Authors: R. C. Ryan
He slid from the saddle and turned to Meg, hauling her roughly from her horse. When she lost her balance and fell to her knees he grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her upright.
With his hand digging into her shoulder he gave her a shove and she staggered ahead of him toward the shack.
The door, though still padlocked, was swinging open on one rusty hinge.
Blain swore viciously and flung the door wide, filling the space with light.
The little shed was empty. A trail of blood spilled across the floor and out the door.
The little bastard!” Blain was in a full-blown fury. The look on his face had gone from incredulous to mind-numbing rage in the blink of an eye. “If he makes it home, everybody will know about this place.”
Blain saw Meg look hopefully toward the door.
“Don’t even think about making a dash for it.” He used a booted foot to kick her backward into the dirty straw. Picking up the bloody ropes that had bound Cory he began tying her hands behind her back. When he was finished he leered at her torn shirt, revealing a lacy bra and a great deal of bare flesh. “Too bad there’s no time now. But maybe later.”
He saw the way she shuddered and threw back his head and laughed. “Guess you’re not so high and mighty now, are you, counselor?” His laugh turned into a sneer. “You’re all the same. Strip away the fancy clothes and fancy titles, and you turn into weak little crybabies.”
Meg sucked in a breath as he pulled the ropes as tight as possible, determined to hurt her, before getting to his feet. But his words had strengthened her resolve to show no weakness. Though the pain of her bonds was another jolt to her already overcharged system, she refused to cry or let him see just how desperately afraid she felt.
He emptied her shoulder bag and checked the money. When he saw the pile of tens and twenties, he stuffed it back into the bag and smiled. “At least something’s going right. Now we have to get out of here and fast. And since the brat managed to escape, it looks like you’ve just become my insurance.” He gave a mirthless laugh. “That’s a good one. The big-shot lawyer has just become my stay-out-of-jail card.”
Jake read Raven’s message, which had gone out to everyone involved in the operation.
All contact with Meg Stanford has been severed. It can only mean the wire was discovered. She and the boy are now at the mercy of a desperate criminal. We believe Blain Turner to be armed and dangerous. Proceed with extreme caution.
Raven’s words had him desperate to find Meg and Cory.
He came up over a hill, his gaze sweeping from one side of the pasture to the other. He noted the dense woods and decided to ride closer. It could hide any number of wooden structures.
Before he could follow through on his intention, he caught a blur of movement out of the corner of his eye.
Was that a horse up ahead just cresting that ridge? He urged his own mount into a gallop, and as he made it to the top of the next hill he couldn’t believe his eyes.
Shadow. There was no mistaking the colt. And on his back, Cory.
He knew there was no sense shouting. The boy and horse were too far ahead to hear, and they appeared to be riding like the wind. Urging his horse even faster, he began to slowly catch up.
As he came up even with the colt he reached over and grabbed the reins. Cory looked over, pale as a ghost, and seemed about to fight until he recognized Jake.
From the other side of the hill came a flurry of horsemen, and as Jake slid from the saddle and gathered Cory into his arms, he and the boy found themselves surrounded by Meg’s wranglers, with Yancy Jessup in the lead.
“Where’d the boy come from?” Yancy remained in the saddle, staring down at them in surprise.
“I just spotted him.” Jake felt the boy’s small body shaking with nerves, and sought to soothe him by running a hand over his head and back. “It’s okay, Cory. You’re safe now.”
The boy continued clinging to Jake’s neck as though attached by Velcro.
Gently Jake eased Cory’s arms from his neck and stared down into his eyes. “Was Meg the one who freed you?”
Please,
he thought,
let it be so.
Cory shook his head, dashing any hope. “I spent all night working on my ropes. I just got free now.”
“Then you haven’t seen Meg?”
“Isn’t she with you?”
“She’s with Blain Turner.”
The boy’s eyes went wide with horror. “He promised not to hurt her. But he lied. He lied.”
“Cory, listen to me.” Jake closed his hands over the boy’s upper arms, seeking to still his protest. “If Blain doesn’t know that you’ve escaped, it stands to reason that he’s taking Meg there right now. Can you take me to the place where you were being held?”
He could see the sheer terror on Cory’s face, and it pained him to force the boy back to that place again. But it had to be done. And quickly.
