Thunder Horse Redemption (12 page)

Pierce greeted his brother and opened the back door to the king-cab pickup. “Hop in, Roxanne.”

“That’s okay. I can wait here on the curb for my ride.”

“This is your ride,” Pierce said.

Roxanne frowned. “You have done more than enough for me. I can’t keep relying on you and your family. Besides I’m sure my ride will be here momentarily.”

“I called Jim and let him know that you won’t be coming home tonight.”

“You did what?” Anger beat out exhaustion as heat rose into Roxanne’s cheeks. “I have to go back tonight.”

“Jim said he had everything under control. They patched up the barn and made sure all the fires were out. He agreed you weren’t safe there and that you should stay the night at the Thunder Horse Ranch.”

Roxanne breathed in and out several times before she could speak in a normal tone. “You have no right to make that decision for me....”

“You’ve been shot at twice, almost run over and today someone tried to burn your barn down with you in it. You’re safer at the Thunder Horse Ranch, Roxanne.”

“But my ranch hands—”

“Right.” Pierce pressed a finger to her lips to stem her next argument. “Jim made another really good point. With you off the ranch, your men are safer, as well.”

“But what about everyone at the Thunder Horse Ranch? What about Julia? Lily? Katya? Your mother? Wouldn’t I put them all in danger by staying there?”

“Julia’s decided to stay at Tuck’s place in Bismarck for now—with all the time he’s spending at the office, it’s the best way to see him, anyway. She and Lily will be safe there. Maddox won’t let anything happen to Katya. And you know my mother too well to think that any amount of danger would keep her from helping a friend. It was her idea for you to come and stay with us.”

Roxanne crossed her arms over her chest, hating that he made sense. “Seems you and Jim thought of everything.”

“We tried,” he said, grinning, “knowing you wouldn’t like it.”

She huffed. “Got that right.”

“Can you two wrap it up?” Dante leaned out of the front passenger seat window. “I have a giant-size headache and it isn’t getting better.”

Pierce tipped his head to the side. “Now, are you going to keep Dante waiting?”

Outnumbered, outmaneuvered and overwhelmed, Roxanne stepped up into the pickup and slid as far across the backseat as she could get. Sitting too close to Pierce would be a bad idea, even without her emotions on the edge and her heart hammering inside her chest. In her current state, Roxanne didn’t trust herself, much less Pierce.

As they drove out to the Thunder Horse Ranch, the past few days’ events crashed in around her. The danger to herself, and to others, reminded her how fragile life could be.

Despite the threats and attacks, the danger that scared her the most was the one to her heart, being near Pierce again. How was she supposed to remember that she couldn’t rely on him if he kept being there for her every time she needed him?

Roxanne leaned her head against the cool window, closing her scratchy eyes. What a wreck she must be. She couldn’t even summon enough anger to be mad at Pierce anymore. As far as she was concerned that was the most dangerous position she could be in. If she had a lick of sense and an ounce of energy, she’d make the Thunder Horse brothers take her home.

But Jim’s insistence that her presence might put her men in danger hit too close to home—especially when she thought of how the danger had already gotten Jim hurt. Suddenly, she felt very alone, even in the truck with the Lakota brothers.

By the time the truck pulled into the driveway at the Thunder Horse Ranch house, Roxanne had sunk into a blue funk of colossal proportions.

All she wanted to do was shower and go straight to bed.

Pierce helped her climb down from the truck and insisted on taking her arm, leading her into the house.

Amelia met them at the door, clucking like a mother hen worried about her brood.

“Dante, sit,” she ordered. “I want a look at the bump.” She reached up and tried to part his hair.

“Mom, the EMTs said I’d be just fine.” Dante waved his mother’s hands away. “I want a shower before I touch anything. I reek of smoke.”

Pierce chuckled. “She needs to mother someone, Dante. Let her.”

“It’s my job to worry. I’m your mother.”

“Then worry about Roxanne,” Dante insisted. “She’s had the worst of it.”

Roxanne shook her head. Though she loved Amelia Thunder Horse, she didn’t want her to fuss around her. Pierce and his brothers would come and go, but Amelia was Roxanne’s closest neighbor and the member of the Thunder Horse clan she interacted with the most. She didn’t want the woman to see her as an object of pity. “I should go back home. I don’t want to be a bother to you.”

“Nonsense, dear. I’ll find clothes you can wear.” Amelia glanced at Pierce. “She can have my bedroom for the night.”

“No, Mom, no need to give up your room,” Pierce said. “She’ll sleep in mine.”

Roxanne’s cheeks burned and she opened her mouth to protest.

Pierce cut her off before she could blast him. “Don’t worry, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll only be a few minutes in the shower.” Dante hurried down the hallway.

