Protecting Their Child (5 page)

Chapter Five

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

He’d heard that saying throughout his lifetime. Each member of his family had bragged on how they’d made it through the Depression, more than one world war. Men and women had sacrificed so he could walk the land he worked every day.

This barn had been erected by his father and fellow ranchers. A monument to the prosperity of the times. The tack room had been his refuge growing up. Now the whole place housed more broken-down junk and car parts than horses. And at the moment, Serna and two of his men.

It didn’t matter how bad the situation had become, no one from any part of his life would approve of the lethal men he was “in bed” with now. Drug gangs. Murderers. Men who didn’t think twice about taking a life and leaving the body somewhere to rot.

He knew the risks. He also knew what would have happened if he hadn’t agreed.
He’d
be one of those bodies rotting somewhere to be discovered by a stray desert hiker.

He watched Serna’s show from the corner of the tack room, careful not to turn his back on his partners of the past four years. Hopefully, they didn’t notice how tense he stood waiting to be spoken to. Probably never noticed that he kept his .357 shoved under a pile of broken harnesses, easily within one step.

Watching this gang leader lose control reminded him of what type of men his “business” partners were. He didn’t trust any of them and wanted out. Hell, he’d never wanted in. Another saying of his grandmother’s popped into his head. Bargain with the devil—or his agents—and you’re gonna get burned. But that was the price you paid when things were going belly-up and there were no options left.

“They couldn’t have disappeared. I told you, they were going to that thing they call a lodge,” Serna spit into the cell. The newly released state felon ranted, waving his arms in his sharply pressed stripped shirt. Ironic that the stripes were heading the opposite direction than the prison bars he’d been wearing until yesterday.

If McCrea was at the lodge, he wasn’t worried. He hadn’t wanted a money trail and had accepted payment of another kind. His personal stash of heroin was hidden but no one had found it for four years. Nothing to pin him to the gang once he got rid of the burner phone.

“I told you McCrea is the number-one priority. Doesn’t anyone listen to me? No! Bring him to me alive. I want to rip his head from his freakin’ Ranger’s neck and spit down his stinkin’ throat.” Serna clicked more buttons and finally slid the new phone into his back pocket.

He stood there. Waiting for Serna to state what he needed.

“Those incompetents working for me will receive the same if they don’t find that cowboy and his whore soon. The entire schedule will be thrown off. They should have waited and taken them all out at ranch.”

He waited for one of Serna’s men to answer or explain why that had been impossible after Serna had threated McCrea at the courthouse. No one dared.

And neither did he.

Serna might not kill him, but pissing him off right before this last shipment wasn’t part of the plan, either. Making a boatload of money and blaming someone else—the Danvers were as good as anyone else.
That
was the plan. And if poor little Kate got caught in the crosshairs again...so be it. No skin off his nose.

“What? No one feels like talkin’ to me,” Serna declared with no question in his angry bellow.

“We’re waitin’ on orders, Boss,” one young man in the back sheepishly mewed.

“I order you out. Go! Leave!” Serna touched the handle of his pistol tucked in the front of his pants.

The lead minion couldn’t find the door handle fast enough before the four men bunched to a stop trying to figure out how to get out. Serna threw back his head, laughing. The heavy wood swung shut on its own accord.

Serna sauntered toward him. “So cool. Never acting afraid.”

He stood in his corner, forcing his expression to remain the same. He shifted his weight closer to his weapon, itching to take it and shoot the scum dead. But he was a necessary evil to finish his plan. He’d dealt with middlemen while Serna had been in jail. Things had gone easier after Serna had gone to jail and vowed to kill McCrea. On a personal level, he only wanted the Ranger out of the way so Kate would be gone, too.

Dealing with this mad dog in front of him had grown tiresome fast. Mad dog? Yes. Continuously high on a cocktail of drugs, consistently popping more pills. It was amazing Serna had ever accomplished any type of workable drug smuggling across the border. And nothing on the scale of what they were attempting.

“Do I have a reason to fear you?” he asked more coolly than he’d thought. The sweat under his arms and the line gathering to trickle down his spine physically showed the truth.

“My friend...”

I’m not your friend.

“Things have been going good, yes?”

“I’m not complaining.”

“Did you know about the little—” he pursed his lips together and shrugged “—shortage I was told about last week?”

“No shortage. You were told where the drugs are. We thought it better not to go in so close to your hearing.”
It was also part of the plan.
“We’ll move it with the rest.”

