RESCUE AT CARDWELL RANCH (2 page)

Chapter Two

McKenzie Sheldon came out of the grocery store thinking about work. Not work, exactly, but one of the men at her office.

She was going to have to do something about Gus Thompson. The warnings she’d given him had fallen on deaf ears. The man had reached the point where he was daring her to fire him.

Shifting the single bag of groceries to her other arm, she began to dig for her keys when her cell phone rang. She stopped and pulled out her phone, saw it was her receptionist and said, “What’s up, Cynthia?”

“You told me to call you if I was having any more problems.”

McKenzie let out an angry breath. “Let me guess.
Gus.
What has he done now?” she asked with a disgusted sigh.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Sheldon, but he won’t leave me alone. If I work late,
he
works late. He always insists on walking me to my car. I’ve told him that I’m not interested, but it seems to make him even more determined. I make excuses to avoid him, but—”

“I know. Trust me. It isn’t anything you’re doing.”

“He scares me,” she said, her voice breaking. “Tonight I looked out and he was waiting by my car. I’m afraid to try to go home.”

She started to tell Cynthia that she didn’t think Gus was dangerous, but what did she know? “Is he still out there?”

“I don’t know.” Her receptionist sounded close to tears.

“Call the police. Or if you want to wait, I can swing by—”

“I don’t want you to have to do that. I’ll call the police. I wanted to talk to you first. I didn’t want to make any trouble.”

“Don’t worry about that. Gus is the one making the trouble. I promise you I’ll take care of this tomorrow.” She heard her receptionist make a scared sound. “Don’t worry. I won’t mention your name.” She thought of the night she’d looked out her window at her condo. Gus had been sitting in his car across the street. He’d seen her and sped off, but she’d wondered how many other nights he’d been out there watching her house. “I should have fired him a long time ago.”

“But he’s your best salesman.”

McKenzie let out a humorless laugh. “Hard to believe, isn’t it?”

“Still, I wouldn’t want to be blamed for him losing his job.”

“You won’t. Trust me. I have my own issues with him.” She snapped the phone shut, angry with herself for letting things go on this long.

She had talked to Gus after that incident outside her house. He’d shrugged it off, made an excuse and she hadn’t seen him again near her place. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t been more careful the next time. There was just no reining Gus in, she thought as she found her keys and started toward her car.

She wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow. Gus wouldn’t take being fired well. There would be a scene. She really hated scenes. But this was her responsibility as the owner of the agency. Maybe she should call him tonight and hire security until she could get Gus Thompson’s desk cleaned out and the locks changed on the doors at the agency.

With a sigh, she hit the door lock on her key fob. The door on her SUV beeped. Out of the corner of her eye, she barely noticed the man parked next to her, loading his groceries. His back to her, he bent over the bags of groceries he’d put in his trunk as she walked past him.

She was thinking about Gus Thompson when the man grabbed her ponytail and jerked her off her feet. Shocked, she didn’t make a sound. She didn’t even drop her groceries as his arm clamped around her throat. Her only thought was:
this isn’t happening.

* * *

H
AYES
C
ARDWELL
FELT
his stomach growl as he walked down the grocery-store aisle. The place was empty at this hour of the night with just one clerk at the front, who’d barely noticed him when he walked in. The grocery was out of the way and it was late enough that most people had done their shopping, cooking and eating by now.

His plane had been delayed in Denver, putting him down in the Gallatin Valley much later than he’d hoped—and without any food for hours. He still had the drive to Big Sky tonight, one he wasn’t looking forward to since he didn’t know the highway.

Being from Texas, he wasn’t used to mountains—let alone mountain roads. He was debating calling his brother Tag and telling him he would just get a motel tonight down here in the valley and drive up tomorrow in the daylight.

He snagged a bottle of wine to take to his cousin Dana Savage tomorrow and debated what he could grab to eat. The thought of going to a restaurant at this hour—and eating alone—had no appeal.

In the back of the store, he found a deli with premade items, picked himself up a sandwich and headed for the checkout. His Western boot soles echoed through the empty store. He couldn’t imagine a grocery being this empty any hour of the day where he lived in Houston.

The checker was an elderly woman who looked as tired as he felt. He gave her a smile and two twenties. Her return smile was weak as she handed him his change.

“Have a nice night,” she said in a monotone.

“Is there a motel close around here?”

