by R. C. Ryan
“I’d do it again. All it takes is a brain and a steady hand. And I have both. I actually felt a rush of adrenaline, especially when I took out a legend like Bear. That rich, arrogant fool never even saw it coming.”
His words hit Whit with all the force of a bullet to the heart.
“You…killed my father?”
“I killed the great Bear MacKenzie.” Lance spoke the words almost gleefully. “He found out I’d forged his signature on some documents. After I begged his forgiveness and said I’d make good on any debts, he agreed to meet with me before telling my father what I’d done. So, of course, I had to work fast to see that my secret wasn’t revealed.”
All the color drained from Whit’s face. His hands fisted at his sides. His eyes were blinded by a red mist of fury.
From the look on his face, it was obvious that he was so overcome with pain and rage he was beyond words or reason.
Lance turned from Cara and took aim at Whit with the pistol, intending to fire at point-blank range. In that same instant, Cara reacted instinctively, knocking his hand upward and causing the bullet to deflect to a nearby tree.
Before Lance could try again, Whit was on him like an enraged animal, driving him backward into the dirt.
As he fell, Lance managed to hold on to the pistol, and as Whit’s hands closed around his throat, he squeezed off a shot.
Whit’s body jerked backward and his right arm dropped uselessly to his side. Still, he managed to knock the pistol from Lance’s hand before landing his left fist squarely into Lance’s nose, causing a fountain of blood to spurt.
The two men rolled around on the ground, grunting with pain and exertion as they exchanged lethal punches.
Despite Whit’s fury-driven frenzy, Cara could see his energy flagging with every blow. When Lance sensed victory, his fingers scrabbled around in the dirt until they encountered the gun.
He gave one of his most chilling laughs as he took aim. “All for nothing. You’re going to die, MacKenzie. And I’ll see to it that the only prints on the gun belong to the woman.”
The sky above seemed to fill with helicopters, their blades whirring. The Cessna roared directly overhead before coming to a bumpy landing. Emerging from the woods, half a dozen trucks and police vehicles circled the two men on the ground.
Seeing all his chances of laying blame on Cara slipping away, Lance turned his full fury on Whit. Before he could fire, he gave a shocked scream at the red-hot pain emanating from his back. A quick glance behind him showed Cara standing over him. In her hands was the switchblade he’d left lying beside the log.
“You’ll pay…” He struggled to aim the pistol, but before he could take a shot, his body betrayed him, and he fell forward.
“Don’t kill him,” Whit cried as the police sharpshooters surrounded them. “I want him to pay for a lifetime for what he…” His words trailed off as he lost consciousness.
“Whit.” Cara scrambled to lift the heavy burden of Lance’s body away before kneeling beside the still form of Whit, blood oozing through his shirt.
Had the bullet torn through his heart?
Cara was gripped by a feeling of absolute terror. “Oh no, Whit. Please don’t die. This is all my fault. Please, Whit. Oh, please. I don’t know what I’ll do if you die.”
While the police and the MacKenzies hurried forward to assist, Cara wrapped her arms around the unconscious Whit, rocking him while her tears spilled over him in a torrent.
She looked up at his mother, who joined Cara, pillowing Whit’s head in her lap.
Seeing mother and son, Cara felt her poor heart break in two. “I’m so sorry, Willow. Myrna’s dead, and now Whit. And it’s all because of me.”
After several moments of stunned silence, the air was suddenly filled with shouts as Ira and the police took charge.
“We need a medic,” the chief called. “What’s the holdup?”
Uniformed officers rushed forward. While several bent over Lance, proclaiming him alive and securing him to a gurney, more gathered around Whit.
One of the medics ordered Cara to move away, but she didn’t seem to hear.
“Ma’am,” the officer said gently, drawing first Cara and then Willow aside. “We need to examine the patient.”
Juliet, who had been racing to keep up with Mad’s scooter, dropped to her knees beside Cara and drew the young woman into her arms while Brady gathered Willow close and attempted to soothe her.
