by Linda Turner
Relieved that she’d successfully distracted him, she said dryly, “No problem. I’ll take the easy way out and grab a couple of frozen pies from the freezer.”
They spent most of the rest of the afternoon cooking and setting up tables on the patio, and Cookie didn’t ask her again about her father. When hours passed and there was still no word from him, she tried to take that as one more sign that he really wasn’t going to show. Still, one question continued to haunt her. What if he did?
Just thinking about what he might do to Steve because of what she’d said chilled her to the bone. What if he really did hurt him? Could she live with herself?
No.
The answer came swift and sure and made her sick to her stomach. She couldn’t stand by and do nothing while her father took Steve apart. Even if that meant incurring her father’s wrath. She had to get Steve out of there before her father got back. Then he wouldn’t be hurt.
In the process of cleaning the oversize serving dishes that would be used tomorrow, she knew she didn’t have any time to waste. Abruptly, she walked off the job and headed for the back door.
Cookie looked up from the stove with a scowl. “Hey, where’re you going?” he growled indignantly.
Her thoughts on Steve, Lise only waved absently and kept walking. “I’ll be back as fast as I can. There’s something I have to do.”
She didn’t wait for him to reply, but stepped outside and strode toward the barn. At different times over the course of the afternoon, she’d caught sight of Steve working around the corral and barn and wasn’t surprised to find him still there long after the others had stopped to wash up for the evening meal. He had taken nearly a week of sick leave at one of the busiest times of the year, and he was the type who would feel guilty about missing work while everyone else slaved in the hot sun. Now he was trying to make up for it.
Finding him in the barn cleaning the rifles that had been taken on the roundup, she said without fanfare, “I need to talk to you.”
Never lifting his eyes from his work, he said, “I’m almost finished here. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
“Someone else can do that later,” she replied impatiently. “Right now, I need you to put that away and hitch one of the horse trailers to my truck. There’s an auction over in Matilda tomorrow I want you to take some colts to. If you leave within the hour, you should make it there by midnight. I’ve already made a reservation for you at the King’s Inn. Call me when you get there.”
Surprised, Steve looked at her. What the devil was she talking about? The barbecue was tomorrow, and Simon was coming in. He wasn’t going anywhere. “You expect me to go to Matilda? Tonight?”
“Yes, I do. There’s an auction tomorrow—”
“So? Auction houses have them all the time. What’s so all-fired great about this particular one?”
“It’s the best in Western Australia,” she responded. “With everything that’s been going on, I completely forgot about it. Horse buyers from all over the country will be there. If we’re lucky, we can sell a good number of colts. Which is why you have to leave now,” she insisted.
Since when had she become so desperate to sell horses? Steve wondered with a frown. It wasn’t like they were overrun with them. They were working a cattle station, for God’s sake. They needed every horse they had.
His gray eyes narrowing suspiciously, he growled, “What’s going on, Lise? If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were trying to get rid of me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She sniffed indignantly. “Nothing’s going on. I don’t know why you think there would be. I just need those horses in Matilda by eight o’clock in the morning, and I want you to take them. What’s so difficult to understand about that?”
Difficult, indeed, he thought with a snort. Delivering the horses wasn’t the problem. It was her story, dammit. It didn’t add up, and he wanted no part of it. “Nothing,” he said flatly. “Except that I’m not going.”
He couldn’t have surprised her more if he’d slapped her. “You’re refusing to go?”
“You’re damn straight, I’m refusing. You said yourself I didn’t have to go back to work until after the barbecue, so that’s what I’m doing. If you really want those horses in Matilda tomorrow, I’m sure Tuck will be happy to take them for you.”
No one had ever openly refused to obey one of her orders before. “I didn’t tell Tuck to go,” she snapped, outraged. “I told you. Told, Steve,” she stressed. “I didn’t ask. That means you don’t have a choice in the matter if you intend to keeping working on this station. So what’s it going to be? Are you going to Matilda or not? The choice is yours.”
