Thunder Horse Redemption (3 page)

* * *

R
OXANNE
’
S
GAZE
BORED
into Pierce’s back. She should have ridden with Dante and Tuck in the truck. But she knew where she was most comfortable. When trouble struck the badlands of North Dakota, Roxanne preferred to be in the saddle. Besides, she was more likely to find Sweet Jessie and her foal off the beaten path, and they were her priority right now.

The fact that
she
had been injured, along with Sweet Jessie, wasn’t something Roxanne let herself think about. She didn’t know why anyone would choose to target her—or if he would try to attack her again—but sitting around and thinking about it would drive her crazy. With all the problems she’d been having with the ranch and her finances, the thought of another disaster in her life threatened to crack her self-control. The only way she knew to deal with the strain was to focus on something else—a problem she could fix.

Checking on the horses fit the bill, even if it meant riding with her ex-fiancé.

She’d avoided Pierce since her brother’s death. The only time she saw him was from a distance when they happened to be in Medora, the small town where she purchased supplies. She had noticed that Pierce hadn’t been home much since the explosion, and why should he? His work with the FBI kept him busy. Just like it had kept Mason busy when Pierce had lured him into that danger-filled world.

A booming clap of thunder shook the earth and air around her. The mare beneath her skittered sideways, tossing her head in the air with a frightened whinny.

Roxanne glanced at the incoming storm, doubt tugging at her gut. Maybe they should have waited until the following day to be out on the prairie. With no trees within sight, that left the two horses and riders as the tallest spires within miles—lightning rods for what looked like a nasty storm about to break over the landscape. Easy targets for a determined shooter, should he choose to return. But no, she wasn’t letting herself think about that now. She’d set a mission for herself, and she wasn’t going home until it was completed.

A flash of lightning snaked across the sky, followed closely by an answering rumble. Sassy pulled against the reins and swung back toward the barn and shelter from the oncoming storm.

Roxanne struggled to turn the horse in the direction Pierce and his stallion rode. They had to get to the watering hole and find Sweet Jessie and her foal before wolves or two-legged snakes claimed their lives. The rain would wash away the horse tracks…and the tracks of the dirt bike the Thunder Horse brothers would use to try to track down her shooter.

Ahead, Pierce sat tall in the saddle, his shoulders broad, his dark Lakota hair hanging down just below his collar, straight, thick and jet-black. The cowboy hat on his head shielded his eyes from what little light shone around the approaching cloud bank. Every time Pierce glanced behind him, Roxanne’s heart flipped, stuttered and burst into a frantic pattering.

Damn the man. He’d always had that effect on her. When would she ever get over him? No man had ever captured her heart or imagination like Pierce Thunder Horse.

The truck with two of the other Thunder Horse brothers passed them, followed soon by the four-wheeler. They honked and swung wide of Pierce and Roxanne, kicking up a cloud of dust from the dry prairie floor.

Roxanne settled into a bone-jarring canter, slow enough to conserve the horse’s energy. If they had to go down into the canyon to find Sweet Jessie and her foal, the rain would make the trail even more dangerous than it already was.

Sassy would need all her strength for a coordinated and sure-footed descent.

As they neared the watering hole, Roxanne let out a sigh, half-relieved when she didn’t find the wild mare’s body in the dirt. The wound mustn’t have been too bad, if she was able to get up and leave the area. Still, Roxanne wanted to gauge for herself.

Pierce paused briefly at the watering hole to check for hoofprints and tire tracks, and to compare notes with his brothers.

Roxanne urged her mare slowly toward the canyon’s rim, her gaze darting right and left as well as scanning the ground. Having been shot at once made her paranoid. Every noise caused her to jump. She tried to force herself to focus. The brothers were taking care of the shooter—Roxanne’s job was to take care of the wild horses. She couldn’t let herself get distracted from that. If she did, she’d be reminded how vulnerable and frightened she felt at the thought of a gunman on her trail.

Sweet Jessie had been shot by the pond. The herd had to have been close by at the time of the shooting. Noise from the gunshot would have sent them into the canyon to hide.

In the dirt leading away from the watering hole, Roxanne discovered a trail of dark brown dots. Dried blood and hoofprints. At first they headed for the canyon, but the prints veered south before reaching the canyon’s edge. Unfortunately, where Sweet Jessie’s prints headed south, another, smaller set of hoofprints led directly to the canyon.

“The foal and mare are separated.” Roxanne glanced across at Pierce as he came abreast. “The little one won’t stand a chance if she doesn’t find her mother soon.”

At the edge of the gorge, Roxanne paused, searching for the trailhead where the horses would have dropped down into the canyon below.

