by Barb Han
Of course it had. Faith was gorgeous. She was easy to talk to. He liked joking around with her. Naturally, mind-blowing sex would follow. His groin tightened thinking about it. And since there was no chance of a repeat, he said, “I’m going to take a shower. We can talk more when I get out.”
* * *
WHEN RYDER STEPPED into the kitchen wearing jeans hung low on his hips and no shirt, Faith was determined not to watch a couple stray rivulets of water rolling down his muscled chest. Her fingers stretched, remembering the feel of his skin from last night. She forced her gaze away. Memories were as close as she planned to get to that toned, athletic, silk-over-steel body of his from here on out. Anything else was tempting kerosene with a lit match.
“Thunderstorm’s coming,” she warned, having checked her phone while he was in the shower. “They’re saying it might be a bad one.”
“Truck should be okay,” he said, gulping down a glass of water in the kitchenette.
“Hope it doesn’t get too bad. Route 453 might wash out.” She didn’t need to remind him there was only one way to the fishing cabin and one way out.
“I’ll check before I head back home,” he said, his voice a sea of calm.
Meanwhile, she hoped he couldn’t hear her heart thundering. Not knowing if Nicholas was okay had her pulse making double time. And then there was Ryder. He’d always had that effect on her. Even when they were teenagers and he acted like he had no idea who she was. That was the only explanation for him smiling at her in the halls. No one else ever did that.
“Be careful out there just in case,” she said.
He checked his phone. “Shouldn’t be too bad. Believe me, I’ve driven through worse.”
* * *
FAITH LOOKED AROUND for a magazine to read in order to pass the time. There were none. She played around on her phone, checking Nicholas’s social media pages for the umpteenth time. Waiting for Ryder to return from Celeste’s house was worse than watching paint dry.
She glanced down at her belly. A little boredom was worth it for this little bean growing inside her. Unless stress with no foreseeable outlet could actually kill a person, which felt like a very real consideration at the moment.
Now she was just getting punchy.
The sun was starting to fade. It got dark by seven thirty this time of year. Celeste’s place was nearly an hour away, and Ryder had said that she left for work at seven thirty for an eight o’clock shift. He’d said that he would call as soon as he could and that he didn’t want to upset Celeste by walking through her house with a cell phone glued to his ear.
She’d known he might be back late when he’d gone out and brought back groceries before he left. He’d offered to pick up takeout but Faith had refused. She’d needed something to do, and cooking dinner was busywork even though she didn’t know how to make much more than soup and a sandwich.
Her mind wasn’t easy to shut down. If she wasn’t wringing her hands, worrying about Nicholas, her mind was going to places that she couldn’t afford with Ryder. So far, she’d avoided stepping into the bedroom. They’d spent a wild night in there and she didn’t need to be reminded of what she’d be missing out on for the rest of her life. Sex with Ryder had been beyond amazing. Her body had needed the release, she tried to tell herself, and it seemed both had regained their senses after getting caught up in the moment and giving in to the heat between them. She’d chalk her desire up to rogue hormones but she knew in her heart that it was more than that. It was Ryder. Tall. Dark. Sexy. Ryder.
Okay, boredom really was taking a toll. There was no TV at the fishing cabin, so she showered, put on another one of Ryder’s old T-shirts, and then wrapped herself in a blanket to sit on one of the rocking chairs out on the porch. There was a chill in the air tonight, and the weather app on her phone had predicted a nasty thunderstorm would be rolling in soon.
As she sat outside and felt the breeze in her hair, she saw the first wave of thick dark clouds forming as the sun dipped into the shadows across the horizon. Flash flooding could be a big problem this time of year, and she prayed that Ryder wouldn’t get caught out in one as the first droplets of rain fell. He should be fine in his truck. He’d driven through much worse, she reminded herself.
The thought of being stuck at the cabin, alone, didn’t sit well. She wouldn’t risk driving if the weather turned out as bad as predicted. Of course, growing up in Texas she’d learned to take weather forecasts with a grain of salt.
Sitting on the porch, she was beginning to give in to her fears that the situation was completely hopeless. Was there any way to get back into the ranch unseen so she could dig around a little more?
No. Her father was smart enough to find a better hiding place for the documents. He wouldn’t risk Faith alerting her mother to what was going on. He wouldn’t jeopardize what he already had. Thinking about her mother, how lost and alone she’d looked last night, brought fresh guilt washing through her. There was something else about her mother that had changed recently, too. Or maybe it was just stress catching up to her.
Experience had taught her that her mother most likely woke this morning with no recollection of what had happened last night and that was probably for the best. Maybe she could get a message to her mother before she left town. Some note to let her mother know that Faith was going to be okay rather than leave her to worry.
The air pressure changed and a wall of humidity hit as the hairs on the back of Faith’s neck pricked. She searched the nearby tree line, trying to stem the creepy-crawly feeling that someone was watching her as large droplets of rain splotched the partially covered porch.
Lightning struck and thunder rocked.
