Bridal Falls Ranch Ransom (8 page)

“Yes. But I can’t let you go charging down there and maybe right into the sniper’s trap. We don’t know who knocked him off his ride.”

She sobered. He was right. It could be some sick trick, conjured to draw them in so he could take them out.

Reaching back, J.P. popped the snap on his holster and withdrew the pistol. “Take this.”

Reaching out she locked her hand around the butt of the pistol.

“I’ll use Devon’s rifle.” He leaned out over Devon’s horse and pulled a long gun out of the saddle scabbard. “Better odds.”

Eve nodded, and together they urged their horses forward at a trot. She watched the left side of the trail. J.P. covered the right.

They reached Devon’s motionless body in a matter of minutes.

“You check him out. I’ll stand guard.”

She handed J.P. his .41, and he slipped it into its holster. Climbing down out of the saddle, she hurried over and went to her knees next to Devon Hall. Even in the gray-dark, she could see he’d been clubbed on the right side of his head. Blood oozed from a nasty gash resembling the end butt of a rifle. It was surrounded by deep bruising. He’d taken a vicious blow to his brain. Fear skated over her nerves, carving desperation into her thoughts.

“Devon! Devon, wake up. It’s Eve. Devon, can you hear me?” Reaching out, she pressed her hand to his shoulder, feeling his warmth penetrate her palm. A good sign.

“Devon,” she coaxed, giving him a gentle shake.

A low moan rumbled from her ranch foreman, followed by a string of garbled words.

She shook him again. “Devon, it’s Eve. What happened?”

“He’s been here awhile,” J.P. said as he scanned the surrounding woods for the sniper, then dismounted, rifle in hand. “The blood had time to coagulate. Devon must have ridden into our shooter right after the man left the falls.”

Kneeling down, he pressed his middle and index fingers to Devon’s wrist, feeling a strong pulse thump under his fingertips. “Good pulse, but he’s going to need a ride in the back of an ambulance and recovery time.”

Putting the rifle aside, J.P. worked his arms around the ranch foreman and gently dragged him up into a sitting position. “Devon, buddy. Can you hear me?”

“Damn right...what the...” Devon listed to the left, but J.P. steadied him before he could tumble over.

“You were bushwhacked, Devon. My guess is with the butt of a .308.”

“We’ve got to get him back to the ranch. I’m responsible for this. If anything happens to him...” Her statement trailed off, leaving the guilt in her voice to ruminate inside his head. He studied her outline against the night sky.

For all of her financial might and ability to keep her face hidden from the world, she still cared about others over and above her own insecurities. A chink in her mask? A way to change her perception of herself?

A shout in the distance brought his attention up. He reached for the rifle next to him.

“Hall! Devon Hall!”

The thud of horse hooves on the trail out in front of them accompanied a blade of light.

Eve scrambled to her feet, recognizing the deep note in Tyler Spangler’s voice. “Tyler! Over here.”

“Miss Brooks?” The flashlight beam swept out past them, then pulled back, finally settling on their location.

“Holy cow.” Tyler reined in his horse and bailed out of the saddle. “What happened to Hall?”

“Are you alone?” J.P. eyed the cowpoke in the glare of the flashlight beam Tyler had trained on Devon.

“No. Buck’s a furlong back and Ruckus is with him. We’ve been combing the woods for y’all since nightfall.”

“Thank goodness,” Eve whispered as she reached up and pulled the veil down over her face. She’d gotten so wrapped up in trying to help Devon, she’d forgotten to hide her tragedy.

“He needs medical attention,” she said, infusing her voice with a note of authority she didn’t quite feel. “Ride out and find Ruckus. Send him and Buck back here so we can get Devon on his horse and keep him there. Then head for the ranch and call an ambulance. I want it there by the time we arrive.”

J.P. stared up at Tyler. “Call the sheriff while you’re at it. Devon was assaulted.”

“This wasn’t an accident?” Tyler asked.

“No, it wasn’t. Someone deliberately tried to hurt him.”

Eve straightened her spine, thankful J.P. was willing to involve the county sheriff. It could help them discover who’d done the shooting.

Tyler handed her his flashlight, shoved his booted foot into a stirrup and climbed aboard his big bay horse. “I’ll ride as hard as I can, Miss Brooks.”

“I know you will.”

