Authors: Janette Kenny
Cowboy Come Home (18 page)
He took a step toward her. “Yep, whoever won you won both ranches. You passed old Kurt over for March. With him gone, I stood a chance of being the next in line.”
How could he think that she would’ve married him? But looking into his mean eyes she knew that’s exactly what he had thought. Why he had tried to eliminate Trey.
He was the reason she had lost her baby. And now he was back.
Despite the temperature that steadily climbed with the rising sun, a deadly chill slithered over her skin.
“Get off my land,” she said, barely able to stand the sight of the man who’d cost her so much grief.
“Aim to do just that.” Ned pulled his gun and leveled it on her, his eyes cold and filled with malice. “With you.”
“No,” she said, filling her lungs with air, ready to scream.
“Go on and holler,” he said. “I’d just as soon plug March now than later.”
And that silenced her as nothing else could. Because she knew Ned wouldn’t hesitate to kill Trey.
“Damn you,” she said.
He laughed and came toward her, his gun leveled on her. “I’ll have you begging before this is over.”
She kept backing up. “I’d sooner die first.”
“Fine. I’ll shoot you,” he said. “But know that when you’re dead, I’ll go after March. I’ll stake him out on the desert this time. Skin the sonofabitch. I ain’t leaving until I know he’s dead.”
Defeat sucked the steel from her spine. He’d do it. Maybe not exactly like he said, but he’d make Trey suffer.
Trey had already come close to dying because of her. She wouldn’t put him through it again.
“Daisy!”
Her gaze jerked to the adobe and the tall cowboy standing outside it. He was looking up toward the knoll, right at her and Ned. She didn’t want to guess what was going through his mind.
Trey started toward them, his long legs eating up the distance. The click of a hammer being cocked snapped her gaze back to Ned.
“Get on your horse,” Ned said, aiming his revolver at Trey. “Do it now or I shoot him.”
“You kill him now and I have nothing to lose,” she said, knowing the risk she took calling his bluff. “Holster your gun and let’s ride.”
He stared at her a long moment, then cracked a smile and holstered his gun. “All right. He lives. For now, anyway.”
She turned and walked down the other side of the knoll to where two horses waited. Ned’s gelding and her mare. He’d planned this well, just as he had in the hayloft.
Yes, she’d ride off with him now. And she’d wait for her chance to kill Ned Durant for robbing her of so much.
Chapter 15
Trey spent three grueling hours walking over JDB land searching for his gelding. Every damned step he relived the moment when Daisy had turned and walked away with Durant following her. Heard the thunder of hooves pound in his head as they rode away.
It pissed him off that she’d gone to the cemetery alone, that she’d put herself in danger. That he hadn’t been able to do a damned thing to save her. Didn’t she know the risk she put herself in?
On the heels of that guilt came the unsettling thought that Durant had watched them yesterday as well. The bastard had known they were holed up in the adobe.
The fact he’d taken the horses from the pen before dawn proved he’d planned to leave Trey on foot again. Daisy too?
Hard to tell what Durant had in mind. She had surely made it easy for him by leaving Trey’s side.
He found his gelding tied to a fence post on the far eastern property line. Without water or shade, the horse would’ve died in a day.
But seeing the rider approaching from the south relieved that worry. Somebody would’ve come along and let the horse go.
Durant had put thought into this, knowing how much time Trey would waste looking for his gelding. Knew too that Trey could get here only to find the horse had been freed.
Either way precious time would be lost. The miles between him and Daisy would grow even more.
Anger nearly blinded him when he thought of what Durant had in mind for her. Dammit, how was he going to find them? It’d be nearly impossible to pick up their trail with the ground baked to rock.
Trey reached his horse and gained a weary nicker in greeting. He removed his hat and used it as a makeshift bowl, pouring water in for the gelding.
All the while he kept his eye on the rider who was nearly upon them. He shifted the hat into his left hand and let his right drift toward his sidearm.
The cowboy stopped six feet from him and pushed back his hat. He didn’t recall the man’s name, but he knew he was one of Leonard’s hands.
“Mighty odd place for a man to tether his horse,” the cowhand said.
“Wasn’t my idea.” Trey put his hat on and slipped the bridle on his gelding. “You see Ned Durant today?”
“Can’t say that I have. He have something to do with your horse being out here?”