Faith gathered her blanket around her and dashed inside to get out of the downpour. She peeked out the window, looking for any sign of headlights. It was getting late and there was no sign of Ryder. She checked her cell phone. No bars. The storm must be interfering with the signal. She bit back a curse.
Rain started coming down in sheets, reducing visibility to not much more than the end of the porch. She shivered under the wet blanket.
Thunder cracked and the lights blinked. She could start a fire in the fireplace in case she lost power. That would provide warmth and light.
She shrugged off the blanket and loaded a couple pieces of wood. She’d noticed a set of long matches in the kitchen earlier and she needed to find paper for tinder.
As she turned, she heard the wood floor groan behind her. By the time she registered an intruder, some kind of cloth was over her head and something like a rope was being tightened around her neck.
She tried to drop to the floor to break free from the viselike hands on her arms, but she was immediately hoisted back up. The hands were the size of a male’s and she heard grunting noises as the men worked. There had to be at least two of them, one holding her upright and the other working the bag over her head.
Panic roared through her, robbing her breath. Breathe.
Before she could get her bearings she was being hauled off her feet. She twisted, trying to get them to drop her. These men were far stronger than the ones from the SUV. Bolder, too, she thought, given that they’d come to the O’Brien fishing cabin.
Faith screamed and fought even though there was no one around for miles to hear or help her.
Neither man spoke and all she could hear over the pounding rain was the sound of her own heartbeat. No matter how hard she twisted, there wasn’t much give. The men who were taking her were strong. She remembered the threat that had worked so well earlier. But then, if these men were hired to take over for the others, they wouldn’t care whose cabin this belonged to. Angering an O’Brien would roll off their backs. And she wondered who’d be crazy enough to do that.
Since her earlier attempts to break free had been fruitless, she needed to calm herself enough to bide her time. If she
saw an opportunity, she’d run like hell. In the meantime, she’d conserve her energy. No way would she risk anything happening to little bean.
Fear rocketed through her body as she heard something scraping against the wood floors. And then suddenly she was being forced into a sitting position as her arms were being jacked up behind her body. Some kind of wire or thin rope was being twirled around her wrists, and real fear ripped through her. Terror squeezed her chest, making her lungs hurt.
Her fear of being abducted shrank as her feet were bound together and then tied to the chair. These guys had no intention of leaving with her. She had no idea what would happen next. Would they shoot her? Stab her? She grimaced, tensing her body as she expected the worst to hit at any second. Not knowing what would happen was far worse than any physical torture they could’ve done.
She strained to hear over the battering the cabin was taking from the rain. Feet shuffled across the wood. And she realized that the sound was...moving away from her?
What on earth?
Every muscle in Faith’s body tensed as she waited for the men to return. Or worse yet, were they bringing in someone else to kill her?
Her heart battered her ribs as she tried to breathe slowly. Tremors rocked her body. She needed to get her blood pressure down. It was pitch-black as she felt around, trying to work the bindings on her wrists. It was no use.
She tried not to think about all the ways in which these men could do away with her. Calming her racing thoughts was next to impossible. It was impossible to hear anything over the rain on the tin roof. Impossible not to let fear grip her.
Faith prepared for the worst. Of course, there was the slight possibility that they’d take her to the same place Nicholas was being held. But then, wouldn’t they have done that already?
What kind of torture was being planned that would take this long to prepare?
A door closed. Faith stilled, listening for footsteps.
There were none.
This couldn’t be it. Could it?
Chapter Ten
Ryder couldn’t reach Faith on his way back to the cabin and he could admit that put him on edge. Making the drive out to Celeste’s had netted a whopping zero, and now there was a tree trunk blocking the turnoff to the fishing cabin thanks to the storm. Not exactly the makings of a good day.
He jumped out of his truck and shivered in the freezing cold rain. Ryder could do cold or he could do wet. He couldn’t do cold and wet.
Twenty minutes later, he returned to his seat soaked to the bone but with a clear road ahead. Water poured from his body as he put the gearshift into Drive and pressed the gas, taking it slow. He didn’t want to risk getting stuck somewhere along the two-mile drive and have to hike his way to the cabin. It was too cold and he was drenched as it was.
His mood was pretty sour by the time he parked and cut off his lights. Either Faith was asleep, which he doubted, or the power was out. A common occurrence at the fishing cabin when it rained. And it had come down in sheets earlier. He took the porch steps two at a clip, opened the door and hit the light switch.
“Faith?” He rocketed toward the female figure strapped to a chair in the middle of the room with a cloth sack over her head.
“Ryder, stop!” The words came out desperate, freezing him in his tracks. “They might still be here. Watch out!”
He scanned his surroundings as he backtracked to his truck to retrieve his shotgun. Anyone hanging around the cabin was about to get a big surprise. The fact that no one had jumped him so far made him believe whoever had done this was long gone, but there was no chance in hell he was planning to risk it.
After taking the sack off Faith’s head, shotgun resting on his right arm and ready, Ryder pulled a knife from the kitchen. Ever alert, he sliced through the rope binding Faith’s arms.
