The Gift Horse

by Jami Davenport

  “You think Sam in danger?”

  “I think Sam might be. She knows she didn’t set fire to that barn.”

  “How she know that?”

  Carson filled him in, though he wasn’t sure why he was confiding in a guy who considered a barn cat a viable suspect.

  “You let me handle. Is dangerous.”

  He didn’t answer. He wasn’t arguing with Juan, but he’d do as he pleased. He did question his sanity in allowing Juan to escort him. What if the guy was in on all this? Then he would have had an even bigger problem. And where was Hans? Was he really out of town?

  Chapter 39—Riding for Her Life

  They cantered through the woods on a narrow logging road, side by side. The sun shone through the trees and cast patterns of light and dark on the road. Birds sang and a faint breeze rustled the branches. Sam breathed in the fresh fir scent of the woods. Life didn’t get any better than this; although a certain finicky straight man by her side would have been preferable to this finicky gay man.

  Burke’s horse kept crowding Gabbie, almost veering into her at times. Gabbie flattened her ears and threatened him, but the youngster didn’t seem to understand the pecking order. “Can’t you control that thing?”

  “He’s green. His steering isn’t exactly honed yet.”

  The young horse swerved into them again, this time with quite a bit of force. Sam struggled to stay in the saddle as Gabbie was forced off the trail into the brush. The big mare stumbled and went down on her knees. Sam sailed over the mare’s head and crashed headfirst into a tree. A loud crack reverberated through her ears. A sharp pain shot through her shoulder and head. She lay in a heap, her empty lungs screaming for air. She gasped and fought for breath, almost in a panic. Finally, she gulped air into her lungs. Thank God above she’d been wearing a helmet. The crack must have been her helmet hitting the tree.

  Woozy and disoriented, she lay on the ground for what could have been a few seconds or several minutes. Eventually, her brain began to clear, and she struggled to sit up. Burke stood over her. He had something in his hand, but it didn’t register what it was. Sam blinked, trying to bring him into focus.

  “Burke, what happened?” She stared at her friend. Something in his eyes didn’t look right. She touched her helmet gingerly, rubbed her eyes, and struggled to stand. On her knees, she held a hand out to Burke. Her loyal friend kicked her in the stomach. Her legs buckled, and she went down. She had to be hallucinating. Burke wouldn’t hurt her. “You stupid bitch. You should have minded your own business.” He sounded like someone different, not like her old friend, almost as if he were unhinged.

  Shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, she squinted and tried to focus. A big blur loomed over her. “Burke? What? What are you doing?” She zeroed in on the large, sharp rock in Burke’s hand. He intended to bludgeon her to death? Panic rose inside her, overloading her already confused brain. She scooted backward. He advanced toward her, one step at a time, an angry panther toying with his prey.

  Everything inside her went cold. Carson had been right, but about the wrong man. She hated it when Carson was right, even partially.

  “Why didn’t you just leave it alone?”

  “I had to know the truth. You know what happened all those years ago, don’t you? That’s why you never blamed me.” Keep him talking and distract him. She glanced around for the horses. The young horse had already run off down the trail and in the direction of the barn. Someone would come looking for them when he showed up without a rider. Burke wasn’t stupid; he’d know he didn’t have much time. Gabbie stood off to one side, her expression one of equine concern as she munched on a mouthful of grass.

  “I couldn’t blame you for something you didn’t do. You know that.”

  “No, I didn’t until now. Carson was right, wasn’t he? You may not have held me responsible personally, but you knew something, and you let me bear the brunt of the blame.”

  “If you’d just stayed in Germany...”

  “Burke, you don’t need to do this. I’m sure it was an accident.” Her voice wavered. She couldn’t back up any further, her body wedged between two large tree trunks.

  “It was an accident that wasn’t an accident. Like you, she knew too much.”

  “Burke, what are you saying?”

  “You need to have an accident. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is.” His eyes were glazed, almost evil. He leaned close to her. If he was trying to intimidate her, he was doing a damn good job, especially when she noticed a gun tucked in his belt. How the heck had she missed seeing that before?

