The Wildes of Wyoming: Chance

by Ruth Langan

  “Come on, cowboy.” Collier’s voice was high-pitched with rage. “Nothing I like better than a good brawl. We’ll see how handsome you look when I’m through with you.” His fist exploded against Chance’s jaw.

  Chance shook his head to dispel the shower of stars that clouded his vision. Before he had time to recover Collier brought both fists into his midsection, doubling him over. Then for good measure, Collier kicked him savagely in the chest, sending him backward into the snow.

  Chance struggled to his knees and heard the click of the safety as Collier snatched up the pistol and pressed it against his temple.

  “Say bye-bye, cowboy.” Collier was laughing as his finger caressed the trigger.

  Chance felt the adrenaline pumping as he stared into Collier’s eyes and saw the glint of madness. In one quick motion he brought his head up under Collier’s jaw, and heard the sound of bone grinding against bone. A gunshot from Collier’s gun echoed and re-echoed across the frozen silence.

  Unsure whether the bullet had gone wild or had hit Chance, Maggie let out a scream. Her heart nearly stopped as she watched the two men facing each other for what seemed an eternity.

  Then, as if in slow motion, Collier dropped the gun and clutched his hands to his broken jaw.

  “Sorry you missed, Collier. You won’t get a second chance. This is for Maggie.” Chance’s fist connected with Collier’s nose, sending a fountain of blood pouring down his shirtfront, as he slumped to his knees.

  “And this one’s for me.” Chance hit him again, sending him sprawling face-down in the snow.

  He reached into Collier’s pocket and retrieved the key to the handcuffs, then crossed to Maggie and released her.

  Her legs seemed unable to support her. Her hand gripped the trunk of the tree as she sank to her knees.

  “Hold on, sweetheart. One minute more. I’ll just put these on Collier for good measure.”

  As Chance turned away, he found himself staring down the barrel of his own rifle. He tasted the cold, metallic bite of fear in the back of his throat. Not fear for himself, but fear for Maggie. He’d failed her. After all this, he’d made a fatal mistake. He hadn’t counted on Collier’s determination.

  Collier, swaying slightly as blood streamed down his face, gave an evil laugh as he took careful aim and pressed his finger to the trigger.

  Before he could squeeze off a shot, there was a tremendous roar of gunfire, that seemed to echo and re-echo through the frozen stillness. He stiffened, then looked beyond Chance to where Maggie stood leaning weakly against the trunk of the tree. In her hand was his pistol.

  With a look of surprise mingled with pain he dropped to the ground.

  “That one was for Eve,” Maggie said as tears ran in little rivers down her cheeks.

  The gun slipped from her fingers and she slid bonelessly to the ground.

  Chapter 15

  “Oh, Chance.” Maggie couldn’t stop shivering. “What have I done?”

  Chance wrapped his cowhide jacket around her and lifted her into his arms. “Shh. It’s over now, Maggie. It’s all over.”

  “But I’ve killed a man.”

  “Don’t think about it.” He pressed his lips to her temple and closed his eyes. He’d come so close to losing her. So close. Relief rocketed through him.

  “But you don’t understand.” Her teeth were chattering so badly, she could barely get the words out. “I’m no better than he was. I hated Ray for what he did to Eve. For what he almost did to us. And I wanted him dead. Oh, Chance. I killed him.”

  “Shh. Oh, baby. It’s all right.” He wondered if his heart would ever return to its normal rhythm. He felt as if he’d been running up a mountain for hours. And now, even when he’d reached the peak, he was afraid to stop. Afraid if he did, he’d find that it was all a dream. That she wasn’t really here, safe in his arms, and he’d have to start climbing all over again until he found her. “All I know is, you’re safe. And I’m alive because of your courage. You were so brave.”

  She shook her head. “I wasn’t brave. Just desperate.”

  “That’s good enough for me. Either way, you saved my life.”

