Nothing.
He lowered the gun and drew a deep breath as he advanced down the side wall of the house. When he reached the next corner he once again got a grip on his gun and took the corner.
The man was visible in the moonlight. He was pouring gasoline on the side of the house and the odor of the gas burned Rhett’s nose.
“Halt!” Rhett yelled.
The man’s head snapped up. He threw the can aside and took off running in the opposite direction. Rhett muttered a curse. There was nothing more he’d like to do than shoot the man, but he knew that if he did he took the chance of killing him and not getting answers. And he desperately wanted to know who was after Caitlin and why.
Shoving his gun in his waistband, Rhett took off after the man. If he had to, he’d shoot, but he’d much rather catch him and if necessary beat the answers out of him. Still, there was no way Rhett intended to allow the man to evade capture. One way or the other, the man was his.
The man obviously wasn’t a runner and had no endurance, and it didn’t take long for Rhett to gain on him. The man’s labored breathing was audible as Rhett pumped his legs, his lungs burning as he focused only on bringing the man down.
There was no question in his mind that this was the person who had shot at Caitlin, no question in his mind that the man’s intention had been to start a fire either to kill them all or to flush Caitlin out of the house where he could take another shot at her.
This thought spurred him on, and when he was within reach he lunged, catching the man by the shoulders and bringing him down to the ground.
The dark-haired man didn’t go down without a fight. He rolled to his back and slammed Rhett’s chin with a right cross that shot pain through Rhett’s entire skull. He answered with a punch fueled by rage. Blood spurted from the man’s nostrils as he cried out in pain.
He slammed Rhett in the stomach with a force that whooshed the breath from him. Rhett rolled away, his lungs aching as they tried without success to draw a breath.
Get up, a voice commanded. Caitlin needs you. Get up and take control of the situation. As the man struggled to his feet, obviously ready to run again, Rhett knew if he didn’t move immediately the man would disappear into the night and no questions would ever be answered.
Still on the ground, Rhett used his foot to sweep the legs out from under the man. The man slammed back down to the ground and Rhett struggled to his feet with his gun in hand.
“Get up,” he commanded.
“Don’t shoot,” the man cried with his hands raised defensively in front of his face.
“Get up,” Rhett repeated. “And if you make a move I don’t like, I’ll pull the trigger without blinking an eye,” he warned as he tried to control the rage that made him want to pound the man with his fists.
Rhett did a quick pat-down and pulled a gun from the man’s pants. Was this the weapon that had fired the bullets at Caitlin? A new rage threatened to engulf him.
“Are you Garrett Simms?” he asked, cursing the fact that he hadn’t even gotten a physical description of the former foreman from anyone.
The man frowned. “I don’t know this Simms person,” he replied.
“Who in the hell are you and what are you doing here?”
The man raised his chin, his eyes glittering darkly. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”
Rhett shoved the extra gun into his waistband and then motioned the man back toward the corral. Once there he grabbed a length of rope lying on top of one of the fence posts and bound his hands behind him. One way or another Rhett was going to get some answers from this man, he thought grimly. At the moment he didn’t care if he had to beat them out of him.
“You can either make this easy on yourself or you can make it hard,” Rhett said as he tied the ropes tighter than necessary.
The man must have heard something in Rhett’s tone of voice that unsettled him. “I was only following orders,” the man exclaimed, with a thick Spanish accent. “You must protect me. I can’t go back to El Salvador. If I return there I’m a dead man.”
Rhett’s blood froze. El Salvador? What in the hell was going on here? What was a man from El Salvador doing here on a California ranch?
Was this the man who had attacked Caitlin in the jungle? Once again a red veil of rage threatened to consume him. He fought against it, knowing that rage made mistakes.
There was only one way to know for sure if this man was one of Caitlin’s attackers and he hated the fact that he thought he just might be bringing her nightmares out of the jungle and right into her home.
Caitlin was awakened by Randall touching her shoulder. She opened her eyes, leaving sweet dreams behind and blinked against the overhead light he’d apparently turned on when he’d entered the room.
“What’s going on?” she asked drowsily.
“I need you to get dressed and come downstairs,” he said. “I caught a man trying to set fire to the house.”
She bolted up, alarm rushing through her as sleep fell away. “Who is he? Where is he now?”
“I’ve got him tied up downstairs and I don’t know who he is, but I’m hoping you’ll know him.” His green eyes were hard, his mouth set in a grim slash as he stared at her intently. “Caitlin, I think he might be one of the men who attacked you in the jungle.”
Her heart crashed against her ribs and she wanted nothing more than to burrow beneath her blankets and ignore what he’d just told her. But, at her core, that wasn’t who she was and she drew a deep, steadying breath and got out of the bed.
“I’ll meet you downstairs,” Randall said as he left the room.
Caitlin quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, her mind buzzing with thoughts. If Randall was right, why would one of those men follow her here to try to kill her? She had no idea who they were, would probably never run into them again, so it didn’t make any sense.