She pointed down the highway to the south. “There’s several.” She named off some familiar chains.

He smiled, thanked her and started for the door.

* * *

M
C
K
ENZIE
HAD
TAKEN
a self-defense class years ago. Living in Montana, she’d thought she would never need the training. A friend had talked her into it. The highlight of the course was that they’d always gone out afterward for hot-fudge sundaes.

That’s all she remembered in the split second the man grabbed her.

He tightened his viselike grip on her, lifting her off her feet as he dragged her backward toward the trunk of his car. The man had one hand buried in her hair, his arm clamped around her throat. He was so much taller, she dangled like a rag doll from the hold he had on her. She felt one shoe drop to the pavement as she tried to make sense of what was happening.

Her mind seemed to have gone numb with her thoughts ricocheting back and forth from sheer panic to disbelief. Everything was happening too fast. She opened her mouth and tried to scream, but little sound came out with his arm pressed against her throat. Who would hear, anyway? There was
no
one.

Realization hit her like a lightning bolt. The parking lot was empty with only one other car at the opposite end of the lot. With such an empty lot, the man who’d grabbed her had parked right next to her. Also the light she’d parked under was now out. Why hadn’t she noticed? Because she’d been thinking about Gus Thompson.

She saw out of the corner of her eye that the man had moved his few bags of groceries to one side of the trunk, making room for her. The realization that he’d been planning this sent a rush of adrenaline through her.

If there was one thing she remembered from the defense class it was:
never let anyone take you to a second location.

McKenzie drove an elbow into the man’s side. She heard the air rush out of him. He bent forward, letting her feet touch the ground. She teetered on her one high heel for a moment then dropped to her bare foot to kick back and drive her shoe heel into his instep.

He let out a curse and, his hand still buried in her long hair, slammed her head into the side of his car. The blow nearly knocked her out. Tiny lights danced before her eyes. If she’d had any doubt before, she now knew that she was fighting for her life.

She swung the bag of groceries, glad she’d decided to cook from scratch rather than buy something quick. Sweet-and-sour chicken, her favorite from her mother’s recipe, called for a large can of pineapple. It struck him in the side of the head. She heard the impact and the man’s cry of pain and surprise. His arm around her neck loosened just enough that she could turn partway around.

McKenzie swung again, but this time, he let go of her hair long enough to block the blow with his arm. She went for his fingers, blindly grabbing two and bending them back as hard as she could.

The man let out a howl behind her, both of them stumbling forward. As she fell against the side of his car, she tried to turn and go for his groin. She still hadn’t seen his face. Maybe if she saw his face, he would take off. Or would he feel he had to kill her?

But as she turned all she saw was the top of his baseball cap before he punched her. His fist connected with her temple. She felt herself sway then the grocery-store parking lot was coming up fast. She heard the twenty-ounce pineapple can hit and roll an instant before she joined it on the pavement.

From the moment he’d grabbed her, it had all happened in only a matter of seconds.

* * *

H
AYES
STEPPED
OUT
into the cool night air and took a deep breath of Montana. The night was dark and yet he could still see the outline of the mountains that surrounded the valley.

Maybe he would drive on up the canyon tonight, after all, he thought. It was such a beautiful June night and he didn’t feel as tired as he had earlier. He’d eat the sandwich on his way and—

As he started toward his rented SUV parked by itself in the large lot, he saw a man toss what looked like a bright-colored shoe into his trunk before struggling to pick up a woman from the pavement between a large, dark car and a lighter-colored SUV. Both were parked some distance away from his vehicle in an unlit part of the lot.

Had the woman fallen? Was she hurt?

As the man lifted the woman, Hayes realized that the man was about to put her into the
trunk
of the car.

What the hell?

“Hey!” he yelled.

The man turned in surprise. Hayes only got a fleeting impression of the man since he was wearing a baseball cap pulled low and his face was in shadow in the dark part of the lot.

“Hey!” Hayes yelled again as he dropped his groceries. The wine hit the pavement and exploded, but Hayes paid no attention as he raced toward the man.

The man seemed to panic, stumbling over a bag of groceries on the ground under him. He fell to one knee and dropped the woman again to the pavement. Struggling to his feet, he left the woman where she was and rushed around to the driver’s side of the car.

As Hayes sprinted toward the injured woman, the man leaped behind the wheel, started the car and sped off.

