19
SOMEONE WAS SHOOTING AT THEM. RATHER THAN ANYONE hunting, it was likely whoever had poisoned six of her cows, and they had now set their sights on her and Thomas.
Well, Laurel thought so. It was hard to know for sure, seeing that she was currently pinned underneath her hired hand. He had his elbows propped up on the hard earth, his rifle clutched in his hands. From what she could tell—and she couldn’t ascertain much from her position—his focus was on whoever was firing shots.
She, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything other than the fact that she was lying on the ground underneath a very large man.
She was sweating profusely. It was making her hair stick to her neck and her durable riding dress feel like it weighed two hundred pounds. A smattering of gravel and rocks was digging into her palms and cheek. What little bit of air she could inhale was infused with dust and grime.
She should be in pain. She should be terribly uncomfortable.
Instead, as each second passed, all Laurel could seem to think about was how Thomas’s skin smelled of soap and leather. How he was holding his body firm and still, seemingly from sheer force of will.
She realized then that he’d probably participated in many such battles. His body was conditioned to respond to danger.
After several minutes passed in silence, she whispered, “Are they still out there?”
“I can’t tell,” he muttered under his breath as he shifted again, obviously attempting to cover her even more completely.
There was no way she was going to let Thomas get shot while trying to protect her. They both needed to move to safety. “Thomas, I need to get up.”
“Stop squirming.”
Feeling certain that she would rather face whatever was about to happen head-on than continue to lie underneath him, Laurel pushed against his torso with her shoulders.
He groaned. “Laurel—”
“No, this won’t do,” she protested. Though the way she was half squashed on the ground, there was no doubt her words came out garbled.
“I’m trying to keep you safe, woman.”
“I understand that, but you are also stifling me. I’m finding it difficult to breathe.”
He shifted, somehow managing to cover her body even more. “If you are alive, that’s all I care about.”
Though she appreciated his gallantry, she knew she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if he died shielding her. Thinking of the only thing that might encourage him to ease up a bit, she hissed, “I’m not going to be alive if I suffocate. Please. Allow me some space to breathe.”
At last he moved, but it was with obvious reluctance.
“There,” he said when he shifted a few inches to his right. Now he was only covering a portion of her body. “Inhale.”
The fresh, clean air felt like a gift to her lungs. She breathed in deep. “Can you see who’s out there?”
“No. This old rifle is better than nothing, but it doesn’t have the scope my old Winchester did.” Ruefully, he said, “I’d give a whole lot to have it in my hand right about now.”
She was wishing she’d brought her brother’s rifle. She wasn’t a sure shot, but she could certainly handle a weapon well enough to feel safer with one in her hand.
Glad that he hadn’t yet pushed her back down, she kept herself close to the ground as she took several more fortifying breaths. She also scanned the horizon, silently hoping the people who’d already done so much harm had already left.
Beside her, Thomas was looking intently to the west, his eyes squinting in the sun. “Down,” he commanded.
She pressed herself flat again, but not before she saw a sparkle of metal in reflection off the creek. Seconds after, she heard another crack of a gun.
“Whoever it is, he’s closer,” Thomas said. “We need to get you out of here.”
“We both need to get out of here, Sergeant.”
“I thought we’d moved to calling each other by our first names.”
She didn’t want to waste time verbally sparring. Instead, she stayed silent, hoping and praying she would be able to follow whatever instruction he was about to give her.
After another minute passed, he tilted his head toward Velvet and Yellow, who for some reason hadn’t run off. “How well can you ride?”
“As well as you need me to.”
“Good.” After looking in the direction from where the shots were fired, he said, “On my mark, we’re going to rush to our horses, mount them quickly, and race to the house.”
“I can do that.”
“Laurel, when you’re on that horse, you keep your body low and ride fast. As fast as you’ve ever ridden in your life,” he continued, his voice rough with worry. “You understand?”
She was getting nervous now. Doubting her abilities. But she couldn’t let him know that. “I understand.”
He looked at her again. “If I fall behind for some reason, you continue without me. Don’t wait.”
No, that didn’t sound good. “Thomas—”
“I’m real glad you’re calling me by name now, darlin’, but what I need to hear is your promise.”
“I can’t promise you that. If you’re hurt—”
“You can. You must. Promise me.” He paused, obviously waiting.
“What kind of woman would I be to leave you?”
His tone became more emphatic. “I’m trying to keep you alive, Laurel.” Before she could protest again, he glared at her. “On three, move,” he bit out. “Promise me you’ll do it.”
“I promise.”
“Thank you.” His blue eyes scanned her face, softening for the briefest of moments, then he spoke. “One.”
She tensed, pressing her palms against the rough terrain. The corner of a sharp rock dug into her skin.
“Two.”
Her mouth went dry as she moved to a crouch.
“Three.”
Not daring to focus on anything but her promise, she sprang to her feet, turned with a stumble, then rushed toward Velvet.
As she ran over the rough earth, dust and gravel lifting into a cloud around her, she concentrated on making it to her mare.
