The Cattleman (10 page)

Should she try to get him angry about the shooting instead of forgetting it? She wasn’t a therapist like Carroll and Elizabeth, but she did have the questions her mother had supplied. She could guide him, help him sleep better. Maybe.

“My mom sure does like to share private matters.”

“You realize that Mac made the choice to work with killers and then became one himself.” It was difficult to keep her voice steady and not filled with anger for a dead man she didn’t know. “In his testimony, he said it wasn’t personal. He felt like he had nothing to—”

“It was personal to me,” Nick said strongly in her ear.

“Of course it was.”

He began shifting on their mutual rock. She wished she’d taken the coat off and sat on it. Her backside was growing numb. She hissed through her teeth as another cramp seized her calf.

“What’s the matter?”

“Cramp,” she eked out. He leaned forward and rubbed her leg as best as he could behind his back. “That position must be killing you. Here, sit up.”

She liked Nick. He was a giving soul, a kind, considerate, thoughtful and brooding man. Yes, she liked him a lot. The physical attraction was self-explanatory after one look at him. He was tall and handsome, substantiating everything she’d heard about cowboys.

She had slept with him under a million stars and had made memories she wasn’t likely to forget. But the other nights...

Like his parents, she’d heard the screams from his nightmares. The timing completely stunk, but he needed to face these demons. There wasn’t any way she had enough knowledge to get rid of the anxiety that caused those horrible dreams. She could convince him he needed to visit someone who could.

“Look, I made a promise to your mom that I’d broach the subject.” She didn’t want to. Facing his demons made her face a few of her own. In turn, that made her stomach hurt. “Can you answer some questions I got from my mom? She mentioned that you’d have a better idea about your anxiety. I mean about the dreams, about how to face them. Then you could speak to your mother more knowledgably.”

The questions were part of a common test used to determine if someone might be suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. Should she mention that both of her parents had insisted she give up the idea of talking with Nick?

Both had been surprised to hear from her last week. She rarely called. Her fault, not theirs. They respected her space. Most of the time she was too embarrassed to chat. Her failure was always on her mind when she faced them.

If she didn’t get her act together and get them out of this hole, she’d completely wash out of the DEA.

Or she’d be completely dead.

Chapter Eleven

“What do you want to know about the nightmares?” Nick asked when everything was silent.

Beth’s nightmares of the shooting in Chicago drove her to practice every day. There had been incidents in her career involving gunfire. That day had been different. The reports of other team members had blamed her for her partner’s death. All she could remember was the hesitation. She didn’t know why it had happened. But she’d never hesitate again. Never miss. Never be punished and sent to the wilds of West Texas again.

“I want to ask you questions, and I want you to answer honestly and then give your answers some thought. It might help. I’m not making any guarantees.”

Her parents had insisted on therapy on top of speaking to the doctor assigned by the department. She probably would have ignored both if one hadn’t been mandated for her to get back to work. She was more familiar with family concerns than she wanted to admit to Nick.

“Might as well.” He shrugged. “I don’t think you’re going to sleep, which means you’re going to keep me awake.”

“Okay, so we already know you suffered a violent event and you have nightmares.” She needed to recall the important questions that would make him realize the truth. “You’ve also distanced yourself from people and do nothing but work from dawn to dusk.”

“What does that have to do with anything? Of course, I work. Anyone I hire to take Mac’s place could be working for these creeps. So I take care of things myself.”

“So, I guess the answer to if you have trouble trusting people is yes.”

“I trust you.” He leaned forward far enough to nip her neck and then lick the saltiness off his lips.

The gesture seemed very innocent until she could see the teasing in his eyes. Or was that deliberate temptation?

“I’m not going to be distracted. So let’s get back to my questions. Do you feel normal?” The rest of that particular question was: do you feel like you want a family and children. Asking that at this point in their relationship might give him the wrong impression.

“What I feel is cramped, sore and beat up. Wouldn’t you say our situation is a little different than my everyday normal?”

“You know what I’m asking. Before today, during the past year. Could you go about ranch business thinking long term?”

“I, um...” He tilted his face toward the bars of their cage, and his muscles tensed beneath her fingers.

“Be honest, Nick. There’s no one else here and I’m not going to tattle back to your mother. Besides, I shared my modeling secret with you.”

He released a deep sigh. “All right. Long term? No. Not without knowing why it happened.”

“The next question. Do you try to avoid thinking about the shooting? And do you relive it when you pass where it happened?” She’d seen him take the long way around the paddock to the barn and had even caught his long stare at the corral.

