Operation Cowboy Daddy

by Carla Cassidy

  Mary leaned against the doorjamb. “I know and knowing is enough for me.”

  “Tony is a much better man than Rick.”

  “But he’s still a man,” Mary protested. She drew in a deep breath and recognized since the moment Tony had entered her life she’d been wallowing in a self-pity that had been absent from her life for years.

  Halena stood and walked over to her. She placed her hands on Mary’s shoulders and peered at her intently. “You do yourself a disservice, my granddaughter, and I believe you do a disservice to Tony. You’re strong and beautiful. You’re a survivor.”

  “I am strong and I’m smart. I am a survivor and I have a wonderful, fulfilling life,” she replied and straightened her shoulders. “I don’t need a man to make me feel like a woman. For the last couple of weeks I’ve forgotten that I’m okay just the way I am.”

  “You’re better than okay,” Halena replied.

  Mary nodded. “And tomorrow you and I go home alone and get on with our lives, and we won’t speak of this again,” she said firmly.

  Halena dropped her arms back to her sides. “Then it is so,” she replied. She walked back to the bed and sank down on the mattress. “But the leaves on the trees tell me you’ll live with regret if you don’t completely put your heart on the line with Tony.”

  “The leaves on the trees can whisper all they want, but my mind won’t change,” she retorted.

  She returned to her own room, where she pulled on her nightgown and then crawled into bed. A new sense of peace drifted through her.

  Certainly she would always ache for what would never be, but it was time to remember who she was—a strong, proud woman who had a good life.

  Thankfully, she fell asleep immediately. She dreamed that she was standing on the edge of a cliff. A cold wind buffeted her and she knew the only way to get out of the icy wind was to jump. But she couldn’t see what was beneath the cliff.

  She was pulled from the dream and awakened by a loud clanging noise coming from someplace outside. She jumped out of bed and ran out of her room. She met Halena in the hallway.

  “What’s going on?” Mary asked as she flipped on the hallway light. “What’s that bell?”

  Halena shrugged and Cassie flew out of her bedroom, her eyes wide with fear. “It’s the cowbell on the front porch,” Cassie said. “It’s only rung when there’s an emergency.”

  At that moment the sound of motorcycles filled the air, followed quickly by gunfire.

  * * *

  Tony awakened to the ringing of the cowbell. He shot out of bed, his heartbeat thundering loudly in his ears. Jerod was on night guard duty and he’d ring the bell for only one reason.

  Danger!

  Above the cowbell, the roar of motorcycles broke the silence of the night. Then gunfire. What the hell? Tony pulled on his jeans and a T-shirt, then grabbed his gun and cracked open his door.

  In the spill of moonlight, four motorcycles were visible. They raced around, tearing up the yard and shooting indiscriminately in all directions.

  Ash.

  The name boomed in Tony’s head.

  He was here for his son and he’d brought his army to help him. Tony’s blood froze as he gripped his gun firmly in his hand.

  Doors began to creak open in the cowboy motel, letting Tony know the other men were awake. They would have their own guns and there was a potential for a bloodbath.

  The night had gone mad. The men on the motorcycles were like marauding thugs from hell who were bent on destruction. It was impossible to see any of their faces. They were just dark silhouettes with headlights beaming brightly.

  “What in the hell?” Sawyer stepped out of his room and into the open and then yelped and stumbled back into his room.

  Tony’s heart plummeted. Had Sawyer been shot? Was he hurt badly? Somehow Tony needed to get to him and check on his condition. Dammit, this was all his fault and the last thing he wanted was for any of the cowboys to get hurt.

  He opened his door a little more and fell to the ground, hoping the darkness of the night would cover him enough for him to get to Sawyer’s room.

  Despite the coolness of the night his hands were sweaty and even above the roar of the motorcycles he heard his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

  He crawled to Sawyer’s door and only rose up enough to turn the doorknob and open the door. He threw himself into the room, slammed the door behind him and stood. Sawyer was on the bed, a bloody towel pressed to his shoulder.