Moving around to face her, he put his index finger to his lips and motioned toward her ankles before placing the knife across her lap so that she could free herself.
There was only a bedroom, bathroom and closet to search. He checked the closet last, moving around the bed looking for any other spot where someone could hide along the way.
Faith joined him, rubbing her wrists, and he tucked her behind him as he finished with the bathroom.
The place was clear, so he locked the front door. He didn’t bother lowering the shotgun and had no plans to until he got her out of there. He turned and hauled her against his chest.
“Are you okay?” he said in almost a whisper. A quick visual scan didn’t reveal any signs of injuries. Her wrists were red and he figured her ankles would be, as well. He walked her toward the couch.
Faith sat on the edge, looking too stunned to speak. Ryder brought her a glass of water. There was something on her lap and she was staring at it.
The burlap sack. And words. There were words scribbled on the burlap sack that had been placed over her head.
Leave it alone.
It was a warning delivered by bullies.
He seethed with anger at the thought anything could’ve happened to her while he was away.
“We can’t stay here,” Ryder said to Faith.
She nodded blankly.
“I’m taking you where I know I can protect you,” he said. His voice was calm but left no room for doubt that there’d be no arguments. And he didn’t expect any under the circumstances. As it was, she seemed to be in shock.
She looked up, her eyes wide and fearful. “Get me out of here, Ryder.”
He didn’t bother gathering up their things. Everything they needed was at the ranch, including better security than at the county lockup. Tommy had advised their parents on all aspects of security given that there were a lot of poachers in the area.
The rain was pounding the roof as Ryder closed and then locked the front door. All he could think of was that this had just become personal. The fight had been brought to his doorstep. And he had no intention of backing down.
“Why would they do that?” she finally asked when he’d secured her inside the truck. “I thought they were going to kill me and then they just left.”
“Someone is warning you but they don’t want you dead,” he said.
“What kind of person does this?”
“They were showing us that they could get to you if they wanted,” he finally said after taking his seat and thinking about it. “And that makes me think that whoever took Nicholas is keeping him alive.”
“I felt at least two sets of hands on me. I tried to fight but they were too strong,” she said, staring out the windshield, unmoved by the wipers’ rhythm. “I was too surprised.”
“Whoever is behind this might have been watching you for a few days. You said your father had pictures of you and Nicholas. This might be his twisted way of telling you to walk away,” Ryder said, navigating onto the farm road.
Faith sucked in a burst of air. “I hadn’t thought about the fact that my father might’ve been behind this attack. The whole time they were there—” she paused “—and it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes in total, my mind was racing and I kept trying to figure out who would hurt me. Who would want me killed? Not once did I think of my father. And yet it makes perfect sense now that they walked away. I need to get my mother out of there and away from that lunatic.”
“One step at a time. Your mother’s safe as long as she doesn’t stand up to him or get in his business.”
Faith didn’t think before she answered. “She won’t. I can assure you of that. She’s never gone up against that man a day in her life. I think she’s too afraid of him.”
“Then she’s okay. Right now my only concern is you.” Yes, he cared deeply about what could’ve happened to the baby but he couldn’t think about that right now. Without Faith, there was no child.
No more unnecessar
y risks. Not on his watch. It was high time he brought in reinforcements.
“No one’s truly safe in my family,” she said through a low sob.
“Did you get a look at the men who did this to you? Anything at all?” Ryder asked.
“No. I was about to make a fire and then...boom. A bag was being shoved over my head and I was being picked up. I tried to fight back but they were strong. It all happened so fast that I didn’t see anything and neither of them said a word. All I heard was a little bit of grunting when I tried to twist out of their grip. That’s it. I have nothing to go on.”
“Once we get to the ranch, I’ll call a family meeting and we’ll put our heads together,” he said, gripping the wheel a little tighter.
“Do you have to bring everyone in?”
“I won’t put anyone in my family at risk without their knowledge.” He turned the wheel, navigating onto the road, watching to see if anyone followed.
“Is there anywhere else we can go then? There’s already enough at stake and I’m pretty much the last person any O’Brien wants to see.”
“That’s not true. I’m here and I want to see you,” he said, and he meant it. He cared about her, and the entire situation she was in with her family struck a bad chord. Even though he’d retreated into himself after his parents’ murders he always knew that his family would be there if he needed them. Everyone might’ve processed the news differently but they were all on the same page when it came to support. “My brothers aren’t going to treat you any differently than they would anyone else. If I bring you onto the ranch, they’ll accept you being there.”
“I can’t begin to fathom that kind of loyalty,” she said so softly he almost couldn’t hear.
Being a McCabe had taken a toll on her. He had a fleeting thought that his child would never know that brand of rejection. Speaking of children, Ryder didn’t like the fact that it had been five days since anyone had seen or heard from Faith’s brother. “I need to touch base with Nicholas’s mother and maybe get her out of town for a few days. I didn’t find anything in his room and she’s in danger.”