Читать книгу The Man From Falcon Ridge - Rita Herron - Страница 14

Hailey’s heart pounded as she ran down the stairs. She had to escape. Get help. The gruesome murder scene flashed into her mind again. So much blood. Raw bones exposed. Gaping slashes on the woman’s chest, scratches and stab wounds on her hands. The man was the same, his right hand nearly severed, his bloody injuries beyond ghastly.

And the child…

A sob welled in her throat. The little boy…he had died so young. It wasn’t fair….

Tears filled her eyes, grief for the family welling in her throat. What kind of crazy person could do that to another human?

She swayed, her stomach lurching, and gripped the banister in an effort to hold herself upright. The floor creaked behind her, and she skipped a step, lost her footing and fell. Shrieking, she grappled for control, but her bottom hit the corner of the step with a painful thud. Flailing, she bounced down the last two steps and fell on her hands and knees. She tasted blood and realized she’d bitten her tongue. The furnace rumbled. The floor creaked again.

She shoved herself up, and darted toward the front door. Shadows rose behind her. Her vision blurred. The dim light in the hallway flickered, then went off, cloaking the house in darkness. She screamed and jiggled the door to open it, but the knob wouldn’t turn. He’d locked her inside.

He was going to kill her.

Panicked, she yanked at the knob again, then flung open the door. Cold air nipped at her cheeks as she ran across the porch and down the steps to her car. Her palms stung as she pulled at the door. But the car was locked, and she didn’t have her keys.

No! He was going to get her.

She had to think.

The screen door screeched behind her, flapping in the wind. No. No time to think. Pivoting, she tried to decide where to go. But the screen door hit the casing with a whack, and she took off running again, this time into the bowels of the forest. Maybe she could outrun him. Lose him. Hide behind a rock or in an old mine.

Or maybe she could make it to Rex’s house, and he’d help her.

She shoved through the bramble, forcing herself not to turn around. Every second counted. Steep, jagged red rocks coated in snow and ice rose around her. Massive pines and aspens stood like giant boulders, creating a maze. She turned to the right, sprinting through layers of icy slush and dead leaves, then veered to the left, reminding herself that Rex’s house was on the northern slope only a mile away.

It seemed like hundreds, though, as she forced her rubbery legs forward. A gunshot rang out, and she shrieked, picking up her pace. Was the man firing at her?

A bullet pinged past her head, and she ducked, losing her breath. Yes, he was going to kill her. And if he buried her in the snow, no one would ever know.

THE SOUND OF a gunshot blast from the forest sent a jolt through Rex. A hunter maybe? He parked and rushed to the edge of the woods, searching the depths. He had enough damn problems without some loose cannon of a shot coming this close to his property.

His trip into town with Hailey returned to haunt him. Facing the town who’d labeled his father the Hatchet Murderer had resurrected painful memories. He didn’t want Hailey to think of him as a cold-blooded killer’s son.

Although God knows why he cared. She certainly hadn’t looked at him with interest. Just a wariness that spoke volumes about the past she was running from.

Through the trees, he glanced at the property down the hill, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He could still see the blood-soaked floor, the listless eyes, could smell the foul stench of body odors and death inside that kitchen.

Shadows and ghosts lurched all around him.

Just as he had twenty years ago, he strode deeper into the forest to purge his emotions. He had to free his father, get revenge against the person who’d butchered the Lyles and stolen his father’s life by letting him take the rap.

He couldn’t worry about Hailey and her secrets.

Inhaling the fresh cold air, the tension from his body dissipated slightly as the earthy scents and sounds of the forest engulfed him. Becoming one with the untamed wilderness, with the hawks soaring above, had become his solace. The only place he felt free, at peace.

The endless long nights of hearing his mother cry whispered from the snow-laden bellies of the aspens and fir trees. And then there were his little brothers. Deke had cloaked himself in anger and Brack had withdrawn into a shell made of human mortar that still kept him prisoner, barring anyone from getting too close. And both of them had had trouble with the law.

His father’s parting words, “Take care of your mother and brothers,” echoed in Rex’s mind.

He’d tried. But he’d failed so many times.

A squirrel scampered up a nearby pine, snow swirling from the branches in a white cloud as a gust of wind whistled through the spiny needles. Fresh blood marked the white, and he frowned, squinting at the spatters, trying to decide their origin. Human or animal? Another gunshot shattered the tranquility, bouncing off the rocks. He froze, senses honed to detect its source. He didn’t want to be mistaken for a deer or elk.

Another shot echoed from the hills and he turned, searching the distance. It was coming from the southern slope near the Hatchet House. What if Hailey decided to take a walk? It could be dangerous.

His boots crunched as he hiked toward her place. He’d have to warn her to be careful of hunters and their stray bullets.

There were other dangers for a woman living alone in the wilderness, too. Some of the men who liked to comb the hills were more predatory than the animals they hunted. They would take advantage of a woman in a second.

The scent of death floated toward him, fresh blood marking the icy path. Through the bed of trees, he spotted a buck sprawled near the creek, its tan flanks covered in blood, its once agile body deathly still. The hunter would be back to collect his kill any minute.

