Griff fought down the relief that overwhelmed him. “That’s too bad, Ryan.”
“Yeah, well, we’re doing all we can,” his uncle answered gruffly. “I’m glad to hear that you’re safe in the cabin.”
“Not a hint of trouble,” Griff answered. “A belt broke on the generator, but we managed to get it going again.”
“Were there spare parts in the shed?”
“No, but we found one in town. After this is over, you might want to tell Mary Ellen to have someone check it thoroughly.”
“She has someone in El Paso who services the cabin regularly. I’ll mention it to her.”
“Don’t say anything until after we leave,” Griff warned his uncle.
“I know that, Griff.” Ryan sighed. “I’m sorry to leave you and Willa stranded in the cabin, but I don’t want to take any chances. I’m hoping we find something soon.”
“Don’t worry about us,” Griff said quickly. “Willa is safe, and that’s all that matters.”
“Thanks, Griff. I owe you for this.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he replied. “Call if there’s any news.”
“I’ll do that.”
They said goodbye, and Griff hung up the phone.
When he returned to the bedroom, he heard the shower running and he smiled. Pulling off his jeans, he opened the bathroom door.
Betsy Keene eased away from Ryan Fortune’s office door as she heard him set the phone back in the receiver. Her heart raced and she knew her cheeks were flushed, but she forced herself to continue dusting as she moved steadily away from the office. If Ryan came out, or if anyone else came along, it had to look as if she were merely doing her job.
Ryan had been talking to Griffin Fortune, that nephew of his from Australia. Ryan had called him by name. And they’d been talking about a cabin near El Paso. Was Griffin the one who’d rescued Willa? Was he keeping her in the cabin?
Betsy’s mind raced as she worked, slowly and methodically. This could be the information that Clint had been waiting for. This could be the breakthrough that he’d wanted.
As she moved farther away from the office, a part of Betsy prayed that the information would mean nothing to Clint. Her lover meant to harm Willa Simms, she was sure of it. And she had a soft spot for Willa.
But she would tell Clint what she’d heard. She’d promised him she would, after all. Her promises hadn’t seemed to matter to Clint, though. He had only become more moody and angry since they failed to shoot Matilda and failed to kidnap Willa. Ever since the night he’d raged at her in the tiny trailer, he’d been unpredictable and frightening. She didn’t want to think about what he would do if he ever did find Willa Simms.
The day passed much too quickly, even though she did several small additional jobs to put off the inevitable confrontation with Clint. Finally she could delay no longer, and she drove slowly home to the trailer she had shared with him ever since his escape from prison.
Her heart sank when she saw the bottle of beer on the table next to the couch. Clint was always more unreasonable when he had been drinking. But she gathered her courage and closed the door behind her.
“I heard something at work today,” she said with exaggerated brightness as she went into the kitchen to start dinner. “I overheard Ryan talking to Griffin Fortune. He’s one of the nephews from Australia.”
“I know who he is.” Clint’s voice was low and deadly behind her. “He’s another one who’s taking what should be mine.”
“He’s not at the ranch right now,” Betsy said hastily. “But I think maybe he’s with Willa Simms.”
Clint jumped to his feet. “What did you hear?”
“Ryan was talking to him on the phone. He mentioned a cabin, and he mentioned El Paso. Does that mean anything to you?”
She held her breath, hoping that it wouldn’t. She didn’t want to think about what Clint might do to Willa. Or to Griff, who had apparently outmaneuvered him at Willa’s apartment.
But a smile slowly spread over Clint’s face. His eyes glittered, and he nodded with satisfaction. “My sister Mary Ellen owns a cabin in the mountains near El Paso. I know just where it is.” His smile grew wider. “I should have thought of that cabin myself.”
“Do you think that’s where Willa is?” Betsy asked timidly.
Clint laughed, and the sound sent shivers up Betsy’s spine. “I’ll bet on it. In fact, I’ll stake my future on it.” He turned his gaze on her. “And yours.”
“What are you going to do, Clint?” She wiped her damp palms on her dress. If he went to the cabin by himself, she thought wildly, maybe she could warn Ryan.
The disloyal thought shocked her, but she was chilled by the fear of what Clint would do to Willa. And to her, she admitted to herself.
“We’re going to take a trip to El Paso,” Clint said, picking up his beer bottle and taking a long pull. “We’ll leave bright and early tomorrow morning. You can call in sick to work.” He took another drink, and Betsy saw with despair that madness glittered in his eyes again. “We have work to do in El Paso.”
Willa woke up and looked over at Griff. He was still sound asleep. His brown hair stuck up straight on his head, and there were no signs of the tense lines that usually grooved his face. He looked relaxed and happy, and Willa grinned.
What they had been doing for the past two days would make anyone relaxed and happy.
She couldn’t remember ever being so content. Although she knew it was irresponsible, she hoped that it took a long, long time for Ryan to find out who had tried to kidnap her. Her world had narrowed to include only Griff.
Her friends, her home and her career in College Station seemed like part of another life, one that didn’t belong to her. She thought back with amazement on her days at the university last fall. She had only been half alive then, she realized, only existing. There had been no colors in her life before Griff.
