Playing For Keeps (Montana Men) (38 page)

* * * *

Sixty-two hours after the assassination…

Flayme
sat on the edge of the king-sized bed admiring Duel’s firm ass covered in denim
as he pulled a long-sleeved red and black flannel shirt off a hangar. “I’m no
expert, but I think I handled the bow well enough.”

Duel
looked up from fastening the row of metal buttons on his jeans and grinned.
“You did fine, sweetheart.” He’d spent an hour teaching her the rudimentary of
using the crossbow, how to line up the target through the scope and murder the
red dot. After she killed it five times in a row, he was satisfied she had a
steady hand. “If you stay calm, you can bring down anything,” he said, “and
it’s quiet. Stealth is the best defense and won’t give away your hiding place.
Always keep a clear head. It might mean the difference between living and
dying.”

After
that, they returned to the cabin, shared a tuna salad, and were now preparing
to leave. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“Across
the way, about fifteen miles or so. I left my cell phone charger in the car
when we switched vehicles. My battery’s dead, and don’t make any smartass
remarks like last time. You’re much too distracting.”

She
laughed. “Am I?”

“I
can’t concentrate when I’m inside you,” he said, raking her with a heated look.

“Oh?”

“Don’t
look at me like that. You know what I mean. I need to buy a charger and contact
Sam. She must be freaking out at my lack of communication.”

“Okay.
So how are we going? There’s so much snow. The SUV
—
”

“Trust me. We aren’t taking the SUV. You’re going to need
warmer clothes. My sister left some things in the hall closet last time she was
here.” He eyed her. “She has a habit of leaving a few things behind wherever
she goes, says she never knows when there might be an emergency. They might be
a little loose, but they’re what you need. Put them on over your clothes.”

She
headed to the hall.

“See
if she left some boots, too,” Duel called. “Those shoes you’re wearing… not
good. You can borrow a pair of my socks if you need them.”

Flayme
found a one piece, lipstick red ski suit, black fur-lined boots, a hot pink
knitted hat, white mittens and dark glasses to protect her eyes against the
snow glare. Well, she’d be colorful if nothing else.

By
the time she added the extra layer of clothing and accessories, Duel was
waiting at the front door. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her
close. “You steal my breath away,” he moaned, rubbing his mouth against hers.

“I’m
loud,” she said, eyeing the snow suit with humor.

“You
look perfect. Ever rode a snowmobile?”

“Are
you kidding? You’re the only powerful thing I’ve had between my thighs,” she
teased.

He
grabbed her hand, laughing. “Come on, you’ll like this, too.”

* * * *

Flayme
thought the town of Spring Pass probably lived up to its name. Small, isolated
and surrounded by the Rockies and more snow covered passes than one person
could count, she wondered if maybe she and Duel were trapped for the winter.

He
assured her they weren’t, but she had her doubts.

“I wanted a place without easy access roads,” he informed
her, eyeing the different chargers for cell phones in the little shop they’d
found.

Enchanting
though Spring Pass was, she figured they were damn lucky there was a cell phone
store in the little burg. Actually, once Duel located the charger he needed,
then took the time to show her around the frontier town, it was bigger than
she’d first thought.

The
town sported a bank, a family-owned restaurant where he took her for the best
hot cocoa she’d ever tasted, along with a burger and fries she devoured because
the mountain air stirred her appetite. The sites included a Laundromat, a
motel, a tiny ski lodge complete with a ski lift rising to a cleared slope, a
supermarket, and a pizza place. The single street through the town was crawling
with people, but Duel assured her it was locals. The town was too out of the
way for most tourists, and too small.

She
thought she caught a glimpse of an old-fashioned looking theatre, but Duel was
pointing out historic landmarks and the theatre lost her attention. Three hours
rushed past in a blur.

“It’s
four o’clock,” Duel said, guiding her toward the red and blue snowmobile.
“Another hour or so and it’ll be dark. We better head back.”

Flayme
wanted to argue. She wasn’t tired of being a
tourist
yet, but he warned a front was moving in. “More snow?” she
asked, scrunching her nose.

He
shrugged. “It’s Colorado. In the higher elevations, it snows year round. We’re
high. Come on. We can share the sauna when we get back. I’ll nibble on your
body and teach you a thing or two about the many uses of fruit and riding a
horny stallion.”

