Читать книгу Ransom At Christmas - Barb Han - Страница 11

Kelly Morgan. Will remembered that name from somewhere. Where?

As inappropriate as the thought seemed under the circumstances, he figured that he’d know if he’d met a woman this beautiful before.

After a few seconds, he realized how he knew her. The two of them had gone to grade school together. They’d been nothing more than kids. Damn, the memory of her reached back into his childhood. And to be fair, the Kelly Morgan he’d known was a tall, scrawny girl. Not a woman who’d filled out in sexy, soft-looking curves.

Being from a small town, he’d prided himself on having history with darn near all local families, but hers had kept to themselves. Kelly had had a quiet but strong quality even then.

And then the summer after fifth grade the family was gone. Years later, he’d heard that they’d relocated to Fort Worth for her dad’s work. Even now Will remembered looking for her that first day of middle school. There was something about the young Kelly that had brought out his protective instincts back then. Was the same thing happening now, too?

Kelly Morgan could take care of herself. Still, he recalled the almost too-thin girl who liked to sit by the window in the back of the room. She’d had a serious quality—too serious for her age. To this day it made him wonder where it came from and why.

“Tell me what’s going on and I’ll help,” he said, the memory softening his tone.

He needed to get her back to Domino before she passed out. In her state he couldn’t be sure the blood on her gown wasn’t hers. She might be hurt and not realize it.

His horse was a fifteen-minute walk from this part of Rushing Creek. He knew the land like the back of his hand, having grown up here.

Kelly took another step back and had to tighten her grip on the tree trunk to keep her balance.

“Tell me what’s going on. What happened to you?” he asked, but her eyes darted around frantically.

“He did this… I don’t know what he gave me,” she said hesitantly. He was close enough to see her pulse pounding rapidly at the base of her throat—a throat he had no business noticing…the soft angles or how silky the skin seemed.

Was this a simple case of woman who’d had too much to drink and ditched her fiancé on her wedding day? That wouldn’t explain the blood. She looked frightened and he wanted to believe it could be that simple. His survival skills, which had been honed in combat, made him think otherwise.

Why would she come into the woods? And what was she talking about? “What did he give you?”

He leaned in, close enough to pick up the scent of alcohol on her breath if it was there. There was no smell. Being this close to her stirred something inappropriate, though, and it was completely out of line given the situation.

Great job, Will. Way to keep yourself in check.

“Lean your weight on me,” he urged, trying to forget the familiar pain that came from seeing someone running in the opposite direction in a wedding dress.

Had Lacey had this same frantic, pained look on her face on their wedding day? Two years had passed, which should have been enough time to tuck away the memories and forget the whole thing had ever happened. Most of the time that was a no-brainer. Done. Then there were moments like these.

Will Kent had lived a charmed life. Until Lacey had crushed his heart with the heel of her boot. He bit back a bitter laugh. Wasn’t he being dramatic? It was most likely the fact that the anniversary of what was supposed to be their wedding was coming up in a couple of days.

A noise to Will’s left nearly caused Kelly to bolt like a motherless doe.

“Shhh,” he whispered. Her reaction heightened his awareness of their surroundings. Her emotions were on high alert and would be overkill for a woman who was solely ducking out on vows. The blood on her dress said there was more to the story.

“Pleas-s-s-e don’t let him hur-l me,” she said, slurring the words. Did she mean hurt? He assumed so.

He scanned the area before catching her eye. He brought his right index finger to his lips, indicating silence.

She unfocused her gaze for a few seconds, like she was looking into herself for answers. Then she blinked before locking onto something in the distance behind him.

Will jerked his head around in time to hear the crack of a gun going off, followed by the unmistakable sound of a bullet pinging off the tree next to him. His eyes immediately followed the sound and saw that the tree trunk had a chunk missing. That was about two feet from his head. His gaze flew in the direction of the gun.

A short man with a slight build who wore jeans and a dark hoodie was bolting toward them, shotgun barrel seeking a better look at its target.

There was no time for debate so he picked up Kelly and darted in between the trees running a zigzag pattern as fast as he could. Work on the ranch had kept him in solid shape, so he could push hard without being winded.

