The Colton Bodyguard

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The Colton Bodyguard Page 18

by Carla Cassidy


  Tension raced through him as he left his room and stood outside Greta’s closed door. He raised one hand and knocked loudly.

  “Yes?”

  The sweetly familiar voice cast a rush of relief through him and he stuck the gun in the back of his jeans waistband. He cracked open the door to see her in bed. She stretched with her arms overhead, revealing the familiar purple nightshirt she usually wore to bed.

  “Hey, you, it’s after nine. I figured I’d better check in on you. It’s unusual for you to sleep so late,” he said.

  She gave him a sleepy smile and curled back into the sheets. “I don’t know why but I’m just so tired this morning.”

  “I thought you were going to get up early and help your mother.”

  “I was, but I figured she’d need my help closer to the time of everyone arriving. I just feel like lazing in bed for a little while longer.”

  “Then I won’t bother you,” he replied. “Rest up—you deserve it—and I’ll see you later.” He closed the door and returned to his room.

  He sank down on the edge of his bed and waited for the burst of adrenaline that had momentarily suffused him to pass. She was safe.

  She was just tired and he couldn’t blame her after all the tension, the sense of imminent danger she’d lived with over the past three weeks.

  Besides, she was right. Abra didn’t really need her help right now. Later there would be last-minute things to attend to where Greta could help her mother.

  He stood and placed the gun in the top drawer in the nightstand, thankful that, at least for today, he wouldn’t have to touch it again.

  Today Greta would be surrounded by family members and would enjoy the thankfulness of being alive to enjoy a holiday filled with laughter and love.

  Chapter 14

  The box was dark.

  Greta had never been afraid of the dark before, but this darkness was like death, so deep and so profound and seemingly impossible to escape.

  Thankfully, after several attempts, she had managed to spit out the nasty gag Alice had shoved in her mouth and draw in deep breaths of air.

  She pounded on the top and sides of the coffin-like box, screaming for help. But she knew nobody ever ventured near her barn unless she needed one of the ranch hands to add more hay bales or feed.

  Besides, all of the ranch hands wouldn’t be on the property today. By now their morning chores would be done and most of them would have left the ranch to spend the holiday with family. Her father had always been generous in allowing time off for special days as long as there were enough volunteers to take care of the daily chores.

  Even knowing this, she continued to kick and punch and scream until she was gasping for breath. As she paused, she suddenly realized that her air source was limited. The top of the box fit perfectly, pounded down tightly to impede any flow of additional oxygen.

  Eventually, she would suffocate, and with this horrifying thought in mind she remained motionless and began to take shallow breaths as she tried to think of how to get out of this deadly mess.

  It was her own fault she was here, she thought bitterly. She’d been a fool to venture out on her own. But she hadn’t been quite ready to confront Tyler about what she’d read the night before. She’d just wanted a few minutes to clear her head. The need for those minutes alone had been her complete undoing.

  She had known that Alice was just waiting for an opportunity, and Greta had given her a perfect one. As she ran her fingers along the side of the wood that enclosed her, she marveled at the planning that had been done for this.

  Alice would have had to buy or build the box and then sneak it into the back of the barn. It felt as if it would be heavy, but apparently, the strength of madness had made it possible for her to do what she wanted.

  And now Alice was probably eating breakfast with the family, wearing some of Greta’s clothes and living the life she’d dreamed of since learning of Greta’s existence.

  Meanwhile, Greta was in a death box, smelling the filth of Alice’s sweatshirt as she slowly suffocated.

  Could Alice pull off the impersonation? Greta thought it just might be possible despite what she’d said to Alice. Alice had been around the ranch for months, watching and listening and learning how to be Greta.

  Tears coursed down her face and it was impossible for her to raise a hand to wipe them away. Certainly Alice probably had enough information to fool not only her family but Tyler, as well.

