by Terri Reed
Wyatt swallowed back his surprise. He hadn’t known anyone else had seen that about her. His mind replayed the night she died. He spoke as the memories rushed in. “We’d been fighting the night she died. Again. Because she didn’t like having to spend her days alone. She didn’t like how much time I spent working on the ranch. She wanted to go someplace where I could get a normal nine-to-five type of job. I remembered saying she knew what she was getting into when we married. I never lied to her about my life or about what life on the ranch would be like.” He shook his head. “Then she’d said she was leaving and taking Gabby.”
He heard his mom’s small gasp.
Wyatt looked down at his plate. The fried chicken was getting cold. But his appetite was gone. “She said she didn’t even know if Gabby was mine.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Mom stated firmly. “Of course she’s yours. Gabby has your nose and your spirit.”
“This is what you’ve been hiding,” Craig said softly.
Wyatt met his gaze. “Yes. I was afraid if you knew she’d been having an affair, it would make me seem more guilty.”
“Oh, no,” Mom said. “I didn’t think it had gotten to that stage.”
Wyatt turned his gaze to his mother. “What do you mean?”
“I knew she’d become friendly with someone, but when I confronted her, she’d said they were only friends.”
Wyatt sucked in a sharp breath. His chest contracted painfully as he asked, “Who? Who was she becoming friendly with?”
“Boyd Dunn.”
Hurt burrowed in deep. Some small part of him had always wanted to believe she had been lying, lashing out only to hurt him. Apparently she hadn’t lied. It was one thing to think his wife had betrayed him with a nameless, faceless man. But now he knew. She’d been having an affair with Boyd Dunn.
And Gabby might not be his biological child. Did Wyatt have the right to keep Gabby’s paternity a secret?
Jackie’s words came back to him. Secrets have a way of eating at a person until they crumble.
He didn’t want to crumble beneath the weight of any secret.
He hated the secrets that Dina had kept. And he didn’t want to perpetuate a tangle of lies. He wanted to set a good example for Gabby.
His foundation was built on faith. Whatever the truth was, he and Gabby would survive. But he realized now that he didn’t have a choice. Tomorrow he’d start the process to find out if Gabby was truly his child.
Because no matter what, she would always be his precious little girl.
The ring of his cell phone jarred him out of his thoughts. “Excuse me,” he said to his mother as he reached for the phone in his pocket.
“Mr. Monroe?” an unfamiliar female voice asked.
“Yes, this is Wyatt Monroe.”
“This is Simone Walker from Trent Associates. I work with Jackie Blain,” the woman said. Her voice held a taut note of concern.
“Jackie’s spoken of you. What can I do for you?”
“Have you seen or heard from Jackie in the past few hours?”
“No.” Apprehension spread across him like ice water. A chill ran down his spine. The sense of foreboding reared again. “Is there something wrong?”
“I don’t know. Her phone has been turned off. She never turns her phone off, and I know she’d never let it die. She was looking for you when I last spoke to her. She had me run your last few calls on your cell phone,” Simone said. “She was upset when I told her you’d called someone named Frank Dunn.”
Wyatt blinked. Jackie had gone to a lot of trouble to find him. Then why didn’t she show up at the Dunns’? Carl said she’d gone into town for something. He’d thought that was odd. Where was she?
He promised Ms. Walker he’d find Jackie. Then he called the Kirks. The phone just rang.
Dread squeezed the breath from his lungs in a forceful vise. Something was wrong. Jackie was in trouble. A deep-seated knowledge that his daughter was in danger threatened to choke the air from his body.
He explained the situation to Craig and he tried to keep the panic at bay.
“You head to the ranch,” Craig instructed. “I’ll go into town and see if I can find Ms. Blain.”
Grateful for his stepfather’s help, Wyatt ran for his truck.
“I’m coming with you,” his mother said and jumped in before he could protest. “Gabby’s my granddaughter.”
The whole drive to the ranch, Wyatt prayed. Prayed that he was overreacting, that he’d find Gabby safe and sound, curled up with Penny and Carl on the couch watching some animated movie. He prayed that Jackie was safe and already back at the ranch.
