by Angi Morgan
If she could get her hands free, there was a hook they used for the hay on the wall, but the odds weren’t in her favor she’d reach it in time. All too quickly, her wrists were not only secured together, they were tied a second time to a rail in an empty stall.
“That should keep you.” None too gently, Bishop yanked the rope tighter.
She held in the hiss of pain and ground her teeth, refusing to let him see her flinch. Her wrists were already raw from pulling against the plastic restraints.
“I need you for bait or you already would be dead, chica. Keeping you alive is covering our bases, as you say here in America. I will be back to finish you soon. Don’t worry.” Bishop tapped her cheek lightly and left by the far entrance.
All she needed was enough time to retrieve the knife from her back pocket and cut through the restraints. All she needed was time.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nick and his passenger felt the ground tremor from the explosion when his horse stumbled a bit under them. As dangerous as it was, the resulting fire was probably the only thing that had saved their lives from the sniper.
Nick headed to the east, putting the fire between them and the house, then circling the back side. He dropped off Matt close to the drive to the main road and told him to flag down a car for a ride.
He left his horse a couple of hundred yards from the house. His cell finally had reception again, but no one answered. He figured Cord and Pete would be busy helping with the crowd or fire. Then he heard more shots bounce off the buildings. He was unable to determine where they were coming from.
Could he really go back into a situation that might put another bullet in him? Could he risk getting to the spot where he’d been shot and then losing control—staring into space while others were injured? His chest hadn’t had the phantom pain since Beth had stroked the scar with her tender touch. He took a deep breath. He pictured the corral, strained to see it on the far side of the garden. No dizziness.
The question was no longer if he could go back to his home. Just how.
What was Bishop trying to accomplish?
The closer he got, the more his home looked like a mini war zone. No one worked to extinguish the fire. The wind was taking the flames away from the house and into the pasture. He watched men hunkered down behind tool implements instead of grabbing a shovel or water.
Damn, the shots. Bishop’s men had folks pinned where they were. He needed his rifle, and needed to find out why Cord and Pete and even Beth weren’t stopping the gunmen.
Weaving and staying low to the ground, he quickly made his way to his mother’s garden. Praying that his parents had left with someone else, he finally got to the back porch. And a trail of blood.
He took the steps two at a time. His heart exploding out of his chest at the thought it might be Beth bleeding inside.
“You’re going to the hospital,” Pete’s new girlfriend, Andrea insisted. “I’ve stopped the bleeding, but you were seriously shot.”
“I need to find Cord.”
Nick yanked open the door, blocking out everything except the picture of Pete sitting where his mom rolled out her biscuits. Shirtless, his arm in a sling and enough gauze stuck to his shoulder to plug a dam.
“You’re not Beth.” He relaxed for a split second, realizing she was still unaccounted for as he searched faces in the room.
“Nick,” the room seemed to say at once. Several people already huddled along the cabinets, out of the way.
Pete swung his legs over the side and sat. “I’m fine. I haven’t seen her since before this all started.”
“I can’t get her on her phone. None of you would answer.” Nick felt his own blood pumping again. Everything had completely stopped when he’d thought Beth might be bleeding and dying. She still wasn’t accounted for, but she might have gotten their parents to safety.
“We’ve been a little busy.” Andrea crossed her arms. “She might have gotten to a car and might not have her cell.”
“No way. She runs to the action. Not from it.” His gut was telling him she was in trouble. He had to find her before Bishop did.
Kate looked at her phone. “Cord’s still not answering, but I didn’t think he’d stop to take my call. It’s only been a few minutes since the last shots.”
“There are a lot of people pinned down out there.” Nick hoped Beth wasn’t one of them. “He’s got his hands full.”
“More reason for me to put on a shirt,” Pete complained.
Watching the expression and determination on his girlfriend’s face, Pete was fighting a losing battle.
Nick needed to get outside and help. “Did anyone see my parents leave? Their car’s blocked in by a couple of others.” He searched the faces of people huddled out of the way or helping with Pete’s wound. They all shook their heads. Then everyone heard the next shot, turning their faces toward the window just before the cracked pane shattered.
“Down!” Pete shouted. “Lights.”
Nick was closest to the door and flipped the switch. The remaining light over the stove shone brightly on the far wall. A single bulb that seemed to keep everyone calm.
“Where’s your sidearm?” he asked Pete.
“This was a party. I left it in my truck.” The sheriff stood, almost falling before doubling over the kitchen island, silently admitting that he was out of the game.
“No one’s come through here in a while,” said one of his dad’s friends, who sat next to Nick on the floor. “I was lookin’ for your dad when the shootin’ started. I did notice your fiancé scootin’ out the front door with a city feller right before the explosion.”
Beth didn’t have any friends here.
“What did this guy look like?”
“I’d say he was nice lookin’ with nice city clothes. Sharp pointy shoes, looked like gator or snakeskin maybe. Dark, definitely Hispanic.”
Bishop had her.
“Did they say anything?”
“No. Don’t think so.” He scratched his temple. “I did sort of think it was strange that Miss Beth came from the bedrooms and wasn’t worried about the gunshots. They walked straight out the front. I got distracted helping with the sheriff.”
