Wyoming Cowboy Protection

by Nicole Helm

  Any fake smiles or pretended enjoyment on his face died into flat, murderous fury. “I don’t need your luck. I wonder if my son is old enough to remember watching me kill you.”

  Addie lifted her chin. “You’ll never touch him.”

  There was a commotion somewhere in the back and Addie let out a shaky breath. They’d gotten his murder threat, which meant the deputy was coming to arrest Peter.

  Except Peter’s mouth twisted into a smile that sent ice down her spine. “Oh, you think that’s your savior? You think your sad little plan was going to work on me? You’re even dumber than your sister, Addie.”

  “She wasn’t so dumb. She got Seth far away from you, didn’t she?”

  Peter lunged, grabbing her around the throat. She fought him off, and he didn’t squeeze her hard enough to cut off her oxygen. He simply held her there, glaring at her with soulless green eyes no matter how she punched and kicked at him.

  “It was fun while it lasted. Watching you run. Watching you settle in and convince yourself you were safe, bursting that bubble over and over again, but you stopped running. That really ruins my fun, Addie.”

  “Good,” she choked out.

  “Good indeed. I suppose it’s time to find my son. I’m going to kill whoever has him in front of you. No one’s going to save you, Addie, because right now in the back of this property a man who looks an awful lot like me is forcing a woman who looks quite a bit like you at gunpoint toward the mountains. And while your friends follow him, we’ll be going in the opposite direction.” He stuck his mouth right up against her ear. “No one’s going to find you, Addie, and Seth will be all mine.”

  In a low, violent voice she cursed him. In the next second she felt a blinding pain, and the world went dark.

  * * *

  THE CONTINUOUS RAGE that had begun to exist like a tumor in Noah’s gut never, ever let up in the three days of being stuck in the Carson cabin knowing Addie was somewhere out there without him to keep her safe. The only thing that kept him from exploding was the boy. Not just Noah’s job to keep him safe, but watching Seth take hesitant steps from couch to wall and back again was...something. It eased a part of the horrible anger inside him, and he thanked God for it.

  “No,” the boy said, grinning happily up at him. Noah held out his hand and Seth slapped it with enthusiasm. Noah had taught a kid to high-five, and even amid the worry and anger, there was some joy in that. Some pride. Silly, maybe, but it was good. This was good.

  This he would protect. “Gonna be a bruiser, aren’t you, kid?” Noah murmured.

  “Ma?”

  Noah didn’t let that rage show on his face. He kept his smile placid. “Mama will be home soon.” Which was a promise he wasn’t about to take lightly. Three days had healed his stitches well enough. He wasn’t dizzy anymore, and he felt much stronger. Everything still hurt like hell, but it was bearable.

  He was going to get out of here soon. Whether Ty and Vanessa wanted him to or not. He just had to formulate his plan and make sure Ty and Vanessa had the ability to protect Seth. So he could protect Addie.

  Noah glanced over at Ty. Every morning and afternoon he went tracking out down the road in the vain hopes it was clear enough to get them all down the mountain.

  They still had Vanessa’s horse, but it couldn’t carry them all, and Seth was too little to be traveling in this kind of weather, anyway.

  Laurel checked in with Ty every evening, but no one would ever talk to Noah. The minute he grabbed the phone or tried to use his own, they hung up. Everyone refused to communicate with him, and it made the rage bigger, hotter. Rage was so much better than fear.

  Every person in his life was a coward, and what was worse, he felt like one. No matter that watching Seth and protecting him was a noble pursuit. It felt like a failure not to be protecting Addie, too.

  Vanessa was in the kitchen complaining about making dinner even though she was by far the best cook out of the three of them, and had insisted they stop trying as it all tasted like “poison.”

  Noah wasn’t convinced his reheating a can of soup could poison someone, but Vanessa was happiest when she was complaining so he just let it go. Let her pound around and pretend she didn’t like taking care of all three of them.