“Then why not continue our arrangement? So much time and energy wasted finding a new route.”

“You know why,
friend.
The DEA is getting too close for horseshoes and grenades.”

“They haven’t discovered us in four years’ time.” Serna’s eyes were dilated and when he faced the early-morning sunlight, he pulled his mirrored shades to his nose. “What makes you so certain that they’re getting...closer.”

The drug addict patted his shoulder in a demeaning way, fingering the grip of the gun at his waist. Trying to command the situation. Serna had no idea he’d been used in this carefully constructed relationship.

When the DEA found the cave—and they would find the cave—the gang would take the fall. A means to an end to restore his financial stability. An end he’d wanted for many years.

I’m a small pawn in the overall picture and Feds will love to give me immunity for what I know about your organization. Serna, you are so screwed.

He wanted to shout the truth. Wanted to bark it back at this doper just what kind of a mistake he’d made forcing him into this situation. He kept his voice low and calm, saying, “Let’s get this shipment taken care of and worry about the rest later.”

It was dangerously close to the time hands would begin showing up for work. Should Serna be reminded he didn’t want to be seen here by anyone? Five more minutes and he’d have to tell—or ask—him to leave.

“I agree,
amigo
. But first, we take care of our runaway couple. Edward!” Serna faced the door, waiting on one of the men to reenter the room. “This is exhausting for me.”

“You need something, Boss?” The youngest, who’d dared to speak earlier, kept one foot out of the room.

“Time to get moving.” Serna spoke more Spanish, lower, loud enough only for Edward to hear, nod and leave. “McCrea will be found and dealt with. You’re certain they’ll head across the mountains?”

“Everyone knows David’s at his son’s place. If they need help, that leaves the friendly neighboring Burke ranch. We wouldn’t be looking for them if your guys had taken them out at the shack.”

The look of hatred on Serna’s face accentuated the prominent lines of droopy skin, the yellowish tint of his eyes. He wasn’t healthy, but of course, he was a drug addict of the worse sort. The question wasn’t his physical health...just his mental. Was he stable enough to finish?

“Do not piss me off,
amigo.
” Serna paused his exit, slowly sliding his arms into his jacket, always playing the role of some huge crime lord. How laughable.

His jaw popped as he gritted his teeth, his eyes narrowed to slits. “Nothing else matters to me until that bastard is dying a slow death while he watches me kill the one thing he loves more than his own life.”

“I have no problem with that. If McCrea’s alive, the operation is at risk.”

No problem at all.
He was only here for the money.

Chapter Six

Cord had never been good at waiting. For months doctors and physical therapists had instructed him to be patient. Don’t rush things. Don’t push his legs too far. Even his father and mother had warned him.

The minutes ticked by. No one reached for the gas.

His legs cramped. The shaky sticks weren’t one hundred percent. He hadn’t passed the physical test to requalify but none of that mattered. If he failed, Kate would die.

Their child would die.

So to quote whoever said it first, “failure was not an option.”

Option one—sand in the gas tanks, seize up the engines. ATVs couldn’t follow when they rode out on horses. Chopper still could. He’d take out the pilot or engine with rifle cover.

Then run to the top of the ridge? On these legs?

What was he thinking?

Option two—shoot everyone. There couldn’t be that many—they’d come in a chopper loaded with extra weight. Three or four men tops. What type of weapons did they have? Was Serna with them? Could he even get to the entrance without being seen?

I’m blind in this cave.

Option three—wait. Not his favorite option. Kate was most likely going nuts on the rim. Would she wait? He’d reminded her of the baby; maybe she would listen this time. Unlike getting out of the car when they’d been ambushed three years ago.

Damn...not now.

The memory of the shooting rushed into his mind. Once there he couldn’t get away from it. It was so real, taking over his optic nerves and replaying in slow motion in front of him. He saw the gun barrels. Heard the shouts to shoot Kate. Yelled at her to get down. He turned to protect her....

Searing fire in his back, then nothing.

Kate screamed, kept screaming his name. He could still move his hands, his fingers still gripped his weapon. “Roll me over, Kathleen.”

She’d nodded, the fright vivid in her beautiful, tear-filled eyes.

“Wait until he’s on top of us,” he whispered.

Concentrating only on Kate’s face, he’d stayed conscious for her. She rolled him. He’d ignored the pain but could remember it now, wincing at the vivid memory. Then he’d squeezed the trigger, shooting Ronaldo Serna between the eyes. The second man with him must have been stunned, pausing just long enough for Cord to get a second shot off, severely wounding him.