“Are you trying to get shot again?” Pierce angled his horse in front of hers. “You’re exposed here on the edge of the canyon. If someone wanted to shoot you once, wouldn’t you think they might be interested in shooting at you again?”

“And like I said to you before, if someone wanted to shoot me, there are better places for them to try than here where there’s next to no cover to get a good position—especially now that I’m surrounded by angry-looking men with guns.” She straightened her shoulders, her gaze darting toward the canyon below. “I refuse to run scared. There’s a foal down there who will die without her mother. Lead, follow or get out of my way.”

Pierce’s brows dipped. “You’re a stubborn woman. Anywhere along the trail is easy pickings if someone is down there in the canyon aiming up.”

“Do you see any tire tracks leading down into the canyon?”

Pierce leaned over in the saddle, scanning the trailhead. “No. But this might not be the trail he used to get down there.”

“You do see horse tracks, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

Roxanne raised her gaze to the sky again. “If we don’t hurry, it won’t matter. The rain will keep us from finding the foal. She could die and no one will care but me.”

He shifted in his saddle, glancing out across the gorge, squinting. Finally he faced her. “Damn it, Roxanne, I care.”

She waved her hand toward the trail, choosing to ignore his statement. “Then let’s go.”

“Wait here.” Pierce took off at a trot toward his brothers. Over his shoulder he called out. “And I mean wait.”

Roxanne’s gaze followed him.

Pierce conferred with his brothers and returned, reining in beside her and her mare. “They want to stay up top and continue searching for clues as to who the shooter might be before the rain washes away any evidence, but Maddox will cover us while we go down.”

“Good.” She didn’t wait for him. Pressing her heels into Sassy’s flanks, she clucked her tongue and spoke softly to the horse as she picked her way down the steep and narrow trail.

Roxanne focused on the path ahead, refusing to look to her side where the ground dropped away in a slope too steep for man or beast. If a shooter popped off a round, he wouldn’t even have to hit her. The noise alone could cause her horse to spook and toss her or, worse, tumble down the steep slope with her. And even without the shooter, if her mount took one faulty step, both horse and rider would plummet to the bottom of the canyon with nothing to slow their fall.

Her breath wedging in her throat, Roxanne clung to the saddle horn, her fingers light on the reins, giving the horse her head. Roxanne’s feet dug into the stirrups as she leaned back in the saddle to keep from pitching forward. Sassy picked her way to the bottom at her own pace.

About halfway down, the sky opened, rain gushing from it like a fire hose spraying down full blast.

Blinded by the torrent, Roxanne could do nothing but hold on and pray Sassy remained sure-footed as the trail turned slippery and more treacherous by the minute.

Not until the path leveled out and the canyon floor rose up to meet them did Roxanne release the breath she’d been holding and push the hair out of her face to glance behind her.

Cetan descended, easing his way down the last few feet of the narrow trail. Rain dripped from the edges of Pierce’s cowboy hat, his face set in stone beneath the brim.

“We’ll be lucky to find the foal in this,” Roxanne called out as Pierce reined in beside her.

“We’re here, we might as well try.” His heels pressed into his horse’s sides and he headed north along the base of the cliffs rising up beside him.

Her head down, Roxanne wished she’d taken time to grab a cowboy hat at the Thunder Horse Ranch. Hers had been lost earlier in her wild ride to get away from the shooter. She could barely see through the rain running down her face. Sassy fell in step behind Cetan, seemingly content to let the larger horse lead as they pushed forward.

Roxanne followed the man she’d sworn to hate for the rest of her life. Weak and tired from the long ride and the injuries she’d sustained from being shot and thrown, she did something she swore she’d never do again. She let the tears she’d been holding back for two months, mingle with the rain coursing down her cheeks.

If Pierce looked behind him, all he’d see was a pathetically wet woman with water streaming down her face on the back of a bedraggled horse. He would never know she cried.

After riding in the torrential downpour for several hundred yards, Pierce’s horse tossed his head into the air and took off.

Startled by the sudden movement, Sassy danced sideways.

Blinded by the rain in her eyes, Roxanne scrubbed a hand across her face and peered ahead.

Several yards in front of Pierce a blurry shadow darted toward the shallow river cutting through the center of the narrow canyon. The foal? She could only hope so. Because if it was the shooter, she didn’t know what she could do to protect herself.

Roxanne dug her heels into Sassy’s flanks. The horse leaped forward as the sequence of events unfolded before her.

With one hand, Peirce held the reins, while his other hand reached for the rope hanging from the side of his saddle. His arm rose high above his head, the rope swinging in a wide loop. When Pierce launched the lasso, the ring dropped over the head of the small horse that appeared too young to be weaned.