Trey swore as he untied the lead line and looped it around his gelding’s neck. “Yep. This was Durant’s work.” He swung onto the gelding’s bare back and eyed the cowhand. “Durant has taken Daisy Barton. I’d be obliged if you’d get word to Hollis Feth at the Circle 46. Tell him I’m going after Durant and her.”
“You want me to alert the rangers too?”
“Fine by me,” he said. “Just make sure Hollis knows.”
He brushed two fingers over his hat brim and turned the horse back toward the adobe. As soon as he filled his canteens and saddled his gelding, he aimed to ride hard. Ride west.
Ride to hell if he had to. He wasn’t going to stop until he found Daisy and dispatched Ned Durant to hell for good.
Daisy struggled to keep her seat on her mare, the day passing from blazing hell into twilight in a blur of worry and fear. And heat. My God, she’d never been so hot and miserable in her life.
Even now with the sun ebbing, her head pounded. Her throat was parched. Her legs had grown numb from hours of relentless riding.
The fact she’d been forced to ride hard after making slow sweet love with Trey caused its own misery, both in body and mind. What was he thinking? Had he picked up their trail?
She longed to rant and rave, to complain about being treated so poorly, but she wouldn’t give Durant the satisfaction of knowing how much pain he caused her. So she suffered in silence and prayed that Trey would find her soon.
The land had gotten harsher. Dryer. Bleaker. All the dangers she’d heard about being in the desert came rushing back to her, some just as terrifying as the man who held her captive.
She surely didn’t want to think about the night to come alone with Ned. Didn’t want to imagine what horrors lay in wait for her. But she’d likely find out soon, for she doubted he’d push on through the night.
Even a lowlife like him had to rest some time. Maybe when he did, she’d find a way to escape.
Beyond the barren landscape, she saw a river flowed like a thin, pale snake for as far as she could see. Across it on the horizon rose a hazy ridge. Mountains? It had to be.
She’d never thought she’d come this far west to actually see them. Now that she was here, any excitement their beauty might have stirred was tempered by the fact that Ned was taking her to an isolated place. There’d be less chance to escape. To get back to Trey.
“We’ll camp up ahead on the Pecos River,” Durant said. “There’s water and grass there for the horses.”
Her mare whickered, scenting water already.
Daisy wet her own parched lips. What she wouldn’t give for a long drink of water. Or a bath to soak the West Texas grit off her skin.
Even though she dreaded the night to come, she was relieved when Ned found a place along the river that suited him.
When he dismounted, she did the same. The last thing she wanted to do was encourage him to come closer to her. Just fearing that was in the offing made her sick inside.
She’d have a battle to endure tonight, for she wouldn’t surrender to him. He’d have to take what he wanted.
By sheer will she forced her numb legs to support her. Still she had to lean against her mare a moment to gain her footing. Don’t show any weakness, she told herself.
“See to your needs,” Ned told her as he lead both horses to the river to drink.
She surely wouldn’t argue the point as she sought out the cover of a greasewood bush. Too soon she had nothing to do but stand nervously and wait for Ned to make his next move. Even if she could force her wobbly legs to run, there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide.
Her thoughts turned to Trey. Where was he now? Was he searching for her? Had he given up the effort and returned to the Circle 46?
No, he wouldn’t do that. He might not love her, but he wouldn’t leave her to Ned’s devices either. He’d look for her.
But even if he didn’t find her, she couldn’t be a victim either. Somehow she had to overpower Ned.
If she could get on her mare and have control, she’d ride for her life. And she knew that’s exactly what she’d be doing.
She returned to the area Ned had chosen to find he’d unsaddled both horses and staked them nearby. So much for making a quick escape. Though she could ride bareback, she couldn’t manage without a bridle.
He cast her a cool look that made her stomach churn with dread. “You know how to cook?”
“No,” she said, which was a partial truth.
Ramona had taught her the basics, but she was nowhere near accomplished or comfortable in the kitchen. But then that held true for most anything.
“Then make yourself useful and gather greasewood for a fire,” he said. “And keep your eyes peeled for rattlers.”
She went about that task without complaining. At least this kept her from being in his close company.
Still it took no time at all before she had a good stack of brush for his fire. The setting sun made digging around much longer a danger, even though she morosely thought that getting bit by a snake was preferable to enduring his attention.
She eased down on a flat rock upwind from Ned and watched him build the fire and light it. “What do you hope to gain by doing this?”
