Secluded With the Cowboy (7 page)

“I’d like to ask a few questions first,” Sarah said.

“Right.” She nodded. “You need to know about prior illnesses and allergies.”

The young doctor smiled. “I’m a medical doctor, fully capable of giving you a physical checkup. I work in a clinic with other doctors who have other specialties. My area of expertise is psychiatry.”

Nicole sat back in her chair and folded her arms below her breasts. A psychiatrist? “Does Dylan know about this?”

“Lord, no,” Maud said. “Introducing you to Sarah was my idea.”

Nicole had nothing against mental-health professionals. In her work as a vet, she’d seen how the emotional component played into wellness and behavior, even in a herd of cattle. But she’d always thought of herself as
a well-grounded individual—not someone who needed psychiatric counseling.

On the other hand, she’d never been kidnapped and held captive before.

After half an hour’s conversation, Nicole’s mouth was dry and her palms sweaty. She’d related the chronology of her time in captivity with a few more details than she’d told to the others, including the heart-pounding panic when Nate sealed her mouth with duct tape. When she talked about it, a gag reflex tightened her throat.

She sat back in her chair. “Well, Sarah? What’s your diagnosis?”

“It wouldn’t be going out on a limb to say that you’ve been traumatized. Do you agree?”

“Yes.” As a vet, Nicole didn’t have the luxury of talking to her patients. She couldn’t look a bawling steer in the eye and ask where it hurt. The only way to understand was poking and prodding. That sort of guesswork wouldn’t be necessary for her own treatment. “How do I get better?”

“You’ve already taken the first step by acknowledging your trauma. Tell me about your physical symptoms.”

“Upset stomach. I’ve vomited twice. I’m tense and irritable. Having trouble sleeping.”

“Falling asleep?”

Nicole thought for a moment, trying to be precise. “I
can nod off, but I’m not getting a good rest. I’m wakeful. Tossing and turning.”

“And your dreams?”

“I don’t remember.” She wasn’t ready or willing to reveal the depth of her fear. “Nate Miller is a very creepy guy. He’s obsessed with destroying the Carlisle family.”

“I want to talk about you.”

“He scares me. Him and his threats.” She hastened to add, “Last night, Dylan went chasing after him and almost got himself blown to bits. Nate set off dynamite.”

Sarah nodded. “I heard about that.”

Her easygoing, encouraging manner almost made Nicole forget that she was talking to a shrink. Almost. “Nate Miller is a very dangerous person. He’s already killed our foreman, Lucas Mann.”

“And you’re afraid he’ll hurt someone else you love.”

“I can’t stand to lose anyone else,” Nicole said.

“Have you lost others?”

“My parents.” The remembered sorrow surrounding the death of her mother and then her father only a year later washed through her in a sudden, unexpected surge. She grabbed a tissue from the box on the table to dab away the tears. “Oh, hell.”

“It’s all right to miss them,” Sarah said.

“Well, yes. But I don’t usually start crying when I think of them.” Her emotions were in turmoil. She couldn’t control herself. “How long will it take me to get over this?”

“I’d like to set up regular appointments,” Sarah said. “In the meantime, I’ll prescribe anti-anxiety medication.”

“No drugs,” Nicole said firmly.

Maud sat up straighter on the bed. “Why’s that?”

“Just because.” Nicole knew she wasn’t being a good patient, but she didn’t care. She’d talked as much as she intended to. “Sarah, could you run some blood tests for me? I’ve been feeling weak, maybe anemic. I don’t think Nate was drugging me, but I’d like to make sure.”

“No problem.”

Sarah quickly went through the physical part of the examination and complimented Nicole on her self-treatment of her bruises and abrasions. After drawing a couple of vials of blood, she arranged to come back to the ranch in a few days. “But you can call me—anytime you want to talk.”

After Nicole showed Sarah downstairs to the front door and said goodbye, she took Maud by the arm and dragged her down the hallway to Dylan’s office. She peeked inside, making sure nobody was there. Then she pulled Maud into the room and closed the door. “Why did you bring a psychiatrist?”