Pierce’s horse dug his hooves into the slippery soil, sliding forward with the force of the foal’s tug on the rope.

As soon as the two beasts came to an unsteady halt, Pierce dropped from his saddle and raced toward the filly.

Roxanne reached them at the same time, slipping from her horse’s back to the ground. She stumbled, regained her footing and ran forward, flinging her arms around the filly’s neck to add her weight to Pierce’s hold until the frightened animal calmed.

Pierce spoke to her in a deep, monotone voice, whispering the words of his forefathers, the Lakota language rolling smoothly off his tongue.

Not only did it soothe the frightened animal, it helped steady Roxanne’s racing heart.

The foal finally settled, eyes still wide, nostrils flaring, body quivering, her ribs expanding with each frantic breath she took. At least she didn’t try to break free of Pierce and Roxanne. A fierce surge of triumph filled Roxanne. Despite everything that was wrong—and increasingly dangerous—in her life, at least they’d managed to do this. They’d found and caught the foal, which felt like the first thing that had gone right in her life in way too long.

With the lighting flashing above the canyons and the thunder booming against the rocky cliffs, Roxanne stared across the filly’s neck at the man she’d once loved. Their gazes met and held.

Sometime during the struggle with the young horse, Pierce had lost his cowboy hat. Black hair lay plastered to his head, his high cheekbones standing out, glistening in the rain. His eyes glowed so darkly Roxanne couldn’t fathom what thoughts hid behind their inky depths.

All she knew was that her traitorous heart was not her own and hadn’t been since the day she’d fallen in love with Pierce Thunder Horse.

Chapter Three

Pierce’s heartbeat thundered along with the storm-
ravaged sky as he gazed into Roxanne’s eyes. It took all his willpower and a little help from
Wakan Tanka,
the Great Spirit, to break eye contact and focus on the task ahead. “We need to get the filly back to the ranch.”

Roxanne glanced back in the direction from which they’d come. “The trail will be too slippery to get out of the canyon.”

Pierce knew that, but he couldn’t bring himself to stay with Roxanne any longer than necessary. “We have to try.”

She shook her head. “No. We can’t risk it. Not when the filly is so scared to begin with. At least not until the rain stops. It wouldn’t be safe for us or our horses, either.”

He knew she was right. “Get the halter hanging on the side of my saddle.”

“Are you sure you have her?”

The filly bucked beneath his hold. Pierce refused to let go, his hands clamped around her neck. “Yes,” he said between gritted teeth. “Get it.”

Roxanne raced for the saddle, snatched the halter and a lead rope and returned at a slower, more steady pace so as to not spook the foal. She slipped the straps over the pony’s nose and buckled the clasp behind her ear. Once she had the lead snapped onto the ring at the side, she nodded. “I’ve got her.”

Slowly, Pierce let go of his hold around the filly’s neck.

Immediately, the young horse reared.

Roxanne dug her heels into the ground, but the little horse dragged her through the mud anyway.

Pierce grabbed Roxanne around the middle and held on. With his other hand he reached for the lead rope.

Together, they wrestled the filly to a standstill, Pierce’s hand closing around Roxanne’s on the rope.

Not until he had the foal under control did Pierce note how close he was to Roxanne. Her drenched body pressed against his, the cold rain doing nothing to cool the heat pooling in his loins.

His hand curled around her hip, dragging her closer. He sucked in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of honeysuckle, the knot in his gut tightening. “Why did you have to come back into my life?”

Her body stiffened, the hand beneath his convulsing around the rope. “Trust me, I had no intention of crossing paths with you.” Despite her harsh words, her voice shook.

“Then get away, and stay away from me.” He pushed her away from his body, both hands wrapping around the lead rope.

“I can’t, until this storm clears.” With her back to him, she walked several steps away, then swung around to face him. Hands perched on her hips, her blue eyes flashed through the rain running down her face. “Pending clear skies and dry trails, we’re stuck with each other. Not my choice, but I’ll deal with it. For now, we need to find shelter until this storm blows over.”

“Got anything in mind?” The foal bucked and Pierce gritted his teeth, holding on.

“There are some caves somewhere around here. My brother…” Her voice caught and she looked away. “We used to camp close by when we fished in the river.” She grabbed her horse’s reins and Cetan’s and left Pierce standing there holding on to the filly.

