Riley's Retribution Page 5

  “We started with cold hosing three times a day. Now we’re on to warm, dry bandages.”

  He fed Irma a carrot, which she gobbled up, telling him her appetite was good. On a more prosperous ranch the owner might have called out the vet. But he knew it wasn’t unusual for owners to treat minor problems, which certainly saved money.

  Another filly named Buttercup was obviously very pregnant.

  “When is she due?” Riley asked.

  “In a few weeks.”

  They discussed some of the other horses, then Riley continued on his fact-finding mission. “Who’s been running things?”

  “Jake.”

  “He’s doing a good job.” He hesitated for a moment. “So, would he resent someone taking over?”

  Kelly scuffed his foot against the hard-packed dirt. “I guess you’ll have to ask him.”

  Yeah, sure.

  “Has there been any vandalism at the ranch?”

  Kelly looked uncomfortable.

  “What?” Riley pressed.

  “We got some renters. They’re using the back forty for a garbage dump.”

  “What renters?”

  “Ask the boss lady.”

  “Okay,” Riley answered, then cleared his throat. “I noticed she took some flack in town. Do the men on the ranch—” he stopped and fumbled for what to say “—support her.”

  “Everybody here now is on her side.”

  “Now?” Riley probed.

  “There was a guy here—Greg Nichols. He made some…nasty comments.”

  “To her face?”

  “Not likely. But they got back to her, and she asked him to leave.”

  “Would Nichols make trouble for her?” Riley was thinking of the man who had shot at her from the bridge. If he knew her routine, he could have lain in wait for her. Or someone out here could have called him.

  “Maybe.”

  “What does he look like?”

  “Blond hair. Blue eyes. A big scar on his right cheek.”

  So he’d be easy to spot, Riley mused.

  They finished the tour back at the barn. Riley could go to the house and start perusing the books. But he didn’t want to barge in on Ms. Rogers. Their first meeting had been pretty crazy. Maybe he should give her some space. And himself, too. Taking the coward’s route, he decided to have a look around some of the ranch acreage. He found himself wondering if he’d find any signs of the guy named Greg Nichols. What if he were hiding out on the ranch? Was he watching Courtney’s activities?

  With a silent curse he reminded himself he wasn’t supposed to be looking for Nichols. He was supposed to locate Boone Fowler’s militia group so he could report back to Big Sky.

  Of course, Nichols could be with Fowler. So maybe if he found the militia group, he’d kill two birds with one stone.

  AFTER SADDLING UP a stallion named Monty, he rode east across a shallow river into rugged country with rolling hills covered by dry grass. Rugged snowcapped mountains rose in the background like sentinels.

  But he could easily skirt the patches of snow that still lay in the valley shadows.

  Of course, the ranch encompassed almost ten thousand acres, so there was a lot of territory to cover. But Big Sky had done aerial surveillance and pinpointed some areas to investigate.

  He brought Monty to a halt and turned in the saddle, taking in the wide-open spaces that stretched around him. Out here, he and the horse might have been the only two living creatures in the world.

  After two hours on the range, he found nothing out of the ordinary. So he headed back, then spent the rest of the day asking more questions, unobtrusively watching the men do their jobs and giving the horses a more thorough inspection. And all the time he was aware of Ms. Rogers’s absence.

  That evening he joined the rest of the hands at dinner, working hard to convey the impression that he was a regular guy who just wanted to fit in to the established patterns of the Golden Saddle Ranch.

  But when he went to sleep, he had no control over his unconscious mind. He dreamed about Courtney. Dreamed about holding her in his arms in a bed the way he had in that motel room. Only, in his sleep, the encounter hadn’t been quite so innocent. He’d started taking her clothes off, like a man uncovering buried treasure. And her hands had moved just as eagerly over him.

  He woke up angry with himself. In practical terms he was thinking that probably he should have gone out and gotten laid before he took this job. Then he wouldn’t be so focused on Courtney Rogers. She fascinated him. Exasperated him. Attracted him. She’d been ready to defend herself when she thought he was the guy who’d taken a shot at her. But she was hiding out from her own ranch manager.

  COURTNEY STEPPED BACK from the window. She’d been watching for Riley Watson, and he’d just stridden across the ranch yard and into the barn.

  He had an unsettling effect on her, like no one she’d ever met. He was so damn self-contained, yet below the surface she could sense his mind working.

  Too bad he was the sexiest man she’d met in a long time. That was another major problem. He had made her feel hot and needy, just from the way he looked at her.

  And she knew that he found her attractive. That was part of the lure of the man for her—the exhilaration of knowing that he was responding to her, even in her condition.

  Her lips firmed. She should be focused on the baby, not some cowboy who had just stepped into her life. Or was she so eager for attention, that she glommed on to the first guy who came along?

  She stalked down the hall, then stopped short at the room that she was fixing up as a nursery. For Emily. Or maybe Hannah. She wasn’t sure of the name yet, and she hated not being able to discuss her choices with anyone.

  She stroked her hand over her abdomen. “What do you think, Emily? Do you like that name? Or is Hannah better?”