“More
lessons?” she teased.

He leaned down and kissed her. “I love you,” he said, his
voice and expression tender. “I didn’t know I could love this way.”

He sounded so serious. She took a moment to study him.
This was her man and he was making certain she understood he belonged to her.
Flayme wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his. “I
love you, too. Take me home, cowboy, and make wild, passionate love to me.”

He half lifted her onto the snowmobile and settled in
front of her. Starting the engine, Duel patted her hands at his waist. “Hold on,
baby.”

The wind stung her face and whipped the strands of hair
poking out from beneath the knitted hat. Flayme pressed her face against his
back to stay warm. Everything smelled crisp and clean, the mountains, the
trees, the snow. She could taste the coming snow in the air. In the distance,
charcoal-gray clouds churned over the mountain peaks, rolling toward the basin.
She figured they’d barely beat the blizzard home.

Home.

The word felt right. Home in the future was with this man.
She didn’t care where they lived, as long as this cowboy was by her side. They
were nearly to the cabin when Duel pulled over to one side and killed the
motor.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I wanna show you something.” He helped her off the
snowmobile, grabbed the rifle he’d brought with them, and guided her to a small
ridge a few feet away. Handing her the firearm, he pointed. “Look through the
scope straight ahead through that ridge of trees and a little to the right,
about three hundred yards.”

Flayme did as he said and gasped.
“Ooh!”
A dozen or so elk moved across the valley floor in search of
food. “Aww, poor things. They’re hungry.”

“They’ll dig through the snow for dead grass,” he assured
her.

“How did you know they were there?”

“They graze there off and on all year round. See that big
bull? He must weigh a good nine hundred pounds. He’s getting on in years now,
but I’ve always thought he was majestic.”

“Yeah.” Flayme lowered the scope and eyed him. “I know the
feeling.”

Duel glanced away. “There’s nothing majestic about me. The
job I do assures that.”

She cupped his chin and turned him to face her. “Because
of what you do, everyone can sleep at night. In my opinion, that makes you
pretty special.”

“Thanks.”

“What’s that?” Flayme lowered the rifle at the noisy sound
suddenly circling above them.

“Chopper coming in low,” Duel replied, looking up.
“Shit!
Get down! Down!” He shoved her to
the snow-covered ground, dropping quickly to splay his body over hers. Duel
rolled with her, stopping at the edge of a tangle of dead undergrowth. A spray
of bullets peppered the ground around them barely missing them. “In the trees,
quick,” he ordered, helping her to her feet.
“Run!”

Flayme wondered why they just didn’t run back to the
snowmobile then realized the chopper was between them and it. Bullets rained
around them like hail falling from the sky. They slapped the nearby trees,
sending shards of bark flying through the air, tearing up the snow and finally,
hitting the snowmobile.

Boom!

Screaming,
she stumbled
and fell forward on her hands and knees, knocked to the ground from the
repercussion. The loud explosion of the snowmobile sent pieces of hot metal and
motor parts flying through the air.

“Fuck!”
Duel
helped her up, latched onto her hand and took off through the woods, but the
chopper dipped, skimming the treetops and followed them. The sniper sent one
last volley of bullets before the pilot lifted the aircraft higher and flew
away in the opposite direction. Duel halted and glared at the disappearing
aircraft. “Sonofabitch,” he muttered, pulling her close. “You okay? You aren’t
hit?”

“No. No. I’m fine.” Flayme shivered. “Do you think
—
”

“Yeah. I don’t know how the hell they found us so quick.”
He snatched up the rifle from where she’d tossed it aside. Duel took a minute
to unzip the top of his ski suit. “Thank God it’s still in one piece.”

Flayme edged closer. “The charger?”

“Yeah. Good thing I tucked it in there before we left for
the cabin.” He zipped his top and took her hand. “Come on,” he said and headed
through the trees.

“Where we going?” Flayme glanced around. Snow had started
to fall around them.

Duel hesitated. “Hunting.” He headed in the direction
they’d spotted the elk.

“But…isn’t the cabin that way?” Flayme pointed to her
right.

“Yes, but we can’t make it to the cabin, not before the
blizzard hits. We need shelter for the night.”

