Authors: Lauren Smith
A small crowd was gathered around the ring, cheering as the man on the bull held on for dear life. Then the bull got the upper hand and tossed the rider as if he weighed nothing at all. He hit the sand, rolled and dove under the paddock’s lowest bar and out of immediate danger. Observers pulled the man to his feet and he pumped his fist into the air.
Fenn recognized the man, and it riled him to see the rider strutting about like he’d done something impressive. Which, of course, he hadn’t. Never won a single title.
“Show off,” Fenn growled and stalked over to the bar.
Kyle Matthers was a real prick. He couldn’t ride worth shit in any real rodeos, but he made quite a stir in the bar when he rode for tourists. Buckle bunnies that struck out with real riders always found their way between Kyle’s sheets.
“Smith!” Harper, one of Fenn’s friends from high school who was now the bartender, waved him over.
Wes stayed close, eyes wide as he took it all in. Fenn took no small amount of pleasure shocking the East Coaster with the bar’s unique atmosphere.
“Harper.” Fenn shook the man’s hand. “This is my friend Wes.” The word “friend” rolled off his tongue so much easier now, and saying it filled him with hope. He had feared that emotion for years. But now…there was reason to hope, reason to believe.
“Nice to meet you.” Harper nodded at Wes then pulled out two pint glasses. He filled them with lager and cider, and then picked up a bottle of cherry flavoring.
Wes watched the barkeep suspiciously and Fenn almost laughed. With a flick of his wrist Harper drizzled the cherry liquid over the top of the golden liquid. The bright splash of crimson slowly penetrated the amber drink like poison stealing through a man’s veins.
“It’s called a snakebite. Light, but good.” Harper explained.
“Of course it is,” Wes snorted and reached for his glass. “Why am I even surprised at the things you people do here?”
Harper raised his brows, and Fenn grinned as he took a long drink.
“Easy there, East Coast. We outnumber you.”
His friend cocked a brow. “What’s that saying about a pot and a kettle? I seem to recall you being born in the same city as me.”
Fenn continued to smile. “Maybe, but I’ve gone native here. That’s my advantage. So what do you think?” He gestured to the drink.
“Not bad, not bad at all.”
They drank in amiable silence for a few minutes, both watching the inhabitants of the bar before Wes spoke.
“Our first meeting aside, I’m glad I found you.” The words were barely audible above the bar noises, but Fenn heard him.
His gut clenched as though a pair of invisible hands were twisting them inside.
“I’m sorry for punching your lights out. I didn’t know Hayden was your sister.” He buried his face in his glass, drinking and avoiding the other man’s gaze for a minute.
“I overreacted. It’s not like she hasn’t gotten into trouble before. Hell, she attracts it. I really shouldn’t be surprised. Do you know the funny part of all of this?” Wes asked.
When Fenn waited, he continued. “She isn’t even supposed to be here. She wasn’t even supposed to know we found you.”
“Then how did she find out?”
“Apparently she’s had my phone bugged for months. Could see every phone call, every text. When she heard that we’d found you, she called our airport and booked our family’s private jet out here before I could do it. She stole the plane right out from under me. I had to fly out here in business class on a commercial flight.”
The image of Hayden, sneaking onto a plane wearing a trench coat and dark sunglasses as she attempted to travel incognito made Fenn laugh.
“That sounds like her, from what I can tell.”
“She’s definitely a handful,” Wes agreed, then turned solemn. “Fenn, I know that the two of you are…for lack of a better word, getting cozy. I’m not here to threaten you or tell you to stay away. But you need to understand something about her. She’s smart, really smart, one of the most astute businesswomen you’ll ever meet. She’s got an MBA and has every intention of making a life for herself. She’s not a pampered, insipid girl born to marry a wealthy man from our parents’ circles. They want that future for her, but it’s not her destiny. Any man who decides to be with her needs to know that he better not use her soft heart and natural passion to trap her or clip her wings.”
Fenn swirled his pint glass, absorbing all of this information. The couples on the dance floor were laughing as a two-step tune started up. God, he wanted to do that with Hayden, share a dance with her, watch her laugh and be free. What could he offer her? A trailer on a struggling ranch that wasn’t his? She deserved better, not anything he might try to give her.
“I would never hurt her. She’s one of the most vibrant, alive women I’ve ever met. I would never want to make her unhappy.” It was a vow carved deep into his heart, never to be broken.
Wes tipped his glass back and finished his drink. “Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.” He and Fenn both faced the bar again and handed Harper their empty glasses.
“Well, well,” a voice drawled sarcastically from behind them.
Fenn’s hackles rose. Kyle Matthers. He glanced into the long horizontal mirror behind the bar and saw Kyle, dusty and sweating, grinning like a jackal. The man had a face made for punching.