  “No. Ha.” Seth smashed Noah’s hat onto his head. Noah tried to pay attention to their little game and not the fact that Ty’s phone was trilling about two hours earlier than Laurel’s usual check-in.

  “Yeah?” Ty asked gruffly into his phone.

  Seth continued to play his favorite game of taking the hat on and off, though he’d now added putting the hat on his own head to the mix.

  “I see,” Ty said, his voice devoid of any inflection.

  Noah looked over at him, a heavy pit of dread in his stomach. He tried to reason it away, but it stuck like a weight, because Ty’s expression was as blank as his voice.

  In anyone else, Noah might have said he couldn’t read that practiced blankness. Ty hadn’t had it growing up, but he’d come home from the Army Rangers with the ability to completely blank all expression from his face.

  It was just in this situation Noah knew the only reason he’d have to do that was if Addie’d been hurt.

  “What happened?”

  Ty didn’t speak for a moment as he slowly placed his phone back in his pocket. But his gaze held Noah’s. “The guy’s in Bent.”

  The guy. Noah got to his feet, carefully maneuvering around Seth. “The guy’s in Bent. Where’s Addie?”

  Ty stayed where he was. Still and blank. “It’s all part of the plan.”

  Which did absolutely nothing with the way the dread was turning to fear, which he’d channel into fury. “Where is Addie?”

  Ty blew out a breath. “If you can calm yourself, I’ll explain it to you.”

  Calm? How was anyone calm knowing that a person he’d vowed to protect was just wandering around out there? A target. Aided by his family. He didn’t know what was worse, that she’d made love to him and left to face evil alone, or that his family had helped her.

  “They put Addie up at the ranch. Alone, but under the watch of either a deputy or Grady or even Laurel, depending on the time of day.”

  “Let me guess. It went so well. The bad guy’s caught and Addie is one hundred percent safe.”

  Ty scowled. “The guy created a bit of a diversion. Instead of just trying to take Addie, he had another guy with him who made it look like he’d taken Addie. So, two guys with a woman apiece went in opposite directions. Since only one deputy was watching, he had to make his best guess on which one was actually Addie.”

  Noah laughed bitterly. Idiots. All of them. He strode for his rifle, which was hung up on the wall out of reach of Seth. He started gathering what he’d need. His coat, a saddlebag, a first aid kit.

  “Noah, you can’t just leave,” Vanessa said.

  “Like hell I can’t.”

  “What about Seth?” Vanessa demanded.

  “You’ll keep him safe.”

  “Addie asked you to do that.”

  “And I asked you all to keep Addie safe. She’s not. She’s with a mobster who’s been chasing her for a year, who will very likely kill her once he finds out where Seth is. Who in this damn town is a better tracker than I am?” he demanded, glancing back and forth from Ty to Vanessa and back again.

  “I’m not half-bad,” Ty said. “Army Ranger and all. Besides, the deputy is tracking one of them. It could be Addie.”

  “And it could not be. Regardless, a mobster and his buddy have two women. Both are likely going to end up dead if someone doesn’t do something.”

  “Let me do it,” Ty said. “I can track as well as you. And I don’t have a gunshot wound.”

  “You can’t track as well as I can here. I’m the one who knows Bent and those mountains better than anyone. I helped track Laure
l down when she was kidnapped. No one, and I mean no one, is better equipped to do this thing than I am. Not Laurel’s idiot deputies, and not you or Grady. So I am taking that horse. You are arming yourself to the teeth. You die before you let anyone harm that child. And I will die before I let anyone harm Addie.”

  “You’re hurt, Noah.”

  “I’ll damn well live.” Because he didn’t think he could if something happened to Addie. So he couldn’t let that happen.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Addie woke up groggy, her head pounding. It felt like a hangover, but in painful detail she remembered all too well what it was.

  Peter had hit her with something and knocked her out. Nausea rolled in her gut, and she wished she knew more about head trauma or concussions. Was she seriously hurt? Was she going to die?

