by Debra Cowan
A distinct sense of danger—blatant, immediate—slammed into her. Her gaze moved along the border of trees, tried to probe the shadows beyond. A flash of light glinted from the woods.
She froze and her head came up slowly.
Eyes glittered in the shade of trees and a face stared back at her. Even as her mind tried to force away the image, she registered it. It wasn’t a trick of her eyes. Or a product of the fear that hounded her.
A large, black shape, now plainly that of a man, stood in the trees. Dark eyes bored into her. The man moved slightly forward, only enough to bring his face into the light. His arm lowered and Jenna dimly registered that he held a camera.
Ramsey!
Her body tightened painfully. Every beat of her heart slammed like a punishing blow against her ribs. For an instant, she stood paralyzed, raked by horror. Denial. Disbelief.
In that moment, he smiled at her. Broad and smug and evil, that smile unlocked every nightmare she’d ever had about him.
He’d come for her, just as Mace had predicted.
Panic exploded, blanking her thoughts, her reason for an instant. A scream rose in her throat and her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Then the horror broke free.
She screamed. Spinning toward Linc, she screamed again. “It’s him! He’s in the trees!”
Chapter 7
Jenna bolted toward Linc, her ribs and bruised thighs protesting. Fear pumped through her, diligent, relentless.
Mace, gun drawn, sprinted past her. Linc followed, leaping a headstone on his way toward the woods.
Get him. Oh, please, get him. Jenna swallowed hard, her heart racing, torn between following and crawling into the back seat of Mace’s sedan. “Be careful!” she whispered after them, her throat closing up.
Mace dodged several graves, then yelled over his shoulder.
“Linc, go back! Stay with her!”
Linc skirted a small sitting bench.
“Go back!” Mace waved his brother toward Jenna.
Only then did Linc stop. He skidded to a halt, looking from Jenna to Mace. Startled realization crossed his features and he wheeled around, sprinting back toward her.
He stopped in front of her, his sandy hair disheveled, sweat glistening on his forehead. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, her gaze locked on the woods as Mace disappeared from sight. Sheer terror clawed through her. Deke Ramsey was here. He’d seen her.
The words sliced through her restraint, leaving her quivering next to the car. Ramsey, Ramsey, Ramsey.
She couldn’t pull her mind from the words. They circled viciously in her head and she wrapped her good arm around her waist, huddling into herself in an effort to escape the terror, the uncertainty tightening around her neck like a noose.
Where was Mace? She wanted to see him.
Linc peered closely into her face, panting. “I’m sorry I took off like that. It was just—I didn’t even think about it.”
She nodded again, hearing what he said, but barely registering the words. Her ears pounded from the sound of footsteps crashing through undergrowth, the startled chatter of birds and animals as humans interrupted their sanctuary.
She could hear Mace shout at Ramsey, order him to stop.
Her gaze moved to Linc’s and they shared a moment of dread.
“He’ll get the bastard, Jenna.”
She nodded, not believing anymore, tears stinging her eyes as panic knocked at her. She couldn’t fall apart. She wouldn’t. The crackling of undergrowth grew dimmer; the shouting stopped. Her nerves stretched taut, anticipating a gunshot. Waiting. Waiting.
A shot rang out. Then another.
Jenna jumped, fear clawing through her. Linc swore viciously. Both their gazes riveted on the woods. Birds screamed and tore through the trees in squawking protest. Then... nothing.
The birds settled. One second stretched into a moment, then longer, abrading her nerves, eroding her control.
“Where is he? Where’s Mace?” She turned to Linc, praying his brother was all right. “Why haven’t we heard anything?”
He shook his head, concern darkening his gaze to metal gray.
“Maybe you should go—”
“No, I won’t leave you.” Despite his authoritative tone, he looked torn.
She moved closer to him, reassured by the warmth of his body, by his solid presence. Dread hammered through her; her muscles snapped tight against the threat circling around them.
