Genuine Cowboy

by Joanna Wayne

  “I didn’t tell her to have him.”

  “But she did, and he needs her. You’ve done enough damage to her, Orson. You don’t need to kill her.”

  “Are you forgetting what she did to Mother?”

  “Mother took her own life. That was not Eve Worthington’s doing.”

  “Mother died because that snooty, pseudo-psychiatrist caused me to be denied early parole. Now she has to pay.”

  “Please don’t kill her, Orson. Just this once, have a little sympathy for someone besides yourself.”

  “You sound so sweet and caring. Too bad that doesn’t work on me. I’ll kill her and leave her for Troy Ledger to find at his favorite little fishing hole. He can fish her right out of the river.”

  “Then I’m through helping and covering for you, Orson. Don’t come to me for anything ever again.”

  “Don’t be foolish. Drop the money off exactly as I explained to you. Mistakes will not be tolerated.”

  “I won’t do it, Orson, not if you kill that woman.”

  “I think you will.” He reached over and yanked the gag out of Nick’s mouth. “Say hello to your mother, Nick. She’s having a very bad day at work.”

  THE GUARDS AT THE GATE were a nice touch. Perhaps Orson had underestimated Troy Ledger. But he wasn’t particularly disturbed by the unexpected militia. He appreciated modifications that challenged his intellect.

  He’d acquired and studied an online survey of the ranch that Ledger’s in-laws had ordered several years back. As a result, Orson knew exactly where Dowman River dissected Ledger’s spread and created the fishing hole Ledger had gone on about with the other fishermen types in prison.

  And if Orson remembered correctly, if he turned onto Willow Creek Ranch just south of the Dowman-Lagoste Bridge, he could drive all the way to the ranch house without having to cross Willow Creek.

  He made the turn and slowed, getting his bearings. A black Honda came up behind him and rode his tail. Not that it could legally pass him on this curving road. Orson checked out the driver in the rearview mirror.

  A female, and on a practically deserted country road. She looked familiar. When she put on her blinker to pass, Orson pressed the accelerator. Once they hit the next curve, he slowed again.

  She was familiar all right. That was Eve Worthington. He smiled and slapped the back of the seat. “Too bad you can’t see what we’re about to do, Nick. This is going to be fun.”

  EVE HONKED AT THE IDIOT in front of her and raised an angry fist. He knew she wanted to pass him, but every time she got the chance, he’d speed up.

  Finally, they hit a straight section of blacktop and he let her go around him. She pushed the speed limit, trying to make up for time she’d lost fooling around with that imbecile.

  He sped up as well. He was riding her tail, too close for comfort. She slowed for him to pass her. Being late to the Baptist church in Mustang Run was better than getting killed in the car.

  The driver came up even with her and then bumped her from the side. Her car shimmied but stayed on the pavement. Irritation turned to apprehension. This guy was playing dangerous.

  He sideswiped her again, this time so hard the car skidded onto the shoulder. She guided the vehicle back onto the road, then slowed to a near stop, praying he’d just drive off and cease his deadly intimidation.

  There was a bridge just ahead, and if he ran her off the road there, she’d be battered by the iron side rail. Both cars might plunge into Dowman River. One or both of them could get killed.

  But the driver didn’t wait for the bridge. He hammered his car into her back fender, knocking her sideways. She struggled to keep control of the car, but it skidded across the narrow road and went flying down an embankment.

  When it finally came to rest, her car was practically lying on its right side. Her head seem to be spinning in dizzying circles. When she could finally focus, she got her first good look at the man who’d run her off the road.

  Orson Bastion was only steps away.

  Somehow Eve managed to unbuckle the seat belt and get the driver’s side door open. She took off running for the woods, but before she made it out of the clearing, Orson’s strong hands grabbed her from behind and threw her to the ground.

  He planted his foot on her neck and pointed a pistol at her head.

  “Take it easy and I won’t kill you. Not here, anyway, and certainly not with the pleasant, quick death a bullet to the brain would provide.