Cory swallowed. Nodded. “It’s not far.”
As Jake and Cory pulled themselves into their saddles, Jake turned to Yancy. “Do you have weapons up in the hills?”
The old man nodded. “Up at the bunkhouse.”
“I need you to get all you have and follow our trail.”
As he wheeled his mount, Jake called his father on his cell phone.
At the sound of Cole’s voice Jake said, “No time to explain. Cory escaped. He’s taking me to where he was held, since I believe that’s where Blain is headed with Meg.” He gave his father the approximate location, then ended by saying, “Call the others. Get them here right away. Especially the state police and Raven’s people.”
“It’s in there.” Cory brought Shadow to a halt and pointed toward the dark, dense woods. From their vantage point in the sunlight the forest seemed even darker and more menacing than ever.
“Good boy. I want you to stay here with the horses. If you spot Blain coming this way, ride as fast as you can toward Yancy and the wranglers. And make sure you take my horse along, so Blain has no way of escaping, except on foot.”
Cory’s eyes were wide. “But aren’t you going to stop him, Jake?”
“I will. Or die trying.” Jake slipped his rifle from the boot of his saddle, wishing he had a handgun. He handed Cory the hunting knife he always carried. “Keep this with you. Just in case.”
He turned away and started into the woods. Within a few hundred yards he spotted the shed. As he crept closer he could see that the door was wide open. There was no sign of life.
He inched close enough to see that the shed was empty. He was too late. A wave of bitter disappointment washed over him, filling him with a sense of dread.
He was about to turn away when a sound alerted him that he wasn’t alone. Taking aim with his rifle he started forward.
When Jake was halfway there Blain stepped out from behind the shed. He was holding Meg in front of him like a shield. He held a small, shiny pistol to her temple.
“Well now.” Blain’s voice was oddly high-pitched with excitement. “Looks like I’ll get a chance to test my little ticket right here.” He waved the handgun. “Toss the rifle, or—” he gave a shrill, mad laugh “—you know the drill, don’t you, cowboy?”
“Don’t, Jake.” Meg’s voice trembled. “He’s lying. You can’t trust him.”
“If you listen to the smart counselor here, she’ll get to die before your eyes.” He tightened his arm around her neck, cutting off her breath. “Or you can be smart and do as you’re told.”
Jake saw the way Meg clawed at Blain’s arm, which only caused the gunman to tighten it even more until she went limp.
Tamping down on the fury building inside him, Jake tossed his rifle.
Blain loosened his grasp, and Meg began coughing and sucking air into her starved lungs.
“Stay strong, Meg.” Jake’s words, spoken softly, had her lifting her head to look at him.
“Ah, now, isn’t that sweet?” Blain laughed. “She’d better stay strong. She’s going to need all the strength she can find. This pretty little counselor and I are heading to Canada.”
Jake glanced around. “By horseback?”
“Truck,” Meg said. “He claims he stashed it a mile from here.”
“Where’d you get the truck?” Jake was desperate to distract Blain by getting him to talk.
“Borrowed it from a rancher who didn’t have any use for it. Since he’s dead.” Blain couldn’t help boasting. “Speaking of dead…” He gave Meg a rough shove that had her dropping to one knee. “Kick that rifle over here.”
With her hands bound behind her back, Meg stumbled to her feet and kicked at the rifle.
Jake waited until Blain bent over to retrieve it. Using that moment of distraction he shoved Meg out of the way and made a dive for the gunman.
His timing was a second off. Blain’s gun fired just as Jake reached for his hand.
Blood spurted from Jake’s shoulder. Fighting the pain, Jake knocked the pistol from Blain’s grasp. It fell to the ground and the two rolled over and over, fighting for control of his weapon.
Cory heard the sound of the gunshot and his little body jerked in a spasm of terror. Had it been Jake’s rifle discharging? Or Blain’s gun?
He stood perfectly still, frozen to the spot, unable to go or to stay.
If he went into the woods and only Blain was left, he’d be walking right into a trap. But how could he stay here without knowing whether or not Jake and Meg were alive?
In the end, his worry about Meg and Jake overcame the very real terror he was experiencing at the thought of facing down Blain Turner yet again.