“Thanks.” He turned to Pete. “Bishop must have Beth. I’m taking dad’s shotgun and looking for her. If you hear from Cord, let him know.”
“Sure thing. I’ll follow just as soon as I can stand up.”
Andrea sat next to him shaking her head. “He’s lost too much blood.”
“Keep him here. Did anyone call for help?” he whispered to Kate.
“Both counties are sending everyone they have, but they’re still about ten minutes away.” Kate shook her head. “You can’t go out there alone.”
Keeping his head down, Nick got to his dad’s gun cabinet and took the twelve-gauge pump action. He shoved shells into the loading flap and poured the box of extras into his jacket pockets. Miss Beth came from the bedrooms. He pumped the slide, moving a shell in place, then crossed the hall, missing the board that squeaked. He slowly turned the knob on his parents’ room, expecting something fishy behind the closed door.
Opening it a crack, he saw a shaking gun barrel. He smashed open the door, leveling the shotgun toward one of Bishop’s men, who dropped his weapon and raised his hands.
All four of their parents began talking at once. He was right. Beth was a prisoner.
“Where’s Bishop?” he asked the man as both the fathers tied him up using neckties. “Come on, man. I know you understand me, so just give it up.”
“I don’t know,” the guy said in perfect English. “But I can call him.”
“Is that what he told you to say?”
The young man was trembling, but his nonreply was enough affirmation. Bishop wanted to know when he returned.
“We’re coming with you,” Carroll Conrad said.
“No, sir, I’m afraid you can’t. Beth would never forgive me. And I’m a lot more afraid of that than I am of Bishop or his
men.” He smiled, trying to reassure them all. He yanked on the neckties, verifying they were secure. “Lock him in the closet, Dad.”
He sounded confident talking to their parents, but his insides shook with fear. If it was a runaway horse, he’d know just what to do. But this? He’d find Cord and work with him to find Beth. He’d work smart instead of alone.
After realizing he couldn’t live without her, he was petrified about losing her.
* * *
BETH’S WRISTS WERE RAW, but she’d kept hold of the pocket knife and had sliced through the first restraint. The knife was sharp enough to cut easily. The delay came from the awkward angle of the second tie around the board. Bishop would return any minute. Her head and her gut told her that.
The fire was on the far side of the house, but the horses could smell the smoke and were uneasy in their stalls. She could hear their chests hitting the stall doors as their snorts and blowing grew louder with a couple of squeals thrown in for good measure. They were warning each other of the impeding danger, but it was a constant reminder to her that she had to escape.
A month ago she wouldn’t have known any sounds a horse made. Or how scared they became when separated from their herd. Now she totally understood. But she was on her own. She dropped the angle of her hands to a more comfortable position and adjusted her sweaty grip before losing the knife to the ground. She jabbed her hand once or twice as she sawed. Then, one good jerk and...she was free.
Perfect timing. At least for Bishop. Half a minute more and she would have had time to get out into the paddock. She barely had enough warning of his return to get her hands behind her back.
“I am ready to leave,” Bishop said into his cell. “When he tries to rescue the senior citizens in the bedroom, one clean shot and my problem is solved.” He pointed the gun at her and imitated firing it. “He knows I have his woman. If he survives my man at the house, I guarantee he’ll be here soon for me to finish things.”
Bishop stowed the cell in his pocket and leaned against a post. Her eyes had grown accustomed to the dark and she could see his maniacal expressions fairly clearly.
“This entire plan was suicide. Why come here with no way out?” She kept her hands holding the top of the rail, giving her the appearance of still being secured.
“You are the one with no escape, chica.”
One of the horses was getting overly anxious and kicked at the back of his stall. It was enough of a distraction for Beth to jump to the stall door. Bishop swung around holding the handgun at her abdomen.
“Since you are in such a hurry, I see no reason to wait.” He raised the gun but a blur crashed down on his arm and soured the kill shot.
“Run!” Nick shouted, tackling Bishop to the barn floor.
Some of their self-defense lessons were paying off. Nick jabbed, braced for a punch to his cracked ribs, swung an uppercut and then rolled Bishop end over end to the other side of the barn.
Beth looked for the weapon Nick had knocked away from Bishop. Nothing. Or if she could reach the hook behind her...
“Beth, run!”
Bishop came up from the floor with her weapon now in his hand. But Nick wasn’t finished. He attacked again with a loud growl, tackling Bishop and ramming him into Applewine’s stall door.
They wrestled for the gun firmly in Bishop’s grip, a familiar struggle. One she’d witnessed in Chicago where she’d hesitated and an agent had died. That was different. She’d been unsure, faced with impossible circumstances of who was who. Here there was no question. Running for safety wasn’t an option. She searched the edge of the breezeway for the second gun.
“No!” Nick yelled.
Beth whipped her head around, once again facing a gun. Bishop fired. Nick lunged. Beth dove.
The shot went high into the loft. She rolled to her feet, toward the man she loved and who had become her partner. She didn’t need a weapon. She had her fists and could help subdue Bishop.
Nick released him long enough to throw his elbow into Bishop’s chin. The gun, still in Bishop’s hand lowered between them.