As Wyatt drove up to the house, apprehension slithered over his flesh like a prairie rattlesnake. The main house was dark, as was the Kirks’ home. He brought the truck to a halt, jumped out and ran for the Kirks’ front door. He heard the frantic barking of Jackie’s dog somewhere inside. Rapping his knuckles on the wood, he tried to keep the anxiety filling him from sending him into a panic.
No one answered. He knocked again, hard, then shouted, “Penny? Carl? Open up.”
Nothing. With panic racing through his veins, he rammed his shoulder against the door and burst into the living room. He found the light switch and flipped it.
Penny Kirk sat in a chair with her feet and hands bound, a rag stuffed in her mouth. Her wide eyes stared at him with relief and fear. A tear rolled down her cheek. His mother let out a gasp of horror.
Terror flooded Wyatt. He rushed to her side and took out the rag. “What happened? Where’s Gabby?”
“He took her,” Penny said, her voice hoarse and raspy.
“Who took my baby?”
“Boyd Dunn.”
A fist of fury slammed into his gut. If he hurt his little girl...there was nothing that would keep Wyatt from tearing the man limb from limb.
Staggering beneath the weight of fear pressing down on him, he asked, “Where’s Carl? Jackie?”
Penny shook her head. Tears slipped down her cheeks. “Carl was in the back of the house when Boyd came in. Jackie hasn’t returned from town.”
“I’ve got this,” his mother said as she worked at the bonds holding Penny to the chair. “Go. Find Carl.”
Barely keeping his control, Wyatt ran to the kitchen and found Carl unconscious on the floor. Blood trickled from a gash on his forehead. Wyatt checked his pulse. He was alive.
“Thank You, Jesus,” Wyatt breathed out and then grabbed the phone to call 911. The dispatcher promised an ambulance was on its way and that the sheriff would be informed. His mother and Penny crowded around Carl. Penny rocked with sobs, while his mother held her.
Torn between his need to find his daughter and Jackie and feeling obligated to stay put, Wyatt paced the kitchen.
“What are you doing? Go find Gabby,” his mother insisted.
Grateful to be given the order, he ran from the house and took off in his truck toward the Dunn ranch. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that Jackie was in danger, too.
Fear clutched at him with greedy fingers. He couldn’t take it if anything happened to Gabby or Jackie. He pressed down hard on the gas and raced toward the unknown.
“Lord, please protect Gabby and Jackie, the two people I love most in this world. Keep them safe. Let them know I’m coming.”
SIXTEEN
“Why did you kill George?” Jackie asked Darrin Dunn. She surreptitiously worked to loosen the duct tape trapping her to the chair. She swallowed around a lump of frustration and bit back a sigh. She’d made little progress so far. And that worried her.
The strong tape pulled taut around her torso and stuck like glue. She was thankful he hadn’t put any across her mouth. Feeling helpless and vulnerable in the chair was bad enough. Being muzzled, unable to spe
ak or breathe without effort, would have driven her crazy.
She repeated her question, careful to keep her growing desperation from sounding in her voice.
Darrin didn’t lift his gaze from the carving in his hands or acknowledge her in any way. For the past hour he’d been ignoring her questions. He sat on a workbench, whittling a chunk of wood with a large hunting knife. She watched the way his hands deftly handled the blade. Here was a man who knew how to work with a sharp instrument. A man who had stabbed George to death?
Part of her didn’t want to know the answer, because if the answer was yes, he would have no qualms about killing her the same way.
She gave the tape another tug. It wouldn’t give.
How long would he wait for his brother to return with Gabby before he grew impatient? And then what would this man do?
She sent up a prayer that Wyatt had already returned to the ranch. He’d never let Boyd do anything to Gabby. But who knew what Boyd had planned? Both of the brothers were a bit unhinged.
He might burn down the barn or the house this time and hope to snatch Gabby in the chaos. But Jackie couldn’t think about that. She had to trust that God would keep them safe. She had to concentrate on the here and now. She had to escape.