He could choose to follow or continue arguing with the rocks in the rain. For a moment he debated staying put, convinced the cold rain seemed a whole lot cozier than holing up in a cave with an angry ex-fiancée. One look at his charge and he knew the filly deserved better. Besides, until the shooter was caught, Pierce knew he wasn’t going to be comfortable having his eyes off Roxanne for long, no matter how hard it was to look at her and know that she’d never be his again. Pierce fell in step behind Roxanne and the two horses, dragging the stubborn little beast with him.

Within fifteen minutes of trudging through rain and mud, Roxanne located the first of a series of caves she’d spent many summers camping in with her brother and father. The memories they evoked made a cold lump rise in her throat, reminding her why she could never forgive Pierce Thunder Horse.

A jagged crevice, wide enough for two horses to stand abreast, allowed them to enter without ducking, bending or otherwise forcing the animals through. The opening also allowed a moderate amount of light inside. The cave’s interior, carved out of solid rock through years of erosion, was the size of a barn.

Getting the filly inside took a little more time and patience, but with Roxanne’s help, Pierce maneuvered the frightened animal through the passageway, tying her to a boulder large enough to anchor her.

“I’ll be right back. I need to radio my brothers and let them know we’re okay and will stay here until the rain lets up.” He went back through the crevice to stand at the opening of the cave, far enough away from the horses the static wouldn’t bother them. The distance from Roxanne helped him to think as he made contact with his brothers. Too bad he couldn’t come up with any solutions to keep Roxanne safe and also far, far away from him.

* * *

T
IRED
AND
COLD
TO
THE
bone, Roxanne dragged the saddle from Sassy and let it fall to the floor. What had happened to her strength? She felt as weak as a kitten. Determined to pull her own weight, she lugged the saddle up onto a large rock to dry. She used the saddle blanket to rub down the horse, then stretched the damp blanket over another rock.

Pierce reentered the cave.

“They didn’t try to come down the trail after us, did they?” Roxanne asked.

“No. But they were about to when I called. They’d been searching the area and were fortunate enough to find some bullet casings before the rain hit. I told them where we were, and sent them back to the ranch. They’re not going to find anything else out there in this weather. They’ll contact the sheriff’s department and let them know about the casings.”

Once both horses were cared for, Roxanne trudged her way through the darkness, searching for anything they could use for firewood. When she and her brother had last been inside the cave years ago, they’d left enough fuel to burn for the next visit, knowing firewood was scarce on the plains.

In the shadows farther away from the entrance, she located the ring of stones they’d arranged for the fire. That was expected. Less expected was what she found at the center of the circle—charred firewood, discarded cans and plastic wrappers that had definitely
not
come from her or Mason.

“Someone has used this cave. By the looks of this trash, fairly recently.” Roxanne lifted a plastic wrapper and something shone brightly beneath, catching the little bit of light from the cave’s access. “Interesting.” She pushed the object out of the dirt. “It’s a bullet.” From the shooter? Well, who else could it be? This cave was on Carmichael property, and there certainly wasn’t anyone who had permission to be using it.

Pierce caught her hand as she reached for the shiny metal. “Don’t. We might be able to lift prints. And let me have that plastic wrapper.” He tore the tail of his shirt off and picked up the unexploded round and the wrapper using the piece of fabric, tucking the wad into his jeans pocket.

Roxanne rearranged the ring of stones, searching for any other items of interest. “You think the man who camped here is the same man who shot at me?”

His lips thinned into a straight line. “We won’t know until the state crime lab can perform the forensics on the casing and compare it to the ones my brothers found.”

“Hopefully, the sheriff made it out to the ranch and has started the investigation.”

Pierce’s jaw clenched at the mention of the sheriff.

Cold slithered across Roxanne’s skin, reminding her of what she’d been searching for in the first place. She inched her way to the darkest corner, hoping any critters who might have called this cave home had scurried out, preferring the warmth of the summer prairie to the cool darkness. She found the stash of tinder and dry wood they’d left well before her brother’s death, still hidden behind a boulder.

As she emerged into the meager light carrying an armful of firewood, Pierce had pulled out the bag of sandwiches and trail mix his mother had insisted on him bringing. When he saw what Roxanne held, he dropped the bag next to the stone ring and relieved her of her burden. “You shouldn’t be carrying that. You might get that gash bleeding again.”

She thought about arguing but decided it wasn’t worth it. Besides, her arm really did hurt. If he wanted to take care of the fire himself, that was fine with her.

Within minutes a cheerful fire burned brightly, lighting even the darkest corners of the cavern, chasing away the shadows and spiders.

Roxanne laid her saddle blanket on the ground beside the flames to dry, and then collapsed in the dirt close to the fire, grateful for the warmth as the chill of damp clothing set in. Her teeth clattered together, the ache in the back of her head intensifying as the painkiller she’d taken earlier wore off. She rubbed the knot at the base of her skull, kneading the soreness, hoping to ease the ache in the absence of medication.

