Eventually the truck slowed to a crawl and then stopped completely, the engine silent. Cindy gulped. She had hoped to slip out of the truck unobserved, but now there was a real danger that the occupants of the other vehicles behind would see her.
She breathed a sigh of relief as the other two vehicles pulled up either side of the truck. Seizing the moment, she clambered down and sprinted a few yards to the left, flinging herself to the ground behind a bush. Laying flat on her tummy she watched as men got out of the vehicles. Engines were stilled and headlights switched off. The half moon was just bright enough for her to identify one of the men. Luke.
It was unmistakably Luke. She recognised his fringed suede jacket and the familiar battered black hat with a cattleman crown crease and a four inch brim. His face was hidden in shadow, pierced by a pair of penetrating green eyes. Cindy didn't want to believe it, even now, but there he was, thick as thieves with a band of cattle rustlers. She listened as he gave orders to three of the men and watched as those three sprinted ahead with wire cutters. She watched as four men from the other vehicle began erecting a temporary cattle pen.
Voices carried clearly on the still night air. They were talking about getting the unbranded calves plus two dozen cows branded with a turkey track on their left hip - in the morning these would be re branded over the original mark prior to being sold on at auction. From the conversation, Cindy realised that this was not some one-off job, but part of a well-organised operation on a large scale. Hundreds of cattle were being stolen tonight from different ranches and Jake Swain was all set to make thousands of dollars.
And then it happened. The worst thing ever... the unmistakably shrill ring of Cindy's cell phone rang out. There was an immediate stunned silence as all the assembled men stopped in their tracks and looked in her direction. And then all hell broke loose.
"Oh shit!" Cindy was panic stricken. She fumbled for her phone. It identified Isaac as the caller. Bad timing. Very bad timing. Oh Lordy. What the hell do I do now? There was nothing to do but run. She had a head start and if she was quick, she could maybe outrun her pursuers and find somewhere to hide until it was safe to move again. It was some sort of plan. It would have to do.
Tossing down the phone, Cindy got to her feet and ran just as fast as her legs could carry her. A shout went up from the men as they watched her sprint. Recovering quickly from their surprise, two of them set off in immediate pursuit.
"It's a woman!"
"Get her!"
But Jake Swain narrowed his eyes in anger and disgust. "Ain't having my operation stalled by some crazy bitch." His hand went to the gun at his hip. He swiftly drew the weapon from the holster and raised his hand. Cindy's cream top was highly visible in the moonlight. "I'll get you, bitch," said Jake as he flicked the catch, aimed, and fired at the moving target.
The gunshot tore through the night. It found it's intended target. As Cindy went down, she screamed. One word. A name.
"Luke!"
Luke froze. Hearing his name and that heart wrenching cry, his blood turned to ice in his veins as shock and horror enveloped him, filling him with dread and a terrible gut-wrenching fear. What in God's name is she doing here? Is she hurt bad? Is she... oh God, is she dead?
"CINDY!" he bellowed. "I'm coming, hon. I'm coming!" He surged forwards frantically. Nothing mattered except Cindy. She'd got herself shot and it was all his fault.
Jake Swain snarled at Luke. "What?! You're in on this? You talked, Daniels? You bring your bitch and put the entire operation at risk."
Jake lumbered forward, but Mario Machuta was closer to Luke. He shot out with his right fist and felled Luke with one effortless blow. The sound of iron hard knuckle impacting on flesh was clearly heard.
"Kill the bastard," spat Jake. "I've no further use for him."
There came another sound. The sickening sound as Luke fell, smashing his head onto a jagged rock. Mario bent down to assess the damage.
"It's done," he said dismissively, delivering a kick at Luke's prone form.
Jake Swain glared at the assembled men. "Take a good long hard look. This is what happens to people who can't be trusted. Understood?"
Several faces stared back at him. Some heads nodded in agreement. Other men were too stunned to speak - many of them liked and respected Luke Daniels. Rustling always carried a risk, but this - going down at the hands of the boss before having chance to offer up some explanation - this was unexpected and it made a few of them uncomfortable. Stealing cows was one thing but gunning down and killing was another.