“The
night?”
Flayme felt the icy chill already lacing her blood. She had a feeling things
were going to get much worse before they ever got better—
if
they ever got better.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Courage—the most important of all the
virtues because without courage, you can’t practice any other virtue
consistently.

~Maya Angelou

Montana

Blackstone Ranch

February 19, Thursday

Sixty-five hours after the assassination…

Lacey McCord didn’t like Karen Blackstone, not just because
she’d destroyed her marriage with Danger, but because there was something
genuinely frightening about the woman.
The
look in her cold eyes reminded her of a rabid animal, not quite sane and a
hundred percent deadly.

Therefore, she wondered why the hell she’d accepted the
woman’s invitation to visit the ranch. She sighed. She must be a glutton for
punishment. It was the only logical explanation.

Karen stood beside her at Joseph’s gravesite, and though
Lacey realized the woman wasn’t responsible for her son’s death, she felt her
resentment building by the second. She should get Rafe and leave. This had been
a bad, bad idea to try to be civil to someone who wasn’t civilized.

And—there was Danger. The effect he was having on her, she felt
as if her body was suddenly coming out of deep freeze, thawing from the sexual
heat from within every time she was within a foot of him.

Ever since this morning when he carried her from the kitchen
to the living room, a raw hunger had set in between her thighs, a steady heat,
warm and mushy, that refused to go away. It left her with the knowledge that
he’d somehow made her want him again. She sighed. If she was honest, she’d
never stopped wanting him. He’d stopped wanting her.

She’d had to wear a thicker sweater to keep anyone from
noticing the way her nipples rose to attention when he was near her. What was
wrong with her? This was so not good.

One—she was committed to Rafe. She was married to him for
God’s sake, possibly pregnant. There was no going back.

Two—Danger didn’t love her. He’d made that clear months ago.
He’d killed every feeling she ever had for him. So how could she suddenly want
him…unless those feelings had never really died? Had she simply buried them,
unable to face the pain of losing him? Losing his love? God, now she didn’t
know what to think, how to feel, or what to do.

She looked around feeling bewildered and bombarded by doubt.
All she wanted was to escape, get out of here, and get off Blackstone property.
But Danger and Rafe had gone on to the barn, leaving her alone with Karen. If
she took the cowardly way out now, since she’d given Rafe the nod to go ahead,
she’d look like an idiot. She was the one who’d insisted he couldn’t spend the
rest of his or her life shielding her from the ugliness of the world. At some
point, she had to learn to stand on her own again. Today was a good day to
begin.

Karen rubbed her distended belly, smiling. “Did Danger tell
you we’re hoping for a boy? You know…to replace the one you and he had you let
get killed. I’ll be sure and protect my baby. He totally blames you, you know,
for little Joseph’s death. He thinks you should have been willing to die to
save his son.”

Inside, Lacey felt as if she’d been sucker punched. She
hadn’t seen that one coming. “No, he didn’t tell me any of that.” Her heart
twisted in agony. Outside, she remained calm. “I hope you two get your wish. I
hope you have a boy.” Lacey turned to head to the barn.
Feelings
for Danger? Huh! She must be insane. She wanted Rafe. She
needed to be by his side, to feel his strength around her, and if that made her
a coward and a weakling, then so be it. She couldn’t talk about Joseph’s death
to this woman. She
wouldn’t
discuss
her son with Karen.

Karen snatched her arm, jerking her
around. “Are you pregnant yet? I understand you’re having a difficult time
conceiving.”

There was something sly and taunting in the woman’s words.

“I don’t see where it’s any of your business.” Lacey tugged
on her arm. “Let go of me.”

“Danger and I…we only had to do
it
once, and
bam,
I was pregnant. He’s quite the stud, isn’t he? Of course, we
did it dozens of times while you were away on your little trips snapping
pictures. He was so hot for me I was bound to get pregnant.” The woman’s
fingers bit painfully into her forearm. “He wanted a baby with me very much.”

“I said let go of my arm.” Lacey felt her panic rising. She
had to get away from this woman.

“I think you are,” Karen said, ignoring her.

“What?” Lacey frowned.

