The Rancher’s Runaway Bride (The Mountain Man’s Mail-Order Bride #4)

Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

L ayla

The roar of the crowd at the Devil’s Peak Rodeo fills the air, the dusty arena alive with energy as riders challenge the bulls, their determination palpable. I sit in the stands with Carson, his small hands clutching the railing as he watches, wide-eyed, the riders’ daring moves. My heart pounds, but not because of the bull-riding—it’s because of Cal.

He’s down there, standing tall and confident near the chute, his broad shoulders dusted with dirt and his hat tilted low. The sight of him makes my pulse race. He’s everything this mountain embodies—wild, untamed, and utterly captivating.

“Is Daddy going to ride next?” Carson asks, looking up at me with excitement sparkling in his eyes.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” I reply, smoothing his hair and forcing a smile. Inside, I’m nervous. Not about Cal riding, but because of the strange, uneasy feeling that’s been following me all day.

The waitress’s words from the diner haunt me: City men asking about Lisa.

It’s probably just paranoia. The rodeo has brought in people from all over, and the likelihood that anyone’s actually looking for me is slim. But the fear refuses to leave, curling in the pit of my stomach like a snake.

Carson cheers as another rider barely makes it eight seconds, and I try to focus on the event, on the laughter and joy radiating from him. But then I feel it—a shift in the air, a prickle at the back of my neck. I glance around the crowd, scanning faces, searching for something out of place.

And that’s when I see them.

Two men in dark suits, their eyes locked on me. My breath catches, my heart pounding so hard I feel it in my throat. It’s them. My father’s men. I know it in an instant.

“Carson, stay right here,” I say, my voice shaky. He looks up at me, confused. “Hang onto Mrs. Warner’s hand and don’t let go, okay?” My eyes catch Margie Warner’s, Slate and Zane’s mom, a serious look passing between us. “I’ll be right back.” She nods, turning to Carson with a bright smile.

“Where are you going, Mommy Layla?”

“I’ll be right back, sweetheart. Don’t move, okay?”

Before he can argue, I rise, clutching the rail as I weave through the crowd. My pulse races, my instincts screaming at me to run, but there’s nowhere to go. The men close in, their movements deliberate. I whirl around, searching for Cal, but the arena feels impossibly large, the distance between us insurmountable.

“Lisa Hastings,” one of the men says, his voice low and menacing.

I don’t respond, don’t acknowledge him. Instead, I turn and bolt, shoving through the crowd, ignoring the startled cries of people in my path. My only thought is to get back to Carson, to protect him but I don’t want to make him a target either. This is my worst fear, adding danger to the lives of the family I’ve come to love.

A hand grabs my arm, yanking me backward with enough force to make me stumble. Panic claws at my chest as I struggle against the iron grip, but it’s useless.

“You’ve caused enough trouble,” the man growls. “It’s time to come home.”

“No!” I scream, thrashing against him, but he’s unyielding. The other man steps forward, and together they start dragging me toward the edge of the crowd.

And then I see him.

Cal, standing on the edge of the ring, his eyes locked on me. His expression shifts from confusion to pure, unfiltered rage in an instant. He moves, vaulting over the fence with the grace and power of a predator. The crowd parts for him like water, his presence commanding.

“Let her go,” Cal growls, his voice deadly calm as he closes the distance between us.

The men hesitate, clearly recognizing the threat in his tone. But the one holding me tightens his grip, sneering. “This doesn’t concern you, cowboy.”

“It does when you put your hands on my wife,” Cal snaps, his fists clenching. His voice carries over the murmuring crowd, drawing gasps and whispers.

The man snorts. “She’s not your wife.”

“Wanna bet?” Cal steps closer, his eyes dark and dangerous. “Let her go, or I’ll make you.”

Before the man can respond, Cal lunges. His fist connects with the man’s jaw with a sickening crunch, and he drops like a sack of rocks. The other man lunges at Cal, but he’s ready, dodging the blow and retaliating with one of his own. His shoulders bunched with raw fury, power pulsing in every muscle.

I’m shoved aside in the chaos, falling to the ground as the two men brawl. Cal is a force of nature, his movements precise and brutal. The crowd erupts in shouts and gasps, the spectacle unfolding like something out of a movie.

“Mommy Layla!” Carson’s voice cuts through the noise, and I whip around to see him pushing through the crowd with Mrs. Warner, tears streaming down his face.

I scramble to my feet, rushing to him and pulling him into my arms. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.”

His little arms wrap around my neck, his sobs muffled against my shoulder as I hold him close, shielding him from the chaos. My eyes dart back to Cal just in time to see him deliver a final, bone-crushing blow to the second man. Blood sprays from the man’s nose and covers Cal’s fist.

Both men lie motionless on the ground, groaning in pain. Cal straightens, his chest heaving, his knuckles bloodied. His eyes find mine, and the fury in them softens as he takes in Carson and me, huddled together.

He’s at my side in an instant, his hands gentle as they cup my face. “Are you okay?”

I nod, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I’m fine. Carson’s fine. Thank you.”

His jaw tightens, and he pulls us both into his arms, holding us like he never wants to let go. The crowd around us buzzes with whispers and murmurs, but I don’t care. In this moment, it’s just us.

“No one’s taking you away,” Cal murmurs, his voice low and fierce. “Not now, not ever.”

I cling to him, my heart pounding with a mixture of relief and love. “I was so scared.”

“I’ve got you,” he says, his lips brushing my forehead. “I’ll always protect you.”

Carson wriggles between us, his small arms wrapping around Cal’s neck. “Daddy saved us!” he says, his voice full of awe.

Cal’s eyes meet mine over Carson’s head, and I see the emotion there—the love, the possessiveness, the promise. It takes my breath away.

His eyes soften, and a slow, crooked smile spreads across his face. “I love you, Layla.”

“I love you, too,” I whisper, the words settle over me like a warm blanket, filling the cracks in my heart. For the first time in years, I feel whole. And as we stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms, I know that this is where I’m meant to be.