High Desert Haven (The Shepherd's Heart) (33 page)

William clenched his jaw. Curse it all! Something was not right. Why would the sheriff be asking about Roland? And Nicki certainly had been acting strange today.

Once out of sight of the Hanging T he paused to contemplate his next move. He’d better stick around and see if his worries were justified. Spitting on the ground, he turned his mount and circled to a small cluster of Junipers. Leaving his horse there, he belly-crawled up the hill until he could peer down into the valley. He settled down to wait. He intended to find out what was going on at the Hanging T.

Half an hour later a sharp whistle pierced the air, and Nicki hurried to the door, scanning the horizon.

Jason, Ron, two of the new hands, Conner, and Rocky rode into view, herding the most magnificent lot of horses Nicki had ever seen.

Covering her mouth with one hand, Nicki blinked back tears of joy and amazement. Another sharp whistle pierced her reverie. Dashing across the yard, she opened the corral gate, yelling for Rolf to come out of the barn. He stepped out beside her as she watched the herd coming down the slope. She clutched her throat, the tears falling freely. They had done it!
Gracias, Jesus!

“Well, I’ll be!” Rolf whispered in wonder.

The lead stallion, a beautiful white creature with the longest cornsilk mane Nicki had ever seen, arched his neck. His head bobbed this way and that, the whites of his eyes clearly visible as his nostrils flared wide, and he searched for a means of escape.

Rocky, riding at the back of the thundering mass, gave a sharp whistle. “Ho! Get on there!” His whip cracked just to the outside of a mare trying to dart away from the herd and she shied back into line.

The white stallion dodged, trying to lead his pack away from the looming trap, but Jason and Ron rode on either side of him, giving no quarter. He had nowhere to go but into the corral. He darted in. Snorting and pawing, he cantered a quick circle. For one moment Nicki thought he would leap the fence. Then shaking his head, mane flying, he trotted into the barn, his milling brood of mares following right behind.

Rocky urged the last horse into the pen, then reached down and latched the gate.

Swinging down from his horse, Jason tipped back his hat, grabbed Nicki by the waist and twirled her around in a wide circle. “We did it!” He grinned.

“I can see that.” She laughed, clutching the lapels of his coat for dear life. He set her back on her feet and tucked her close.

Her heart raced as though she’d been running right alongside the herd. He swallowed, his blue eyes roving over her face. “God is good.”

“Si.”
She swallowed. “William was here a little while ago,” she whispered.

His eyes never left her face. “Don’t worry about it.” He tapped her nose. “He won’t have time to make any trouble now. Cade rode to town to wire his father. We settled on fifty dollars a head. I picked out nine of them for us to keep. The rest he bought.”

Nicki quickly did the math and then gasped at the price. “That gives us extra money to work with even after we pay off the land and the Jeffries’ place!”

He nodded.

Gracias, Señor
.

Both realized at the same moment that they were the center of attention.

Jason let go of her waist and stepped back, settling his hat straight on his head.

Rocky grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s go get some coffee.”

The men headed for the soddy, but Nicki was transfixed. She couldn’t move. She could only stare at the horses. They were beautiful—the most beautiful thing she’d seen in a long time.

She wiped tears from her cheeks with the flats of her fingers. Freedom. A home for Sawyer and the new little one. A bright future. All milling around in front of her in a collage of blacks, browns, reds, and creams.

She climbed onto the bottom rail of the corral to reach over and pet one of the animals.

The sound of a pistol cocking made Nicki look up. Her awe over the horses dissipated like fog touched by the first rays of the sun. William stood at the corner of the barn; his head and gun arm all she could see.

He centered the aim of the pistol on her chest. “Don’t make a sound, or you are going to leave one little boy all alone in this world.”

18

Tom Roland was not usually home at this hour of the day. But he’d received the shock of this life this morning and so, for the first time in weeks, he headed home for lunch instead of to the Boarding House Café. He needed a stronger drink than was socially acceptable for this time of day. Maybe two.

The money had come through to pay off the Trent property. Not only that, but the loan he’d made to the Jeffries had also been paid off. And this morning he’d received a wire from his ranch manager. Something had stampeded his herd at the ranch, and over half his cattle had been killed when they tumbled into the Deschutes canyon.

His jaw clenched. His plans were crumbling before his eyes. The Stockman’s Association was not pleased with the job he’d done, and he knew there would be more repercussions to come. That’s what he got for hiring his work done, instead of just doing it himself. William had obviously failed.

He slammed through the front door and stormed into the foyer. Voices filtered down the stairs. He stilled. Paused to listen.

Vanessa’s laughter. And a man’s response.

Tom ground his teeth. Not again. He’d thought they’d made it past all this. Rage started to rise somewhere around his knees and made his legs quake as he took the stairs three at a time. “Vanessa!” he bellowed as he rounded the banister on the top floor. The pearl-handled Colt, still in its holster, felt cool to his palm. He launched himself against her bedroom door. “Vanessa!”

The door to the bedroom splintered inward, and he crashed through the portal.

Vanessa gasped and snatched for her robe.

He took in the scene, fury blinding him to everything but the two people in the room.

“Tom.”

That was the voice she used when she wanted to calm him. He pressed his lips together and scanned her from head to toe. It was not going to work this time. She’d picked the wrong day to betray him again. Blasted woman! He should have washed his hands of her years ago. Fury made him quake. He spun in a wide roundhouse, sending his foot through the panel of the door.