"I said - understood?!" yelled Jake. His face was flushed with anger.
"Yes boss," came the response.
"Right," snapped Jake. "Get moving. Y'all got work to do."
---oOo---
Cindy was floating. It was a pleasant, heady sensation. She wanted to carry on floating, but something was nagging her. A little voice in her head was speaking to her. She didn't want to listen. In her unconscious state she was unaware of the two men standing above her.
"Leave her. She's not going anywhere."
"She'll have bled to death by morning."
Their voices faded as they moved away. Cindy was in no pain. She was safe and snug and comfortable in a little cocoon. But that darned voice inside her head kept telling her she had to wake up because something bad had happened to Luke. She had to get help. She had to save him. Time ceased to exist. She had no clear idea of how long she had lain there. Gradually, she began to focus, and with the awareness came pain - a terrible pain in her shoulder. She moaned, and struggled to sit up. The pain knifed into her. It was so fierce she almost blacked out. She put a hand to her injured shoulder. Her hand felt sticky. Blood. She was bleeding. But that didn't matter right now. She had to get help.
And so Cindy crawled on her hands and knees; every movement was agony. But curiously there was a small part of her that was entirely rational. Her inner voice insisted she keep moving and function as best she could, and she kept telling herself to keep calm, and focus. She looked for Luke. There was no sign of him. Where could he be? What had they done with him? Was he badly hurt? Was he...? She refused to give shape to the thought that he may even be dead.
In that moment, Cindy realised she was bleeding profusely and didn't have much time before she passed out. She had to be strong. She had to make the right decision. There was no more time to look for Luke, and she was in no condition herself to help him. The only way she could help him was by getting out of here to raise the alarm. She must find the Sheriff and get a medic out here.
The rustlers were occupied herding the stolen cows. The vehicles were unattended. Cindy dragged herself over to the nearest one. They won't be expecting this, Cindy told herself. They think I'm dead. Hell - I'll show those bastards Cindy Frances Spencer, soon to be Daniels, isn't dead yet!
With a superhuman effort she climbed into the driver's seat. Mercifully the keys were in the ignition. She breathed a silent prayer and gave thanks as she turned the key. It wouldn't be wise to switch on the lights yet, not until she had got off the track and back onto open road. She shoved the vehicle into reverse and the movement caused so much pain she felt she would throw up. For some reason, her hands were shaking. She couldn't keep them still.
You're in shock. But you'll be okay. Turn the vehicle round. Keep calm. Back it up a little. That's it. Now put it into drive and go. Go! Go! Before they realise you've stolen one of their vehicles.
Cindy whimpered in pain as she bounced along the bumpy track. It seemed to go on interminably. She was thankful for the shimmer of light cast by the half moon - the rustler's moon - that lit her way. Glancing through the rear view mirror, she exhaled slowly. There was no sign of pursuit. Just a little further on and she would reach the road.
Cindy fought off the dizziness that threatened to topple her. Her body screamed out in pain. Her teeth had begun to chatter. Hurry! Hurry! said her inner voice. Here's the road. Switch on your lights now and put your foot down. Drive!
So what was it, this thing, this strange feeling? It was a premonition. In that brief moment as she was staring ahead at the road, a picture came unbidden into her head. It was a picture of a kindly-looking grey haired man in his sixties, and with him was a woman of maybe the same age or a little younger. She had beautifully expressive hazel eyes, and rich brown hair flecked with intricate silver thread at the temples. The couple were sitting out on the porch, drinking and talking. The man wanted to go to bed as it was getting really late, but the woman wouldn't have it. 'No Art. Not yet. Not yet,' she kept saying. She put down her glass and got to her feet, pacing up and down on the porch like an agitated lioness. And then quite suddenly she stopped, turned, and stared at the empty road.
'What is it, Rebecca?'
'She's coming,' whispered his wife.
