The Cattleman (9 page)

Men—bad men—were chasing them down a mountain.

There was no place to hide. Nowhere to escape.

What did he do? He kissed her.

Not a good-bye. Not an invitation. Not just because she was close.

His girl was in his arms and her lips were smooth against his parched ones. Their tongues did a short dance and he felt more confident. She restored something in him that had been missing the past year. He lifted his head, unable to help the smile that spread across his face. He expected a stern set down from her about how they were in a hurry.

But, shoot, from the way she looked at him, maybe he’d given something back to her, too.

The wide-eyed moment was gone. She looked up and behind them, steadying herself with her hands on his shoulders. “We should probably get...”

“Moving. Right. You going to be okay?” he asked, really curious if the near fall had bothered her as much as the thought of losing her had bothered him.

Small rocks skittered past their heads. “Great. More than great. Excellent. Let’s go while we can.”

Choosing or creating a path where the javelinas didn’t traverse was hard enough without the added thoughts about Beth. He could hear the grumbles about being caught off guard, about not doing her job, not protecting her asset.

“Is that me? Am I your asset?”

“Of course you are.”

“Beth, I’ve told you this before. I can look after myself.”

And just like it had been scripted, he heard the lone shot of a gun and zipped back to the cliff wall, covering Beth’s body.

“There’s something to be said about perfect timing.” Beth drew her handgun from its holster.

“My father always says timing is the essence of all comedy, but there is nothing funny about getting shot.
Nada
.” He took out his .38 from under his coat.

“We fired over your head, Burke,” a man shouted from below them. Another bullet spat up dust next to Beth’s feet. “Next time, maybe my man hits something that bleeds.”

“Do you want to discuss this or will you admit that we’re out of options?” Nick asked.

Beth whipped her head around, her hair wrapping itself around her neck. He stowed his gun at his back and lifted his hands into the air.

“Don’t take too long,” the stranger shouted. “You have an appointment with my boss.”

“What if we just stay here?” Beth glanced at her watch. “I know it takes forever to get anywhere in this country, but shouldn’t Pete and Cord be here soon? We’ve been climbing for an hour.”

He shook his head. “It would take an hour to get to my place. Another forty minutes to get to the cabin, longer to get around to this side of the ridge. And that’s if they brought ATVs like these guys.”

“I don’t believe this. There’s got to be another way out of here.”

He shook his head but didn’t lose contact with her eyes. She had to know he was telling the truth. “We do what they say. We stay alive. We fight them later. Understand?”

“I didn’t mean—” She shook her head. “We can’t just give up.”

“If you think I want to turn myself over to these guys, you’re flat out wrong. I have a good idea what’s going to happen to me. Just the thought of what they might do to you is already freezing my insides.” He grabbed her shoulders, shaking her just a little before he stopped himself. “I know you can recover whatever they throw your way, but dying is worse. Dying is permanent.”

Chapter Ten

Blindfolded, bound, knocked around and stuck on a chopper—Beth had thought the ride had been confined. Then they were dropped off in the middle of nowhere and stuck in a hole that wasn’t as deep as one of her apartment closets.

“Do you think this cave is natural? It’s barely big enough for an animal or one person. I can’t believe they stuck us both in here.” She shifted, attempting to relax her legs. There was barely room for them to sit hip to hip on a mixture of small stones and dirt. No more than five feet wide and four feet tall. Located in a remote gully it had a sturdy metal grate that locked in place across the front, seriously resembling a cage for a wild animal.

“Someone was probably searching for gold and started digging around this giant boulder. That’s why it’s such an odd shape. Rock above and below us, dirt all around.”

Part of the rock was still jutting out of the so-called ceiling. Nick insisted on keeping it on his side. He also insisted on placing her at the back of the miniature cave. She would rather have been at the grate, watching their guards, searching for a way out.

“Or our friends out there just came onto park reserve land, discovered the beginnings of a hole in the side of a hill, put a grate in front of it and found themselves the perfect torture camp.” His voice was low and gravely, sounding tired. “No one comes through this area, so they can pretty much do what they want. Ow, that smarts.”

She was certain he was making fun of her question. Their captors had severely beaten him. More than once. The cut wasn’t a laughing matter.

“I can’t get the wound on the back of your head clean. If I use my fingers to pick the pebbles out... Well, my fingers are so dirty I’d probably be doing more harm than good.” She squished herself backward. “Let me have the water to rinse it.”

“No. We need to stay hydrated. It’ll be okay,” he said, tugging her hand away from the water bottle one of the men had tossed through the metal grate. “Get comfortable, honey. It’s going to be a long night. My cut doesn’t matter.”

Nick didn’t have to say why it didn’t matter. He thought they were going to kill them—or at least him. At this moment, she couldn’t argue that point. They were keeping them alive for someone and some reason. She wanted to be optimistic, but escaping from this hole didn’t seem probable.

After one very long day, Beth was tired of breathing the smell of damp dirt on all sides of them. She’d never been an earthy kind of girl. Even the idea of her mother’s patio garden escaped her.

