by Tysche Dwai
“But Jenny I never sent you a picture, and you probably thought I was some young handsome guy.”
“If you’re fishing for a compliment, Neal Franks, I’m not going to give you the satisfaction. I’ve already told you what I think. You’ll just have to live with the idea I think you’re just right.” By now, her anger at his sense of unworthiness overcame her better sense. “You’re perfect, so get over it!” Her words bit in an angry assertion in an attempt to overcome his concerns.
The relief on the man’s face transformed those rugged worn features into a face with character and an honest sense of worth. A man handsome in his own right. One who did not need the world’s opinion, just that of one woman.
He pulled her close and tucked her head down on his shoulder under his chin. “Aw, Jenny, only you see me that way. I’m just an old busted cattleman, too old and too homely for a pretty thing like you, but...”
Like a deep well that swallows all sounds and returns none, he stopped talking and held her close, as if she might run or he might lose her.
“Marry me, Ms Jenny Lincoln,” he whispered.
Like a bolt of lightening, her greatest fear poured pure terror through every vein and artery. The fear of a life-altering unknown. She didn’t really know Neal Franks. She had never seen his home or ranch. She’d never been to his part of Oklahoma. More importantly, she had never told him the most important thing about her. The fear that he might reject her like Tommy, her deceased husband, grabbed her heart in a fist and squeezed.
Jenny shot off his lap, barely noticing the shocked expression on his face. Neal might have been there for her when Tommy died but he was the problem now, and no one was here to help her get over this mind-eating fear of not knowing what the future might hold. In a panic now, unable to explain, she grabbed her purse and headed for the door. The deadbolt stopped her for about a second before she threw it and shot out the door, headed in a dead run for her truck. Neal’s voice behind her, calling her, slowed her not one bit.
“What the hell is the matter with you, woman?” Neal stared in utter disbelief as Jenny careened out the door. What the heck had he done? What had he said that caused such an explosion of panic? That’s what he saw on her face—sheer terror, panic like he’d never seen before.
Like her, he bolted for the door. The odds of catching her before she drove off were ‘slim and none.’ He scanned the parking lot. Her truck was still in its spot and... What the hell? Jenny wasn’t inside; she stood on the opposite side between their trucks. Talking to a man? What the fuck was going on?
Seeing as she didn’t look like she was taking off immediately, he stomped toward the truck. Before he took five steps, his mind dredged up something she’d told him early on and he’d worked with her on after her husband died. Jenny feared any unknown that would change her life. Going into a situation that was dicey didn’t bother her if she knew she would be the same ol’ Jenny coming out on the other side. But when Tommy died, she almost fell to pieces. He wanted to come to her then, but she talked him out of it.
However, her fear of what would happen to her after the funeral and in the times ahead came through loud and clear in her emails. He couldn’t even call her; her number was unlisted per her husband’s wishes. So he spent hours writing messages and answering her questions and helping her work through the uncertainty. She lost her husband, her home and then almost lost her job because her fear practically paralyzed her.
Though she came through the terror in good shape finally, Neal realized she did not face such things graciously. Hell, look at her; fear still plain on her face though she stood quietly enough with a man he did not recognize.
‘Marry me.’ That did it. His passionate question drove her out the door. A slap up side the head was what he needed right now. Why the hell had he not remembered her one hang-up? He could have approached the idea of marriage a little more subtly. Too late now. The question stood between them, and he wanted to get it settled without this guy bothering them.
Neal stopped next to the truck. “Jenny, can we go back inside and talk?”
“Not like this, Neal.” She didn’t look at him. “Go back inside. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Uh uh. I don’t think so.”
“Neal, please? Do as I ask. I’ll come back.” She looked nervous but was trying to hide it for some reason.
“Jenny, who is this guy?” Suddenly this weird feeling hit him, and he started around the end of the truck.
“No, Neal!” She tried to turn and stop him, but the man grabbed her arm.