  You will not die. Not until Seth is safe. Seth. Noah. She had to hold on to the belief that she could end this for them.

  She took a deep breath in and slowly let it out. She took stock of her body as she looked around her surroundings.

  She was cold. So cold. She smelled hay and horse. The walls were slats of wood and... She was in the stable. In one of the horses’ individual pens. Tied to the wooden slats and sitting in the hay. Cold without a coat on in the middle of winter, head throbbing from who knew what kind of head trauma.

  But she was not far from the Carson Ranch. At least, she didn’t think. This didn’t look exactly like the stables close to the house. Everything out here was a little dilapidated, and the hay certainly wasn’t new. It was gray and icy. She knew for a fact someone had been doing Noah’s chores around the ranch to keep the horses and cows alive.

  So maybe she wasn’t at the Carson Ranch at all.

  She couldn’t panic. Even as it beat in her chest like its own being, she couldn’t let it win. She had to be smart. She had to think.

  She was tied to the wooden slats of the stables with a rope. The wooden slats didn’t look particularly sturdy, but the rope on her wrists was tight and rough.

  She gave her arms a yank and the wooden slat moved. She paused and listened, but there were no sounds except the howling wind. Was Peter around?

  She gave her arms another yank. Again the wooden slat moved, even creaked a little as though she’d managed to splinter it. She tried not to let the hope of it all fill her with too much glee. She had to focus. Listen for Peter. Be smart. She had to be smart.

  Still there was nothing but silence. No footsteps. None of Peter’s nasty comments. She didn’t feel the oppressive fear of his presence. So she kept yanking. Harder and harder with fewer pauses between times. Each time Peter didn’t appear, she felt emboldened to move faster.

  She lost track of how many yanks, of the burning in her wrists from the way the rope rubbed, because all she could think about was escape. She could outrun Peter in the snow. While he fancied himself a hunter and an outdoorsman, she knew from her sister he did it in upscale lodges with guides doing most of the work.

  She’d been living in Wyoming for months now, doing somewhat physical labor by keeping house. She wasn’t soft like Peter. She could outrun him. She knew at least some of the area. She could win.

  She had to believe she could win.

  She gave another hard yank and it was followed by the sound of wood splintering. Her momentum sent her forward, and since she didn’t have the arms to reach out and catch herself as her wrists were tied together, she maneuvered to her side and fell that way.

  She blew out a breath, not moving for a few seconds as she lay on the icy hay. Peter still didn’t come running.

  She laughed out a breath. She’d done it. She’d actually done it. But she had to focus and be careful and smart. Peter could be anywhere, and with her hands tied behind her back and a piece of wood dangling from the rope, she couldn’t fight him off. Her only option right now was to escape.

  And go where?

  It was winter in Wyoming and she had no coat. She had some kind of head injury and her hands were tied behind her back.

  Taking her chances with the elements was a much better option than taking her chances with Peter. Someone would find her. They knew she’d been taken, diversion or not. Someone would find her. She had to believe that.

  She got to her feet, leaning against the wall as dizziness washed over her. She was definitely not 100 percent, but she could do this. Her legs were fine.

  Once the dizziness settled, she took a step away from the wall. She wasn’t completely steady on her feet, but it would have to do. Maybe Peter had tied her up and left her to die from exposure, but she had a bad feeling he wasn’t done with her yet.

  If she escaped now she could press charges. She could tell the FBI everything she knew and they’d have to arrest him for all the other things as well. She’d never had any evidence he’d killed Kelly, but she had proof that he’d tried to kill her in the here and now.

  It had to be enough.

  Carefully, she poked her head out of the stall she’d been in. The entire stable was empty. Ramshackle. She had no idea where she was. She’d never seen this building before. All of the buildings she’d seen on Carson property were certainly old and a little saggy, but cared for. No holes in the sides or roofs caving in like this building had.

  So, not on Carson property, but people were looking for her. So all she had to do was run.