“He’s dead,” Cara whispered. “And it’s all my fault.”
“Shhh.” Juliet smoothed her hair in an attempt to comfort. “Let the medics do their job.”
As the others formed a close circle around the still form, they seemed to stop breathing until the medic lifted his head to declare, “There’s a pulse. It’s feeble, but he’s alive. Get a gurney over here.”
As they strapped Whit onto the gurney in preparation for the flight to the clinic, Mad clapped a big work-worn hand on his grandson’s shoulder. “I hope you can hear me, lad. You stay strong. All of us will be fighting right along with you.”
“Mad…” Whit’s voice was little more than a croak. “Mom.” He struggled to see through the hazy mist that clouded his vision. “Lance…killed…Pop.”
For a moment Mad appeared too stunned to speak. He looked at the others. “Is the lad hallucinating?”
Cara turned from Juliet’s arms. “No, Mad. Lance admitted it. In fact, he bragged about it.”
“But why?” Willow’s face was drained of color. Her voice was little more than a shocked whisper.
“He bragged that he killed Bear and that old man in Red Rock. He boasted that he killed others because he wanted what they’d worked a lifetime to obtain—their land and the mineral rights.”
Around the clearing, there were muttered curses and passionate oaths as both the family and the authorities considered the implications.
When the crew lifted the gurney, Cara leapt to her feet to clutch Whit’s hand between both of hers. With tears streaming down her face, she moved along by his side.
When they reached the copter, one of the officers turned to her. “I’m sorry, miss. You’ll have to say your good-byes here. This is as far as you can go.”
She started to follow orders, but Whit’s hand tightened on hers.
Seeing it, the medic glanced at the others. “Looks like our patient has a mind of his own. Our job is to heal. And I’d say this young woman is probably the best medicine of all.” He smiled at her. “I think you’d better come with us, or our patient might refuse to go without you.”
With a shy wave to the others, Cara climbed inside the police chopper, all the while holding tightly to Whit’s cold hand.
As they rose into the air, creating a whirlwind of dirt and grass, those on the ground were left to comfort one another while trying to fully comprehend the enormity of what had just transpired.
After a year of questions and doubts and mistrust, Bear’s killer was finally revealed. He was motivated not because of a grudge, or the famous MacKenzie temper, or a debt that was owed, but because of greed. A coward who had coveted what Bear MacKenzie had spent a lifetime earning by the sweat of his brow, simply shot him in the back and left him to die by the banks of Copper Creek.
And now that same cowardly killer had left both Whit and Myrna fighting for their lives.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Morning, Doc.” Mad wheeled his scooter along the hall of the Copper Creek Clinic. “How are our patients doing today?”
“Fine. Day four now, and I’m amazed at how much both Myrna and Whit have improved.” The doctor paused outside a closed door. “We got your grandson up and walking yesterday. He was as wobbly as a toddler, and not happy about his weakness. But he kept on pushing himself until he didn’t need any help. As for Myrna, she must have a guardian angel on her side. Two bullets and she won’t have any permanent injuries, except for some stiffness in one shoulder. I have a therapist working with her. She’ll be good as new in no
time.”
“Poor thing.” Willow, standing alongside her father-in-law, shook her head. “She’s just itching to get home.”
“She’s not as bad as Whit.” Dr. Mullin chuckled softly. “I swear, if he could fly, he’d already be there. The only thing keeping him sane is having Cara at his side.”
Willow’s voice lowered. “I’m worried about that girl. I know she’s glued to Whit’s side, but she hasn’t been herself since her abduction.”
The doctor nodded. “I’ve noticed that, too. She’s quiet and withdrawn. She seems to be carrying a heavy load of guilt.”
“What does the lass have to be guilty of?” Mad demanded. “She did everything right. Kept her head, never lost her courage, and according to Whit, was the innocent victim in all this.”
“She believes she brought all this trouble to your doorstep.”
“Bear was shot long before she came along.” Willow’s lips quivered just speaking those words.