“I already told you. I’m not going.”
She was so furious, steam was practically coming out of her ears. At any other time, Steve might have been amused that he could push her buttons so easily, but there was nothing amusing about her present behavior. She wasn’t the type to throw orders around and play the heavy-handed boss. That just wasn’t her way. So what the hell was going on?
“Then you can pack your bags.”
If she thought she could manipulate him that easily, she quickly discovered she’d underestimated him. “Go ahead and fire me,” he taunted, as angry as she. “But I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what this is all about. And don’t give me that garbage about the auction. What’s really going on? Are you afraid I’m going to embarrass you in front of your father or what? Is that why you’re trying to get rid of me? Just tell me the truth and get it over with!”
She shouldn’t have. If he hadn’t been so stubborn and he’d followed orders the way he was supposed to, she wouldn’t have had to. All he had to do was go to Matilda. But no! He dug in his heels, then he wouldn’t even let her fire him properly! She’d never known a more frustrating man in her life.
Furious with him, afraid for him, she took the rifle from him and barely resisted the urge to throw it across the barn. “All right, you want the truth, I’ll give it to you!” she snapped as she practically threw the rifle on the workbench. “I don’t know who you are or who sent you, but I know you’re not a down-on-your-luck cowboy looking for work. You came here for one reason and one reason only—my father.”
“Who the hell told you that?”
“You did!”
“I did not!”
“Well, not to my face, no.” When he scowled at her, she told herself she’d be damned if she’d apologize for eavesdropping. He was the one who’d been lying for weeks, not her! “I heard you on your cell phone last night when I went downstairs to get some snacks,” she said defiantly, “so don’t try to pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. I know you’re setting some kind of trap, dammit, and so does my father!”
She should have known he wouldn’t admit it. A man like him didn’t admit anything until his back was to the wall and he had a gun at his head. His gray eyes flinty, he just glared at her.
And for reasons she couldn’t begin to understand, that hurt far more than she’d thought. After what they’d shared, she’d expected at least some version of the truth. Tears gathering in her eyes, she said, “I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t just stand by and let Dad walk into a trap. I was afraid you were going to hurt him. So I called him.”
When he looked at her and didn’t say a word, she turned away, pain squeezing her heart. “You have to leave,” she said huskily. “My father was furious last night—I’ve never heard him so cold. He didn’t tell me what he was going to do to you, but you can’t stick around here to find out. If something happened to you…”
When her voice broke, Steve desperately wanted to believe she cared. But she wouldn’t be the first woman to try to trick him into confessing his mission by pretending not only to have feelings for him, but that she know all about his little secret.
Hesitating, he watched her head for the door and told himself she was just guessing. She couldn’t have possibly heard him last night—he’d hardly spoken ab
ove a whisper, and only then after he was sure she’d gone downstairs.
But even as he argued with himself, he knew she wasn’t lying. She knew too much of what had been said last night—this wasn’t just a shot in the dark to see if she could hit something. And she truly cared about what happened to him. She wasn’t faking that. If he knew anything about the lady, it was that she was honest when it came to her emotions—and everything else, for that matter. He didn’t know how it happened, how he’d let it happen, but he’d come to not only love her, but trust her.
And while it was too soon to say if that was a mistake, for tonight, at least, he believed her. “Wait,” he said sharply. “We need to talk.”
But even as the words left his mouth, he heard a plane overhead and knew they may have just run out of time. “Dammit to hell!”
“Oh, my God, it’s my father!” Lise cried, recognizing the familiar drone of her father’s small jet. Pale and shaken, she ran to him and grabbed his arm. “You’ve got to get out of here! Hurry! Go out the back way. You can escape in the bush.”
“Come with me!”
