No, first they would break his thumbs. The next time they would get serious.
Lisa was going to save him from that.
“I’m leaving, all right.” He grabbed her by the arm. “And so are you.”
Stunned that he would actually lay hands on her, Lisa tried to jerk free, but his hold was too tight. It felt as though his fingers were pressing all the way to the bone in her forearm. “Let go of me!” she cried. “Roger, you’re hurting me!”
“I’m going to do a lot more than hurt you if you don’t come with me peacefully and do what I tell you.” He pulled a notepad and pen from his inside jacket pocket and tossed it onto the table in front of her.
Lisa had a brief flash of hysteria. Only Roger would show up for a kidnapping in an Italian suit, complete with notepad and a two-hundred-dollar fountain pen.
Then sanity returned and she glared her hatred at him. “If you think I’m going anywhere with you, you’re out of your mind. You’ll never get away with this, Roger. You can’t make me marry you.”
“That’s up to you, of course. I can always simply kill you and forge the marriage license. So tragic, they’ll all say. They finally found their way back to each other, and with their first child on the way, when some stranger shot her.” He slipped a small chrome pistol from the pocket of his slacks and let it dangle threateningly at his side. “Or maybe I’ll just drug you. What a nice docile wife you’ll make.”
Lisa’s blood turned to ice in her veins. Terror locked the breath in her throat. He meant it. The truth was in his eyes. He would kill her.
She swung at him with her fist. Pain shot up her arm. Blood sprayed from his nose.
“You bitch!” He backhanded her across the cheek. “One more move and I’ll hit you in that grotesque mound you call a belly.”
“No!” She covered her abdomen with her free arm. “You wouldn’t hurt your own child.”
“I’ll do whatever I have to do.” He aimed the gun at her stomach.
Dear God, he must have lost his mind. She’d never been afraid of him before. But now, standing in the Wilders’ kitchen, she found herself looking into the eyes of a madman and was terrified.
Roger dictated the note and, with a hand that shook despite her best efforts to conceal her fear, Lisa wrote. Then he dragged her out the front door toward his waiting BMW.
They were halfway down the walk toward the car when Stoney, whistling “Sweet Betsy from Pike,” came around the corner of the house carrying a bucket of eggs. He stopped and eyed Roger, and the way Roger held her arm.
“Miss Lisa?”
Roger maintained his grip on her and made sure she saw him slip his hand into the pocket that held his gun.
Oh, God, she couldn’t let anything happen to Stoney, but maybe there was a way to let him know something was wrong.
“Everything all right?” Stoney asked her.
“Sure, Stoney. This is my husband, Roger. He’s taking me home.” Her knees were knocking and her heart thundered. The wind sliced through her and made her shiver. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to make that ham like I promised, but there’s plenty of that shrimp casserole left over from last night. All you have to do is heat it up.”
“But—”
Roger cut him off. “We have to go, Lisa.” He tugged on her arm, pulling her down the sidewalk.
“Goodbye, Stoney,” she called. “Give my best to your wife.”
With narrowed eyes, Stoney watched them climb into the car and pull away from the house. Something was wrong. Bad wrong. Miss Lisa never made them any shrimp casserole. They’d had ham last night, best ham he’d ever had. And what was that business about his wife? Miss Lisa knew he didn’t have a wife.
Lordy, lordy, something was bad wrong, and he’d best be finding Jack and letting him know about it.
Jack and Trey were working on the north fence. That meant Stoney was the only one around. He would just go back to the bunkhouse and call Jack on that fancy cell phone of his and let him know something curious was up.
But just then things got curiouser. The driveway that led to the front of the house, where that fancy black car had been parked, circled back on itself and came out onto the main drive. From there, to leave the ranch, you turned right. That wasn’t what the black car did.
Inside that black car Lisa was trying to think of any way she could to keep her and her baby safe, but she knew that if Roger got her away from the Flying Ace, neither of them would ever be safe again. If he got her all the way to Denver—provided he didn’t kill her en route—she would never be free of him.
It was easy to tell herself that he couldn’t drug her without her cooperation, but she knew better. She had to eat. Slipping something into her food would be all too easy. She had to sleep. He could inject a drug into her before she could stop him.
Dear God, what was she going to do? She had to keep Roger on the ranch and give Jack time to find her.
That Jack would come for her she had no doubt. Stoney would find him and tell him something was wrong. The man was old, but he was smart, and he knew as well as she did what they’d had for supper the night before.
When Roger hit the end of the circle driveway and started to turn right toward the county highway, Lisa thought fast. “Don’t go that way.”
“Shut up.”
“All right.”
Roger hit the breaks so hard Lisa’s shoulder strap was the only thing that kept her from bouncing into the dash.
“Why do you not want me to turn right?” he demanded.
More shaken than she’d ever been in her life—even more than the night she’d stumbled upon the knife-wielding “burglar” in her home last year—Lisa struggled to concentrate. She couldn’t let him know how terrified she was. That would just become another weapon he would be able to use against her.
“Go ahead,” she told him. “In fact, please do. This ridiculous farce will be over that much sooner. We’ll meet the rest of the men coming back from town.”