“She’s good, isn’t she?”

“Answer my question.”

Maud straightened the tangle of necklaces around her throat. “When Dylan called, he told me you refused to see a doctor. I trust your judgment enough to believe you. Physically, I think you’re going to heal in a few days. But he also mentioned trouble sleeping, tension, nervousness. He’s worried about you.”

“Dylan wants everything to get back to normal as soon as possible.”

“Don’t you?” Maud asked.

She wasn’t so sure. “To be completely honest, normal wasn’t so great. Dylan and I have been arguing. I’m not sure I want things to go back to the way we were before the kidnapping. I want a change.”

“Does this have anything to do with the reason you refused to take medication?”

She sat on the long leather sofa. She trusted Maud. They came from the same town in Wyoming, and she had known Maud for most of her life. It was because of Maud that Nicole had moved to this area to work in Maud’s veterinary clinic. Still, it was difficult to talk about her fertility troubles with someone who wasn’t part of the family. Nicole inhaled a breath and blurted, “I want to have a baby.”

“Fan-tabulous!” Maud dove onto the sofa beside her and gave her a hug. “You’ll make a terrific mom.”

“I figured it was time. I’m coming up on thirty, and I truly want a family. But I’ve been having trouble getting pregnant. The longer it takes, the more I know this is what I want. I’m not sure Dylan feels the same way.”

“Can’t blame him,” Maud said with a grin. “Most studs don’t seem to care if they ever see the foals.”

“He’s not a horse. Or a prize bull.”

“Of course not, kiddo. You’re primates.” Maude hugged her again. “If you’re looking for a really good paternal role model, you might be better off emperor penguins.”

“Penguins?”

“The baby’s daddy hatches the egg.”

Nicole couldn’t help smiling back at her friend. “That’s not a bad idea. Dylan really looks great in a tux.”

“On a more serious note,” Maud said, “you might consider talking to Sarah about your marriage.”

“Why? Our relationship doesn’t have anything to do with the kidnapping.” Nicole frowned.

“But your marriage affects almost everything in your life. Right?”

“I’ve already tried to get Dylan to come with me to
a counselor.” That was an epic argument. “He didn’t like the idea.”

“Try again.” Maud gathered her close for another hug.

Was that really the best thing? Nicole wished she knew exactly what to do. Nothing seemed certain.

W
HEN IT CAME
to running the ranch, Dylan hated to be second-guessed. But he was more than happy to let Carolyn give the orders when it came to Christmas decorations.

She had assigned him the job of stringing popcorn and cranberries in a long garland to be draped on the tree. He sat on a sofa in the living room with bowls of fluffy white popcorn and berries on the coffee table in front of him. Though he didn’t much like working with a needle and thread, he preferred the sidelines to Burke’s job of hanging the lights on the tree under Carolyn’s direct supervision. The big, tall FBI agent had silenced Dylan’s sister more than once by scooping her off the floor and carrying her several feet away from the tree. He didn’t seem to mind that she kept bouncing right back.

Jesse Longbridge had arrived with their neighbor, Fiona Grant, and her five-year-old daughter, Abby. Fiona was a potter, and she’d brought a boxful of handmade ceramic elves, glazed in red and green.

In the past few days, Fiona and Jesse had clearly become a couple. Constantly touching, they couldn’t take their eyes off each other.

Dylan remembered how it had been when he and Nicole had first fallen in love. A golden glow had surrounded them. Her laughter was music. Her touch was magic. When she’d looked at him with love shining
from her blue eyes, she’d been the most beautiful woman in the world.

She still was. In his eyes, she was near perfect. Strong and healthy, she could ride for hours. During calving season, she worked harder than any man. But there was something ethereal about her, like an angel. She looked as delicate as a snowflake with her pale blond hair and her translucent skin. He didn’t tell her that often enough.

Jesse crossed the room with a mug of coffee in his hand and took a seat on the chair beside the sofa. “I guess Christmas is a big deal around here. You’ve got more decorations than a shopping mall.”

“It’s Nicole’s favorite season.”

“How’s she doing?”