Kelly couldn’t have been wearing a worse color to blend in with the surroundings and to make matters worse her billowy dress bounced and trailed behind them with every step. The breeze toyed with the sinless white material. Her long wavy ringlets blocked his vision and he didn’t want to take in her scent even though it blasted through him, anyway. She smelled like flowers and sunshine on the first warm day of spring, when everything bloomed.

There were half a dozen questions zinging through his mind demanding a response. Answers would have to wait until the two of them were out of danger. He also had a flash of panic that the blood on her dress meant she’d been shot.

Will ducked as another bullet splintered a piece of bark a couple yards away. Thick trees would make getting a clean shot next to impossible and that played to his advantage.

Keeping a calm head no matter the circumstances had always been his strong suit.

Will ran through the situation in his mind as he zipped through the tall trees.

Based on aim, this guy wasn’t a stellar marksman, which played to Will’s advantage. A shotgun wasn’t accurate but the bullet spray might do a lot more damage at this distance. There’d be shell pieces within a range of twenty feet this far away from the shooter. There was a reason it was called buckshot and it spread shrapnel across a decent distance.

The other advantage Will had over the shooter was knowledge of the property. No one knew this area better than a Kent and Will was no exception.

Will weaved through the trees. His speed and sheer willpower kept him a good distance from the shooter. This guy didn’t seem to be a match for Will’s athleticism and he appreciated the fact that Kelly wasn’t fighting against him. He could also thank years of sports in high school and his stint in the military for his fitness. Being used to a daily training routine had him waking up every morning at three o’clock to get in a workout before eating a protein-heavy breakfast and heading out to work an hour later.

The beauty in his arms seemed to be struggling to stay alert. With every few feet of progress, she shook her head or blinked her eyes. She muttered a couple of apologies and he assumed she meant she was sorry for him having to carry her. Although, he couldn’t be sure.

Adrenaline caused Will to run faster. The shooter might not be a great marksman but all it took was one hit for this game of chase to be over. Will knew how to handle the extra power surge that came with adrenaline and he was accustomed to managing the extra cortisol coursing through his body by measuring his breaths to keep them even.

He knew what it was like to have bullets flying past his head and seemingly no easy outs. A smile threatened to crack his lips because a part of him missed the adrenaline rushes that came with his time during combat. The other part of being away from home and coming back to the States in time for his fiancée to ditch him on their wedding day—that had been a humdinger.

Will was good at combat. Real life? Not so much.

Even though he’d grown up in a close-knit family he’d never been one to linger on emotions.

Being left at the altar when he’d believed he and his fiancée were in love showed him just how far off base he’d been. It didn’t seem to matter how many people told him to forget about her. That she wasn’t worth the trouble. He tried to tell that to the beating blob of blood and tissue in the center of his chest. Damn thing had a mind of its own.

Hell, he knew his family was right about Lacey. And normally he’d walk away and never look back. He had a weakness for the woman that defied logic. Or did it? A twinge of guilt pinched his gut. He most definitely felt protective of his ex.

That same protective instinct flared with the woman in his arms and it struck him that he was walking down a path he’d gone down before. Or, in this case, running was more like it, as he dodged another bullet that struck a tree a little too close for comfort.

Keep this up much longer and the law of probability said that even a bad shot would hit his target given enough time and opportunity.

Will needed a plan.

As far as he could tell he was dealing with a lone shooter. His own shotgun was strapped to Domino.

An old treehouse was up ahead around a hill. Maybe he could make it there.

Dodging in and out of trees was slowing his pace. Carrying Kelly was no problem after doing the same for a wounded soldier wearing sixty pounds of gear through mountainous terrain in hundred-plus temperatures.

Of course, he was older now and not nearly in the same shape. His stamina wouldn’t hold out as long. All those factors had to be considered.

Getting to Domino safely without risking a wild shot hitting his horse was risky.

Will didn’t like it, but his only option was to get Kelly out of the woods and to the medical attention she needed. The slurred speech might be caused by blood loss.

But then what? an annoying voice in the back of his mind asked.

STAY AWAKE. STAYING ALERT was Kelly’s highest priority. She hated being in this position, feeling like a victim. There was nothing worse than a feeling of helplessness, but it was taking all the strength she had inside her to stay awake and fight the darkness weighing down her thoughts.

