Tennessee Takedown (17 page)

Farther down the driveway, a familiar red Jeep turned down the drive. Dillon? What was he doing here? And why was he driving so fast?

A prickle of unease slid down her spine. The driver’s door opened on the car behind hers and Patricia Dunlop stepped out with a gun in her hand.

Ashley pivoted to run.

“Don’t move!”

She stiffened, cursing herself for not running as soon as the car turned down the driveway. The way her life had gone lately, she should have assumed the car would be carrying another person bent on killing her.

Mrs. Dunlop grabbed her and shoved Ashley in front of her like a shield as the Jeep jerked to a stop beside Dunlop’s car. But it wasn’t Dillon sitting in the driver’s seat. It was Chris Downing.

“Don’t come any closer,” the woman ordered, as she shoved her gun against Ashley’s spine, “or I’ll kill her.”

Chris slowly opened the door. “I’m just getting out of the car. I want to talk. I won’t come any closer.”

Dunlop turned the gun and pointed it at Chris. “I don’t want to talk. I’m taking this woman with me and we’re going to get my money. Close your door and get out of here right now.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

Bam!

Chris fell to the ground.

Ashley gasped in horror.

The gun fired again, but this time straight up in the air as Dillon wrenched it out of Mrs. Dunlop’s hand. Somehow he’d managed to sneak up behind them. He shoved the gun in his waistband at the small of his back and quickly handcuffed Mrs. Dunlop.

Chris rolled over and slowly staggered to his feet, rubbing his chest. “Son of a... You couldn’t grab her a second sooner?”

“Oh, quit whining. I got shot three times at Cooper’s Bluff.”

“Are you okay, Chris?” Ashley called out.

“He’s wearing a vest. He’s fine.”

Chris rubbed his chest. “Speak for yourself. Hurts like the devil.”

“Let me go,” Mrs. Dunlop yelled. “I demand you let me go. My lawyers are going to—”

“Shut up,” Ashley, Dillon and Chris all said at the same time.

Mrs. Dunlop snapped her mouth shut and glared at them.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Dillon asked Ashley. “We tried to warn you we found out she was working with Iceman.”

“Dead battery.”

He shook his head. “You have a problem replacing batteries, don’t you?”

“Everyone has their own crosses to bear in life. What happens now?”

“We take her back to the station and book her on attempted kidnapping and a host of other charges.”

“I didn’t kidnap her. I didn’t do anything. My lawyer—”

“Shut up,” they all said again.

She glared at them and muttered something under her breath.

“Do I have to stay in town now?” Ashley asked.

Dillon looked away. “No. You can give your statement over the phone once you’re home and settled in.”

Chris shook his head and glared at Dillon worse than Mrs. Dunlop had. He led her to the Jeep and settled her in the back, then handcuffed her to the roll bar.

Ashley sighed and reached into her jeans pocket. She held the locket out to Dillon.

He frowned and took it. “What’s this?”

“It was on the mantel at your parents’ house. My hand brushed against it when Iceman was pulling me out of the house. I’d forgotten it until I was packing to leave.”

She didn’t wait for him to open the locket. She got into her car, started the engine, then pulled into the yard, making a wide circle around Mrs. Dunlop’s car and the Jeep. When she reached the end of the gravel driveway, she couldn’t resist one final look back in her rearview mirror.

Dillon stood in the middle of the driveway, a good distance away from the cars, as if he might have run after her. But as she watched and waited, he turned away and headed back toward the Jeep, in no apparent hurry. If he
had
chased her, he’d obviously changed his mind.

She made it all the way to the interstate before she burst into tears.

Chapter Seventeen

Another long day of work, another day when Ashley wanted to do anything but step out of her home office and face the rest of her empty apartment. Which was why she was once again sitting on a bar stool, nursing a bottle of beer, staring into the mirror above the bar and wondering how she’d become the pathetic woman who was on a first-name basis with the bartender.

No, she didn’t really wonder. She knew the answer. Nearly two weeks ago she’d experienced the most terrifying, horrible and strangely wonderful days of her life. She’d suffered deep loss and numbing fear, and yet had somehow come out of the experience with an understanding of what really mattered, and a glimpse of a future that could have been...magical—if only Dillon hadn’t been too stubborn to recognize what he had right in front of him.

She tilted her bottle to her lips, then froze. In the mirror above the bar, familiar blue-gray eyes she never thought she’d see again locked onto her. Standing right behind her, looking taller than she remembered and sexier than any man had a right to look in a white button-up shirt tucked into blue jeans, was Dillon Gray.