  Tyler. He would nuzzle Alice’s neck with his sweet lips, give her the unexpected kisses that had stirred Greta so deeply. At the moment Greta didn’t care if she’d been Tyler’s revenge against his brother or not. All she cared about was the love for him that filled her heart, a love that would die with her in this pine box.

  Her knife!

  Was it possible that she could reach down into her boot and maneuver it to make air holes? She reached her arm down as far as possible and tried to pull her leg up enough that she could grasp the knife in her boot.

  The first time she tried, her knee banged into the top of the box, and while she managed to touch the knife’s handle, she couldn’t grab hold of it. She tried a second time with the same result.

  Frustration forced her to relax back and she began to cry once again. She couldn’t reach it. The box was too tight. It was just too hard. Her fate was sealed and there was nothing she could do about it.

  Stop it. Stop it right now, a little voice in the back of her brain commanded. She had never been a crybaby and now definitely wasn’t the time to turn into one. Besides, crying took up too much energy and too much of the air in the box.

  She’d faced huge angry beasts and tamed them into gentle riding horses. She’d become one of the most respected horse trainers in the four-state area by the sheer force of her will to succeed.

  She’d grown up with five rough-and-tumble older brothers who had challenged her every day of her young life. She wasn’t a quitter. She never had been and wasn’t going to turn into one now.

  She needed her knife and she had to keep trying to get it, no matter what body contortions she had to go through given the tight enclosure surrounding her.

  She finally managed to grasp the knife on her fifth try. By then she was exhausted. She remained unmoving for several long minutes, once again drawing in slow, shallow breaths as she clutched on tightly to the precious knife.

  Finally, she pushed the button that would extend the blade and began to hit it against the wood next to her right thigh.

  Thud.

  Thud.

  With each hit of the knife it became more difficult to pull the blade back out. The wood was thick but finally she broke through. A pinprick of light appeared. She carefully moved the knife from one hand to the other and began the process all over again.

  She made three tiny holes before exhaustion forced her to stop. Once again she relaxed and breathed, her hand clasped tightly around the knife.

  She knew with certainty nobody would be coming into the barn today. She’d told Tyler the night before she wasn’t going to work with Sugar today.

  Three tiny holes.

  Would that give her enough extra air to survive until somebody eventually came out to the barn? What if Alice made some excuse not to work with Sugar tomorrow? Would Tyler buy whatever excuse she came up with?

  Even if they came into the barn tomorrow, Tyler wouldn’t see the pine box behind the hay bales in the darkest corner of the barn.

  Three little holes.

  She knew in her heart they weren’t enough. She’d run out of air long before tomorrow. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed as the true horror overwhelmed her. She was going to die today and nobody would even know she was missing.

  * * *

  Greta finally made an appearance downstairs just after noon. Tyler was surprised both by how long she’d remained in her room and by the dress she’d chosen to wear for the holiday gathering.

  He was seated in the family room playing a game on his cell phone
when she appeared, a vision in pink ruffles and dramatic high heels.

  “Wow,” he said as he rose from the sofa.

  “Wow what?” she replied.

  “Wow you. You look positively ravishing,” he exclaimed, somehow shocked by her overdressed appearance, but he assumed she’d pulled out all the stops to please her mother on this special day.

  “Thank you,” she replied. “And you know I love it when you wear blue. It shows off those beautiful eyes of yours.”

  After breakfast Tyler had changed into a pair of black dress slacks and a light blue dress shirt. “You never told me you like me in blue before.”

  She smiled. “I guess I just thought it to myself.” She walked past him, trailing behind her familiar scent. “I’d better find Mother and see what I can do to help. I lazed in bed for so long and then took a sinfully long bubble bath. Do you know where she is?”

  “I think she’s in the basement. Greta, are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Of course—why wouldn’t I be?” She waved a hand. “I don’t want to think or talk about negative things today. It’s a day to give thanks and I refuse for my good mood to be doused by bad topics of conversation.”