A yoga mat and the strong smell of a chlorine pool would have been extremely hard to resist. She longed for a good stretch. Neither she nor Nick could sit with their backs straight because of the jagged ceiling. They couldn’t extend their cramped extra-long legs. The only time they had relief from sitting on the hard rock was when the men dragged Nick outside the small hole to beat him.

Nick’s wounds were getting worse. Each punch to his face broke open the previous scrapes. She hadn’t known it was possible to bruise on top of a bruise. But the evidence was wrapped around her like a pretzel—the only way they both fit in the man-made cave.

Maneuvering wasn’t easy, but they shifted to where they were sort of in each other’s arms.

“This space is so tight it would be intolerable if we didn’t like touching each other. At least they gave us back our coats.” She arched her back, hitting her head on a protruding rock. “Ow.”

“I’m glad you still have a sense of humor about all this.” He pulled her in close against his light tan shirt that didn’t hide any of the blood drips.

Some of his blood had stained her creamy yellow top. The very distinguishable smell of blood was easy to ignore mixed with their musk and dirt surroundings. She concentrated on Nick’s body, searching for sore spots or wounds. She felt how relaxed and accepting he was. Or maybe they’d knocked his head one too many times and he was injured. He might not even know it.

“Are you nauseated at all?” She rubbed the back of her head. “I wonder if you have a concussion. Should you stay awake? Then again I think they changed that rule and you can sleep, but I have to make sure you wake up. But if you won’t wake up, then what’s the point of letting you fall asleep to wake you up later? That seems like it’s defeating the purpose.”

“I’m fine. Don’t think too hard about it, just relax. I have a feeling it’s going to be a rough night, and maybe we should rest while we can.”

A gripping pain knotted her calf, making her jerk. She couldn’t reach the cramp. All she could do was point her toes and that wasn’t a huge success in her Western boots.

“Something wrong?”

She shook her head, gritting her teeth and determined not to complain. “Do your muscles ache as much as mine? Wow, that was such a stupid question. How’s the rib? Are you breathing okay?”

“Stop worrying about me. I protected the rib from another direct hit just like you taught me and reminded me during the last round. But I think you’re right that it might be cracked.”

When she’d yelled for him to cover his side, the big jerk hitting him had thrown extra punches to his arm. She’d keep her mouth shut next time. Now, too. She wouldn’t complain. It was only a little muscle cramp.

“A cracked rib could be dangerous. The man in the dark brown coat drops his right shoulder when he’s going to punch and always takes a step back for a running start when he’s going to kick. The key is not to lose your balance and fall to the ground.”

“Definitely, that’s the key.” He began to laugh, but winced. “Ow. Don’t make me do that.”

“I was only trying to help.”

“Just knowing where you are is helping. I’ll admit that I wish you were back at the ranch or even in Chicago, but since you aren’t...” He squeezed her, bringing her in tight, then tipped her chin up so she met his eyes. “Do you really want me to stay awake?”

“No, you’re right and I’m being overly cautious. Get some rest and sleep if you can.”

“Not sure that’s possible, but I’m leaning my head against this fool’s gold and closing my eyes.”

“We’ve been here all day and I hadn’t noticed any pyrite.”

“Now that it’s dark,” he tipped his head back to rest it on the stone, “the flashlights they shine in here are picking more of it up.”

“Interesting.”

“You don’t sound very interested. Not the way you drew out the word like you were completely focused on something else. So what do you really want to talk about? Getting stuck here because of my decision to save our lives? What happened this morning during the storm? Or the scars?”

“Nightmares.”

She was certain she heard several words she’d rarely repeat cursed softly across the top of her head. With her cheek resting lightly on his chest, she felt him swallow hard. His body was tenser than waiting for a kick in the ribs. She inched her knee closer to his back and ever so gently pushed him toward it.

“Relax. I know you don’t think the nightmares are a big deal, but they are.”

“Just because my mother put you up to this, doesn’t mean you have to follow through. Does now seem like the right time? You going to use a two-hour DEA psychology course on me? Or maybe some half-forgotten college class? We’d be better off talking about the confusing geological formations here in Big Bend National Park.”

“I’m sure the rock formations are spectacular, but how do you know this and why is it important at the moment?” He was very good at changing the subject, but so was she. She’d had years of practice with Elizabeth and Carroll, her parents. The always licensed and practicing psycho-therapist professors.

“It’s important.” He lowered his voice. His lips brushed against her ear. “Because I worked a couple of summers here leading hikes. I know exactly where we’re being held. So when we escape we won’t be wandering in circles.”

“Escape? Were you planning on telling me about these plans?”

Movement in their small space had to be confined and coordinated. One person couldn’t move without involving the other. So she felt every wince and hard intake of Nick’s breath while he tried to come up with an answer, leaning his head back again. She noticed the split on his cheekbone bleeding. One of the men’s obnoxious finger rings had cut him.

There was nothing she could do. He lifted his shoulder and smeared the blood. He didn’t have an answer because he didn’t have a plan. They were stuck until their situation changed. Hopefully for the better.

