“Did she say where she was going?”
“Nah,” Len said. “But I happened to glance over at her phone, and I saw a map of Shepherd’s Peak.”
Shepherd’s Peak. Dread swamped his senses. In the almost seven weeks he had been home, he had been careful to avoid that particular place. Too many bad memories. Too many broken dreams.
Surely Tacy wouldn’t be so foolhardy as to venture a climb to its peak. The ascent was difficult in the best of circumstances, but add in the recent deluge of water, and the rocks would be slippery and the ground muddy.
But even as his brain marshalled these thoughts, his heart knew the truth. Of course, Tacy would attempt the climb if she thought she could rescue Timmy. He would do the same.
He pivoted on his heel and dashed back into the house. His truck was gone, so he grabbed nearest keys. Thirty seconds later, he shot down the driveway, his body hunched down low against the handlebars of Steven’s motorcycle. The needle on the speedometer edged toward seventy, but he continued to press down on the accelerator. He had to get to Shepherd’s Peak. He had to save Tacy and Timmy.
NINETEEN
By the time Tacy parked next to the rock-strewn path to Shepherd’s Peak, the sun was already peeking up from the horizon, and a thick mantle of humidity hung in the air. A bead of sweat trickled down her back, but she squared her shoulders and quickened her pace. Her eyes scanned the sides of the cliff and stopped to focus on the ledge. Was Timmy up there, waiting? She’d find out soon enough.
She took a step. Then another. She could this. She had to do this.
But after twenty minutes, her ankle was throbbing, and a stabbing pain jolted up her body with each step. The coffee canister inside her backpack jangled, its rounded edges rubbing against her spine, and the canvas straps chafed against her shoulder blades. Sweat soaked through her shirt, and her hair was damp with perspiration. But none of that mattered. She needed to rescue Timmy.
Timmy with his dark, thoughtful eyes. His straight brown hair that was so like Seb’s. The freckles that sprinkled his nose. And his smile. His perfect smile that would light up his whole face with excitement and eagerness. Images of her son throughout the years flashed in her mind. Timmy as a baby. He had been so small and frail. The doctor had induced her a month early when her infection left her too weakened to carry him full-term. But Timmy had strength. From the very first moment he was born at just under five pounds, he hadn’t let his small body hold him back. He had cried gustily for milk and seemed to have set his mind on living. Then there was Timmy at his first birthday, just beginning to walk. Her father had bought him new gray Nike sneakers that matched his own, and Timmy had proudly staggered around their two-bedroom apartment with her dad following in case he fell.
Oh Dad. She sniffled back tears. Why did you ask me to come back here? Why didn’t you reach out to Grandfather before you died to tell him whatever it was that you wrote in your letter? Not that the letter even seemed important anymore, not with Timmy somewhere on the cliffs. It was a good thing that Seb now knew that he had a son. If anything happened to her, Timmy would still have a family to love.
She wiped her eyes on the shoulder of her shirt and began to mentally prepare for the challenge ahead. Please God. Give me strength.
As she crested the steeper part of the mountain, her phone pinged with a text. She glanced down at the screen. It was a report on the drug test done by the clinic. High levels of sedatives had registered in her saliva.
So Lois had drugged her coffee, not that it mattered at this point. She paused to catch her breath. In another hundred feet she would be below the ledge.
And then she would have to climb.
Her overheated body was suddenly blanketed with an icy chill. No! She was not going to have another panic attack. Not here. Not now. She sat down on a rock and lowered her head between her knees, forcing herself to relax, to inhale and exhale slowly. After ten seconds, her heart rate returned to normal, and she stood up. It didn’t matter what had happened before. Today she was going to make it to the ledge.
She trudged on. The cliff loomed closer and closer. And then, suddenly, she was there. At the end of the trail. Staring up at the rock wall in front of her. Scrubby bits of brush grew along the side, and the tan stone looked almost yellow in the sunshine. She brushed a hand across her face and looked around. It was just as she remembered. Her eyes skimmed over the edifice toward the narrow crevice two thirds of the way up. That was the spot where she had fallen while climbing with Seb.
