Taken in Texas

by Susan Sleeman

  “But?”

  “But you...” She paused and tried to think of a gentle way to say this, but there wasn’t one. “You brought up his grandpa and that destroyed Lucas.”

  “Oh, man.” Cord slapped a palm against his head. “I didn’t think of that. It just came out. Dad always taught us how to be responsible with animals, and he taught Lucas, too.”

  Kendall nodded and looped Sunrise’s reins around a railing. “So let’s take care of the horses. You can have him do another chore tomorrow to make up for it. He’ll still learn the lesson, but it won’t be tied to his grandpa.”

  Cord reached for the cinch on Thunderbolt and unbuckled it. “We had such a nice ride. Almost felt normal again with Lucas. And then I had to go and open my big mouth. Seems like I’m bound to say the wrong thing to him.”

  “It was a nice ride, wasn’t it?” Kendall grabbed the saddle and lifted it off Beauty. “Lucas seemed like he was having a good time, too.”

  “He likes you.”

  “I like him.” She grabbed a brush and started running it over Beauty’s back.

  “No, I mean, in a different way.” Cord frowned and started brushing the other side. “He hasn’t opened up to anyone like he has with you. And around you, he’s acting more like the boy I once knew.”

  She stopped, brush midair, to look at Cord over Beauty’s back. “So, why does that make you frown?”

  He rested his hands on Beauty. “You’re special, and it’s not surprising that Lucas would like you.”

  “Still no explanation for the frown.”

  “I like you, too.” His reluctance in admitting it was written in the tight muscles of his jaw. “More than I should.”

  “I get that,” she said and wished she hadn’t pushed him after his reaction at dinner.

  She resumed brushing Beauty before she said something else. If only her thoughts would give up so easily. They traveled to trying to understand how people who were clearly so wrong for each other could be so attracted to one another.

  Sure, God made people to need others. No question about that. But people often fell for their opposites. Most of the time, they then balanced each other, but with that also came natural disagreement, especially when they both had similar traits. Like her and Cord. They both wanted to be in charge. She’d been blaming him for his tight control back in the day, but it was time for her to take some responsibility for her part in their breakup and be more open-minded.

  She’d had years of her dad trying to hold her back, yet she had just reacted much like Cord, acting first and then thinking. But maybe they were both wrong. Maybe they were doing too much controlling and should be giving over the reins to God instead.

  Are You trying to tell me something here, God? Did You put Cord in my life because You wanted us to figure that out? Maybe be together?

  Cord sighed, drawing her attention.

  “Did we give up on us too easily?” he asked, his gaze thoughtful.

  No way would she answer that. “Talk about a deep question.”

  “I’ve been plagued by deep questions lately. Way too many of them.”

  “I can imagine.” She thought about him. About what she’d been seeing in him. “If the way you reacted to Lucas getting hurt and my being in danger is any indication, you still want to call all the shots. It’s understandable after what you’ve been through, but it’s there.”

  “You may not believe this, but I actually got it under control. Then the plane crash.” He looked down at his hands still resting on Beauty. “Now I feel like everyone I care about is going to die. Lucas included. I want to relax, but then something happens, and I just react. Think later.”

  And Lucas goes running. “I’m probably not telling you anything you don’t already know, but Lucas is chafing under the tight control.”

  Cord looked down at the ground. “I just want to do what’s right for him. But here’s the thing—I don’t know what that is. And he sure isn’t telling me. Why would he, when I’m responsible for him losing his parents?”

  “It’s not your fault,” she said with vehemence, drawing his attention.

  “Sorry. But it is. Totally.” He started brushing again, furiously.

  She went around Beauty and stopped him. “No, it’s not. That’s like you’re saying you’re responsible for them dying. You can’t claim responsibility for someone’s death without also claiming to have the power over life and death. You don’t have that. Only God does.”

  He simply stared at her, emotionally closing down with each second that passed, so she quickly continued. “It’s not your fault that Danny ran after the dog or that Jace and Annaliese got on that plane.”

  He pulled his hand free and brushed in short, halting strokes. “I may not be responsible for the plane going down, but I can take the blame for putting work before family. For having my priorities all wrong. Jace wasn’t supposed to go on that trip, and if I hadn’t insisted on staying at work, Jace wouldn’t have taken my spot and been on that plane. That I’m very clear about.”

  She didn’t know how to respond to that, so she didn’t say anything, but she took note of it for her own life. Was she doing the same thing? Seeing the forest of work and missing her family and friends in the trees?

  “And worse—you want to know what?” His hand stilled, and his eyes went dark.

  With the aching rawness to his tone, she wasn’t sure she did, but she’d told him she was there for him. “What?”

  “As bad as I feel about losing them, most the time, I’m thankful to be alive.” He shook his head. “How selfish is that?”

  He turned his back on her and attacked grooming his mount like it was his only mission on earth.

  “Cord,” she said. “That’s natural. We all have a survival instinct. You can’t change that. God made you that way.”

