Protecting Kate: Dark Horse, Inc: Book 1

by Amy J. Hawthorn

  “Honey, as old as it looks, the ladder is sound. It’s strong. I’ll be quick. Bear with me.”

  She watched with her heart in her throat as he climbed. It wasn’t enough that he climbed an old, rickety ladder and weighed a good deal more than she did, he had to do it in the slick rain. She held her breath while he carefully climbed. With each step he took, her chest felt tighter. He stopped when his head was level with the busted rung. Instead of focusing on the ladder, he stared at her wall and then poked a finger at it. Then he pulled his phone from his back pocket and took a picture of the spot he’d poked.

  “Are you aware of any damage to the siding on this wall?”

  “No. Not unless the shutter did something while blowing in the wind.”

  “I don’t think so. This spot is too low for that.”

  “As far as I know, everything was in good shape when we painted the house last fall. All we had to do was clean and paint. Joe and Leigh helped and they would have told me if they’d seen anything odd.”

  He quickly climbed down, grabbed her hand, frowned as if he just realized she was walking on her ankle and pulled her to the door. “Come on. We need to stay out of view.”

  “Trent, what’s going on?” This was not the quiet, easygoing guy who she’d met at the barbeque or shared pizza with at the lake.

  This man was all stone-cold, serious soldier. Hyper-alert gray eyes glinted in the dusk and surveyed her farm and beyond. When his focus returned to her, no less serious, her heart caught in her throat.

  He took her face in his hands and met her eye-to-eye. “There’s nothing wrong with the ladder. Someone shot the rung out from beneath you. I don’t know if was intentional or on accident but, unfortunately, I’m betting on the first. Accidents like that are far too rare.”

  She shook her head in disbelief. “What? Shoot at me? As in tried to kill me? No. This is Nowheresville, USA. Out here in the county everyone has guns and learns to shoot before they learn to drive. It was probably a freak accident. How can you be certain that it was a gunshot?”

  The grim lines of his face didn’t change. “There’s a bullet hole in your wall at almost exactly the same height as the busted rung. I’m betting there’s a bullet imbedded in your wall. That’s not a believable coincidence.” He tugged at her again.

  With the late evening light fading fast, she followed him inside. A sinking feeling warned that her world was about to change again. He shut the door and her curtains. Then he faced her with worry in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

  Her hands shook, but she said, “I’m fine. I’m still processing everything you’ve said and don’t know what to think, but I’ll be fine. I need to look at your shoulder and see what kind of damage I did.”

  His baffled expression would’ve amused her under other circumstances. “My shoulder? You’re the one who’s hurt. You should have your feet up.”

  “My ankle is fine. Trust me, I’ve had my fair share of sprained ankles over the years and this is nothing. But, you need to take off your shirt and let me look.” She pointed at his shoulder.

  He ran his hand over it and seemed surprised to see blood on his palm.

  “It will only take a minute. Who did you call?” She gestured to the counter where she’d set everything. He stripped off his wet shirt and hung it on her barstool. When he walked over, all bare muscles and brawn, she fought to remember her plan.

  “Fine, but if you insist on seeing to me, then you do it from here.” He put his big hands on her waist and set her on the counter then he stepped in between her legs.

  “If you’re so worried, I can stand on one foot while I patch you up. This is not necessary.” Not to mention too tempting, by far.

  “I’m sure you can, but I won’t have you hurting while you’re taking care of me.” He swallowed, and she watched the tight muscles in his throat work. As if he didn’t know where else to put them, he settled his hands at her waist.

  “So, princess, how many sprained ankles did you have over the years?” His low tone didn’t hold a single trace of scorn or sarcasm, but she couldn’t help but bristle over his use of the title princess.

  “I lost count. Between at least eight years of cheerleading and gymnastics? Several. You don’t know the meaning of pain until you have to complete a dance routine in front of judges on a bad ankle with perfection and grace. To top it off, you can’t forget to smile. Ever. The smile is everything. No matter who’s talking trash behind your back, stealing pieces of your routine or how badly you’re hurting, the pageant must go on.” She met his eyes with steel of her own for a brief moment and then got to work.