“Didn’t think you’d show up here after the rodeo. Tabasco sure handed you your ass, didn’t he?” Kyle slapped Fenn on the back hard enough that it stung.
I really shouldn’t punch the shit out of him, I really shouldn’t…
N
o matter how much Fenn told himself he shouldn’t punch Kyle, he couldn’t quite stop himself from wanting to. He clenched his fists and focused on controlling his breathing. Wes was calm beside him, but his hands had folded into white-knuckled fists, too.
“Fuck off, Matthers. You can’t even qualify for the junior division.”
Kyle’s eyes bugged out of his head, and Fenn saw the man’s attack coming by using the reflection in the mirror. He ducked to the left just as Kyle’s punch soared through the air.
A swing and a miss.
The voice in his head was a little boy’s: Emery’s, from years ago. For some reason, the faint, golden-tinged memory made him smile.
“Just another day for you, huh?” Wes grunted out as he swung his own fist at Kyle and joined in the fray.
Friends
. They’d been close once, and they would be close again, Fenn knew it deep in his bones.
“Life’s not interesting if you don’t get into a fight at least once a day.” Fenn grunted as he took a blow to the stomach from one of Kyle’s cronies.
Harper shouted for everyone to stop, but glasses were broken and couples fled the dance floor as the small tussle turned into an all-out fight between several men.
Someone kicked Wes from behind, and Fenn watched helplessly as his friend crashed into a pool table.
“Wes!” Fenn punched someone out of his way, his knuckles aching as he tried to reach the pool table. Suddenly Wes grabbed up a pool cue and reared up from his prone position.
Crack!
The cue snapped as Wes broke it over a man’s back, sending the man to the floor.
Fenn was so distracted he didn’t stand a chance when two pairs of arms locked around his shoulders, hauling him backward.
“Let go!” he barked, but the two men holding him only tightened their grip. Kyle started toward them.
“Hold him,” Kyle ordered.
“Three against one? Great odds, you bastard!” Fenn spat.
“You always thought you were better than me. Looks like you aren’t.” Kyle sneered and moved in for a blow that would surely render Fenn unconscious. Fenn tucked up his legs and kicked out, hitting Kyle square in the chest. With a low grunt, Kyle staggered back and doubled over, wheezing.
Several other riders from the rodeo circuit recognized Fenn and dove into the fight, hauling away the two gorillas that held him.
“Somebody throw Kyle’s ass outside,” Harper demanded. Shouts of agreement followed as Kyle and his cohorts were dragged away.
Wes was leaning back against the pool table, wiping blood from his mouth and holding one hand protectively over his ribs. The devil was grinning. So the uptight East Coaster liked a good rumble.
He and Wes shared smiles. There was nothing like a good fistfight when you and your friend were on the same side.
As he poured two more pints of beer, Harper offered, “You two want ice?”
“Thanks.” They took their glasses, and then two clear plastic bags of ice.
Fenn and Wes drank in silence for a while, before bidding good night to Harper and the other riders who’d helped them in the fight.
“You okay to drive?” Fenn asked.
“Yeah, I’ll drive.”
Thank God. He was really starting to hate driving. All he wanted was to go home and make sure Hayden was safe. He’d worked her hard today, and she’d held up like a real Amazon warrior, blisters and all. She’d worked on the fence posts without protest for hours. It had taken him a lot longer to get used to that amount of work when he’d first started helping Jim out on the ranch. Hayden had definitely earned a fair amount of kisses, and he wanted to make sure he gave them to her. Hell, he wanted to give her a lot more than that, and he would too, just as soon as he saw that she was safe.
* * *
“Did someone leave the barn lights on?” Hayden peered through the little red curtains that framed the window above the kitchen sink. Because the kitchen lights were on she saw her own ghostly reflection peering back at her, but just beyond that a golden glow coming from the barn shone through the blackness.
“I must have forgotten to turn them off.” Callie joined her at the sink and slipped a few plates into the soapy water.
“I’ll go turn them off.” Hayden had been dying to take a peek at the barn and the horses, and this was a great excuse. “Where’s the switch?” She rubbed a towel over her hands and stepped back from the sink so Callie could switch places with her.
“Thanks. The switch is by the tack room door, just inside the front entrance to the barn. You should take Coda with you in case you run into coyotes.” Callie nodded at the husky. She was sitting by the two women, but her eyes were locked on the plates sitting on the counter with remnants of leftover pizza on them. Coda inched forward, nose twitching, and her head tilted slightly.
“Coyotes?” Hayden didn’t like the sound of that…
“Coda’s half-wolf. Normally lone dogs are easy targets for coyotes, but something about Coda’s wolf side seems to keep them away if they smell her.” Callie smiled reassuringly. “Coda will protect you, won’t you girl?” She leaned over and ruffled the dog’s white and gray fur.