“But Evil Eyes, as she calls her abductor, shot both Myrna and Whit, and she blames herself because she believes that had she not been with your family, they would have been spared.”
“And we’d have never known about his hideous crimes.” Mad’s burr thickened. “Have ye told the lass that?”
The doctor nodded. “I’ve tried. But she’s not convinced.”
At his words, the two fell silent for a moment before he gave the news he’d been withholding. “I do believe we may be able to send your patients home within the next day or two.”
“That’s the news we’ve been waiting for, Doc.” Mad’s frown of concern disappeared and his face was wreathed in smiles. “You’ve made a lot of people a whole lot happier today.”
They shook hands before going their separate ways.
At dinner that night, the discussion, as usual, centered around those who were missing.
“Dr. Mullin agreed with us about Cara,” Willow said as they gathered at the big kitchen table. “He thinks she somehow feels responsible for bringing all this trouble on our family.”
“That’s crazy.” Ash dropped his fork with a clatter. “If anything, she’s responsible for uncovering the mystery of Pop’s death. If Lance hadn’t come after her to keep her from identifying him as the stranger she’d seen at Abe’s ranch, we would still be in the dark about who shot Pop and why.”
Willow reached over to Brenna before glancing around the table at the others. “I think Brenna’s assessment the other day was right on. Poor Cara seems to have drawn into some sort of protective shell while she helps Whit through his recovery. But I’m afraid that sooner or later she may snap if she doesn’t let go of this wrongheaded belief that she is somehow responsible for luring Lance out of the shadows and into our lives.”
“Speaking of guilt…” Mad shoved aside his plate, his dinner half eaten. “Mason McMillan left a message saying he was horrified by the news of his son’s crimes and hoped we could find it in our hearts to someday forgive him for his ignorance.”
“This wasn’t Mason’s fault.” Willow got to her feet in agitation. “That poor old man must be reeling.” She turned to Brady. “I need to phone him. Will you meet me in my office after you’ve finished eating?”
Brady shoved back his chair. “I don’t seem to have much of an appetite lately.”
When the two disappeared down the hallway, Juliet let out a deep sigh. “We should be thrilled that a murderer has been exposed and both Whit and Myrna are recovering nicely. But in truth, we’re all more nervous and jumpy than ever.”
Mad put a hand over hers. “These things take time, lass. I doubt we’ll find any peace until we’re all together again, whole and healthy, and ready to stand together as a family once more.”
Griff managed a smile. “What amazes me is that I spent a lifetime alone, and in the short time I’ve been part of this family, I’ve begun to accept it as my right. After the last few days, I’ll never again take it for granted.” He drew his wife and two small sons into the circle of his arms before adding solemnly, “And, like Whit and Cara, I’d fight like a wounded bear if anyone tried to harm the people I love.”
Whit watched as Cara dozed in the reclining chair pulled up alongside his bed. He was grateful that she’d finally fallen asleep. In the days and nights he’d been here, she had refused to leave. And whenever he awoke from a drug-induced sleep, she’d been hovering at his side, watching for any sign of pain or trouble.
Like an avenging angel.
The thought had him smiling. He’d been so proud of the way she’d handled her ordeal. Proud of the fact that, despite what must have been a terrifying situation, she’d remained cool and ready to fight her abductor.
He’d tried to tell her how he felt, but between the bone-jarring pain and the drugs Dr. Mullin kept forcing him to take, there’d been no time.
Today, for the first time since he’d been shot, he was feeling strong enough to resist any more drugs. He intended to force himself to walk the entire length of the corridor and back to convince the doctor that he was ready to get out of this place.
Myrna, too, was anxious to leave. The old woman had insisted on being wheeled into his room yesterday to see for herself that one of her “boys” was healing. She and Cara had fallen into one another’s arms and wept a river of tears. Long after Myrna had returned to her room, Cara had been inconsolable, as though, Whit thought with a frown, she’d been the one to shoot that sweet old woman.