Tyler spurred his horse forward and gave him his head. The powerful animal lunged into a gallop.

Eve squelched a shiver, watching horse and rider melt into the darkness like an apparition, leaving only the clatter of hoofbeats behind them. Had Tyler Spangler seen her face? Stared at the ugly scars marring her skin, with the intention of informing every cowboy from here to Timbuktu, that the beautiful Eve Brooks wasn’t so beautiful anymore?

A scintilla of acceptance skated across her nerves. Did it really matter what anyone else thought in the scheme of her life? Puzzled by the reflection, she turned back to where J.P. sat next to Devon, holding him upright. She sank to her knees next to them, to wait for Buck and Ruckus to come, and prayed Devon Hall was going to be all right.

Chapter Eight

Red and white strobe lights flashed across the ranch’s structures, giving them a citified feel. The sensation took root in the pit of J.P.’s stomach. This place was pristine, innocent. But not tonight, not under the threat of sniper fire and bodily harm. It felt too much like L.A.

The EMTs helped Devon Hall onto a gurney and loaded him into the back of the ambulance, where they checked his vital signs and put a precautionary neck brace on him to stabilize his spine.

Eve had been whisked away by a frantic Edith Weber the instant they’d dismounted and tied up their horses next to the barn. It was better for her to remain above the fray, at least for now. But they’d set up a rendezvous time for later, after things wound down.

“J.P.”

“Yeah.” He turned to find a breathless Tyler Spangler standing next to him.

“The sheriff’s office is dispatching a couple of deputies, one here to the ranch and one to the hospital.”

“Good. Maybe he can track the bastard who did this with the evidence I collected out at Bridal Falls.”

“But Devon wasn’t anywhere near the falls when you found him.”

“Someone took some potshots at Miss Brooks and I this afternoon at the falls. He left a hunting knife stabbed through her sketch pad. Took off after the incident, and less than an hour later we found Devon in the middle of the trail. The two attacks have to be linked. Hall must have stumbled upon him.”

“Damn,” Tyler whispered, his gaze turning toward the back of the ambulance.

“I only hope he saw the thug before lights-out and he’ll be able to identify him.”

“You J.P. Ryker?”

He glanced up at the EMT framed in the rear doors of the ambulance.

“Yeah.”

“You can speak with Mr. Hall now, but we roll in a couple of minutes.”

“I won’t be long.” He stepped up and climbed into the back of the vehicle then took a spot on the bench seat parallel to the gurney.

The medics had raised the gurney into a sitting position, making it easier for him to see that Devon Hall looked like hell under the overhead lighting. The swelling caused by the blow had steadily expanded to include his right eye. Only a sliver of iris peeked out from between the puffy lids.

“They’re going to patch you up, Hall. You’ll be back in the saddle in a couple of days.” He studied the ranch foreman, who’d been bobbing and weaving in and out of consciousness like a jaywalker through L.A. traffic. Not a good sign. He had a concussion.

“Sheriff Adams is sending a deputy to take your statement at the hospital in Cascade.”

“Ain’t much to state. I never saw the SOB who hit me.”

J.P. leaned closer. “Can you remember anything, Devon? Anything at all? A sound, a feeling. Was he on horseback or on foot?”

Hall closed his good eye for a moment, leaving J.P. to wonder if he’d lost him to coma, or recall.

Devon’s good eye flicked open. “Rifle butt. Saw it out of the corner of my eye a second before the impact rattled my jaw.”

“Anything else? Anything that could help us nail this bastard?”

“Blue.” Devon cleared his throat. “His shirt sleeve was blue.”

Tension coiled around J.P.’s nerves, leaving him ready to strike. All the evidence suggested the sniper had been on foot. He’d never heard the distinct thud of hooves. It would have been much easier for the thug to hide, to lay in wait until the target got within striking range. Now he knew for certain the shooter who’d tried to take them out was the same man who’d assaulted Devon Hall along the trail.

“The crew, Devon. Can you account for each and every one of them?”

“Dang right. We pushed cows all day. Cleared the west pasture.”

“Does that include the temps you hired for branding?”

“Every one of ’em.”

A couple of thumps on the side of the ambulance signaled the driver needed to roll.

J.P. stood up, stepped to the rear of the vehicle and climbed out. “Hang in there, buddy. Someone will be in to check on you at the hospital in the morning.”