“Jenny, what’s going on?” One hand on the tailgate, he rounded the bumper with his eyes on the two and almost got a .45 caliber hand gun in the stomach.
“Stand still, mister and don’t say a word, or I’ll blow your dick off and let you bleed to death.” A second man, crouched down beside the truck, stood, the .45 held low at his side.
“Jenny?”
“I tried to warn you.” Her bottom lip quivered and she sounded like she wanted to cry, but then he saw her stiffen her back. “Just do what they say so no one will get hurt.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to hurt the lady,” the man with Jenny said, “but I will if I have to.” And he moved his arm to the side so Neal could see the heavy pistol he also held.
“Let her go. I’ll give you my wallet and credit cards.” He started to reach into his pocket to pull out his keys. But the other man hastily stuck the gun in his stomach.
“No so fast, mister.” The man stuck his hand into Neal’s jeans pocket and pulled out the set of keys. “Got ‘em.”
The one with Jenny nodded. “Let’s get outta here.” He pushed Jenny around and said, “Open the back door.” When she pulled the heavy door open, he snatched a large duffel bag from the ground and threw it in then stepped into the truck. He motioned to her. “Now you.”
“What? No!” Neal took a step forward, and his man jammed the gun into his guts. “Leave her here, take me.” He saw the fear in her eyes and the sweat that rose on her forehead.
“Hero, huh?” His man took a step backward and opened the front passenger door. “I think we need insurance. Go around and get in, mister. You’re driving.”
He refused to move. “Look, take the truck.” And he pointed to the keys. “Just leave her here.” Neither man looked scared. Both acted rather businesslike in their efforts to kidnap the two of them.
The man still outside calmly reached in the cab and pointed his pistol at Jenny. “Either you walk around this truck like we’re all one big happy family or I’m gonna blow her head off.”
Neal believed him. He made a slow short journey around the truck, realizing as he went that no one was around to see them. Jenny was in danger, and he was scared. His hands shook like bones in dry skin.
He slammed the door and turned on the diesel while the other man climbed in, all the time holding the pistol steady.
“You don’t have to do this, man. We won’t say anything.” He tried once more to get the men to let them go. His heart fell when the man shook his head then motioned forward with the gun.
“Drive. And shut up.” He waved the gun over the back of the seat. “Talk again and the missus gets it.”
Shit! I just thought we had problems. Now we really got ‘em. These jackasses are kidnapping us!
Three hours later, Jenny cursed the fact that Neal had filled his diesel tank the day before. Long before noon, they traveled the country roads of the Texas panhandle, a fairly desolate area. Few towns, fewer cars.
No one spoke. The two with guns watched the land, roads and sky as if they expected someone. Her training told her a few things, and none of them were good for her and Neal. Both men wore dark clothes and carried .45 caliber handguns that appeared comfortable in their grips. Neither spoke randomly nor used names. By now, she’d designated her kidnaper as Tall and Handsome as opposed to Neal’s man in the front passenger seat, Mr. Surly Muscles. That one gave the distinct impression that he did not want th
em along though it was his idea to take them. Any interference from either would give him an excuse to dump them in this wasteland.
Unfortunately, Jenny had a problem; she had to pee—not badly yet, but getting there. Besides, she wanted to know how they would react to a bit of interference. “Hey mister, I hate to bother you, but I have to go to the bathroom.”
Tall and Handsome ignored her.
She watched the clock on the dashboard and let ten minutes roll by. “Look, dude, I have to go.” The man next to her glanced her way but said nothing. When he refused to acknowledge her, Jenny shrugged and commented as nonchalantly as her tight throat allowed. “Your mess to clean up then, but it’s gonna stink in here pretty soon.” And she intentionally turned her gaze away.
“You can go in the bushes.” Tall and Handsome rolled his eyes when she gave him a not on your life shocked expression.
“If you’ll notice, there’s damn little to squat behind, and I don’t think this truck comes equipped with toilet paper.” She did a prissy imitation of some actress she’d seen on TV. When the man grumbled, “Well, shit,” she knew she’d won.