“Here, let me,” said a brusque voice from behind her, and her fingers were brushed aside.

Warm, callused hands curled around her neck. Thumbs avoided the lump, smoothing the hair and skin in gentle circles.

Tense muscles relaxed, the soreness fading as Roxanne pushed aside the fact that Pierce was the source of her relief. For a moment, she let the heat of his fingers chase away the chill inside, leaning back into his broad chest.

The thumbs stilled, and his hands froze against her skin.

A shiver, originating at the base of her spine, rocketed all the way up her back, shaking her violently. Once the trembling began, it didn’t abate.

His hands jerked away from her and he stood, backing up several steps. “You have to get out of those wet clothes.”

“And w-what am I s-supposed to wear in the m-mean time?” she quipped, the chattering of her teeth taking the barb out of her response.

“Wearing nothing is better than keeping the dampness against your skin. The moisture conducts heat away from your body.”

“I know that.” Still, she couldn’t quite stomach the thought of undressing in front of him. With everything that had happened with the shooter and her injury, she felt too vulnerable. Common sense told her that she needed to get the clothes away from her skin, but every instinct protested. She couldn’t let herself be weak where Pierce Thunder Horse was concerned, lest it create a leak in the dam of emotions she’d held in check since he’d returned.

Stubbornly, she wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling them up against her body for more warmth. Her body’s trembles turned into bone-shaking shivers, so violent she thought she’d rattle apart.

“Good grief, woman. It’s not as though I haven’t seen you naked before.” He grabbed her hand and urged her to her feet, standing her in front of him. His hands clamped down on her shoulders and he rubbed them through the damp cotton of the T-shirt she wore.

“You’re freezing. I suspect shock is setting in from your fall and injury. If we don’t get you warmed up, you could have some serious problems, and we both know that there’s no way I could get you some help until the weather clears.”

“Well, when you put it that way.” She pressed her hands into his chest, pushing against him. “I can undress myself.”

He let go of her, his lips twisting. “Go for it.”

Her fingers fumbled with the hem of her shirt. They shook so hard, she couldn’t manage to pull it up over her torso. “I don’t know…what’s…wrong…” Tears welled in her eyes, and before she could stop them, ran down her cheeks. Now she couldn’t even see what she was doing.

“Give it up.” Pierce’s whispered words stirred the wisps of hair beside Roxanne’s ear, his breath warming her cold skin.

“Never,” she said, though her hands fell to her sides. Giving it up would have to mean trusting him, and she couldn’t do that. She
couldn’t!
But when he reached out to her again, she found that she couldn’t quite bring herself to stop him, either. She’d been cold for so very long…and Pierce was always so warm.

Deft fingers made quick work of tugging her shirt up and over her head, easing it past the wound on her shoulder and the back of her scalp.

Roxanne’s breath lodged in her throat and her gaze traveled upward to connect with the darkness of the Lakotan’s eyes. Months of sorrow, of love lost and families betrayed couldn’t begin to melt away in one look.

She wanted to say
no,
wanted to shake her head, push him away, stay strong all on her own, the way she had for months. But God help her, she also wanted to say
yes,
to relax and let someone else take control, maybe even take care of her for a little while.

In the end, she didn’t say anything at all. Neither did he. Instead, his lips lowered, so slowly she had plenty of time to resist, to turn away and run.

But she didn’t.

* * *

E
VERY
THOUGHT
,
NERVE
,
beat of Pierce’s heart centered on Roxanne. Her fiery red hair lay wet and curling against her face, her mouth opened, her tongue flicking out to slide across her lips.

He bent to capture her full bottom lip between his teeth, sucking it into his mouth.

The lace of Roxanne’s bra rubbed against his shirt. The urge to rip aside the fabric swelled inside him. He had to touch the full, rounded softness of her breasts, to smooth his hands over the swells, rediscovering the curves and warmth of Roxanne’s naked skin.

He buried his face in the curve of her neck, nipping and sucking at the pulse beating wildly there.

When Pierce realized she was just as affected by him as he was her, he continued his assault, tossing her shirt to the floor. He unclasped her bra, easing the straps over her shoulders and down her arms, his gaze following its progress as her breasts sprang free. He cupped one in his palm and touched the rigid nipple with the tip of his tongue, lost in the taste of her.

Her chest rose on a gasp, her head falling back. Roxanne’s hand reached out to circle Pierce’s neck, bringing him closer so that he could suck the nipple into his mouth, pulling hard.