Riding Shotgun

by Joanna Wayne

“What did you say, sweetheart?”

  “I’m through begging, Tom. You’ll kill me no matter what I do, so just go ahead and get it over with.”

  “Don’t talk to me like that, you ungrateful bitch. You’re the one who ruined things between us. You turned on me. I married you, gave you my name and everything money could buy. And you thanked me by destroying me and my family.”

  “You got what you deserved.”

  She needed to keep him talking. As long as he talked, she kept breathing.

  “Did you spend all your time in prison obsessing over me, Tom? Did you and the rest of the Lacostes have people searching for me all this time and couldn’t find me?”

  “No. The others are all wimps. Depressed losers. They gave up. I spent my time planning this moment. I’m the only one with the guts to make you pay.”

  Keep him talking. He loves boasting about himself.

  “Obsessed and yet it took you all these years to find me? That doesn’t sound like the powerful Tom I once knew.”

  “Believe me, you weren’t that hard to find. I didn’t start looking for you until a few weeks ago when I realized I was getting out of prison.”

  “I bet you still needed help.”

  “I hired the right man for the job. He tracked you to Tennessee and then to Texas. Took him no time at all. That’s why he’s still living.”

  Tom hadn’t been looking for her. No one had been looking for her. She’d lived all those years in hiding, cloaked in fear, when she could have gone on with her life.

  She’d lost those years, but she couldn’t bear the thought of losing more. Not now. Not when there was so much to live for.

  Keep talking. Save yourself.

  She inched closer to the ax. “Is that why you killed Reid Peterson, because he missed when he tried to kill me?”

  “No, I killed him for taking shots at you. He was only supposed to provide the details about where you were staying and who you were hanging out with. I’ve waited too long to let some druggie steal the pleasure from me.”

  He stepped closer, his body almost pinning her to the wall. This time he pressed the blade of the knife beneath her chin, forcing her to tilt her head back so far she had to struggle to swallow.

  “Now I’m not so sure I want to kill you, after all. I might just slice your face into bloody shreds. Dozens of disfiguring scars to help you remember me for the rest of your life. Think your hotshot cowboy would still want you then?”

  Tom would do what he said. She knew he would do it. The ultimate, never-ending revenge. She’d rather die.

  She spit in his face. “My cowboy is ten times the man you ever were.”

  He yanked the knife back, preparing to plunge it through her heart. The back of his hand scraped across a rotting beam, knocking a vicious-looking spider from its web and into his hair. The huge spider’s jerking legs dangled inside Tom’s earlobe.

  Tom dropped the knife to swat wildly at his face.

  Grace dived for the ax. She lifted it high, poised to swing.

  “You won’t do it,” Tom said. “You know you don’t have the guts to swing that ax.”

  If she didn’t kill Tom, he would kill her. She wanted to live.

  Tom lunged toward her. She dodged him and swung the ax. The rusted blade sliced all the way through his leg and he went down in a pool of blood.

  She turned away, sick at the sight. When she looked at him again, he no longer held the knife. He held a pistol and it was pointed straight at her head.

  Even dying, he’d win.

  She closed her eyes as the sound of gunfire split through Tom’s agonizing screams.

  Chapter Twenty

  The bullet had hit dead perfect.

  Still viewing through his rifle’s sight, Pierce watched Grace sway and then crumple to the filthy floor of the bug-infested shed.

  He raced through the opening like a charging bull, jumped over Lacoste’s body and fell to his knees beside Grace. Heart thundering in his chest, he gathered her in his arms. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you and I’m never letting go.”

  She opened her eyes and stared at him. “Am I dead?”

  He put his hand to her heart. “Nowhere close. You just blacked out for a minute. Are you hurt?”

  Her body trembled and her expression changed to fear. “Tom is here. He has a gun.”

  “Tom is dead, Grace. He will never hurt you or anyone else again. The gunshot you heard was mine.”

  “How? I mean where did you come from? How did you get here?”

  “Let’s just say we should probably build Rocket a diamond-studded stall with hot and cold running feed.”

  Finally, Grace looked toward Tom’s body lying facedown in his blood. Spiders were already crawling through his raw flesh.

  “Tom’s dead. He’s really dead.”

  “Died in the same way he dished it out—from a bullet to the brain.”

  “I chopped off his leg. With the ax.”

  “Don’t sound so horrified. If you hadn’t, it would be your body lying there.”

  “And if you hadn’t shot the second you did, I would be dead anyway.”

  He couldn’t even let himself think of how close he’d come to losing her. Relief spilled from his overflowing heart and settled in his soul. Carefully, he picked up Grace, cradled her in his arms and carried her out of the shed and into the sunshine.