“Pregnant. I think you got a baby in you. A woman has a
certain look when she’s knocked up. You have that look. Better be careful,
Lacey, that Smitt Davis doesn’t rip this one out of your belly, too.”

Lacey swayed. “Shut up! Let go of me and shut up. Why are you
saying such things to me? Why are you being so cruel? I’ve never done anything
to you.” She tore free of Karen’s firm grip and stormed toward the barn.
Tangling with Karen wasn’t her idea of fun. She wanted to go. Now! Coming here
was stupid. She shouldn’t have let Danger sway her into returning to Montana.
He’d destroyed her once. Obviously he was determined to do so again.

She couldn’t go through that again.

She’d never survive.

Lacey suddenly felt crowded. Panic swept over her leaving her
shaken. If she wasn’t careful, he’d destroy what she had with Rafe. God, she’d
almost fallen for his hot gaze and whispered yearnings again. She’d almost let
him come between her and Rafe.

She pushed open the barn door and rushed
inside, determined to get Rafe and leave. But once inside, the air felt thick
and suffocating. Deathly quiet waited like something dark and evil. It sent the
first prickles of foreboding down her spine. “Oh, God, no,” she whispered.

She felt
his
presence. How she knew Smitt Davis was close by, she had no
clue, but she knew it. Her heart tripped. Her skin crawled. He was here!

Stumbling to a halt, she froze. The horses stood utterly
still in their stalls, like the deathly quiet, they waited. She blinked, trying
to adjust to the surrounding dimness of her vision from coming in from the
glaring snow to a darker interior.

“Come on in, Lacey darling, I’ve been waiting for you.” The
creepy voice slid over her, shaking her to her soul. He stepped out of the
shadows and her heart leapt to her throat. “Welcome to hell. I thought you’d
never get here.” He leveled a gun at her. Her blood turned to ice. “I think
this time I’ll make damn certain you’re dead.”

“No,” she sobbed. “It can’t be.” Lacey looked around,
desperate to locate her husband, but it was Danger’s gray eyes she saw first.
His silent apology. Regret. Love? Surely in her terror-filled moment she
misread his feelings for her again? But no, she hadn’t misconstrued anything.
She knew he’d die for her, but she refused to let that happen.

He stood to one side, a gag in his mouth, his arms bound behind
him. He struggled to get free, but it was obvious the rope around his wrists
was strong and unyielding. Blood streamed down one side of his face. She looked
away, searching for the man she loved, the one she’d given her heart to at
Christmas, the one who’d been there for her when she’d been all alone in that
well dying, the one who’d sat at her bedside and held her hand when she was in
the hospital. Rafe.

She located him seated on the floor. Rope was wrapped tight
around his chest securing him to a support beam. His hands were firmly fixed
behind his back. A dirty rag filled his mouth, too. His eyes glittered, a
fierce blue. They burned like fire, but were steady and silently telling her he
was there for her, reliable as always.

Lacey looked around for a way to defend herself, but saw
nothing but bales of hay to her left, feed barrels standing at each stall,
every horse with their own special feed mix, reins, bits, and saddles. If she
could distract Smitt, maybe she could escape, get help, or have Karen call the
sheriff’s department, something!

Backing up another step, she bumped into
something solid behind her. Before she could turn to run, Karen’s arm shot
around her neck in a tight stranglehold. “Going somewhere, bitch?”

“What? What are you doing?” Lacey choked. “Let me go. We have
to run!”

“You think you’re so smart, coming here all hotsy-totsy,
better than me. The laugh’s on you, bitch. My husband and me, yeah, we’re gonna
have some fun.”

Lacey glanced toward Danger. “You and Danger planned this? I
think he forgot his part, else, why’s his hands tied behind his back?”

“Not
him.”
Karen
snarled and pulled her hair.

Lacey winced at the pain to her scalp.

“Danger isn’t my man. Smitt’s my husband.
I can’t be married to the sheriff, not when you’re still his woman.”

“No,” Lacey denied. “Turn me loose. You
have no reason to be jealous of Danger and me. He loves you…an–and I’m married
to Rafe. We love each other.”

Karen snickered. “Stupid bitch, you just
don’t get it, do you? You aren’t married to Rafe,” she said smugly. “You’re
still Danger’s wife.”

