The Horseman's Son

by Delores Fossen

  With everything going on, they’d obviously forgotten to lock the door.

  “Oh.” Ruth’s hand flew to her mouth.

  Collena didn’t even try to offer an explanation. It would be useless, because she figured she looked well kissed. There was no way to disguise that.

  “Is there a problem?” Dylan asked.

  Hank nodded. “Millie’s not feeling good—she’s got one of her migraines. Ruth and I are going to drive her to the emergency room.”

  Dylan got up from the bed. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “No. We’ll leave just as soon as Millie’s dressed.” But Hank didn’t move. He stood there and scratched his head. “I was in your office checking on those private detectives, and I saw the report about the fingerprints.”

  Collena froze, and that question cooled the rest of her passion. “What fingerprints?”

  “The ones from the newspaper that you say you found outside your door,” Ruth provided. She glared at Dylan. “You didn’t trust me when I told you I had nothing to do with putting it there.”

  “I simply wanted to know whose fingerprints were on it.” He turned to Collena. “In addition to a lot of smudges, there were prints from Hank, Millie and Ruth.”

  “Because we all read that article of lies when it was published five years ago,” Hank insisted.

  Dylan conceded that with a nod. “I also wanted to check and see if Jonah’s prints were there.”

  “Jonah?” Ruth’s hand went to her mouth again. “You think he’s doing something to scare off Collena?”

  “I don’t know. But if so, the newspaper won’t help prove that because his prints weren’t on it.”

  “Jonah could have worn gloves,” Hank suggested.

  Collena silently agreed. In fact, as a police officer, Jonah would have taken steps to cover his tracks.

  “What about security surveillance cameras?” Collena asked, wishing she’d thought of it before. She certainly wasn’t putting her cop’s training to good use.

  Dylan shook his head. “That night, I didn’t have cameras in the corridors. They only went in today. I’m having the security company install them in all the halls and the common areas.”

  “If Jonah’s behind this,” Ruth speculated, “then the cameras probably won’t help because he’s probably already heard about them. Besides, I doubt he’ll be planting any more newspapers.”

  “What’s this about Jonah?” Millie asked. She was squinting, apparently in severe pain.

  Millie’s posture, however, didn’t stop her from looking at Dylan and then Collena. Like her mother and grandfather, Millie probably knew that she and Dylan had just kissed.

  “Let’s go,” Ruth said, gripping her daughter’s arm.

  Even when the women walked away, Hank still didn’t move. “I know I’m not one to give advice,” Hank whispered, “but you two should stay away from each other. And you should watch your backs. It’s a small town, and it doesn’t take long for news to travel. Especially bad news.”

  “Are you trying to tell me something I don’t already know, Hank?” Dylan asked.

  “I’m trying to save your bride’s life. You should get her out of here, Dylan. Send her far away. If not, you’re going to have another death on your hands.”

  DYLAN SAT in his office and stared at the paperwork he needed to be doing. But instead of business, he was thinking about Collena.

  They’d shared a restless night in the nursery. Restless, because of the kiss they’d shared. And because of their intense attraction. Hank’s warning hadn’t helped, either.

  Unfortunately, it wouldn’t necessarily be safer anywhere else for Collena and Adam. At least with them at the ranch Dylan could personally keep an eye on them. Besides, he and Collena needed to be physically together under the same roof, living as a family, so that it’d help them keep custody.

  He checked the security monitor on his desk. It was a split screen that featured the north pasture, the front porch and the playroom where Adam, Collena and Ruth were.

  Collena was wearing jeans and a loose red top. While Adam was playing with a toy horse, she stood and went to the window. She was no doubt checking to make sure all was well.

  Even on the monitor, he could see that Collena was tired. And beautiful. He couldn’t stop his brain from registering that part about her beauty, and it was futile to try. That reckless kiss had sealed his fate. He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to hold her.

  Dylan wanted her in his bed.