  Picking up the wet washcloth, she carefully wiped the blood from his upper pectoral muscle. She’d revealed a shallow gash not much more than a couple of inches long. Dabbing some antibacterial ointment on it, she met his eyes again.

  “Thank you.” He really had saved her ass, and they’d both lost their tempers, likely to the adrenaline rush and fear.

  “No reason to thank me for doing the right thing.”

  The air grew thick and hot as she focused on the wound in his upper chest. “But you were hurt because of me. Thank you. I don’t know why you came when you did, but I appreciate it. I probably shouldn’t have climbed up there alone, but I couldn’t stand the thought of listening to the shutter beat my house to death another night. I haven’t slept well since we found the barn door open and the noise last night only made it worse.”

  When she mentioned the barn door, his eyes darkened as if an ugly thought occurred to him. “Patch me up quick, Kate. We need to get moving.” He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. His jaw tensed with impatience as he waited.

  “Are you going to tell me what has you so upset? Or am I supposed to simply follow like the good little girl?” She couldn’t help but feel irritated by being left in the dark.

  “All right, I know this is asking a lot, but you have to trust me. I need you to pack enough clothes and items for at least a few days. You’re going back with me.” He paused to get her attention, his stony gaze bored into hers, all too serious.

  “What? Why? I can take care of myself.” She covered the wound with gauze and tape.

  “I don’t doubt that you can, but you’re not staying here alone. We’re going back to my place.” He gave a small shake of his head and touched her cheek.

  “Trent, I’m sorry, but I won’t leave my animals. I refuse and, short of literally tying me up, you won’t get me off my farm without them.”

  “They’re coming with us.” There was no anger and only pure determination in his tone.

  “What about Bonnie? I don’t have a trailer, I’ll have to call Joe and it’s too late for him to find a sitter for his daughter.” She couldn’t believe he expected her to pack up and blindly follow his lead.

  “I have a friend bringing a trailer. I have everything your animals could need at my place and it’s safe. I’m not budging. I don’t want to, but I will make you if I have to. No lie.”

  She looked at the firm line of resolve in his jaw and ran her hands over her hair. She believed him. She pulled out her hair tie and fixed her ponytail and looked at him again. His eyes met her in a battle of wills.

  He sighed, leaned in and tucked her under his chin. “Kate. There is a bullet hole in your wall. Someone shot at you. Someone broke into your barn.”

  Putting her hands on his muscled shoulders, she looked up into his eyes. The solid strength beneath her palms and steady gray gaze anchored her. “Aren’t you overacting?”

  “When a person’s life is in danger, there is no such thing as being too careful.” Subtle vibrations from his deep voice rumbled through her in reassuring waves.

  “Are you certain? Why? How?”

  “I know this is asking a lot of you, but just know I’m certain. The why, I don’t know yet, but plan to find out. I can’t say for sure if this was an accident or intentional, but I’m not taking any chances. I promise to tell you more the moment I know you’re safe, bu
t my gut is telling me we need to get out of here.” His face softened as he fingered a lock of her hair and tucked it behind her ear.

  What should she do? Believe that her string of bad luck was just that or trust someone who cared more about his horses than he did anyone else?

  “Okay. I’ll go with you.” It was a quiet acceptance, but she gave it.

  “Good. Let’s get you packed, and I’ll explain what little I know on the way to my place. I’m going out to my truck for a minute and I’ll be right back.” He squeezed her waist once before turning away. He wasn’t acting like someone who was happy he’d gotten his way. He acted like someone who was hip-deep in a mess.

  Somehow oddly reassured by his lack of enthusiasm, she eased off the counter and tested her ankle for pain. The dull throb pounded with each step, but she hadn’t lied when she said she’d had far worse injuries. Thankful neither one of them had been seriously hurt, she packed for herself.