“She seems okay.” Dylan shrugged. “We’d all feel a lot better if Nate Miller was locked up behind bars.”

Jesse sipped his coffee and licked his lips. “I only talked to Nate once. It was before we considered him to be a suspect, but I should have known he was up to something. The man’s crazy. He blames your dad for his own father’s death.”

“He might have a point,” Dylan said as he stabbed another cranberry with the needle.

“How so?”

“My dad offered old man Miller the chance to join us when we changed to organic ranching. When he refused, the Circle M started going downhill. Nobody wanted to buy what they were selling. Their herd got smaller and even less profitable. Ultimately, they lost everything. I can see how Nate would blame my dad for breaking his father’s heart.”

“A rational explanation,” Jesse said. “Nate isn’t that logical. He claims that Sterling actually killed his father.”

Dylan hadn’t heard this story before. “Old man Miller died of a heart attack.”

“Nate told me that he heard your dad’s voice from outside right before his father keeled over in one of the cattle pens and got trampled. In his version of the story, Sterling could have saved him if he’d called the ambulance.”

“Crazy,” Dylan muttered.

“But Nate believes it. In his twisted mind, he blames the Carlisles for the death of his father and for nearly losing his ranch, which is why he thinks his wife left him. And why he can’t spend time with his kid.”

“Everything bad that ever happened to him.”

“That’s the size of it,” Jesse said. “He really hates you, Dylan. He’s not going to stop coming after you.”

“Well, Jesse, I guess we’re going to need Longbridge Security until Nate gets arrested.”

“I’m happy to stay in the area.” He grinned as he looked toward Fiona and her daughter. “But I don’t think bodyguards are going to solve your problem. In my professional opinion, you and Nicole and Carolyn should go somewhere else. Somewhere that Nate can’t find you.”

Jesse was the second person today to advise him to get out of town. This morning, the sheriff had said the only way he’d avoid the media was to leave. “I can’t just take off. This ranch doesn’t run itself. With Lucas dead, I don’t even have a foreman.”

Dylan sure as hell didn’t like the idea of turning tail and running, being driven off his property by a polecat like Nate. Dammit, this was his home.

Glancing toward the hallway, he spotted Nicole walking beside Doc Maud. From across the room, he
recognized the signs of tension in the way she held her shoulders. Her eyes seemed puffy. Had she been crying?

He hoped the doctor hadn’t given her bad news. Even more, he hoped that Nicole wouldn’t be ticked off because he’d gone behind her back to arrange for a checkup. She seemed to be avoiding him as she greeted their other guests, paying special attention to little Abby. The five-year-old’s curly blond hair made her look more like Nicole than her own mother.

Dylan turned to Jesse. “You and Fiona?”

“She’s a special lady.” Jesse’s grin spread wider. “I’m thinking of taking a leave of absence from the security guard business and staying with her for a while.”

“Can you take time off? I thought you were the boss.”

“I’m the founder of Longbridge Security, but my sister in Denver really runs things. She’ll manage.”

“We’ve got more in common than I thought,” Dylan said. “We’ve both got take-charge sisters involved in our business.”

“A blessing and a curse.” Jesse raised his mug toward Carolyn who was fussing with the lights on the tree. “I wish Burke the best of luck.”

“He’s in for a wild ride,” Dylan agreed.

On the far side of the living room, Nicole escorted Dylan’s mother to the spinet against the wall that held framed photographs of generations of Carlisles, dating back to the early 1900s. Andrea was the only one in the family who played the piano, but Dylan still kept it well-maintained and tuned.

Nicole turned off the CD as Andrea began to play “Jingle Bells.” It didn’t take long for people to gather around the piano and start singing carols.

Jesse stood. “Think about what I said. It might be good for you and Nicole to get away from the ranch.”

Dylan nodded. If the only way to keep Nicole safe was to run, he didn’t have a choice.

Before she’d been kidnapped, Nicole hadn’t considered brushing her teeth to be a luxury. Going without a toothbrush for a week changed her mind. She brushed and rinsed and brushed again. The inside of her mouth tasted clean. Minty. Wonderful.