Tethering the horses to a nearby tree limb, he stepped into the woods and made his way toward the shed, the one place he’d hoped to never see again.
Chief Everett Fletcher was with the state police when the call came through from Big Jim Conway that Cory was safe and leading Jake to the place where he’d been held.
“Jake shouldn’t go in there alone.” Everett was shouting into his phone, to be heard above the sound of the police helicopter.
“You know there’s no stopping him,” Big Jim said. “Where are you, Chief?”
“Heading toward the south pasture. Our copter should be there in about five minutes.”
“We’re over the spot now, and ready to land.”
“Wait for us,” Everett shouted, but the line had already gone dead. Not that he’d expected Big Jim or Cole to acknowledge his order. The Conway men had always played by their own rules. Why should this time be any different?
He turned to the pilot to relay the destination. Then he leaned forward to watch as they began their descent.
After getting word from Big Jim, Quinn and Cheyenne turned their ATVs toward the pasture between Conway land and Stanford land. Along the way they picked up Josh and Sierra, and the four of them fairly flew across meadows alive with wildflowers.
It seemed incongruous that such a serene, peaceful meadow could be the setting for violence.
When they came to the spot where Cory had tethered the horses, they turned off their engines and looked around for some sign of life.
Just then the Cessna circled once and came in low and fast for a clean, easy landing in the pasture. Minutes later Cole and Big Jim came rushing toward them.
“Where’s Cory?” Big Jim demanded.
“Not here.” Quinn pointed to Shadow. “But his colt is here. And so is Jake’s.” His eyes narrowed. “I say we head into the woods and see if we can find them.”
“I’m right behind you.” Josh turned to Sierra. “You and Cheyenne stay here with the vehicles.”
“Oh, right. Like that’s going to happen.” Tight-lipped, Cheyenne strode behind her husband, and Sierra followed suit. With Cole and Big Jim taking up the rear, they marched single file into the dense woods.
Minutes later, Yancy Jessup and his wranglers came riding up, bearing weapons. They tethered their horses beside the Cessna and started into the woods.
Jake and Blain were fighting for their lives. With every bone-jarring blow, they poured themselves into it, knowing only one of them would walk away.
Both men were lean and tough from their years of ranch chores, but the wound to Jake’s shoulder was taking its toll, draining his strength.
What Blain lacked in muscle he made up for in determination. He was desperate, and he knew that every minute counted. If he didn’t soon break away, the authorities would catch up with him.
Aloud he shouted, “They’re never taking me to jail. Never. Even if I have to die in this godforsaken wilderness, I’ll fight you to the last breath, Conway.”
The toes of his work boots were steel, and he knew how to use them. Launching his booted foot he kicked Jake as hard as he could in the groin. With Jake doubled over, he moved in for the kill. As he knelt in the grass and fumbled for his pistol, Jake brought his head up directly into Blain’s face. The sound of bone on bone had Blain moaning in pain as his broken nose became a fountain of blood.
Jake followed that with a fist to the jaw that had Blain slumping backward.
Before Jake could grab the pistol, Blain’s boot found Jake’s head, opening a gash that had blood streaming down the side of his face, spilling into his eyes and blinding him.
“Stop. Don’t hurt him.”
Hearing Cory’s voice, Jake shook his head, struggling to clear it.
“It’s me you want,” the boy pleaded. “If you let him live, I’ll go with you. I swear I will.”
Jake could barely make out the image of the little boy through the blood that was obscuring his vision. He wiped blood from his eyes. When he sat back on his heels, everything stopped swimming in front of him, and for a moment he could make out Blain’s face, wearing a twisted smile.
And then he felt Blain’s pistol pressed against his chest.
“Too late, brat. This cowboy’s time is up.”
With her hands bound behind her back, Meg watched helplessly as Jake and Blain fought like madmen. When she saw Cory break through the dense woods into the clearing, her poor heart nearly stopped.
Alive. Cory was alive. Before she could savor that knowledge, she realized that he had now come charging back into danger. He’d risked his safety for hers and Jake’s.
When Blain suddenly took control of the pistol, pointing it at Jake’s chest, she whirled around and held out her bound hands toward the little boy, begging him without words to free her, desperately hoping he understood.