  She’d let her imagination blossom as she’d decorated the room. The walls were a light green, with a colorful garden of flowers and a picket fence running around the bottom three feet of the walls. And in a fit of whimsy, she’d painted the ceiling blue and added fluffy white clouds.

  She fingered a pink and white blanket she’d bought on sale from an online company. Too bad nobody in Spur City had thought to give her a baby shower. With money so tight, she could have used the gifts. And she would have loved someone making a fuss over her.

  That last thought made her grimace. It sounded as if she was feeling sorry for herself. And that wasn’t true. She was going to make the best life she could for herself and her daughter.

  And she wasn’t going to let Riley Watson think she was a coward. Because she wasn’t. She simply hadn’t been prepared to meet anyone like him—not now.

  Marching out of the baby’s room, she hurried to the front hall and pulled on her coat. It was about time she stopped hiding in her own house. But just as she stepped out the door, she saw the man ride past who had been in her thoughts—and he didn’t look as if he was just taking Monty around the ranch yard.

  RILEY RODE NORTH into an area where the landscape was flatter. A couple of miles from the ranch yard, he caught sight of something interesting through the trees and ordered Monty to a halt. Just visible through a screen of branches, he could see an old cabin.

  He’d better check the place out.

  The militia could be using it—or that Gary Nichols guy could be squatting here.

  He dismounted and tied the horse to a low pine branch. Then crept slowly forward, moving from tree to tree in case somebody took a notion to shoot at him.

  The cabin sat in a large clearing. He observed it from cover for several minutes, then stepped into the open. Now that he was exposed to view, he moved more rapidly.

  Maybe he should have been paying better attention to where he put his feet.

  The ground was scattered with brush. When he crossed a patch with a heavy accumulation of branches and leaves, the surface gave way under his feet with a ripping sound. Before he could catch himself, he was tumbling into blackne
ss…and cursing his own stupidity.

  Chapter Five

  Riley dropped through space, struggling to stay on his feet. Knees bent, he landed with a thud. As far as he could tell, he was at the bottom of a pit someone had deliberately dug.

  Daylight poured in from the hole where he’d broken through. And as he tried to move his feet, he found they were stuck between some wickedly pointed stakes poking out of the ground.

  They were lethal enough to pierce flesh, and he was damn lucky that he hadn’t landed on his ass.

  He took a quick physical inventory, moving his arms and legs, then twisting his torso. It appeared that he hadn’t seriously injured himself in the fall, which was also damn lucky.

  He looked up, inspecting the ragged hole in the brush through which he’d fallen. So—was this an animal trap… Or was this a man trap?

  He brought his attention back to the broken roof above him. It looked like slender sticks had been placed across the pit. They provided just enough support to hold the brush in place. And he’d stepped through the surface—like a damn fool out for a stroll in the park.

  Well, that mistake was in the past. Now he’d better figure out how to get out before whoever had set the trap came back to see if he’d caught anything.

  The walls of the hole were too far apart for him to brace his back and feet and climb up that way. He decided to try to pull out the stakes, work them into the side and make a ladder. He had almost freed one, when a noise from above made him tense.

  Footsteps.

  Someone was up there, crunching across the open space. Coming to scoop him up.

  Well, he wasn’t going to stand here waiting for the trapper to get the drop on him. Pulling his gun from the holster at his waist, he held it pointed upward in a two-handed grip, ready to shoot anybody who attacked him.

  When a shadow fell across the opening, his finger tensed on the trigger.

  Then somebody called his name. “Riley?”

  A curse sprang to his lips. He knew that voice. It was Courtney Rogers, and he felt his heart stop and start again in double time. He had come within a hair’s breadth of shooting her.

  “Riley, answer me. Are you all right?” she shouted down at him, the question shaking with anxiety.

  Her face appeared over the side of the opening above him. When she saw him standing so far below her, she gasped. “Are you all right?” she asked again.

  “Yeah,” he answered, then followed with a question of his own. “What the hell are you doing here—if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “I wanted to talk to you.”

  “You had all of yesterday and a couple hours this morning to do that.”

  He saw her face contort. “I was working my way up to it.”

  “Oh, yeah? What does that mean?”

  “I think you can figure it out.”

  He wanted clarification. But he didn’t think he would get it now. They were both silent for several seconds while he mulled over her confession.

  “How did you find me here?” he demanded.

  “I saw you saddle up and ride out. So I decided to follow you.”

  “You’re alone?” he asked, hearing the strained sound of his own voice.

  “Yes.”

  He was aghast to hear the next words that popped out of his mouth. “Why are you still riding? I mean…in your condition?”

  “My doctor says I can ride—until it feels uncomfortable.”

  “Okay,” he muttered, because decisions about her pregnancy were none of his business. Besides, he had more immediate problems to deal with, like not getting them both killed by whoever had dug this hole.

  Fear for her leaped inside him, but he made his voice crisp. “So let’s figure out how to get me out.”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t suppose you have a rope?”

  She made a clucking sound. “I used to carry one. I figured I wouldn’t be roping horses anytime soon.”

  “Well, we need an alternate plan. I was going to use the stakes down here for a ladder, but that eats up time. Are there any poles up there? Something I could use to haul myself up.”

