by Elle James
Several of the animals lifted their heads and stared in Trace’s direction.
Trace untied the bag of feed from behind his saddle and held it up. “Here, cow!” And he shook the bag.
One cow let out a long mooing sound.
Another one answered. Neither moved.
Trace shook the feed bag again. “Here, cow!”
A number of steers looked up and took several steps in Trace’s direction.
Again, Trace shook the feed bag. “Come on, don’t make me come after you,” he muttered.
Once two or three of the animals started in their direction, the others fell in line.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Matt said.
“They’re motivated by easy and tasty food.” Trace ripped open the bag and poured a little on the ground.
Several of the cows mooed loudly and picked up the pace.
“Let’s go,” Trace said.
“Won’t they stop when they find the grain on the ground?” Matt asked.
“I’ll leave a trail of bread crumbs for them to follow,” Trace said. “Or in this case, feed crumbs.” He dribbled a little feed in a line heading up to the top of the ridge. “We need to get ahead of them and move more of the fence debris.”
“On it.” Matt passed Trace and topped the ridge.
With the cattle on the move, Trace and Matt hurried back to the gap in the fence, dismounted and went to work. The sound of cattle bellowing urged them to go faster.
Trace moved one of the posts back and forth, working the soil around it loose. When he pulled it out of the ground, something shiny glinted in the dirt. He bent to retrieve what appeared to be a silver coin. When he turned it over and saw the image of Susan B. Anthony on the front, his hand and heart froze.
Matt took the post from where Trace had left it and tossed it to the side. “Find something interesting?” He came to stand beside Trace and looked down at the coin. “I have a coin like that. Your—our father gave it to me.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out one that looked just like the one in Trace’s hand.
Trace reached into his own jeans pocket and pulled out another. “Dad gave me this one when I left to join the army. He said his always gave him good luck.” He pointed to the dent on the edge. “It fell out of his pocket one day when he was working on an engine. It lodged in the sprockets and shut down the motor, saving him from losing several fingers.” He met Matt’s gaze.
“It was his, wasn’t it?” Matt said softly.
Trace’s eyes stung and his gut knotted. “Yeah. He never went anywhere without it.” He glanced around. “This must have been where he was shot. He might have been working this fence when it happened.” Trace looked around. “You take the Rocking J side. I’ll take the Whiskey Gulch side. Look for a bullet casing.”
“We don’t know how far away the shooter was,” Matt said. “He could have been yards away from here.”
“The sheriff said the ME reported the shots were fired in an upward angle. Like someone pointing at him from the ground at close range. My father was in his saddle when he was hit.”
For the next few minutes, they searched the area, kicking aside leaves, tufts of grass and barbed wire. They worked their way outward in a twenty-foot radius.
Matt finally straightened. “It’s going to be impossible to find one casing—”
At that moment, Trace spied a shiny brass shell. “Found one! And here are two more.”
Trace had bent over and was reaching for the first one when Matt called out, “Don’t touch it.” Matt hurried over to him, pulled a bandanna from his back pocket and bent to collect them, careful to lift the casings with the fabric of the handkerchief. “Sometimes they can collect fingerprints off the spent casings.” Matt wrapped the casings in the cloth and handed them to Trace. “Let’s get back to the house and call the sheriff.”
As Trace mounted his horse, the cattle emerged from the tree line, headed their way, mooing as they came. Soon, Trace, Matt and the horses were surrounded by cows moving through the gap in the fence.
A loud crack sounded above the sound of the bellowing cows and Trace felt something sting the side of his arm.
“Get down!” Matt shouted.
Trace slipped out of his saddle and dropped to the ground among the herd.
Matt did the same, moving with the animals through the fence to the other side.
Another crack sounded and one of the steers let out a frightened bellow and started running.
Sensing the fear, the rest of the herd stampeded through the gap in the fence.
Matt and Trace dived to the side, away from the column of animals pushing through.
Trace pulled his weapon out of his shoulder holster and waited for the herd to move past so he could see to take aim. The shooter had the advantage. He’d seen them and knew generally where they were.
“We need to move toward the tree line before all the cattle get by,” Trace yelled to Matt.
Trace crab-crawled backward, hugging the dirt, moving toward the trees. He prayed he and Matt would get there before their cover dispersed. Otherwise, they’d be easy targets for whoever wanted them dead.
* * *
“HURRY!” ROSALYNN URGED.
“Going as fast as I can,” Lily said.
Irish winced at every rut they hit, since the SUV was going faster than the vehicle was designed to go over open fields with hidden potholes and dangerous rocks.
“Right,” Rosalynn said from the back seat. “Go right. They were tracking along the fence bordering the Rocking J. That’s to the north.”
Lily jerked the steering wheel to the right and floored the accelerator. When they came to a fence, she turned left and drove through a narrow column between the fence and a stand of trees.
Irish tried to lean forward in his seat, but the seat belt was locked in place, keeping him firmly trapped in his seat.
In the distance Lily could see cattle stampeding through a break in the fence. “There!” she shouted. “Where the cows are running through the fence. Trace and Matt must be somewhere nearby.” She strained to see the two men. As they drew nearer, she saw a horse running with the cattle. It had a saddle, but no rider.