“Oh, dear, you look like you’ve all had a rough day.” Amelia led her down the hallway to the room that had always been Pierce’s.

The room held too many memories for Roxanne. She’d hung out in his room on a number of occasions during their courtship. They’d lain together on his bed, kissing and touching each other, like teenagers. Out of respect for Pierce’s mother, they saved the more intimate encounters for Roxanne’s house where she was chaperone-free, but for her brother.

As Amelia pushed through the door, a flood of sadness threatened to overwhelm Roxanne. She stood in the center of the floor, unable to move, to speak or react lest she burst into tears.

Amelia flitted in and out, depositing a nightgown, clothes for the next day and a fresh towel on the end of the bed. The bed Pierce slept in, covered in a quilt his mother had hand stitched with pictures of wolves, buffalo, horses and other animals filling the big squares.

Everything about the room was masculine, from the rough-hewn cedar four-poster bed, down to the brown-and-black braided rug covering the hardwood floors.

“Dante is done in the shower if you’d like to go next.” Amelia hugged Roxanne. “I’m so sorry you’ve had such a time of it. You’re safe here. Let me know if you need anything else.”

She backed out of the room, leaving Roxanne more alone than she’d felt since she’d called off her engagement to Pierce.

Things had been so good between them—and had then gone so terribly wrong. She’d told herself over and over again that she was fine on her own, that she didn’t need anyone else, but now she was starting to wonder if that was true. Much as she hated to admit it, she’d needed Pierce over and over again during the past few days. And it wasn’t just “need”—there was “want” to be considered, too. She’d never wanted any man like she’d wanted Pierce—like she wanted him, still.

But all of that was over between them…wasn’t it? After the way he’d shut her out, and the way she’d vented her pain and anger on him, she didn’t see how they could ever truly reconcile. And if they did, could she truly let herself trust him? Was there any way they could be fixed, or would she have to feel this alone for the rest of her life?

Chapter Twelve

The rest of the family settled in for the night. Maddox and Katya held hands all the way to their bedroom, and Dante suffered his mother’s attention as she applied antibiotic ointment to his scalp wounds.

If all was well in the Thunder Horse house, then why the hell couldn’t Pierce go to sleep?

Because Roxanne lay in his bed.

Images of her dark red curls feathering across his pillow kept him wide awake and aching.

When she’d skipped down the hallway after her shower, wearing the short filmy nightgown Katya had loaned her, Pierce thought he would come undone.

Now, as he paced the living room, he went over the events of the day, hoping the danger and turbulence would quell his desires and remind him what was important:

Keeping Roxanne safe.

He wanted to believe that nothing bad would happen to her while she stayed at the Thunder Horse Ranch. That Pierce could go to sleep without worrying that someone was outside waiting to throw a firebomb through the window.

But could he? Who was to say that whoever had been responsible for the attacks on Roxanne hadn’t followed her here to Pierce’s home?

He suspected the wheel and tire problem he’d had on the road had been a setup to get him out of the way and keep him away from Roxanne for the day, just as knocking Dante on the back of the head had disposed of him.

His pulse thrumming faster than usual, Pierce slipped on his boots and stepped outside. One last pass around the house should help to ease his mind.

The cool night air felt good against his skin. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt, normally preferring to sleep naked. In deference to the females in the house, he’d slipped on a pair of boxers to sleep in. They covered what was necessary to appease his family’s sense of propriety.

As he walked around the house in boxers and boots, he could imagine the spectacle he made. A chuckle rose up his chest that caught in his throat when he passed his room.

The French door leading out of his bedroom stood open. A rush of fear for Roxanne spiked in his blood, sending his heart racing.

He spotted a dark silhouette outside, moving in the shadows, easing slowly along the porch toward his open door.

In three giant steps, he’d closed the distance to the house. Bracing his hands on the porch rail, he vaulted over the edge and grabbed the intruder from behind, trapping the stranger’s arms against his sides.

A feminine squeak caught Pierce off guard. The person in his grasp fought and kicked. Beneath a bulky robe, Pierce could feel the curve of breasts and hips.

“Roxy?” he whispered, and spun her in his arms.

Her hair hung down in her face, her soft, silky curls slipping free of the robe’s collar, brushing against his hands.

She stared up into his eyes, her breathing ragged, her body tense. “Pierce?”

“Yeah, baby, it’s me.” His grip relaxed.

“Why the hell did you grab me?” Roxanne pressed a hand to her throat and leaned her head into his chest. “You scared me half to death.” A shaky laugh barely dispelled the fear in her voice.

After a steadying moment, she pushed away from him, backed up to the porch rail and sat against a thick wooden beam. Drawing her knees up to her chin, she wrapped her arms around her legs. The robe fell open, exposing the flimsy nightgown and a generous portion of her thighs.

