by Jennie Marts
Terror filled her at his words and the evil look on his face. She wasn’t sure if he meant to rape her or beat her with the belt, but she knew he meant to hurt her and hurt her bad. Her heart raced as he advanced on her.
Cash’s lessons filled her head as he drew closer, and she tried to tamp down her fear and focus on getting out of this alive.
He must have smelled her fear, because he suddenly rushed at her, grabbing her wrists and pulling her toward him. He certainly didn’t smell like fear, and she tried not to gag at the scent of alcohol oozing from his pores along with the smell of body odor and unwashed clothes.
Twisting her wrists the way she’d practiced, she broke free and kicked her foot into his kneecap. He bellowed in pain and swung his fist at her in a roundhouse punch.
Pulling back, she missed the full force of the blow, but the impact of his fist on her chin still sent her head snapping back and reeling from the shock.
Blinking back the tears of pain, she pushed the kitchen chair between them, trying to give herself another moment to regroup.
He knocked the chair out of the way, sending it crashing to the floor, and made another grab for her wrist. This time he pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her from behind and holding her back securely against his front.
The clasp of his belt poked into her back, reminding her that his pants were partially undone, and she gagged at the thought of him touching her.
She was all too aware of the fact that she was only wearing Cash’s T-shirt, and shuddered to think what would happen if Earl realized she wasn’t wearing a bra or underwear.
Fear rose in her, like a swell of lava bubbling to the surface, but instead of letting it freeze her into submission, she drew strength from it, pulled from the boiling mix of fury and terror that filled her.
His arm was locked across her chest, and his hand cupped her shoulder. She could see a thin line of grime under his thumbnail and remnants of grease or dirt in the creases of his knuckles.
Fighting her revulsion, she screwed up her courage, dipped her head and bit into the flesh of his hand. The coppery taste of blood hit her tongue as her teeth broke through his skin.
Ripping his hand away, he released his hold on her and she reared back, cracking the back of her head into his face as hard as she could.
Cash had most likely broken his nose during their fight at the fairgrounds, and her hit must have intensified the pain. He howled with rage and agony, and she took her chance while he was distracted to jab her elbow into his stomach.
Earl’s job required physical labor so, unlike Leroy’s flabby gut, his brother’s stomach was hard with muscle, and her elbow did little damage.
She stomped down on his instep with her bare heel. But his boots took the brunt of her force, and she doubted he noticed much.
Yanking away, she turned to face him, and saw sheer hatred in his eyes.
His hands were holding his battered nose, and his teeth were smeared red with the blood that dripped from it. “You little bitch.” His words were full of venom as he spat them at her. “You’re gonna pay for that.”
Her heart pounded against her chest, but she pushed back the fear.
I’m smarter than he is. I can do this.
She searched wildly around the kitchen, looking for something to use as a weapon. The counters were bare, except for the coffeepot and a toaster. A cast-iron skillet sat on the stove, the filmy white residue of bacon grease lining the inside of it.
The coffeepot was out, too awkward, and the toaster was too bulky.
Racing for the stove, she clasped her hand around the thick handle of the heavy cast-iron skillet.
Earl was right on her heels and grabbed for the fabric of her T-shirt, hauling her back.
But she already had the skillet in her hand.
She turned toward him, planting her feet and swiveling her hip—just as she’d practiced with Cash—then kicked her foot out sideways to connect with his crotch.
He let out an “oomph” as he doubled over in pain, then reached out and grabbed her leg before she could get her balance.
Standing on one foot, she grabbed the handle of the pan with both hands and swung with all her might—swung like it was a bat and she was trying for a home run with the bases loaded. But this wasn’t a game.
This was her life she was fighting for.
Earl dropped her foot to lift his hands in defense of his head, but it was too late, and the force of the pan connected with his skull with a sickening thud.
The remnants of the grease flew in an arc, filling the air with the scent of bacon, and landed with a splat on the floor.
Clutching his head, Earl weaved on his feet, then reached out for her, swinging his fists as he swore. “I’m going to fucking kill you, bitch.”
Charging toward her, his foot hit the bacon grease, and he slid forward, his arms now pinwheeling as he tried to regain his balance.
But it was too late. The force of his own weight carried him down, and his head hit the side of the kitchen table as he fell.
She held her breath, her body still in a defensive stance, ready to fight.
His whole body slumped to the floor, and she released her breath as she realized the last hit must have knocked him out.
The bastard was going to have one hell of a headache in the morning. Served him right.
Remembering that she’d spied a roll of duct tape there earlier that week, she yanked open the junk drawer and pulled out the tape and a pair of scissors.
Kneeling beside him, she wrapped the tape around his hands several times, then wound the ends of it around the legs of the kitchen chair. It gave her the willies to be this close to him, afraid he might wake up any second, and her hands were shaking so badly, she almost dropped the tape.
After one more loop around the chair legs, she twisted another layer around his hands, sadistically pressing it down onto his hairy forearms and hoping it would hurt like a bitch to pull it off. She probably used half a roll of duct tape, but she didn’t care.
She wasn’t taking any chances that he was getting away this time. And if he did, he’d be dragging this chair along behind him.