She wasn’t sure what that was though.
Would these two throw her and Neal out into the badlands? Would they force her to squat among the rocks to take care of a call Nature hadn’t given her—yet? Or would these men kill them both?
Questions for which Jenny had no answers.
Surly Muscles waved his gun at Neal. “What’s the closest town?”
“Not sure. I’m not from this area.” Both hands on the steering wheel went white-knuckled, but Jenny sensed he was in despair about her safety.
Mr. Surly Muscles looked pissed at Neal’s answer. As near as she could figure, they were following State Highway 86 headed to New Mexico. In less than twenty-five miles, they’d cross the state line. She wanted to avoid any reason for dumping them so she answered. “Next town should be Bovina. A wide spot in the road.”
“That’ll do.” Tall and Handsome caught Neal’s glance in the rearview mirror. “Pull in at the smallest gas station you can find. None of that convenience store shit. Too many people.”
Jenny clutched her purse in her lap and prayed something good would happen when they stopped. Her movement drew Tall and Handsome’s attention.
“Bet your purse isn’t as important as my bag there.” And he kicked the heavy-looking duffel on the floor between them. Both gunmen laughed but said nothing more.
For a second, Neal took his eyes off the road and caught her glance in the mirror. She read his sorrow and fear. Her tiny smile and nod seemed to reassure him that she was holding up.
However, Tall’s comment only reinforced her own fears that he not find the two things in the bottom of her purse. If he did, she and Neal were dead.
Ten minutes further down the road, Neal pulled into a shoddy-looking station. No nationally known brand of gas advertised at that building. Only a sign out front saying ‘gas’ indicated any reason for stopping.
The truck came to a slow rolling stop next to the side of the building. One door in the wall showed the sign for a men/women restroom.
Another glance over his shoulder and Neal caught Jenny’s cringe. Whether she really had to go or not, she had to act like she did. He didn’t envy her. The place looked way less than appealing or sanitary.
The blond man in the back seat motioned to her. “Take care of your business. I’ll be outside waiting for you. I’ll also check the place when you get through. You know, just in case you want to leave a message or something.” He handed his gun to the shorter man in the front seat with Neal.
Jenny popped the door and almost fell out. Neal figured her long legs had stiffened up in the back seat. She shook each and headed around the back, but her guard stopped her.
“Around the front of the truck so my friend can see you.”
She shrugged, slung her purse strap over one shoulder and moved around the truck’s front. Was it his imagination, or did she seem to clutch that purse a little desperately? Did she have her cell phone? Hope flared but died immediately. Neal wondered if his thoughts about her phone transmitted to the kidnappers because the tall man following her out of the truck caught her arm.
“Give me your cell phone.”
Jenny pulled her phone from her pants pocket instead of her purse like Neal expected. Though her shoulders slumped as if a plan to make a short 9-1-1 call were foiled, he got the impression she was covering for a bigger concern. What that might be he had no idea, but if she had an escape plan, he needed to be ready.
All went according to the kidnappers’ plans apparently. With Jenny once more in her seat, Blondie stood in the front of the truck and took a piss. Once he returned to Jenny’s side and acquired the nasty-looking .45 again, Muscles motioned to Neal.
Unsure what Muscles wanted, he hesitated, until he heard the hammer cock back on the gun behind him. In the rearview mirror, he saw Blondie watching him. But the cocked gun pointed at Jenny’s midsection, not him.
“Go out front and take care of business.”
Oh. His turn to stretch and relieve his bladder. Neal slid from the truck, any warning to behave unnecessary. He wanted to rescue Jenny, not get her killed. Guilt rode him hard. If he’d kept his mouth shut about how he felt, she wouldn’t have run. If she hadn’t run, they would be safe. Her rescue lay in his hands. How she felt about him loving her had temporarily slid way down the list of things to worry about.