“There’s Lady,” Rosalynn said. “Matt was riding her. Where’s Matt?”
Lily saw Trace’s black gelding race by, heading for the barn. “Where’s Trace?” she asked as she stopped short of the herd of cattle.
Lily grabbed the gun from the glove box and shoved open her door.
Rosalynn leaned over the back of the seat and grabbed her arm. “Lily, you can’t go out there. You’ll be trampled.”
Lily shook the hand from her arm. “If Trace and Matt have fallen off their horses, they’ll be trampled. I can’t let that happen.” She slid out of the driver’s seat and ran toward the fence. If Trace and Matt had fallen off their horses, it would have been because they’d been shot. They might not be able to move away from the cattle leaping through the gap in the fence.
Her breath caught on a sob as she raced toward the stampeding animals.
Irish called out behind her, “Lily! Wait! That’s suicide!”
Suicide was a hell of a lot better option than to live after finding Trace dead. Now that he was back in her life, Lily didn’t want to live without him—couldn’t live without him. It would be more painful than being trampled to death by a herd of cattle.
The sound of an engine revving nearby made her turn her head long enough to see a four-wheeler dodging in and out of the stand of trees, heading in her direction.
Lily didn’t have time to get out of the way.
The man on the ATV raced toward her, slowing long enough to reach out and grab her arm. He yanked her over the seat in front of him and gunned the accelerator, sending the vehicle leaping forward.
Lily landed hard on her belly across
the man’s knees, the breath knocked out of her lungs. When she could move again, she struggled to push out of his grip.
The ATV rocked back and forth as the driver struggled to hold on to her and steer at the same time. When he couldn’t do both, he released the accelerator, threw her to the ground and dived on top of her. His helmet rolled off, exposing a shock of gray hair.
“I knew it,” she cried.
“So now you’re finally getting it,” he growled as he twisted his hand in her hair. Then he jammed a handgun against her temple and backed up to the fence. “Just in time to be my ticket out of here.”
The herd had crossed through the fence and continued toward the barn, leaving the clearing with the damaged fence in relative silence.
Lily scanned the ground, searching for Trace. She breathed a sigh when she didn’t see a body trampled in the earth. “Why did you do it?” Lily leaned back, trying to ease the pain of having her hair pulled so hard it made her scalp hurt. “Why did you kill James?”
“Why should he have had it all? Land, money, a loving wife. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve her.”
“And you did?”
“I worked hard, and for what?” His hand tightened in her hair.
Lily stood on her tiptoes to ease the pain.
“He fired me.” Roy pushed the barrel of the pistol into her temple. “All because I was nice to his wife.”
“The same way you were nice to Mrs. Talbot?” Lily asked.
“What do you know? She was going to marry me, and we would have run the ranch together.” Roy dragged Lily several yards along the fence line, toward the gap. “Her son talked her out of it. Moved her to Florida and sold the ranch I was supposed to own.”
“It wasn’t yours,” Lily said, trying to make conversation to distract him. To keep him from pulling the trigger.
“Whiskey Gulch should have been mine. I would have gotten away with it if the Travis brat hadn’t come home. It would have been mine.”
“And finding out the ranch wasn’t going to Rosalynn put a kink in your plan?” Lily said.
“Who knew old man Travis had two kids? One was bad enough. At least he didn’t want to run the ranch.” Roy twisted his hand in her hair. “It doesn’t matter. Once they’re both out of the way, the ranch will revert to the rightful owner.”
“To Rosalynn,” Lily said. “And you think she will marry you?”
“Yes.”
“After you kill her beloved son?” Lily forced a snort. “Face it, Roy. It’s over.”
“It’s over when I say it’s over.” He pulled the gun away from her head, fired it into the air and pointed it again at her temple. “If you don’t want the girl to die, you’ll do as I say,” Roy called out.
“What are you doing?” Lily searched the underbrush. Where were Trace and Matt?
“Gibson!” a voice called out from the direction Lily had come. Irish held up his hand. “Let her go. She’s done nothing to hurt you.”
“No, but she’s going to get me out of here,” he answered. “If her boyfriend isn’t too much of a coward.”
“Let her go, Roy.” Trace stepped out from behind a tree three yards away from where Roy stood with Lily. He pointed his handgun at Roy’s head.
“You won’t shoot me as long as I have her,” Roy said.
“Are you sure about that?” Trace asked.
“I have my finger on the trigger,” Roy said. “All I have to do is squeeze and she’s dead.”
“What do you want, Roy?” Trace asked, his weapon still pointed at the man’s head.
Roy shifted Lily, using her as a human shield. “I want it all. The ranch, the money, Rosalynn. Everything James had.”
“You’ll never have any of that.” Rosalynn’s voice came from Lily’s right. “Not the ranch, not the money and certainly not me.”
“But you liked me.”
“I like everyone,” Rosalynn said. “I loved my husband, and I love my son.” She shook her head. “I could never love you, Roy. Ever,” she said, her tone hard, her face angry. “You killed my soul mate. The only man I could ever love. I hope you rot in hell.”