  “How bad is it?” Tony asked.

  “I think it’s just a flesh wound, but it’s made me mad enough to hurt somebody,” Sawyer replied.

  Tony gazed at his friend worriedly. He didn’t look like he was going to hurt anyone anytime soon. His face was pale and it was obvious he was in pain.

  Gunfire still rang out and Tony worried what other casualties might happen before this night was over. “I’ve got to get to the house,” he said urgently. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine. Go,” Sawyer replied.

  Tony had to get to the women and Joey and make sure they were okay, make sure they stayed safe. That was where Ash would go, and he needed to make sure he got there before Ash did.

  “Call Dillon,” he said to Sawyer and then he opened the door and slid out into the chaos of the night.

  He crouched just outside of Sawyer’s room and watched the men on the motorcycles tearing back and forth, hooting and shooting. It was like a macabre scene from one of Halena’s B-rated action flicks, except the danger was real and the bullets were deadly.

  Adam crawled up next to him. “Tony, you okay?” He had to yell to be heard above the revving engines.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. Sawyer took a bullet in the shoulder. I need to get to the house. I know Jerod was on guard duty tonight, but I don’t know where he is now.” The cowbell had stopped ringing minutes after the motorcycles had arrived and Tony worried about what might have happened to Jerod.

  An urgent frustration filled him. All the lights in the house were on, like beacons crying out for help through the dark night. The house appeared a hundred miles away and there were crazed men on motorcycles with guns between him and the house where he needed to be. The air was thick with the acrid odors of gunpowder and gasoline.

  “If I can get to the stables, from there I could probably make my way to the house,” Tony said. Several shots rang out from the doorways of the bunkhouse.

  Tony turned his head to look behind them and saw several shadows racing across the lawn with guns blazing. As a couple of the motorcycles veered off in their direction, Tony prayed none of his other “brothers” got hurt.

  “I’ll try to cover you,” Adam replied. “On the count of three.”

  Tony drew in a deep breath, and when Adam got to three, he took off running. Adam fired a blaze of bullets as Tony raced across the open ground.

  He got halfway to the stables before he caught one of the riders’ attention. The motorcycle turned to give chase.

  “Yahoo!” the driver yelled, and if Tony hadn’t cut right and slid to the ground, the motorcycle would have struck him. As it was, it passed so close Tony felt the heat of the engine.

  He got to his feet and ran, but a look over his shoulder let him know the motorcycle had turned around and was bearing down on him again.

  As the driver began to fire his gun, Tony rolled to the ground, aimed and fired.

  The driver cursed and lost control of his ride. Both rider and motorcycle fell to the ground. The engine whined like a baby wanting a bottle as the man cursed and screamed.

  Joey. Mary! He had to get to the house. Where were the women? Were they all huddled together in the great room? Upstairs in one of the bedrooms? And where was Ash Moreland?

  With a burst of adrenaline, Tony managed to make it t
o the stables, where he ducked just inside the door. Where was Dillon? It felt as if hours had passed since he’d told Sawyer to call the law.

  There was so much gunfire. His gut tightened and he swiped his sweaty gun hand on his jeans. People were going to be hurt. People were going to die tonight.

  He peeked outside the door and cursed as he saw the two motorcycles zigzagging between him and the house. He had to get past them. He had a sinking, horrific terror that told him Mary and Joey were in immediate peril.

  * * *

  “Take Joey and go upstairs to your room,” Cassie said urgently.

  The three women had been standing helplessly in the great room while all hell broke loose outside. Cassie had been peering out the window since the commotion had begun and they had all come downstairs.

  “Can you see Tony? Is he all right?” Mary asked as fear made her heart beat a million thumps a minute.

  “It’s too dark. I can’t tell who is who, but the motorcycles are moving closer to the house. Please, Mary, go upstairs and hide in your room with the baby. You know he’s who they’re after.”

