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Secluded with the Cowboy. Cassie Miles
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Автор произведения Cassie Miles
Жанр Зарубежные детективы
Издательство HarperCollins
“What about the men who are standing guard?”
“They stay put,” he said. “The house needs to be secure.”
“Okay, boss.”
“You boys get started. I’ll be with you in a minute.” As the ranch hands went out the door, Dylan turned to her. “I need to see to this problem.”
“No,” she said.
He took her hand. “I’ll get Carolyn to stay with you. This shouldn’t be a big deal, and I—”
“You can’t go,” she said. “Cut wires on the south pasture? That’s deliberate sabotage. Remember what Burke said about Nate staying in this area until he takes his revenge? He cut that fence.”
“I reckon you’re right. But there’s close to three hundred cattle in the south field. I need to help.”
“Nate’s baiting you, trying to draw you outside.” She reached up and touched his cheek. “Please, stay here with me.”
“I’m not hiding from Nate Miller.”
His green eyes darkened. She’d always loved the clarity she saw in his gaze. Though Dylan was good at disguising the way he felt, his eyes were truly windows to his soul. She saw his determination, fire and strength. She knew that he was ready to go into battle. My God, he was handsome. Her husband stood ready to protect her, to fight for her.
But right now she didn’t need a hero. “Listen to me. Please listen. If anything happens to you—”
“I can take care of myself.” His smile was fierce. “I’d welcome a showdown with that sorry son of a bitch.”
He made it sound as if this would be a fair fight, like a duel, with the two of them facing off. “Nate could be hiding in the forest with a rifle. He could pick you off before you know what’s happening. You could be dead before you have a chance to draw your gun.”
He leaned down and lightly kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
As he descended the staircase, she watched. She was proud of his courage. But furious at the same time. Even now, after everything she’d been through, he brushed her warning aside. “Stubborn,” she muttered under her breath.
After blowing her a kiss, he strode out the door, plunging headlong into danger. She sank down on the staircase and slumped forward, exhausted. But she knew she wouldn’t sleep. Not while Dylan was in jeopardy.
From behind her, a gentle voice offered, “Shall I make tea?”
She turned her head and looked up at Andrea, Dylan’s mother—a woman she barely knew. Nicole stood on the stair and adjusted her robe. Politely, she said, “It’s nice to see you.”
In a mauve kimono-style robe with a striped pattern at the sleeves and hem, Andrea looked big-city sophisticated, even without makeup. She pulled Nicole into a hug. “Thank God you’re all right. I was so worried.”
“Thanks, Andrea.”
“I should be thanking you.” She linked arms with Nicole and descended the staircase. “Until you came along, I’d pretty much lost contact with my son. You have no idea how much I appreciate the Christmas cards and birthday greetings that you send.”
Nicole hadn’t made a special effort. Keeping in touch with Andrea simply seemed like the right thing to do. “We’re family. Staying in touch is important.”
“I especially like the photos. My daughter in New York would love to come out here for a visit.”
“She’s welcome anytime.”
They entered the kitchen just as Carolyn and Burke stumbled out from the pantry. From the disheveled state of their clothing and their sheepish expressions, it was pretty obvious why they hadn’t run to answer the front door.
“What’s going on?” Carolyn demanded.
Her mother answered, “Some fencing was cut on the south pasture. Sabotage.”
“It’s got to be Nate Miller,” Burke said.
“Dylan has already gone running out there to help round up the cattle.” Andrea’s tone was authoritative. “I would appreciate it, Burke, if you went along to keep an eye on him. Carolyn, you stay here.”
“Why?” Carolyn was never one to accept orders without question.
Nicole said, “Because Nate wants revenge against the Carlisles. The whole family. You’d be a target.”
“She’s right,” Burke said, giving her a quick kiss. “I’ll take care of this. Maybe I can get your brother to put on a Kevlar vest.”
“Please do,” Nicole said. “A suit of body armor would be great.”
If anything happened to Dylan, she didn’t think she could stand it. He was stubborn, inattentive and arrogant. But he was still her husband.
DYLAN RODE with Burke across the field behind the horse barn toward the south pasture—a fenced area that had been the site of prior sabotage before Nicole was kidnapped. His schedule of rotating the two thousand head of Carlisle cattle on land they owned and land they leased had gotten out of whack. Now that Nicole was home, he could get back to the serious business of ranching. It wasn’t going to be easy. His foreman, Lucas Mann, had been killed when the ransom was delivered.
Thinking of that death, he cringed inside, still unable to believe that Lucas—a trusted employee of many years—had betrayed the family by helping the Sons of Freedom. Nicole would be heartbroken when he told her. She’d probably insist on handling the funeral in spite of Lucas’s treachery.
Dylan scanned the familiar terrain. The night had gotten cold. A brisk wind chased clouds across the moon in a portent of the snowfall that was predicted for tomorrow. He slowed his horse to a walk. From here, they could cut through the forest where—as Nicole had suggested—Nate Miller could be hiding with his rifle. That was the route Dylan wanted to take; he wanted a confrontation.
“This way,” he said to Burke.
“We should stick to the road.”
“I like the trees.” He tugged at the uncomfortable bulletproof vest Burke insisted he wear.
“You like the idea of finding Nate and getting into a shoot-out,” Burke said. “Can’t say that I blame you. But if you get yourself shot, Carolyn will kick my butt. That’s why we need to take the safer route.”
After a longing glance toward the dark forest, Dylan conceded and turned toward the road. “Let’s suppose that Nate cut the fence to draw me out here, and he’s planning an ambush.”
“Damn likely scenario,” Burke muttered.
“What’s the best way to handle it?”
“Do the opposite of what seems natural.”
“The opposite?” If Dylan hadn’t respected Burke’s talent for strategy, he would have laughed out loud. “You’re going to have to explain.”
“An ambush is a lure,” Burke said. “You’re Nate’s target. He wants to make you come to him.”
“So if I see the flash of gunfire or hear a shot, I shouldn’t respond by riding toward it.”
“Right,” Burke said. “Because that’s what he expects you to do.”
“I should back down.” He hated the idea, but it made sense. “Our advantage is in numbers. There are a lot of us and only one of him. We should go after him carefully. Make sure we cut off his escape.”
“You got it,” Burke said.
They approached the far edge of the field, close to Fiona Grant’s property.