“Did George find out about the uranium? Is that why you killed him? He was going to tell, wasn’t he?” She would keep pestering him, hoping to get some of her questions answered. “Why did you burn down the feed shed and let Alexander loose?”
Darrin continued to whittle away, piling slivers of wood on the floor at his feet, offering nothing. She might as well be alone and talking to herself. Maybe a good thing, given the situation.
With his general resemblance to Wyatt, she would stake her reputation on the fact that Darrin Dunn was the man who’d led George away from the Whiskey Saloon and killed him. And tried to frame Wyatt for the murder.
The man was a cold-blooded killer, but no one knew that except her. And she might be his next victim.
Frustration pounded at her temples. The waiting was nearly as maddening as being imprisoned in this awful outbuilding. The chilled air contributed to the numbness in her limbs. She wanted to act, to lash out, but she couldn’t move. She flexed her stiff fingers, wishing she could reach the weapon inside her boot.
The door to the toolshed slid open. Jackie jerked her gaze away from Darrin. Boyd walked in, carrying a whimpering Gabby in his arms like a sack of potatoes.
Jackie’s breath stalled. “Gabby!”
Gabby’s eyes widened. She squirmed ferociously in Boyd’s arms. “Jackie!”
“Do not hurt her!” Jackie exploded as fury poured into her veins. She pulled against her restraints. The tape bit into her arms through her jacket. She didn’t care. Her only concern was for Gabby. If anything happened to her... The thought made it difficult to breathe.
Boyd frowned. “I wouldn’t hurt a kid. She’s fine.”
He set Gabby on her feet. She immediately ran to Jackie’s side and clung to her. Tears streamed down the child’s face. Everything inside Jackie wanted to pull the little girl into her arms, but she couldn’t. She did what she could to soothe Gabby. Jackie tried to nuzzle her with her cheek. “Shh, it’s okay, sweetie. You’re okay.”
Darrin set the wood aside, sheathed his knife inside his cowboy boot and then picked up his handgun from the workbench. He crossed to his brother and handed him the gun. “You watch them. I’ll go make sure Monroe signs the papers.”
Jackie noticed the way Boyd stiffened as he gripped the gun. The man obviously wasn’t comfortable with the piece. She could take advantage of that as long as Gabby wouldn’t be in the line of fire.
As soon as Darrin left, Jackie said, “Boyd, please take this tape off so I can comfort Gabby.” She had to convince him, not only for Gabby, but also for herself. For Wyatt. She couldn’t let him down.
He shook his head. “Naw. Better not. Darrin would get angry. He’s not nice when he’s angry.”
“He won’t know. Please,” she said. “Look at her. She’s terrified.”
As if on cue, Gabby wailed. The sound was plaintive and heartbreaking.
“I don’t know.”
The indecision in his eyes gave her hope. “Come on, she’s a kid. You don’t want to do this.” She remembered the way the two brothers argued. Darrin had wanted Boyd to stay while he went to kidnap Gabby, but Boyd had insisted he’d do it. “You don’t want to hurt Gabby. That’s why you offered to go instead of letting your brother. Right? Because you know he’d hurt her.”
Boyd stared at Gabby. “She looks just like Dina.”
The sad, longing note in his voice sent surprise sliding through Jackie. Boyd and Dina? Jackie remembered the passionate way he’d accused Wyatt of killing Dina. At the time she’d wondered if he’d been related to Dina in some way. Now she understood. He’d loved her. Dina’s words to Wyatt rang in her head. “Could Gabby be yours? Were you and Dina...together?”
He frowned and flushed a deep red. “We never... She wasn’t... We didn’t.”
Jackie was glad to hear that. “But you did love Dina, right?”
“Yes!” A shadow of pain crossed his face. “She deserved so much more than Wyatt Monroe. She was a sweet, beautiful lady. She was withering away on the ranch. We were going to run off together. She was going to divorce Wyatt. We were going to start a new life somewhere else. But then he...” The unspoken accusation hung in the air.