  And hope she didn’t end up in the mountains. Alone. Overnight.

  There was a giant door on one side of the stable, but she wasn’t stupid enough to go out that way. If Peter was still around, he’d see that. So she needed a window or a loose board or something. It was still dangerous, but she’d cut down as much chance of detection as she could.

  She searched the stable and found two long-ago-broken windows. There wasn’t an easy way to leverage herself up and out with the jagged edges of glass, the height, or her hands tied behind her back. So she went to the holes in the walls, poking and prodding at the wood around them as best she could without the full use of her arms.

  It wasn’t easy going and frustration was threatening, but she couldn’t let it overwhelm her. Couldn’t let—

  She frowned as the faint smell of gasoline started to filter through the air. She hadn’t seen any machinery in the stables that might be leaking old fuel. Panic tickled the back of her throat, but she swallowed it away. Maybe it was a side effect of the head injury.

  Except then she heard laughter and everything inside of her roiled with futility as Peter’s face appeared in the hole she’d been working on.

  “Here’s Johnny!” he offered all too happily before kicking at the loose boards around the hole—creating an even bigger one. The debris flew at her and she tried to move back so it wouldn’t hit her, but she lost her balance and fell back on her butt, unable to stop from falling all the way onto her back since she couldn’t use her hands to hold her up.

  Peter stepped through the large hole he’d kicked and loomed over her. “Did you think you’d escape?” Peter laughed as if this was all just fun for him, to torture someone. To hurt someone. What had been warped in him to feel good at another’s misfortune?

  The smell of gasoline got even stronger, and Addie tried not to let fear destroy all the courage she had inside her.

  But Peter calmly pulled a lighter out of his pocket, flicking the small flame to life in the frigid air between them, and the smell of gas was only making her feel even more dizzy than she already had.

  “Actions have consequences, Addie. Your sister learned that. The hard way. I thought you might have more sense, but I see I was wrong. You stopped running. You tried to fight. No one fights me and wins.”

  “I’ve been doing an okay job. You don’t have Seth.”

  “But I will. The question is whether I let you die here, or in front of him.”

  The smell of gas was making her sick to her stomach. The flick o
f the lighter. He was going to kill her.

  She breathed through that fear, because he would want to save himself. He’d want to be far enough away before he set this place on fire. It would give her a chance. It had to give her a chance.

  “If you tell me where he is, I might just let you out. Let you run again. If not...” He shrugged and flicked the lighter again.

  “You’ll never find him. Ever.”

  “I guess you’re dead, then.” And he dropped the lighter.

  * * *

  HORSEBACK TOOK TOO damn long. Especially with the snow and the isolation of the cabin. Carson Ranch was too far away. Everything was stacked against Noah, including the pain ricocheting through his side where he might have already busted his stitches.

  He wouldn’t let any of that stop him.

  Besides, if he’d been in a vehicle he would have to go down through Bent. On horseback—slower or not—he could cut up through the valleys where there weren’t any roads and enter the property through the northeast pastures. It’d be more of a surprise approach, and maybe he’d even catch Peter with Addie trying to get out.

  The closer he got to Carson property, the less he let his brain move in circles. He was focused. He was determined. For Seth and for Addie, he’d do whatever it took.

  “Stop!”

  The order seemed to have come out of nowhere, and Noah would have ignored it if not for the glint of a gun from behind the tree line next to him. He brought his horse to a stop, surreptitiously eyeing his surroundings, what options he had.

  “Carson?”

  Noah stared at the glint of gun. He couldn’t see the person and he didn’t recognize the voice, but whoever it was continued on.

  “Get behind the trees. Now.”

  He followed the harsh order if only because if it was someone out to hurt him, they would have done it by now. He nudged his horse back into the trees and eyed the man.

  Crouched behind a rock was one of the Bent County deputies. He looked more like a boy to Noah, but Noah dismounted and looped the reins of the horse to the closest tree. He crouched next to the kid, ignoring the throbbing pain in his side.