Hayes tried to get a license plate but it was too dark. He rushed to the woman on the ground. She hadn’t moved. As he dropped to his knees next to her, the car roared out of the grocery parking lot and disappeared down the highway. He’d only gotten an impression of the make of the vehicle and even less of a description of the man.

As dark as it was, though, he could see that the woman was bleeding from a cut on the side of her face. He felt for a pulse, then dug out his cell phone and called for the police and an ambulance.

Waiting for 911 to answer, he noticed that the woman was missing one of her bright red high-heeled shoes. The operator answered and he quickly gave her the information. As he disconnected he looked down to see that the woman’s eyes had opened. A sea of blue-green peered up at him. He felt a small chill ripple through him before he found his voice. “You’re going to be all right. You’re safe now.”

The eyes blinked then closed.

Chapter Three

McKenzie’s head ached. She gingerly touched the bandage and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry I can’t provide you with a description of the man. I never saw his face.” She’d tried to remember, but everything felt fuzzy and out of focus. She’d never felt so shaken or so unsure.

“Is the light bothering you?” the policewoman asked.

She opened her eyes as the woman rose to adjust the blinds on the hospital-room window. The room darkened, but it did nothing to alleviate the pain in her head. “It all happened so fast.” Her voice broke as she remembered the gaping open trunk and the man’s arm at her throat as she was lifted off her feet.

“You said the man was big.”

She nodded, remembering how her feet had dangled above the ground. She was five feet six so he must have been over six feet. “He was...strong, too, muscular.” She shuddered at the memory.

“You said he was wearing a baseball cap. Do you remember what might have been printed on it?”

“It was too dark.” She saw again in her memory the pitch-black parking lot. “He must have broken the light because I would have remembered parking in such a dark part of the lot.”

“Did he say anything?”

McKenzie shook her head.

“What about cologne?”

“I didn’t smell anything.” Except her own terror.

“The car, you said it was large and dark. Have you remembered anything else about it?”

“No.” She hadn’t been paying any attention to the car or the man and now wondered how she could have been so foolish.

The policewoman studied her for a moment. “We received a call last night from your receptionist about a man named Gus Thompson.”

McKenzie felt her heart begin to pound. “Gus works for me. You aren’t suggesting—”

“Is it possible the man who grabbed you was Gus Thompson?”

McKenzie couldn’t speak for a moment. Gus was big. He also had to know, after numerous warnings, that she was ready to fire him. Or at least, he should have known. Could it have been him? Was it possible he hated her enough to want to hurt her? “I don’t know.”

“We found a car registered to him, a large, dark-colored Cadillac. Did you know he had this car?”

“No. But his mother recently died. I think he mentioned she’d left him a car.”

“He never drove it to work?”

“No, not that I know of.” Again, she hadn’t been paying attention. She knew little about Gus Thompson because she’d chosen not to know any more than she had to. “I saw him parked outside my house one night. I spoke to him about it and I never saw him again, but I can’t be sure he didn’t follow me sometimes.” She thought of one instance when she’d noticed him driving a few cars behind her. But Bozeman was small enough that it hadn’t seemed all that odd at the time.

The policewoman raised a brow. “You never reported this?”

McKenzie tried to explain it to herself and failed. “I guess I thought he was annoying but harmless.”

“Did you ever date him?”

“Good heavens, no.”

“But Gus Thompson probably knows your habits, where you go after work, where you shop?”

She nodded numbly. Gus could have followed her many times and she wouldn’t even have noticed. She’d been so caught up in making her business a success....

The policewoman closed her notebook. “We’ll have a chat with Mr. Thompson and see where he was last night at the time of your attack.”

“He wasn’t at the office last night when you sent a patrolman over there?” she asked.

The policewoman shook her head. “He’d already left. Your receptionist was unsure when.”

McKenzie felt a shiver, her mind racing. Could it have been Gus who’d attacked her? She swallowed, her throat raw and bruised from last night. Gus was big and strong and she knew he resented her. To think she’d almost reassured Cynthia that Gus wasn’t dangerous. He could be more dangerous than she would have imagined.

“I used to work with his mother when she owned the agency,” she said. “I inherited Gus. He is my best salesman, but I know he felt his mother should have left him the business and not sold it to me.”

The policewoman nodded. “This could have been building for some time. We’ll see what he has to say.”