“Since escaping out of this hole isn’t an option at this time—”

“It will be. The guards are lazy and the opportunity will be there. You’ll just need to be ready to run.”

“I thought fighting back wasn’t a smart idea. Didn’t you insist and make me agree before we were captured? We might be able to overpower these thugs in a fair fight. But there is nothing fair about someone pointing a .38 special at your head and forcing you to watch them beat up your boyfriend.”

Oh, shoot. She’d called Nick her boyfriend. That couldn’t be good. Had he heard her? Strangely enough, it didn’t bother her at all to think of him that way.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing. Um... Do you remember asking me what I wanted to talk about?” He didn’t act like he heard her slipup, but changing the subject was good. “We’re supposed to be talking about nightmares. I should probably answer your question of where I get my experience. It’s quite legitimate.”

“Spoken in the language of shrinks.” He didn’t bother disguising the distrust in his voice.

“I come by the speak honestly. I’ve spoken it fluently for years with my parents the therapists.”

“I thought you were embellishing so I’d take your offer more seriously.”

“I’m as serious as a heart attack, unfortunately. If Elizabeth didn’t start analyzing why I was a foot model, Carroll would analyze why I practiced at the shooting range every day. But honestly, I wouldn’t and couldn’t talk to you like them. I can’t pretend to have all the answers.”

“Wait. I can’t get over that you were a foot model. They really just used your feet? That’s hilarious. I mean, I never would have imagined that you modeled.” He laughed loud enough to draw the attention of their guards, who banged on the metal bars.

Nick kept silently laughing. She could feel his body shaking.

“I needed the money. Elizabeth and Carroll also teach at Northwestern and wanted me to attend there, but I wanted a criminal justice degree from Albany. That meant I had to pay for college.”

“I went to Texas Tech.”

“Modeling has its advantages. I almost always got to keep the shoes.”

“That sure does explain the purple rhinestone boots.” He chuckled and winced, holding his ribs.

“I like my boots.”

“I’m sure you do. They just aren’t...ideal for riding.” He laughed again. “A foot model. Figures.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Elizabeth and Carroll predicted this would happen.” She’d said the wrong thing and he’d completely diverted the conversation to be about her. “I won’t delicately coax you back to the real subject. It’s my choice, so let’s get back to the real topic. You. We were talking about your life and experiences. I know what it’s like to lose sleep because I’ve had those nightmares.”

“Not like mine.”

“Granted, I wasn’t shot in the back. But the trauma treatment is similar for losing a partner in a violent situation.” She lowered her voice, not wanting to be overheard by their guards. “Why do you think the DEA sent me out here? I’m certain there are many more qualified agents suited for West Texas.”

“Maybe.”

“Is that reluctance in your voice to admit I’m right? Sweet, but it’s unnecessary to stroke my ego. I like you anyway.”

“Ha. Oh, man. I thought I asked you not to make me laugh. But you’re right. There are a lot of things better than your ego that I’d rather stroke.” He raised his right elbow in to her breast.

She was packed tight against the rear wall of their cell, but was able to shift and jam her left hand between their bodies, putting a stop to his intimate gesture. She had the perfect opportunity and couldn’t allow herself to become distracted again.

“We’re already in the mountains, so you can’t run away this time to avoid a conversation. I really can help if you give me a chance.”

“There’s only one thing that will help me sleep better...finding the man who ordered my death. The prosecutor called me collateral damage, Beth. Said that the McCreas were the real target. I think he’s wrong.”

“I thought they caught and convicted the man responsible.” She’d made a promise to Juliet and would get him to talk about the shooting. And if by some slim miracle they managed to escape, maybe he’d be on the road to seeking some professional help.

“Mac pulled the trigger, but I know someone else told him to. Someone besides Mac’s boss.”

“So you don’t believe the reports or his testimony. For the past year you’ve been trying to discover the person who ordered your shooting. Is that why you decided to teach me how to ride? So I’d help you on your hunt? Is that why you gave up so easily this morning? Do you think these men are responsible?”

“No.”

Confident. Solid. Straight forward. No nonsense. All that strength in one little word, and she believed him. He’d never put anyone at risk on purpose.

“I have no illusions. I know it wasn’t a favor for me. The threat from your mother about forcing you to leave the ranch, you believed her?” Actually, she’d believed the older woman’s threat after only meeting her twice.

Which was one of the reasons she wanted Nick to talk about the shooting. Juliet deserved to have a few days when she didn’t worry about him.

“I sure as hell did. When she sets her mind to something, it’s gonna get done.” Life popped back into his voice along with more of his Texas twang. “You better believe she would kick me out of the house. Everything I have is tied up in the cattle and ultimately the ranch. After Mac left—”

“You mean betrayed you. Mac Cauldwell betrayed you by working with the smugglers. Then he shot you in the back like a coward. He didn’t
leave
you, Nick.”

“I know that.” He sounded hurt, not angry.

“Do you? The man was your mentor. He taught you to ride, rope, everything about a horse and especially how to run the ranch. You’ve suffered a horrible traumatic event. Why won’t you consider speaking with a therapist or even the preacher at your church?”