Chapter 28
Men entered the house with a fury, more standing outside the property. Diver was nowhere to be seen. Why wasn’t he anywhere around? The dog should be there, guarding the house.
Ronan swallowed hard, looking through the bushes, watching the men outside the house. There were only four of them, one for each corner.
For a moment, it felt like Ronan couldn’t breathe as he looked at them. The last time he had been this close to any of them was when he and Evander were running their investigation into Ambrose and his men. Then all the accidents had happened. Ones that looked like Evander had been involved.
He hadn’t. Ronan knew that without a doubt, but still, it didn’t look good.
And when that last accident happened, the one that killed Evander, well, everyone looked to Ronan because they had been partners.
Ronan swallowed hard, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the watch again. He kept running his thumb over the gold, his breath coming in short bursts while he watched the men.
There were at least five, excluding Ambrose and Conrad, inside. Four outside. Put all of them together, and there were eleven men Ronan was going to have to go through to get to Cressida.
“It’s going to be okay,” Ronan whispered under his breath, watching the house.
There was no way he could go running in there. Not with the number of men with Ambrose.
Ronan looked down at the watch. “What would you do? Something stupid, surely. You would rush in there, screaming your head off, not taking time to consider all the ramifications. You’ve never considered them all.
Not once in your life do I think you ever thought about the consequences of your actions before you went through with them. ”
Ronan missed Evander desperately in that moment. Even with eleven men, Evander would take one look at that house and charge in there with a battle cry that would rival a war general.
Doing that wouldn’t be useful.
It wouldn’t be helpful.
It would leave all of them in danger with nobody on the way to help them.
Perhaps there was time to turn back to town and get the sheriff. He could tell the sheriff about his past with Ambrose, and what had become a hostage situation, and the sheriff would be able to help.
Ronan ran a hand over his jaw, his mind at war as voices drifted on the wind, drawing his attention away for a moment.
“Shame that poor woman’s troubles are coming back,” a man said, walking beside what looked to be the doctor with his black bag. “She’s been doing well for months now. It seems like things are only going to be more difficult for her if the fainting spells are back.”
Ronan bristled, unsure how a man who had to be one of Ambrose’s men would know so much about Etta. Was there anything Conrad hadn’t told them?
“She’s strong, and she’s going to pull through,” the doctor said, his voice gruff as they reached the path that led from the road to the Lockridge house. “There’s more reason to worry about her sister.”
The man’s brows pulled together, putting on a show as if he knew the sisters personally, as if he had any stake in the game. “Cressida seems fine.”
“Being a caretaker for a loved one is a burden few understand. It’s one of the hardest things you can do. It requires endless patience and putting yourself at the end of the line, and it changes your relationship forever. It’s a thankless job, and you’re left a changed person in the end.”
Ronan swallowed hard at the doctor’s words. Cressida wouldn’t be able to survive the rest of her life happily if she had to keep caring for Etta without the assistance of another person. It was too much for her to bear.
As the doctor and the man drew closer to the house, Ronan was about to make himself known, but a hard hit came to the back of his head, sending him pitching forward.
Someone was on top of him before he knew what to do, their knee pressing into his back for a moment. When the weight left, he was hauled to his feet, a gun pressed into his lower back.
“If you know what’s good for you,” a low voice growled, “you’re going to start toward the house, and you’re not going to look back.”
Ronan held up his hands so the man could see them. It wasn’t the first time he had been held at gunpoint, and each time he got a little more worried that he wouldn’t be able to get out of it, that he was going to die.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as he walked to the house.
The man ushered him around back, staying out of sight of the man and doctor who had paused before getting to the front door, murmuring to themselves about one thing or another. Ronan wanted to listen, but there were more pressing matters at hand.
Like the gun at his back.
Ronan swallowed hard as he walked through the door, his gaze flickering around the house, trying to see where all the men were stationed.
Unfortunately, all of them were in the room with Cressida and Etta.
If it had only been a couple of men, he might have been able to use Tobin’s help to get them out of there, but with eleven men, there was a slim chance, one that would risk Etta and Cressida getting hurt.
He wasn’t willing to take that risk until there was no other choice.
“Ronan,” Cressida said, her voice barely more than a breathless whisper, even as it carried over to him.