Beth couldn’t move or breathe. Neither did either man. A split second of the universe coming to a halt then her instincts kicked in.
A step away. Hand extended. Another shot.
The struggle ended. She could see Nick’s confused expression. One of them had taken a bullet. Then they both slumped to the ground. No!
“Nick!” She stumbled the remaining step to him, holding her screams inside before rolling him off Bishop.
The love of her life was covered in blood.
“It’s not me. It’s not me.” He tossed the gun, then held up his hands, grabbing her shoulders. He shook her until she locked eyes with him.
“You cut that one a little close,” she whispered through tears, then pulled his face to hers and kissed him briefly. “Let’s try not to do that again for a while.”
Beth didn’t want to let him go but did as he wearily got to his feet. She placed her hands over Bishop’s wound.
Nick found the lights and tossed the first-aid kit at her knees. “I suppose you want to keep him alive for questioning.”
She didn’t want to think about more questions or smugglers or other impossible plans. She wanted Nick. But they ripped open bandages and applied them to the abdominal wound. Silently. Both of their hands. Together.
The time to say how proud she was of him would come later. He had more reason than most to walk away and leave Bishop to die, but he didn’t. Nick Burke was an exceptional man.
Flashing lights and the sound of a siren filled the barn. They finally had help. Within minutes deputies were there taking over. They cleaned their hands with the water hose outside the barn. She turned toward the house but Nick did an abrupt about-face.
“Uh-uh.” He pulled her next to the barn out of sight of most eyes, protecting her in his arms. “Stay here a minute with me. Our parents are safe. We can let the cavalry handle rounding up the rest of Bishop’s men.”
Exhausted, they propped themselves against the outside wall, letting the rest of the world catch up to their dizzying moment. No words were necessary for once. Just the strong pair of arms around her to make her feel safe, secure and more than a little loved.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The fire was out. They’d be without central heating until they could get another propane tank. Good thing they had fireplaces in the house. Nick took a final look around. They’d lost a storage shed and fencing, but all the animals were safe. Not to mention the people.
Dawn would be breaking soon and he had a full day ahead getting the ranch back into working order. He spotted Beth with Cord on the porch and hightailed it to her side. Not caring at all that he stunk or was covered in soot. He needed to touch the woman he loved.
“Pete’s sleeping it off now, but Bishop didn’t make it.” Cord adjusted his hat. “His men, however, are singing—”
“Like canaries. That’s great,” Beth finished. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, but the breeze made keeping it there impossible.
“I was going to say mockingbirds. It’s more Texan.” Cord winked.
“Watch it, now. That’s my girl.” Nick joined them, leaping up the steps. He was genuinely happy. Glad it was over. Thankful everyone was okay. Grateful he could look at the corral and not freeze. He wrapped his arm around Beth’s waist and she weaved her fingers through his. He was definitely used to her being around.
“Hopefully this is the break your task force needs to find out who’s behind all this,” Beth told Cord. “There has to be more to it.”
“There always is. And you mean our task force,” Cord corrected. “I’m not letting you off the hook.”
“Wasn’t it just last night you were trying to warn Nick about me?” She squeezed his hand, keeping him close.
“I didn’t have all the facts then. You’ll forgive me?” he asked. “I wanted to let you know we’re picking up Mrs. Long. Even though odds are she didn’t know who she w
as passing the info to.”
Beth nodded. “Will there be a joint effort to gather the rest of Bishop’s men in Mexico? Did you assume all along that Bishop was taking orders from someone else?”
“One of the cartels, old or new. You know, there’s a lesson I learned a few years back. If you take out the trash, sooner or later, there’s going to be more to pick up. We cleared this rabble and sooner—rather than later—we’ll have to clear it again. Might even arrest the same underlings.”
“But—”
“Beth, how about you take the rest of today off?” Nick stuck out his free hand to Cord. “I owe you an apology.”
“We’re good.”
And Nick knew they were. They’d been set up as opponents by their small community, but not any longer. Now they were all on the same team. “Just the same, I’m sorry for last night. I’m also sorry that Beth can’t come to work for a few days. That is, if she decides to go back. Her folks are hanging around through the holidays.”
She looked at him sweetly, but in her eyes he could tell she thought he was crazy. He had his fingers crossed she’d agree to a New Year’s wedding.
“Come on.” Nick pulled her toward the bunkhouse. He reached through the door and drew back his hand with a set of keys to the Wrangler.
* * *
SNATCHING THE KEYS from his hand, Beth ran ahead of him and slid into the driver’s seat of her favorite vehicle. She knew where to go without a word. His hill—where he could see his land—even if there would always be challenges. She parked, pointing the Jeep toward the sun that was just peeking over the horizon.
They stood on the seats. Leaning on the roll bar, he gently pulled on her hand and guided her into his arms. The sun’s oranges and pinks stretched across the sky, pushing away the dark night. She’d leave the symbolism for later, too. All she wanted was the moment.
Still surrounded by family and friends, there’d be time to sort through all the details later. Time enough to fill out reports and give statements at the courthouse and to the DEA. Right now, everyone was safe and she was wrapped in the arms of her one and only.