  Not truly caring whether her clothes matched or not, she threw jeans, tees and underwear into a large duffle bag. She threw in a sweatshirt for early mornings, grabbed her bathroom items, a hairbrush and called it done.

  She carried the bag out and found Trent in the kitchen making sandwiches.

  “Are you picky?” His attention shifted to her slight limp as she walked into the living room that opened into the kitchen, but he didn’t mention it.

  “No, but I’m not hungry. Fix whatever you want.”

  Standing at the bar, he quirked a brow at her, lifted a sandwich as if to say, “too late” and took a bite. He quickly put another one together and brought it to her in the living room. “Sit and eat. Put your foot on the coffee table. I won’t tell Ms. Manners. We’ll be on the road soon and then busy getting your critters settled at my place.”

  Not knowing what else to do, she did as she was told. In the amount of time it took her to force down one entire sandwich, he ate two. He carried her bag out to his truck and quickly returned. He dug through her freezer again and brought a bag of corn over. He sat beside her and patted his thigh.

  “Let me see your ankle again.” She set her foot in his lap and he tested the swelling. He seemed to bite his tongue but gave her a look that said he wasn’t pleased with what he saw.

  Instead of repeating that she was fine, she leaned back against the couch’s arm and closed her eyes. Knowing they’d be shaky if they held them up, she stuffed her hands under her hips and took a deep breath.

  “What’s wrong with your hands?” Apparently, he paid more attention than she’d hoped.

  She felt the makeshift cold pack against her ankle. “What? My hands are fine.”

  His eyebrow quirked up. “Then why are you hiding them from me?”

  “I’m not hiding them from you.” She bit her lip and refused to meet his eyes.

  Not bothering to argue any longer he shifted, leaned over and pulled them out. He looked them over and looked at her with suspicion.

  “They’re shaky, okay? I’m tired of feeling them tremble. That’s all.”

  “Come here.” Without actually giving her the chance to obey, he grabbed her waist and sat her on his lap so she faced him. “Why are you so stubborn?”

  How did she answer that? She didn’t consider herself stubborn. She’d simply decided that she would no longer buckle beneath anyone else’s demands.

  She…lost all thought when he took her face in his palms, the rough calluses rasping over her flesh sending ripples of heat through her.

  What had she been thinking?

  “I’m not stubborn,” she repeated. “I just know my own mind and don’t see any reason to give in to what everyone else wants.”

  His only response was to shake his head and kiss her. When his mouth touched hers, the world fell away. He held her in place as if he owned her, licking into her with a ferocity that should have scared her. She accepted him with the knowledge that if she wanted to break away, she could. But as their mouths melted into each other and warm, liquid pleasure spread through her, pulling away was the last thing she wanted to do.

  He drew back and met her eyes as if looking for something. Making some sort of determination, he cupped her nape, tangling her hair in his hands. He nipped her bottom lip and returned, kissing her and stealing her breath.

  Running her hands up the damp heat of his chest, she gloried in the solid, reassuring warmth of him. Her world had tilted on its axis and, for just one brief moment, it felt so right to lean on Trent. She stepped back from the ledge and stole a shot of pleasure for herself.

  His hands slid down her back, urging her even closer to the comfort she craved with shocking need. His fingers gripped her belt and held tight as if fighting the urge to go beyond a boundary from which they couldn’t return. Then, as if giving up the fight, he pulled her tee from her jeans and ran his palms up her abdomen. He slid his thumbs beneath her bra and she sighed, the air in her lungs leaving in a heavy rasp. Their breaths mingled and their mouths tangled in a wicked dance.

  “Kate, the things you do to me? I’ve never felt anything like it.” He stared into her eyes, locked in a fiery embrace she felt to the tips of her toes. Without looking away, he shifted his thumbs to brush over her nipples. Sharp and electric pleasure arced through her.

  Her body tightened. Her panties dampened. The muscles in his bare chest flexed, rippled.

  The sound of breaking glass slammed her back to reality with bone-jarring force. One moment she was lost in Heaven, the next Trent wrapped his arms tight around her and rolled her to the floor, pinning her beneath his body.