Pierce cleared his throat to keep from groaning. “Can’t sleep?”

“I’m so tired, I could tip over this rail.” She shook her head. “But I couldn’t fall to sleep.”

“Too much to think about?”

She shrugged. “Too much of everything.”

He stood beside her and leaned against the same beam, staring up at the stars, wanting more than anything to draw her into his arms but afraid she’d push him away again. “The stars sure are bright.”

“Yes, they are.” Her voice caught and she sniffled.

Pierce’s heart skipped several beats and he turned to face her, capturing her arms in his hands. “Are you crying?”

“I’ve told you before, cowgirls don’t cry.” Her head dipped and she sniffed again.

“Liar.” He tipped her chin up. Moonlight glistened off the moisture on her face. “Come here.”

He drew her to her feet and into his arms, resting his cheek against her hair. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s your room,” she whispered against his bare chest.

His room? He tipped her chin up. “What about my room? Aren’t the sheets clean? Is it too warm?”

“No, no, everything’s perfect…except…the last time I was in your room…we made love.”

His hand slipped beneath the robe, which he recognized now as his, and he pulled her close. “And why does that bother you?” He held his breath, afraid of her response but needing to hear it nonetheless.

“I feel tense, alone…sad.” Her hands slid up over his chest, circled around his neck and pulled his head lower, until his lips hovered over hers. “Damn you, Pierce Thunder Horse, I miss you,” she said so softly he almost didn’t catch her words.

But he did hear and his body stiffened. “You called off our wedding.”

She nodded. “I was angry, grieving. And you wouldn’t talk to me, wouldn’t share with me what you were feeling. You wouldn’t even tell me what had happened, other than to say it was your fault.”

Pierce wanted to hold her in his arms and make love to her more than he wanted to breathe, but he couldn’t. “That’s because it
was
my fault your brother died. I shouldn’t have taken him on that raid. I should have done better by him—and by you. You need to marry someone who can be there for you. Not someone whose life is at the mercy of the bureau.”

“The bureau.” She leaned her forehead against his chest, trapping their hands between them. “How much do you have to give to your country?”

“I love my work.”

“And I love mine, when I’m not being shot at, run over or trapped in a burning barn.” A shiver shook her body.

Pierce knew how scared she’d been. Hell he’d been as scared for her.

She pulled her hands free and wrapped them around Pierce’s waist. “For now, all I want is for you to hold me. No strings, no commitment, just hold me until I go to sleep.”

When she put it like that, Pierce couldn’t say no. His determination to let go of Roxanne and allow her to live her life free of him and the bureau was pushed to the back of his mind.

His arms slipped beneath the robe, and he lifted her up and carried her back inside to his bed. There he laid her against the pillows, her fiery red hair dark against the white pillowcases, moonlight casting a soft blue glow over her pale skin.

His groin tightened. The night would be hard on him, but he couldn’t turn his back on her. He lay on the bed beside her and gathered her into his arms.

Roxanne laid her cheek on his chest, her hand resting low on his belly, one leg draped over his thigh.

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he tightened his arm around her. “Go to sleep, Roxy.”

Her face tipped up to him, her lips parted.

He bent to kiss her lightly. “Just sleep.”

She deserves more
became his mantra through the long, heartbreaking night of lying so close to Roxanne, knowing he couldn’t hold her forever. Understanding that their time together was limited to the time it took to determine who was after her.

He held her, without moving, long into the wee hours of the morning. Near sunrise, he kissed her forehead and slipped out of the bed. After a quick shower, he stepped into the kitchen.

His mother was already up and cooking breakfast for the family.

“Morning, Mom.” He dropped a kiss on her hair. “Tuck left a message on my phone about a lead on Roxanne’s case, so I’ll be headed to Bismarck today to follow up.”

“What about Roxanne?” his mother asked.

“Keep her here. It’s too dangerous for her to go out on her own.”

His mother frowned. “I can’t hold her hostage.”

“Don’t offer her a ride and don’t let her take a horse.”

“Honey, you know Roxanne better than any of us. You can’t keep her from doing whatever she pleases.”

“Should I be involved in this discussion?” a quiet voice said from just outside the door to the kitchen as Roxanne entered.

Pierce spun to face her.

She wore his robe, her curly hair was rumpled, and she blinked sleepily. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Bismarck,” he said.

She bit on her bottom lip then stated, “I need to get back to my ranch.”

Before she finished her sentence, Pierce was already shaking his head. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Her brows rose, her lips tightening.

Pierce’s mother clucked her tongue. “Told you.” She went back to the stove to stir the scrambled eggs in the pan.

Pierce decided on another tactic. “I have business in Bismarck at the bureau. Can you be ready to leave in five minutes?”