She stared at the wall and took a deep breath. This time she would do it right. If her accident had taught her one thing, it was not to rush—no matter how desperately she wanted to. She hung the rope across her shoulder and placed the safety helmet on her head. There was no doubt left lingering in her mind. She was going to nail the climb and save Timmy.
* * *
Clumps of goopy gravel clung to the front wheel of the Harley, miring it down in a sinkhole of sludge. Seb gunned the bike’s engine, but it didn’t do any good. The tires spun uselessly in the mud. He should have realized that the ground was too wet from the rain. He took a deep breath and slid off the motorcycle. He’d go the rest of the way on foot. But he needed to hurry. Judging from the fresh ATV tracks carved into the wet ground, someone had already passed by ahead of him. Lois? Maybe. Or maybe Gunnar. Definitely not Tacy unless she had abandoned his truck for a lighter vehicle.
He was tempted to text her and let her know that he was halfway up the back trail of Shepherd’s Peak. But it would be a risky move without any sort of knowledge of her whereabouts. He began to sprint and then eased into a jog as the path became steeper and pockmarked with rocks. One step up and two steps back.
A sudden realization flashed across his brain. He had spent the past ten years mourning the loss of something that was within his reach—but he had lacked the courage to go for it. When this was all over, when Tacy and Timmy were safe, he’d ask for a chance to make new start. But first he needed to deal with the kidnapper.
He increased his pace as the path leveled off, but despite the easier terrain, it was difficult to gain traction. His boots slid at every foothold, and his lungs burned with each ragged breath. But just another fifty yards and he’d be there.
As he made the final push to the top, he locked in on a plan of attack. The kidnapper had probably heard the motorcycle before he had abandoned it on the path, so it seemed likely that he or she would be ready and waiting. And, even though the kidnapper probably had his dad’s gun, Seb was armed as well. The wild card in the situation was going to be Timmy. Would he be there on the ledge, or had he been left behind in a safe place? Seb was praying it would be the latter. This would be a lot easier if he didn’t have to worry about Timmy.
Ten feet to go. Then five. His heart was pounding when he reached the plateau at the top of the cliff where an ATV was parked off to the side.
Adrenaline coursed through his body as he drew his weapon and he stepped up on the summit. His breath hitched as he looked down at the person waiting for Tacy.
Gunnar Graff.
There was no sign of Lois. Part of him still wondered what role she played in all of this. Had she and Gunnar been working together all along? Who had formulated the plan? Who was it who kept raising the stakes? Seb couldn’t know for sure−and now wasn’t the time to find out.
A flash of color caught his eye. At his feet was a red carabiner attached to a rope dangling down to the ledge. A couple inches to the right, propped against the back wall, was a small wooden crate. And next to that crate was Timmy.
Fury raged through his senses. He clicked off the safety from his gun and was lining up his shot when the scuffing of boots echoed against the rocks. He looked toward the sheer side of the outcropping. Ten fingers grasped the ground inches from where Gunnar was standing. Then, Tacy—her long hair tucked into his red helmet and her cheeks streaked with mud a
nd dirt—pulled herself up onto the ledge.
“Gunnar!” Tacy’s voice betrayed her dismay. “Why are you here? Where’s Lois?”
Gunnar laughed. “Figured out she was involved, did you? Good—I wanted you to. That way, you’d never think to suspect me.”
“Suspect my godfather? My father’s best friend? No, it never occurred to me,” Tacy spat back. “How could you do this? And why? Just for a container of gold coins? Was that worth selling out your friends?”
“Oh, there’s much more to it than a container of gold,” Gunnar replied with a sneer. “You have no idea how big this deal truly is.”
Seb shifted in his position on the outcropping. A sharp-edged rock dug into his abdomen, but he ignored the throbbing and raised his gun. His finger twitched on the trigger, but Gunnar and Tacy were too close together. If he hit Gunnar, he might fall—and take Tacy with him.