  Once there, he could see the red marks on her arm and a bloody spot beneath her chin. Fire burned in his belly. “What did that monster do to you?”

  “He roughed me up a bit, but that’s all. I’m fine, or I will be in a day or two. He did nothing to me that matters now.”

  “It doesn’t look like nothing to me. I’m calling Esther. She can have the deputy come out in my truck. I’ll drive you back to the house and he can handle the crime scene.”

  “Thanks. I might not be quite horse ready yet, but soon. But what about the horses?”

  “They can wait.” He pulled her into his arms again, gently, so as not to hurt her. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, Grace. We’re in this together. You trust me. I trust you. That’s the way it has to be.”

  “Got it.”

  But there was more he had to say. “I love you, Grace. Damn it all, I can’t pretend I don’t. Timing might be all wrong to tell you, but I can’t help it. I’m so crazy in love with you, I thought I would die for a minute back there.”

  “But you didn’t, and the timing is perfect. I love you right back. You and everything about you. I’m sure I always will.”

  He kissed her and the horrors of the morning slid back into perspective. Grace was alive. She was there. She loved him. Everything else was just another rodeo.

  “I’ll call the sheriff and let him know he’s got a crime scene to deal with out here. There will be questions and explanations to deal with later, but for now I just want to get you home.”

  “Home for Christmas,” Grace murmured. “I love the sound of that.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  If Grace had ever dreamed of a perfect Christmas morning, it would have been exactly like this one. Esther in her rocking chair, her unwrapped gifts stacked beside her while she delighted in watching everyone else open theirs.

  Jaci was on the floor in front of the tree, engrossed in the Cinderella play set from Santa. That must have been what Pierce went shopping for yesterday, though he may have bought that back in Chicago.

  Grace had the best spot of all, on the sofa, snuggled close to Pierce and reveling in the warmth, love and laughter that filled the room. A gift she’d craved for six lonely and frightening years.

  Jaci took a break from the play set to open her last gift, this one from Esther. She squealed with delight as she pulled out a handmade a
pron with her name embroidered on it. She put it on over her pajamas and ran over to get Grace to tie it for her.

  “I can help Grandma do all the cooking now,” Jaci announced.

  “Looks like we’ve opened every present,” Pierce said.

  “I see one more,” Esther said. “Who is that huge present over there by the TV for?”

  “Oh, I almost didn’t see that one,” Pierce teased.

  Jaci ran to the package. “It’s for you, Grandma. From me and Daddy.” She tried to pick it up, but it was much too heavy.

  “I declare. What in the world did you buy that big? I’ll have to add a room onto the house to have a place to put it.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.” Pierce lifted the box with little effort, carried it over and set it down in front of Esther.

  Jaci skipped along beside him. “I can help you unwrap it.”

  “Thank you, Jaci. I reckon I’m going to need a lot of help.”

  Jaci tore off the paper.

  Esther stared at the display picture splashed across the heavy cardboard. “That’s not what’s really in the box, is it?”

  “It better be,” Pierce said. “That’s what I paid for.”

  “It’s a porch swing, Grandma,” Jaci explained. “You said you liked this one.”

  “I didn’t mean for you to buy it.”

  Jaci crawled up in Esther’s lap. “Do you like it?”

  “I love it, but, Pierce, I don’t want you spending that kind of money on me. I don’t need nothing this fancy. There’s no one here to sit in it but me.”

  “What would you say to having a few more people around here to sit in it?”

  Ester leveled her stare at him. “What are you saying, Pierce Lawrence?”

  “Just that Jaci and I don’t have anywhere we have to be for the next six months. I’m thinking we could stay here. Jaci could register for preschool and ride Dreamer. I could help you get the ranch up and running again.”

  Esther put her hands over her face, but her pudgy fingers couldn’t hide her tears. “Now look what you’ve gone and done. You’ve made me cry. I’ve been praying every day that you’d stay awhile.”

  “Careful what you pray for,” Pierce said. “I may never leave. Ranching seems to be in my blood.”

  Jaci left Esther and walked over to Pierce. “Is it time yet, Daddy?”

  “It’s time,” he said.

  Jaci ran back to the tree, crawled beneath the lowest branch and then wiggled back out with a small silver box with a bright red bow clutched in her hand.

  She sashayed over like a prissy peacock and placed the box in Grace’s lap. “It’s from me and Daddy. But mostly from Daddy ’cause he had to pay for it.”

  “It’s from the both of us,” Pierce said. “We’re a team.”

  “You’re making me afraid to open it.” Grace’s hands were shaking as she unwrapped the gift. It looked like a ring box, but she knew that couldn’t be. But what if it were?

  Was she ready for that? Could she trust her feelings after so many years of blocking them?

  Was she ready for the life she’d dreamed of living with a man she loved?

