Rocky Mountain Fugitive

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Rocky Mountain Fugitive Page 17

by Ann Voss Peterson


  She felt a nudge against her uninjured thigh. Glancing down, she watched Radar snuggle his nose into her, his tail wagging so hard his whole body vibrated.

  She stroked her fingers over his black-and-white head. Her leg throbbed. The muscles in her back ached. But worst of all was the pain in her heart. Closing her eyes, she let the tears roll down her cheeks. It was amazing she could still cry, that she still had tears left, but she did. For Randy and Layton, for Glenn and the sheriff, for justice itself.

  “It looks like the bleeding has slowed.”

  She opened her eyes to see Eric leaning over her, checking the bandage on her leg. His chest was covered in dust, his face bloody. But here he was, alive. “A miracle.”

  “A miracle.” Eric nodded. Shadows cupped around his eyes. “I used Burne’s cell to call 911. Deputies should be here soon.”

  Sarah’s stomach tightened. She couldn’t quite trust it was all over. The whole thing seemed unreal. “Will they believe us?”

  “They’ll have to. Prohaska has the whole thing on tape. The wind might have drowned out a few things, but most of it near the end is clear as a bell.”

  The reporter. She’d all but forgotten about him. “How is Prohaska?”

  “In pain, but alive. The bullet hit him in the shoulder. A few inches lower, and he’d be gone.”

  Another miracle. “Can he talk?”

  Eric chuckled, low in his throat. “Well enough to tell me he has a bestseller on his hands.”

  Sarah couldn’t help but smile at that, even though none of what had happened was remotely happy. Relieved. That’s what she was. Tired and relieved. She’d come close as a whisper to losing everyone she loved, but she hadn’t…she hadn’t. Eric and Radar, they were okay. They were here. And no matter what had happened—with Randy, with Layton—she knew she had the strength to go on.

  But there was one last thing. Before the deputies got there, before the EMS took her away, she needed to say something. She only hoped she could find the words. “Eric?”

  He folded her hand in two of his. His touch was rough and warm and everything she needed. And for a moment she just sat there and soaked it in. And when she opened her mouth, the words were there, pouring out like a waterfall, clear and clean and sincere. “I believe in you, Eric. I believe in us. And from here on out, I always will.”

  His eyes took on a sheen that burrowed into her heart. “Does this mean you’ll marry me?”

  She nodded, warmth flooding through her. A giggle built in her throat and bubbled through her bloodstream, as intoxicating as champagne. She looked down at her leg. Red soaked through the pads and stained the pressure wrap. But none of it mattered. She’d live. She’d heal. And she and Eric had their second chance. “I’d love to marry you, Eric. As soon as I can walk down the aisle.”

  “Aisle? I was thinking we could say our vows in that little basin at the Buckrail, with the mountains as our church.”

  He remembered. Her stupid, offhand comment. Her childish dream. The thing she thought had destroyed their chances forever, and now it would cement their bond. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

  He moved close behind her. Careful not to disturb Radar or touch her injured thigh, he slipped a leg out on either side. She leaned back against his chest as if he was her easy chair. Her support. The muscles in her back eased, and for the first time in days, she let herself relax, just a little.

  “I love you, Sarah.” His voice tickled her ear and vibrated through her rib cage. “I want to hold you every day for the rest of my life. Not because I have to. Because I want to. More than anything.”

  He rested a gentle hand on her belly. And at that moment, she felt filled to the brim.

  Epilogue

  Eric hated being the bearer of bad news. Especially on a day like today. Sure, the air held a chill and the ground was dusted with enough snow that it really seemed winter had taken ahold of the Buckrail Ranch. But judging by a warm sun and cloudless sky that stretched on forever, neither of those things would hang into the afternoon.

  Of course, weather wasn’t the most glorious thing about this day.

  He took a deep breath of the sweet scent of hay. The sound of grinding teeth hummed through the barn, comfortable, cozy, his morning chores already done.

  Sarah would be awake soon. Sarah and Cody.

  And that’s what made today so special. It was the first day he, his wife and their sweet newborn son would enjoy breakfast together in their home.

  If only he didn’t have to ruin it.

  He closed the barn door behind him and stepped out into the cold. A pickup rolled up the drive, gravel popping under tires. Eric tipped his hat to Keith at the wheel and the new hand, Steve, in the seat beside him, just arriving to start the day’s work.

  Eric had hated to quit the guide service at the beginning of the tourist season, but he hadn’t had much choice. Getting through the summer and the fall roundup with only him, Keith and Steve had been rough, especially with Sarah laid up with her leg injury and her due date drawing near. But they’d made it.

  As it turned out, Eric couldn’t have done it without Keith. The kid had really cleaned up his act. Giving up booze had been tough for him, but it had really transformed his temperament and improved his work ethic. He and the new guy had more than pulled their weight. Selling off more cattle than usual had been a good move, too. And with the addition of guest cabins built over the summer, the Buckrail’s transformation into a guest ranch would be complete by the time the next summer rolled around.

  Eric would be back guiding tourists through the wilderness, and giving them a wild west style ranching experience at the same time.

  Perfect.

  And by the time that happened, he hoped much of the hurt Sarah had been through in the past months would be over. Or at least faded.

  He passed the corral and stepped up onto the porch. For a second, he paused, hand on doorknob, but then forced himself to push the door open and step inside.

  The house smelled like fried eggs and toast, and his stomach growled despite the fact that he didn’t feel at all hungry. He shrugged off his coat and boots. Best to tell her right away and get it over with. He’d already held the news back for one day, not wanting to spoil the baby’s homecoming. She wouldn’t forgive him if he held it back any longer.

