“Beats the bullet getting a clear aim to your heart,” Brock hissed back. “Quit being such a baby.”
“Baby—“
“Enough.” Cade wanted to rap both their heads together. Now was not the time for another of their infernal arguments.
Brock had stepped from the shadows of the curved staircase that led upstairs. He walked out, a dark silhouette moving dangerously through the darkness. He was more controlled, quieter and less intense than his twin.
“Where’s Marly?” Cade’s voice was strained and concerned.
“Still sleeping on the couch. I left her there.” Brock nodded to the opened door of the study. “All things considered, maybe we shouldn’t let her sleep in her room for a while.”
“Why?” Cade’s eyes narrowed on Brock’s expressionless face as he neared them silently.
“Come upstairs, I’ll show you why. I saw it right after you left.” Brock moved quickly up the steps as they followed. “After Marly went to sleep, the cattle started acting funny in the pasture out back. So, I locked everything up, shut out all the lights and started watching. I didn’t see anything until I got to Marly’s room.”
He opened the door to Marly’s bedroom, careful to stay against the wall as he entered rather than moving into the center of the room. Edging along silently, he came up beside the glass balcony doors.
“Look out there, and tell me what you see.” He nodded into the night. Ducking to use the cover of the balcony railing, Cade slid over to the other side of the doors. Leaning over slowly, he stared outside. The night was moonless, a thick Lora Leigh
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cover of clouds making the land darker than usual and filled with shadows. At first Cade didn’t see anything. He knew the area the stalker was most likely taking the pictures from, so he centered his attention there. It only took a few minutes to see what Brock had seen.
A flare of light in the darkness, the strike of a lighter or a match as tobacco was lit. As Cade watched closer, he was able to pick out a shape moving against the boulders on the furthest point as a shaft of moonlight lit up the inky darkness.
“He’s watching her room,” Cade said softly. “That’s why he wasn’t at the cabin.”
“He could be using infrared glasses too,” Brock said softly. “I watched him for a while through my own. He can see everything going on from the house, and would know the minute anyone set out for that rise, in any direction.”
“Are you sure he’s using them?” Cade asked carefully.
Brock breathed roughly. “Not sure, but I wouldn’t doubt it. None of our men have seen him, and if he didn’t know what the hell was going on down here, he would have been caught by now.”
“We’ll trap him. He has to leave sometime. We’ll let more of the cattle out into the pasture there, and give the impression we’re working it tomorrow. That should run him off again until dark,” Sam murmured. “He would come back soon. The man’s obsessed.”
Cade watched the area, considering Sam’s plan. It had merit, but it required waiting, and taking a chance that they missed him entirely. He was there now, watching the house, waiting to see Marly. Undressing. Cade gritted his teeth, wondering how many times the bastard had watched her dress, or undress. His fists clenched with the need for violence.
“This room is easily watched from that rise,” Brock told them as they continued to stare at the high rising hill. “Cade, yours is harder. But if the bastard is intent on grabbing her, he’s gonna be damned hard to catch this way. We’re cowboys, not Green Beret’s.”
Cade swiped the hat from his head, running his fingers through his hair worriedly. Brock was right, they weren’t soldiers and had no idea how to be. But a man didn’t have to be a soldier to track a rabid animal. And the one on that rise could be nothing else.
“We tell Marly about this, it’s going to terrify her,” he said softly, moving carefully from the window. “Let’s get downstairs, I need to check on her. There’s no way to watch that son of a bitch from here for long. He could sneak away and we’d never know it.”
They moved from the bedroom, using the same route they had entered, careful to stay away from the window just in case the infrared binoculars were being used.
“Cade, remember that pair of investigators the Stewarts used a year or so ago when that kidnapper tried to take their daughter?” Sam asked as they made their way down the stairs. “They caught four guys, and rescued the girl on the last attempt. Maybe we Lora Leigh
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need to check into that. Brock’s right, we’re cowboys, not hot shot bodyguards or military types.”
Cade breathed out roughly. His heart was pounding sluggishly in his chest, fear moving through him. They entered the study quietly, and Cade saw immediately that Brock had closed the shades on the balcony doors.