  “Fuck me. Do exactly as I say, when I say.” The authority in his voice reminded her of the night they’d found her barn open, only ten times harsher.

  Heat washed over her and she caught the flicker of orange from the corner of her eye.

  “Can you run? We need to get out of here, make a dash up to the tree line. I’m sorry, but we need to get out of sight. Let’s go. Stay by my side every step of the way and, if I say drop, you drop flat to the ground. If I say stop, then you become a statue.” He didn’t bother waiting for her agreement. Taking her hand, he pulled her to her feet and she mimicked his low to the ground posture. He drew her to the backdoor and out into the dark of night.

  He paused as if listening and, suddenly, as if the hounds of hell were on their heels, he pulled her into the yard and ran. Running as fast and as hard as she could make her legs move, she fought to keep up. Knowing he slowed to keep pace with her only drove her to push herself harder, despite the sharp pain lancing up her calf with each step. Pushing herself to keep up, she drew on her prior years of experience. She could do this, she told herself as another jolt shocked through her ankle.

  Then the moment they entered the dark of the forest, he stopped with a lurch. She struggled to catch her breath. Each gasp ripped in and out of her chest with jagged tears. Her heart thundered in her ears. Logically, she knew she wasn’t making much noise, but her adrenaline-fueled fear made her hyper-alert to every rasp and wheeze.

  With pain screaming up her leg, it was all she could do to stay upright and still while Trent watched and planned.

  After a tense moment of him doing nothing but listening and surveying everything, he leaned close to her ear and spoke in a near-silent whisper. “How well do you know this area? Is there a good place to hide, or anything to at least put our backs against?”

  She nodded and drew him with her. Just a short distance into the treed hollow, she took him to a cluster of enormous boulders. The instant they came into view, he gave her a thumbs up and drew her beneath the largest one. He sat beside her and pulled out his phone.

  Below them, orange flames flickered and waved, stretching out of the front windows as if reaching for the sky. Smoke billowed.

  Her home burned while she sat powerless and hoped the fire didn’t spread. She stared at the distance between the house and the locked barn and prayed it was enough to keep Bonnie and Pudgy safe. She’d fought the urge to run straight fo
r the barn, trusting Trent to do the right thing. The barn and her animals appeared safe, but she didn’t know what she’d do if the danger spread.

  He tucked Kate beneath the largest boulder. The behemoth would cover them from behind, above and left. He’d put himself on her right side, leaving the front as the only exposed side. It was far from ideal, but would have to do for the moment.

  What had she gotten herself into?

  He’d had strong suspicions when he’d called Rick to bring a horse trailer and to come armed and ready, but they’d just been suspicions. Too many odd coincidences stacked up to draw an ugly picture.

  Now the danger had become three-dimensional.

  He spared a brief glance to the fire below as he drew his phone from his pocket and dimmed the touch screen’s brightness. He hated to make noise, but he couldn’t let the fire get any larger. He made a call to 911 and told them a quick, vague story about the fire’s origin. They assured him they’d notify the fire department immediately. The moment he disconnected, he dialed again. He needed to warn Rick that they’d run into more trouble.

  The sound of squealing tires pealed through the quiet night. A dark, sleek sedan flew down the road.

  “Where are you? You should have been here already.” He couldn’t help the abrupt words, worry overriding his usual cool control.

  “Sorry, man. I had a little trouble with the trailer, and I had to borrow Bill’s truck. Harlan isn’t back yet.” He heard Rick’s frustration, even through the crappy connection.

  “Tell me you at least came packing heat? We have a situation.” Trent always kept a gun in his truck and had it on him now, but he’d feel better if he had more than one 9mm as backup.

  “I’m prepared for war. What’s up?” Rick’s quick reply eased his tension.

  “Kate’s house was just firebombed about two minutes ago. We’re both okay and took cover in the woods behind her house.”

  “I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.” The cell connection weakened and Rick’s voice sounded garbled.