And now her days and nights were filled with magic.
Her smile faded as she slipped out of the bed. She hoped that magic would still crackle between them when they left the cabin. Sooner or later, they would have to return to the real world. And she was frightened of what would happen between them.
Griff, she knew, was still wary of their relationship. Although she knew that their lovemaking moved him deeply, she suspected he still felt that he wasn’t good enough for her. When he didn’t think she was looking, he would have a sad, brooding expression on his face. Almost, she thought, as if he were imagining what life was going to be like after he left her in College Station.
She didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t want to think at all about life without Griff. Just a few short months ago, she’d thought her job was the most important thing in the world. Now it was just a way to earn a living. Griff was far more important to her than the prestige of being a professor at the university.
He wouldn’t accept that, she knew. He would be horrified at the thought. But there were other universities in the world. And she was well-qualified.
Stunned at the direction her thoughts were taking, Willa slipped on her jeans and a T-shirt, then slid her feet into her shoes. She needed to eat, and so did Griff. Then maybe she could think more rationally about their relationship, and put these crazy thoughts out of her mind. How could she be thinking of throwing away everything she had worked so hard to attain?
Before she stepped out of the room she looked at Griff, and her heart constricted. She wouldn’t be throwing anything away, she reminded herself. She would simply be making a new start somewhere else. Because when she looked at the man she loved, her job faded into insignificance.
She loved Griff. She could allow herself to admit that now, in the quiet of the cabin, while Griff slept. He wasn’t yet ready to hear it, so for now it would be her secret. She hugged it to her heart and smiled as she began to make sandwiches. She and Griff would have another picnic, she thought. After all, they’d never gotten around to eating their sandwiches up on the mountain two days a
go.
But this one would be a little more intimate than the last one. For starters, neither of them would be wearing any clothes. And she wasn’t even sure they would do much eating.
Smiling to herself and humming a romantic song, she finished making the sandwiches just as a knock sounded at the door of the cabin. Dropping the knife she’d been using, she went to the window and looked outside into the early evening darkness. A beat-up sedan sat in the driveway, empty. And on the porch, standing in front of the door, was a middle-aged woman.
She was short and slender, almost fragile looking. Her brown hair hung limply around her face, and her eyes were frightened. She must be lost, Willa thought, and headed for the door. She almost called Griff, but decided not to wake him. They hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep the night before. Or the night before that, she thought, a smile teasing her lips.
A small, lost, middle-aged woman couldn’t be a threat to her.
She opened the door a crack, bracing it with her foot so she could shut it quickly. “Can I help you?” she asked politely.
“I hope so. I must have gotten turned around, because I seem to be lost. Could you tell me how to get back to the main road?”
Willa stared at the woman as fear rose in her throat. Her heart pounded and her palms became slippery with sweat. She opened her mouth to call Griff, but no sound would come out. She recognized that voice.
One of the painters in the hallway of her apartment had spoken to her the night she had been abducted. The fog cleared from her memory, and she remembered—
“Griff!”
Her scream echoed off the walls of the cabin as she tried to close the door. But the door wouldn’t close. It slammed open, and a man grabbed her with rough hands. She struggled as he held a foul-smelling cloth over her face, but she felt herself getting dizzy and weak.
She fought hard, clawing and scratching and writhing in his arms, but his grip was like iron. She kicked out at the man as she felt herself being pulled out of the cabin, but the world was whirling around her. The last thing she heard was Griff calling her name as she faded into unconsciousness.
Griff woke with a start, then came instantly awake as he realized that Willa had screamed. He jumped out of bed and ran into the living room. The door stood open, but Willa wasn’t anywhere in sight.
He ran out the door at full speed, just in time to see two people dumping Willa’s limp body into the back seat of a car. As he leaped off the porch and ran toward it, the car took off down the road with a squeal of tires. Realizing he wasn’t going to catch it, he memorized the license plate number, then ran back into the cabin, tripping over a woman’s brown wig.
After throwing on his clothes, he grabbed his gun and ran back outside, cursing himself. He had let them take Willa. Cold dread settled in the pit of his stomach.
He tried to block the fear from his mind, tried to concentrate only on what had to be done, but he couldn’t block his feelings. Willa was in danger, unconscious and probably hurt, and a cold pool of despair froze in his gut.
It was his fault.
If it was the last thing he did, he’d catch the two people who had her, he vowed. He’d follow them to the ends of the earth, if necessary.
He sped over the ruts in the track that led away from the cabin. The car that had taken Willa wasn’t far ahead of him, and he had the advantage of knowing the area. He might be able to catch up with it.
He drove faster than he should have, jamming on the brakes when he reached the end of the road that led to the cabin. Which way would they have turned?
After thinking for a moment, he turned toward El Paso. Kidnappers would want anonymity. And a large city was the best place to blend into the background. If the kidnappers turned in the other direction, they would drive for miles without finding another town. They would be conspicuous, and that was the last thing they would want.