Shocked, she looked at him as her father’s plane banked overhead to land at the station airstrip in the distance. “Steve…”
“Russell,” he growled. “My real name is Russell Devane. And your father’s is Simon. He leads a double life, Lise. I’m sorry I had to deceive you, but I didn’t have any other choice. Simon’s a dangerous man—he’s responsible for terrorist activities all over the world.”
“No!”
“Yes!” Aware of each tick of the clock, he hurriedly told her about SPEAR and her father’s attempts to bring it and Jonah down. “He’s evil, Lise. You owe him no loyalty. Come with me.”
Torn, she hesitated. Did he have any idea what he was asking of her? What kind of choice he was asking her to make? He was talking about her father, for God’s sake! All her life, she’d wanted his love. Was it possible he was really that kind of monster?
Yes.
Later, she couldn’t have said why she believed him, especially after the way he’d lied to her. But there was a ring of truth to his words that struck a chord deep in her heart. Suddenly, a lot of things made sense that never had before.
“Take Thunder,” she said quickly, tugging him toward the door that opened onto the corral. “He’s the fastest horse we’ve got. I’ll bridle him while you get his saddle.”
Instead of grabbing a saddle, however, he reached for his wallet. Confused, she frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Calling for backup,” he replied grimly, and pulled what looked like an ordinary credit card from his wallet. Pressing on the series of numbers that appeared to be the account number, he patched through a call to his people. “Belinda, the devil’s in hell.”
There was no need to say more, and without another word, he hurriedly returned the space-age device to his wallet. But when he looked up, it wasn’t the phone Lise commented on, as he’d expected. Instead, she said with a small smile, “Belinda’s someone you work with.”
It wasn’t a question, but an observation. There was little point in denying it, he nodded curtly. “She’s my SPEAR contact. She’ll have backup here within fifteen minutes.”
Relieved, Lise only heard the first part of his response. There was no other woman, no other love. Belinda was the woman he kept in contact with when he was on a mission.
Then the rest of his words registered as she heard her father’s plane touch down on the runway. “Fifteen minutes! Oh, God! You can’t wait that long. You’ve got to get out of here!”
Her heart pounding and her only thought to help him get safely away, she rushed to the corral, only to freeze as she automatically glanced at the airstrip. Even before the plane had rolled to a complete stop, armed guards began to pour from it like soldiers invading a foreign land. Dressed in desert camouflage and carrying automatic weapons, they looked combat-ready and deadly.
But it was the man who appeared after the hired thugs at the top of the gangplank who caught her attention and turned her blood to ice. It was her father—or at least, the man who was dressed all in black and held an automatic rifle in his hands like he’d been holding it all his life looked like the man she’d always called Father. But this wasn’t the Art Meldrum she knew. By his stance alone, he looked as cold and ruthless as the devil. And that terrified Lise.
“He’ll kill you if he gets the chance.” She didn’t know how she knew, but at that moment, she realized her father was capable of anything, including murder. He always had been—she hadn’t let herself see that because she’d needed his love so badly.
“Take Thunder and head west,” she said hurriedly as she grabbed the stallion by his bridle and quickly led him into the barn. “It’ll be dark soon. Then you can call your people to pick you up.”
Russell knew she was right. Help was never going to arrive in time. He had to get out of there. But even as he quickly saddled Thunder, everything inside him rebelled at the thought of leaving Lise behind. “I’m not going without you,” he said flatly. “C’mon.”
“But Dad’ll come after you for sure, then,” she argued when he reached for her. “Save yourself.”
“No, dammit! I’m not leaving you.”
He urged her onto Thunder’s back, but before he could step into the stirrups to mount behind her, he heard a sound from the doorway and turned to find Cookie standing there with a pistol that was aimed right at his heart.
“Get out of here, Lise,” the older man growled, never taking his eyes from Russell. “I’ll take care of this riffraff. You go greet your daddy.”
“Don’t hurt him, Cookie,” she pleaded. “I mean it. Put the gun down and let him go.”
