Another party of guests had gone out accompanied by Ryan and Gabriel to hunt dove, quail, coyote and raccoon. Noah and Jacob were applying a fresh coat of paint to the exterior of the guest cabins, while Connor and Hank were out inspecting and mending fences. Isaac was occupied finishing off the renewal of some of the window frames in the cabins.
In the big ranch kitchen Hannah and her two assistant cooks were busy with lunch and advance preparation of food for supper. Ella the housekeeper, together with Rebecca and Faith bustled about doing the laundry and cleaning. The remainder of the paying guests would be leaving tomorrow and they had all the cabins to clean in preparation for the wedding guests, many of whom would be arriving a day or two before the wedding. There was much to be done.
With all the hustle and bustle of activity, no-one realised that Rose didn't show up at lunch time. It did occur to Hannah later in the day, but she shrugged and smiled, thinking that the poor girl had lost her appetite as she must still be feeling hung over. Hank and Connor, working 25 miles away, didn't bother returning to the ranch to eat with the other hands at lunchtime; they had taken food and drink with them.
So it was that Rose's absence was not discovered until supper time. Hank strode down to her studio barn to find it deserted. Her brushes were dry. There was no indication she had even been in the studio today. Once the alarm was raised, a thorough search of the ranch and cabins and associated buildings was made, but there was no sign of Rose.
It was Hannah who remembered Rose saying she was going out for a ride.
"She wanted some fresh air to clear her head. That's what she said. Oh my Lord, I hope she's not run into any trouble."
"So do I," said Hank. This wasn't looking good.
"I saw her ride out on Amber," said Dylan. "I waved to her and she waved back."
"When was that?" asked Hank.
"Around 10 30. I haven't seen her since. Sorry, boss."
Hank glanced at his watch. "We have around three hours before it gets dark."
"We'll come with you," said Dylan. "I'll get the other ranch hands and we'll all go and look for her."
"Thanks. I'll be ready in 10 minutes. I'm going to call the Sheriff first. Bring torches and first aid supplies and flares."
"Yes boss."
Hank hurried away to make the call. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach... a very bad feeling. The feeling persisted.
Six hours later, Rose had not been found and he was anxious beyond belief.
No one got much sleep that night or the night after. Hank was frantic. Amber the Palomino had returned to the ranch and made her way to her stable. There were no traces of blood on her coat or saddle. There were no clues at all as to what could have happened to her rider.
---oOo---
Sheriff Johnson organised another search which proved fruitless. Fears for Rose's safety escalated. Neighbours and townsfolk shared Hank's concern and turned up in droves to help look for Rose. She had been missing for 3 days.
Brenda was in tears. She sobbed on Isaac's shoulder.
"Oh the poor girl. Whatever has happened to her? What if she's badly hurt, or worse - what if she's..." the words stuck in her throat and would not be spoken.
"We must support Hank and be positive and continue to hope," said Isaac. "Everything that can be done is being done."
"She's supposed to be getting married in three days time."
"I know, my love." Isaac hugged her close. His brow was creased with worry.
Hank was like a man possessed. His usually tanned face was pale and gaunt, and his eyes red-rimmed through lack of sleep. He couldn't sit still and do nothing. He paced up and down restlessly like a wild caged beast, and he continually drove out or rode out, looking for her and calling for her. There was no answer save the wind whining mournfully through the tall grasses.
---oOo---
"Well now," said Rose's tormentor. "As it's now been three days since your abduction, I reckon your value has gone up. Half a million dollars? No way - why bother with a paltry half million? Let's go for two million. Are you worth two million dollars to your rich Yankee bastard, Rose?"
Rose stared at him with contempt in her eyes. The filthy gag prevented her from replying. She wanted to spit in his face. Every bone in her body ached. The low life had jumped down from a tree and knocked her off her horse. She had fallen hard and maybe cracked a rib. Each breath was painful and it hurt her to move. Not that she could move very far seeing as how her ankles were roped together, and her hands cuffed behind her back. That was her punishment for trying to escape. But she wouldn't give up trying. Never.
"Thirsty?"
She nodded.
"Too bad," he sniggered as he drank from a bottle of water and didn't offer her any.
Rose swallowed. Her throat burned with thirst and her lips were dry. She was parched. She watched him for a moment. He seemed to be struggling with his conscience. Should he give her a drink, or shouldn't he?
"I'll be kind to you. But no more tricks. Understand?"
Rose nodded, watching as he reached for the bottle and came towards her. Setting the bottle down, he went behind her and undid the gag, then held the bottle to her lips.
Nothing had ever tasted so sweet as that lukewarm bottled water did. Quite a lot was spilled on her neck and chest, but most of it went down her throat. She swallowed it greedily.
"Thank you."
"That's better. I appreciate good manners."
"Please untie me. My fingers are numb and I'm so uncomfortable."
"It won't hurt you to be uncomfortable," he sneered, but reached round anyway and untied her wrists.
Gratefully, she massaged her wrists and fingers trying to restore her circulation.
"I need to go to the bathroom," she told him.
"What, again?"
"Yes."
He sighed in exasperation then untied her ankles. "Go use the bucket. And be quick about it."
It took Rose a few minutes to get herself up. On stiff legs she tottered over the cracked wooden floor and relieved herself behind a screen. It was humiliating, but she no longer cared.