  Mary hugged Joey tightly against her chest. He’d been crying since the roar of the first motorcycle, as if he knew the danger he was in.

  “Go, granddaughter,” Halena said firmly.

  Mary turned and hurried up the stairs. There was so much gunfire. Had Tony been hurt? Oh, God, was he lying out there bleeding? Had any of the other men been shot? Joey wailed as she turned into her bedroom.

  She walked over to the side of the window and craned her neck to peer outside. She saw only dark silhouettes moving through the night and the headlights of the motorcycles as they roared back and forth across the yard.

  She rocked Joey in her arms, trying to soothe him even as her fear rose so high she wanted to scream and cry with him. “It’s all right, baby boy,” she whispered. She tried to calm herself, hoping that would help him settle down.

  He finally calmed down enough that she placed him in the crib and turned on the whirling mobile. He stared up at the dancing figures and waved his hands.

  Protect him from evil and please protect Tony.

  She turned around and gasped as the closet door flew open and Ash Moreland stepped out. “Little Mary Redbird,” he said as he pointed his gun at her.

  “My name is Mary Redwing,” she replied, her voice nothing more than a trembling whisper. She leaned her back against the crib and stretched her arms out on either side of her to rest on the top of the railing.

  Protect him from evil. The words once again screamed in her brain. Evil was now upon them.

  “Whatever,” he replied. “I appreciate you taking care of my boy, but now it’s time he come home to Daddy.”

  “He’s not your son, Ash. Amy was seeing another man and Joey is his son.” Her entire body went cold as he narrowed his dark eyes. Frantically she glanced around for something she could use as a weapon, but there was nothing that could equal his gun.

  “You’re a liar,” he snarled. “Now give him to me.”

  Mary tightened her grip on the railing. “I’d rather die than allow you to have him.”

  “That can be arranged. I’ll give you to the count of three to move away from that crib so I can get my boy. One...”

  Sirens sounded in the distance. “The police are coming. Just go,” she exclaimed. “If you hurry, you can get out of here before they arrest you.”

  “I’m not leaving without my son. Two...”

  Mary could only pray that the sound of his gunfire would bring somebody running and they would save Joey before Ash could escape with him.

  There was no way she was going to step aside or hand Joey over to this monster. She sent up a silent prayer that Joey and Tony would survive this night and that Halena wouldn’t mourn her too deeply.

  “Three.”

  Tony flew through the door at the same time Ash fired his gun. The bullet intended for Mary slammed into his body at the same time he shot Ash.

  Both Ash and Tony fell to the floor. Mary screamed and Joey wailed. She ran to Tony, horrified to see a blossom of red on the front of his shirt.

  “Tony?” Tears half blinded her as she fell to the floor at his side.

  “Is he dead?” Tony’s eyes were at half-mast and his breathing was labored. “Did I kill him?”

  Mary glanced over to Ash. The bullet had caught him in his throat and there was no doubt that the man was dead. “Yes...yes, he’s dead.”

  “Good.” His eyes drifted closed.

  “Stay with me, Tony,” she cried.

  His eyes fluttered open. “Mary, take good care of Joey,” he gasped just before his eyes closed and didn’t open again.

  “Tony! Tony, open your eyes and talk to me,” Mary screamed as tears blurred her vision. He’d taken the bullet meant for her and now he was dying.

  A grief she’d never known before ripped through her. He’d sacrificed himself for her and for the son he loved.

  “Mary... Mary, get up and let them attend to him.” Halena’s voice pierced through the sheer agony that gripped her. She looked up to see two EMTs. It was only then she realized the sound of the motorcycles had stopped.

  “Help him,” she said as she got up to her feet. “Hurry, he’s been shot.”

  Cold. She was so cold. She wanted Tony’s arms around her to warm her. She needed him to get up and tell her everything was going to be okay.

  But he didn’t awaken as they loaded him on a stretcher. His utter stillness frightened her more than Ash’s gun pointed at her chest.

