Enemy Infiltration
Page 20
The trees slowed Domino’s pace as he wound through the tall oaks and mesquites that were abundant as they tracked White Dress.
There was something frantic about her pace and the way she zigzagged through the woods. Was she running from someone besides him?
Nah. He shook off the possibility.
“Hold on there.” He decided to take a different tack and intentionally softened his voice. “Do you need help?”
Domino’s pace slowed to a crawl as the woods thickened near the eastern fencing. Kent land stretched miles beyond this area. Where did White Dress think she was going?
“Whoa,” Will said to his horse.
Domino’s size was getting in the way of being nimble enough to catch her. At this point, Will could walk faster.
He climbed off his horse and tied Domino to a tree. He patted his gelding. “This shouldn’t take long. I’ll be right back, buddy.”
From behind, he could see that White Dress was five-and-a-half-feet tall, give or take. As he moved closer, he saw streaks of red on her dress. Blood? Was she hurt?
Her warm brown hair with streaks of honey looked more like a galloping horse’s mane, shiny and flowing as the wind whipped it around.
“Slow down. I have no plans to hurt you,” he said.
She glanced back at him and the look on her face was a punch to his gut. There was so much desperation and fear.
As he got closer, he could see that she wore a short-sleeved lacy wedding dress that fell just below the knee and a pair of dress boots with an intricate teal inlay. Will was gaining on her but not because he was increasing his speed. White Dress was slowing down and she seemed to be stumbling over her boots a little bit. His mind took a different turn. Was she under the influence of something?
She grabbed onto a tree trunk before glancing back at him. She was just far enough ahead for him to barely make out the details of her face. The woman was a looker with those hauntingly beautiful eyes. There was no argument about that. She held onto that tree like gravity would shoot her into the clouds if she let go.
“Who are you?” Will asked again, using the softer tone. She wore the expression of a frightened animal as she made another run for it.
White Dress’s boot must’ve caught on something because she vaulted forward and narrowly missed planting the crown of her head against an oak tree’s trunk when she landed. She popped up onto all fours and tried to scramble away. Her movements were awkward and wobbly, causing more questions to flood him. Had she hit her head? Had she lost a lot of blood and was about to pass out?
Then again, she might’ve been drinking and gotten hurt. He’d seen more than a few instances of hormone-infused good-ol’-boy drinking and the ensuing antics.
Growing up on the family ranch, he’d seen everything from cow-tipping to the south pasture accidentally catching on fire because of a gang of intoxicated teens. They’d claimed to be unaware the state was in a drought when they’d decided to roast hot dogs on a campfire at three o’clock in the morning after sneaking out.
“Look. I’m not going to hurt you so you might as well stop and tell me what you’re doing on my family’s land.” This time, he let his frustration seep in his tone. He didn’t have time for this. It was getting late in the day and he needed to head back to the ranch.
White Dress seemed determined to get away from him. He’d give her that. So, he jogged ahead of her and turned around to face her.
Those violet eyes of hers—filled with an interesting mix of sheer determination and panic—fixated on him as she managed to stumble to her feet and hold onto another tree trunk.
“We can do this for as long as you’d like. But you’re on my land and I’m not going anywhere until I know why you’re here and that you’ll leave safely.” He stood in an athletic stance, ready to take action the second she bolted.
“Then help me.” Her words slurred and for another split second he wondered if she’d been drinking.
“Tell me your name and I’ll see what I can do.” He fished out his cell, keeping an eye on her. For all he knew her tipsiness could be an act and she could take off again once he was distracted.
She hesitated. Her grip on the tree trunk was white-knuckled.
“My name’s Will Kent.” He figured a little goodwill would go a long way toward winning her trust. She had that frightened-animal look that came right before a bite. A scared animal could do a lot of damage.
On closer look, she seemed familiar. Did he know her?
“I know who you are. I’m Kelly Morgan,” she finally said and there was a resignation in her tone that made him inclined to believe she was telling the truth. Her facial expression wasn’t so defeated and he knew instantly that she would take any out that presented itself.
“Are you supposed to be somewhere, Mrs. Morgan?” He glanced at the white dress and then his eyes immediately flew to the ring finger on her left hand to see if the wedding had already taken place. There was nothing.
She shook her head almost violently.
“I’m not. I mean, I know what this must look like but—” Again her words were slurred.
She followed his gaze to the dress and her face paled.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, focusing on the long red streaks of blood.
“I don’t think so,” she said in a panicked tone as she ran her hands along the beading of her dress at her midsection.
His thoughts instantly skipped to the possibility that she’d had a few shots of “liquid courage” before she ended up chickening out and splitting on her wedding day. The thought of the man she’d left behind, another human being, standing at an altar somewhere and waiting—like an idiot!—for a woman who would never show stuck in Will’s craw. He tensed at the possibility. No man deserved to have his hopes trampled like that.
Will bit back what he really wanted to say.
“Today your wedding day?” he asked in an even tone as memories he’d tucked away down deep clawed to the surface.
“No.” She looked bewildered. “But it’s not safe for me. I have to keep going.”
She aimed herself at another tree and more or less threw her body toward it, grasping at the trunk.
“Whoa. Steady there,” Will said, stepping toward her to catch her elbow and hold her upright.
She mumbled an apology and something that sounded like she was saying she’d been drugged.
Did he hear her right?
This close, he could see the unique violet color in her irises, and when he looked deeper there was something else that would haunt him for the rest of his days—a split second of unadulterated fear.
Did she think he was going to hurt her?
“I’ll help you get this sorted out,” he said to reassure her, thinking this day was turning into a doozy.
“Why did he...? What did he...?”
Did she know where she was?
Even sounding confused, there was a musical quality to her voice.
It dawned on him what had been bugging him.
He knew that name.
Copyright © 2019 by Barb Han
ISBN-13: 9781488046162
Enemy Infiltration
Copyright © 2019 by Carol Ericson
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