No repeat performance. Kate was screaming now. She was up on a ledge waiting for him. He would get out of this bear hole without being shot. He wasn’t doing that to Kate or his child. He just needed options.

A real shot echoed through the box canyon. Men scrambled. Bullets connected with metal.

Kate hadn’t waited. Or she’d waited long enough. He rolled over the crates and prayed his legs wouldn’t buckle when he hit the earth floor. They held and he shoved his back to the wall at the cave entrance.

First guy through the entrance he coldcocked in the face. Out cold on the rocks.

Second guy backed through the entrance, tripped over the body of the first and raised his face into the barrel of Cord’s weapon. He raised his hands in the air, letting the machine pistol hang across his shoulder.

“Drop it.”

The guy shrugged.

“Don’t let the uniform fool you. This is personal and I’ll drop you like the jackal you are. Now take the strap over your head and stop pretending you don’t understand.”

The man complied and Cord kicked the gun into the sunlight. He used his belt to immobilize the man’s hands and feet and dragged him to the back of the cave by the gas cans. He lacked time to do anything else. He slung the machine pistol across his chest and positioned himself behind the ATV. Still hidden to the chopper pilot, he heard Kate’s rifle between the rapid firing of another automatic.

There were shouts in Spanish calling from the chopper to the cave asking where they were. The gunfire didn’t stop. From his view he couldn’t find Kate on the ridge.

* * *

O
NE
LONE
SHOT
pierced the silence and then nothing.

“Cord!” Kate shouted. “Are you alive?”

“I’m good.” He kept low to the ground and zigzagged to the chopper.

“Good. I think I...I killed him.” Her voice shook—he could hear it even at this distance. “He’s not moving. I haven’t seen him move.”

One glance at the pilot and he didn’t need to take a pulse. He’d been shot in the throat. He waved his arm at Kate. He still couldn’t see her. He couldn’t find the fourth guy. Where had he run? And if the man had heard him shouting at Kate...

Rapid gunfire from the cave took down the pole and the tarp collapsed. He fell flat and used the chopper as cover. The edge of the tarp dropped and blew across the ground, but bullets pummeled the rock face behind him. He lifted the machine pistol and pulled the trigger, hearing his own spray of bullets bite through the camouflage. A short curse and then silence.

They’d broken free inside the cave, found another weapon and now were dead. He checked the bodies for a pulse. None. And no ID. Where was the fourth man?

“What the hell does Serna have planned?” No more time to search the crates. He had to find that fourth guy. They needed to get out of there and fast. It would take them several hours to get to Nick’s without a vehicle. They could have used the water for the horses, but he had no way to carry it up that ridge. They’d have to take the trek slow, hiding their movements.

When he edged from the cave, he saw the bastard picking his way to the top of the ledge.

“Kate!” he shouted, running to the bottom of the trail.

Maybe she’d seen him, couldn’t get a shot from her angle with the rifle. Cord aimed the MAC-10, squeezed the trigger on the inaccurate weapon and nothing. The magazine was empty. He wasn’t close enough to use his 9mm so he had one choice. Climb.

The steep incline he’d used before would be easier but longer. Straight in front of him, there wasn’t a path, but the incline wasn’t completely perpendicular. He could get there before the fourth man.

He pushed hard. No sound from Kate. His blood pumped hard from the strain. Little sleep and hours on horseback had taken its toll on his body, but he pushed up the hill, shouting for Kate and not receiving an answer.

A cramp seized his back. He bent forward, stretching and praying for it to end. He had to get back to Kate but he had to stop this man first. He pushed harder and evened up with the man on the side of the canyon. He ran toward the guy, ignoring when his feet slipped on the uneven hill. The small pebbles were dangerous, but he dug his boots into the soft earth, maintaining his balance.

As soon as he was in range he pulled his weapon from his waistband. “Hold it.”

The fourth man pivoted to escape.

“Come on, man, you’ve got nowhere to run! Drop the gun.”

Fourth guy stopped, began turning, but his hands weren’t in the air. Cord dropped hard to his knees, steadying his weapon. The fourth guy began firing as he turned. Cord pulled the trigger, hitting his target and planting his face in the dirt until the machine pistol was silent.

He looked up in time to see the fourth guy tumbling down the incline to the canyon floor below. The body rested at an odd angle and didn’t move.

Even if he had time to check the crates or hide the bodies, he didn’t think he could make the climb up again. He had to think of Kate. No more delays.