Where was Mace? What was happening? Fear and hate and anger collided inside her. Damn Ramsey for disturbing today, of all days! He had ruptured the peaceful silence at Wilbur’s grave. Ramsey’s appearance spilled onto the sacred day like an encroaching black tide, dimming the sunlight, turning the air from clean to putrid and heavy with the scent of fear.
Again, he had violated something pure, destroyed, invaded. Jenna felt dirty and angry. Weighted by a growing sadness, a shudder rippled through her. Time scraped by and still no sign of Mace. No sound of gunfire or struggle from the woods. What was happening?
A touch on her arm pulled her attention from the woods. Linc spoke, looking at her with alarm in his gray eyes.
His touch was gentle yet firm on her elbow. He leaned down, his gaze examining as he looked into her eyes. “Jenna, talk to me. Jenna?”
“I can hear you,” she said woodenly.
His gaze searched hers, deep and measuring. Realization filtered through the numbness of her mind. Ramsey could’ve killed her, could’ve killed Linc. Might already have killed Mace.
She trembled, so fiercely that her muscles clenched painfully in an effort to control it.
“You’re shaking like a leaf,” Linc muttered, anger vibrating from him. Glancing at the woods, he moved slightly to shield her body with his.
Her control slipped; she wanted to throw herself at Linc, wrap herself around him. Gritting her teeth, she held on, praying for strength, some sign of Mace.
“Jenna, look at me.” Linc’s sharp voice penetrated her panic. “Stay with me.”
She tried. Tried to focus on the caring eyes of the man in front of her, the broad expanse of his denim shirt, the steadiness of his voice.
He had turned to face her and now looked her over from head to toe, peered again into her face, then opened his arms, stepping toward her. “I won’t hurt you.”
That old wariness surged through her. But this time it was combated by a fierce longing to gather strength from someone. From him.
He watched her. Worry about Mace fringed his eyes, but he waited patiently for her, offering whatever she wanted.
She wouldn’t fall apart, but oh, how she needed his strength. She took in his features, worried pale beneath his tan. Her gaze locked on his, she stepped forward, one step, then another. He waited, making it plain she could take only what she needed, what she wanted.
Jenna felt as if she were reaching, stretching, fighting the old fear, the old scars of her soul. Then she stepped into his arms. They closed around her, strong and big and safe. Relief and comfort sluiced through her.
“It’s all right,” he whispered against her hair. “You’re safe. I won’t let him hurt you.”
For a long moment, she stood stiffly in his embrace, her body rigid, poised for a fight. A little voice in her head urged her to surrender, to give in to the urge to sag against him, but Jenna was afraid that if she did, she would break down and sob.
Linc stroked her back and held her close, saying nothing for a while, offering unconditional support with his body.
When he spoke, he said softly against her hair, “It’s okay, Jenna. You’re okay. I’m only going to hold you. I won’t hurt you.”
She wanted to tell him she knew that, knew he would never harm her, that he only wanted to comfort her, but the words wouldn’t come.
The strength of his body seeped into her, sawed through the last thread of her restraint. Her shoulders sagged and she leaned into him. Closing her eyes, she burrowed her face into his neck.
&n
bsp; Dark musky male assaulted her senses, wrapped around her like a teasing curl of smoke and her good arm went around his waist. Her palm flattened against the strong sinew of his back and she held on, waiting for Mace, for some word of Ramsey.
For the first time in long seconds, she took a breath. She was safe. Linc was safe. For now.
She needed to feel his warmth, the weight of his body against hers. She pressed close to him, closer. Still she trembled.
He held her tightly, solidly and after a moment, the fear receded. She surrendered to the comfort. Her body relaxed into his; she shifted her head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent, his strength. A sense of safety flowed over her.
Linc’s heart thudded sharp and evenly against her breasts. Lean powerful thighs braced hers. His warm breath stirred the hair at her temple. She wanted to collapse, to sink into him, to forget.
