Miranda And The Ranch Hand (Domestic Discipline Romance) (11 page)

When the men got there, they saw the dead cattle, and the little calf Miranda had delivered just barely alive, laying next its dead mother. They found her medical bag and gun lying on the ground. It looked bad.

“Hey, Mickey, take a look over here.” Mickey walked over to where the cowboy had shouted. He saw tracks of four horses headed north, and it looked like there was blood mixed in with the hoof prints.

“All right, Jess, you take that calf back to the barn and put it in with one of the cows. See if she’ll take it. Then go to the house and let Miss Jenna know what we found, and then ride into Austin and get her brothers and some more help back here. We’re going to follow this trail and see where it leads.”

“You got it—man, be careful. These are some nasty desperados, and if any of them are shot, they’ll be meaner than a wounded animal. It’ll probably be tomorrow before I get back with help.”

“We’re just going to see if we can find them—then we’ll wait for back-up if we can.”

Mickey and the other two hands headed north, keeping Windfire with them, hoping Miranda would be able to ride him home. Jess headed off in the other direction with all the speed and urgency he could get from his horse.

* * *

As the morning sunlight snuck through the cracks in the walls at the cabin, Miranda could finally see a little of her surroundings. The room was pretty sparse—there was the cot she lay on and a chair against the wall. The floor was dirt and the cobwebs suggested no one had been there for a while. She guessed she was in one of the old hunting cabins north of the ranch. It would be a perfect hiding place during the summer and fall.

Miranda tried to sit up again. Her head still throbbed and she was dizzy to the point of being nauseated. She didn’t hear voices anymore and wondered if she’d been left behind. She finally managed to stand and was slowly heading to the door, when one of the renegades she’d shot came in.

“And just where do you think you’re going, lady!”

“Please, I just need a drink of water,” she said in the weakest voice she could muster.

“Not so tough without your gun, are you? What do you think, boys? The lady doc wants a little water!” The one John had called Wyatt, and the man who had kidnapped her came into the room.

“Where’s John?” she asked.

“The boss man had some business to take care of. It’s just you and us here now.” The menace in the man’s voice sent a chill up Miranda’s spine. She had patched up the men she shot as best she could last night, but it had been dark and she was no expert on bullet wounds—plus her medical bag was back with the dead cattle. That thought gave her hope. As soon as it was found with the slaughtered cows, the boys would know something was wrong and send for help.

“Come on, boys, we don’t have time for this now. Tie her up. We’ve got a ransom note to deliver.” Wyatt pushed her back down on the cot and then pulled her arms behind her and bound them tightly with heavy rope. Next he tied her feet together and then looped the rope back through her arms so she was trussed up like a calf at rodeo. Miranda couldn’t move without searing pain. Finally they stuffed a bandana in her mouth to gag her.

Then they left, laughing at her useless struggles.

Mickey and his crew were making their way slowly north. They had been following the trail of the four horses and blood for two hours now, and it was getting tougher to find. The renegades had obviously tried to cover their tracks as they’d gotten further north. Finally they lost the trail altogether.

But Mickey wasn’t ready to give up. “I figure they must be hiding out in one of the hunting cabins up here. What’d ya say we split up, and each head toward one of the cabins? Check it out and head back here. We can’t take on those raiders alone, but at least we could find them and then wait for back-up.”

The men agreed and all rode off toward one of the hunting cabins. About an hour and a half later Mickey approached the cabin he was to check out. The first thing he noticed was smoke coming from the chimney. This could be it, he thought. He dismounted and tied his horse to a tree about a hundred yards back. As he started toward the cabin, he saw four men ride up with bandanas covering their faces. They dismounted and tied their horses up to the porch rail. It looked like at least three of them were wounded. They pulled down their bandanas and were laughing and slapping each other on the back.

“I thought that ranch kid was going to pee his pants when we surrounded him.”

“Yeah, I bet he never ran so fast in his life as he did to get that note to old man Townsend. Now what do you say we have some fun with our lady hostage.”