“You’re awake.” Cara’s head came up sharply and she was on her feet instantly, touching a hand to Whit’s forehead. “Oh, thank heaven. No more fever.”
“That’s odd.” He closed a hand over hers. “If I don’t have a fever, what’s got me feeling so hot?” With a grin, he answered his own question. “I guess it must be the hot babe standing beside me.”
Instead of the chuckle he’d expected, she looked almost sad. “Don’t joke, Whit. You need to take this more seriously. You almost died up in those hills.”
“But I didn’t. Thanks to you.”
Her head snapped up as though she’d been slapped. “Thanks to me, you got shot.”
“As I recall, it was Lance who shot me, not you.”
“But it was my fault you were there. It was my fault he came to the house and shot Myrna. And my fault that old Abe Crawford was killed.”
“Hey. That’s a whole lot of heavy guilt for one little woman.” He reached out and grabbed her wrist, forcing her to lean toward him. “Thanks to you, I finally know who shot my father.”
When she remained silent, he pulled her down until she was perched on the edge of his bed. “What’s wrong, Cara? What’s going on in that mind of yours? Talk to me, please.”
She wouldn’t meet his eyes. Instead she stared at his hands, gently holding her against her will. “Lance was right. He called me a nobody whose mother was a tramp with so many men in her life she couldn’t even identify which one was my father. Even though he was a stranger, Lance knew everything about me. The fact that I was homeless, drifting from job to job. He knew about Jared Billingham and had even bribed him to say I’d stolen from him.”
“Chief Pettigrew said the police detective who interviewed Billingham got him to admit the truth. He’d done everything he could to control your life and hadn’t given a thought to what effect that might have on you and your future. And he’s admitted to sending you those threatening texts. Now that his secret is out, he’s feeling ashamed and sorry.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Everything else that evil-eyed man said about me was the truth. I’m a loser. A nobody.”
“You saved my life and exposed the coward who shot my father in the back. I’d say that’s something to be proud of.”
She looked away. “Really? I finally did something right. Are you suggesting that makes up for a lifetime of wrongs?”
Whit sat up and caught her chin in his hands, forcing her to look at him. “Cara, you’re the finest person I’ve ever known. You’re fun and sweet
and good.” His tone lightened. “And you’re not bad-looking, either.”
When she didn’t respond with a laugh as he’d hoped, he gathered her close and covered her mouth with his.
He felt her shivering response and knew she wasn’t as unmoved as she tried to appear.
“Mind if I try that again?” He drew her even closer and kissed her until they were both breathless.
He drew a little away. “Okay. Your turn. Is there anything nice you’d like to say to me before I kiss you again?”
She looked as though she might cry. “Whit MacKenzie, you’re the finest man I’ve ever known. I can’t even imagine finding anyone who could come close to you. You think I saved your life, but in truth, you saved mine. And I can never repay you or your family for what I’ve been given. Your entire family is so good and fine. They welcomed a stranger into their home and made me feel like I belonged. For someone who’s never belonged anywhere, it’s the greatest gift I’ve ever been given. I’ve never known anyone like them, or you. Especially you. Even with my crazy imagination, I could have never created a finer man than you.”
“Thank you.” He touched a thumb to her lower lip. “So why does that make you so sad?”
“Because I’ll—”
They both looked up as the doctor walked in, followed by his assistant.
“Good news, Whit. I know you’ve been chomping at the bit, so today is your lucky day. You and Myrna are both being discharged. I’ve already phoned your family to pick you up.”
“Thanks, Doc.” Whit shook his hand.
“When you’re dressed, Kate will wheel you to the door.”
“I can walk.”
Dr. Mullin shook his head. “Protocol. You’ll ride, whether you like it or not.” He beckoned to Cara. “Myrna’s asking for you.”
She nodded and started to follow him to the door.
Whit caught her hand and drew her back for a long, lingering kiss.
With a sexy grin he said, “I just needed that to hold me until I can get you alone.”
She walked away without a word.