  He didn’t respond, just brushed and brushed and brushed, signaling the end of their discussion. She had hoped she could offer comfort, but she hadn’t, and it hurt clear to her soul. She set down her brush and went over to him, turned him by the shoulder and drew him close for a hug as she had on the porch. Words didn’t seem to get through to him, but this did. The touch. The sharing of warmth.

  He dropped his brush and circled his arms around her. Pulling her so close and holding on so tight, she struggled to breathe.

  “I’m so sorry you’re going through this,” she whispered. “I wish I could make it better.”

  “This is making it better,” he replied, his breath soft against her neck.

  She laid her head against his shoulder and held on. She felt like something she’d lost had been found. Like she’d come home after a long, wearying journey. They remained there until Beauty bumped her with her nose.

  She laughed and looked up at Cord. “Guess she wants us to finish up.”

  He smiled then, soft, sweet, luminous, stealing Kendall’s breath. He gently touched the side of her face. “Thank you.”

  “I didn’t do anything special.”

  “Yes, you did. You’ve forgotten about our ugly breakup and continue to do your best to help.” He stroked her cheek, and his fingers tickled against her skin. “I’ve spent so many years being mad about how things ended between us that I forgot how amazing you are. Caring. Warm. Always wanting to help others.”

  She melted under his compliments, but the worry that she was letting him get to her mixed with the heartfelt emotions, and she shrugged it off. “We should get back to the grooming and go check on Lucas.”

  He nodded, but before releasing her, he pulled her tight and kept holding like his very life depended on it, then suddenly let her go and bent to pick up his brush.

  Exhilarated. Disturbed. Every conflicting emotion flooding through her, she led Beauty to the water trough, and then went back to untack and groom Sunrise.

  Cord did his share, and when
they had the horses back in their corral, he helped her pick up and put the gear away. They moved in silence, like an old married couple, but there wasn’t the peace she saw with her parents and grandparents. Only a current of underlying tension.

  He hung up the last bridle. “I’ll walk you to the house, then head back to the cabin to try to patch things up with Lucas.”

  Kendall let Cord take a long look outside before she stepped out. They walked under the romantic, starry sky on the wide-open plain, and she felt the urge to reach out for his hand. She shoved hers into her pocket instead and enjoyed being in his company.

  She hadn’t dated much since they’d broken up, and she just now realized how much she missed the companionship of a man. Perhaps she really did need to stop focusing so much on work, too. To let the job happen or not happen in the way God meant it to unfold.

  Man, she wasn’t turning over a new leaf tonight—she was turning over a whole bushel basket of leaves. The thought made her chuckle.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “It’s nothing.” She sped up before she brought them back to a pain-filled discussion.

  Ahead at the porch, she spotted something odd on one of the newel posts. It looked like a piece of paper tacked to the wood.

  “What in the world?” She hurried up to the post and freed the paper. She unfolded it and held it at an angle to catch the porch light. It read, “You don’t listen very well. Now you will pay.”

  “What?” She dropped the note and it fluttered to the ground. Heart racing with fear, she spun. “He was here. On the ranch.”

  Cord snatched up the note and took a look, and quickly moved her up the stairs and inside. A motorcycle roaring down the driveway sounded in the distance before he closed and locked the door behind them.

  He faced her, his expression urgent. “You said the suspect rode a motorcycle last night, too.”

  She nodded, but fear kept her thoughts jumbled.

  “Could be him. Likely is.” Cord curled his fingers into tight fists but then released them and ran a hand over his face. “This isn’t good. Not good at all. He’s sending you another message, telling you he can get to you wherever and whenever. Even right here, on the porch, under everyone’s protection. You aren’t safe even here, and we have to up our security measures.”

  Or else.

  He didn’t add those words, but she could see the warning in his tight expression. Feel it to her bones, the terrifying fear settling deep and freezing her in place as she thought about his implications.

  Or else he really will kill me.

  * * *

  Cord had known Kendall’s attacker wasn’t going to give up. He’d known it as much as he knew she still meant a whole lot to him. And he wasn’t going to let her attacker get to her.

  Time to up his game, starting now, by being more proactive and performing those threat assessments that Kendall told her dad about. He would do everything in his power to keep her alive, starting with treating this threat to her life like the crime it was.

  “Call in the incident,” he said, making sure she understood he would brook no argument here. “Get someone looking for that motorcycle.”

  She dug her phone out from her jeans’ pocket and placed the call to dispatch without question or comment, and that told him a lot about her mental state. She was jittery, and the color still hadn’t returned to her face. But even still, as she talked to dispatch, she handled the call logically and with a level head, impressing him with her resilience.

  She disconnected her call. “They’re putting out an alert, but honestly, without a description of the bike, odds are good he’s going to get away.”

  Cord had thought that very thing, and that meant only one solution to him. “Then as of now, no more leaving the ranch.”

  “You’re overreacting.” He expected an eye roll, but she seemed uncertain.

  “If anything, you’re underreacting.” He nearly growled the words.

  She lurched back, and he was instantly sorry for his tone when she was already so vulnerable.

  “Everything okay out here?” Walt’s protective voice came from behind them.