  “Gotcha,” he replied. He watched as she headed for the basement stairs, a pink concoction of cheer. Good. He was glad that she intended to entertain only positive thoughts for the day. He planned to do the exact same thing.

  He thought about following her downstairs but decided mother and daughter could use some bonding time together without his presence.

  He sank back down on the sofa in the family room and pulled out his cell phone and once again began to play a game. Normally, he wasn’t much into phone games, but he had one that he’d downloaded and at the moment had nothing else to do to occupy his time.

  When he’d wandered into the kitchen earlier, he’d asked if there was anything he could do to help, but both Edith and Maria had shooed him right out.

  Now the air in the house smelled of cooking heaven, with a scent of a variety of foods all mingling together to keep his stomach growling in anticipation.

  He’d been downstairs once to the basement, where Abra had been overseeing the setting of the tableware on white tablecloths. Each table sported a centerpiece of orange and gold flowers, along with candles the color of red maple leaves.

  Abra appeared to be calm and in her element as she moved candles an inch one way or the other on one table and then straightened a centerpiece on the other table.

  They had chatted for a bit and then Tyler had gone back upstairs. He knew eventually, Big J or maybe Brett would appear, ready for the festivities to begin.

  The next time he glanced at his watch, it was after one. He figured the rest of the family would probably arrive around two since the meal was to be served at three.

  He was looking forward to getting to know Eric and his wife better. He’d met them only the one time they’d come for dinner and so had had only general first impressions of the trauma surgeon and Kara. Besides, he owed Kara a big thank-you for the dinner he and Greta had shared in her restaurant.

  Greta.

  She’d looked like cotton candy in her pink dress and he’d immediately wanted to taste her. He hoped tonight she would join him in his room. He wanted to hold her in his arms once again, taste the sweet heat of her lips and make love to her until dawn.

  Would his hunger for her ever be sated? He couldn’t imagine a day or a night that he wouldn’t want her. Once again he was thankful that for at least today he didn’t have to worry about her safety. There would be no trips to the corral, no reason to leave the house.

  He looked up from his phone as Brett came into the room. He was dressed in a pair of dark blue dress slacks and a beige dress shirt.

  “Ready for the onslaught?” he asked as he sat in the chair opposite Tyler.

  “Ready. I’m glad to see you aren’t wearing a tie. I wasn’t sure how formal everyone would be.”

  “The last time I wore a tie was at my wedding and I told Hannah then not to expect to see me in one again until my funeral,” Brett replied with a grin. “Did Greta finally get out of bed?”

  “Finally. She’s downstairs helping your mother with last-minute details, although when I went down to the basement earlier, it looked like Abra had everything under control.”

  “It’s great to see Mother finally being strong enough to really be the matriarch of the family.” His gaze grew distant. “As kids we hungered for her to really be a mom, but it was all too much for her. It’s nice to share an adult relationship with her now and realize that she loved us all—she was just fragile. But each day that passes, I see her getting stronger and it’s a welcome sight.”

  “Cherish every minute of it,” Tyler said, thinking of his own parents’ early demise. “You never know what unexpected tragedy could change things in the blink of an eye.”

  “At least this afternoon the only thing we have to worry about is eating too much turkey and stuffing and making ourselves sick.”

  “Amen to that,” Tyler agreed.

  Big J entered the room, and as usual, the talk turned to ranch business. Tyler asked questions about everything from the feed they used for the cattle to the ordeal of getting the cattle to slaughter.

  “You keep asking questions and before long we’ll turn you into a cattleman instead of a suit-wearing muckety-muck,” Brett joked.

  Tyler laughed. “I’m afraid I’m destined to be a suit-wearing muckety-muck, but I’ve got enough land that I wouldn’t mind keeping a few head of cattle, as well. That way I’d have the best of both worlds.”

  The conversation was interrupted as Hannah came into the room, carrying baby Alex in an infant seat. “So is the little man going to enjoy dining with the grown-ups today?” Tyler asked.