“Okay.” Devon raised his hand in a single wave and closed his good eye.

The EMT secured the rear doors, went around to the driver’s side and climbed in.

J.P. watched the ambulance roll away with the Bridal Falls foreman in the back. It could just as easily have been Eve or himself, if they’d even survived the gunshot. Bone tired, he realized it had been one mean day and they’d all survived.

So far.

He turned and headed for the hitching post where he’d tied up his horse. The deputy would arrive soon, and he planned to turn over the knife and bloody sketch pad to the officer along with his statement.

A measure of doubt glided across his nerves. Next he’d have to convince Eve it would be okay to bring in the local authorities on her case. More pairs of eyes on the situation would be a good thing, not to mention the resources that could come along with them.

The hitching post was empty.

“Hey, Ryker, wait up,” Tyler hollered.

J.P. slowed his pace until the cowboy caught up. “Where are the horses?”

“The crew put them up an hour ago.”

He nodded but couldn’t squelch the rising worry in his bloodstream. “I’ve got this, Spangler. Just need to get something out of my saddlebags.”

“Sure. I’ll hang out and wait for the deputy to get here.”

“Yeah.” Focused on the entrance into the barn, he listened to Tyler move away from him and cross the driveway behind the lodge.

Light glared inside the massive barn from a series of overhead fixtures hanging from the ceiling. Horses shuffled in their stalls, still agitated by the evening’s events.

J.P. headed straight for the tack room and the saddlebags his horse had carried.

Stepping inside, he flipped on the light switch next to the door and spotted the saddle he used on the rack next to Eve’s.

A tantalizing mental image swam in his head, of her beautiful face in a sheen of water, the feel of her lips. His blood stirred hot and heavy.

Anxious to dial back the increased hammering of his heartbeat, he pushed the image out of his mind as he stepped in next to the saddle. Reaching out, he undid the buckle on the leather bag on the right side. The evidence it contained could blow his investigation wide open and possibly lead him to the kidnapper.

The hairs on the back of his neck bristled as he eased his hand into the bottom of the bag.

Empty.

Frustrated, he leaned across and unfastened the buckle on the left-hand side, reached in and found it empty, too.

“Dammit.” Rocking back, he eyed the bags on Eve’s saddle. There wasn’t a chance it was there, but he checked anyway. Empty, too.

“Ryker! Deputy’s here,” Tyler hollered from somewhere behind him.

He gritted his teeth, turned and left the tack room. Was it possible the shooter still lurked somewhere nearby in the cover of darkness? Had he waited for an opportune moment to steal back evidence that could convict him?

Stepping out of the tack room, he spotted Tyler Spangler’s retreating back as he exited the barn. It could just as easily have been someone on the crew.

Caution edged his thoughts as he walked toward the deputy standing next to his rig. Eve was in more danger now, and he could use all the help available. Including the local authorities.

Digging into his jeans pocket, he pulled out the shell casing. At least he still had it, and within a few minutes it would be in the hands of the local authorities.

* * *

E
ve pushed back in the
porch swing and filled her lungs with night air. There was no veiled hat tonight. No scarf wrapped strategically across the top of her head and over the remains of the left side of her face. Instead, she’d applied a series of pressure dressings over her skin grafts. It was an option to total exposure and she’d made her peace with it upstairs in front of the bathroom mirror, but it was also the catalyst for the decision she’d made tonight.

She heard J.P.’s approach before she saw him, boots rustling across the grass, then tall and imposing against the light of the stars overhead.

“So this is where you hole up at night when you’re not out galloping around.”

“Pretty much.” She patted the seat next to her and gave up a measure of emotional cover as he sat down on the swing. Every nerve ending in her body started to drum, and she was instantly aware of the length of his thigh pressed against hers.

“I wonder how Devon is doing.” She knew he was in good hands at the hospital, but she needed an entrance into a conversation she intended to steer.

“I’ll find out in the morning right after I meet with Sheriff Adams.”

An involuntary shudder rippled through her. “I didn’t want the locals involved in the kidnapping threats. I wanted to maintain a level of anonymity. How far into this are you going to drag him?”

“As far as necessary. Devon’s assault and the potshots the assailant took at us up at the falls are both well within his jurisdiction. We can’t prevent him from investigating now that someone has been hurt. He might even bring in a forensics team to try and recover bullet fragments if they can locate them.”