She felt Thomas’s presence behind her. Still shielding her. Still urging her forward.
The horse was skittish, looking at her with one wary eye, pawing the ground with one hoof.
“Velvet,” she whispered.
As she reached out a hand for the reins, another crack filled the air. Closer to the horses than before. Velvet whinnied, then reared in fright. Laurel scrambled backward, ducking to avoid being inadvertently struck.
When Laurel straightened, reaching out a hand to try to calm the mare, the horse whinnied again, then tore off into the distance.
When Yellow cried out, then stumbled, Laurel cried out, too, as Thomas attempted to calm the spooked horse. But just as he got the reins loosened, the intruder fired again, this time even closer.
Kicking his hooves, Yellow let loose a sharp cry. Thomas jumped back, barely preventing himself from getting kicked.
“Thomas!” Laurel called out.
“I’m okay,” he said around his panting as Yellow reared and snorted, then darted to their right. Seconds later, the horse raced away, a cloud of dust rising around his hooves.
Though Laurel ached to be tough, it was disheartening to see their mounts disappear like birds in flight.
They had nothing now.
Hooves pounded the ground, the vibration feeling like a train was approaching. Their attackers were much closer now. At least two riders by the sound of it.
Thomas reached for her, pulling her back to his side as they took shelter next to the creek’s bank.
Fearing the worst, afraid as those who seemed to enjoy preying on them drew near, Laurel closed her eyes and silently cried out to the only One who could help them.
Why, God? she asked. Why would you take away my parents, my brother, my future, my cattle, but then bring me a helper in Thomas . . . onl
y to take even that away?
What was she going to do? The situation felt so hopeless. She’d never felt so alone. Tears flooded her eyes and began to trickle down her cheeks.
“Don’t, Laurel,” Thomas said roughly.
Confused by his words, she turned, only to realize he was now crouched and pulling her against him as he guided her next to the deceptive safety of a pair of mesquite trees.
“Don’t you start crying,” he ordered.
“I’m trying not to.”
“Good. I need you tough now. Don’t you dare give up on me.”
“I won’t.” After a few endless minutes passed, she realized she could no longer hear the riders.
“I think they’re gone,” he said, affirming her thoughts.
His voice was flat. She imagined that he, too, was realizing that not only could their attackers come back, but they were in the middle of her ranch in heat that had now risen to at least a hundred degrees.
“It’ll be okay.”
“You sound so certain.”
“I’ve been in worse situations. I’m not worried.”
His words were so welcome, so needed, that she allowed herself to lean against him, taking refuge in his solid form, even though her head reminded her there was little he could do to ensure their protection or propel them to safety.
“Breathe, Laurel.”
Dutifully, she did as he bid. But even the intake of oxygen did no good. The air was so hot it felt like it was burning a path down her insides each time she inhaled.
After a few seconds, Thomas shifted and wrapped one strong arm around her shoulders. She felt the hard muscles of his arms and chest against her curves. His scent surrounded her once more. Leather and man.
Against her will, she found comfort in it. Even though it was all too much. Too intimate for two people who really didn’t know each other all that well.
Nonetheless, she leaned into the comfort and took refuge in it. “I’m scared,” she admitted. “I’m trying to be brave, but I fear I’m all out of bravery. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Rubbing her shoulder and arm, he said quietly, “Matter of fact, I’d be real concerned if you weren’t scared.”
Something in his voice caught her in its grip. Was it the thread of doubt? The thin wavering of his confidence? “Are you?”
“Scared? A little bit.”
Laurel twisted to examine his expression. When she realized he was being completely serious, she blurted, “I’m scared we won’t get home. Is—is that what you are afraid of too?”
“I’m afraid someone is going to try to hurt you again and I won’t be able to prevent it. I’m afraid my best efforts won’t be enough.”
They heard another thundering of hooves, sending them both back to high alert. But to Laurel’s surprise, the two riders were moving away from them. “They’re not circling back toward us,” she said after a moment.
“It seems so.”
“Why would they do that? Now that we’re here without horses, it would be so easy to finish the job.”
“I couldn’t say why they’re leaving,” he said after a pause. “Perhaps they only wanted to scare us, and then scare the horses as well to strand us.”
“That makes sense.” Poisoning cattle was bad enough. But horses, of course, were even more valuable than cattle. No one shot at horses, unless their intention was to run them off.
He tilted his head back so he could see her whole expression. “You doing all right now?”
“Yes. I think so.”
“Good.” Carefully, he removed his arm and stood up. “You’re right about all this not making a lick of sense. It certainly doesn’t. But I don’t suppose it really matters. What is a concern is that we’re currently at least three miles from your homestead in this heat.”
Leaning down, he offered his hand to assist her to her feet. “We need to get you home as soon as possible. Or at the very least, out of the sun. That means we had better get started.”
“Yes.” She looked back at the dead cattle. “I also need to inform Sheriff Jackson about all that’s happened.”
“We both will. After we get back to safety.”