  “You can’t mean that.” She flattened her back against the tree, but he only moved closer.

  “She wanted to expose the good deal we had going. I couldn’t let that happen.”

  “You and Hans?”

  “You are a naïve bitch. Ziegler doesn’t have the balls for this type of work.” He laughed, a crazy, maniacal laugh. “Matt and I are lovers. She found out.”

  “You and Dr. Matt?” Her heart lodged in her throat.

  “I told you to stay in Germany, but you didn’t. I can’t be responsible for your stupidity.” Dark and menacing hatred shown in his eyes.

  Sam looked around for something, a weapon, anything. Not that it would do any good, he’d drop her before she could make a move. Her eyes settled on Gabbie again. She’d moved several feet away and greedily pulled up grass by the roots while keeping one eye on them. Even if she could make it to the horse, she’d never be able to mount in time. She couldn’t possibly move fast enough. She didn’t even know if she could stand. What she’d give for a nice guard dog right now rather than a horse with the stomach of a pig.

  “Put down that rock. You won’t get away with it this time.”

  “Of course, I will. I’m smarter than the rest of you. I’ll race back to the barn and tell everyone you fell off your horse, hit your head, your helmet popped off, and you aren’t breathing.”

  “No one will believe that.”

  “You’d be surprised what people will believe if you’re clever enough, and I’m clever enough.”

  Burke paused for a moment. His face went blank as he listened. “Shit,” he mumbled under his breath. A car or truck rumbled in the distance, moving fast and coming nearer. Burke turned to listen to the sound, taking his attention off Sam. She saw her chance. Grabbing a small tree for support she heaved herself to her feet. Staggering, she rushed toward Burke and knocked him off-balance. She threw an elbow into his stomach. He dropped like a tree cut in the forest, and she ran as fast as her unstable legs would take her toward Gabbie. Grabbing the stirrup, she shoved her foot in it, and clawed her way into the saddle.

  Burke was one step behind her. He grabbed her ankle and wrenched it, yanking her out of the saddle and slamming her to the ground. She attempted to roll away from him, as he raised the rock and smashed it against her helmet. The last thought in her head was that she’d never had the chance to tell Carson she loved him.

  * * * *

  Juan ducked down low in the seat, as Carson lunged from the truck. Sam lay on the ground several feet away, blood pooled around her head. Burke stood over her, a sharp rock in one hand as he bent down to remove her helmet and apparently finish what he started. Hearing them pull up, he dropped the bloodstained rock and whirled around. He whipped out a small handgun from his belt and leveled it at Carson, stopping him in his tracks. Carson might be a lovesick fool, but he was no idiot. Getting shot wouldn’t help either of them.

  “No closer, or she’s dead.” Burke waved the gun in an arc between Carson and Sam.

  The way he saw it, they were both dead. Juan had hightailed it from the truck as soon as they’d slid to a stop. He doubted Burke even realized the chickenshit had been with him. A lot of help he was. He prayed Bridget would call 911 when the horse they’d passed on the road showed up at the barn. Plus, Brad was on his way. He had no idea how long it would take him, but it didn’t appear the cavalry would arrive in time.
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  “Get over here where I can keep track of both of you.” Burke gestured with the gun. “Believe me, I know how to use this, and I’m quite good at it.”

  Carson did as he was told. Right now his options were slim. Maybe if he stalled long enough, Juan would get help. He studied Sam, relieved to see the rise and fall of her chest. She was still breathing.

  “Get over here. Now. Where I can keep an eye on both of you.”

  Carson started to comply then stopped. He saw movement behind Burke. He mustered every ounce of poker face he possessed and focused his attention on Burke, so he didn’t give anything away. He walked past the crazy shit, keeping his attention away from the figure stealthily coming up behind them. The last thing he wanted to do was clue Burke in.

  “Drop the gun.” Juan stepped behind Burke and leveled his own weapon point-blank-range against his head. “Now.”

  Burke dropped it and looked ready to pee his pants. It clattered to the ground and Juan kicked it out of range. “I doubt you even know how to use that thing. Is it loaded?” Burke spat the words in frustration and anger.