His gaze slid away from hers. He sat on the bar stool beside her and ordered a bottle of beer from the bartender.

Ashley slowly set her bottle down and waited, watching him in the mirror. Her hungry gaze caressed every inch of those broad shoulders, those powerful arms that had protected her and then held her so sweetly, and the barely there stubble that made her fingers itch to touch him.

When his drink arrived, he took a long, slow pull, then set it down. He studied the polished wood surface in front of him as if it held all the secrets of the world. “Thank you for the locket. It means the world to my parents, and to me.” His deep voice stroked across Ashley’s nerve endings like the richest silk.

“You’re welcome,” she whispered, still in shock that he was even there.

His fingers idly drew tiny circles on the bar. “I suppose I could get used to a city. I could even live in a city, I suppose, if I had to. I hear they have horses in Nashville. It could work.” He took another deep sip of his beer.

Ashley took a drink, too, before she trusted her voice to respond. “I suppose I could get used to a small town again. After all, I spent most of my life in one. I’ve even heard
some
small towns are so advanced they actually have access to the internet, which would be really handy since I work from home sometimes.” She shrugged. “I could live there, I suppose, if I had to. It could work.”

His lips curved in a tiny smile that quickly faded. He reached into his shirt pocket and set something on the counter.

Ashley blinked at the tiny silver disc. “What is that?”

“A battery. For your key fob. I looked up your type of car on the internet to make sure I got the right one.”

Her throat tightened. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He nodded. “I’ve been told I have trust issues. I never got it before, but I’ve done a lot of thinking over the past thirteen days, ten hours and—” he looked at his watch “—twenty-three minutes. I realize now that sometimes I have to let others take the lead. And that I can’t really
live
if I don’t let others in, if I don’t share both the good and the bad with the people who matter most.” His gaze collided with hers in the mirror. “You matter, Ashley. You matter very, very much.”

Tears gathered in her eyes.

“Harmony was my baby sister,” he said, so quietly she almost didn’t hear him. “She died when I was at college. She was never a good swimmer, but she dove into a pool to save a friend instead of running to get someone else who was a better swimmer. They both drowned.” He closed his eyes briefly, as if in pain, then opened them again and recaptured her gaze. “I suppose I’ve always blamed myself for not teaching her to be a better swimmer. And I’ve always been...terrified...that someone would die on my watch someday, because I allowed the person who wasn’t as experienced or as good as me to jump in and take the lead. Like I said, it all comes down to trust. But I’m trying. I’m really trying.”

As he watched her in the mirror, he slowly slid his hand across the bar, palm up.

Ashley met him halfway and placed her hand in his. His fingers closed over hers, his gentle touch warming her all the way to her heart.

“Tell me about Harmony,” she whispered. “What was she like?”

His breath left him in a shaky rush, and for a moment she thought she’d pushed too far. But then his fingers gently squeezed hers.

“She was six years younger than me,” he began, haltingly at first. But as he continued to speak and share his memories of his beloved sister, his voice grew stronger and his smile widened. And for the first time since Ashley had met him, his smile finally reached his eyes.

The future didn’t worry her anymore. She didn’t care if she lived in a big city or a small town, because she’d finally discovered that home wasn’t about where you lived. It was about who you loved. And when she’d met Dillon Gray in a little town called Destiny, Tennessee, she’d finally found
her
destiny. How could she doubt that? After all, the man had given her what she needed most. She grinned and picked up the silver disc from the bar.

He’d given her a battery.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from RANCHER RESCUE by Barbe Han.

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Chapter One

Katherine Harper pushed up on all fours and spit dirt.
“Don’t take him. I’ll do whatever you say.”

The tangle of barbed wire squeezed around her calf. Pain seared
her leg.

“She got herself caught.” The man glared down at her. He
glanced toward the thicket, sized up the situation and turned to his partner.
“She’s not going anywhere.”

The first man whirled around. His lip curled. Hate filled his
eyes. “Leave her. We have the boy.”

“Kane won’t like it. He wants them both.”

“No. Please. My nephew has nothing to do with any of this.” She
kicked. Burning, throbbing flames scorched her ankle to her thigh. “I’ll give
you whatever you want. I’ll find the file.”

“We know you will. Involve the police and he’s dead,” the
second man warned. “We’ll be in touch.”

Noah screamed for her. She heard the terror in his voice. A
wave of hopelessness crashed through her as she struggled against the barbs,
watching the men disappear into the woods with her nephew.
Oh. God. No.