  “I have something much more torturous in mind for you. And then I will leave your body for Troy to find. Now, won’t that be an exciting conclusion to the drama in our minds?”

  SEAN HAD WANDERED all through the house twice, looking for Eve. He’d found Collette and Joey playing checkers in one of the spare bedrooms. Neither had seen Eve.

  Sean stopped when he got to his own bedroom and stuck his head inside. No sign of Eve, but there was an unopened envelope on the floor, addressed to him. He picked it up and turned it over in his hand a few times, as if he could figure out who it was from by feel.

  Finally, he slipped his thumb beneath the seal and tore the envelope open. He checked out the name at the bottom first.

  Eve.

  Apprehension sent him on yet another adrenaline high. There was no way a note from Eve could be good, especially when she was nowhere to be found.

  Sean dropped to the side of the bed and read every word—twice—trying to make sense of why Eve would try a fool stunt like this.

  Why go to Conner for protection when Sean was doing everything he knew to do to keep her safe? He had security guards at the gate, security outside the house, plus the three Ledger men.

  Feeling positively betrayed, he took the note to Troy. “You know her,” he said, once Troy had skimmed the note. “What do you make of this?”

  “It’s pretty clear that what she’s asking is for you to take care of Joey while she goes to Dallas.”

  “I offer protection and she chooses the police. If you were me, what would you do in my situation?”

  “I’d ask Dylan and me to stay here and protect Joey and Collette, while I went to Dallas and made sure Orson did not get his hands on my woman.”

  Sean was thinking the exact thing, not that Eve was acting much like she was his woman.

  Not that he’d ever asked her to be.

  Troy’s cell phone jangled.

  “Maybe that’s Eve calling to say she’s come to her senses,” Sean said.

  Troy took the call and shifted it to speakerphone.

  “Hello.”

  “This is Detective Reagan Conner. Eve Worthington was supposed to meet a Texas Ranger at the Baptist Church in Mustang Run about ten minutes ago. She never showed up. I was wondering if you knew anything about that.”

  “Maybe she’s changed her mind and is heading back here,” Sean said, responding for Troy.

  “That could be, but we received a phone call from an anonymous tipster a few minutes ago. She said that Orson was either at or heading to the Willow Creek Ranch right now. She said he plans to kill Eve and leave her body at Troy Ledger’s favorite fishing hole.”

  Sean uttered a stream of curses.

  “We’re on it,” Troy said. “How about sending that ranger down to the Dowman-Lagoste Bridge. And tell him to be on the lookout for Orson Bastion.”

  Troy killed the connection.

  “The only fishing hole of mine that Bastion could possibly know about is the one just south of the bridge,” Troy said.

  “I know right where that is. Call Dylan. Tell him I may need backup. You and the guards stay here with Joey and Collette, in case Bastion doubles back here.”

  Sean raced out the back door without waiting for agreement. He could cover the distance a lot faster by horseback than by winding roads. And there was no time to waste.

  EVE WATCHED ORSON’S MOVEMENTS, though she could do nothing to alter them. She was tied to a downed tree trunk with only her feet and hands free. He was busily tying lengths of rope aroun
d her ankles.

  “Have you ever watched someone drown, Eve? It’s a mesmerizing sight. They gasp for breath and fling their arms as if they’ve just jumped off a building and are trying to fly. Then everything just goes limp. They exhale bubbles like bizarre-shaped fish.”

  “You drowned that boy when you were twelve, didn’t you, Orson? You killed him just to watch him die.”

  “My, you do surprise me. I’m sure you didn’t discover that when you were digging around in my head. You were never good at that, you know.”

  “I learned enough about you to recognize that you’re a psychopath.” She had to keep him talking. The longer he talked the longer she’d stay alive, and the better her chances to be rescued, though Sean would never come looking for her after reading that note.

  Still, she needed to keep Orson talking.

  “You overdosed your girlfriend, too, didn’t you? How did that go? Did you persuade her to take the drugs on her own, or did you just crush the pills and shoot them directly into her veins?”