Marly was sleeping where he had left her, her hair fanning and falling around her, her face composed and innocent in sleep. He breathed out deeply, relief nearly overwhelming him. Brock and Sam were quiet behind him, but Cade had nearly forgotten they were there anyway.
She was lying on her back, her face turned towards him, her lips parted as she breathed deeply. Cade went to his knees beside her, his finger touching a curl that teased her cheek and moved it back gently. She whispered his name, turning toward him, reaching for him even when unaware of his presence. Cade lowered his head, his heart clenching with pain. How in the hell was he going to protect her from this?
“Get two of the boys in here. Brock, you come with me. Sam, you stay. Get Marly the hell out of here if you don’t hear from us soon.” He rose to his feet, moving quickly from the room.
“What the hell are you going to do, Cade?” Sam whispered fiercely. “Dammit, you aren’t going out there?”
Cade went to the door, motioning two of the half dozen cowboys he had left waiting on the porch, the others came to attention when they saw his face. The night wasn’t over.
“You two stay here with, Sam—“
“Dammit, I’m not staying anywhere,” Sam bit out. “If you and Brock go, then I go.”
“What about Marly?” Cade turned to him furiously. “If something happens to us, who will take care of Marly, Sam? Who will get her out of here and make sure she’s safe?”
Sam grimaced in indecision.
“Cade’s right, Sam.” Brock checked the pistol he was carrying on his thigh, then grabbed his rifle from where he had propped it against the wall.
“Then you stay,” Sam bit out.
“I’ve done my babysitting for the night,” Brock informed him harshly, but Cade knew it had nothing to do with sitting with Marly. Sam didn’t have the hard core of violence Cade and Brock carried. “Your turn at it, bro.”
“Stop trying to protect me,” Sam bit out, watching the other two with a furious glare. “Dammit, what happened to the ‘we’re not Green Berets’ bit? This is stupid. Marly needs us all.”
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“And we need Marly, Sam, or have you forgot that?” Cade bit out. “Whoever that bastard is out there, he’s not playing with a full deck. Do you want to risk her this way?”
Cade watched Sam grimace. Pure fury lit his face and his gaze, but he knew there was no other way.
“Dammit, be careful,” he growled. “And remember, you two bite it, and this ranch will go to hell. Be damned if I’ll try to run it alone.”
For a few moments, Cades eyes widened. Hell, Marly was more important than the ranch, but still—he was going to have make certain he was damned careful. This ranch was Marly’s livelihood.
“Let’s go.” Cade headed out the door with Brock following close behind. Cade waited until he heard the lock snap into place, then he turned to the other four cowboys.
“Brock, take two with you and head up the west slope. I’ll take the other two and head up the east. Hopefully, we can catch him between us.”
Terse nods greeted his orders. Staying low and moving carefully around the house, they kept a close eye on the area pinpointed as the stalker’s location. It was nothing more than shadow, the entire area. Impossible to make out, or to catch movement this far below the bench where he hid.
The moon was tucked carefully behind clouds, its rays blocked from the land below. It left the area in a blanket of deep night, usually not a concern. Unless there was a mad man with a gun hiding within it.
Cade and the two cowboys following him stuck to the shadows as they made their way through the back pasture. The trees that had been allowed to grow there provided them with a bit of cover, meager though it was. The cloudless night helped all it could.
“Spread out,” Cade ordered the men following him as they started up the rise.
“And be careful, for God’s sake.”
The rise was a tall hill, not really a mountain, but steep and tall just the same. It sloped up nearly a half mile, with a flat bench near the top. On that bench, hidden behind the concealment of large boulders, sat the stalker. Cade gritted his teeth in fury as he began a parallel path up to that bench. The son of a bitch was watching her, taking pictures of her, and only God knew what he had planned.
The shadows were long and deep on the hill, the trees sheltering as he moved along them carefully. He fought to move his body soundlessly through the underbrush and dried twigs. It wasn’t easy, though, to clear a path as he went. Damned if he knew how the Indians used to do it. One thing was damned sure, they didn’t try to do it in boots. Still, he moved slowly, if in silence up the hill. He kept a careful watch on the bench above him, wondering, waiting.