Trees rustled up ahead. He called out a warning, but Hailey burst through the brush, her face pale, her eyes wide in terror.

Worse, she was running straight toward the ravine.

SUDDENLY A MAN’S HANDS grabbed Hailey from behind. Panic zinged through her. She screamed and swung her arms back, struggling to free herself, but they fell to the ground in a tangle. Icy snow seeped through her clothes as she bucked upward, trying to throw his weight off of her. But his hands gripped her tightly, pinning her to the spot.

“Hailey, stop it, dammit, it’s me.”

She dug her elbows into his chest, trying to force him to loosen his grip. Instead, his fingers tightened around her wrists, pushing them into her back. The rest of his body was on top of her, his thighs rubbing hers as he lifted his head.

“Hailey, be still,” the voice growled. “It’s Rex. I was just trying to keep you from falling over the cliff.”

Hailey froze, her breath rasping out as the husky voice registered. Was Rex following her? Had he been inside her house?

No…that was impossible. She’d heard him drive away.

Rational thoughts returning, she slowly relaxed, spitting out snow. But his body was still pressed firmly on top of hers. He stiffened, and his hard sex pressed into her hip. Fear crawled up her spine, the need to escape him mounting. “You can let me go now,” she said through clenched teeth.

“All right.” His grip loosened. “But be careful. The cliff drops off to the creek about fifty yards in front of you.”

She nodded. She’d been running so fast she could have sailed over the edge. A shudder gripped her at the thought. Only the possibility of being murdered like the Lyles wasn’t any better.

Uncertain whether she’d imagined Rex’s physical reaction to her, she brushed snow and debris from her jeans, the cold seeping through the wet denim, chilling her inside and out. He helped her stand, then cradled her elbows in his hands as he turned her to face him. His breath whooshed out as he reached up and traced a finger over her lip. Uneasiness spread through her limbs. They were alone in the woods, just like she’d been with Thad. Would this man try to use force on her as her former boyfriend had? Would he turn on her in a second?

Then she realized he was wiping away blood.

His brown eyes searched her face, a frown pulling at his mouth. “What the hell were you running from?”

“S-someone was shooting at me.” She inhaled, shivering again. Beard stubble darkened his tightly held jaw, the wind ruffling the black strands of his hair and sweeping it across his forehead. He looked ominous, like a big black bear ready to tear apart anyone that stood in his way.

Then she remembered the feel of his arousal pressing into her and another feeling splintered through her—a tingle that felt like attraction.

Good heavens, no. Not now. Not to this man. Not when she was trying to put her life together. Trying to escape her past.

Remembering Thad’s control issues, she melted backward, pulling away. “Did you see him?”

“A hunter,” Rex said in a gruff voice. “He probably thought you were a deer or elk running through the forest.”

Another gunshot blasted, and she startled so badly he pulled her into his arms. “Shh, it’s all right now.”

Her breath quivered out. “No…he shot at me, he was trying to kill me.”

His black eyebrows rose, his hand automatically playing along her neck and shoulders, soothing her. “I saw a deer he killed,” Rex said. “I’m sure he mistook you for an animal.”

“But the bullet nearly hit my head, and s-someone was in the house when I went inside,” Hailey said, stiffening. “He…left a note. He threatened me.”

“What?” He pulled her closer against him, but Hailey backed away again, hands fisted, her survival instincts roaring to life.

“When I went inside,” Hailey said, struggling for a steady breath, “someone was upstairs. They left dead gardenias on the table and a picture of the Lyles’ murder…” Her voice broke as images of the carnage flooded her.

Another shot rang out, echoing in the distance. Thankfully it sounded farther away this time. Hailey’s gaze found the cliff. A vulture soared above, swooping downward in a wide arc, its black feathers stark against the aquamarine sky, its talons bared as it zeroed in on its target. Just seeing the bird reminded her all too much that if Rex hadn’t grabbed her, she might have plunged to her death below.

REX STUDIED HAILEY, his mind battling his body’s natural reaction. He’d only meant to keep her from running off the cliff, but the moment he brushed against her, his sexual instincts had stirred to life, strong and more alive than they had been in months. Hell, maybe years.

Physical arousal, he told himself. A basic human reaction, a natural animal one. But this time his senses had become skewed with the need to fold her in his arms and hold her for the night, to protect her and make promises that he couldn’t keep.

But these urges went against the free man he needed to be. Free like the falcons…

Some birds of prey are monogamous, a voice whispered.

But not him. He had no room for a woman in his life. Especially this troubled one.

Had someone really been in her house threatening her? Maybe it had been a prank…

“There was a note, too,” Hailey whispered.

The wind swirled the strands of her reddish-brown hair around her face. Her cheeks were red from exertion and cold, her lips parched from the sun and wind. She looked so damn beautiful another twinge of desire spurted through him.

“And they tacked pictures of the Lyle family’s murder on the wall,” she said, knotting her hands together. “It was awful.”

He nodded. He’d seen the photos, had imprinted them in his brain since he was a kid.