“I almost get through a day and then look at the corral...I freeze, go right back to the shooting and almost pass out. Only way for me to cope is to take off to the mountains.”

His voice was intense but quiet. Rough but emotional. She didn’t want to force him to relive it, but there was no other way to move past it.

“Of course, I try not to think about it, but the more I try
not
to think about, the more I do. You already know that we’re here, right here, because I wanted away from where it happened.”

“These men came looking for us, Nick. It’s not your fault.”

Nick watched the last rays of sunshine fade behind the canyon walls. It was the weird time of twilight before everything got so dark that you couldn’t see. The guards weren’t as diligent as before about watching the hole. But there was no way to dig out or lift the iron grate unless it was unlocked.

At least they weren’t hurting Beth. He could see the strategies brewing behind her beautiful eyes each time they were dragged from the cave. She’d remind him how to protect himself and he’d remind her not to try to escape.

“I have to tell you something,” he whispered, turning to look at her in the fading light. “I, um...I took that test you’re asking me. Several times. Enough to pretty much have it memorized.”

Beth’s dark eyes were huge and questioning him. “You’re just saying that so I’ll stop.”

“Have I had outbursts of anger? Have I had difficulty concentrating? Do I feel guilty? Feel jumpy? Feel hyper vigilant, constantly ready for any threat? I think I should answer no on that one, seeing how we’re in this mess. You and mom dropped enough hints.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know. So what if I answered yes to most of the questions? So what if I’m having a little trouble sleeping? What’s a shrink going to tell me that I don’t already know?” He tightened his arms, to hold her next to him and keep her from untangling their semicomfortable position.

If the notion of pulling away from him wasn’t ridiculous, he could have sworn that’s what her squirming was trying to accomplish. But the space was too small for them to move more than a couple of inches either way.

“I can’t believe you played me like that. And therapists really can help you understand what’s happening and how to deal with it.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He leaned back until he could see the fire make her eyes sparkle. Or was that just the fight in her dark blue eyes? “I wasn’t
playing
you. And I’ve got a pretty clear idea of what’s happening. There aren’t a lot of options at the moment.”

“If you weren’t playing along, why didn’t you tell me when I first broached this subject that you’d already self-diagnosed and are going to ignore it?”

“Because I didn’t mind you asking. I wasn’t excited about it, but I didn’t mind.” Her body relaxed against his again. “Mom needs to stop worrying about me.
You
should stop worrying. I’m old enough to take care of myself.”

He should start worrying about how they were going to get out of there. They needed a plan.

“By the way, it wasn’t your mom who filled me in. Kate did,” she said.

“Kate? I should have guessed.” His voice had that slight quality of grief to it that he hated.

“Do you still love her?”

“Huh? My mom?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. I know there’s an intelligent man hiding behind that laid-back cowboy exterior.”

Nick searched her eyes in the dimming light. Then he kissed her. Busted lip, sore jaw, twisted into a position he didn’t think possible, he kissed her some more. Deep, strong and long, she kissed him back. He raised his outside arm to her cheek, dusted at a smudge of dirt, hooked a long wavy curl behind her ear and felt desire burn in his gut.

No, he’d never really loved Kate. Could he tell Beth that? Should he tell her that he hadn’t realized it until she’d asked?

Neither the dirt around them nor the men standing outside threatening their lives mattered. He explored her lips, aware of her soft breasts pressed against his sore body. He and Beth were packed in like cattle being hauled to auction. He didn’t care. Something clicked... And then he fell.

Hard.

After all these years thinking there was one perfect woman for him and that she loved someone else. This moment was a wakeup call. He’d fallen for someone who was all wrong for a cattleman. From the moment he’d met Beth at Pete’s ranch and she’d looked petrified at the size of the calmest animal he owned, he’d been attracted.

Frustrated and attracted like he’d never allowed himself to be before. But, come on, she still couldn’t ride a horse and didn’t really want to. They took a breath, resting their foreheads together.

“I would have said you were smart last week if I’d known you could kiss like that.”

“I’ve kissed you before.” He couldn’t stop searching her face for a... He didn’t know what. He just couldn’t stop looking at her.

“Not like that,” she answered so breathlessly that he had to kiss her again.

The butt of a gun hitting the bars to their cage broke them slightly apart. The guard slung the strap back over his shoulder and walked away, laughing.

“You should try to get some shut-eye.”

“And what about you?” she asked, yawning.