Lacey swayed. “You’re insane. I’m
Rafe’s wife. We
—
”

“You’re wrong,” Karen screamed. “Tell her
she’s wrong, Smitty. She’s trying to ruin our little party by not playing the
game. She’s confusing me. Make her admit she’s wrong.”

“It’s true.” Smitt laughed, hurrying
toward them. “You’ve never been the Texan’s wife. We fixed you, Lacey darling.
Me and my sweet wife, we did a fine job mucking everything up, fucking up your
life, all three of you. You ruined things for us, so we got even, and now it’s
time to finish the game.”

Even though her body felt numb and her
heart raced, Lacey ordered herself to remain calm. To think. If he reached her,
she’d die. There wouldn’t be a second chance with Rafe, a chance to build a
life with him. No children. Smitt Davis was black to his soul, but he wasn’t
winning, not this time. He wasn’t taking everything from her again.

Once she made up her mind, Lacey moved
quickly. She slammed the back of her head against Karen’s face, striking the woman’s
nose with a powerful blow. The soft crunch of bone blended with her agonized
scream.

Lacey slipped free of her hold and raced
toward a pitchfork leaning against the hay bales. As a weapon, it wasn’t much,
but it was better than nothing, and more than she’d had before. She grabbed it
and whirled to face Smitt who was staring at her, stunned.

“You gonna fight me, girly? Good. Good. I
like a good fight. It makes my dick hard.”

Lacey jabbed at him, but he jumped
back. She dared a quick glance at Karen, but the woman was on her knees,
cupping her nose and rocking back and forth moaning
—
so much for the bitch from hell. Lacey
hoped she’d managed to break her nose in a dozen
places with that head
slam.

Smitt growled and rushed her, lunging
toward her in a reckless move. She jabbed him in the face with the prongs of
the pitchfork. This time when he squealed like a stuck pig, it wasn’t because
he was jacking off on her.

He staggered back, but regained his
footing. Blood spilled down his face from two puncture wounds. “I’m gonna kill,
you, girlie. I’m gonna kill you and sit your rotting corpse at my table.”

Lacey stared at the black hole of the
pistol he held in his hands. She couldn’t fight a bullet with the pitchfork.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Danger move. He kicked, catching Smitt’s
wrist. The gun sailed through the air landing at her feet like a gift from the
gods.

Scrambling, she grabbed the revolver and
leveled it on Smitt. He didn’t see her. He’d turned his attention on Danger.
Charging toward him, Smitt bellowed like a wounded bull. Lacey didn’t hesitate.
She squeezed the trigger. The bullet pierced the back of Smitt’s left shoulder
spinning him to face her.

“That’s for my baby, you bastard.”

The second bullet struck him high in the
chest.

“That’s for me and all the women you’ve
tortured and killed, you sick fuck,” she yelled.

He dropped to the floor on his knees
whimpering.

The third bullet pierced his heart and he
toppled on the hay-strewn floor.

“That’s for my son, Joseph, and Anna.”
She broke then, sobbing. Her hands shook. “Rot in hell!” Lacey wiped the tears
from her eyes with the back of her hand, but they wouldn’t stop. The dam had
burst inside her. She couldn’t stop. Her lungs felt as if they were going to
explode. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Was it over? Was it truly,
finally over? Tears streamed down her face as she stared into Smitt’s cold,
dead eyes, frozen in death as they’d been in life.

Lacey glanced toward Karen, but the woman
hadn’t moved, and she wondered if she’d even taken in everything that had just
happened. “Don’t move,” she warned, as Karen attempted to rise to her feet. “I
swear to God I’ll put a bullet through your empty head if you move an inch.”

Karen nodded and glanced toward Smitt’s
body. “We had such big plans. We were going to honor you, your bravery, by
sitting you at our table. You don’t play fair. You don’t follow the rules.
Smitt won’t like that.”

“Excuse me if I skip all the fun.” Lacey
whirled and went to free Rafe. She untied his hands, then uncoiled the rope
from around his chest. He looked grim, his face dark with a frown. She jerked
the gag from his mouth and kissed him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “By God, you were
heroic.” Cautiously, he took the gun from her. “I don’t think you have any further
need for it,” he said gently. “I’m so sorry you were the one who…”

“No. I needed to be the one. I owed him.”