Neal zipped his jeans and turned to reenter the truck, but Muscles stopped him. “Give me your jacket.” He slipped it off and watched the other man put it on. The sweat of fear dampened his shirt, and a stray breeze sent a chill across his back. An uncontrollable shiver jerked him for a second. What’s he gonna do?
To his surprise, Muscles motioned him into the truck while he tucked the long-barreled pistol into the back of his belt, beneath the coat. “Back in a minute,” he told his partner before disappearing around the corner of the building.
“What’s he doing?” Neal pulled his lanky frame behind the steering wheel but kept his hands off the key.
“Scouting.”
Neal turned so he could see Jenny. Although she held her purse in a white-knuckled grip, she didn’t seem as scared as she had earlier. White knuckles? Once again, he wondered why her purse seemed so important.
“You okay?” He wasn’t about to use her name. No sense giving these guys any more information than necessary.
“Yeah.” She gave him a tiny smile and her gaze softened. In a low whisper, she added, “I’m sorry.”
In the middle of a dangerous situation was no time to get emotional so he nodded to let her know he heard. Is she sorry for running? Or for getting us into this situation?
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Muscles returning. Where before the man seemed all business, he now appeared concerned, his eyes darting side-to-side, his step faster than Neal expected.
Muscles grabbed the door handle and hauled his short frame in and growled, “Let’s get out of here, but drive so no one thinks we’re in a hurry.” He actually cocked the gun and laid it on the bench seat, the barrel pointed toward Neal.
Tension filled the truck cab. It wrapped around the four like a snake. Muscles still glanced around as if he expected a policeman to appear from behind the gas station.
“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Blondie barely refrained from using the other man’s name.
Muscles jerked his head toward Neal. “He’s a fucking Ranger.”
“What? Damn!”
“How you figure he’s a Ranger?” Tall and Handsome almost whispered. Seems both automatically jumped to the conclusion he was the officer.
“That’s all the cashier could talk about. Seems two bank robbers are on the run, and the news media leaked that a Ranger might have been taken as hostage.” Both turned burning gazes on Neal.
Fortunately, his stoic gaze never wavered from the road. He appeared not to hear the discussion.
Neal immediately had thoughts of baseball—Texas Ranger baseball. But that made no sense. He realized they meant the group of law enforcement officers. Muscles referred to the famous Texas Rangers, an elite team of law officers given discretion to pursue criminals anywhere in the Lone Star state.
Wait a minute! If I’m not the Ranger then...
Like a heart attack is reported to contract the heart and chest so breathing is next to impossible, Neal’s chest hurt like a two-ton gorilla stood on his sternum. He wasn’t the Ranger, but Jenny Lincoln was.
Every muscle in him wanted to turn and stare at her in accusation. Almost from the beginning, he suspected Jenny worked for the government. Now he knew she worked for the Texas government. Apparently, she wore the badge of a fully-certified Texas Ranger. As if a million puzzle pieces suddenly fell on the mental table with the big picture revealed, all the things she’d told him over the last three years now made sense.
The odd work hours, the unlisted phone number, her secrecy about her job... Why keep it a secret?
Before Neal could think further, Blondie thumped him in the back of the head hard enough to hurt but not enough to interfere with his driving.
“Oh man, we’re so screwed.”
Apparently, these men were locals and knew what killing a Ranger could mean. He knew that all law enforcement turned out in determined force if one of their own was killed or injured. The situation would be no different if this particular Ranger—a lady Ranger—was hurt.
Well, I’ll just have to make sure she isn’t. That resolution jelled in his heart and hardened his features evidently because the kidnappers tensed as if he’d threatened them personally.
“We have to get rid of him.” Muscles jerked his head toward a dirt trail about a quarter mile up the road. “Turn there.”
Oh shit. Unable to help it, Neal glanced over his shoulder at Jenny. If he thought her afraid before, she looked more terrified now. Her wide eyes and tight lips, the flare to her nostrils, the way she sat hunched up. Somehow he knew that fear wasn’t for herself; it was for him.