Cowboy Under Fire

by Carla Cassidy

  He held tight, knowing it was going to take every ounce of his strength to pull her from the corn and toward the ladder. “Just lie still and let me do the work,” he instructed tersely. If she tried to help him or to help herself in any way, she might only sink deeper, and he already had to pull her legs out from under the heavy corn.

  A shadow from above momentarily distracted him. He glanced up and saw Dusty at the top. “We’re getting plywood,” he shouted down.

  Forest didn’t reply. Planks of plywood could be laid on top of the corn to aid in safety in a situation like this, but Forest had no intention of waiting for men to get planks into place. He needed to get her out of here right now.

  Closing his eyes, he began to pull on her wrist, praying he could dislodge her and get her to the ladder without wounding her or breaking her tiny wrist bones.

  It took all of the strength he possessed and he gasped in relief as she slid toward him just an inch. He’d moved tree limbs that weighed more than Patience. You can do this, he told himself. You have to do this.

  She moved another inch closer, her legs slowly being pulled loose from the corn that sought to claim her. She released another sob, the sound welcome to him for it spoke of life.

  Finally her legs came free and he slid her across the top of the corn and to the ladder. She grasped the rung with both hands as he perched his body just behind hers.

  “Can you make it up the ladder on your own?” he asked.

  She nodded and began a slow ascent upward. He quickly removed the belt that had given him the stretch that he’d needed to reach her. He grabbed it and his holster and then followed behind her.

  Dusty remained at the top of the ladder and helped her over the top and to the other side to climb down. Even though she was safe, she was probably suffering from dehydration and exhaustion. She would need immediate medical attention.

  And he needed answers. Who had done such a heinous thing? He certainly didn’t believe she’d climbed up the silo on her own and somehow accidentally fallen inside. This had to be one of her worst nightmares.

  When he reached the top, he looked down to see all of the men gathered at the silo’s base, along with Devon and Dillon and his men. Cassie was there as well, her arms reaching out to embrace Patience as her feet touched the earth.

  Forest raced down the ladder, where Patience had sunk to the ground in Cassie’s arms, her face white in exhaustion. “She needs to get to the hospital,” he said.

  He fought the impulse to go to her, to pull her up and into his arms and feel her heart beating against his own. But he had no right, and in any case he wasn’t what she needed. He stepped back from her and the others.

  “How did this happen?” Dillon crouched down beside her. “How did you get into the corn silo?”

  “I don’t know... I just woke up and I was there.” Her voice was thin and reedy and sweat still plastered her hair to her scalp and shone on every inch of her bare skin.

  “Get her to the hospital,” Forest said to Dillon. “You can question her on the way.”

  It took fifteen long minutes for Dillon to get her in his patrol car and pull away. Forest watched the car until it disappeared out of sight.

  She would be okay. At the hospital she would get the necessary fluids that had been depleted from her body. They’d even feed her, and she wouldn’t be released until the doctors were sure she was ready to be released. She wouldn’t fight them, not after the trauma she had suffered through.

  The other cowboys had dispersed to get back to work. Dillon’s men had left, Devon had disappeared into the trailer and Cassie had returned to the house.

  Forest found himself standing in front of his room, Dusty at his side. “Are you all right?” Dusty asked in concern.

  “I will be once my adrenaline stops spiking,” Forest replied.

  “We’ve had some weird stuff happen in the last couple of months, but this definitely tops the list of everything else,” Dusty said with a frown. “She said she just woke up in the corn, but she had to have gotten there somehow.”

  “I don’t know if she was just too scared and confused to remember what happened or if she was somehow drugged and carried to the silo.” The sickness that had filled his soul when he’d believed her dead slowly began to dissipate.

  If he hadn’t ridden out to the pond or if he hadn’t gazed at the corn silo, she might have never been found alive. He remembered what had drawn him to the silo in the first place.

  He reached into his front jeans pocket and pulled out the piece of white cloth that had captured his attention. He stared down at it and worked it with his fingers.

  “What’s that?” Dusty asked curiously.

  “It was caught on a nail in one of the silo ladder rungs. It was what first made me think about checking the silo.” Forest frowned. “It’s too heavy to be part of a T-shirt.”

  “You think it was torn off the clothing of whoever dumped her in the silo?” Dusty asked. He stepped closer to eye the piece of material. “It doesn’t look like anything any of us would wear.”

  “No. No, it doesn’t.” Forest stared toward the blue tent in the distance.

  “What are you thinking?” Dusty asked.

  “I’m thinking that we thought the attacks on Patience might have come from one of the Humes cowboys, and then we assumed it was the person who had killed the victims whose bones were in the pit. But maybe the person who wanted her dead was much closer to her than we thought.”

  Dusty looked at the tent and then back at the material. “Part of a lab coat?”

  “Feels that way to me.” Forest shoved the cloth back into his pocket and instead rested his hand on the butt of his gun, which was back in its holster around his waist.

  “Maybe you should call Dillon,” Dusty suggested, a hint of concern in his voice. “This is his job, Forest.”

  “You’re probably right,” Forest agreed, but a rage had begun to build inside him. “But Dillon is busy. He’s taking care of Patience right now.”