“If we run into anyone, you just wave and I’ll keep driving.”
She managed a nod. “Whatever you say.”
He licked his lips nervously. That scared Lisa more than anything. She had never seen Roger nervous. Never seen him anything but completely self-assured.
“What’s to the left? And don’t lie to me, or I’ll make you sorry.”
She was already sorry. Sorrier than she could say about ever having met Roger Hampton. Except for the baby he’d given her. The baby he was threatening. The baby that was worth everything to her.
Roger gripped her already bruised arm and shook her. “Answer me.”
Lisa winced. “If you go left, you’ll find another road about two miles from here that veers off to the left. It cuts through some rocks and ravines and angles south.”
God, she’d done it now, she thought as Roger turned left. The side road was there just as she’d described it, but it led only to the family cemetery. What she would do when Roger figured that out, she had no idea. She was praying that Jack would come after her, but it might take a long time for Stoney to find him, then for Jack to find her.
Jack, please come. Please, Jack.
Jack barreled through the back door of the house frantically calling Lisa’s name, praying he was mistaken and that nothing was wrong.
“Lisa!”
No answer. He ran upstairs and searched every room. “Lisa! Lisa, answer me.”
The house was empty. He raced back downstairs, more frantic than ever. Where could she have gone?
“Jack!” Trey called from the kitchen.
“Did you find her?”
“She—There’s a note.”
Jack took the piece of paper from Trey and felt the blood drain from his head.
“Jack,” it began, “I’ve gone home with my husband, where I belong. I’ll let you know where to send my things.”
Yes, he realized, her clothes and things had still been in her room upstairs.
For a second, no longer
than that, he believed it. She had left him. When he finally thought he’d found the one woman he could trust, to whom he could give his heart, with whom he could share his life, she—
Then he swore. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t do that.
“Hey, man,” Trey said. “I’m real sorry, Jack.” Jack swore again. “She despised that bastard. She would never willingly go anywhere with him.”
“Then what…”
New fear gripped Jack by the throat. “He took her.”
“Kidnapped her?”
Stoney banged through the back door. “There you are. We got trouble. Miss Lisa left, but she was actin’ awful funny, talkin’ about shrimp and wives and all. I tried to call you, but you musta been down—”
“What about Lisa?” Jack demanded. “When did she leave? What did she say? Was she all right?”
“She said we should heat up last night’s shrimp for our supper.”
Jack nearly exploded in frustration. “I don’t give a damn about supper! What did she say about why she was leaving?”
“Jack,” Trey interrupted. “we didn’t have shrimp last night. We had ham.”
“So she was confused. Rattled.”
Trey held Jack’s gaze. “She’s never fixed us shrimp. She wasn’t rattled that much. Remember Stoney’s joke the first night she cooked for us, about never fixing shrimp casserole? My money says she knew exactly what she was saying.”
Stoney scratched the side of his nose. “That’s the way I figure it. An’ she said I was to tell my wife goodbye for her.”
“Your…” Jack squeezed his eyes shut. “Okay, she was trying to tell you something was wrong.” He headed for the door. “How long ago did they leave? Was he still driving that black BMW?”
“All I know is that it was shiny and black. Looked new. Left about five minutes ago. And that was real curious,” he added.
Jack was halfway out the door. “What was curious about it?” he demanded.
“They headed west.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“I know east from west. They headed west. I already called the sheriff,” Stoney added as Jack disappeared out the door.
“Damn.” Trey ran after his brother, but he was too late this time. Before he could catch up, Jack had jumped in the rig and was tearing out, headed west.
Chapter Eleven
Lisa slowed Roger down as much as she could, telling him that she wasn’t sure where the turnoff was and that passing it and having to turn around would waste time. Less than a half mile from the house there was no need for her to slow him down. The road did that for her.
It had been plowed days ago, but with all the snow melting and running across it, the unpaved dirt road was as muddy as a bog and full of deep ruts left by the ranch vehicles. Roger had to drive at a creep. If he didn’t, the car slid on the slick mud. If he fell into the ruts, the BMW, much closer to the ground than the four-wheel-drive rigs that used this road, would bottom out.
But her heart was racing and her mouth was dry. A hundred yards ahead the road dipped, and there they would find the turnoff that led to the cemetery. What then? What then?
She had no idea.
“You knew this road was impassable. You told me to come this way on purpose.”
“I haven’t been out of the house in days. How would I know what shape the road is in? All I did was keep you from running into the rest of the ranch hands.”
“And I have to ask myself why you did that. For someone who had to be coerced into coming with me, you’re being awfully helpful.”
Coerced? It was all she could do not to scream at him. She hadn’t been coerced. Her life and that of her baby had been threatened. “I just want to get back to Denver and get this wedding over with.”
“You’re going to do it?” When he looked at her, the car swerved toward the two-foot pile of snow alongside the road, left there by the plow and not yet melted.
“Look out!” she cried.
Roger jerked the steering wheel and the car went into a skid and fishtailed on the slick mud. He slammed on the brakes, but by then the car was going sideways, so the antilock brakes didn’t help. The rear end of the car slid and took out a ten-foot strip from the snow piled alongside the road before the back tires sank into the thick mud and the car refused to budge.