  “Let me look.”

  She was gone for a long time, and his hands clenched and unclenched as he waited for her to reappear. He wanted to call out to her, but he knew that would give away too much—if someone else was hanging around up there.

  After what seemed like eons, he heard footsteps coming back, and he moved to the side of the pit and held his gun down beside his leg.

  “Courtney?”

  “Yes. Watch out. I’m sending a branch down.”

  The sky above him was suddenly obscured by a large mass of green. It slipped into the hole and landed, quivering, at the bottom.

  “Can you use that?” Courtney called.

  “Clever idea. I just hope I’m not too heavy.”

  The pine branch was large and sturdy, as big around as a small tree.

  “How did you get this thing loose?” he called up to the woman who looked anxiously over the edge of the pit.

  “There’s a knife in my saddle bag. I used it to make a cut. Then I pulled down on it until it broke.”

  He was tempted to yell at her that she shouldn’t have been doing anything so strenuous. But he had no idea of her physical limitations. And right now, his main job was to get the hell out of here.

  He set the limb upright, cut end down, and leaned it against the side of the pit. After making sure it was secure, he tested the branches that came off the sides. They were slender and bent easily, and he hoped they’d hold his weight. Maybe if he distributed it well, he’d be okay.

  And at any rate, he had no real choice. Without a rope or a ladder, the pine branch was his best chance of escape.

  Courtney leaned over the opening, looking down at him.

  “Stand back. When I come up, it’s going to be fast.”

  She did as he asked while he studied the pattern of the side limbs. Then he reached up and grabbed an upper branch at the same time that he found a foothold near the ground.

  Feeling like a monkey on steroids, he began to climb, praying that he made it to the top before the ladder fell apart.

  Needles whipped him in the face as he climbed upward. He ignored them and kept going. He was halfway up when the support under his left foot gave way with a loud crack. Above him he heard Courtney gasp.

  He wanted to tell her he was okay, but he couldn’t spare the breath. All he could do was keep scrambling upward.

  He was almost to the top, where the limbs were more slender. One of them gave way. Then another. As he started to drop backward, Courtney’s arm shot out. Her fingers grabbed the collar of his jacket, stopping his downward plunge just enough that he could grab the lip of the hole and haul himself over the edge.

  He flopped onto the ground, breathing hard from the exertion. Damn! He should have added more sessions in the gym to the list of preparations he’d made before coming here.

  Courtney came down beside him, her hand gripping his arm. “Riley, are you all right?” she gasped. “Riley, answer me!”

  He rolled onto his back, staring up at her. And the look of profound relief in her eyes, coupled with his own roiling emotions was too much for him.

  Without giving himself time to think, he reached for her, pulling her to him.

  She could have resisted, but she came willingly into his arms, sprawling on top of him.

  He was conscious of the cold, sharp air around him, the blue of the sky above him, the knowledge that he was alive and safe—thanks to the woman who was now in his embrace. Maybe he needed to express his gratitude. Maybe he needed to clarify what he was feeling at this moment.

  Inch by inch, giving her the opportunity to untangle herself, he pulled her mouth down to his own trembling lips. To his relief and astonishment, she came willingly. Maybe she meant the gesture as a quick kiss—a way to tell him how glad she was he had made it out of the trap. But once her lips connected with his, everything c
hanged.

  He felt the world spinning around him, felt something hot and rich leap between himself and the woman in his arms.

  He couldn’t speak for her motives. And he didn’t even know if he could trust her. But his brush with death had made him reckless.

  His hand stroked into her thick hair, holding her where he wanted her as he angled his head so that he could deepen the kiss.

  One taste of her, and the only thought in his mind was kissing her with all the passion suddenly welling inside him.

  And he was positive the reaction wasn’t one-sided.

  The kiss grew frantic as her mouth moved against his and her hands stroked over his shoulders. Pushing his hat off, she winnowed her fingers through his hair.

  He knew she’d been working to keep her distance from him since they’d climbed out of bed two days ago. Suddenly everything had changed. She was kissing him with all the sensuality he’d conjured up in his dream. And his response was no less fiery.

  He held her tight against his body, rocking her in his arms, urgency making his hands tremble. He wanted more. But not here. Not on the cold ground. He wanted her in a nice warm bed, like the one in the motel room.

  Yet he hadn’t abandoned sanity entirely, and he understood in some corner of his mind that what they were doing was wrong.

  Then one of the horses whinnied, reminding him exactly where they were.

  Her head jerked up, and she glanced wildly around, looking as confused as he felt.

  He growled out an apology. “Lord, Courtney, I’m sorry.”

  She rolled away from him, staring up at the sky, breathing hard. “I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

  “Don’t blame yourself. It was all my fault,” he said quickly, even when he knew that wasn’t precisely the truth. To his surprise he found his need to protect her was stronger than his need to act like the innocent party here.

  He sat up, snatching his hat off the ground and setting it on his head again, using the brim to shade his face.

  “You were glad to get out of that trap,” she said in a soft voice.

  “God, yes,” he answered, grateful that she’d given him some kind of plausible excuse for the inexcusable.