“My just due.” He stripped her to the bone with his beady gaze. “With you and Barton gone, both ranches will go up on the block for back taxes. I got enough saved to take it all over.”
“You’re going to kill me?”
“When I’m done with you.”
She didn’t ask what he meant. She knew.
Ned had stolen enough JDB stock to fall right back into the cattle business. The only person who knew Ned had abducted her and likely would be her death would be Trey, and she had no doubt that Ned would lie in wait for him and shoot him in the back.
Ned had wanted the ranches from the start, and he was willing to do anything to get them. How could her daddy have been so blind to him? Or had he seen through Ned at the last?
She rubbed her forehead and tried to think back to those dark days after Trey had left. When she’d finally told her daddy the truth, he’d vowed to track Trey March down. Swore he’d drag that cowboy back here and make him do right by her.
Then the fall from the loft ended that need. The trapdoor had been left open for a reason. Her attacker meant to push her from the loft, either to kill or cripple her. But she’d fallen through on her own in her haste to escape.
Ned had murdered her baby. He had planned to do the same to her. Had he had a hand in her daddy’s death as well?
The disgusting breadth of Ned’s treachery set her insides churning. He’d abused her daddy’s trust and hers, and hid it all under a guise of willing servitude.
“Daddy guessed you had a hand in Trey’s disappearance,” she said, certain of it now. “He confronted you. What happened? Did you threaten to kill him? Me?”
Ned flopped back on his bedroll and laughed, kicking at the rocks with what looked to be custom-made boots. Yes, he’d already started living the good life off his ill-gotten gains.
His upper lip lifted in a silent snarl, and his eyes went black and cold. “The old man couldn’t see that I’d done him a favor. That I was the better choice.”
“Daddy knew that no man could trust a rattler.”
Ned sprang forward and crouched before her, his hands like manacles on her arms. “Don’t go blaming me for what happened. Things would’ve gone on like they were if you hadn’t crawled into bed with March.”
She tried to break free but he held fast, his grip punishing and the fires of hell blazing in his eyes. “I don’t believe you. You had designs on the land and me for a long time. You wouldn’t have stood by and let me marry Kurt.”
“Ranch accidents happen all the time.”
“I hate you!”
She hated him for taking everything she loved from her. If she found a way, she’d kill him. Even if it was the last thing she did.
“Don’t rightly give a shit how you feel about me.”
Ned rocked forward and pushed her back on the flat rock, her fisted hands between them little barrier. But her knee connected with his groin.
He grunted, off balance just enough for her to shove him off her. But his hold on her wrists remained tight, even when she tried to knee him again.
He spat out a vile curse and dropped her left wrist. She jutted her hand toward his face to claw him just as his fist slammed into her jaw.
Pain shot through her head and left her disoriented, seeing double. Too soon he was straddling her again, holding both of her hands in one of his.
She just managed to turn her head and avoid his mouth covering hers. But she could do nothing as he ripped open her blouse. The hot blast of his breath on her neck sickened her even as panic welled inside her.
She pinched her eyes shut, going cold inside, pulling apart from the horror that was about to happen. She locked those precious memories of making love with Trey aside, becoming someone else, someone who couldn’t feel.
It took her a moment to realize Ned was shoving away from her. She looked up at him, standing now with his gun drawn.
He’s going to shoot me instead.
But he wasn’t aiming the gun at her. He wasn’t even looking at her any longer, but was staring at some point behind her.
The unknown sank new fear into her, but a thread of hope bloomed too.
Please let it be Trey!
Please let it be Trey!
She pulled her torn blouse over her chemise and scrambled to her feet, putting distance between her and Ned. Only then did she turn around.
Not Trey. Not her hero.
Her gaze widened on the four riders who stood at the edge of their camp. Even in the dim light she could see all of them were armed, though none had drawn a weapon. But if looks could kill, Ned Durant would be a dead man.
She took a step backward, then another. These men weren’t here to rescue her. No, they were of the same ilk as Ned. Maybe worse. Good God ...
“Little lady, you’d best stop where you’re at,” said the man who sat tallest in the saddle, his wide-brimmed hat blocking out all firelight that would have let her see his face.
She froze in her tracks and swallowed hard.
“Run,” Ned told her.
She felt the calculating stare of four pairs of eyes daring her to try. She knew before she cleared camp she’d be shot. And maybe that would be for the best.
The leader of the men spoke up. “You got five seconds to holster that Colt or the man behind you is going to blow you to hell.”
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