A sound stirred in the trees. Footsteps rustled through the grass, moving toward them. Jenna and Linc glanced around.
Mace trotted up, breathing hard. “The SOB got away. He took a shot at me.”
She lifted her head, her gaze scouring over him for signs of blood, any sign of injury.
“You’re okay.” Linc’s exhaled statement mirrored the relief Jenna felt.
Mace’s gaze moved between her and his brother, taking in the way Linc held her. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
With the back of his hand, he wiped the sweat from his forehead then jogged around them to his car. Sliding into the passenger door, he grabbed his radio, calling the station.
Static crackled over the still air. Jenna heard a disembodied dispatcher’s voice, heard Mace give Ramsey’s description, then request a radiogram on him from this location, heading east toward I-35.
Linc pulled slightly away from Jenna, though her arms tightened around him. “You okay?”
She nodded, her teeth chattering too much to speak yet.
“You sure?”
She took a deep breath and met his gaze. “Yes,” she said finally. Tears burned her eyes, threatened to spill over again, but she forced them back. Ramsey was still out there. This nightmare wasn’t over. Jenna didn’t know if it ever would be.
Linc’s arms remained warm and comforting around her, but Jenna realized how easily he or Mace could’ve been hurt. How she would’ve been dead if she’d been here alone. Still trying to quell her trembling, she dropped her arms and stepped back from Linc.
Concern clouded his gray eyes as his gaze tracked over her with professional thoroughness. “We need to get you home.”
“I’m ready.”
Another thorough inspection. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yes.”
He tilted her chin up, staring straight into her eyes.
“I’m here. So is Mace. Ramsey won’t come back.”
Not today anyway. She nodded, fighting back the terror that threatened to explode inside her. She could still feel Linc’s heat, his strength, still needed it, but at the thought of his leaving, she was covered by a chill, a dark heavy sense of being cold, lost, alone.
“Linc, you could’ve been hurt. Mace, too.”
“He can’t get us all.”
But he could, Jenna realized on a sharp stab of terror.
Deke Ramsey could kill them all. “You’re in danger because of me. He killed Wilbur. He just shot at Mace. He won’t hesitate to kill you.”
She’d said the same thing at the hospital, but after what had just happened, the reality of that statement now sliced through her with fresh horror.
“I’m fine.” Linc’s features hardened. Determination glinted in his gray eyes. “I’m not hurt and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Maybe I should.”
“What?” His brows snapped together and his body went rigid.
“I’ll have Mace move me somewhere else.”
“He won’t let you move to Steve’s.” Anger rumbled beneath Linc’s low controlled words. “It would be too hard for him to keep tabs on you out there.”
“No, not with Steve. I mean somewhere else. Somewhere... alone. I couldn’t bear for either of you to get hurt or die because of me. Like Wilbur did.”
Fear clawed through her at the thought and she tried to step out of Linc’s embrace.
Linc held on, not hurting her, but tightening his arms around her anyway. With one finger, he tilted her chin up, forcing her gaze to meet his. “Listen to me. Crazy as it is, this is Mace’s job and he won’t walk away from it. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. I won’t let you. Whatever happens to you, happens to me.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” she moaned in frustration, fear clawing through her.
“No,” he said quietly. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
She saw the loyalty in his eyes, the pure stubbornness and understood that he intended to stand by her. Despite the risk, despite what had happened between them a few nights ago, he didn’t want her to leave.
His loyalty and protectiveness soothed her battered emotions. Jenna wanted to be convinced. She felt safe with him and grateful not to be alone.
Gratitude squeezed her throat tight and she fought back tears. Looking up at him, she managed a small smile with her swollen lips. “You don’t have to do this.”
He searched her eyes for a long second. “I do, Jenna. I do. I will.”
Reflexively she reached up and caught his hand on her shoulder. He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. Then his hand folded around hers, warm and solid and strong.