“I’ll be okay, Beth. Don’t worry so much.”

How did she manage to rub his back in their confinement? He didn’t need to know, he just enjoyed it.

Beth’s hand stopped moving a couple of minutes later. He wanted to shift and make her more comfortable, but it wasn’t possible. Her body relaxed, her breathing deepened and she was finally asleep. Maybe the guards would wait a couple of hours before beating him again so she could get some rest.

With all the talk about his nightmares he couldn’t close his eyes. No one was watching them. The guards sat around a fire that burned inside a fifty-gallon drum. Sparks flew up toward the black sky. No moonlight. No stars.

Shoot, there was still some sleet on the ground that had been in the shade all day. And it was just going to get colder out in the open like they were. The wind whipped through the gully, straight into their little hole. It would probably snow again before morning.

He inched his hand to an iron bar. He lifted, but it barely budged. He thought he’d seen a lock at the top. They were isolated. No one would venture to this gully. Just like no one normally rode through the part of his land they used to smuggle drugs.

Why here? Camouflaged tarps protected their captors from an aerial spotting. Weather and remoteness protected them from accidental trespassers. They hadn’t asked Beth or him anything. Why keep them alive? He wasn’t DEA or the law, but he was smart enough to know someone probably wanted information.

That was the million-dollar question. And what would happen when the men got their answer? They’d be dead this time tomorrow. All because he couldn’t stand to look at the place where he’d already died.

Chapter Twelve

They’d been held captive in the hole for a day and a half. They were unbound while inside their earth cage, but their muscles were one endless spasm. The helplessness seeped into each of Beth’s thoughts like the damp cold had through her jeans.

The men continued to beat Nick, kicking him before they could straighten their legs and stand. Afterward, Nick would pull her into his arms, warming and comforting her. Wincing a great deal, but still comforting her.

Their relationship had changed and would never be the same. They had a strong attraction and they’d slept together twice. Yet it was his soothing protectiveness that she’d never needed or desired before that she wanted more of. Which was totally ridiculous, because that might mean she wanted more of what was happening to them and that was far from the truth.

Seeing them attack Nick over and over was hell. None of the men laid a hand on her other than a shove to get her moving or holding her back while they laughed and hit Nick. She’d wished several times that she didn’t have to witness the horrifying things they were doing to someone she cared about. But she’d admitted to herself that it would be much worse captured and alone.

It was late afternoon when two Jeeps bounced over the trail toward the makeshift camp. Their captors shoved her toward one while dragging Nick into the other. Once out of the gully, they drove east for twenty minutes from the cave—she’d noted the time on the car clock. Not only in case Nick, her new partner, needed some help determining their position, but also so she could find it again.

Nick appeared to be semiconscious, his head sagging to his chest as two men dragged him from the other vehicle. Fresh blood trailed from the cut above his brow. The skin close to his eyes had turned a sickly dark purple. She couldn’t be certain—because they wouldn’t let her touch him—but it looked as if his nose had been broken during the last round of punching.

Several armed men were posted around a large Spanish-style home in the middle of nowhere. There were no telephone lines or power cables. Yards and yards of trees had been removed. No one could breach the perimeter without being seen. Even the brush had been cleared away, making it impossible to approach or leave without being detected.

Escape was looking harder and harder.

They were escorted around the side of the house. She had two huge beasts on either side of her. Nick’s toes left deep drag marks on the gravel path as he was being pulled behind her. There were beautiful flowers, lush landscaping, tennis courts at the far end of the compound and a swimming pool.

The hot tub looked especially inviting to her sore muscles. Fog billowed from the cold air hitting the hot water. She could imagine soaking and warming up her frozen bones.

A man rose from the bubbles and was met with his robe and slippers as he stepped onto the patio. He knotted the belt around his waist and took a brandy glass from a tray that miraculously appeared at his elbow. He looked very debonair, very comfortable and very definitely in charge.

“Why are you doing this to us? What do you want?”

Beth’s heart beat like a crazy woman’s on crack. This was the first time they’d seen the man giving orders, the one their captors referred to as Bishop.

“I would say welcome to my home,
senorita
, but I am not acting as a host tonight. You and Nick Burke have been an unnecessary distraction requiring too much of my time.”

Multiple guards walked by with growling dogs. A constant reminder that it would be impossible to outrun them. As weak and tired as they were, the dogs would surely catch them. They’d never climb the stone walls that were at least eight feet tall, a foot thick topped with barbed wire.