  “I assure you it’s loaded.” Juan answered in perfect English with hardly a trace of an accent.

  Carson’s mind registered the incongruity of it. He filed it away for future reference. Trusting Juan had things under control, Carson ran to Sam’s side. He knelt down and checked her pulse. It seemed fast and weak. His stomach lurched in fear. There was so much blood, but then head wounds always bled a lot. “Oh, baby.” He unbuckled her helmet and pushed it off her head. “Sam, Sam.”

  She moaned and moved a little.

  “Carson, how is she?” Juan called to him.

  “I’m not sure. We need to get help and soon.”

  “We will. First, he needs to be tied up. Do you have anything in the truck?”

  “Uh, yeah, duct tape.”

  “Perfect, get it.”

  “What about Sam?”

  “Hurry. The faster we get this done the sooner we can get her out of here.” Juan never took his eyes off his prisoner. That PI book he’d been reading must have been a damn good book. Carson just hoped Juan did know how to use that weapon if Burke decided to get stupid and rush them.

  Carson ran toward the truck, dug under the seat, and grabbed the duck tape. He turned to hustle back to Juan but as he straightened he felt cold, hard metal pressed to his head just behind his ear. Damn. Now what?

  Dr. Matt Brandland stood next to him with his own weapon trained on Carson. “Okay, walk slowly around the truck.” Brandland’s voice was cold and determined.

  They rounded the side of the truck, Carson in front, Brandland and the gun right behind him. Juan, who’d been concentrating his attention on Sam and Burke, looked their way. His mouth dropped open then snapped shut.

  “Drop it, Juan, or I’ll shoot him in the head and finish off the rest of you one-by-one.”

  Swearing a blue streak in Spanish and English, Juan dropped the gun. Not one to squander any opportunity, Burke swooped in and picked it up along with the third gun.

  “Let’s get out of here.” Brandland ordered and gestured toward Carson’s truck with the butt of his gun.

  “We should kill them now. They can identify us.” Burke brandished both weapons in their direction.

  “We’re already fucked. You should know that. Get in the truck; it’ll take them a few hours to walk back to the barn and call for help. By then we’ll be on our way.”

  “I still think we shouldn’t leave witnesses.”

  “Enough killing. I’m done.” Brandland was already opening the driver’s door. Burke ran to follow. He turned once and fired a few wild shots in their direction. Juan knocked Carson to the ground and out of range. One of the shots hit Gabbie in the chest. She gathered her huge haunches and launched herself into the woods in an attempt to escape.

  Burke and Brandland jumped in the truck and sped off, dust billowing behind them.

  * * * *

  “They won’t get far.” Juan rolled off Carson and to his feet. Carson sprang up after him and ran to Sam. They both bent down next to her.

  Carson didn’t bother to ask Juan how he knew that. Sometimes simple ignorance was preferable to the weird truth. “Do you know first aid?” Carson panted, still trying to get his breath back after Juan had tackled him to the ground.

  “Sí.”

  Who the hell was this guy? Carson dug for his cell phone. It was gone. Shit, it was in his truck, and his truck was on its way to Canada or Sea-Tac Airport by now. “Do you have a cell?”

  “No, it’s in the truck, too.”

  Carson hugged Sam to him, unmindful of the blood. “Sam, don’t you die on me, baby. I love you.” He felt a tear run down his cheek, but he didn’t give a damn. She’d broken through his emotional walls, and no way in hell would he go through the rest of his life without her.

  “She’s in shock. I can’t tell how badly she’s injured.” Juan whipped off his shirt and covered her. Carson did the same. “I’ll keep her warm. You need to go now. Get help. I’ll stay with her. I’m good at first aid. Make it fast, amigo.” The accent was still there. Gone was the broken English.

  “I...” Carson whipped around, Even if he ran, it’d take precious minutes to get back to the barn.

  Juan pointed at Gabbie, who’d come back and stood eyeing them warily from several feet away. Blood seeped from a gash in her chest. The big mare shivered in fear and shock. “Take the horse.”