She had a thought. “I hit the man last night several times, but I’m not sure I did enough damage that it would even show.” She described the ways she’d hit him.

“Don’t worry. We’ll check it out. In the meantime, you’ll be safe here.”

As the policewoman started to leave the room, McKenzie said, “The man who saved me last night...” She had a sudden flash.
You’re safe now.
She blinked. “I’d like to get his name so I can thank him.”

“He asked that his name be kept out of it.”

She blinked. “Why?”

“There actually are people who don’t want the notoriety. I can contact him if you like and see if he might have changed his mind. What I can tell you is that he just happened to fly in last night and stop at that grocery store on his way to see family. Fortunately for you.”

“Yes. Fortunate.” She had another flash of memory. Warm brown eyes filled with concern.
You’re safe now.

“The doctor said they’re releasing you this afternoon. We’re going to be talking to Mr. Thompson as soon as we can find him. Maybe going to the office isn’t the best idea.”

“I
have
to go into work. I was planning to fire Gus Thompson today. Even if he wasn’t the man in the parking lot last night, I can’t have him working for me any longer.”

“Why don’t you let us handle Mr. Thompson. We have your cell phone number. I’ll call you when he and his personal items are out of your business. In the meantime, I would suggest getting new locks for your office and a restraining order for both yourself and your business.”

She must have looked worried because the officer added, “You might want to stay with friends or relatives for a while.”

“I have a client I need to see tomorrow south of here. I could go down there tonight and stay in a motel.”

“I think that is a good idea,” the policewoman said.

* * *

“L
OOK
WHAT
THE
cat dragged in,” Tag Cardwell said as Hayes walked into the kitchen on the Cardwell Ranch. “We were getting ready to send the hounds out to track you down.”

“Hey, cuz,” Dana said as she got up from the table to give him a hug and offer him coffee. It was his first time meeting his cousin. She was pretty and dark like the rest of the Cardwells. As Tag had predicted, he liked her immediately. “We thought you’d be in last night.”

“Ran into a little trouble,” Hayes said and gladly took the large mug of coffee Dana handed him.

“That’s Texas-speak for he met a woman,” his brother joked.

Hayes told them what had happened and how it was after daylight before he left the police station. He didn’t mention the strange feeling he’d had when the woman had opened her eyes.

“Is she all right?” Dana asked, clearly shocked.

For months, Tag had been talking up Montana and its low crime rate among all of its other amazing wonders.

“She regained consciousness in the ambulance. Last I heard she was going to be fine—at least physically. I’m not sure what a close call like that does to a person.”

“Have the police found the man?” Dana asked, and hugged herself as if feeling a chill. Hayes thought about what his cousin had been through. She had personal experience with a psychopath who wanted to harm her.

“Unfortunately, the police don’t have any leads. I wasn’t able to get a license plate or even the model or make of the car the man was driving.” He felt exhausted and stifled a yawn. He’d been going on nothing but adrenaline and caffeine since last night. “Hopefully, the woman will be able to give the cops a description so they can get the bastard.”

“You look exhausted,” Dana said. “I’ll make you breakfast, then Tag will show you to your cabin. You two don’t have anything planned until late afternoon, right?”

“Right,” Tag said. “I’m taking my brother to see the restaurant space I found.”

“Then get some rest, Hayes. We’re having a steak fry tonight. Our fathers have said they are going to try to make it.”

“That sounds great.” He wasn’t sure he was up to seeing his father. Harlan Cardwell had only been a passing figure in his life. Tag, who was the oldest, remembered him more than the other four of them. Harlan had come to Texas a few times, but his visits had been quick. Being the second to the youngest, Hayes didn’t even remember his uncle Angus.

Hayes felt emotionally spent, sickened by what he’d witnessed last night and worried about the woman. He kept seeing her staring up at him with those eyes. He mentally shook himself as Dana put a plate of silver-dollar-sized pancakes with chokecherry syrup in front of him, along with a side of venison sausage and two sunny-side-up eggs.

He ate as if he hadn’t eaten in days. As it was, he’d never gotten around to eating that sandwich he’d purchased at the grocery store last night. After he’d been plied with even more of Dana’s amazing buttermilk pancakes, his brother walked him out to his rental SUV.

“So how are the wedding plans coming along?” he asked Tag as they got his gear and walked up a path behind the barn into the pines to his cabin.