Nothing in her life made sense at the moment, nothing except Randall. If the man downstairs was one of the men from the jungle, then she knew she hadn’t just been a random victim. This meant her attackers had known her name. They’d known where she lived. This thought positively chilled her to the bones.
Once she was dressed she paused at the top of the stairs, her heart beating so fast she felt short of breath.
The faces of the men in the jungle were indelibly burned into her memory, facial features she knew would be there for the rest of her life. Her knees weakened at the thought of seeing one of those faces again.
She looked down the stairs and saw Randall at the bottom waiting for her. His eyes held a supportive glint and as he raised his hand toward her, she realized she was in love with him.
As she walked down the stairs her heart expanded in her chest with the realization of the depth of her feelings for him. She loved him. She wasn’t sure exactly when it had happened, but there was no denying the fact.
She could face anything with Randall at her side. She wanted him by her side not just at this moment, but for the rest of her life.
But she knew wishing it wouldn’t make it come true. He was a ranch hand who blew with the wind and she had seen no indication that he was going to be anything different than that.
Still, as she walked down the stairs and took his hand with hers, she was grateful he was here with her now. “I’ve got him in the kitchen,” he said.
As they walked through the living room Caitlin smelled the odor of the jungle and felt the familiar tremble inside her. Randall tightened his hand around hers, and she drew strength from his nearness and support.
She saw him from the back first. Randall had tied the man to a kitchen chair and all she could see as she approached were the man’s big hands tied behind the chair and a headful of glossy black hair.
It wasn’t until she stepped in front of him that she momentarily lost her breath as she was cast back to that night, to that time of terror. Even with the bloody nose she recognized him.
He was a vision from her nightmares, a living,
breathing part of the worst experience she’d ever had in her life. She fought against the bitter taste in her mouth, against the rising panic that threatened to consume her.
“He’s one of the men from the jungle,” she finally said when she felt in complete control. “He wasn’t the man who raped me but he helped to hold me down.”
She sensed Randall’s anger and held tightly to his hand, this time wanting to give him the strength to maintain control. “What’s your name?” he asked the man.
“Juan. Juan Gonzales.” He looked at Caitlin. “I was only following orders. I didn’t want to hurt you. Please, you have to help me.”
Since the rape, the men in the jungle had become bigger-than-life monsters in Caitlin’s mind. Now, as she saw Juan’s dirty jeans and paunchy belly, his smashed nose and small eyes, she felt liberated from her visions.
He wasn’t an all-powerful monster, but rather just a man, a pathetic little man who had attacked a helpless woman. He was nothing and she would give him no more power.
“Why are you here? Why are you trying to hurt Caitlin?” Randall asked.
“I was sent here because she can identify mi capitan.” Juan’s eyes turned sly. “He is a great man. He’s coming to America and will be a powerful, important man and we’ll all ride on his coattails and become wealthy men.”
“Who is he? I want his name,” Randall said.
Juan’s eyes narrowed in obvious fear. “He will kill me if I tell you his name.”
Randall released his hold on Caitlin’s hand and took a step closer to Juan. “And I will kill you if you don’t tell me his name. I’m here now with a gun and your boss is very far away.”
There was no question in Caitlin’s mind that Randall would follow through on his threat and she saw on Juan’s face that he believed it, too.
“If I tell you his name, then you must see that I get put into protective custody. I want protection. He will kill me and if he doesn’t kill me then somebody from the Raven’s Head Society will kill me.”
Caitlin gasped at the name of the secret society. “What do you have to do with the Raven’s Head Society?”
“Mi capitan, he works for them. It was the society who ordered that we frighten you as a message to your father. Unfortunately he got carried away and…” Juan shrugged his shoulders.
“What message to my father?” she asked.
“It was a warning to him, that the society can hurt him, can hurt the people he loves and he’d better keep his mouth shut. Now, I’ve told you what I know. You put me in protective custody, yes?”
“We need to call the police,” Caitlin said.
“Already done,” Randall replied and then he looked at Juan once again. “And now you’ll tell me his name.”
Juan held eye contact with Randall for a long moment, and then released a sigh. “Marc. Marc Jiminez.”
Marc Jiminez. A small shudder worked through her. She now had the full name of her rapist. Caitlin’s head ached with the chaos of her thoughts. More than anything she needed her father. She had to find out his connection to the Raven’s Head Society.
“Why don’t you go back upstairs and I’ll take care of this,” Randall said. “I’ll tell the authorities that they can speak to you sometime tomorrow.”
Caitlin gazed at him gratefully. Her brain was too fried to make a coherent statement tonight. All she wanted was to get away from the man in the chair and let Randall handle all the details.
Still, she remained rooted in place and stared at one of the faces that had haunted her dreams. Before she realized her intent, she slapped him hard across his cheek. Instantly her hand stung, but she was filled with righteousness.
“Now I’m ready to go upstairs,” she said and with a nod to Randall she left the kitchen.
When she was in her room she got undressed and into her nightgown and then got back into the bed. Her thoughts filled with Juan and the Raven’s Head Society and her father. She rolled over to Randall’s side of the bed where the pillow retained his scent.