  He walked toward the white trailer parked next to the blue tent and was aware of Dusty calling Dillon on his cell phone. But Forest was filled with a rage that wouldn’t wait for Dillon to get back to the ranch.

  Forest thought of the vision of Patience in the corn, of the terror that had darkened the hue of her beautiful eyes and the intense heat and dust that she had endured. Even if the corn hadn’t eaten her alive, eventually she would have died from dehydration.

  He walked faster to the trailer and once again touched the butt of his gun. He might just be willing to spend the rest of his life in prison to avenge what had happened to the woman he loved.

  Chapter 16

  Forest first went into the tent, where Patience’s lab coat was slung over the chair in front of the computer. He picked it up and checked it for tears, trying not to notice the sweet scent of her that clung to the garment.

  It appeared to be in perfect shape and so he hung it back on the chair and moved to the other white lab coat that was draped across the back of the chair where Devon normally sat.

  He checked it inch by inch as his heart echoed in his ears with the beat of barely suppressed wrath. You could be wrong, he told himself when he found no tears in the coat.

  He pulled the material from his pocket once again and held it between his fingers in one hand and grabbed the lab coat with the other. They felt the same in weight and texture.

  There was no way Devon had only one lab coat with him. Their work was dirty and the tent was stifling and the two of them had been here working for well over a month. Besides, Forest knew that Patience had several with her because he’d seen her throw them in the washing machine.

  He was sure that Devon had to have several more identical coats in the trailer, and his gut told him that one of them would have a tear th
at perfectly matched the scrap of cotton in Forest’s hand.

  He shoved the cloth back in his pocket and once again touched his gun. It would have been easy for Devon to follow Patience from the tent the night she’d been hit over the head. The man could have easily made his way back to the trailer in the darkness only to reemerge when they’d found her on the ground unconscious.

  Forest had no idea if Devon had a gun or not, but it would have also been simple for Devon to hide among the trees and try to shoot them and then meld into the ensuing fracas as a concerned bystander.

  Nobody paid much attention to Devon’s whereabouts. He was a respected scientist, Patient’s assistant, and Forest assumed except for his trips into town for meals, he was always in the confines of the trailer.

  But he could have been in the shadows of the night during the two attacks, and while Patience might not remember at this moment what had happened the night before, she certainly would have opened her door to her trusted assistant no matter what the time of night.

  Forest mentally stacked up the circumstantial evidence against Devon and then left the tent. He banged on the trailer door at the same time he saw Dusty running toward him.

  Devon opened the door and looked at Forest in surprise. “Forest, what’s going on? Has something happened?”

  Devon wore no lab coat at the moment. He was clad in a short-sleeved blue shirt and a pair of navy slacks. He was big enough, stout enough to carry an unconscious woman as small as Patience anywhere he wanted to take her.

  “No, nothing has happened. I was just wondering if you’d step into the tent and answer some questions for me,” Forest replied as he worked to keep his voice pleasant and nonthreatening.

  Devon frowned. “Okay,” he said slowly. He stepped down from the trailer and as he did Forest looked at Dusty. “Don’t let him go anywhere.” Dusty drew his gun and trained it on Devon.

  “Hey...what are you...”

  Devon’s protest was quieted as Forest stepped up into the trailer and slammed the door behind him. The steering wheel and two seats were the only things normal about the behemoth recreational-like vehicle. Behind the seats each side was lined with stainless-steel counters holding equipment Forest had never seen before.

  Beneath the counters were refrigerated spaces and above, built-in cabinets that held more equipment and bottles of liquids. At the very back of the vehicle was the private area where Devon stayed. There was a mini-fridge, a small microwave, a two-burner stove and a tiny bathroom with a shower.

  Beneath the single bunk bed set high in the back was a clothes rack where slacks and shirts hung neatly on hangers along with three lab coats.

  Forest yanked the first one off the hanger and went over it inch by inch, seeking a missing piece that would confirm his identification of the guilty person.

  Finding nothing, he tossed the coat on the floor and pulled the second one from the hanger. His heart stopped as he spied the pocket with a jagged tear and an absent piece of cloth. He pulled the material he’d found at the silo out and matched it to what was missing on the pocket.

  It fit. The jagged edges came together well enough for him to know that the errant piece of cloth that had been on the rung of the ladder up the silo had come from this particular lab coat.

  He gripped the jacket tight in his fist, once again fighting against a killing rage. Devon Lewison, the man Patience had probably trusted the most, Devon, the assistant who had worked with her on dozens of jobs, had tried to kill her. He’d tried to kill her not once, not twice, but three times, and he’d nearly succeeded.

  With the lab coat fisted in one hand, he filled his other with his gun and slammed out of the trailer. Dusty and Devon stood side by side. Both men’s eyes widened at the sight of him.

  “Forest, my main man, don’t do anything stupid here. Dillon is on his way,” Dusty said hurriedly.

  Forest didn’t look at his friend. He kept his gaze focused like a laser beam on Devon. “Why?” The single word snapped out of him as he leveled his gun to Devon’s midsection and threw the lab coat on the ground in front of him.