  Regrettably, she felt the same. Every inch of him was aware of that. Which brought him to the next matter that wouldn’t leave his mind. How the hell were they going to keep their hands off each other?

  His phone buzzed, and because he needed a change of thought, Dylan quickly glanced at the caller ID. The caller’s identity and number were blocked. Dylan answered it anyway.

  “Greer,” the caller snarled. “It’s Curtis Reese.”

  Dylan instantly went on the defensive. “What do you want?”

  “You mean, other than my grandson? I want your butt in jail for making that threatening phone call to my hotel room. That’s harassment, Greer.”

  “That’s paranoia, because I didn’t call you.”

  “I don’t believe you. And I don’t believe this ridiculous pretense of marriage that you have with Collena.”

  “You know about that?” Dylan was surprised, though he shouldn’t be. He knew that, eventually, Curtis would find out.

  “Of course, I know. It’s all over town. At lunch, that’s all the waitress at the diner could talk about. Love at first sight, she said. That’s what people in town believe. But you and I know better, don’t we? There’s no love in that charade of a marriage.”

  Dylan groaned. Love at first sight. That was not what he wanted people in Greer to be discussing. “You probably set the waitress straight, huh?”

  “I didn’t say a word to her. If the town wants to believe you married Collena for love, then let them. A judge will see it for what it is—a desperate attempt by two desperate people who aren’t fit to raise a child.”

  Dylan detected some movement in the doorway, and he looked up and spotted Collena. That top and jeans looked even better in person.

  It’s Curtis Reese, Dylan mouthed.

  She rolled her eyes and sighed.

  “Unless you plan to drop this custody suit,” Dylan told the man, “then any future calls should go through my lawyer. If not, I’ll consider them harassment.”

  Dylan hung up, but he knew it wasn’t the last he’d hear from Curtis.

  “He’s going to do everything he can to make our lives miserable,” Collena said. She walked closer and looked down at him. “Ruth said a friend of a friend called to say that everyone in town is talking about us.”

  So, there it was—confirmed gossip. Curtis hadn’t been just blowing smoke. “I heard.”

  She made a sound deep in her throat and stood there, almost stoically, but Dylan knew this information was causing a firestorm inside her.

  “Maybe the person who killed your sister and fiancée is long gone.” Her voice was a little unsteady, and she sank down onto the edge of his desk.

  Because she looked as weary as he felt, Dylan stood and pulled her into his arms. Yes, it was stupid. Reckless, even. But it didn’t seem to matter. To the town of Greer, they were a couple, and that news would likely get back to a killer.

  If there was a killer.

  Maybe, just maybe, fate would decide that both of them had already been through enough, and the person responsible for the deaths was either already locked away for other crimes or else dead. Dylan didn’t care which; he just wanted the person away from Collena and Adam.

  “You want a drink to steady your nerves?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I don’t drink. I have a low tolerance for alcohol.” She pulled back and met his gaze. “Besides, with so much going on, I should keep a clear head.”

  “I agree.”


  But he kissed her anyway.

  It was worse than the kiss the night before because this one came naturally. It was as if he’d kissed her a thousand times. Too bad that feeling didn’t satiate the fire growing inside him.

  He stopped, ran his tongue over his lips and was pleased to taste her there.

  “I’ll bet you’re going to remind me that kissing you is a mistake,” he said.

  She shook her head. “No, but I should remind myself.” Collena reached out and smoothed her hand over his face. “Maybe we knew each other in a past life or something. Maybe that’s why we feel so connected.”

  Surprised and amused, he flexed his eyebrows. “You believe in past lives?”

  “Not really. But I’ve gone through all the logical answers and have moved on to the illogical ones to explain why I’m so attracted to you. I want to have sex with you.” She wagged her index finger at him to stop him from jumping on that. “It wasn’t an invitation.”

  Dylan knew that. She was fighting this as much as he was. And, like him, she was failing. Still, it was easier to think of the attraction than the other realities that were nipping at their heels.