When she made it back to the task force, she’d be able to pick this location out from satellite photos. But first they had to make it to Marfa and Nick’s home. And that wouldn’t be easy since she was certain they’d crossed the border into Mexico.

“Okay, I get the intimidation tactics. What do you want?” She was free, could make a break and disarm one of the guards, but not both. Then what would they do? Nick looked as if he could barely move. Would running back to the Jeeps be a brilliant idea or a suicide mission?

Bishop hovered closer, having to look slightly up at her as he stalked her like a dead-eyed shark. No, a buzzard. He wouldn’t make the kill. He would just circle until he could swoop in for the sick feast.

“Bring them to the pool,” Bishop commanded and flicked his hand.

A blonde woman stood at the two open French doors to the house. Lacy curtains blew around her legs. Backlit as she was, she looked otherworldly. Was the blonde important? Wife? Girlfriend? Partner? She stepped through the doors, pulling them shut behind her.

It was hard to believe this place belonged to a gangster or member of the Mexican cartel. Beth didn’t know what organization Bishop was a part of. She needed to do her job and find out, because when they escaped—and they would escape—she would bring every law enforcement agency possible down on this guy’s head to take him out.

She stretched her fingers wide at her side, realizing they were numb from clenching them into fists for so long. She relaxed her shoulders, stretched her neck. She’d be aware and prepared to act at any moment.

The perimeter into the unknown was out. Not a single gate except where they’d driven through. Nothing but lawn furniture and pool toys. After two days of little sleep and less food, she wouldn’t be able to break any of it fast enough to improvise a weapon.

Bishop crossed to the deep end of the pool. With a flick of his wrist he indicated where she should stand and gave a nod to his men.

“Let’s cut to the chase. Why don’t you just tell us who you work for or even what you want. Then we won’t have to wonder about it anymore.”

Bishop looked amused but quickly returned to his stoic expression. He didn’t bother to answer either.

It was another cold, cloudy late afternoon, but nothing compared to Chicago. The weather shouldn’t have fazed her. She shivered for Nick when they jerked his heavy coat down, pinning his hands behind his back. His shirt was ripped open and sliced from his body. Her shiver wasn’t from the weather. She was afraid of what might finally happen. If only Nick were okay they could fight back.

As their breaths formed small patches of fog as it left their mouths, Nick lifted his head slightly and winked. She was dizzy with relief that he was at least coherent. She faced Bishop, who had pulled a chair closer to the pool’s edge. “Please tell me what you want. Is it money? Are we being ransomed?”

Portraying the damsel in distress was easy at this point. Nick needed medical attention and the fear in her voice was real on every level as she wondered how they’d get out of this predicament.

“I don’t think the United States government will pay for either of you. They always say they won’t negotiate. I do not believe your chances would be very good.”

“What? I...I don’t understand. Don’t you want money from Nick’s family?”

“No. I need something else from Burke. Something he neglected to do last year.” Bishop smiled slowly, dipping his head to his chin.

“What are you talking about?”

“Die. He needs me to die,” Nick groaned. “With me dead, he can force out my parents and take my land.”

“It won’t be that easy,” she said, not believing for one minute that Nick’s parents would just give up.

“I’m sorry,
querida
. Do you hope to convince me of something? I find it so very easy to set my eyes on a goal and obtain.”

“Why haven’t you just shot us then?”

“We need to know about this task force you are a part of. How much has the Rook told to you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking—”

Bishop slapped her check, snapping her head to the left. He’d taken her by surprise. She’d been totally unprepared for an attack. The sting made her skin burn and her eyes water. She would have fought harder to stop the tears if she’d shown her badge as a DEA agent. But at the moment, playing her part as Nick Burke’s fiancée, her tears fell.

“Do not waste my time, Agent Conrad. I know the two of you are involved with the
policia
and
not each other. But if you would like to play the game, by all means, let’s play. You remember
The Newlywed Game,
si
? You say you are his
prometido
, then answer
rapido
. What did Burke’s father do before buying their ranch?”

He waved his hand and the guard standing next to Nick shoved him into the pool.

Beth was midair, almost in the water, when a thick arm yanked her backward. She spun around. “What are you doing? He can’t surface! He’ll drown with his hands pinned behind his back.” As exhausted as Nick already was he wouldn’t be able to tread water for long.

“Yes. Answer.”

Around the struggle, the water turned a pale pink, washing the blood from Nick’s skin. The guard that had knocked Nick into the deep end knelt at the edge and prevented Nick from kicking off the bottom to surface. Whenever he struggled and kicked to get air, the man shoved him down again.