  Devon feigned innocence with his eyes still widened behind his glasses. “What are you talking about? Why what?”

  Forest barely clung to his control as he remembered Patience facedown on the ground after being hit in the back of the head and then faceup in the silo. As he thought of that night when he’d covered her with his own body to shield her from bullets that had come precariously close, his finger itched to shoot Devon, to make sure that the man could never harm Patience again.

  “Why does your lab coat have a tear in it?” he asked.

  Dusty sucked in a small breath while Devon feigned confusion. “A tear in my lab coat? I don’t know, I might have caught it on a piece of equipment or ripped it on a jagged edge of a bone. These things happen...” His voice drifted off and he reached up to level his glasses on his nose.

  “Or you tore it as you carried Patience’s body up the silo ladder,” Forest spat. A siren sounded in the distance, indicating Dillon was approaching quickly.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Devon replied with a touch of indignation. “Why on earth would I want to hurt Dr. Forbes?”

  “I know it was you and I have the evidence in my pocket to prove it, and you’re going to now tell me why.” Forest cocked his gun.

  At the same time, the siren stopped its scream as Dillon’s vehicle squealed to a halt next to the trailer. He jumped out of the car and hurried toward where the three men stood.

  “Forest, what’s going on?” he asked with a forced calm.

  “I’m considering putting a bullet through Devon’s gut,” Forest replied. “The only thing holding me back is that I want answers.”

  “Dillon, this man is obviously deranged,” Devon said fervently. “You need to arrest him immediately.”

  “I think he’s shown an incredible amount of control so far,” Dusty said in Forest’s defense.

  “He’s the person who has tried to kill Patience. He put her in the corn silo to die.” Perspiration trickled down the center of Forest’s back as he kept his gun pointed at Devon. “I’ve got the proof.” He quickly explained to Dillon about the lab coat and the material he’d found.

  “Forest, put your gun away. You don’t want to make matters worse by forcing me to arrest you,” Dillon said.

  “I’m an unarmed man. If you shoot me it will be cold-blooded murder,” Devon exclaimed.

  Dusty placed a hand on Forest’s shoulder. “Don’t do it, man. Let Dillon take it from here.”

  Dillon pulled a set of handcuffs from his belt. “Besides,” he said to Forest. “Your evidence will only add to the evidence I already have against Devon.” He stepped closer to Devon. “Put your hands behind your back,” he instructed.

  “This is all nonsense,” Devon said frantically as Dillon cuffed him.

  “What evidence do you have?” Forest asked, his gun still in his hand and the itch to hurt Devon still like an irritating chigger burrowing deep inside him.

  “Unfortunately for Devon, unlike the night he hit Patience over the head and she didn’t see him, she remembered at the hospital that Devon had knocked on her door in the middle of the night. She distinctly remembers opening the door and seeing him before he slammed a needle in her and everything went black. He drugged her, and then when she was unconscious he carried her to the corn silo.”

  Devon’s features transformed from confused innocence to twisted anger. “She deserved it. She deserved to die. Without her I wouldn’t be an assistant, I’d be the top forensic anthropologist.”

  Forest finally lowered his gun and placed it back into its holster as Devon continued to spew hatred for the woman he worked for.

  “She gets all the respect and I get none. She treats me like I’m nothing but a dumb hitch
hiker she picked up along the road.” Devon was practically frothing at the mouth. “I have the same credentials she has, I have the same education, yet because she’s a young woman she got the top position. I hate her and I want her dead.” He suddenly slammed his mouth closed, as if aware that he’d just dug his own grave.

  “You won’t be bothering Patience anymore,” Dillon said as he grabbed hold of Devon’s elbow and began to lead him to the patrol car. “Maybe you can find a bone or two to examine in prison, because that’s where you’ll probably be spending the rest of your life.”

  He looked at Forest and Dusty. “Don’t touch that lab coat and don’t lose the material you found. I’ll be back for them after I process Devon into jail.”

  Dillon placed the man in the back of the patrol car, and it was only as they drove off that Forest released a deep sigh of dispelled rage.

  “He’ll stand trial and the prosecutor has a good case to make sure he goes away for a very long time,” Dusty said.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Were you really going to shoot him?” Dusty asked.

  Forest considered the question for a long moment. “To be honest, I don’t know. I kept seeing flashes in my mind of Patience in that corn, of her lying on the ground unconscious, and there was a part of me that wanted to hurt Devon for hurting her.” He smiled wryly at Dusty. “It’s probably a good thing you called Dillon when you did.”

  “I didn’t want to see you make a mistake that would affect the rest of your life,” Dusty replied. “And now, there’s work to be done. Are you going to the hospital to check in with Patience?”

  “No.” A pang shot off in Forest’s heart. It was time for him to distance himself from the woman who had captured his love, a woman who had told him in no uncertain terms that she didn’t want him in her life long-term.

  “I think I’ll head to my room for a shower. I’m covered in corn dust and sweat. After that I’ll do a little work with Twilight.” Surely working with the horse would calm the tumultuous emotions that filled him as he thought about everything that had happened and the fact that within the next day or two, he’d be forced to say goodbye to the woman he loved.