  Carson stared at the huge animal, and she stared back. Her reins trailed on the ground. Any second, she could whirl around and bolt. Carson held out a hand. Gabbie took a tentative step toward him. One ear swiveled forward. “Come here, girl.” He spoke softly, cajoling her and promising her everything would be okay.

  The mare snorted. Carson grabbed for the reins. Gabbie whirled and dragged him several feet. Carson held on for all he was worth. The mare stopped and looked at him, blowing and indignant. Carson hadn’t been on a horse in years, and never on a worthless saddle like that.

  He cast one more worried glance at Sam. Juan was monitoring her vital signs. “Get the hell out of here! Now!” Juan yelled at him.

  Damn.

  Turning, Carson pulled the mare to a stump and leapt into the saddle like a sack of grain. Gabbie didn’t move, as if sensing the guy on her back wasn’t exactly competent on a horse. Instead of taking advantage of his neophyte riding abilities, she became the model horse.

  Wheeling her around, Carson booted her sides. The mare broke into an easy gallop, as smooth as silk. Carson clung to her neck and hoped she’d find her way home and that he’d stay on her back.

  She weaved and cut through the trees; boughs scraped his face and grabbed at his arms. He held on. As if sensing his urgency, her speed increased. Her feet beat out a frantic rhythm on the logging road—or was that the wild pounding of his heart?

  With a confidence born of desperation, Carson squeezed harder and urged the mare even faster. Soon she was eating up the earth under her feet in huge leaping strides. Carson clung to her. At one time, he started to slide off. Gabbie slowed and waited for him to right himself.

  Hang on, Sam. Hang on, baby. Carson prayed, and he begged. He promised his soul to any deity that would save Sam.

  No way in hell was he living without her.

  Chapter 40—Re-Gifting the Gift Horse

  Carson raised his head from the mare’s neck and spotted the farm buildings in the distance. He urged the mare faster. She responded by increasing her speed. They skidded into the parking lot. Brad and Bridget grabbed for the reins as Carson slid off.

  Bridget gaped in horror at the blood spattered on the mare and the open wound on her chest.

  “Oh, my God. What happened?” She screeched, going into panic mode.

  “Shut the fuck up and call 911.” Carson yelled at her to take the horse and call a vet.

  Brad wrenched the cell from Bridget’s frozen fingers and dialed the number.

  Gabbie pressed h
er head into Carson’s chest. “It’s okay, big girl. It’s all going to be okay.” Sweat drenched the mare’s sides, mingling with the blood, and making it impossible to determine the damage. Carson stroked her big head. “What the fuck is taking them so long?”

  “Give them a minute, they’ll be here.” Brad kept his voice calm.

  “Carson, give me the horse. I’ll take care of her. The vet’s on her way.” Bridget pried her brother’s fingers from the reins and led the horse away.

  “I need to get back to Sam.” The panic in his voice shocked him. He’d always been good in a crisis.

  “You need to wait here so you can lead them to her. What happened, Car?”

  The words tumbled from him in a garbled rush. Brad moved closer and put an arm around him. “She’ll be okay. I promise.”

  Carson stared up at his brother through teary eyes. “I love her, Brad. I can’t lose her.”

  “You won’t. She’s tougher than that.”

  * * * *

  Carson pulled into the ranch house driveway. Sam sat in the driver’s seat next to him.

  “Are you having a party?” She pushed herself up straighter in the seat and stared at the cars littering the driveway. She didn’t feel like a party.

  “Hell, no.” Carson sighed. “It’s just my family and yours.”

  “Why are they here?”

  “I guess they want to welcome you home.”

  She swallowed a lump in her throat. This wasn’t her home. “I was only gone one night. It wouldn’t have been that long if I hadn’t been stuck in emergency forever. Then those agents interrogated me like I was the criminal.”

  “They’re pretty thorough. We all had the same treatment.”

  Sam raised one eyebrow. “Bridget spent a long time talking with the hunky looking one.”

  Carson sighed. “Yeah, I noticed that, too. The poor guy never knew what hit him. Well, let’s get out and face the music.”