'Who is coming?' Art was puzzled. Yet he had seen his wife like this before. She had little flashes, as she called them - brief visions of things that hadn't yet happened. Premonitions. Looks like this is one of them, he mused.
'She's hurt, Art. She's hurt real bad.' Rebecca's face creased with worry and concern. 'She needs us. We won't fail her.'
The image shimmered and faded. And then Cindy knew. She was in San Marcos, and her grandparents, Art and Rebecca Bridgewater were nearby and they were waiting for her. They would help. The thought gave her a strength she never knew she possessed. Just a little further. Take a left, then a right... keep going... nearly there... And there they were... two figures standing side by side on the porch.
Cindy jammed on the brake. She managed to get out of the vehicle but her legs wouldn't work; they refused to hold her up. Then she felt hands touching her... holding her. Words were spoken. The words blurred into an indiscernible background fuzz. They were kind, her grandparents, she saw the warmth and goodwill flow from their eyes before the darkness took hold and whisked her away into blessed oblivion.
---oOo---
Isaac picked up the phone. After listening to what Nathan had to say about Luke, he felt decidedly uneasy. Connor had a nose for sniffing out an approaching thunderstorm but he, Isaac, had an equally efficient and tried and tested nose for sniffing out trouble, and right now his instincts were screaming that there was trouble. Big trouble. So he acted on his instincts, and dialled the number for Sheriff Johnson's office.
Tyler Radack, the Deputy Sheriff answered the call. "You just missed him, Isaac. What can I do for you, bud?"
Isaac hesitated. He frowned. Really, there was no reason why he shouldn't speak to Tyler about this, but something held him back. "It's nothing. It can wait until tomorrow, thanks," he said, whilst resolving to call Sheriff Johnson at his home.
"Come on Isaac, out with it," persisted Tyler.
"I said it can wait until tomorrow," repeated Isaac. His frown deepened.
"It must be important for you to call the Sheriff's office. I'm the Deputy - so whatever business you got with Sheriff Johnson is my business too."
"You're wrong there boy." Isaac allowed himself a brief smile, knowing that 'boy' would infuriate the cocky young deputy. "There's nothing for you to concern yourself about. This is a personal matter between me and the Sheriff."
Isaac hung up then, leaving a hostile and thwarted Tyler Radack fuming on the other end of the line. Brenda walked into Isaac's study, perched on the end of his desk and gave him a hug.
"Everything ok, honey?"
"That kid's got a real attitude problem," growled Isaac. He had never taken to Tyler, but couldn't explain why. Now he knew. He simply didn't trust him. "No, I don't think everything's ok at all, princess." He quickly filled his wife in on the facts. "I'm phoning Sheriff Johnson at home. I'll speak to the organ grinder, not the monkey."
Isaac fidgeted, drumming the fingers of one hand on the desk as he held the phone to his ear. The phone beeped continually; it was making an engaged signal. "Line's busy. I'll hang up and try again." He did so. Nothing had changed. "Damn. Still busy."
"I think I know why. It's his wife's night for phoning their daughter in New York. She'll be on the line an hour at least. Tell you what - we'll drive over to his place. Come on."
"We?" Isaac raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, we. I'm coming with you, Isaac Armstrong, and you're not going to stop me. I like Cindy and I like Luke. If he's up to anything I need to warn Cindy - the girl's besotted with him, or haven't you noticed?"
"Oh I've noticed alright." Isaac resolved to tell Brenda about Luke's midnight excursions to Cindy's room, but maybe now was not a good time.
"Give me a minute. I'll just let Cindy know we're nipping out for an hour or so."
Brenda left the study and hurried upstairs. A few minutes later she came down again. "Cindy's not in her room. I'll see if I can find her."
While Brenda searched the ranch, Isaac went to the stable. He suddenly had a hunch that if Cindy was missing, then Savannah would be missing too. He was right. Savannah's stall was empty.
Twenty minutes later, Isaac and Brenda Armstrong pulled up outside Sheriff Johnson's place and banged loudly on the front door.