Her mind zinged back to when she was a teenager. It had been two days since her thirteenth birthday had officially ushered her into her teen years. Kelly woke with a cramp in her side that made her double over and left her rocking back and forth in pain.

Her mother walked in after working her shift at the hair salon and gasped when she saw her daughter on the floor. Her appendix had almost burst and she’d been cramping so hard she could barely walk.

“Why didn’t you call me?” her mother had asked.

“I thought it would pass,” Kelly said weakly, in between blowing out breaths to try and manage her pain. She’d done everything she could think of in order to distract herself.

Before she could blow out her next breath, her mother was helping Kelly to her feet.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” she’d stated and Kelly had heard the panic in her mother’s voice. She had immediately known that she must have looked awful based on her mother’s expression.

After her mother had managed to get her buckled into the passenger seat of the family sedan, Kelly saw how much her mother’s hands were shaking on the wheel. It took three tries for her to get the key into the ignition. Her mother let out a few choice words, glanced her daughter’s way and apologized, before finally finding the hole and starting the engine.

Kelly must’ve been in bad shape because her mother kept repeating, “Stay with me, baby.”

Pain threatened to drag Kelly under and hold her in the current, pulling her further out to sea. Then there were tires squealing as her mother stomped on the brakes in the ER bay. The sun was out, brightening the sky, and would be for hours before plunging into the western landscape. It was an unusually hot afternoon even for August in Texas.

People rushed toward them and then Kelly was being placed on a gurney and wheeled into the hospital. She remembered the rectangles on the ceiling and the bright fluorescent lights. The sound of doors opening and closing while a male voice shouted orders.

She didn’t remember how long the nurse told her she’d been out when she woke from surgery. There was a recovery room and the strangeness of fading in and out. And then suddenly her mother was there.

It didn’t strike her as odd at first that her father was nowhere to be seen. It should have, because he was the family’s rock. Her first thought was that he’d been held up in traffic. Then she’d realized it was Sunday—Sundays were for fishing.

There shouldn’t be any traffic. But still, she reasoned that it would take time to dock the boat and load it onto the platform before driving the boat home. Would he go straight home to drop off the boat? Based on her mother’s panicked expression, Kelly thought he would rush straight to the hospital.

There was no sign of her brother, either.

And then it dawned on her that an eight-year-old most likely wouldn’t be allowed near the surgery area. Her dad was probably in the waiting room with Kellan, feeding a vending machine a few quarters to give him a snack. Her brother had been on a growth spurt and there wasn’t enough food to keep that child satisfied lately.

“Hi, baby,” her mother had said and then her chin had quivered. Her voice was shaky.

Before Kelly could respond, her mother burst into tears.

“What’s wrong?” The words finally came. Her mouth was as dry as west Texas soil in a drought, so she choked when she tried to speak.

Her mother shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

Her words were strained and a knot immediately formed in Kelly’s stomach. She thought there was something terribly wrong with her, like the doctor had found an incurable disease.

And then a few moments later, when her mom said the words that changed both of their lives forever, her father and baby brother had been killed in an accident on the way to the hospital to see her.

Kelly wished she was the one to die.

All Kelly remembered was rolling onto her side and crying herself to sleep. She didn’t want to wake up. Didn’t want to get out of bed. It was as if a heavy weight pressed down her limbs, her body. She was powerless. Helpless.

It had been the worst feeling in the world.

Another bullet pegged a tree near Kelly’s head, shocking her thoughts back to the present.

Anger roared through her. No one got to make her feel that way again.

She cringed and gripped the cowboy as tightly as she could. He was strong and fast, but not even he could run forever while carrying her.

He was zigzagging through the woods, sometimes making a turn just in the nick of time to dodge a bullet.

His fluid movements and ability to cut left or right like momentum didn’t exist reminded her of the best cutting horse she’d ever seen. Denny.

If anything happened to him she’d be to blame.

“Put me down and get out of here,” she squeaked out. Her heart couldn’t take another person dying because of her.

“What?” The cowboy was barely winded.

“No sheriff.”

She tried to form more words but darkness silenced her.