“Come on.” He coaxed her forward, back through the thick pines and aspens, up the rocky hills toward Falcon Ridge. “You’re freezing, we need to get you inside.”

She stiffened. “Where are we going?”

“To my place.” He grabbed her arm again and hauled her close to him, lowering his voice. “If that hunter returns, we don’t want to be here.”

“But…”

“You’re not going back to the Hatchet House alone,” he growled. “I’ll go with you and check it out, but I need my gun.”

“You have a gun?”

He nodded, wondering at the streak of fear that darted into her eyes. “It’s for protection. You should get one, too.”

Her breath glowed white in the air as she nodded and stumbled forward, trying to keep up with him. He slowed his pace to accommodate her, pushing the loose branches and bramble out of the way so they wouldn’t scratch her delicate face as they threaded their way back up the mountain.

He’d never brought a woman to Falcon Ridge before, never shown one his home. He wondered what she’d think of it.

A few minutes later, they stepped onto the portico of the stone structure, and he opened the massive front door and ushered her inside. She was trembling, the temperature outside having dropped ten degrees in the last hour. The frightening ordeal had obviously drained her, because her shoulders were beginning to slump, and her flushed face paled with exhaustion.

“Come on, let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll fix you something hot to drink.”

She scanned the inside of the foyer, the ten-foot ceilings and dusty old paintings. He tried to see the monastery-type house through her eyes. His mother had hated the desolate location, had claimed the stone walls and dark paneled interior shrouded any light and warmth that might filter through the mass of trees surrounding the five-thousand-foot structure. He opened his mouth to explain that his parents had inherited the place, but he refrained, avoiding the subject of his family.

He reached for her arm to guide her to the kitchen’s woodstove, but she squared her shoulders and resisted.

“I’m not going to attack you,” he said, irritated that she was afraid of him. She’d felt his erection, knew he wanted her.

The realization put him on the defensive. He didn’t like this craving that happened when he was around her. And he especially didn’t like the fact that she didn’t reciprocate the feeling.

Was she afraid of all men or just him?

Had another man taken advantage of her?

He swallowed hard, the mere idea making his blood run hot. But he realized it was true. The bruises on her cheek and neck the first time he’d seen her had come from a man’s hands.

A man she had probably trusted.

HAILEY DIDN’T TRUST THIS MAN, although she had no idea why. He had saved her life. If he’d wanted to kill her or hurt her, he could have done so by now.

But he hadn’t. He’d offered to help her renovate her house. He’d escorted her into town. And now he’d rescued her from an attacker, and saved her from plunging over a cliff.

Who had been in the house? Thad maybe? Or someone who didn’t want her living in the Lyle house?

Rex moved through the doorway, obviously giving her space. Keeping her distance, she followed. The finely woven, handmade dream catchers dangling in the window seemed at odds with the masculine stone structure.

“Coffee, hot chocolate or tea?” he asked once they were in the rustic kitchen. Copper pots hung above a center work island, the stove encased in a brick arch. Natural light bled through a bay window that overlooked the woods and mountains above, looking majestic and giving the room an airier feel than the foyer. A small garden area surrounded a terrace, and beyond it, she noticed several large birdcages. She counted three that were empty. The fourth one was draped in a cloth.

“Hailey?”

She tensed, her mind in a tailspin, distrusting everything. “Whatever you’re making.”

He reached for the coffeepot, filled it with water and added coffee, then pressed the on button. The slow drip splintered the awkward silence.

“You can heat your hands by the woodstove.” He retrieved two thick ceramic mugs from the cabinet, found the sugar and cream set and put it on the scarred plank table.

She moved slowly to the stove, thrusting her hands above the steel frame, relief echoing in her sigh as heat drew the sting from her numb fingers. He filled the mugs, then gestured toward the sugar. She nodded.

He added sugar, then handed her the cup, their fingers brushing. His hot look unnerved her, enticed her to forget the reasons she needed to keep her distance. For once, she ached to bury herself in a man’s arms and let him take care of her.

“I like the dream catchers,” Hailey said. “Did you get them around here?”

“My mother collects them,” Rex said. “She thinks they bring good luck and ward off bad dreams.”

Hailey gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I understand. Bad dreams, sometimes they seem so real.”

“Want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. Her dreams were her own demons. “What are the cages for?”

He glanced out the window, then turned to her, his expression wary. “I rescue injured birds of prey. My brothers and I train them.”

“You release them back into the wild?”

He nodded. “When we can.”

She relaxed slightly. Any man who rescued injured animals had to be more human than Thad. Then again, she’d been wrong before.

“Maybe I should call the police about the threat?” he suggested.

She immediately stiffened, her fleeting moment of safety shattered. Thad had power, influential friends. “No.”

His black eyebrow shot up. “You don’t want to report an intruder and the threatening note?”

She shook her head. “No, not yet.” She sipped the coffee, grateful he’d made it strong. “What if it was just a prank? Maybe kids…”

Although her gut instincts whispered that the threat had been real.

Someone had snuck into her house while she was gone and planted the picture to frighten her off. Someone who’d chased her into the woods and wanted her out of the Lyle house.

What would he do if she didn’t heed his warning?