  “And you saved mine.” She buried her lips in his throat and shivered again. “He was going to kill me. Not because of something I’d done, but just for the sake of money. If he’d given me a chance, I’d have gladly turned the restaurant over to him. Especially if it would have given my sister back to me. But it can’t.” She began weeping again. “Oh, Chance. Nothing will ever bring Eve back. Why did he have to kill Eve? Why couldn’t he have let her live?”

  “I don’t know, Maggie.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Brady Warren come barreling out of the woods and suddenly halt when he reached the clearing.

  Brady stared around with a look of complete disbelief. “I heard gunshots.”

  “Yeah.” Chance turned, keeping Maggie firmly against his chest. He wasn’t about to let go of her.

  Brady glanced at the bloody figure in the snow. “Is that guy…?”

  Chance nodded. “He’s dead. Think you can get the chopper up in this weather?”

  Brady looked dazed. “I can try. How about your truck?”

  “We’ll deal with it later. Right now, I’d like to get Maggie back to the ranch as soon as possible.”

  Brady needed no coaxing to get away from the bloody scene. As he spun away, Chance trudged through the snow behind him, keeping a firm grip on the woman in his arms.

  If he had his way, he’d never let go of her again.

  Maggie could have wept when the ranch house came into view. It occurred to her that the Double W had, in these short weeks, begun to feel like home to her.

  As soon as the chopper had landed, Chance climbed down and carried Maggie across the space that separated the landing pad from the ranch house.

  When they stepped through the door, they were greeted by a scene that was sheer bedlam.

  Ace had dropped everything to return from Colorado. He was shouting into a telephone. The pilot and crew of the medevac team sat crowded around the big open fireplace, along with two uniformed state police officers and two men in suits, as well as a reporter and a photographer from the Wyoming Report.

  Agnes Tallfeather was moving among them, handing out mugs of coffee as thick as mud. Most were set aside after a single taste.

  All conversation came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Chance and Maggie.

  Ace and Hazard came rushing toward them, then stopped short.

  “Blood?” Hazard’s eyes narrowed on Maggie. “Has she been shot?”

  “No.” Chance lowered her to the sofa. “I need some blankets.”

  Hazard snatched an afghan from the foot of the sofa and began tucking it around her. “Where’s Collier? Don’t tell me he got away.”

  Chance shook his head. “We left him out by the old trail.”

  “You did what?” Ace’s jaw dropped.

  “Don’t worry. He’s not going anywhere.” Chance knelt beside the sofa and began rubbing Maggie’s hands together between his.

  Grateful for the warmth, she closed her eyes. At once, nightmare images began playing through her mind.

  One of the uniformed officers stepped forward. “Mr. Wilde, I’m Detective Frank Hinson. The medevac team alerted us that there had been an injury as a result of a crime committed here at your ranch.”

  “That’s right.” In a few terse words Chance told him what had happened, aware that the reporter was jotting down every word. “If it weren’t for Maggie, I wouldn’t be here now. She saved my life.”

  Cody leaned over the back of the sofa to pat Maggie’s shoulder. “That’s my girl, Maggie Fuller. I knew the first time I met you that you were a tough little survivor.”

  Her eyes snapped open. “Cody. You’re alive.” Her voice caught in her throat. “Ray told me he’d killed you.” One big tear squeezed from the corner of her eye.

  Seeing it, the old man pressed a big hand to her shoulder. “Hey, now. Don’t
you worry. He gave it a good try. Lucky for me I’ve got a very hard head.”

  Chance fixed him with a look. “What’re you doing here? Why aren’t you resting on a stretcher somewhere? Aren’t the medevac doctors taking you to the hospital?”

  “They tried. I wouldn’t let them touch me.” The old cowboy grinned. “Who needs them when I’ve got Hazard? I figure if he can doctor all those cows, he can do the same for me.”

  Hazard met his brother’s look and rolled his eyes. “You know how stubborn he is. Not only would he not let the medics touch him, but he wasn’t about to let them take him back to Cheyenne without knowing whether you and Maggie were safe. I’m lucky he even let me patch him up. If I hadn’t physically restrained him, he was going to saddle up and head out after you with a string of horses.”

