Angel of Mercy & Standoff at Mustang Ridge

by Heather Graham

  She glanced at the front of his jeans. Winced a little. “I’m sorry. I guess it won’t do any good to tell you again I don’t do this sort of thing.” She waved off any response he might have had to that. “But twice we’ve been together now, and twice we’ve ended up, well, here.” Sophie tipped her head to his zipper area.

  He had to do something to break this tension—she looked ready to burst into tears. “You think this qualifies as our first date?”

  She stared at him. Blinked. And then gave a dry laugh. “You don’t want to date me.” Any trace of the laugh faded just as quickly as it had come.

  He shrugged. Dating probably wasn’t the right word, but every inch of him wanted to haul her off to bed.

  She went to the fridge, far enough away from him that it should have helped. It didn’t. Because he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her.

  Sophie, on the other hand, was looking at everything but him. She reached to open the fridge, but her hand froze for a moment before it dropped to her stomach.

  “What’s wrong?” Royce hurried to her, and when he saw the stark look on her face, that took care of any remnants of what was going on behind his zipper.

  She shook her head and slapped her hand onto the fridge. “I’m just dizzy. And a little queasy.” As soon as she said that, her eyes widened, and her mouth didn’t drop open, but it was close.

  “Maybe you need to eat something?” he suggested.

  But judging from her reaction, that was the last thing she wanted. Another head shake. “What’s today’s date?”

  Hell.

  Royce didn’t want to jump to conclusions. There were plenty of reasons for a person to get dizzy and feel queasy. But it was the look of near shock on her face that had him wondering if these symptoms were caused by something else.

  “It’s the fourth,” he managed to say. And he waited, afraid to ask what he knew was on both their minds. It had been five weeks since the party at the Outlaw.

  “You said we didn’t have sex,” he reminded her.

  She leaned against the fridge and looked up at him. “I said I didn’t remember having sex with you. But—” Sophie groaned and turned away from him.

  Royce wasn’t feeling dizzy or queasy, but he was feeling things he didn’t want to feel—like some major concern. “But what?”

  The same emotions were in Sophie’s eyes when she finally looked at him again. “When I woke up in the motel room, I was naked. We both were.”

  He thought about that a moment. “You were partly dressed when I saw you.” Definitely. He would have remembered a stark-naked Sophie.

  “I put on my underwear and was putting on the rest of my clothes when you woke up.”

  Oh, man. He did not like the direction this was going in. “Uh, did you feel any different?” Stupid question. Royce tried again. “Were there any signs on your body that we’d had sex?”

  She didn’t answer. For a long time. “Yes.” Sophie squeezed her eyes shut, and she groaned even louder than Royce. “I didn’t remember that, not until just now, but I was a little tender. And please don’t make me explain that.”

  He wouldn’t. In fact, he didn’t want to be having this discussion at all, but it was necessary. “Any signs that you might be, uh, pregnant? Other than the stuff you’re feeling right now, that is.”

  She dropped the back of her head against the fridge and scrubbed her hands over her face. “A missed period. Things have been so crazy that I didn’t notice I was late.”

  Royce couldn’t dispute that, but a feeling that he thought might be panic started to crawl through him. Still, he tried not to show Sophie just how bad that panic was.

  She pulled in her breath, looked at him again. “I never slept with Travis. Never. And whether you believe me or not, I don’t have one-night stands. In fact, I haven’t been with a man in over a year.”

  Sophie winced as if she hadn’t intended to reveal that, and she pushed herself from the fridge and would have stormed off, but Royce got hold of her arm.

  “Why wouldn’t I believe you?” he asked.

  “Because I lied about being pregnant.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “And now it might not be a lie at all.”

  She shook off his grip and practically ran out of the kitchen. Royce went after her and caught up with her just as she ducked into the guest room. She would have shut the door in his face if he hadn’t caught onto it. He didn’t go to her and pull her into his arms, though that’s what he wanted to do. Despite everything he was feeling—and he was feeling a boatload of stuff—he wanted to reassure her that everything would be okay.

  All right, maybe not okay, but he really wanted to stop those damn tears spilling down her cheeks.

  “Think back to that night,” he said, hoping to get her to focus. Even though it probably wasn’t a good idea to focus on what was making her cry. Still, they needed to know the truth. “What’s the last thing you remember before waking up at the motel?”

  She sank down onto the edge of the bed and smeared away the tears with her hand. “Kissing you in your truck.”

  “Okay.” Royce tried to pick through his own memories. Yeah, that was there. French kissing, and he had his hand up her shirt and in her bra.

  “I unzipped your jeans,” Sophie mumbled.

  That particular memory came back at him hard and fast. Especially hard. And he had to fight off the effects of remembering how Sophie had slid her hands into his jeans. And over his erection.

  “Think back,” he repeated, not easily. “We were in the truck when that happened, but where was it parked? Because all I remember is, well, nothing about the location.”

  “Yes.” And there was enough heat in her voice to let him know that she remembered some of that nonlocation stuff, too.