He’d flown in a month early to talk his brother out of opening a Texas Boys Barbecue joint at Big Sky. The five brothers had started their first restaurant in a small old house in Houston. The business had grown by leaps and bounds and was now a multimillion-dollar corporation.

All five of them had agreed that they would keep the restaurants in Texas. But in December, Tag had come to Montana to spend Christmas with their father and had fallen in love with both Montana and Lily McCabe. Nothing like a woman and a little wilderness to mess with the best-laid plans.

It was now up to Hayes, as a spokesman for the other three brothers, to put Tag’s feet firmly back on the ground and nip this problem in the bud.

“It’s going to be an old-fashioned Western wedding,” Tag was saying, his voice filled with excitement. “I can’t wait for you to meet Lily. She’s like no woman I have ever known.”

Hayes didn’t doubt it. He’d never seen his brother so happy. All of the brothers had the Cardwell dark good looks. Add to that their success, and women were often throwing themselves at one of them or another. Except for Jackson, none of them had found a woman they wanted to date more than a few times. They’d all become gun-shy after Jackson had bitten the bullet and gotten married—and quickly divorced after he found out his wife wanted nothing to do with their newborn son.

Hayes couldn’t wait to meet this Lily McCabe to find out what kind of spell she’d cast over his brother—and possibly try to break it before the wedding.

* * *

G
US
T
HOMPSON
HAD
never been so angry. The bitch had called the cops on him. He glanced toward the empty receptionist’s desk at the front of the real-estate office. It didn’t surprise him that Cynthia hadn’t come in today. Stupid woman. Did she really think he would blame
her?

No, he knew Cynthia didn’t do
anything
without checking with her boss.

So where the hell
was
McKenzie Sheldon? No matter what was going on, she was usually at work before him every morning.
She must have had a rough night,
he thought with a smirk.

Where was everyone else? he wondered as he checked his watch. Had they heard about the police coming by his house last night?

When the front door opened, he turned in his office chair, the smirk still on his face since he’d been expecting McKenzie. He felt it fall away as he saw the cops. Hadn’t it been enough that an officer had shown up at his door last night, questioning him about stalking the receptionist at the office? Now what?

“Mr. Thompson?” the policewoman asked. Her name tag read P. Donovan.

“Yes?” he asked, getting to his feet. He saw them look around the empty office.

“Are you here alone?”

“Everyone seems to be running late this morning,” he said, and wondered why that was. Because they’d all been given a heads-up? Gus noticed the way both cops were looking at him, scrutinizing him as if he had horns growing out of his head.

“We’d like to ask you a few questions,” the woman cop said. “Ms. Sheldon has asked us to first see that you remove your belongings from the premises.”

“What?”
he demanded. “The bitch is
firing
me? Has she lost her mind?”

P. Donovan’s eyes went hard and cold at the word
bitch.
The word had just slipped out. He’d known McKenzie had it in for him, but he’d never dreamed she’d fire him.

“I’m her biggest-earning salesman,” he said as if there had been a mistake made and he hadn’t made it. Neither responded. Instead, he saw the male cop looking around. “What?”

“Are there some boxes in the office you can put your belongings into?” the cop asked.

Hadn’t either of them been listening? “She can’t do this.” Gus heard the hopelessness in his voice. He hated nothing worse than the feeling that came with it. He wanted to break something. Tear the place up. Then find McKenzie Sheldon and punch her in the face.

The male cop had gone into a storage room. He came back with two boxes. “Please take only those items belonging to you personally. We’ll watch so we can tell Ms. Sheldon.”

Gus gritted his teeth. McKenzie didn’t even have the guts to face him. Well, this wasn’t the last she’d see of him. He’d catch her in a dark alley. He started to shovel the top of the desk off into one of the boxes, but the male cop stopped him. T. Bradley, the name tag read.

“Leave any inventory you’ve been working on.”

He grabbed up his coffee mug and threw it into the box. The couple of tablespoons of coffee left in the cup made a dark stain across the bottom. The same way McKenzie’s blood was going to stain the spot where they met up again, he told himself.

His personal belongings barely filled one box. That realization made him sad and even angrier. This business should have been his. When he was a boy, he used to sleep on the floor of the main office when his mother had to work late. This place had been more like home than home during those years when she’d been growing the business.