The wall rattled as the door crashed against it and bounced back.

The man, still snatching for his clothing, jumped straight up and froze, wide eyes fixed on Tom, his pants clutched to his chest.

For one electric moment they stood looking at each other and then, suddenly, a gun appeared in the man’s hand.

Tom blinked. “Who are you?”

A hard smile split his opponent’s lips. “Name’s Jonas. The Association sent me. Seems they ain’t too happy with the job you done over Prineville way. I’m the clean-up man.”

Tom clenched his jaw. “What are you doing with Vanessa?”

Jonas smirked. “Had me some time on my hands, whilst I waited for you ta git home. She’s a passing pleasant diversion. Don’t suppose I’ll be able to leave’er alive, though, once I’m done.”

Vanessa screamed and curled her head into her arms, trembling like a wind-blown leaf.

Fear coiled in Tom’s belly and he spread his hands, down by his hips, but wide enough to offer no threat. There was only one way to deal with this situation—to take the man out while he wasn’t expecting it.
Talk to him; that will throw him off guard
. “Let’s be calm now, we can work this—!”

In that moment, when his words were still a slight distraction, he threw himself down onto one knee and palmed his gun.

Jonas pulled the trigger a hair too late. The bullet grazed harmlessly over Tom’s right shoulder and sank into the wood of the door frame.

Tom’s bullets did not miss. Two holes appeared in the fabric of the pants Jonas had clutched to his chest and with a strangled grunt he fell to his knees.

Tom eyed the man, swaying there on his knees, blood pumping from the wounds in his chest in spurts, and let loose the breath he’d been holding. He relaxed his aim, his Colt dropping to his side. He had no desire to watch the man die, whoever he might be. Turning, he leaned his arms against the lintel of the door.

When he heard Vanessa get shakily to her feet, he glanced over his shoulder. She stood trembling at the foot of the bed, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Get dressed, Vanessa.”

“No!” Vanessa screamed.

At first he thought she was screaming at him. But even as he turned, he heard the gunshot.

Vanessa crumpled at Tom’s feet. Her eyes glazed lifelessly. Tom stumbled back a step, looked up.

Shock spread across Jonas’ face as he gaped at Vanessa. His bullet obviously hadn’t been meant for her.

Tom blinked once, and then his bullet took the man through the forehead.

Jonas toppled, his gun sliding across the room and thudding to a stop against the bureau.

Tom stared at it in stunned silence. Resting there. A snub-nosed derringer. So oddly out of place against the beautiful grain of the oak flooring.

Reality slammed home, and he sank to his knees at Vanessa’s side. The blood drained from his face at the sight of her body, cocked at an odd angle, lifeless eyes staring at the wall.

“Dear God! What did they do?” Tom clutched his head, his eyes darting about the room in wild panic. He couldn’t live without Vanessa. “Vanessa!” He reached for her, pulling her against his chest as he buried his face in her hair.

This was his fault. He should have taken care of things himself instead of trusting to William!

“Vanessa, forgive me.” He choked on a sob as full realization of what had just happened penetrated. He held her for a long time, until finally his shock hardened into brutal anger.

Hands shaking, he laid her back down, covering her carefully with a blanket. He had some revenge to take.

Nicki glanced from the gun to William’s face and stepped down from the corral fence, her fists clenched by her sides.
Dear Jesus, dear Jesus, dear Jesus
. She was holding her breath, she realized, and slowly let it out, lifting her hands. “William, whatever this is about, we can work it out.”

“Shut up! Just shut up. Get over here, now!” He gestured with the gun, his eyes flicking back and forth between her and the door to the soddy.

Nicki trembled even as she moved to comply. How had she thought she knew the man so well?

“Up on the horse!” he commanded, jabbing the barrel of the gun painfully into her ribs as soon as she was out of sight of the house.

Heart thundering, she climbed into the saddle. In a flash, William swung up behind her and kicked the horse into a gallop. The horse dashed up and over the hill—only visible to the house for a few seconds as they crested the rise.

They rode hard for 10 minutes. With each passing moment Nicki expected to hear her rescuer’s hoofbeats behind them. But none came. None.

William reined the horse down into a little gully and leaped down, roughly pulling her after him.

Her foot caught in the stirrup and she almost fell but was able to maintain her footing. She blinked back tears, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry, even as fear slammed through her chest.

He took her by a shoulder and squeezed, the fingers of one hand digging into her flesh like fiery daggers. The point of the gun bit painfully into the soft flesh under her chin. His voice shook. “Blasted, confounded woman! Why didn’t you just let me marry you and have done with it! I was trying to protect you! Now—”

He jerked her after him down a barely visible trail. Her arm flung backwards and she stumbled several steps before settling into a jog behind him.

“Now, there’s just me to worry about. I have to protect myself, you see. With you out of the way, and me offering to run the ranch until Sawyer comes of age, well, you can see how that will work for my good, now, can’t you?” He stopped at the base of a small hill and swiveled toward her so quickly that she smashed into his chest with a whimper. His voice softened. “Why wouldn’t you just marry me?” He laid the barrel of the gun alongside her temple, his eyes roving over her face with odd detachment. He swallowed thickly and his grip tightened. The point of the gun dug into her temple.