She loved him and there were moments when she believed he loved her, too. But perhaps that was only wishful thinking on her part. She wanted him to love her enough to stick around, to build a life with her. She wanted him to love her enough to ignore the wind when it blew in his ear.
Randall loving her would almost make up for all the bad things she’d been through. Unfortunately, she didn’t think that was going to be the case. He’d made it clear over and over again that he was just here for the short term, that his heart was unavailable to any woman.
It was almost an hour later when Randall finally came into her bedroom. She was seated on the end of the bed, sleep impossible with everything that had happened. “Is he gone?”
He nodded. “They picked him up and said they’d be in touch.” He sank down next to her and took her hand in his. “You okay?”
“Surprisingly, yes,” she replied thoughtfully. “I feel as if seeing one of those men again somehow gave me back my power as a woman.”
“That slap you gave him was an awesome thing to behold.” Randall’s eyes held a glittering light that she wished she could see for the rest of her life.
She frowned as she thought of the man. “But I’m so confused about what my father has to do with all this.”
“The Raven’s Head Society. What do you know about that?” he asked.
“Not enough,” she admitted. “The first time I even heard about it was when I spoke to one of Senator Hank Kelley’s sons a couple of days ago. He told me Hank and my father had somehow gotten themselves involved in this secret society that has plans to kill President Colton.”
“Wow, heavy stuff,” he replied.
“Yeah, well, I don’t believe for a minute that my father would ever be involved in such a thing. He’s always supported President Colton, and so has Hank.” Her heart squeezed painfully tight. “Apparently somebody from the society kidnapped Lana, Hank’s daughter. She’s the friend I told you about who’s in danger. Who are these people who would order men to kidnap a daughter and terrorize another to achieve their goals?”
The question was rhetorical. She knew Randall had no answers for her. She squeezed his hand. “Randall, I know you didn’t sign up for all this and I’m sorry that you’ve become a part of it.”
“Don’t apologize.” He dropped her hand and stood and walked to the window where he peered out into the night. “Juan admitted that he took those shots at you, so at least we’ve solved that part of the mystery.” He turned back to look at her. “And I hope that tomorrow you’ll get the answers you need from your father.”
She sensed a distance in him, as if his mind was already a thousand miles away from this place and her. Could she blame him? He’d come here to do a job, to work on the ranch as paid help and instead had found himself embroiled in her personal issues, in a murder scheme. He was probably more than ready to get out of here, to find a job somewhere else where nothing was required of him except the feeding and care of animals.
She heard the wind blowing and it whispered through her with a sense of despair as she realized Randall would soon be gone.
Chapter 11
Today is the day you’ll break Caitlin’s heart. This was Rhett’s first thought when he opened his eyes the next morning. Today was the day she’d learn his real identity and she would hate him.
She was now curled up against his side, the scent of her filling his head. Her body was warm, but did nothing to warm the cold dread inside him.
At this moment Rhett hated Mickey O’Donahue for getting involved with the Raven’s Head Society, and he hated himself for the job he was about to complete.
In the first couple of days at the ranch, he’d remembered how much he loved working on the land, dealing with livestock. Being an FBI agent had never been part of his life plan, had never been something he dreamed of doing.
He’d loved ranching, but had given it all up after losing Rebecca. It was as if in his grief he’d felt the need to p
unish himself by giving up what he’d loved most.
There had been more than a little bit of magic here at the O’Donahue ranch, working with the animals once again, indulging in his attraction to Caitlin. But now the magic was gone and painful duty called.
Quietly, he rolled away from Caitlin and out of the bed. He padded into the guest room next door, grabbed clean clothes and then hit the shower.
He was glad they hadn’t made love the night before. Somehow if they had he knew it would only make today worse. And it was going to be bad enough as it was.
She’d been healing, taking back her power as a strong human being but he had a feeling today was going to shatter her newfound strength.
Once he was dressed he checked in on Caitlin, who was still sleeping soundly, then he followed the scent of freshly brewed coffee and something cinnamon down the stairs.
Esmeralda was in the kitchen, humming beneath her breath as she checked on the cinnamon rolls baking in the oven. She smiled as Rhett came into the kitchen. “It’s a good day,” she exclaimed. “Mickey will be home and everything is going to be fine.”
Rhett walked over to the counter and poured himself a cup of coffee and then carried it to the table and sat, looking at yet another woman he was going to betray.
“Mickey is just like Caitlin, they both love my cinnamon rolls so I got up extra early this morning and made a double batch.” She straightened and wiped her hands on her apron. Her lips trembled slightly. “My poor Caitlin. When I think of what happened to her I want to cry. Thank God you’ve been here for her.” She cast him a sly glance. “I see the way she looks at you. You have become very important to her.”
Jeez, as if he wasn’t already feeling bad. “She’ll be fine. She’s an amazing, strong woman.”
“Even a strong woman needs somebody special in her life,” Esmeralda countered.
Rhett didn’t reply. Instead he sipped his coffee and wished he were any place else on earth while this day unfolded.
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