“He’s sick. He needs medicine,” she screamed through burning
lungs.

They disappeared without looking back.

Shards of pain shot up her leg. Fear seized her. The thick
trees closed in on her. Noah had been kidnapped, and she was trapped and
helpless.

“Please. Somebody.”

The thunder of hooves roared from somewhere in the distance.
She sucked in a quick breath and scanned the area. Were more men out there?

Everything had happened so fast. How long had they been
dragging her? How far into the woods was she?

All visual reminders of the pumpkin patch were long gone. No
open fields or bales of hay. No bursts of orange dotting the landscape. No
smells of animal fur and warmth. There was nothing familiar in her surroundings
now.

Judging from the amount of blood and the relentless razor-sharp
barbs digging into her flesh, she would bleed to death.

No. She wouldn’t die. Noah needed her to stay alive.
Noah.

Anger boiled inside her, heating her skin to flames. Katherine
had to save him. He had no one else. He was probably terrified, which could
bring on an asthma attack. Without his inhaler or medication, the episode could
be fatal.

Forcing herself to her feet, she balanced on her good side and
hopped. Her foot was slick with blood. Her shoe squished. Her knees buckled. The
cold, hard ground punished her shoulder on impact.

She scrambled on all fours and tried to crawl. The barbed wire
tightened like a coil. The ache in her leg was nothing compared to the agony in
her heart.

Exertion wasn’t good. Could she unwrap the mangled wire? Could
she free herself? Could she catch up?

Panic pounded her chest. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears.

The hooves came closer. Had the men sent company? Had her
screaming backfired, pinpointing her location?

Autumn foliage blanketed the ground, making it difficult to see
if there was anything useful to use against another attacker. She could hide.
But where?

The sounds of hooves pounding the unforgiving earth slowed.
Near. She swallowed a sob. He could do whatever he wanted to her while she was
trapped. Why had she made all that noise?

She fanned her hands across the ground. Was there anything she
could use as a weapon? The best one encased her leg, causing a slow bleed. She
needed to think. Come up with a plan. Could she use a sharp branch?

Biting back the pain, she scooted behind a tree and palmed a
splintered stick.

The thunderous drumming came to a stop. The horse’s labored
breath broke through the quiet.

An imposing figure dismounted, muttering a curse. His low
rumble of a voice sent chills up her neck.

Her pulse raced.

His boots firmly planted on the ground, Katherine got a good
look at him. He was nothing like her attackers. They’d worn dark suits and
sunglasses when they’d ambushed her and Noah. Everything about this man was
different.

He wore jeans, a button-down shirt and a black cowboy hat. He
had broad shoulders and lean hips. At his full height, he had to be at least six
foot two, maybe more.

A man who looked genuine and strong like him couldn’t be there
for the wrong reasons, could he? Still, who could she trust? Couldn’t murderers
be magnetic?

“What in hell is going on?” A shiver raced up her spine as he
followed the line of blood that would lead him right to her.

He took a menacing step toward her. Friend or enemy, she was
about to come face-to-face with him.

Katherine said a silent protection prayer.

Her equilibrium was off. Her head light. She closed her fingers
around the tree trunk tighter. Could she hold on long enough to make her
move?

A dimpled chin on a carved-from-granite face leaned toward her.
Brown eyes stared at her. She faltered.

Nope. Not a hallucination. This cowboy was real, and she was
getting weak. Her vision blurred. She had to act fast.

With a final push, Katherine stepped forward. Her knees buckled
and she stumbled.

* * *

I
N
ONE
QUICK
motion Caleb Snow
seized the stick being jabbed at his ribs and pinned the woman to the
ground.

She was gorgeous in her lacy white shirt. Her sea-green skirt
hiked up her thigh far enough to reveal a peek of her panties. Pale blue. He
swallowed hard. Tried not to think about his favorite color caressing her sweet
little bottom as he wrestled to keep her from stabbing him. The rest of her was
golden skin and long legs. She had just enough curves to make her feel like a
real woman, sensual and soft. “What’s wrong with you?”

The tangle of chestnut hair and limbs didn’t speak.

Was she afraid? Of him? Hell no. He took the stick and tossed
it. She kicked and punched.

“Hold still. I’m trying to help.”

“No. You’re not.”

“I will as soon as I’m sure you won’t try to poke me with that
stick.”

He’d turned his horse the moment he’d heard the screams that
sounded half wild banshee, half horror-film victim expecting to help, not be
attacked.