“I told you mangy hound dogs, nobody touches Mandy!” The order came from the trees as a fifth man rode up. Mickey couldn’t believe his eyes. It was John, Jr.! Well, at least he knew Miss Miranda was alive, and probably safe as long as John was in charge. He had to get back to the rendezvous point and get the other men. He didn’t know if the three of them could take these guys, but he wasn’t sure they could wait.

When Mickey got back to the meeting place, the other two men were already there. He told him what he’d seen. They decided they’d wait till nightfall, but no later. If no help arrived, they’d storm the cabin themselves.

As the sun dropped low in the sky, basking the landscape in purple, orange and red, Mickey and the other hands packed up and got ready to head up the to cabin. As they mounted up, they saw a group of riders heading their way fast. Mickey didn’t relax until he could see Marcus and Dylan leading the way. He breathed a major sigh of relief, feeling for the first time that they had a chance of getting Miss Mandy back safe and sound.

“Marcus, you and Dylan and them Rangers are sure a sight for sore eyes! I wasn’t too fired-up about getting myself shot tonight. But how in tarnation did you get here so fast?”

“You did good, Mickey.  All of you. We were already headed back when Jess caught up with us. David and I, as well as the Ranger office, had gotten word that there were more livestock killings on two of the ranches as soon as we started across the river with the herds.”

“Well they got to us last night—and Miss Mandy must have caught ’em in the act. It appears at least three of them were shot, and it looked like she managed to cut open the one cow and deliver the calf before they nabbed her.”

Dylan sighed heavily through his anger. “That sounds like Mandy.”

“She’s a crack shot, so if she had the chance, I’m sure she’s the one who gave those bandits a taste of lead,” Marcus said.

“There’s something else you need to know, boss. I couldn’t hardly believe it myself, if I hadn’t seen with my own eyes. But it looks like John, Jr. is heading up this band of varmints.”

“What! That’s crazy—Towns End has lost as many animals as any of us!” David exclaimed.

Dylan responded, “Yeah, but if this is about statehood, as some of us have suspected, that’s powerful motivation. And what better way to keep suspicion off yourself, than making sure you’re also a target.”

“Enough talk—let’s ride. I don’t want my sister in those renegades’ hands a minute longer!” And with that Marcus took off, with Dylan and the others close at his heels.

Back at the cabin, John was cutting the ropes that bound Miranda. “Mandy, I’m so sorry they did this to you.” He cringed as he took her wrists and saw they were rubbed raw by rope burns. She could barely move even when she was untied because her muscles were so badly cramped.

“John, I still don’t understand why you’re with those vile men! No cause is worth all this bloodshed. All this killing—it’s a coward’s way of making your point.”

He didn’t say anything, just stomped out into the main room to fetch water and something he could use as bandages. The other men ignored him as they went about cooking up something to eat. He came back to Miranda and tenderly washed and bandaged her wrists and ankles. Despite his gentle touch, she could see the tension etched in his face.

When he finished, he looked at her. There was a hardness in his eyes she’d never seen before. “Mandy, I don’t expect you to understand. You’ve lead a sheltered, pampered life on the Double-R. You haven’t seen any of the poverty and struggles of small farmers and merchants trying to rebuild their lives after the war, with nowhere to sell their goods because the Union won’t buy former Confederate goods—or the butchering of people down south in Mexican raids because we can’t protect our borders.”

Miranda was stunned by the depth of feeling in his words. She was about to reach out to him when they heard a commotion outside.

“You’re surrounded by Texas Rangers. Come out peacefully and no one gets hurt.”

It was Dylan’s voice and Miranda could have wept with relief. “Please, John… give this up and take me out. I don’t want you getting hurt.” But the renegades in the other room had already started shooting.

“Mandy, get down! I’ll try to stop this.”

“No, John, you’ll be killed!”