“Walking will take us hours.” She sighed. “Bess and Jerome aren’t even on the ranch anymore to miss us. Too bad Landon didn’t ask me to supper for tonight. He would no doubt come over when I didn’t show up at his house. Maybe he’d even send out a search party,” she added.
“Though it pains me to say it, I would hope he’d come quickly.” He smiled then, showing his beautiful teeth. The effect was no doubt what he intended—blinding.
She barely refrained from rolling her eyes as they started walking. He truly was too much. “You have attitude in abundance, sir.”
“I’ve been told that once or twice before.”
“When you were a boy, did your mother despair of you?”
The muscles in his cheek twitched. “She did. She, uh, thought I was incorrigible. She said I would never be the scholar my brother was destined to be.”
“And were you ever like him?” she teased.
“No.”
She looked at him in surprise. “Why not? You didn’t care to be?”
“I was too hotheaded, I’m afraid.” He held out an arm as they climbed over a small thicket of large prickly bushes. “Careful. These thorns can hurt.”
She held on to his hand as she maneuvered her way around the thicket. Once she was satisfied her calico wasn’t stuck in the thorns, she smiled up at him. “What did you do that was so wrong?”
But he didn’t smile back. If anything, he looked more pained. “Nothing I would care to talk about.”
Realizing she’d struck a nerve, she refrained from pushing anymore. After all, she had just as many people in her life who were long gone and memories she didn’t care to talk about.
After another twenty minutes, she wiped at the trickle of sweat dripping down her forehead. “Do you think we’ve gone a mile yet?”
“Maybe half. No farther.”
She pulled at the collar of her dress. “You sound so sure.”
“You’re talking to a man who spent the majority of his days in the war marching across miles of fields and roads. My feet have a good idea of what walking a mile feels like.”
Staring forward, she said, “Maybe Velvet will be waiting along the vista.”
“I hope so.”
“We should have taken a sip of water from the creek.”
“It’s good we did not, Miss Laurel,” he said, his voice rough. “We can’t be sure that note told the truth.” He paused. “Though the cattle looked like they had been dead long enough for the other cattle to have been poisoned by the creek, too, if there was something in the water. After all, they were positioned downstream, but they looked fine when we saw them. I’ll find out what happened. I promise.”
Thomas looked so certain, his expression so determined, she began to fear what he was going to do when he did discover what happened. “And then . . . and then you’ll tell the sheriff?”
“No. And then they’ll pay.”
His voice was so cold, his words so dark and filled with terrible promises, she stumbled again.
Automatically, he took hold of her elbow. “Careful now. You almost hurt yourself.”
“I’m fine.”
He didn’t release her. “I see that. But still, slow down now. We’ve got time and it’s hot.”
That was where he was wrong. She needed to do something. She needed to do anything she could to make things better! Shaking her head, she said, “No, Sergeant. We need to hurry. We’ve got to inform the sheriff about what happened. And the men . . .”
Instead of moving away, he held her closer. “And the men are long gone,” he finished, his voice gravelly in her ear. “That means we don’t need to get overheated. We need to pace ourselves. Everything will happen when the time is right, Laurel. I promise, the Lord takes care of his children. Somehow, some way, he’s gonna make sure we get
back to your place okay.”
“You . . . you really believe that, don’t you?”
“I used to not believe. But now I know better. I still make mistakes, do things my own way too much. But I haven’t forgotten what I learned from the men who became my friends on Johnson’s Island. They knew that no matter what, God was in control. And they lived accordingly.” Gradually, he released his hold on her. “Okay?”
As his words permeated at last, she realized everything he’d been saying made sense. They needed to trust in the Lord. They needed to bide their time and be cautious. Only then would they survive.
She drew in a ragged breath. “Okay.”
He flashed her one of his perfect smiles. “Good girl.”
She nodded. Thinking about his advice, about everything he’d done for her in the last twenty-four hours, she said, “Thomas, have I thanked you enough?”
He pulled back his hat so she could see his bright-blue eyes. “You shouldn’t be thanking me for anything, Laurel.”
“How can you say that?”
“Easily. You’re in my care but walking miles in the heat after being shot at.”
“You know what just happened was not your fault. There were only two of them, but they had the advantage. We were no match for them, especially with only one rifle.” She frowned. “And since I cried out and hid, I don’t think I even count.”
“I should have been able to handle them. Two against one ain’t much of an obstacle.”
“Surely you don’t mean that.”
“I mean everything I’m saying. I know better. I know I didn’t respond to any of what’s happened like I should.” His voice was harsh.
“Even though I hate to admit it, if you weren’t here, I would be hopelessly lost.”
“You’re not giving yourself enough credit. I have no doubt that you’d find your way home without a problem.” He winked. “You’d do your horse proud, for sure.”
Her horse. Even after everything that happened, he could still manage to make her smile.
“That’s quite a compliment, Thomas.”
“You watch out, Miss Tracey. Before my year with you is over, I’m liable to say all kinds of sweet things to you. You might even become used to it.”
An Uncommon Protector Page 15