Jenna tightened her grip, needing the connection, the steady feel of his support and presence. He held her hand as they settled into the back of Mace’s car.
She didn’t want to let go. She’d forgotten what strength a simple bond like this could bring, forgotten that solid intimate connection with another person, a man.
“You okay, Jenna?” Mace asked from the front seat.
“Yes.”
Linc squeezed her hand.
“How about you, Linc?”
“I’m fine.” Linc glanced at Jenna, offering a reassuring smile.
Mace hit the steering wheel with his palm. “I can’t believe that bastard got away!”
Recalling the blazing hatred in Ramsey’s face, Jenna gripped Linc’s hand tighter.
“We will get him, Jenna,” Mace said vehemently. “I swear.”
She nodded, hoping that happened before it was too late for all of them. “He had a camera. What was he doing with a camera?” Her voice rose, grew sharp. “Watching me? Taking pictures of Wilbur’s grave—”
She broke off, drawing in a deep breath, trying to calm nerves that were scraped raw by what had just happened. “What a psycho.”
“He is, Jenna. And he’ll pay.”
Linc squeezed her hand again and she knew then that whatever happened, her life would be inextricably connected to his forever. For good or bad. For death. He knew it, too. And he was willing to stand by her. But for how long?
A mixture of frustration, anger and arousal hummed through Linc. Jenna stayed close to him in the car, gripping his hand as if he were her main line to oxygen.
Mace dropped them off, saying he would call them, then he sped off in a cloud of dust. Linc recognized his brother’s frustration over Ramsey’s escape because Linc felt it himself.
Virulent rage swept through him as he recalled that bastard watching Jenna at the cemetery. Linc’s hand tightened on Jenna’s and she wiggled her fingers. He loosened his grip, struggling to rein in his temper. The last thing Jenna needed was to see him lose control. She needed someone cool, steady.
She released his hand only when they walked inside his house. Once there, he saw her visibly relax. He saw no outward signs that she was in pain, that she had strained anything during those tense moments at the cemetery. Still, Linc watched her unwaveringly.
She prowled restlessly around the living area, keeping the dogs close to her, stopping in front of each window to stare outside at the glittering m
idday sunshine.
He resisted the urge to go to her and whisper reassurances she must surely be tired of hearing. “Jenna, do you want to talk about it?”
“What’s to talk about? Deke Ramsey’s out there, like I said. And he won’t stop until he kills me.”
Her voice was hard, foreign. Compassion twinged sharply in Linc’s chest. He wanted to hold her, kiss away the shadows in her mind, erase the ugliness of Ramsey.
“Do you want to lie down?”
“No.” Her voice was resigned, distant.
Compelled to do something, offer something, he stepped toward her, then stopped. Though he battled the thought, it came anyway. Linc wanted to lay her on his bed and peel the clothes from her body, gently, slowly kiss and caress every inch of her until Ramsey was obliterated from her mind.
Until she admitted that she wanted him the way he wanted her. His body tightened, urging him toward her, but he knew she didn’t want that from him, at least not yet.
Seeing Ramsey had rattled Linc’s nerves good and he could only imagine what it had done to Jenna. He had offered her shelter knowing full well the danger, the risk he was taking, but until today he hadn’t realized how twisted, how sickly determined Ramsey was to get at her.
The last thing she needed was to dwell on what had happened at the cemetery. “Are you hungry? I can fix something to eat.”
“No, thanks.” She stared outside, holding her cast close to her side as if warding off a blow.
She looked so frail, so alone that Linc’s heart clenched. He stepped toward her. “We can take out the horses if you’d like.”
She turned toward him, forcing a smile. “I don’t think I’m ready to go out just yet.”
Well, that hadn’t been too swift. Linc’s gaze traveled around the living room, searching for something to distract her. His gaze fell on the TV. “We can watch another movie. I’ll pop some popcorn or make some cookies—”
“You are the sweetest man.” She turned from the window, her pale features finally warming with color.