  “We were in the side parking lot of the Lone Star Motel,” Sophie explained. “I’d already gotten a room before the party because I knew I’d be drinking, and I didn’t want to have to drive back out to the ranch.” She paused. “Plus, Travis was there at the ranch, staying the night in the guest room next to mine. I didn’t want to see him.”

  “And I’d left my truck in the motel parking lot because there weren’t any spaces at the Outlaw Bar.”

  So they were filling in bits and pieces, but the biggest piece of all was still blank.

  Or was it?

  Sophie stood slowly. “I need to get dressed so I can go into town and buy a pregnancy test.” But she paused. “No. Scratch that. I need to go somewhere other than Mustang Ridge to buy it.”

  Yeah. Because she’d be seen, and something like that probably wouldn’t stay a secret. “Half the town thinks you’re pregnant anyway,” he pointed out.

  “And the other half has heard that I said it was a lie.” She blinked back more tears. “I just don’t want to feed the gossips.”

  Well, it would do that, and besides it might be safer if they headed away from Mustang Ridge. He really needed to be working on the investigation, but Royce figured his focus would seriously be lacking in that area. Best to get this pregnancy question settled once and for all, and then he could, well, figure out the next step.

  A baby.

  Man, he hadn’t seen this one coming, and he couldn’t even wrap his mind around it.

  “Just wait for the test result before you get upset,” Sophie mumbled. And he wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or herself.

  She picked up her clothes from the dresser and motioned for him to turn around. “I know. At this point, modesty seems too little, too late.”

  Yeah, it did, but with the heat and confusion rifling through his body, it wasn’t a good idea to see Sophie strip down.

  Royce turned away, but he could still hear her dress. Could feel her, too. And maybe it was that combination of sensations that triggered something in his head.
He whirled back around.

  Not the best idea he’d ever had.

  Sophie was standing there in just her bra and panties while she reached for her jeans. She froze. “What’s wrong?”

  Nothing was wrong, but he realized that response was coming from the brainless part of him reacting to Sophie’s nearly naked body. Her bra and panties weren’t skimpy. In fact, they appeared to be cotton with no peekaboo lace, but he had memories of what was beneath that underwear.

  “You have a tattoo,” he said, though he didn’t know how he managed to speak. His mouth was suddenly bone-dry.

  She got that “deer caught in the headlights” look and nodded. When she turned, she eased down her bra strap, and he spotted the tiny flower tattoo on her shoulder blade.

  “My father and brother don’t even know it’s there,” she whispered. “It’s a relic from a college trip to Scotland, and it’s not in a place that many people can see.”

  “No,” he mumbled. But he’d known it was there, just as he’d known the sounds of pleasure she made in bed.

  Yeah. Those popped into his head, too.

  “We need to get that test done,” she insisted.

  Hurrying now, she pulled on the jeans and sweater, and Sophie sat on the edge of the bed to put on the shoes she’d borrowed from Maggie. She went to the adjoining bathroom to wash her face and groaned when she looked in the mirror. Maybe because she thought she didn’t look good without her usual makeup and perfectly styled hair.

  She looked good, Royce silently argued.

  Damn good.

  That thought collided with the reminder of why she was rushing to leave. The test. And the possible pregnancy that might or might not be a lie. Later, Royce was sure he’d have to deal with that. One way or another. But he forced everything out of his head except making this trip. He went back to the kitchen to close down his laptop, and he grabbed his coat and keys. However, before Sophie and he could make it out the door, his house phone rang. Royce hurried to answer it, hoping it wasn’t trouble.

  Or his father.

  He didn’t want to answer questions about where Sophie and he were going.

  “It’s me, Tommy,” the ranch hand said. “We got a problem.”

  The young man sounded frantic and out of breath, and Royce was a hundred percent sure that this was not going to be good news.

  “I got word from one of the hands who was putting out hay in the back pasture,” Tommy continued. “Two men just came over the fence. And, Royce, they’re carrying guns.”

  9

  Sophie waited by the front door for Royce to finish his call, but she stepped back when she saw the stark expression on his face.

  “There’s been a change of plans.” Royce threw open the cupboard over the fridge and took out a handgun and some ammo. “There are two armed men on the property, and they’re headed this way.”

  Her breath vanished, and Sophie couldn’t even utter the Oh, God that started racing through her head.

  Royce put the gun he’d retrieved in her hand and took out another one from the wall unit in the living room. He didn’t waste any time, and Sophie was glad he caught hold of her to get her moving, because her feet seemed anchored in place.

  He took her through his bedroom and into the bathroom at the back of the house, and Royce put her in the tiled shower stall.

  “How close are they?” she asked, and even though her hands were trembling, Sophie got the gun ready just in case she had to fire.

  “They crossed the back fence about five minutes ago.” He hurried to the sole window in the room and shoved back the edge of the curtain. “That puts them about a half mile away from the house.”

  Not far at all. Just minutes for someone determined to get to them. And she figured these two were determined if they’d chosen to trespass on a ranch in broad daylight. Sophie could see the pasture and one of the barns, but she didn’t see anyone, including ranch hands or gunmen.