His body felt as tough as a marshmallow. He took the remainder of the easier trail as fast as his wobbly legs would carry him.

“Kate?” She didn’t answer. He knew what was wrong as soon as he topped the ridge and saw her lying on the ground. She was still under a bush, still gripping the rifle, finger still on the trigger. Her grip released as soon as he touched the barrel. She covered her face with her hands, dropping her head to the dirt.

She’d shot a man.

Dead.

Cord stretched out beside her, pulling her to him, ignoring the rocks, his shaky muscles and his sore shoulder. Even ignoring that he hadn’t held her in his arms for five months and how much he’d missed her.

It wasn’t about him.

She’d just killed a man.

“Kate, honey, you did what you had to do. Those men would have killed us.”

“Is he really dead?” she asked between soft hiccups.

His Kate always got the hiccups when she cried.

“Don’t lose any tears or sleep over this guy, Kate. He’s not worth it.”

“Every life is worth it, Cord.” She shoved him an arm’s length away. “
Every
life.”

“Go ahead and get mad at me if that’s what it takes.” They sat up, shoulder to shoulder, looking toward the high plains and Davis Mountains. “You can’t be certain it was your bullet. Could have been mine.”

“You were firing?”

He hadn’t been. He’d never admit it, but nodded affirmation.

“I thought...before it all happened, I was so confident. I didn’t think I’d...but when he turned toward you, I couldn’t just watch you get shot again.” She dropped her face back into her hands, drawing her knees to her chest. “I just couldn’t go through that again. So I pulled the...you know.”

Cord watched the little involuntary jerk her torso did when she was holding in the hiccups. He’d always thought it was cute before. Had teased her about it relentlessly. Now all he could do was rub her back.

“You did what you had to to protect yourself and the baby.”

She hurried to her feet, heading down the trail where she’d hidden the horses from view. Cord followed.

“So how do we get down to those ATVs?” she asked.

“We don’t. We’re stuck on horseback.”

“I don’t understand.” She dusted off her work pants, stowed her rifle and adjusted her saddle.

“I put dirt in the gas.” The trail was narrow and he passed on the opposite side of her horse, removing her scarf from Ginger’s head and hanging it across Kate’s saddle.

“You put—dirt, huh? I don’t guess you’ve learned to fly a helicopter in the past five months?” She tugged Candy’s cinch tight and rested her forehead against the leather. “You were going to wait it out, weren’t you? If I’d known, I wouldn’t have started shooting. If—”

“Don’t do the ‘what if’ thing, Kate. They would have left someone behind. The results would be the same. You saved my life.” He heard his shrink’s voice rolling inside his ears.
Admit your mistake. Maybe it will help.
“Okay, I was wrong for not having a plan before I took off.”

There, he’d admitted his feelings out loud.

“You certainly were.” She looked down on him from high on Candy’s back, having mounted while he had his back turned.

“Wait a minute! Aren’t you going to admit that
you
were wrong for getting us into this mess?”

“Me? So
I’m
responsible?”

Had he just accused her or defended his actions? Whichever, he couldn’t take it back. She closed her eyes and sighed. The long one where he was totally on her bad side until something else happened to change her attitude.

“Come on, Kate. You know I’m talking about right here, right now, this particular situation.”

“Really? Would it have happened at all if you’d been able to walk away from the Serna investigation when the threats began?”

“We don’t have time for this.” He pulled the saddle cinch, wanting to be eye level for where the next words would take them. He knew what was coming. What should have come a long time ago. She’d never accused him. Never yelled at him. Never told him he was responsible.

“You’ve never chosen to discuss it. That’s why I divorced you.” She turned her back to him, clicking to Candy to start moving.

“Right.”

How many times over the past three years had he heard the words
if you’ll just talk to me.
About what? They both knew what had happened when he’d gotten shot and, more important, when she’d lost the baby. Bottom line? He’d paid the ultimate price for not being there to protect her—he’d lost his family.

Talking about it wouldn’t make it any better. He’d never understood why she thought it would. What more was there to say?

“Yeah, fall into that same old habit, Cord. Lock down and don’t say another word to me. It’s a long way to Nick’s place. Good thing you decided a long time ago talking is one thing we can live without.”

She heeled her horse, not waiting for him to mount, not heeding the potential danger still out there waiting. And not before he heard her mumble, “Thanks for the reminder.”

He stepped into the stirrup and took off down the trail after his wife—ex-wife—began the all-day trek to her closest neighbor and high school sweetheart.

“Dammit.”