His finger on the trigger, every muscle tight with tension, Cookie shook his head. “I can’t. He’s not any good, Lise. I knew that the moment I met him—which is why I’ve been keeping my eye on the bastard. Somebody had to look out for you while your daddy was gone so you wouldn’t get hurt.”
“I’m not hurt,” she insisted. “Look at me! Do I look like I’m hurting?”
Her arms wide, she sat perfectly at ease on Thunder’s back and dared him to find anything wrong with her. Reluctantly, he had to admit she looked fine, but that didn’t change what he had to do. “That doesn’t mean a damn thing. He’s got you so in love with him, you’re not thinking straight. Get off the horse and tie him up. We’ll let your father decide what’s to be done with him.”
“No! Dammit, Cookie, this is none of your business!”
“The hell it’s not. I’ve been watching over you for Art since you were a little girl.”
Caught up in the argument with Lise, he never saw Russell reach for the rifle he’d been cleaning earlier. But Lise did, and although she loved Cookie like a second father, she didn’t say anything to warn him. She couldn’t, not when her father’s men would be closing in any second. This was Russell’s only chance to get away.
“I appreciate that,” she said huskily as tears gathered in her eyes. “But I’m not a little girl anymore.”
Russell grabbed the rifle, and swung it with all his might. The pistol in Cookie’s hand went flying into the dark, shadowy recesses of the barn. “Son of a bitch!” the older man swore, and turned to find the gun.
Russell didn’t wait to see more. Lightning fast, he vaulted onto Thunder’s back behind Lise, who immediately dug her heels into Thunder’s flanks. Startled at the rough treatment, the horse bolted for the open door to the barn like a racehorse heading for the finish line.
“Stop!”
“Let her go, you bastard!”
“I’ll shoot!”
Behind them, Simon’s armed men came running, shouting angrily after them, but they were too late. A shot rang out, but it fell a hundred yards short. Their hearts pounding, Russell and Lise raced into the bush.
For a long moment, the sound of the horse’s hooves faded in the distance. Then Simon began to swear in a hard, cold voice that his hired thugs knew a
ll too well. Warily, they watched him in silence.
“How the hell did this happen?” he demanded icily. “You knew he was in the barn—I checked with Cookie before we landed. Why didn’t you capture him? Were you waiting for a personal invitation or what? Dammit to hell, I want some answers, and I want them now!”
“It’s my fault,” Cookie said gruffly, stepping out of the barn as the station cowboys came running from the dining hall at the ruckus. “I thought I could catch him by surprise and hold him off with a pistol until you got here, but he surprised me and knocked it out of my hand. Before I even knew what hit me, he grabbed Lise and rode off.”
“Who did?” Nate demanded with a scowl. “What’s going on?”
Not one to miss an opportunity, Simon saw the concern in his eyes and those of the other ranch hands and took advantage of it. “The new hand, Trace, just kidnapped Lise and took her into the bush.”
“What!”
“The bastard!”
“Let’s get him! Tuck, get the ammunition from the gun cabinet.”
Pleased that his employees were not only loyal to Lise, but easily manipulated, Simon said, “I appreciate your enthusiasm, men, but you need to know that Steve Trace is a dangerous man. I didn’t know it when I hired him, but he’s wanted in the Caribbean for murder. So be careful out there. He won’t hesitate to kill anyone who gets in his way.”
“He’s got Lise,” Barney said flatly. “I don’t care if he’s killed a dozen men. We can’t let him get away with that.”
“That’s right,” Tuck growled. “Check the rifles and make sure he didn’t sabotage them.”
After that, no one needed to be told what to do. The horses were saddled, rifles checked, ammunition retrieved from the gun cabinet in the house and distributed among the cowboys. Within minutes, every man on the station was astride his mount and ready to ride. Grim with determination, they—and the men Simon had brought with him—were armed with enough firepower to take on an army.
Leading the way into the bush, Simon had a difficult time holding back a smile.