  Orson removed some three-holed bricks from a canvas bag and laid them at his feet. Then he picked up one and began to weave the rope that bound her right foot through the holes.

  “I administered them through the veins. She was hardly worth persuasion. She’d slept with half my friends and then swore to me that she hadn’t.”

  He picked up the next brick and began the rope weaving again. “That boy you asked about deserved to drown, too. He called my mother a whore.”

  “Was she?”

  “Don’t talk about my mother. You killed her. Isn’t that enough?”

  “Your mother committed suicide.”

  “Because you lied to keep me in jail forever. You had no idea what I was capable of. You’re the reason Brock had to die, too.”

  “But now you’re going to kill my son’s mother. Isn’t that just as wrong?”

  “You should have thought about that before you ruined my life.”

  He held up one of her feet. The three bricks he’d weaved into the rope made the foot feel as if it was carved from granite.

  “Time to go sleep with the fishes. And then your buddy Troy Ledger can come and catch you one day.” He chuckled as he bound her wrists tightly and then untied her from the log. Circling a burly arm beneath her shoulders, he dragged her toward the water.

  “Don’t do this, Orson. Let me go free and I’ll tell the parole board that I was wrong. I’ll tell them anything you want.”

  “It’s rather late for that. I no longer care what the parole board does, and I never will again. If I went back to prison now, they’d make sure that I died there. But it doesn’t matter. I won’t be going back.”

  He shoved her into the water and the icy depth swirled around her waist and then up to her shoulders.

  “Not quite deep enough yet,” he taunted, “but don’t worry. The end will come soon enough.”

  Weighed down by the heavy bricks, her feet began to sink into the mud. A few more inches and she wouldn’t be able to keep her mouth and nose above water.

  She would die here, just the way Orson had described the other drowning—flinging her arms the way she was now, wild but unsuccessful, with her wrists bound tightly. She’d struggle to keep her head above water, but none of that would save her.

  The surface of the water reached her neck and sprayed over her chin. She thought of Sean and the way he smiled and tipped his hat. He was all man all the time. Yet he’d been so good with Joey. She’d worried that Sean wasn’t a forever kind of guy. Now it turned out her forever might be measured in minutes.

  She screamed for help at the top of her lungs.

  She didn’t want to die. She wanted to raise her son. She was all he had. She loved him so very, very much.

  Water splashed into her mouth. Her movements became frantic as she fought to keep her head above water.

  She screamed again.

  She did not want to die.

  But the mud was well over her ankles now and the thick, gooey mass just kept sucking her in.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The stallion’s hooves flew across the uneven ground and through the carpet of brown leaves and high grass. Sean urged him faster still. He’d never get over it if something terrible happened to Eve.

  He shouldn’t have let her out of his sight. He knew how fearful she was of Orson, yet how protective she was of Joey.

  A piecing scream reverberated through the trees. It was Eve. Orson must have her and be doing sickening, terrifying things to her.

  Sean would kill him if he hurt Eve. He would. He’d kill him and be as heartless about it as Orson was with his crimes.

  He urged his mount on. “Come through for me, Gunner. Come through for me this time and I promise you’ll never become glue.”

  The scream sounded again. It was closer this time. Sean knew he had to be getting close to the bridge, and the old fishing hole was only another hundred yards or so downstream from there.

  The evening was too quiet now. Sean longed for another scream, any sound to let him know that Eve was still alive.

  Something rustled in the woods to Sean’s left. He readied his rifle but kept galloping. The next sound he recognized instantly. It was the gentle lap of water against the riverbank. And just off to the north he spotted the bridge.

  He turned south, traveling along the river’s edge until he spotted a car next to the treeline. He scanned the area, his finger poised on the trigger of his firearm.

  No one was in sight. He slid from the horse’s back and led the animal toward the car, alert for anyone hiding in the trees or jumping from inside or behind the vehicle.

  Something splashed in the water, capturing all his attention. A head was bobbing frantically, barely staying above the surface. Sean dropped the reins and took off at a dead run.