“It’s over, Gibson,” Matt said. “Put the gun down.”
“We notified the sheriff,” Lily lied. “He’s on his way as we speak.”
“Then I’ll just have to take you with me.” Roy tightened his hold on Lily’s hair.
Anger surged inside Lily. Her gaze met Trace’s.
Trace frowned. “Lily?”
Tired of being a victim, Lily did what she’d been taught in a self-defense class. She went limp in Roy’s arms and sank in front of him.
His hand still knotted in her hair, he had to move the gun pressed to her temple in order not to be dragged down with her.
Lily ducked her head, squeezed her eyes shut and prayed.
Shots rang out.
She couldn’t tell if it was two or three. She waited for the pain. It didn’t come.
Roy’s grip on her hair loosened. He swayed and finally he fell, his body landing on top of Lily, crushing the air from her lungs.
Something warm and wet spread across her back. She struggled to move Roy off her, but his dead weight trapped her beneath him.
Then the weight was gone and Trace dropped to his knees beside her. “Lily, sweetheart, are you okay?” His hands roamed over her body. When his fingers swept over the damp spot on her back, he froze. “Dear sweet heaven, you’re hurt.”
Relieved she could breathe, she pushed to a sitting position.
“Don’t move. We need to apply pressure to the wound.” He tried to guide her back to a prone position.
Lily shook her head. “I’m okay,” she assured him. “I’m not hurt.”
“But the blood,” Trace said. “There’s so much.”
“It’s not mine.” She managed to sit upright, despite Trace’s attempts to keep her from doing so. “Really, I’m okay. None of the shots fired hit me.” She glanced toward Roy. “Who got him?”
“I did,” Trace, Irish and Matt answered as one.
Rosalynn knelt between Lily and Roy. “Are you all right?” she asked Lily.
Lily nodded. “I can’t say the same for Roy.”
The older woman stared down at the foreman, her eyes sad. “What gave him the idea he could kill my husband and then marry me?”
Matt joined her and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “He was a sick man.”
Lily leaned into Trace. “It’s over,” she whispered.
He nodded and touched his lips to the top of her head. “Yes, it is.”
* * *
“DOES THIS MEAN you’re heading back to active duty?” Lily held her breath, praying he would say no.
“Only for a little while. I need to put in for separation. I was due to reenlist next month.” He pushed to his feet and held out his hand to Lily.
She took it and let him pull her up and into his arms. “And now? Do you want to stay in the military for another nine years to get your twenty?”
Trace glanced around at the people surrounding them. “I think not. I’m needed here.”
Lily blinked, shocked by his answer, but afraid it was all a joke, or that she was asleep and when she opened her eyes, she’d wake to an alternate outcome.
He held her at arm’s length. “I want to stay,” he said. “But only if you stay with me.”
Lily’s eyes widened and a smile tugged at her lips. “Stay with you?” Her grin broadened. “Wild horses couldn’t drag me away.”
He pulled her close and crushed her lips with his. “I was so afraid I’d miss,” Trace said. “I couldn’t live without you. Not again.”
“You were afraid you’d miss.” Matt laughed, the sound harsh and without humor.
“I’m glad none of us missed,” Irish said, clutching a ha
nd to his midsection. “And, please, don’t drive back as fast as we drove here. I don’t think my insides can take it.”
Rosalynn patted Irish’s back. “Thank you. I don’t know what we would have done without you.”
“I caught most of what Roy said to you.” Trace shook his head and glanced at his mother. “I can’t believe he thought you’d marry him after losing Dad.”
“The man was clearly insane.” Rosalynn stared at Roy’s body. “If I’d had a gun on me, mine would have been the fourth bullet. For my husband and...” She reached for Lily’s hand. “For the woman who has become a daughter to me. I love you, Lily.”
Lily smiled at Rosalynn through blurred eyes. “I love you, too.”
“I’ll stay with the body,” Matt said, “while the rest of you head back to the ranch house and wait for the sheriff.”
Trace shook his head. “I’ll take the four-wheeler back to the barn for the supplies and tools we’ll need. Despite the circumstances, we need to get the fence patched.”
Lily hugged him around the waist. “I know how to work a come-along,” Lily offered. “I’ll go with you.”
Irish offered his arm to Rosalynn. “That leaves the two of us for heading back to the house.”
“We’ll call the sheriff and start supper,” Rosalynn said. “When the sheriff arrives, I’ll send Irish out with him to find you.”
“Sounds like a good plan.” Trace pressed a kiss to his mother’s cheek. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “I will be.” Her gaze dropped to Roy’s inert form. “I just wish I’d seen the signs.”
“He was good at hiding his dark thoughts,” Lily said. “I didn’t see it, either.”
“Come on,” Trace said. “The sooner the sheriff comes to collect Roy and we get that fence done, the sooner we get to go back to the house.” He hopped onto the four-wheeler Roy had ridden and scooted forward, giving Lily room to ride behind him.
Lily wrapped her arms around Trace’s waist and pressed her cheek against his back. She hadn’t been this happy in...well, in eleven years. Now that she and Trace were back together, she didn’t care where they ended up, as long as they had each other.