She bared her teeth and stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her face looked tired, pale and a bit feral, like a rabid squirrel.
Am I getting better?
Today should have been a time of good cheer, filled with friends, family and Christmas spirit. She’d made an effort to join the party. Singing carols. Drinking spiced cider. Lighting Christmas candles. Everyone had complimented her on her quick recovery from a terrible situation. They’d told her she looked good. They were happy for her.

But her fixed smile masked an underlying fear. Her laughter stifled an urge to scream.

On the counter beside the sink was the cell phone Dylan had given her. He’d thoughtfully programmed her most frequently called phone numbers with his cell listed as number one.

It was after nine o’clock. She still hadn’t called Nate.

His whispered threats repeated endlessly in her mind. If she didn’t do as he said, someone would suffer. She should return his call.
But, damn. I don’t want to
. She rationalized that Nate wasn’t all-powerful. Their ranch house was well-guarded. He couldn’t get to her or her family. But she was still afraid.

Taking the cell phone with her, she opened the bathroom door. She should have been ready for sleep. Most ranchers were early to bed and early to rise. But she’d always been a bit of a night owl. As was her husband.

When they were first married, these hours between nine and midnight had been their special time. And it wasn’t always about sex…frequently, but not always. With everyone else asleep, they’d sneak downstairs for a snack. Or go to his office, snuggle on the sofa and watch a favorite old movie on TV. She treasured those memories of intimacy. Lately, Dylan had been working so hard that he was sound asleep by nine.

Not tonight. He stood beside the bedroom window. His shoulders slouched a bit. His thumb hooked in the pocket of his jeans. Though she was wearing flannel pajamas, Dylan hadn’t changed from his day clothes. They hadn’t discussed tonight’s sleeping arrangements.

“Is it snowing again?” she asked.

“There’s a couple of lazy flakes drifting down. More in the forecast for tomorrow.”

“Good,” she said. “We’ll have a white Christmas.”

When she joined him at the window, he pulled her close against him and said, “Jesse told me that we’re never supposed to stand directly in front of a window with the light shining behind us. We’d be easy targets for a sniper.”

Her fingers tightened on the cell phone. Was Nate out
there? Was he watching? She tried to ease her tension with a laugh. “It’d take some fancy shooting to make that shot.”

“It’s better not to take chances.” His low baritone rumbled as if he was speaking from deep inside himself. “I didn’t leave the house all day. I can’t remember ever doing that before, except for when I’m sick in bed.”

She peeked around the edge of the window to gaze at the snow-covered rocks and hills in the wide mountain valley that spread toward Riverton and Delta. Lights twinkled from houses far away.

“One good thing,” she said as she looked down at the gate in front of their property, “the television news truck is gone.”

“I hate to say it, but they’ll be back tomorrow. Carolyn says they aren’t going to leave until you give an interview.”

She shuddered. “No way.”

His other arm encircled her, and her shoulder adjusted to fit neatly against his chest. His bodily warmth soothed and comforted her. “There are going to be stories,” he said, “whether you talk to the reporters or not.”

She tilted her chin to look up at him. “I can’t talk about it. Not to strangers. There are things I don’t even want to tell you.”

“Like what?” His voice took on a sharp edge. The sinewy muscles in his arms flexed and tensed. “You can tell me anything, darlin’.”

Hadn’t she just said that she preferred not to?
“It’s nothing.”

“He didn’t touch you, did he?”

“Of course he did,” she said impatiently. “He dragged me from here to there, threw me in the trunk of a car. Of course, there was physical contact.”

“You know what I mean. Was there anything sexual?”

She was sure that, in her husband’s mind, rape was the worst thing that could happen. Maybe it was. She couldn’t say because that hadn’t been her experience. “There was nothing like that. He didn’t want anything to do with me.”

His sigh of relief blew through her hair.

She shouldn’t have been irritated. But it seemed as though he was suggesting that if she hadn’t been raped, her captivity wasn’ t really all that terrible.
Why should you be so upset? You weren’t molested, after all
. She wriggled free and moved away from him. “You don’t get it.”