  It was Eve. Fighting for her life. His heart beat wildly, slamming against his chest as he dropped his rifle and jumped into the water, boots and all.

  “Don’t waste the effort.”

  Neck deep and dripping, Sean turned to see Orson Bastion standing on the bank with a pistol pointed at Sean’s head.

  “Kill me, but not Eve,” Sean pleaded. “Let her go home and raise her son.” He was feet from her, and her frantic gasps filled him with determination. He’d die to save her. He had no choice.

  But his plea had no effect on Bastion. “Sorry. It’s goodbye cruel world for both of you.”

  Before Sean could even make a last desperate grab for Eve, the sound of gunfire thundered across the water. He steeled himself for searing pain, or worse, the sight of Eve’s beautiful face covered in blood. But it never came.

  He grabbed for Eve, slipping his arm under her chin so that he could keep her from sliding beneath the water. “I’ve got you,” he told her. Then he looked back toward the shore for Orson. He hadn’t been prepared for the scene in front of him.

  Orson was lying on the ground and Troy was standing over him, gun in hand.

  “Need any help?” Troy called, not taking his eyes off the monster.

  For Sean, relief had never felt so good. He finally remembered to breathe again. “A ride home in a warm car would be nice.”

  Struggling with the weight of the bricks, he dragged Eve to the shore. She took in huge gulps of air and tried to speak, but fear and the frigid water kept her chattering. “Th-thank y-you. Sean, I—I—”

  He silenced her and carried her to the riverbank. She’d have plenty of time to thank him later. Plenty of time for him to tell her how his life had almost ended with hers.

  Troy took off his jacket and threw it over her shoulders, and then he slit the ropes that bound her wrists and ankles.

  Though she was safe now, Sean could not bring himself to let her out of his arms for even a second, but he leaned over for a glimpse at Orson. “Is he dead?”

  “Probably,” Troy replied, “but I’ll call an ambulance just in case he isn’t. And the ranger should be showing up here any second. Now you two be
st get in my car and start the heater. It’s parked just on the other side of that hill.”

  “What happed to Dylan?” Sean asked, as he made sure Eve could walk to the car. “I thought you were sending him as backup.”

  “He’s at home protecting the woman and Joey. I figured it’s a father’s privilege to come to the aid of his son.”

  He stopped and turned to look at Troy. “If you hadn’t arrived when you did, we’d both be dead.”

  “’Bout time I did something right.”

  “You’re always right in my book,” Eve murmured through chattering teeth. “But thanks again.”

  “Yeah.” Sean put one arm around Troy’s shoulder. “Thanks, Dad.”

  The emotion was genuine, and surprisingly, saying “Dad” out loud didn’t feel half bad.

  Epilogue

  The presents had all been opened. Joey was on the floor with the golden retriever puppy Troy had given him for Christmas, after making sure it was all right with Eve. Eve had never seen her son so happy.

  Collette wound the bright blue scarf around her neck. “I love this color, Eve. You give the neatest gifts. I should start taking you with me every time I go shopping for clothes.”

  “Sales start next week. And Troy, thanks for the gift certificate,” Eve said. “I’m going to go out and replace some of what I lost in the fire.”

  The celebration continued, but Eve slipped away and walked out to Helene’s garden. The pots of poinsettias Collette had scattered throughout the beds gave the whole space a festive look. It was lost on Eve.

  She hadn’t told anyone yet that this was her and Joey’s last day on the ranch. It was time to move on. Orson had survived, but he was back behind bars where he’d no doubt stay. His nephew Nick was safe and back with his mother. Eve would get her insurance settlement from the house fire soon. And she’d found a house to rent, one with a fenced yard that was big enough for Joey’s dog.

  And while Sean still seemed absolutely crazy about her, he hadn’t mentioned the possibility of a future together. She shouldn’t be surprised. He was a fabulous lover, a brave protector, a genuine horseman and cowboy. But he was not a forever kind of guy.