Chapter 14
Her nails bite into my skin, her face a deathly shade of pale; the fear running through her twists her pretty face. For a woman who hasn’t shown an ounce of vulnerability since she got here, this feels akin to a blade twisting inside of me.
There is nowhere for her to hide. She can’t ride, not with her leg and the wide-open space. They’ll spot her a mile off if they come out of those trees, and it’s those trees, right where they are, that can offer the only safe space for her.
“We need to kill them,” She rushes out. “Where’s your gun?”
“Elena,” I grasp her arms, “I don’t have it.”
“What do you mean you don’t have it!?” She hisses.
It isn’t often I don’t carry, and I don’t know why I chose today of all days not to bring the handgun with me. I prefer my shotgun personally, but that’s a bitch to carry around while I’m working.
“You need to hide in there,” I gesture to the trees.
Her eyes go wide. “I can’t.”
“You have to.”
“K-Knox,” Her voice trembles.
Grasping the back of her head, I bring her toward me. “I won’t let them find you.”
A tremor works through her as her hands grip the rough material of my worn work shirt.
“Hide,” I order, “Now.”
She stumbles away from me, her eyes wide before she spins and runs the best she can into the cover of the trees, right toward the very people looking for her. It’s the only option.
Her body slips into the shade, crunching sounding beneath her feet until everything falls silent enough I hear the echo of the men she’s running from.
They’re not even attempting to be quiet, their steps loud, voices even more, and through the gaps, I see the first sign of the suit.
I pick up my hammer and get back to work, or at least I make it look that way.
My attention is on them, and their steps gain closer. I can’t see or hear Elena.
Honey anxiously fidgets behind me. She isn’t secured, so has every opportunity to run, but I know she won’t, no matter how scared she gets. She’s a good girl, loyal to a fault.
The first one comes into view a few feet inside the woodland, the second right behind him, and I pause with my hammer, lifting my head as if I didn’t know they were there.
Keeping my grip strong, I force myself to relax. “Can I help you?”
Honey bucks behind me, startling the two guys enough that they reach behind them, for what I guess are their weapons.
“Easy,” I hold my hands up. “She’s just nervous. Not a fan of strangers.”
They eye her warily, so I put myself directly in front of her, offering her my comfort, which she takes, even so, she paws at the ground, her head bobbing.
“You lost?” I press.
“No,” The one closest to me says, his hand still behind his back, “We’re looking for someone.”
“Oh, yeah?” I dangle the hammer at my side, a picture of ease as I rub at the back of my neck. “You got a name? Maybe I can help, though we’re the only ranch within fifteen miles from here.”
“She’s not from around here.” He relaxes a touch. “Went hiking and never came home.”
“You contacted S and R?” I ask.
They frown, confused.
“Search and Rescue,” I clarify, “Got a whole team down in town that specializes in that kind of thing, we get quite a few folks that go missing in these mountains. Dangerous place to be if you don’t know it.”
“We’ll get right on that,” He says, “You sure you haven’t seen anything? She’s quite hard to miss.”
Damn right she’s hard to miss.
“Black hair, blue eyes.” Wrong. Her eyes aren’t blue, though I can understand why someone could mistake them as such. In passing, that’s how they look, but they’re a violent storm, tumbling clouds lit up from within by lightning. “Pretty.” He finishes.
Not the word I’d describe her as either.
“Not seen her,” I tell them. “Are you sure she came this way?”
“Not sure,” They answer, “We’ve been searching for days.”
“Days?” I let out a long breath. “These parts aren’t kind, if she’s been out here days…”
I let the last of my sentence hang in the air.
From inside his jacket pocket, the first man pulls a card, handing it over to me. I reach for it, seeing a telephone number and that’s all, but there is an emblem in the corner.
ADL.
“You hear or see anything, give us a call,” He says. “You’ll be rewarded, of course.”
“Is she a criminal?” I keep up my clueless mask.
“Something like that,” He replies. “Just call us if you see or hear anything, yeah?”
“Sure,” I agree. “You’ll find your way okay?”
“No issues.” He steps back.
“Well, y’all have a good day.”
“You too,” He replies as he turns and begins walking back into the trees.
With their retreat, I get back to work, keeping at it long after the sounds of them disappear.
I keep going for at least twenty minutes, ensuring they’re long gone when I finally relax and look toward the place where I last saw Elena.
I suck my lips between my teeth and whistle, the sound a screech in the silence around us.
A few seconds pass before I hear branches snapping, but she stumbles out of the trees a moment later, her hair disheveled, branches and leaves stuck in the tresses as if she had literally climbed into a bush to hide.
Her eyes flick left and right, scanning her surroundings.
“They’re gone,” I assure her, offering my hand to her.
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah, darlin’,” Her soft palm slides across my rough one, and I see her body physically relax on her. Too much.
Her knees give out beneath her, and she sags, but I’m there to catch her, keeping her from falling.