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Cade well admitted the stupidity of even trying to catch the crazy bastard, but he was pissed. Those pictures of Marly had sent his rage level out the roof. He wanted to kill the man who dared to violate her in such a way.
Moving stealthily, Cade neared the bench, his eyes narrowed in the darkness, searching for any sign of movement that would indicate the stalker’s location. There was nothing. The wildlife in the surrounding trees and brush were silent. Not even a birdcall, or the click of a cricket.
Stepping carefully, he moved along a small stand of trees perpendicular to the bench, straining to catch a glimpse of movement. Anything. There was nothing. Moving carefully, Cade turned to try another angle when wood flew from the tree behind him. Almost instantaneously, the sharp retort of a rifle followed. Cade dropped to the ground as he brought his own rifle up, scurrying to find cover among the trees and small boulders that littered the lower end of the bench. The shots kept coming, followed closely by rounds being returned from the cowboys below. But that didn’t keep the bullets from coming his way. Another sheared off rock above his head, causing pebble-sized pieces to fall around him. Aiming haphazardly into the area the shots were coming from, Cade fired off several rounds of his own, then jumped to his feet, heading for a larger tree several feet in front of him. He was almost there when the bullet hit him. It flung him backwards as it punched into his shoulder, causing him to land heavily on his back. He shook his head with a tight movement, fighting the pain as he raised his gun and fired again.
“Boss, he’s moving,” one of the cowboys called out.
Cade fired again as he came painfully to his knees, following the swift running shadow disappearing around the rise.
“Dammit, he’s getting away,” Brock’s voice was filled with fury. Lumbering to his feet, Cade held the rifle in one hand and moved as fast as he could push himself, to follow the assailant. Son of a bitch, he cursed. He couldn’t believe the bastard had actually managed to shoot him. But his shoulder and chest felt like a boulder was resting on it, and fire was laid to it. Oh yeah, the bastard had definitely managed to shoot him. The pain of it was like an animal gnawing on raw flesh. Breathing harshly, adrenaline and rage surging through his body, Cade grew closer to the assailant, his legs pushing him further, faster, despite the wrenching agony in his shoulder. When he was only mere feet from him, Cade launched his body at the man in a rolling tackle that would have done him proud ten years before, but he swore was killing him the minute he collided with the big body.
There was no time to enjoy his success or moan over the agony. With his arms gripping the long legs, Cade took him down. But one powerful kick from boot-covered feet into his wounded shoulder had him releasing him just as fast as the pain ground into his brain with sickening force. A sharp kick to his ribs didn’t help matters.
“Bastard,” a voice growled above him. “You touched her. Now you die.”
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Cade blinked up at the pistol aimed at him.
“Cade!” Brock’s voice echoed from the darkness, a gunshot reverberated around the hillside, and the assailant, deciding to use caution rather than fury, ran again.
“Boss, you okay?” One of the cowboys was quickly at his side.
“Dammit, Cade. Are you hit?” A flashlight was quickly turned on, the brilliant light blinding him. “A couple of the boys followed him, but he had a hell of a head start on us.”
Brock knelt at his side, his fingers probing at the gunshot wound.
“It went on through,” Cade wheezed, still clutching his ribs. “But I swear the son of a bitch must have busted my ribs with that kick.”
“Damn. Marly will be pissed over this,” Brock swore darkly. “Just you wait, she’ll chew you’re ass for sure.”
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Marly was silent as Dr. Bennett treated Cade in his bedroom. She sat in the large, overstuffed chair by the bed, watching as the bullet wound was cleaned and bandaged, and his ribs poked and probed at.
“No breaks,” Bennett grumped. “Maybe a crack or two. Take it damned easy and I still say you should come into the hospital for x-rays.”
“No x-rays, Doc.” Cade shook his head, his face still pale from the exam. “I’ll just rest up here for a while.”
Dr. Bennett shook his graying head and Marly’s eyes narrowed as she looked from Cade, to Sam and then to Brock.
Dr. Bennett scratched his head, messing his frizzled gray hair further as he stared down at Cade.