He looked to her, but there was something hard in her eyes. Something that didn’t look like the affection that had been there only days before.
He couldn’t blame her for that, though. He was the one who had taken off without telling her he was leaving. He was the one who had distanced himself from her in a sad attempt to protect them both.
Ambrose stood as Ronan was pushed into the room. “Well, it looks like the party can finally begin.”
Etta glowered at him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Your friend was the one who hurt me, and you said nothing about it!”
Ronan paused, his mouth going dry. “What are you talking about?”
Conrad sighed and shook his head, watching Ronan with a smug smile curving the corners of his lips. “You should’ve known that the truth was going to come out eventually.”
Tobin stood, kicking the man behind him and sending him off-kilter. Ronan lunged for him, too, his back to Ambrose as he took the watch from his pocket and passed it to Tobin.
“Get him!” Ambrose shouted.
The man Tobin had kicked was the first to move, lunging at Ronan and knocking him to the floor, the air forced from Tobin’s lungs. There was a hard hit to the side of Tobin’s head, blood spilling immediately, Tobin losing consciousness as Etta screamed.
Ronan groaned, trying to roll out from under the man, but it was no use. The man was a heavy weight pressing him down hard.
“Get him to his feet,” Ambrose ordered as a knock came at the door. “Conrad, go answer that.”
Hands gripped Ronan tight, hauling him to his feet, setting him upright. Ronan glowered at Ambrose as Conrad left the room.
“You have me now.” Ronan glanced at Cressida, trying to will her to look at him, but she wouldn’t. She seemed intent on staring at Etta.
But when the tear slipped down Cressida’s cheek, Ronan’s heart broke.
He sucked in a sharp breath, wanting to comfort her. He wanted to tell her that he would handle this, and she and Etta would be free, but there was no way he could deal with all the men, even with Tobin’s help.
Ambrose rolled his eyes. “Don’t pretend to be the hero.”
The doctor entered the room, but he was no sooner taking in the scene before him than a pistol was slamming down on the back of his head.
Ambrose grinned and eyed the sisters. “Now, are the two of you going to cooperate, or are we going to have to do this the hard way?”
Cressida stared at him with nothing but hate in her eyes. “I hope you burn in hell for all that you’ve done.”
There was a tense silence between them, Ambrose’s hand raising as if he was going to hit her. Conrad gave a slight shake of his head.
“If you hit her, this is only going to end poorly for the rest of us,” Conrad said, his voice tight as he looked at Cressida with something that might be considered concern in his eyes.
Cressida glowered back at him, and Ronan’s chest swelled with pride. She wasn’t going to let anyone intimidate her. She wasn’t willing to show them how scared she was, even though Ronan could see the slight tremble to her body.
Ambrose said nothing for a long time, pacing back and forth across the living room. There was the sound of hoofbeats in the distance, getting louder as he flew to the window.
“Why is the sheriff riding here?” he snapped, turning and glaring at Conrad. “What did you do?”
Conrad seemed to draw in around himself. “I couldn’t let you hurt them.”
“You’re going to rot in jail beside me,” Ambrose hissed, lunging for him and grabbing him by the collar. “And the first chance I get, I’m going to kill you.”
The sheriff flew in, taking in the scene, his deputies close behind him and holding guns aimed at the men. Ambrose’s men were quick to scatter, only two lingering behind as the rest hurried out the door.
Cowards.
The sheriff stepped forward, his gaze drifting over the men gathered. “I’m Sheriff Bothwell. What seems to be happening here?”
Ambrose sighed as he clasped his hands together in front of him. “Ronan Thorne is a dangerous man, Sheriff. I saw him abducting this man and these women. We heard shouting, which is why we entered the house.”
“The same traveling companions who just took off running?” Sheriff Bothwell arched a fluffy black eyebrow.
The doctor groaned from his position on the floor, his eyes opening, though he was still clearly dazed as he looked around.
“No.” Ambrose shook his head. “I don’t know who those men were, but I can only assume they were working for Ronan and have left him to face the consequences of his actions on his own.”
“What happened?” the doctor murmured, his hand to his head.
“Etta needs help,” Cressida said, her voice breaking. “And that horrible man is trying to frame others even though he’s been holding us hostage.”
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Ambrose said, trying to whip out a charming smile.