Staggering back to the dirty rug on the floor she had recently vacated, she saw he was putting on his jacket.
"How long are you going to keep me here?"
"As long as I like."
"He'll find me, you know," she said quietly.
"He won't. I keep moving us around. And you have to admit, this place is the best yet. Your Yankee cowboy won't find you. No one will find you here, ten feet underground. You know that."
"He'll find me," she repeated. There was a hint of desperation in her voice.
"He'll only find you if he coughs up $2 million dollars."
"Pete - why are you doing this to me? I don't understand."
He took a few steps towards her and squatted down in front of her. There was an ugly look on his face.
"I'll tell you why. You lived with me for six years. Six years. Don't those years count for anything?"
"Pete - we were in a relationship. YOU were the one who broke it."
"YOU were the one who walked out on me!" he said.
"For fuck's sake, you lying cheating bastard - you were sleeping with my best friend! What the hell did you expect me to do - give you a medal?! And - as I recall, after I caught you both in our bed, I ran out and wandered around the streets in a state of shock, and when I arrived back at the house you had my bags already packed because you had decided to move Gloria in! So please tell me why you think I should want anything to do with you ever again?"
But Pete was unrelenting. He chose to ignore the fact that he was responsible for ending the relationship by having an affair. So what if he had been screwing Rose's best friend? What was important was that he realised too late how much Rose meant to him and he resolved to get her back. When she left York he made enquiries and found her living in a little rented cottage in Lincoln. He failed then to win her back, and was livid when he later found she had left for Texas. He had spent a small fortune getting a private investigator to trace her and give him all the facts. And once he had an idea of what Hank Armstrong was worth, he decided that he could easily live without Rose after all. But there would be a price. The Yank would pay $2 million, and if he didn't... Rose would be left to rot in this place, if she didn't die of heat exhaustion and suffocation first. It sure was hot in this underground space. But it was a great hidey hole.
"I'm leaving you now Rose. I'm going to call that cretinous yank friend of yours and tell him I want $2 million dollars. And if he gives me any hassle, I'll up it to three," grinned Pete. He began to laugh - a strange high pitched laugh. He was becoming increasingly unstable.
"Pete. Please don't leave me here. Please. The air is stale. And it's so hot .. and dark. Please don't leave me in the dark."
Rose tried to keep her voice calm, but there was a little catch in it as the first stirrings of real panic set in. He had previously hidden her in a tumbledown old shack in the woods, and after that had moved her to an abandoned truck. But this place, deep underground, was scary. And dark.
"I'll be kind to you, for old time’s sake. You can have the torch." He deposited it in her right hand, grabbing her left hand to secure her wrist to a huge piece of timber.
"You don't have to do this. Don't tie me up."
"We don't want you getting any more ideas about escaping now, do we?" He grinned. He felt a heady euphoric power. He had full control of her. He tied her ankles as well. She wasn't going anywhere.
Rose gripped the torch in her free hand and stared as Pete climbed up the steep makeshift ladder and swung himself up onto the grass. After that there was a creaking and a rustling as he shoved the old timber boards back
into place over the aperture, and covered the cracks with branches and grass.
Inside, in the blackness, Rose began to cry. Despair rose within her, enveloping her in a sense of hopelessness tinged with a mounting fear. She gripped the torch tightly, wanting desperately to switch it on, yet knew that she must use it sparingly to save the battery. So she tried to calm herself and think of Hank. She clung on to the image of him inside her head, and imagined those blue eyes twinkling at her and his strong arms hugging her to him in a powerful embrace.
"Oh Hank," she whispered forlornly. "Hurry up and find me. I don't know how long I'm going to last in this hell hole."
She closed her eyes and then opened them again, but the effect was the same. A thick black darkness pulsed around her in the small underground room. It was hot... so hot. Beads of perspiration dripped from her brow. She knew she was becoming dehydrated. There was a little water left in the plastic bottle that Pete had left behind, but although she knew approximately where it was, she couldn't reach it.
Her spirits sank yet again and her head lolled on her chest as she sat in a half doze in the cloying darkness. Her last thought before drifting off into sleep was Hank. He was holding her tight and rocking her in his arms, and everything was right again.
---oOo---
Pete returned to where he had hidden the hire car. He got in it and drove off, heading into town where he went into a Mexican restaurant and ordered beef and bean burrito's and a couple of beers. He enjoyed a leisurely meal and then made a call to the Armstrong ranch. To his intense frustration, Hank Armstrong was out, and so was his father, Isaac. Annoyed, Pete declined to leave a message. He hung up and ordered another drink, determined to try again in another half hour or so.
Hank, meanwhile, ate a hurried sandwich without actually tasting any of the food and then picked up the keys for the truck. Silent and grim faced, he headed towards the door.
"Wait, son. I'm coming with you," said Isaac. "Some of the others will too. There's plenty of room in the back of the truck."
Hank nodded. He couldn't trust himself to speak. He was close to tears and wretched to the core. Something bad had happened. He had to find her. He had to.
Twenty minutes later the big truck headed out of the Armstrong ranch. Tink had snuck in to the back and had settled down next to Connor. The dog knew something was wrong but hadn't quite figured out what it was. He picked up on the tension and the worry and he didn't like it. He didn't like it at all. He whined softly, and Connor reached down to pat him.
Love on a Ranch Box Set Page 10