  She lifted the lid. Her heart jumped to her throat. Pierce pushed off the sofa and got down on one knee.

  “I love you, Grace. I know it happened quickly, but I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone but you. I don’t expect you to give me an answer today, but I’m asking you to marry me. Marry me and make me the happiest man on earth.”

  Jaci scooted close to Grace. “And marry me, too. We can ride horses and read stories. And fight the roosters. And dance.”

  “How could I ever say no to that?” Grace slipped her hands inside Pierce’s. “I love you, Pierce Lawrence, more than I ever believed I could love any man. You not only drove away my worst nightmares, you’ve made my every dream come true.

  “I’ve waited six long years to get my happy-ever-after. I’m ready to start it now.”

  “Is that a yes?” Pierce asked.

  “It’s a yes, to both of you.” She hugged Jaci to her heart.

  Pierce stood, pulled Grace up and into his arms. His kiss was sweet, a promise of a world of love yet to come.

  Esther broke down in sobs.

  Jaci stood in the middle of the room and held out her hands. “This is the most bestest Christmas ever.”

  Grace couldn’t agree more, but somehow she knew that with a lifetime of living and loving Pierce Lawrence in front of her, the best was yet to come.

  Jaci flicked on the power to her Santa. “Okay, everybody. Let’s dance.”

  And dance they did.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from ONE TOUGH TEXAN by Barb Han.

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  One Tough Texan

  by Barb Han

  Chapter One

  Joshua O’Brien eased his foot off the gas pedal. His Jeep shuddered before the power died. He was out of gas in a flash flood thirty miles from the family ranch in Bluff, Texas. He cursed his floating gas gauge as he pushed open the driver’s side door. Running two towns over to Harlan to pick up a box of donations to be auctioned off at his family’s annual Christmas Benefit wasn’t exactly his idea of an exciting Friday night. When the Nelson widow had opened the door in her red silk bathrobe and then offered him a nightcap, he’d been even less thrilled. Drawing the short straw to make that pickup—and deal with the seventy-year-old Mrs. Nelson—was just one in a long list of reasons that Joshua wasn’t cut out for the family business at the Longhorn Cattlemen Ranch and Rifleman’s Club and it made him miss his job in law enforcement that much more. Could he make his temporary leave permanent in order to stay on at the ranch? The decision could wait.

  He shook off his bad luck, grabbed a gas container from the back and trudged through the ankle-deep water. According to his phone’s GPS, there should be a gas station a few blocks ahead. He figured he could walk there and back quicker than one of his brothers could drive into town from the ranch to get him so he set out on foot rather than make a call for help and admit his own stupidity.

  It was the kind of pitch-black night outside that made it hard to see much past the end of his nose. His eyes would adjust in a few minutes. A bolt of lightning raced sideways across the sky, emphasizing layers of thick gray clouds a
s far as he could see. This storm wasn’t passing anytime soon. Joshua checked his surroundings. He’d passed the quarter acre cul-de-sac lots and was now walking past a field with overgrown grass. The bad weather must be keeping everyone indoors because the roads were empty. That meant no chance of hitching a ride.

  A flash flood alert had already buzzed on his cell. If he hadn’t been distracted thinking about his parents’ murder investigation then he would’ve filled up the tank sooner, instead of sloshing through water that was rapidly gathering on the roads and sidewalks while wearing his good boots.

  He still couldn’t think of a soul who’d want to harm his folks. His father, a self-made millionaire cattle rancher who’d owned a few thousand acres in Bluff, Texas, had built his business on handshakes and hard work. His mother, the matriarch of the family, was as kind as she was giving. Joshua and his five brothers had inherited the lion’s share of the family business, which included a successful rifleman’s club. A token share went to their aunt and uncle, same as it had been when his parents were alive. The brothers had voted to give a devoted worker a piece of the pie.

  Joshua’s investigation experience told him to look at those who were closest to his parents, the ones who had the most to gain. Skills honed by Denver PD told him to look for motive, means and opportunity. The only people who stood to benefit from his parents’ murders were him and his brothers. None of his brothers had motive. Each was successful in his own right and the O’Briens had always been a loving, close-knit bunch. It couldn’t be one of them, which led Joshua to believe that someone had a beef with his parents. It was the only thing that made sense. And he drew a blank there, too. There were no secret affairs, no emotional dramas with friends. His parents were exactly as they appeared on the surface. Generous. Kind. Loving.

  The sheriff was checking every angle. He was a close family friend and Joshua knew he was taking the news just as hard.

  A warm glow, most likely a streetlight in the distance, meant Joshua was getting closer to the station. At least it wasn’t freezing cold outside like it had been recently. Christmas was three weeks away and weather this time of year was unpredictable.