“I had a chance to finally make a big score by setting up a dummy corporation to buy the land from your grandfather.” Gunnar continued. “The land that holds an actual, literal gold mine that your grandfather never even suspected was there. If my scheme had worked, I’d never have to worry about money again.”
Anger tinged with disbelief pooled in Seb’s gut. Money? This whole vendetta against Tacy was because of greed? Somehow it had seemed so much more personal. But the fact that Gunnar would throw away his decades of friendship with the Tolberts just for such material stakes didn’t surprise him. He had always been wary of the attorney.
He rolled his head back against his neck. He couldn’t get a shot off from his current position. But Gunnar’s obsession with gaining the gold might be his undoing. A plan began forming in his brain.
As Seb considered his options, Gunnar moved a step closer to Tacy on the ledge. “But you ruined it. I knew when you came back to town that you’d bring trouble. You and your fancy law school degree. It was only a matter of time before you found out about that old deed your grandfather sent your dad years ago. I convinced your grandfather that it was never official. But I knew you’d be too smart to be fooled by my lies.
“Of course, your father didn’t destroy it. Why would he, when it guaranteed your future? He told me about it just before he died. Asked me to follow through with Carl to see if a joint tenancy agreement was something he still wanted. Said he’d wait to hear from me before discussing the matter with you.”
Gunnar’s features hardened as he drew out the pistol he had tucked into his waistband and aimed it at Tacy’s chest. “He didn’t know that I had been working for years on my own plan and that helping his daughter was the least of my concern.”
The hairs on the back of Seb’s neck stood up at the sight of Gunnar pointing his weapon at Tacy. But there was no way he was going to let anything happen. Not to Tacy. Not to Timmy. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to save the woman he loved and the son he had just found. Or he would die trying.
“Mom!” Timmy cried out from the nest of cords binding his arms and his legs.
“Timmy!” Tacy moved toward him. But she had taken only a few steps when a bullet blazed above her in the air.
“Stay away from your son. If you move any closer, I’ll kill you...and him.”
Fury coursed through Seb’s body. He estimated the distance to the bottom of the ledge. The ten-foot jump wouldn’t be a problem, but it would only take a second for Gunnar to get a shot off, and this time he wouldn’t be firing a warning shot. There would be no room for mistakes.
“Did you bring the gold?” Gunnar said.
Tacy nodded. She made a move to slip off her backpack, but Gunnar stopped her with a bullet that skidded across the dirt. “Toss it to me. And don’t try anything stupid if you care about your son.”
Tacy looked toward Timmy and then glanced up toward the top of the cliff. Did she see him? She must have, because she heaved the pack across the ground directly under the spot where he was crouched and waiting.
“Stupid girl!” Gunnar yelled. “Didn’t I tell you to throw it here?” He moved across the ledge, keeping the barrel of his gun fixed on Tacy. He bent down and ripped open the backpack, clawing through the contents, tossing carabiners and ropes over the cliff. He pulled out the old coffee can, yanked off the top, and reached inside.
Seb flexed his toes. That was his chance.
He jumped.
Gunnar’s eyes caught on him while he was still in midair.
There was a flash of light, but Gunnar’s shot went wide. Seb flinched sideways, missing his landing and crashing his left foot through the top of the cage. The wood splintered under his boot, but he shook himself free and charged.
He knocked Gunnar to the ground, and the impact sent both weapons skittering.
Tacy scrambled to reach a gun, but Seb beat her to it. As his fingers closed around the trigger, a movement caught his eye—a long snake slithering free from the broken boards of the cage.
For one painstaking second, everyone froze.
This must be the black mamba that had been missing from Lois’s shop. His already pounding heart accelerated as the snake twitched its tail and flicked his forked tongue. It didn’t look that much different than a harmless grass snake. But its olive skin glistened as it zigzagged from left to right across the ledge.