  Radar trotted into the foyer, toenails clicking on the hardwood floor. Mouth open and tongue peeking out between lower canines, he looked like he was smiling. No doubt he was. He’d added another human to his pack last night, and all evening, he hadn’t wanted to stop licking the baby’s head.

  “Radar, where’s Cody?”

  The dog tilted his head from one side to the other, as if trying his darnedest to decipher Eric’s words. Turning, he trotted into the kitchen, as if he’d figured it all out.

  Knowing Radar, he probably had.

  Eric followed, his stocking feet whispering against the floor. When he reached the kitchen, Sarah was bent at the waist, hovering over the baby seat shaped a little like a bucket that sat on the table. Her hair draped around her face like a curtain. And in that curtain was tangled a pudgy little fist.

  A chuckle bubbled from Eric’s chest. “Good grip, huh?”

  Sarah smiled up at him through her drape of hair. “I think he’s going to be a roper. There’s a lot of skill in these hands already. I can tell.”

  “Nah, he’ll be climbing mountains by the time he’s three.”

  Sarah laughed. “Maybe he’ll do both.”

  Eric leaned down and kissed the soft fuzz on the newborn’s head, then kissed Sarah. Warmth filled his chest as if the bright morning sun was shining from inside. He was so lucky. Sarah for his wife. A healthy baby boy. A future that was so bright it glowed. They just had to put away the past.

  “What is it?” Having freed the baby’s fingers from her hair, Sarah narrowed her eyes on Eric. “Something’s bothering you.”

  This was it. He had to tell her. He took a deep breat
h. “I got a call from the interim sheriff yesterday, before I picked you up at the hospital.”

  “And?”

  “They found evidence that Randy was in Las Vegas around the time Burne gave him that money.”

  “So he gambled it away.”

  He nodded. “Probably thought he could pocket his winnings and still have the twenty thousand.”

  “Do they know what he was going to do with that money? Why Burne gave it to him in the first place?”

  That was the question he’d been dreading. The truth they’d guessed at but hadn’t wanted to face. The reason he’d wished he’d never gotten that call yesterday. “Yes, they know.”

  Sarah pressed her lips into a solid line and raised her chin. “What?”

  Eric took a deep breath and pushed the words out. “He was setting up a meth lab for Burne.”

  Sarah’s expression didn’t change, but Eric could detect a slight droop to her posture, a slight sheen in her eyes. Her brother had let her down. Again. “I can’t believe I didn’t know about it. Setting up a meth lab, a gambling trip and trying to get the money back with a blackmail scheme. He lied about everything.”

  Eric took Sarah in his arms. He didn’t know what to say. No words could make any of it better. All he could do was hold her and love her and keep working toward a future. Building their business. Building their family. And enjoying their love.

  Sarah gave him a kiss and stepped back, wiping her eyes. “So does this mean it’s over? Finally? Or is someone else going to show up wanting money?”

  “That’s the good news.” He let a smile break over his lips, more an expression of relief than happiness. But he’d come to appreciate relief in recent months.

  “What good news?”

  “There was big crackdown on Burne’s organization. A state methamphetamine task force rounded up a bunch of producers and dealers with ties to Burne. The sheriff said we should have nothing more to worry about.”

  “Is he sure?”

  “I asked the same thing.”

  “And?”

  “He said to rest easy.”

  “And other scams? Was Randy into anything else we should know about?”

  “According to the sheriff, they’ve turned his life upside down and that’s all they’ve found that we don’t already know.”

  “Good.” She moved to the stove and lifted the lid off the sauté pan. A heavenly scent of eggs, ham, cheese and vegetables filled the kitchen. She folded the omelet onto a plate and handed it to Eric. “I got some news this morning, too.”

  Eric carried his plate to the table and sat down next to his son who was now starting to doze. He wasn’t sure he could take any more news today. He’d like to ignore it all and just concentrate on his wife and son and how happy they made him.

  But of course, that wasn’t the way the world worked. “Good news, I hope.”

  “Sheriff Gillette confessed.”

  Eric looked up from his plate, his first forkful in mid air. “To all of it?”

  “He’s admitting to shooting Hodgeson and paying Bracco to dispose of the body. He’s admitting to killing Glenn. And he’s admitting to conspiring with Layton and Glenn to kill Randy and try to kill you. And me.”

  It all seemed so long ago now, even though it wasn’t even half a year. Still, in that time so much had changed. Layton had pleaded guilty to Randy’s murder immediately and was already sentenced. He’d apologized to Sarah in the courtroom, his only defense being Hodgeson’s accepting a bribe in the Burne case would taint all of his other cases, even the legitimate ones, and that his daughter’s killer would get a new trial.

  Unfortunately, Layton had been right about that. The courts were flooded with petitions for new trials. And among the petitions scheduled to be heard were the drunk driver who’d killed the sheriff’s sister and the slumber party killer, both convicted nearly solely on fingerprint evidence.

  He dropped his fork and pushed up from his chair. He crossed the floor and took Sarah into a giant hug. She was soft and warm and smelled of eggs and shampoo and baby, and he pulled in a deep breath.

  Life wasn’t perfect. It never would be. Tragedies would happen. Injustices. Loss. But as long as he had these moments—moments spent with his wife and son, moments of joy like he’d never known—he knew he could get through. He knew every day would be a glorious adventure and love would flow like a virgin waterfall swollen by the melt of spring.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-5245-9

  ROCKY MOUNTAIN FUGITIVE

  Copyright © 2010 by Ann Voss Peterson

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  *Wedding Mission

  *Wedding Mission

  *Wedding Mission

 

 

 


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