Grabbing the wireless phone from the counter, she punched in 911 as she scooted around his body and raced for Cash. Thankful for once for the terrible cell reception in Montana, she was glad the cabin had a landline available to call for help.
Sinking to the floor, she cradled Cash’s head in her lap as the dispatcher picked up the phone. “911 operator. What is your emergency?”
“I need you to send an ambulance and the police to the Tucker Farm, on Route 2. Tell them Earl Purvis is here. He attacked us, and Cash Walker has been injured. Tell them to hurry.”
“I’ve dispatched an ambulance to the Tucker Farm on Route 2 and notified the sheriff’s office. Help is on the way. Is the intruder still on the premises?”
“Yes.” She stroked Cash’s forehead, pushing back his hair to reveal a nasty cut above his eyebrow.
“Is he armed?”
“No, he’s passed out on the kitchen floor. I hit him in the head with a cast-iron skillet.”
“Are you armed? Is there a gun in the house?”
“No, I mean, I don’t know. I don’t have one, but there probably is.”
“Do you have a weapon? Besides the skillet?”
“No, I’m fine. But Cash is bleeding. Earl hit him in the head with a piece of firewood.”
“Is he breathing?”
“Yes.”
“Is he conscious?”
“No.”
The dispatch operator walked her through more questions, trying to determine how she could help Cash.
She looked back down at him, and gently touched his cheek.
His eyes opened, and he blinked up at her. His hand went to his forehead as he mumbled, “What the hell happened?”
“Earl knocked you out.”
He tried to sit up, pushing against her. “Where is he?”
�
�Lie back. He’s passed out on the floor.” She smoothed his hair as he relaxed back into her lap. “You took a good hit to the head, too.”
“What happened to him? I don’t remember.”
A grin of pride crept across her face. “I beaned him in the head with your skillet.”
“You did?” He chuckled then grimaced in pain, and his eyes fluttered closed. “Good girl.” He opened his eyes again. “I hope you didn’t damage my skillet.”
She laughed as she heard the sounds of sirens approaching the farm. “I’ll buy you a new one.” She couldn’t imagine cooking with the dang thing again, but she might hang it on the wall to symbolize her newfound bravery.
A small meow sounded, and Percy raced out from under the sofa and pounced into Emma’s lap. She grabbed the kitten and cuddled it to her chest. “There you are. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
The front door opened, and the sheriff and one of his deputies burst in, followed closely by the EMTs.
“You guys okay?” Taylor asked, his gaze traveling around the room. The corners of his mouth tipped up in a grin as he spied Earl tied to the kitchen chair with duct tape. “Looks like you found Earl.”
“He hit Cash on the head with a log of firewood,” Emma explained as the EMT squatted down to examine Cash.
He shined a light in Cash’s now open eyes and picked up his hand to check his pulse rate. “How long was he out?”
She shook her head. The whole thing had happened so fast. Even though it had felt like it was happening in slow motion at times, the whole incident probably lasted only five minutes. “I don’t know for sure. He was passed out when I came out of the room, then I fought with Earl and tied him up. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes.”
“I don’t think I was out that whole time,” Cash said. “I was kind of in and out, but my head does hurt.”
“You’re showing signs of a concussion. We’re going to take you in to the hospital to get you checked out.” The other paramedic was already wheeling in the stretcher.
“I don’t need a hospital, just get me up to the couch.” He tried to sit up and swayed as his eyes fluttered with dizziness. “Well, hell,” he said as he slumped back against Emma.
“Hospital it is then,” she said, then looked up at the paramedic. “Can I come with him?”
He turned away to assist with getting Cash onto the stretcher. “Sure, but you might want to put on some pants.”
Oh crap. She still wasn’t wearing any underwear.
Hopefully, she hadn’t just flashed the EMT guy. Heat flamed her cheeks as she stood up and pulled Cash’s T-shirt down farther to cover her legs. “Good idea. I’ll do that, then meet you at the ambulance.”
She curled the kitten into the pillows, making a nest for it in the corner of the sofa, then stood just as Charlie, Zack, and Sophie burst into the room.
Sophie spied Cash being loaded onto the stretcher and cried out as she raced to his side.
Charlie hurried across the room and threw her arms around Emma. “Oh my lord. What happened? We heard the sirens and could see the lights across the pasture. Are you okay?”
For the first time since she’d come out of the room and found Earl standing there, tears pricked her eyes. She’d been so focused on survival and the fight, she hadn’t had time for emotions. But having Charlie’s comforting arms around her and hearing her caring words hit a spot right in the center of Emma’s heart.
She fought back the tears, burying her face in Charlie’s shoulder. She’d always felt alone, fighting her battles against Leroy in a solitary prison of isolation. But now she wasn’t alone anymore. This is what it felt like to have friends, to have people who cared about you.
The enormity of it hit her like a ton of bricks in the chest, and she wanted to weep with the sheer happiness of having other people to share in her struggles, her joys, her life. “Yes, I’m okay. They think Cash has a concussion, though. They’re taking him to the hospital to check him out.”