“I’ve got you,” I promise.
She clings to me in this moment of vulnerability, she clings, her hands curled into fists in my shirt, her head buried in that soft spot at my shoulder. It softens something in my chest, makes my hands move to cradle her, and has my heart thumping a little harder in my chest.
“I need more time,” She sniffles against me.
“I know.” Her hair is like silk under my hands, running through my fingers like the softest sand.
She shudders and pulls away, my hand remaining at the base of her skull. “Thank you.”
“I won’t let them anywhere near you,” I vow.
A soft smile touches her pouty lips. “I appreciate that.”
I make quick work of finishing the fence, it’s a temporary fix, and then move back toward Honey, packing my tools into the saddlebag. I’ll have to come out to replace this section, put in new pillars and nails to hold it, but for now this is fine.
Elena lingers, looking toward the trees, her arms wrapped around herself.
“Come on,” I beckon her.
She comes without argument, stopping at my side with that same defeated look on her face. I don’t fucking like it.
Reaching for her, I slot my hand under her arms, trying real fucking hard not to hurt her already hurting ribs.
She allows it, and I hoist her up onto Honey, positioning her exactly how I did on the ride over here.
The stretch it would put on her thighs to split them over the back of a horse would be too much on the delicate and still-healing skin.
I climb on up behind her, taking the reins into my hands as I steer the mare around, pointing her in the direction of home.
Elena settles into me, using my body as a cocoon.
She curls right in, resting her head in the soft spot between my shoulder and neck, her legs thrown over one of my thighs.
She remains silent the entire ride back, but she purposely keeps her body pressed to mine.
The sun has dipped behind the mountains, allowing us some reprieve from the brutal heat though it’s still warm, the humidity making the clothes on my body stick to my skin.
The ride consists of nothing but the sound of Honey’s hooves, and when we return to the ranch, I hop off to help Elena down, and she immediately goes for the house, those arms banded around herself.
It’s an attempt to keep all her pieces together, I realize.
She’s a woman who has it all mapped out, organized, and today wasn’t on the itinerary.
Just like her attempted murder.
Just like her stumbling onto my ranch, searching for a safe place to land.
I leave her, it’s what she needs — that time to think, to build those walls back up and go about returning Honey to the stables. She follows with ease and returns to her stall in the stables without argument.
I reach for a peppermint I keep in my pocket and offer it to her, her mouth immediately reaching down to take it. The rounds will be shortly, and her feed will be replenished, so after a quick stroke, I leave her and head toward the house.
Chase shouts something to the hands, the chickens cluck and shout while Ralph continues to make that horrendous bellowing noise in the paddock, but it feels like home tonight. Busy. Loud. Chaotic.
Stepping through the door, my ears home in on the sound of water running from the bathroom at the back of the house. Elena’s boots are placed neatly beside my second pair of boots, her hat hanging on the hook next to where I would usually leave mine.
Once I’ve dropped everything off, I head back out, toward the mess house where I can already smell the food cooking even though I’m barely halfway there.
A ruckus begins the moment I step through the doors, a cheer I don’t get when I have no idea what we’ve just won.
“They think you finally found a woman to settle down with,” Chase explains.
Not what I need at all.
“It’s not like that.”
Chase shrugs, “Don’t tell ‘em that. They’re thinking you’re finally gonna turn soft.”
I huff my laugh. “Not likely.”
“Nothing wrong with a bit of wishful thinking.” He heads off to serve himself a plate so he can sit and eat with the rest of the crew, but I pluck up two plates, making them identical.
It’s a chicken roast tonight, with meat, vegetables and roasted potatoes, a thick gravy to tie it all together poured over the top. When it’s all served, I head for the exit so I can sit and eat with Elena.
Just like every night so far, she’s nowhere to be seen until she smells the food wafting in from the kitchen. It’s a lure she cannot resist, and quite honestly I like feeding her. As I pull the glasses from the cupboard, she emerges, chasing the smell of good food and a stiff drink.
Her hair is wet and pulled across one shoulder, leaving a wet patch on her white t-shirt, and she’s in a little pair of shorts, her thigh now free of bandages.
The bruising is darkening by the day, but the wound itself is healing, as slow as it might be.
Her grey eyes meet mine, and I jerk my chin to her plate, the drink by the side.
Her steps are silent as she goes, lowering herself into the chair without a word, and she begins to eat. It’s the quietest I have seen her thus far, and I’m not sure I like it.
“How’s the pain?” I eventually ask.
She flicks her eyes up, looking at me from beneath her thick lashes, “Fine.”
Stubborn woman.
She finishes up her food and gets up, placing it in the sink before she wanders toward the knife block that barely ever gets used.
I can’t stop watching, wondering what the fuck she could be doing.
She pulls each knife out, presses her finger to the blade to check the sharpness before she decides on the biggest one, grasps it and begins to walk back to her room.
My fingers pinch the bridge of my nose.
Fucking train wreck.