  Halena walked over to the crib and picked up Joey, who still cried. Take good care of Joey. Just before they were ready to carry Tony down the stairs she leaned down to him. “I will not take care of your son. You need to be strong. You need to be okay and take care of him yourself,” she whispered.

  He didn’t move.

  She followed them down the stairs, where police officers were in the kitchen with Cassie and several of the cowboys. “There’s a dead man upstairs,” she said to anyone who might listen. “I’ve got to get to the hospital.”

  “I’ll take you,” Juan Ramirez said.

  “And I’ll go upstairs.” Officer Mike Jeffries pulled his gun and left the room.

  The ambulance had already taken off by the time Mary got outside the back door. In a daze, she took in all the activity before her. Another ambulance was parked with Sawyer sitting in the back. A man clad in dirty jeans and a black leather jacket sat on the ground, cursing a blue streak as he pressed a towel to his upper arm.

  Two men were in the back of Dillon’s patrol car, and when Dillon saw her, he hurried over to where she stood. “Are you all right?”

  “Tony got shot and he killed Ash. Ash is upstairs and he’s dead,” she said. Dillon gestured for two more men to go into the house.

  “I told her I’d take her to the hospital,” Juan said.

  Dillon nodded. “Mary, I’ll meet you there when I can. I’ve still got a mess to clean up here.”

  Minutes later she sat in the passenger seat of Juan’s patrol car as they headed to the small hospital in town. The daze that had descended on her when she’d gone downstairs still had hold of her.

  “At least it’s over now,” Juan said. “With Ash dead you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

  “Yes, it’s over.” She stared out the passenger window. It was over, but at what cost? Tony might die. He might already be dead.

  The thought caused the air to whoosh from her lungs and blew a bleak coldness through her entire body. He had to be alive. He just had to be okay. Joey needed him now more than ever.

  Juan pulled into the hospital emergency room parking lot and together they got out of the car. Mary ran ahead of him and entered the empty waiting room. A receptionist sat behin
d a glass window.

  “Can I help you?” she asked after opening the window.

  “Tony Nakni, I need to know how he’s doing.” Mary was vaguely aware of Juan standing just behind her. “He was just brought in by ambulance.”

  “I’ll go check. I’ll be right back.” She slammed the window closed and disappeared.

  Mary continued to stare at the window, willing the woman to come back and tell her that Tony was just fine and he would walk out of the emergency room doors at any moment.

  Every nerve in her body tensed as seconds ticked by.

  “He’s tough, Mary,” Juan said softly.

  “Nobody is tough when a bullet flies,” she replied.

  Finally the woman returned to the window. “He’s in surgery now. The doctor told me to tell you to prepare for a long wait.”

  A long wait? That could only mean he was badly hurt. Mary’s knees buckled and Juan took her by the elbow and guided her to one of the chairs.

  She collapsed and prepared herself for an endless night.

  Chapter 16

  Full consciousness came to Tony slowly. His first awareness was the click and whir of some sort of a machine, then the unmistakable antiseptic smell of a hospital.

  His mind was a bit fuzzy. The last thing he remembered was Ash’s deep voice counting down to shoot Mary and grab Joey.

  What had happened? He’d shot at Ash. Had he hit him? Or had he missed and fallen unconscious, leaving the two people he loved more than anything on the face of the earth in danger?

  He snapped open his eyes and tried to sit up but released a small groan as pain shot through his lower chest on the left side.

  It was then he saw her.

  Mary.

  She was slumped back in the chair by the window, her head turned to face him as she slept. He breathed a sigh of relief. She wouldn’t be sleeping in his hospital room if any danger remained.

  Despite the dark shadows that clung beneath her eyes, in spite of the tousled strands of her hair, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

  He’d been looking at her for about ten minutes when her eyes slowly opened. “Tony!” She jumped out of the chair and came to the side of his bed. “How do you feel?” A worry furrow appeared across her forehead.