  “Absolutely. I don’t want him to miss his very first Colton Thanksgiving,” she said.

  “It’s your first Colton Thanksgiving, too,” Brett reminded her. “In fact, it’s the first for all of our wives.”

  Big J took the infant holder and held it in his lap, talking softly to the baby, who stared at him as if entranced. Big J finally glanced up at Tyler and grinned.

  “Raising kids is tough work, but having grandkids is nothing but joy,” he said.

  “That’s because you get to give them back to their parents when you’re finished with them or if they start to get fussy,” Brett said drily and then laughed as his father held out the infant carrier to him.

  Greta appeared in the room. “There’s my darling girl,” Big J said.

  “If you want to get a little baby love, you better hurry,” Brett said. “He’s got that look of a long winter’s nap coming on.”

  “That’s okay. Let him sleep,” Greta said as she sat on the sofa next to Tyler.

  Tyler looked at her in surprise. “I’ve never known you to pass up a little baby loving.”

  “Normally, I wouldn’t, but I also don’t want to keep him awake from his nap and have him crabby during dinner,” she replied easily. “And the basement looks absolutely beautiful. There isn’t a fork or spoon out of place and Mother has gone upstairs to change her clothes.”

  “You definitely dolled up for the day,” Brett observed as he handed the baby to Hannah.

  Greta shrugged. “It’s a special day and I knew it would please Mother. Besides, sometimes a girl just wants to be girlie.”

  “All I know is that she looks positively gorgeous,” Tyler replied. He smiled at her and she returned his smile with a hint of heat in her eyes that definitely fired through him.

  Their last conversations had been so filled with darkness and the thought of potential disaster that it was a refreshing change to see her so upbeat and a bit flirty.

  Maybe tonight she would come to him, come to his bed and make it a true holiday to remember. His blood heated in anticipation.

  The arrival of Jack’s family was announced by Seth running in and giving his grandfather, then Brett and finally Tyler each a fist
bump. “I’m going to eat all the mashed taters today,” he proclaimed.

  “You’re going to have to fight me, partner. Thumb fight,” Brett announced.

  Seth raced over to him and grabbed his hand as Jack and Tracy came into the room. Jack rolled his eyes. “Let me guess—you’re fighting over either the mashed potatoes or the apple pie.”

  “Taters,” Seth quipped as he moved his little thumb in a desperate effort not to be captured by his uncle’s much bigger thumb.

  Tracy and Hannah immediately began talking about pregnancy and Jack mentioned that Tracy had refused to make him breakfast that morning, knowing that he would overeat this afternoon.

  Greta was quiet beside him and he shot her a quick glance. She watched her family with a soft smile curving her lips.

  “This is nice,” he said as he leaned over to her.

  “Yes, it’s very nice,” she replied.

  “But you’re very quiet.”

  She released a contented sigh. “I’m just taking it all in.”

  He reached over and took one of her hands for a moment, hoping she wasn’t thinking that this might be her last Thanksgiving for the rest of her life. He squeezed her hand and then released it.

  By the time Daniel and Megan, Eric and Kara, and Ryan and Susie arrived, there was plenty to take in. The room was filled with Coltons and the conversation whirled fast and furious.

  Abra joined the fracas, clad in an emerald green dress that enhanced her attractive features and still-lovely figure. Big J jumped up from his chair, his eyes glowing with love. “You look beautiful, darlin’,” he said.

  She smiled. “Thank you, and sit down. I’ll just perch here on the end of the sofa next to Tyler.” She sat down next to him and then proceeded to smile as the talk turned to old times and inside jokes and ribbing of one person or another that resulted in laughter.

  This was the way family should be, Tyler thought as he felt the love that imbued the air. This was what he’d never had, would never have, with his own parents or Mark.

  He was vaguely surprised by Greta’s continued quietness. Although she appeared at ease, he wondered if she’d managed to really put away her troubles and push the thought of Alice and danger out of her mind completely.

 

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