“I know one dang near took the toe off my boot.”

“Dang near?” His voice held a note of curiosity. More a question than an observation.

“What? You don’t think that’s close enough? I like my toes. I’m glad they’re still attached.”

“He could have drilled me with his first shot. He got the drop on us. He had a scope on his rifle. That’s how I spotted his location on the slope.”

“You think he intentionally missed? Why would he do that?”

“It raised the threat level in your mind. Could be a psychological game. I can take you out anytime I want, therefore you better give me what I want, or else.”

“He let us live, but he bashed Devon’s head in?” Fear attached itself to her nerves, growing a knot in her stomach.

“Devon was in the right place at the wrong time, or maybe something a little more simple. Devon may have been able to identify him if he’d have come across him on the trail.”

Eve sucked in a labored breath and let it out slowly, feeling tension lock the muscles tight between her shoulder blades.

“There’s something else you need to know.”

“What?”

“The knife and sketch pad we recovered went missing tonight from my saddlebag.”

A groan escaped from between her lips and set her pulse to pounding in her chest. “He could be here right now? On the ranch?”

“Yes.”

“I’m coming with you into town tomorrow.” Had those words really come out of her mouth, she wondered as she picked out a particular star in the night sky and trained her eyes on it.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. He’s my foreman. He works for me. It happened on my land. It’s the least I can do.” Apprehension glided through her. She hadn’t been to town since her arrival at the ranch in the cover of darkness. Too many questions, too many challenges, not enough courage.

“Then you’ll need to fill out this written-statement form tonight so I can give it to the sheriff in the morning.”

“Okay.” She reached out and took the folded sheet of paper from his grasp. Pulling herself together, she shifted her focus on J.P., desperate to avoid the myriad of conflicting emotions certain to tag along on the trip.

“I’ve made another decision. As long as this creep is at large and willing to perforate me, us, I want you to move into the lodge. I’m going to have Edith prepare the room down the hall from mine.” She hesitated, waiting for a refusal that never came. Instead he sat in the darkness next to her and remained silent.

Flustered, she pushed up from the swing and went to the railing at the edge of the porch. With her back to him she offered up the confession that had stirred in her mind since the day he’d arrived at Bridal Falls Ranch.

“You make me feel safe, J.P. I know I can trust you to be honest with me.”

“That, and I’ve seen your face.”

“Exactly.” Shoot, she’d stepped in a puddle of his extreme reasoning again.

“You don’t have to work to convince me, Eve. You hired me. I’m here to protect you. If you wanted me to stand guard on the peak of the barn roof in my boxers, I’d be obligated to comply.”

She turned around, watching him come to his feet in front of her like some sort of ancient warrior. A jolt of desire liquefied in her veins, sending need throughout her entire body. Thanks to him and that kiss behind the falls this afternoon, she knew there were parts of her left that were still all woman.

“Tomorrow morning then.” He moved close to her, so close she could smell the desire coming from his body. Warm, male and charged with sexual heat.

He tipped his hat and stepped off the porch.

Sucking in a breath before she passed out, overheated on passion, she hurried to the front door of the lodge, pulled it open and stepped inside.

* * *

“W
ay to go
, R
yker
,” he scolded himself as he finished a third trip around the perimeter of the barn, working to get his raging libido under control in the crisp night air.

Wanting the boss wasn’t in his play book
.

Worried, he tried to determine if desire had replaced his sense of duty where Eve Brooks was concerned. If so, then why in the blazes had he ever consented to move into the lodge?

He turned north and headed for his bunk room. She was well within her comfort zone, asking him to move closer for protection’s sake. It didn’t matter that she’d just breeched his.

He clamped his teeth down on a string of profanity decidedly aimed at his own lack of control. He would have kissed her again tonight, but for one nagging truth.

She claimed he made her feel safe. Would she still feel that way if she knew the truth about his role in her half sister Shelly’s kidnapping case? Or just how tragically that sense of security had worked out for her and her family?

Devoted to his internal rant, he nearly collided with Tyler Spangler halfway between the barn and bunk row.

“Ryker. What are you still doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Eyeing the ranch hand, he noted the .22 rifle clenched in his hands. “Hunting?”