  “Hell, that’s how we did it in your father’s day. We didn’t worry about getting stuck in snowbanks, or having some big, fancy whirlybird brought down by a blizzard. As long as we had our horse, our rifle and a jug of brew, we could survive anything.” The old man’s eyes twinkled. “I miss those days.”

  Ace’s tone was warm with laughter. “I just bet you do.” In an aside he muttered, “The truth is, I was just about ready to join you.”

  The detective crossed the room and peered down at Maggie. “I’ll need a statement, Ms. Trainor. That is your name, isn’t it? Margaret Mary Trainor?”

  “Yes, it is.” She opened her eyes and took in a deep breath. It would seem that she was about to bounce from one problem to another, without any time to clear her mind.

  “I’m told that you’re being sought by Chicago authorities. These gentlemen,” he turned, indicating the two men in suits, “would like to ask you a few questions.”

  Chance glowered at the intruders. “Can’t this wait? Do you have any idea what she’s been through?”

  “Sorry, Mr. Wilde. We’ll be as brief as possible. But we have to do our job.”

  With a sigh of resignation, Chance sat beside Maggie and held her hand as she answered dozens of questions about the ownership and operation of the restaurant. She studied documents, examined records, identified her signature and pointed out the forgeries. Through it all, she clung to Chance’s hand, grateful for his quiet strength.

  At last, satisfied that they’d heard enough, the investigators offered their handshakes. “Thank you, Ms. Trainor. You understand that you’ll have to return with us to Chicago and give an official statement?”

  She nodded.

  “There’s something else.” The investigator shot a quick worried look at Chance’s tight, angry features before saying, “We’ll need to exhume your sister’s body in order to confirm that she did indeed die not of natural causes but at the hands of Ray Collier.”

  Maggie took a deep, painful breath. “I understand.”

  She was grateful when, a short time later, they turned their attention to Brady Warren, asking him to take them to the location of Ray Collier’s body.

  While the others were occupied, she made her way to the kitchen. She would make herself a cup of tea and pray it would dispel the cold that seemed to have settled deep into her bones.

  Chance ducked inside, out of the bitter cold. Once the snow had let up the medevac team had headed back to Cheyenne aboard their helicopter, Brady had taken the police officers to retrieve Collier’s body and examine the site and the journalist and photographer from the Wyoming Report had been delighted to be allowed to accompany them to take official photographs. Chance had no doubt the entire story would make the front page of tomorrow’s edition. He gave a sigh of resignation. Though he knew Maggie would resent the notoriety, there were more important things she had to deal with. Besides, given enough time, the press would uncover a newer, juicier scandal and this would all fade from the interest of a fickle public. Then, the only one who would remember and grieve would be Maggie.

  He stepped into the great room and glanced around. It was empty. He wasn’t surprised. He figured by now she was probably collapsed in her bed.

  When Agnes waddled in he turned. “Is Maggie asleep?”

  The old woman shook her head, sending her braids swinging. “You better take a look at her. I don’t like the way she looks.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s just not acting right. See for yourself.”

  Chance made his way down the hall. When he opened the kitchen door, he stared around in surprise.

  The rich fragrance of cinnamon rolls baking in the oven filled the room. Mugs of hot chocolate stood in a neat row on the counter, their steam rising to add to the perfume.

  Maggie, still wearing the damp, bloody clothes, was scrubbing the blackened pot that had held the sauce for the steaks. Not just scrubbing it, but attacking it with a vengeance.

  “Maggie.”

  She made no response.

  “Maggie. Agnes said you were in here. What are you doing?”

  She seemed not to hear him.

  He stepped closer. “Maggie. What the hell are you doing?”

  She didn’t even pause in her work, but kept scrubbing, even though her knuckles were raw and bloody.

  “Maggie.” He crossed to her and wrapped his arms around her, forcibly stilling her movements. “Oh, baby. What’s wrong?”

  “Wrong? Nothing’s wrong.” She shook off his hands and returned to her work. “I just have to clean up this mess.”

  “Let it go, Maggie.”