“Alan was... Oh God, we... Nick and I haven’t spoken about his parents, especially what they did before moving here.” The answer was in his file.
Think. Think. Think.
Whatever he’d done, he’d retired early. “Please let him up.”

“I should warn you, one wrong answer and he does not resurface.”

“I think Alan sold his company. They made machines that made other tool machines. Something like that.”

Bishop nodded. The man grabbed a handful of Nick’s hair and yanked upward. Nick gasped, sucking in air. He tossed his head from side to side attempting to get released.

“What did your father do before ranching?” Bishop asked as politely as making casual conversation at tea.

Nick sank, pushed off the bottom and broke the surface again, sputtering at the surface. “Machine—” he coughed and spat water “—tooling company.”

Bishop’s man grabbed Nick’s dark teak hair, bobbing him up and down like laundry on a washboard. Nick kicked and struggled to get his mouth above the freezing water. Each time he got close to getting a deep breath, Bishop’s man sent him under.

“Let him up. We both answered.”

“Next question. What is Nick’s favorite food?”

Nick was released and sank. The longer she took to consider an answer, the longer he went without oxygen.

“Biscuits,” she said with little confidence, taking a wild guess. The second guard pulled her around her waist again, yanking her back against his chest. Without realizing it, she’d been inching closer to the pool’s edge. “Let him up.”

Bishop nodded once again. Nick answered correctly and the questions continued, the near-drowning repeated and repeated. He struggled less, succumbing to Bishop’s man holding him by his hair as the sun fell behind the surrounding mountains.

“Last question, Agent Conrad. What has the task force discovered from Mr. Rook?”

Nick was shoved under the water again. Then Bishop jerked her head toward him, his fingers biting into her cheeks.

“We can’t answer something we don’t know.” She wanted to scream, fight, lie. Anything to get Nick out of the water.

“Are you still denying you were brought here by the DEA?”

“I’m here because I love Nick. Why would the DEA send anyone here that can’t even ride a horse?” She raised her hands, covering Bishop’s who still tugged at her chin forcing her to look at him instead of the pool. “Please, I’m begging you, let him up.”

With one glance at his guard, Bishop’s man allowed Nick to float away from the edge. Face down.

“What have you done?” She broke free and ran to the pool.

The guard reached for Nick, but missed. He swiped at the water again, but the cattleman’s body sank to the bottom. Then, he shoved off the bottom shooting out of the water, bare chested and hands free. With one hard tug the guard who had been holding her let go and toppled into the pool. Nick disappeared under the water again, wrestling the big man like an overstuffed crocodile.

Between the light, waves and bubbles it was difficult to distinguish who was winning. Bishop’s hand was suddenly around her neck. She tried to pry his fingers loose, but he had a firm, strong grip and jerked her to her feet.

Nick pulled his opponent to the steps at the opposite end of the pool. The guard who had been holding him under joined them on the steps. Nick dodged a punch and stepped from the water, dripping but steady, the guards splashing behind him. He brushed his hand across his face, never breaking eye contact with her.

“We aren’t part of any task force,” he said to Bishop, resting his hands on his knees. “I supplied horses for the sheriff, and Beth was stubborn enough to insist on going with me. She wanted to show off for my old girlfriend.”

The pressure around her throat increased. The instinct to claw at Bishop’s hands to release herself overtook her. She couldn’t budge his grasp. The soft bones in her neck cracked as if they were about to break. She wanted to get free, grab a gun and shoot the son of a b—

Nick’s whiskey-colored eyes reassured her to stay calm. Why the heck did she believe it would be okay just by looking at him? But she was sure it would, so she relaxed, taking short shallow breaths.

“Are we through playing this sick version of an out-of-date game?” Nick asked before a third guard appeared and placed a gun against his head.

Bishop relaxed his grip, but kept her as a barrier between him and everyone else. “Perhaps your girlfriend needs a little more enticement to talk. Shoot him in the leg, but not too severe. I don’t want him to bleed out. Yet.”

The guard he’d wrestled in the pool grabbed a gun and aimed at Nick’s hip.

“Wait! I am DEA, but I haven’t had access to Rook. None. Don’t have your answers.” Shoved forward, she stumbled but stayed on her feet close to Nick and the two guns. “Are you going to torture me now?”

If Bishop said yes and she took Nick’s place would she be able to handle it? Would her training be enough to keep her tongue from wagging?