“Darlin’, I’m trying to understand.”

“Forget it.”

She turned away from him, walked the few paces to the bed and placed the cell phone on the bedside table. How could she explain what it was like to pee in a jar, to be chained like a dog, to pray for mercy that never came? Nate had broken her down. Waiting for him, hour after hour, she actually looked forward to his appearances. She craved the meager food and water he brought for her.

For a while, she’d wished for death. It would have been better to die with honor than live without self-respect. But she wanted to survive.

“We’ll talk about something else,” Dylan said.

He was smart enough not to approach her. If he tried to cuddle her and tell her that everything was all right, she might snap.

“The doctor,” he said. “What did the doctor say when she examined you?”

“My injuries are superficial. No problem.” She turned and faced him. “The way you used Maud was really devious. You knew I wouldn’t refuse to see the doc if Maud was involved.”

“Did she give you any medication?”

“I’m not putting any drugs into my system. Not while I’m trying to get pregnant.”

“I understand.”

Did he?
She couldn’t read his expression. Whenever they talked about having a baby, he seemed guarded—almost as if her big, strong husband was scared.

“The doctor’s name is Sarah.” Nicole watched for his reaction as she said, “She’s a psychiatrist.”

His eyebrows shot up. His mouth gaped like a bass, then popped shut. It was safe to assume that he was surprised by this bit of information. Stunned, even. “What the hell was Maud thinking? You need a real doctor.”

“Sarah has medical training. Her examination was thorough, and she took some blood samples. Mostly, we talked.”

Dylan paced at the far end of the room. Obviously, he hadn’t expected a shrink. When he cleared his throat, it sounded like the growl of a grizzly. “Great, just great. If she can help, I’m all for it.”

“That’s a change of attitude. As I recall, you were opposed to marriage counseling.”

“Twice a week, driving all the way to Delta. I don’t have time.”

They’d had this argument before—a familiar tune played in a discordant key. “You wouldn’t even try.”

“All we’d do with a counselor is talk, and we can do that right here. Right now. Look at the two of us. You see? We’re talking.”

She sank onto the bed. “And this is such a magical conversation.”

There was a knock on the door, and Carolyn called out, “Are you awake?”

Simultaneously, Dylan and Nicole said, “Come in.”

Dylan’s sister swept into the room, wearing her bathrobe and a nightshirt that looked suspiciously like the top of a pair of men’s extra-extra-large pajamas. “The sheriff called. He tried to reach you first, Dylan, but your phone’s turned off. So is mine. But Burke always keeps the line of communication open, and—”

“Carolyn,” Dylan interrupted, “why did he call?”

“Before I say anything else, I don’t want you to panic. Neither of you.”

A knot tightened in the center of Nicole’s chest. Something terrible had happened. She looked toward the cell phone resting on her bedside table. “What is it, Carolyn?”

“There was a break-in at Maud’s veterinary clinic. Windows were broken. Computers were smashed. The file cabinets were trashed.”

“The animals?” Nicole leapt to her feet. “Are the animals all right?”

“Yes,” Carolyn said. “A couple of the dogs wouldn’t stop howling. That’s why the sheriff’s office was called.”

“I don’t understand,” Nicole said. “Maud has an alarm system. She’s been vandalized before by people trying to break into her drug cabinet.”

“The alarm was disabled,” Carolyn said. “The sheriff said it was a neat bit of electrical work.”

The sort of work a handyman could do. A handyman like Nate Miller
. Nicole saw Carolyn fidget. There was something else that she wasn’t saying. “What is it?”

“There was a spray-painted message on the wall. It said, ‘I won’t stop.’ The signature was an
M
in a circle.”

Circle M. Nate told her that if she didn’t do as he ordered, he’d go after the people she loved. Now he’d
made good on that threat. The vandalism at Maud’s clinic was her fault. All her fault.

Though her heart beat faster than a hummingbird’s wings, she kept her exterior calm as she picked up her cell phone. “I need to call Maud and see if there’s anything I can do.”