Her hand rose to smooth her hair back. “I’m not going. The cattle—”

“Will survive without you. And your men can get them ready for loading.”

“I need to be the one to cull the breeders.”

“Jim will be able to watch from the sidelines. If you’re not going with me, you need to stay here where you’re safe.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but Pierce pressed a finger to her lips. “Where you go, trouble follows. I worry about you. You worry about your employees. If you go back to the ranch, which of your employees will be the next in collateral damage? If you won’t stay because I want you to be safe, stay here to keep the others from being harmed. Nothing’s happened since you’ve been here so I think whoever’s after you doesn’t know where to find you. But even if he figures it out, I’d feel a lot better knowing you were here with Dante and Maddox.”

Roxanne sucked in a deep breath, her gaze locked with his. Then her chin dipped and she nodded. “Okay, I’ll stay, but hurry back. I need to be there. The Carmichael Ranch has too much at stake for me to run scared.”

Pierce wanted to trust her, but she’d given up too easily. “Promise you’ll stay safe?” He gripped her shoulders, forcing her to look back into his eyes.

“I promise to stay safe.”

He frowned, not totally convinced, but he let it go. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.” He hated to leave. Something in his gut told him that Roxanne would only be safe if he was by her side. But this new lead of Tuck’s could be the answer to finding the guy behind all of this. He had to leave Roxanne in order to protect her.

So why did it feel so wrong?

* * *

R
OXANNE
WATCHED
THROUGH
the living room window as Pierce pulled out of the yard and disappeared down the gravel driveway.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be back soon.” Amelia patted her back. “Pierce can’t stay away long knowing you’re in danger. He loves you so much.”

“I doubt that.” Roxanne glanced down at the shorter woman. “How can you be so nice to me when I dumped your son? I don’t think I could be as gracious.”

Amelia smiled and patted Roxanne’s cheek. “Grief has a way of making a person a little crazy. You know, first there’s the denial, then there’s the anger.” Amelia shrugged and moved away to gather magazines from the coffee table. “I think you were so heartbroken by your brother’s death that you lashed out at the only person you could at the time. Unfortunately, it was Pierce.”

Roxanne’s gaze shifted back to the window. Had she pushed Pierce away in her grief? Did she still love him? “He told me it was his fault that Mason died.”

Amelia nodded. “I’m sure he believes that. But he’d probably say the fire at your house was his fault, too. Do you agree with him?” Amelia held the magazines to her chest, her eyes sad.

“No, of course not. Why would he think it was his fault?”

“Because he didn’t stop it from happening. I imagine he blames himself for Mason’s death in the same way—thinking it’s his fault because he was responsible for Mason and yet he couldn’t protect him.”

Was that true? Roxanne knew that Pierce was never one to pass the buck—he always accepted blame when he thought he’d been in the wrong. But was he blaming himself for things that weren’t his fault, things that had never been in his control? She’d been so angry when Mason died that she’d never thought to question whether Pierce really had been to blame. Was there a chance that his mother was right?

“He wouldn’t talk to me about the explosion,” Roxanne hedged. “I still don’t know what happened.”

“Neither do I, dear. I was never able to get him to open up, either. But I do think he needs to talk about it, if someone’s stubborn enough to get through to him.” Amelia excused herself to go see to things in the kitchen, leaving Roxanne alone in the living room. She lifted a pillow from the floor and arranged it on the couch, at a loss for what to do with herself. Wishing she was out on a horse, the wind in her hair.

On an end table next to her was a photograph of Lily. Roxanne picked it up, staring at the image of the small child who looked so much like a little Lakota papoose, her face pale, her pitch-black, straight hair pulled into a tiny tuft held by a pink bow-shaped clip on top of her little head.

Roxanne settled in a rocker-recliner, touching her toe on the floor to set the chair in motion as she stared at the photograph.

Looking at the image of the baby who so closely resembled her father, Pierce’s brother, Roxanne couldn’t help thinking
what if
. What if she hadn’t called off her wedding to Pierce? She could be pregnant now. What would their baby have looked like? Would she be dark like Lily or would she have red hair like her mother? Would he be strong, with high cheekbones and dark skin like Pierce? Would he like riding horses or playing football?

The list of possibilities seemed endless and…useless.

A tear slipped from the corner of Roxanne’s eyes as she rocked back and forth, the chair’s gentle sway only reminding her of everything she’d given up. She still loved Pierce, but she didn’t know what kind of future they could have. He’d more or less told her he didn’t want her back. What kind of crap had he said? She deserved someone better?

Pierce was a man of character, a man who stood by his family and friends. Did that really go with the idea she’d clung to—that somehow Pierce had let Mason down, leading to his death?