A ripping sound followed by a yowl of pain had them turning toward the kitchen to see Taylor trying not to laugh as he worked to free Earl from the kitchen chair.
He looked up at Emma with a grin. “Do you think you used enough duct tape?”
She shrugged, the ball of emotion loosening in her chest as the humor of the situation hit her, and she grinned back. “I didn’t want to take a chance on him getting away.”
“You did good. He’s not going anywhere except the county lockup. His brothers are waiting for him there.”
Earl writhed against the sheriff’s legs and cursed her name, but Emma ignored him as she turned back to Charlie. “I’ve got to get dressed so I can go in the ambulance with Cash.”
“Pants would probably be a good idea. And I’d probably put on a bra, otherwise the EMTs won’t be paying any attention to Cash in the back of the ambulance.” She followed Emma into the bedroom, letting her get dressed while she searched the pockets of the jeans that lay on the floor. “I’ve got Cash’s wallet in case he needs his ID or his insurance card.”
“Good idea.” She only had the clothes she’d arrived in, so she stuck with Cash’s T-shirt, but added a bra, then pulled on her jeans and boots, before heading for the door.
Charlie followed on her heels. “I’m coming with you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do. Cash was the first friend I made in Montana. He’s like family to me.” She put an arm around Emma’s waist and leaned in conspiratorially. “And from the frantic call I got last night asking if he could give you the kitten and the looks of those rumpled sheets, I’d say you’re going to be joining the family soon.”
“Oh. What about Percy?” She turned back, looking for the kitten, then smiled.
Sophie had the little cat cuddled in her arms as she hurried over and gave Emma a quick hug. “Don’t worry, I’m on kitten duty and will make sure he’s taken care of. Dad and I will stay here until the sheriff’s department leaves, then we’ll meet you at the hospital.”
“Thanks, kiddo,” Charlie said, giving Sophie a quick squeeze before hustling Emma out the front door and into the ambulance.
So this was what having a family felt like.
She could get used to this.
Charlie waved. “I’ll follow you in the truck so you have a ride home. Don’t worry. I’ll be right behind you.”
Cash looked pale against the white sheet of the stretcher, dried red blood smeared on his forehead and crusted into his black hair. The EMT was administering oxygen, but Cash’s eyes were open and alert, and he reached for her hand.
The feel of his strong callused hand in hers gave her strength, and she squeezed his palm, hoping to give some of that strength back to him.
They’d been through so much. But they’d gotten through it and come out on the other side.
Had it only been an hour ago that Cash had asked her to marry him?
This night seemed to last forever.
But as the ambulance pulled out of the driveway and sped down the highway toward the hospital, Cash tilted his head, pulled down the oxygen mask, and gave her one of his panty-melting grins. And she was thankful for every hour, every minute, every second of what they had endured.
Each moment had brought them closer together; whether they were fighting as a team against the Purvis brothers, or wrestling in the sheets, they’d done it together.
Except that last part where she’d taken on Earl alone, and she’d come out the victor.
She’d needed to do that by herself. And she had.
And now she was ready. Ready to stand on her own, strong enough to enter into a relationship with the ridiculously hot cowboy who lay on the stretcher in front of her.
Squeezing his hand, she grinned back.
Yes, she was definitely ready for that.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Several months had passed since the incident with Leroy and the Purvis brothers. Cash had only spent one night in the hospital and rested
for all of about ten minutes before he was back to working on the farm.
Thankfully, the other ranch hand, Buckshot, had returned from his trip and could take more of the chores while Cash recuperated.
Emma had moved her things into his cabin, and they had spent the last few months learning about each other, in the bedroom and out.
But a lot of in. That was her favorite kind of learning.
And Cash Walker was an excellent teacher.
Everything was falling into place, and she couldn’t be happier. She’d started classes at the community college in Great Falls to be a veterinarian technician and had been working part time in the afternoons as the receptionist at the vet clinic with Zack. She still spent her mornings at the diner, filling in for Cherry, who’d announced that she was pregnant the week after the Fall Festival.
She and Cash had planned a spring wedding, but after Emma discovered her own plus sign on the pregnancy test she took earlier that month, they’d decided a Christmas wedding would work just as well.
Keeping it simple, she’d told Cash that all she needed was a justice of the peace, a bouquet of wildflowers, and her dad to walk her down the aisle. She didn’t care about the rest. She’d had the church wedding, and that hadn’t worked out so well, so this time she was going a different route.
She’d still take her vows before God, and a few witnesses, but she didn’t need the cake and the seven bridesmaids and the long train. Although, she was wearing a blue satin garter under her simple white dress, but that was for Cash to discover later.
Cherry and Charlie had become her best friends, and there was no way that they were getting left out of the ceremony. The two women, plus Sophie, planned to spend the morning pampering her, doing her hair and nails and makeup, and fussing over every detail.
“We’re celebrating this wedding morning in style. I’m making mimosas,” Charlie announced as she dropped her things on the coffee table in the living room of the cabin. She pointed to Cherry and Sophie who were already sitting on the sofa with Emma, the gray kitten cuddled in the teenager’s lap. “You two get virgin mimosas.”