As soon as Dylan left the bedroom, Nicole knew what she must do. All day long she’d avoided making the call to Nate. She’d been pretending, hoping, wishing with all her heart that his threats would somehow go away.

She’d been wrong.

And Maud had paid the price.

Dylan had freed her from the chains Nate had used to keep her captive, but terror was an even stronger cage.

She sat in the middle of the bed, assailed by flashbacks of screaming until her throat was raw, struggling against the handcuffs, fighting her hunger and her thirst. Her fading bruises throbbed with renewed pain. The gummy taste of duct tape coated her mouth.

She’d feared for her own survival. But even more important was the safety of the people she loved. When she’d had her meeting with Dylan, she would have chosen death rather than deny her love for him. But he had been in danger, too. If she hadn’t followed the script, Dylan would have been killed.

She had to protect him. And Maud. And everyone else she cared about.
But do I have to do it alone?

Not telling Dylan about the contact from Nate was like lying to him, and she hated the way it felt. Nate had driven a wedge between them.

Determined to put an end to this sick connection, she called the number Nate had given her. The phone range six times before he picked up.

“You’re late,” he whispered.

“You shouldn’t have gone after Maud.”

“Got your attention, didn’t I?”

Bastard!
“If you hurt anyone else, I won’t cooperate.”

“Don’t try to bargain, Nicole. I’m in charge, and you’ll do what I tell you to do.”

She had no leverage. Her resistance felt weak. “Why should I? How do I know you won’t come after Dylan?”

“You don’t,” he said. “But if you don’t follow my orders, I promise that you won’t like the results. The next time I won’t be satisfied with destroying property. I will take lives. Your friends, your family, all your pretty little horses. Do you believe me?”

“Yes.” All her fear came rushing back. She gained nothing by fighting. He was capable of terrible violence.

“Tell no one that you’re in contact with me.”

She had no choice. She had to lie. A helpless sob crawled up her throat.
Dylan, I’m sorry
.

“Nicole, did you hear me?”

“Tell me what I have to do.”

D
YLAN LEFT
Nicole alone in the bedroom to make her phone call and went downstairs to the kitchen. Though he felt bad about Maud’s clinic, Carolyn’s interruption had come at the right time. He didn’t want to get rolling with a bunch of tired old arguments.

Trips into Delta twice a week to see a counselor? It didn’t fit his schedule. And he didn’t need an outside person telling him how to run his life.

He moved quietly through the house, not needing to turn on any of the lights. This had been his home since he was born. Except for college in Fort Collins, he’d never lived anywhere else. Just like his dad.

Sure, there were similarities between him and his old man, and it wasn’t all bad. They were both ranchers, good providers, conscious of the environment. And they both had trouble in their marriage.

Dylan had learned a lesson by watching his father. Sterling had never found another woman he loved as much as Andrea. He’d gone through life alone.
I won’t make the same mistake
. If Nicole needed for him to see a shrink, he’d do it. By God, he’d do any damn thing to save his marriage.

In the kitchen, he took a half gallon of milk from the fridge and poured himself a glass. A shot of whiskey might go down well, but he wanted to stay alert in case Nicole had another rough night.

Through the kitchen window, he saw hillsides covered with pristine white snow. The smells of pine boughs and gingerbread lingered from the afternoon.

From the front room, he heard the spinet. Not a Christmas song, but a sonata. The music took him back in time to when he was a little boy, sitting beside his mom on the piano bench, listening as her long fingers stroked the keys.

Quietly, he went through the dining room. In the living room, the lights flickered on the Christmas tree. Andrea sat with her back to him, making music.

He’d never forgiven her for leaving him and Carolyn, for choosing to follow her own dreams. But he’d never stopped loving his mother. He came up behind her. “Don’t stop playing.”

“Do you remember?” she asked.

He hesitated for a long moment. “I remember, Mom.”

He hadn’t called her Mom in a hell of a long time. But it felt right. Standing behind her, he listened and
thought of how much he’d missed by being too stubborn to return her gestures when she reached out to him.

“You’ve never asked me for advice,” she said, continuing to play. “But I have something to say.”