“If you truly loved Dina, then think of what she’d want you to do. Dina wouldn’t want Gabby to be scared. Think of Dina. She would want you to let me loose to comfort her baby.”
Boyd blinked. “I can take care of Dina.” He gave himself a shake. “Dina’s baby.” He moved closer. Gabby shrieked and ducked under the chair, curling into a ball.
He frowned. “Why’s she doing that?”
Holding on to her patience by a thin thread, Jackie kept her voice gentle, as if she were talking to a child. “She’s scared. Boyd, you’re scaring her. Please, let me loose. You have a gun.” She flicked her chin toward his hand where, thankfully, he didn’t have a finger on the trigger. “I’m not going to try anything.”
He glanced down at his hand as if suddenly remembering he held the weapon. “That’s right. I’ve got the power.”
Emboldened by his own statement, he moved to the workbench and rummaged around until he found a small utility knife. When he came back to her side, he said, “Don’t try anything funny or I’ll shoot you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she answered, hoping God would forgive her for the lie if she did do something.
He used the knife to cut through the tape. Then he backed up, the gun aimed at her chest. Jackie crouched down to help Gabby crawl out from under the chair. She wrapped her arms around Jackie’s neck and her legs around her waist. Jackie turned so her back faced Boyd. The warmth of the child pressed against her filled her with a poignant need. A yearning she’d tried to keep locked away but that had surged to the forefront of her heart since she’d come to the ranch. Since she’d met Gabby. And Wyatt.
Jackie stroked Gabby’s red curly hair. Her heart welled with love and a protectiveness that went beyond anything she’d ever felt before. This was what she wanted—needed.
Loud, angry male voices coming from outside filled the shed. Glancing toward the door, Jackie tightened her hold on Gabby.
Boyd’s attention was riveted to the commotion.
Jackie took the opportunity to rush Gabby to the workbench. “Hide,” she whispered to Gabby. “Quick.”
Gabby clung to her for a second then slipped from her arms, scrambled beneath the workbench and wedged herself into a corner behind a large toolbox. While crouched down, Jackie withdrew her weapon from the holster at her ankle and tucked it into her jacket pocket.
“Hey! What are you doing?”
Jackie straightened, keeping her hand in her pocket and her finger on the trigger, and turned slowly toward Boyd.
“Did you kill George?” she asked, hoping to throw him off balance.
“What? No. Not me. That was Darrin’s doing.”
His answer confirmed what she’d already guessed.
He gestured with the gun. “Come away from there.” He scowled with confusion lighting his eyes. “Where’s the kid?”
“But you burned down the shed,” she said, leaving his question unanswered.
He moved forward and bent down to peer under the bench.
“Hey!” Jackie said. “Look at me. I have questions for you.”
She edged away from the workbench, drawing Boyd’s aim away from Gabby. If he did fire, she didn’t want Gabby to be inadvertently hit. “When did you meet Dina? How did you fall in love?”
He jerked upright.
The voices outside grew louder, closer. Jackie thought for a moment that she heard Wyatt’s voice. Not sure if she should be hopeful or scared, she inched farther from the workbench and closer to Boyd.
Hoping to keep him distracted, she peppered him with more questions. “Why did you let Alexander loose? What did you hope to gain? When did you realize there was uranium on the land? Does Pendleton know you’ve kidnapped me and Gabby?”
He glanced her way, blinking as if remembering she was there. “I didn’t mean to let him loose. I was going to take him, but he broke away and ran.”
The door slid open, and Boyd jumped back. Jackie braced herself—then Wyatt stormed inside. Hope shot through her, until she realized he had his hands raised and his features set in stone. Plus he was followed by Frank Dunn, who also had his hands held high. Worry chomped through her. What?
Darrin Dunn filed in behind them, holding a large-caliber tactical rifle. The rifle he’d used to shoot out the tire on her rented SUV.
Apparently Darrin was more unhinged than she’d first guessed. Why was he aiming at his own father? Jackie’s gut clenched with dread.