  “We could just try it,” he offered, tongue-in-cheek. “Maybe we’d suck in bed together.”

  “Suck,” she repeated, flexing her eyebrows. “You know it wouldn’t suck. It would probably be the best experience I’ve ever had, and it would do all sorts of things to remind me that I’m a woman.”

  “You don’t like to be reminded of that?” he asked, serious now.

  “Let’s just say that, as a woman, I’ve made choices that weren’t always good. So, I’m trying to think more like a mother and more like a cop.”

  “Cops and mothers can still have sex.”

  She frowned at his smile and used her fingers to draw down the corners of his mouth. The heat rifled through his body. And he instantly wanted more. With her touching his face. With them so close that all he had to do was reach out, pull her to him and kiss her again.

  But Collena put an end to that short fantasy. She moved away from him and went to the French doors that led to the side yard and pasture. Her maneuver didn’t mean this discussion was over. Far from it. The attraction wasn’t going away and, sooner or later, they’d have to address it.

  “Adam is amazing,” Collena said with her back to him. “When he wakes up from his afternoon nap, I thought maybe the three of us could do something together.”

  “I’d like that.” In fact, that felt as inviting as the whole idea of having sex with Collena.

  And that meant he was in serious trouble here.

  Collena glanced at him over her shoulder. There was a hint of a smile on her face.

  The moment seemed to freeze.

  Dylan sensed that something was wrong a split second too late.

  A bullet crashed through the glass panes of the French doors.

  Chapter Ten

  The sound of the shot registered in Collena’s head just as Dylan and she drove to the floor.

  It was just in time, because the next bullet shattered the glass right in front of where she’d been standing.

  The adrenaline was quick, hitting her hard and causing her blood pressure and heart rate to spike. She didn’t have her gun. She’d left it in her room when she went to spend time with Adam.

  That could turn out to be a fatal mistake.

  Because someone wanted them dead. Rodney Harmon, probably. He’d found her, and this time, he’d come to deliver on that promise to kill her.

  Dylan scrambled to the side and took her with him. He also put himself in between those bullets and her body. It was admirable. Heroic, even. But she wanted to throttle him for nearly getting himself killed to save her.

  “My gun’s in the desk drawer,” he said. His breath was rough.

  Collena knew what that meant—the desk drawer was in the line of fire. Whoever was shooting at them would be able to hit Dylan or her if they went after the gun.

  The same was true is they tried to get to the door that led to the corridor.

  They were trapped.

  There was another shot. Then another. Both tore through the thick glass and sent it spewing across the room. Collena ducked down and sheltered her eyes to prevent being hit.

  “Where’s your phone?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “On the desk.”

  Both of them cursed. Someone had to get to the phone. They had to warn Ruth to keep Adam safe and they had to call the sheriff. Of course, someone in the house had likely heard the shots by now. After all, the two P.I.s were in a guest room that they’d converted to an office. Maybe the sheriff was already on the way.

  Or Jonah, if the sheriff had sent him again instead.

  And that caused Collena’s heart rate to spike even more. If Rodney Harmon was indeed out there shooting at them, she didn’t think Jonah would do much to deter him.

  Two more bullets slammed through the door, each of them taking huge bites out of the wood. Splinters and glass pelted them.

  “The gunman’s closer,” Dylan said.

  Collena lifted her head and listened. The next shot confirmed that.

  The gunman was moving toward the house. Toward their son.

  Oh, God.

  The shooter was armed with a high-powered rifle and might start firing into the nursery where Adam was napping.

  “I have to get my gun and phone,” Dylan informed her. He started to move, but she latched on to his arm.

  “It’d be suicide. We need some kind of diversion.”

  Collena glanced around the room, looking for something—anything—while the gunman continued to blast through the French doors. They didn’t have much time. The shots were getting closer, and there wouldn’t be much of the doors left as a barrier once the gunman made it to them.

  “Throw anything you can get your hands on at the French doors,” Dylan ordered.