---oOo---
Cindy opened her eyes. She felt groggy. Looking round the room, she frowned and sat up in bed, yelping at the pain in her shoulder.
"Good morning," said a white clothed figure. "How are you feeling, Cindy?"
"Sore. Confused. Are you a nurse?"
"I am indeed. My name's Amy and I've been looking after you." Amy bustled about and looked at Cindy's chart. "I'll just check your blood pressure and temperature again," she smiled. "You'll be sore for a week or so, but the bullet made a clean exit, you'll be pleased to hear."
"Bullet? Exit?" repeated Cindy stupidly. "Oh my God - have I been shot?! Oh - I have! Oh shit, it hurts..." Her voice tailed off as thoughts began to whirl around in her head. She began to remember. "Nurse - Luke - we have to find Luke! Quickly. He needs help. I have to get out of here!"
"You'll do no such thing," said a familiar voice. "You'll stay right here and do as you're told for once."
Cindy stared at the figure in front of her. The figure with it's head wrapped up in a big white bandage. The familiar green eyes flashed as his mouth curved up at the corners. He smiled. That smile conveyed a thousand words.
"LUKE!" she squealed. "Is it you?! Yes - it IS you! Are you hurt? You must be, with that great big bandage wrapped round your head. Lord - you look like an Egyptian Mummy. How did you get here? How did I get here? Is this a hospital - I suppose it must be. Ohhhhh... Luke. You don't know how glad I am to see you. Luke, I was so scared... and worried."
Cindy burst in to tears. Luke strode towards her bedside and carefully hugged her.
"I know you two have lots to talk about," said nurse Amy. "So I'll tell you what we'll do." She stuck a thermometer in Cindy's left ear then hooked her up to a piece of hospital equipment on wheels. "I'm going to do your observations. And then I'm going to get you tea and toast because you must be ready for something." She deftly made a note of Cindy's blood pressure. "Good. Getting back to normal. Have a chat with your friend here - I'll be back in twenty minutes."
"I don't suppose you could make that 30 minutes, could you?" Luke looked pleadingly at the nurse.
"Not a minute more!" Amy smiled and left the room, closing the door softly behind her.
<
br /> There were tears in Luke's eyes as he stroked Cindy's hair. "You just wait until you're better - I'm so going to tan your tush."
"How come? YOU are the one in trouble - BIG trouble, Luke Daniels. You're a cattle rustler. Don't deny it. I've seen you. I followed you the other night and..."
"You WHAT?!"
"It's true. I followed you. I saw what you were doing... and then tonight... or was it last night?"
"Last night."
"I went into town on my own and I was going to look for Jake Swain and his gang, because I thought they'd lead me to you - and then I could have saved you... persuaded you to give yourself up or something... but I overheard two men talking about the big job and so I hid in the back of the truck. Lord - it stunk awful. Do I still smell of cow?" Cindy paused, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "Ugh - yes! Will you bring me some deodorant in as soon as you can? Well anyway, I rode in the back for ages and when I eventually got out my damn phone rang and they saw me and I... I heard a gun shot. Then I fell down. It didn't hurt straight away. But I was so scared. I shouted you and I heard you call my name and tell me you were coming... and then nothing. When you didn't come, I knew something bad had happened. Oh your poor head. Does it hurt?"
Cindy finally stopped her ramblings and paused for breath. She looked up at Luke expectantly.
"Oh my love - yes, it hurts, but I'm all expertly stitched up and I'll live. You repeatedly put yourself in danger, you little minx."
"But..."
"Hear me out, Cindy. I'm no cattle rustler. I'm a special ranger with the Cattle Raisers Association. I'm usually based up at Fort Worth but I've been working this area undercover for about six months. We've had our eye on Jake Swain and his cronies for a long time, but had no concrete evidence to charge him, until now. Aside from that, we got wind that he was planning 'the big one' so deliberately let things run until then, so that we could trawl the net wide to catch the maximum number of people involved - and believe me, there were a hell of a lot of arrests last night, including some high-ranking officials."
Love on a Ranch Box Set Page 20