“You’re hurting me,” she yelped.

The tremor in her voice sliced through his frustration. Her
admission tore through him. The thought he added to her pain hit him hard. “Stop
trying to slap me, and I’ll get up.”

Her lips trembled. She looked at him—all big fearful eyes and
cherry lips—and his heart squeezed.

Those violet eyes stared up at him, sending a painful
recollection splintering through his chest. She had the same look of terror his
mother always had right before his father’d raised a hand to her. Caleb buried
the memory before it could take hold.

“Listen to me. I’m not going to hurt you.” Her almond-shaped
face, olive skin and soft features stirred an inappropriate sexual reaction.
Skin-to-skin contact was a bad idea. He shifted more of his weight onto his bent
knee.

Her breaths came out in short gasps. “Then let me go. I have to
find him before they get away.”

“As soon as I know you’re not gonna do something stupid, I
will. You’re not going anywhere until I get this off your leg. You want to tell
me what the hell’s going on? Who’s getting away?” Her actions were that of a
wounded animal, not a crazed murderer. He eased more weight off her, scanning
her for other injuries.

She recoiled. “Who are you?”

“Caleb Snow and this is my ranch.” He picked up the wire to
untangle her. Her pained cry pierced right through him. “Sorry about that.” He
eased the cable down carefully. “Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She’d seriously tangled her long, silky leg in barbed wire.
She’d lost a lot of blood. He couldn’t have her going into shock. “The more you
fight, the worse it’ll get. You’ve done a number on yourself already.”

Her eyelids fluttered.

Based on her pallor, she could lose consciousness if she didn’t
hold still. He stood and muttered a curse.

Her wild eyes looked up at him, pleading. “Some men took my
nephew. I don’t know who. They went that way.” She motioned toward the McGrath
ranch. Her voice cracked and he could see she was struggling not to cry. Tears
fell anyway.

“The wire has to come off first. Then we’ll take a look. Don’t
watch me. It’ll only hurt worse. Tell me your name.” A stab of guilt pierced him
at the pain he was about to cause. The weight of her body had impaled the rusty
steel barbs deep into her flesh.

Her head tilted back as she winced. She gasped but didn’t
scream, her eyes still radiating distrust.

“Hold on. I have something that can help.” He pulled wire
cutters and antibiotic wipes from his saddlebag. He tied a handkerchief below
her knee to stem the bleeding.

“Promise you won’t leave me here?”

“Now why would I do that?” One by one, he pulled the barbs out
of her skin, giving her time to breathe in between. “Tell me more about the
men.”

“They. Were. Big.” The words came through quick bursts of
breath.

He pulled the last barb and stuck his hand out, offering a help
up.

Hers felt soft and small. A jolt of electricity shot up Caleb’s
arm. Normally he’d enjoy feeling a sexual spark. This wasn’t the time or
place.

“I need to go that way.” She pointed north, grasping at the
tree.

“You’re hurt. On my property, that means you don’t go anywhere
until I know you’re okay. Besides, you still haven’t told me why you’re out here
to begin with.”

“Where is here?” she asked, dodging his question.

“The TorJake Ranch.” How did she not know where she was? A
dozen scenarios came to mind. None he liked. He took a step toward her. She was
too weak to put up a fight. He wrapped his arm around her waist for support.
“You aren’t going anywhere like this. Start talking and I might be able to help.
I have medical supplies at the house. But you’ll explain why you’re on my land
or I’ll call the sheriff. We clear?”

“Please. Don’t. I’ll tell you everything.” He’d struck a
nerve.

He should call Sheriff Coleman. No good ever came from a woman
caught in a situation like this. But something about her made Caleb wait.

“My name is Katherine Harper. I took my nephew to a pumpkin
patch.” She glanced around. “I’m not sure which way.”

“The Reynolds’ place.” Was it the fear in her eyes, or the
tremble to her lips that hit him somewhere deep? He didn’t care. He was
intrigued.

“Sounds right. Anyway, two men in suits came from nowhere and
grabbed us. They dragged us through the woods...here...until I got caught up.
Then...”

Tears streaked her cheeks. “They took off with him.”

The barbed wire had been cut. The McGrath ranch was on the
other side of the fence. He’d have to ask about that. Of course, he preferred to
deal with creatures of the four-legged variety or something with a motor.

“We’ll figure this out.”

Caleb assessed her carefully.

Her vulnerable state had his instincts sounding alarm
bells.

Copyright © 2014 by Barb Han