  “There’s nothing to let go. I simply can’t stand looking at this mess. Don’t worry. I’ll have it cleaned up in no time.”

  “And the food?”

  She glanced idly at the cinnamon rolls and hot chocolate, as if seeing them for the first time. Her eyes seemed a little too bright. And her voice, when she spoke, was far too controlled. “Comfort food. Those men have been out in the cold. They’ll need something to warm them.”

  “And what about you?”

  “I’m fine.” She turned away and continued her task. “I’m just fine.”

  “Yes, you are.” He wrapped his arms around her again, and this time he pressed his lips to her temple. “You’re the finest woman I’ve ever known, Maggie. But your work’s over for the day.”

  “No. I have to…”

  “Don’t argue.” He scooped her into his arms and headed toward her room.

  “But the work…”

  He made no reply.

  In the bathroom he turned on the shower, then undressed her and held her under the warm spray. He shampooed her hair, then washed away all the blood that had seeped through her shirt. And as he gently dried her, he saw the bruises around her wrist and felt the bitter bile of fury. With an effort, he was able to swal low it back. Right now, Maggie didn’t need any display of temper. What she needed was tenderness. And so he tenderly wrapped her in a bath sheet, and carried her to bed, settling her under a warm down quilt. Then he lay beside her and gathered her into his arms.

  As if in a trance she whispered, “They’re going to exhume Eve’s body.”

  “I know.” He stroked her back, her hair, and felt the way she held herself, stiff and rigid.

  “But they…” she struggled to get the words out. It was important that she keep talking. To hold all the strange, terrifying feelings at bay. “They said they believe me. They had proof that Ray had preyed on other women. And that this young socialite would have been his next victim, if I hadn’t…” She stopped. Swallowed.

  “Let it out, Maggie.” Chance pressed his mouth to her forehead. “Let it all out.”

  “I can’t. I’m afraid if I do…” She took a deep breath and felt the tears burning the back of her throat. “Oh, Chance. What did I do?”

  “You did what you had to, in order to survive.”

  “But I killed him. That makes me no better than him.”

  “It isn’t the same, Maggie. If you hadn’t shot him, he’d have killed us both. I don’t know about you, but I’m so glad to be here beside you. Warm and safe.”

  “
Warm and safe.” She repeated the words, needing the reassurance. “We are, aren’t we? Warm and safe.” She touched a hand to his face, as though seeing him for the first time. “You’re really here, aren’t you, Chance?”

  “I’m here, Maggie. I’m not leaving you. I’m never leaving you.”

  In the end, it was the tenderness that was her undo ing. Overwhelmed by it, she gave in to the feelings of shock, of grief, of unbelievable sadness. And finally, after holding it all inside for so long, she wept bitter, cleansing tears, until there were none left.

  “What do you mean, Maggie’s leaving?” The following morning Ace stood in the doorway of the kitchen.

  It looked as it always did. Glasses of fresh juice lined up on the gleaming countertop. A pot of freshly ground, freshly brewed coffee filling the room with the most amazing fragrance. But Maggie wasn’t standing at the stove, making something wonderful for their breakfast. The day had gone suddenly flat.

  “She has to go back to Chicago and make an official police report on Ray, so she can be done with that chapter of her life.”

  “And then?” Hazard stood beside Ace, voicing the question that troubled all of them.

  Both brothers saw the way Chance’s jaw tightened.

  “I don’t know. Maggie doesn’t want to commit to anything until she can put the past behind her. My guess is, without Collier around, her restaurant will prove to be a success.”

  “You mean, you think she’ll stay in Chicago? You don’t think she’ll come back here?”

  Chance’s tone was bleak. “I don’t know what to think.”

  He’d been up since dawn, pacing. And watching her sleep.

  “Where does that leave us?” Ace blurted.

  “Us?”

  At Chance’s cold look, he tucked his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “It was pretty easy to get ac customed to all that good food. I don’t think I could go back to Cody’s chili or Hazard’s overcooked burgers. And especially not to Agnes’s coffee.”