  “Will your hands try to shoot them?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” And that’s all Royce said for several seconds. “Tommy’s trying to get into position to stop them, but he might not have an easy shot. The two aren’t making a beeline across the pasture. They’re staying along the fence line where there are a lot of trees they can use for cover.”

  “Two of them,” she repeated. “Whoever’s behind this hired someone else to replace the dead gunman.”

  Royce made a sound of agreement and glanced at her from over his shoulder. “There might be more than two.”

  That caused her heart to slam against her chest, and even though she already had a death grip on the gun, Sophie’s fingers clamped harder around it.

  “I can’t call the deputy,” Royce said. “It’d leave the sheriff’s office unmanned. But the ranch hands are all armed and are good shots.”

  Royce’s cell rang, and without taking his attention from the window, he yanked out the phone, placed it on the sill and put the call on Speaker. Probably to free up his hands in case of attack.

  “Royce, I lost them,” she heard the man say. Tommy, no doubt. “They went back over the fence by the west barn and disappeared into the woods.”

  Royce mumbled some profanity. “Come back closer to the houses. You said you’ve warned my father?”

  “Chet knows. I told him to stay inside like you said, but I doubt he’ll listen.”

  “He won’t listen,” Royce verified. “Just watch out for him because he’ll be out there somewhere.”

  Royce punched the button to end the call, shoved the phone back into his pocket and grabbed her hand again. “I need to be at the west side of the house, to keep watch and back up Tommy. And I don’t want to leave you in here alone. Not with the window so close to the shower.”

  Sophie couldn’t agree fast enough. She definitely didn’t want to be alone, and besides she might be able to provide some backup, too. She wasn’t a marksman by any means, but she had fired a gun before on one of the visits to the ranch when she was a teenager.

  Shutting the bathroom door, Royce led her back into his bedroom and positioned her on the side of the dresser before he hurried to the window. He pulled up the blinds and stood to the side so he could look out.

  “Stay down,” Royce warned her.

  She did. Sophie could no longer see the outside, but she could see Royce, and if he spotted the men, she’d be able to tell from his body language.

  The seconds crawled, but her thoughts didn’t. They were racing through her head. She wanted to catch these men and demand to know if it was indeed Travis behind all of this. It was sickening to know that someone wanted to harm Royce and her.

  And for what reason?

  It certainly seemed an extreme reaction for a man scorned, but then Travis was often an extreme person. A dangerous one, too, she added. Maybe the scorned feelings had mixed with his need for revenge for her encounter with Royce and it had brought them to this. Now it wasn’t just Royce and her. Chet and the ranch hands were in the middle of this.

  Even though Sophie had braced herself for an attack, the sound still sent her heart to her knees.

  A gunshot.

  It was deafening. And that caused her breath to gust because the shot had been fired very close to the house.

  Royce didn’t get down or duck out of sight. He threw open the window and pushed out the screen. She started to yell for him to get down, but she couldn’t. If the gunmen didn’t already see Royce, then her voice might give away their position in the house.

  There was another shot.

  Then another.

  Both were thick blasts that seemed to shake the entire house. They definitely didn’t seem like shots fired from a handgun but rather a rifle. That could mean the gunmen were far enough away from the house to possibly be out of Royce’s shooting
range.

  But maybe not out of the ranch hands’.

  Of course, anyone out there was in danger of being killed.

  Royce took aim and fired. His shot rattled the panes in the window. Rattled her, too, because the men were likely converging on the house.

  Another shot came flying through the window, and glass flew across the room, some of it landing on the bed and clattering onto the floor next to her.

  “Stay back,” Royce repeated.

  She did, but Sophie caught a glimpse of the movement in the yard. A man wearing camo and a black baseball cap ducked behind a tree, and that put him much too close to the bedroom.

  Much too close to Royce, too.

  Royce leaned out again, directly in front of the window, fired and ducked back behind cover.

  The gunmen returned fire, the bullets pelting into the window and the side of the house. Sophie saw the spray of drywall and wood and realized some of the shots were tearing through the exterior wall and coming into the room. But they weren’t just coming from the direction of the bedroom window, they were also coming from the back of the house and ripping through the bathroom, as well—where Royce and she had been just minutes earlier.

  “We have to move,” Royce insisted. “Get down as low as you can and crawl into the living room to the side of the sofa.”

  Sophie dropped to her belly and started making her way there. The shots didn’t stop. In fact, they were coming at them even faster.

  Her heart was in her throat now. Racing out of control. And even though her hands were shaking, she tried to keep a firm grip on the gun in case she had to help Royce return fire.

  It seemed to take hours for her to get from the bedroom to the sofa, and she pressed herself against it, making room for Royce. He didn’t come right away, something that didn’t help her racing heart, but he finally scampered out of the bedroom and slammed the door behind him. He’d barely gotten to her when his phone buzzed.

  Volleying his attention between the doors and windows, he took the call on Speaker.