  Kendall silently stared at her father, who looked like he wanted to force her to speak. Cord remembered moments like these when the sheriff was eager to get to the point, and he often prodded his deputies to talk, but for some reason he waited on Kendall. She didn’t move. Not even a blink of an eyelash.

  “Give your dad the note, Kendall,” Cord said gently.

  She woodenly passed the paper to her father.

  “It was tacked on the porch,” Cord added.

  Walt read it, and his face blanched.

  Winnie stepped into the foyer and glanced at Kendall, then turned to her husband. “What is it? What’s going on?”

  He showed her the note.

  She gasped.

  “I don’t get it,” Walt said. “Why would the suspect leave a warning note when he could’ve surprised Kendall and killed her on the spot?”

  Winnie gasped again.

  “Maybe he really doesn’t want to kill me,” Kendall said. “And he’s still hoping I’ll back down on my quest to find him.”

  Cord didn’t agree. “I think he’s playing with you. He wants you to be afraid before he comes after you.” Cord had to swallow hard at that thought, but he did so he could get the next words out. “I’m worried, Kendall. Very worried.”

  “As am I,” Walt said.

  “Me, too,” Winnie added.

  Cord looked at Walt. “I’d like to stay here at the house instead of the cabin.”

  Cord expected Walt to think about it, as he usually pondered decisions, but he gave a clipped nod. “Another officer watching over Kendall is a good thing, and I’m on board.”

  “Me, too.” Winnie circled an arm around Kendall’s shoulders. “Anything to keep my precious girl safe.”

  “But...” Kendall’s words fell off in a sigh. “Fine. You’re right. My life is in danger and I need to take necessary precautions. Cord staying at the house can’t hurt.”

  At least not hurt when it came to her safety. Their emotions? That was another story. “I’ll go get Lucas.”

  Cord bolted out the door and stopped at the base of the stairs to scan the shadowy night. He didn’t really think the suspect would have returned, but he didn’t want to leave the house until he was confident that Kendall was safe. Sure, her dad and granddad were with her, but it was Cord’s job to protect her. Not theirs. His job. Always his.

  And it was becoming clear he wanted it to be. Not that he wanted her in danger, but that he wanted to look out for her, make sure she was happy, had everything she needed—not just for a day or two, but all the time.

  The thought cut him in two. Not that it mattered. He shook his head and jogged across the flat property. Inside the two-bedroom cabin, he found Lucas sitting in front of the TV in the small family room.

  “We’re moving up to the house,” he announced without any explanation, as he didn’t want to tell Lucas what had happened and scare him.

  He scowled. “Don’t tell me. I did something else wrong and you’re punishing me.”

  “No. It’s just something we have to do.”

  “But I like it out here.”

  “Sorry. If it could be any other way, it would. Now get your things packed.”

  Lucas sighed.

  “It’s for Kendall. I know you like her and want to help her, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Then get hopping. I want to be out of here in a flash.”

  Lucas stomped out of the room, the soles of his sneakers slapping against the wood floor. Cord passed the bedroom, where his nephew was tossing things into his duffel bag. Cord wished he could explain, but it would be cruel to make Lucas worry more when he already had so many tough things going o
n in his life.

  Cord gathered his things together, then met Lucas at the door and they walked in silence to the ranch house, the humidity of the night clinging to them like plastic wrap. Cord opened his mouth several times to say something about the earlier incident at the barn, but with Lucas disappointed about moving from the cabin, now wasn’t the time to have that talk.

  They entered the house to find Winnie and Kendall waiting in the foyer. Lucas set his duffel bag on the floor, his lower lip poking out.

  Winnie rested a hand on his shoulder. “Let me show you where you’ll be staying. It’s Matt’s old room, and there’s a video game system of some sort in there.”

  “Good. Anywhere but where he is.” Lucas stomped up the stairs, behind Winnie.

  A knife jabbed itself into Cord’s heart, and he stared at Lucas’s duffel bag.

  “Cord, I’m so sorry.” Kendall’s soft voice wrapped around him. “I hate seeing the two of you suffer like this.”

  He turned to look at her, and her tender expression left him feeling defenseless. He should walk away. Turn away at the least, but instead he held open his arms.

  She came into them willingly. He clasped the back of her shirt like she was his lifeline. Shoot, maybe she was. He needed her—that much he knew—needed her badly.

  She leaned back to look up at him. Her gaze seared him and sent his insides churning. The urge to kiss her nearly took him down. He lowered his head, paused inches from her lips and waited for her to tell him not to proceed but hoped she wouldn’t.

  She raised her hand up, slid it into his hair and drew his mouth down to hers. Her touch shocked him clean through.

  They’d always had a connection but this was more—so much more—and he wanted it to block everything else out in his life. To make it last. To keep kissing her. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t. Leading her on when they had no future together didn’t reflect the man he tried to be, so he stepped back.

  THIRTEEN

  Morning dawned bright and sunny but they were no closer to finding Eve than they’d been the night they’d discovered her missing. Nor were they any closer to eliminating the threat to Kendall’s own life. At breakfast, around the dining table, she worried for her safety and felt the pressure mount over finding Eve. A wave of panic swamped her as she finished her coffee.