Roger swore viciously. Sweat beaded his brow as he gunned the engine. The tires spun. The car only rocked slightly forward and back, forward and back, while the tires turned uselessly in the mud.
“You stupid bitch,” he snarled. “This all your fault.”
“What?” Inside she was trembling, but she clenched her fists in her lap and played it cool. “I was minding my own business, cleaning house. This little trip was your idea.”
“Your advice to come this way may end up costing you more than you can afford, darling.”
She didn’t mistake his meaning. He had long since gone over the edge. He would kill her if he had to. She couldn’t just sit there and wait for him to do it. But her chances were next to zero even if she got out of the car. There was no way she could outrun him, let alone a bullet.
Dear God, what was she going to do? Jack! Help me, Jack!
Roger looked back down the road they had traveled and started swearing again.
Lisa followed his gaze and nearly cried in relief. It was Jack! As if she had conjured him up, there he was, driving his mud-spattered rig so fast it seemed to barely touch the surface of the road.
She reached for the door handle to get out.
Roger grabbed her. She knew, without looking, but she turned her head slowly and looked anyway—straight into the barrel of that nasty little pistol. He held it low, so it couldn’t be seen unless someone was right at the window looking in, but it was nonetheless deadly in its aim at her abdomen.
“Here’s how it’s going to be, Lisa.” His breath was coming fast. Sweat glistened across his face. Panic danced a jitterbug in his eyes. “You’re going to convince him that you’re coming with me by choice. I don’t care how you do it, just make him pull us out of this mud so we can get out of here. If you do a good job, I promise I’ll divorce you within the next five years and you can keep the kid. If you screw this up…”
“If I screw this up, what?” she hissed. “Are you going to kill me in front of a witness?”
“No. I’m going to kill him.”
A deep shudder ripped through her as ice formed in the pit of her stomach. She swallowed and glanced down the road again. Jack was slowing to a stop only yards away.
“It’s going to be hard to convince him if he sees that gun,” she warned shakily.
“He won’t see it, but I’ll have my hand on it every second until we’re out of here. And don’t mistake its small size. It kills just as well as a bigger gun.”
He dragged her across the leather seat and out the driver’s-side door with him. They sank almost ankle-deep in mud. Roger kept a hold on her arm and stood slightly behind her. His right hand was in his pants pocket. On the gun.
Jack climbed out of his rig.
Never had anything looked so good to Lisa as Jack did just then. God, how she loved him! She wanted to shout at him to get back in, to leave, fast, so he wouldn’t get hurt. But the tightening of Roger’s fingers around her upper arm silenced her.
Only now did she realize how cold it was. Roger hadn’t even let her get her coat, and suddenly she was shivering.
“Looks like you folks have a little problem here,” Jack said lazily as he approached. “Is everybody all right?”
“We’re fine,” Roger told him. “I’m sorry we couldn’t wait and explain things to you, but we’re in a bit of a hurry to get back to Denver.”
Jack’s gaze shifted to Lisa. She was so pale, her eyes dark with fear. It was all Jack could do to keep from yanking Hampton up by his collar and beating him bloody. But the way the man held on to Lisa with one hand and kept the other in his pocket had Jack worried. He could have a gun or knife in that pocket�
��Lord knows, Jack had his own .38 tucked into the back of his belt. But Lisa was much too close to chance any sudden moves.
“I got your note,” he said, trying to tell her with his eyes that he understood she hadn’t left on her own. “And your message. Not that I mind leftover shrimp, but this was kinda sudden, wasn’t it?”
“Jack—”
“Yes, well,” Roger said. “Do you think you could help us out of this mud? We really do need to be on our way.”
Jack scratched his chin and studied the back end of the car. “You got yourself stuck in there pretty good, didn’t you? Not to worry. We’ll have more help here any minute. Meanwhile, Lisa’s getting cold.” He took a step toward her and held out his hand. “Come get in my rig where it’s warm.”
“She’s fine,” Roger said quickly. “Aren’t you, darling?”
“She’s shivering. Where’s your coat, Lisa?”
“I…I’m afraid we left in such a hurry that I didn’t bring it.”
“I noticed your purse was still there, too. Come on. I’ll take you back to the house to get them.”
“She’s not going anywhere.”
Jack’s jaw hardened. “Not with you, she’s not. Let her go, Hampton.”
“Jack, no, he’s—”
“Shut up.” Roger jerked on her arm.
Lisa stumbled into Roger, then righted herself. “It’s no use, Roger. It isn’t going to work.”
Roger very much feared she was right. This lazytalking cowboy wasn’t going to help them out of the ditch. Roger could tell by the look in the man’s eyes that he wasn’t buying any of their story.
But Roger was too desperate to simply give up. “She’s right,” Jack said. “It’s not going to work. You’re not taking her anywhere, Hampton. You might as well let her go.”
“She wants to go with me. Don’t you, Lisa? Tell him.” He squeezed her arm so hard she winced. “Tell him how badly you want to go home with me.”
“I won’t—”
“Remember our agreement, dear.”
A Child on the Way Page 17