  Collena considered his plan. It wasn’t much of a diversion, but it was the only one they had. She prayed it would work, and she grabbed the pillows from the cozy chairs next to the fireplace.

  “Now,” Dylan said.

  She hurled the first pillow at the door and quickly followed it with another. Collena didn’t stop there. She stood and grabbed the items from the mantel. Pictures, flowers and even a heavy brass horse figurine all flew in the direction of the doors. Hopefully, she was creating a visual barrier for Dylan.

  But the gunman didn’t stop.

  At a furious, almost frantic pace, the bullets began to rip through the house.

  Dylan sprang into action. With the objects flying through the air, he dove toward his desk, landing amid the glass, splinters and debris.

  Collena pushed her concern and fear for him aside and started to throw the books from the side shelves that flanked the fireplace. When she saw Dylan reach up, she knew he was at the most vulnerable point of this plan to retrieve his gun and phone. She had to do something more.

  But what?

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dylan make his move to the desk. Collena looked up and spotted the painting over the fireplace. It was the only thing within her reach that was large enough to do any good. She ripped it from the wall, and while Dylan lifted his head to grab what he needed, she stuck out the painting and tried to use it as a barrier.

  A shot tore through the canvas.

  “Hurry!” she shouted to Dylan.

  There wasn’t much left of the glass, but there was enough wood in the door frame to pose a significant risk to both of them. But it wasn’t nearly as big a risk as not getting the phone and his gun. They needed the items to keep Adam safe.

  Dylan grabbed both from the desk and dove back toward the fireplace. Collena dropped the shredded picture and took his cell phone. Dylan rattled off the number to her so she could call the line in the nursery and playroom. A line that Ruth should have answered.

  She didn’t.

  That did it. Collena went from being afraid to being terrified. Her so
n had to be all right.

  She tried the number again, while the bullets continued to riddle the house. Dylan called out a new set of numbers, and Collena frantically pressed them in.

  Ina, the cook, finally answered.

  “What’s going on? What’s that noise?” the woman shouted. “Is somebody shootin’ at us?”

  “Yes. Stay down and try to let Ruth know what’s happening so she can keep Adam away from the windows.”

  “I will. I already called Sheriff Hathaway and told him to get himself out here.”

  Thank God. But Collena immediately rethought that. “Is he bringing Jonah?”

  “No. He said Jonah wasn’t there so he said he’d come himself. He called in the night-shift deputy who’s supposed to meet him here.”

  That was good. If they made it in time.

  “Try to check on Adam,” Collena instructed. “And let the two P.I.s know what’s going on. Just don’t come into Dylan’s office. Don’t even get near the door. Because that’s where Dylan and I are pinned down, and it’s where the gunman is shooting.”

  Collena ended the call so she could keep the line open in case the sheriff tried to phone them.

  Dylan inched toward the gaping holes in the French doors, took a quick look and then pulled back.

  “I don’t see anyone,” he relayed to her.

  That meant the gunman was likely using the outbuildings as cover. But it didn’t explain how the person had gotten there in the first place. The security monitors should have detected the movement. Or the P.I.s should have spotted someone skulking across the property. Did that mean the system had malfunctioned?

  Or had someone tampered with it?

  There was a lull in the shooting, and Dylan levered himself up to get a better look. Collena saw him stiffen, and he took aim.

  He fired.

  So did the shooter.

  The bullet came so close to him that Collena could practically feel it. It slammed into the far wall near the corridor door.

  Dylan started to fire again, but Collena pulled him back. It was a good thing, too, because the next barrage of bullets pelted the room, hitting everything in their path.

  Collena scrambled to the corner, using the thick stone fireplace as cover—the bullets couldn’t penetrate that. She also kept a firm grip on Dylan’s arm and tried to prevent him from attempting to return fire. While she wanted him to do that for Adam’s sake, she knew it was simply too big a risk to take. She had to hold on to the hope that the nursery was out of the gunman’s reach.