Someone kicked the door it – Wyatt! Mandy lunged off the bed, ducking just in case one of the bullets flying around outside should come through a window. Wyatt stopped across the room with quick strides and grabbed her by an arm, hauling her up to his chest.

“They’ll stop shooting if I bring you to the door!”

“Leave her alone, Wyatt!” John grabbed her other arm and tried to pull her away. Bullets pinged all around the cabin. Miranda felt a sharp sting in her arm but the pain was immediately overshadowed when she saw Wyatt point his gun at John and fire. John went down, shot in the chest. Miranda buckled her knees, pulling free from Wyatt. She grabbed John’s gun and shot Wyatt before he could reload and get another shot off.

Miranda stared at the blood staining John’s shirt, tears streaming down her face.

“You’re shot, Mandy…” he stuttered, seemingly oblivious to his own life’s blood seeping away.

“Oh, John, please hold on. Don’t die—I couldn’t bear losing my best friend.” She put as much pressure on his chest as she could, but it was too late.

She was still applying pressure and begging him to wake up when Dylan reached her. He lifted her off John’s body. “Mandy, honey, he’s dead.”

“No! No! John, you can’t die.” She was sobbing and fighting Dylan with what little strength she had left. “This is all so wrong—he can’t be dead!” She cried hysterically.

Dylan knew she was on the verge of shock. He took her firmly by the shoulders and shook her hard. “Mandy, stop it!” The commanding tone of his voice broke through her hysteria and she finally looked up at him and then collapsed, sobbing, into his arms.

Marcus and David were right behind him. “My God, she’s covered in blood—was she shot?”

“I don’t think so, but she was trying to stop the bleeding on John’s chest wound. Let’s get her out into the main room where there’s more light, so I can check her out. At the very least she’s partially in shock—and there are bandages on her wrists and ankles.”

Dylan carried Miranda out to the main room and sat her down on the table—staying very close. She was vaguely aware of Mickey and the other hands, as well as some other Rangers carrying out the bodies of the renegades.

“Mandy, can you hear me—tell me where you hurt.”

She looked up into Dylan’s eyes and drew strength from the love and concern she saw there—then she saw her brothers. “Oh Marcus! David—it was John! It’s just too awful…”

“I know, Mandy, I can’t believe it myself. Can you tell us what happened?” Marcus asked softly, trying to focus her attention, while Dylan examined her for injuries.

She started to pour out the whole story, wincing as Dylan cleaned up her arm where a bullet grazed it, and then looked over the raw rope burns on her wrists and ankles. Finally he saw the huge bruise and bump on the back of her head.

“I swear if those desperados weren’t already dead,” he muttered under his breath. Out loud he said, “We’ve got to get her to a doctor, to make sure she doesn’t have a concussion—that’s a pretty nasty bump on the back of your head, my dear.”

“It’s giving me a pretty nasty headache, too. But seriously, I’m all right—just bumps and bruises that will all heal.”

“Yeah, with bed rest and a doctor’s care!” Dylan said firmly.

“Dylan, Marcus— wait! You have to make me a promise.”

“I promise to get you the care you need and make sure you follow the doctor’s orders to the letter, young lady. Now let’s get out of here.”

“No! I’m not going anywhere till we settle something important.”

Dylan was already on a short fuse because of what those varmints had done to Miranda, and now she was trying his patience. “Miranda, unless you want to add a sore bottom to your other aches and pains, I suggest you cooperate and let us take care of you.”

“Dammit Dylan, stop being the bossy Ranger for one minute and listen to me!” She tried to jump down off the table to make her point, but was immediately struck with a wave of dizziness.

“Whoa, there, sis! You might want to wait till you’re a little stronger before you go and take on the Rangers—especially that one you’re married to.” David had grabbed her arm to steady her and helped her sit back down in a chair.

She put her head down into her hands to stop the room from spinning. When she looked up, Dylan had squatted down to meet her eye to eye. “Mandy, please, we need to get you to a doctor,” he was almost pleading with her.