Once on the blacktop, Griff accelerated far beyond the speed limit, praying that a police officer would stop him for speeding so he could enlist the officer’s help. But he didn’t see any other vehicle on the road.
He had almost decided that the kidnappers must have gone the other way when he saw taillights, far ahead of him. Immediately he switched off his headlights, then pressed on the accelerator again.
He crept closer, managing to stay far enough behind the car that the occupants wouldn’t be able to see him in the darkness. He was almost sure it was the same car that had disappeared with Willa inside, but he didn’t dare get close enough to check the license plate.
As he drove through the night he struggled to banish his fear and focus only on the job he needed to do. He called upon every bit of his training, all his instincts, to think objectively, to make some sort of rational plan.
But his fear for Willa was a living thing, eating away at his mind. It lingered in the air around him, infecting all his thoughts, driving him to push the accelerator to the floor.
When he realized that he had gotten too close to the car in front of him, he braked abruptly. It was too dark for them to see him but the shock cleared some of the fog of rage and despair from his mind.
“Focus, Fortune,” he said savagely. “Do you want to save her, or do you want to feel sorry for yourself?”
He hung back for a few miles, following the tail-lights but the car ahead of him didn’t slow down or speed up. It continued on the road, holding a steady speed. When he’d gotten too close, he’d been able to see two people in the front seat of the car. He’d seen them throw Willa into the back seat, so he assumed she was unconscious and still lying there. He refused to consider any other possibilities.
“If they’d wanted to kill her, they would have done it at the cabin,” he reminded himself. They didn’t have to take her away if all they wanted was to murder her.
So he had to assume she was still alive. And terrified, if she had woken up. Instinctively he pressed the accelerator again, but he caught himself in time. It wouldn’t help Willa if her abductors realized he was following them.
As he crested another hill, he saw the lights of El Paso in the distance. If they intended to take her there, as he suspected, it would be easier to follow them. He could get close to them and blend into traffic.
Griff could follow anyone through a city without being spotted. It was a basic skill in the shadowy world in which he worked. He would blend in with all the other vehicles on the road, following them effortlessly until they finally stopped. Unless the kidnappers were professionals, they would never know he was behind them.
But how did the kidnappers find them? he wondered uneasily. Maybe they were professionals. Ryan was the only one who knew where Griff had taken Willa, and he wouldn’t tell a soul. He wouldn’t even tell his family. They’d agreed on that the first time he’d talked to his uncle. There would be no chance of a leak.
He forced himself to block Willa from his mind as they got closer to El Paso. He would need all his attention to follow the car ahead of him without being seen. But without warning, the car turned abruptly off the road and headed into what looked like a pasture.
Griff approached the area cautiously, then saw that there was a narrow dirt road next to a barbed wire fence. He waited until the car was well ahead of him, then he started down the tracks.
He didn’t see anything in the distance. It looked as if they were headed for the mountains, and fear gripped him again. Was Willa dead, after all? Were they looking for a place to dispose of her body?
He kept some distance behind the car. He caught occasional glimpses of the sedan as the road twisted and turned, then it disappeared completely.
A few minutes later he spotted a small building in the middle of the pasture. It appeared run-down and deserted, until suddenly a light flickered inside the building. He stopped the truck and watched as a small figure walked out the door, and a few moments later two people carried a third person inside.
It had to be Willa.
He eased the truck into gear again and drove as close
to the building as he dared. Sound would carry for a long way in the clear air. When he could go no farther, he parked the truck so that it blocked the road, then slipped out the door. Easing his gun out of its holster, he headed for the small building.
There was no place inside him for fear or anger. He closed down the part of his mind that was full of Willa, and allowed his instincts to guide him. This was his job, after all. And he was very good at it.
He didn’t make a sound as he approached the building. He checked the door silently, finding that they hadn’t bothered to lock it. He smiled grimly to himself. They were arrogant and careless. It would make his job easier.
As he crept up to the tiny window, he could hear voices inside. It sounded like a man and a woman, and he thought they were arguing. The woman’s voice sounded fearful, and the man sounded triumphant.
We’ll see how long that lasts, he thought to himself viciously. He would save Willa, no matter what.
Twelve
Griff eased toward the window to peer inside and assess the situation before he made his move. The two people in the room had their backs to the window. Willa lay on the floor, her hands and feet tightly bound. But her chest rose and fell regularly. She was alive.
And he would make sure she stayed that way.
Her eyes were closed, but as he watched her, he realized that she practically vibrated with tension. She wasn’t unconscious, he was certain. She must be faking unconsciousness in order to outwit her captors.
As he looked at her, lying on the hard dirt floor, a wave of admiration and warmth flooded him. He refused to call it anything else. Willa was strong and smart, and she was doing her best to survive
He would die for her, if necessary. Willa was more important to him than his own life.
Willa was safe for the moment, so he transferred his focus to her captors. He needed to find out all he could about the people who had taken her.
“…then we’ll call Ryan.” The man’s tone was vicious. “He’ll change his tune once he hears we have his precious goddaughter.”
To Love and Protect Her Page 15