Sweat dripped from his forehead as he pointed his gun at the snake. The shot would be difficult since the mamba’s movements were wily—and quick. Its glistening body glided in semicircles around the rocks, its neck raised and his head cocked to one side, its black eyes surveying the scene. He had to do something. If the snake bit Timmy or Tacy...
No. That wasn’t going to happen. He steadied his shaking hands and whispered a prayer.
Guide me, Lord.
He pulled the trigger and fired.
The snake recoiled as the bullet struck. It hissed and lashed forward, its jaws clamping down on Gunnar’s outstretched arm.
A howl of despair burst from Gunnar’s throat as the injured snake wrapped its tail around his elbow and, in a flash of fury, bit deeper through his flesh.
Gunnar stumbled backwards.
Seb reached out his hand as Gunnar teetered for a moment on the edge. But it was too late. With the snake’s jaw still clamped down onto his arm, Gunnar lost his balance and fell backward off the ledge.
TWENTY
The horror was over. Timmy was safe. In the days that followed, a funnel cloud of emotions swirled through Seb’s brain. Relief and gratitude. Faith and hope in God’s plan for the road ahead. Respect and love for his parents and Steven, who’d had his back throughout the crisis.
But inside of him another, more complicated emotion danced in his head. Sadness. After ten years apart, he had finally found Tacy. The moment when he realized that he could lose her forever had clarified his thoughts. He had been blind and stubborn to hold on to old grudges and try to assign blame. It didn’t matter what had happened with the divorce. That was part of the past, part of a time when they were both too young to realize what they had to lose. But now, ten years older and quite a bit wiser, he saw clearly what was already gone and what he could miss out on in the future. Love. A wife. A son. A family. They were all he wanted—and he was terrified he’d already missed his chance.
He and Tacy had been pulled in many different directions since arriving at the base of Shepherd’s Peak. There were interviews with the police and the FBI and frantic attempts to find Carl, who turned out to be holed up in a hotel, waiting out the storm. Lois had left him there, promising to return, but the feds picked her up at the airport, boarding a plane to Montreal.
Gunnar was dead. And Lois was claiming to be a victim of blackmail. With Gunnar threatening to expose her past, she had become his accomplice in several of Tacy’s accidents. But she had been adamant that the more deadly attacks had been all Gunnar, that he had set her up by planting the scuba gear in front of her shop and ac
ted alone in the kidnapping. But she was going to have a hard time proving her case, given her deadly menagerie of reptiles and snakes.
In the short bursts of time Seb and Tacy had been able to spend together, Seb had seen deeper emotions reflected in her eyes—sadness, longing, maybe even love. She said that she wanted to leave the past behind. But was she hoping to move forward in the same ways that he was?
If only he knew for sure.
The details were still being discussed, but right now it appeared that sometime in September, Timmy would spend a week in Chimney Bluff for a trial run, as Tacy had called it. But what did that mean? He worried that if it didn’t work, she might want to go back to the way it had been before he knew that he had a son.
But, no, that wasn’t fair to Tacy. She had been nothing but reasonable during their talks about Timmy’s future.
So, why was he focusing on worst-case scenario? Maybe because a whole passel of complications had nudged into his head. Turning down the job with the FBI had seemed like a sensible option. But now, with Timmy and Tacy leaving, the looming prospect of ranch life seemed just a bit bleak. And what about the logistics? Did they even let nine year-old kids fly by themselves these days? Probably not, which would mean Tacy would have to come along when Timmy visited.
Which could be a good thing. Or not. He didn’t want to assume anything.
He blew out a sigh and shook his head. He was doing it again. He was thinking about problems rather than opportunities. Tacy was still here, at least for the moment, which meant that he still had a chance to convince her to stay.
Once upon a time, he and Tacy had something precious and wonderful. For a while, it seemed that they had lost it, but it had always been there, just out of reach. This past week had been a journey of forgiving and being forgiven. His heart drummed against his rib cage. Ten years ago, he had stood by silently and allowed himself to lose what was most important in his life. Not again. He slammed down his coffee cup and headed outside to the front of the house.
Fatal Ranch Reunion Page 17