Hayden snorted. “Coda and I don’t exactly get along. I think she hates me, or at the least she is condescending.” Although, she had to admit they’d bonded over the fence mending.
Callie giggled. “Can dogs be condescending?”
“She definitely is.”
“Oh…” Callie’s eyes twinkled with understanding. “She isn’t used to sharing Fenn. He raised her from an eight-week-old pup. She sees him as her alpha.”
Hayden studied Coda with begrudging admiration.
“He saved her from being killed. Her mother was a town stray who got pregnant by a wolf. Most people are afraid to raise part-wolf pups because they worry the animals can be violent. The other pups in Coda’s litter were put down by the pound, but Fenn happened to be there donating some old blankets, and he heard they were putting the pups down. He rescued Coda and adopted her. He brought her home and kept her. She wasn’t more than a ball of white fur and blue eyes.” Callie knelt down by the dog and wrapped her arms around Coda’s neck, hugging her. The husky-wolf mix nuzzled Callie’s face and licked her ear.
“See? You just keep at it. Don’t let her shut you out. Demand your place in his pack and she’ll have to respect you.”
His pack?
Callie meant Fenn. The idea was a little amusing, but Hayden considered it seriously, too. How much did she want to be a part of his life? Her gut reaction made her go still. All of her wanted to be a part of his life. There was no part of her that wanted to be anywhere else. Spending just a few days on the Broken Spur had given her a sense of peace. Life here was so different from home. Better. She could breathe and be herself, especially the part of her that liked to be restrained and dominated by a lover in bed.
Callie patted Coda’s head. “Be a good girl and go with Hayden.” As if the dog understood her instructions, she trotted over to Hayden, ears pricked and eyes focused.
“You might want to take this,” Callie said as she handed Hayden a small handgun she’d retrieved from a drawer. “Just in case. I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel entirely safe after everything that’s happened. There’s still someone out there looking for Fenn.”
“Good point.” Hayden took the gun, made sure the safety was on and started toward the back door. She was never happier than now that Wes had insisted she take a shooting class at a local gun range. She’d thought him paranoid, but now…the gun made her feel safe.
“Are you sure you don’t want Dad to go instead?” Callie suggested, a little more serious. “Maybe he should…”
Hayden looked over her shoulder at the other woman. “It will be fine. I’ve got a gun and a dog. Just keep an eye on me through the window, okay?”
“Sure.” Callie rubbed her hands on the dishtowel and took a position at the window, turning off the kitchen lights so she had a better view of the yard leading to the barn.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes. Make sure you pick out a good movie for us to watch.” She winked at the younger woman and headed for the door.
Jim had decided to take his protective role seriously and wanted to watch a movie with the girls. His decision was sweet, but it made Hayden a little envious. Henry Thorne, her father, would never spend a night on the couch watching a movie with his daughter after a hard day’s work.
Tramping down the steps, the husky at her heels, Hayden headed for the barn. Above her the clear sky was an obsidian blanket peppered with stars that twinkled like thousands of gems. It was so beautiful out here. The air was thick with the perfume of wildflowers dampened by rain and the fields of grass rippled slowly beneath the night’s gentle breeze. So clean and clear and wide open. Hayden breathed in deeply, grinning a little. Still tired and worn out from the day, she had just enough energy to make the short walk to the barn. She opened the metal gate of the small fence that separated the ranch house land from the barn, and closed it behind her. Coda followed dutifully as they reached the main door. It was cracked open and the interior lights shone into the night like a bright beam of gold.
Hayden pressed a palm against the wood door and slid it open. Inside the barn it was eerily quiet, more tomblike than an active space occupied by equine animals. Hayden realized she heard no huffing, no shifting of hooves in hay…What had happened to the horses?
Coda growled low, her white furry body tensing. Her ears flattened and she ducked her head slightly, her long, white, canine teeth flashing. Hayden tensed, too, the fine hairs rising on the back of her neck.
When she’d been a child she’d explored the crumbling, abandoned mansions on the Gold Coast near her home. Every now and then, she’d stumble into a room caked with dust and smelling faintly of decay, but oftentimes there had been something else there, a sense that she was not alone. Her flesh would break out in goose bumps, and the feeling of countless eyes fixed on the back of her head, ever watching, would frighten her into absolute stillness. Ghosts could not hurt her; they were ephemeral pools of energy trapped between dimensions. Once she’d convinced herself of that, she would run off and find her friends.
This was
nothing
like what she’d felt in her childhood.
Whatever was inside the barn with her was tainted and real. She strained to listen to the sounds around her for the faint inhalation of a breath, the shifting of feet on hay and stone. What or who was here? And why? There was an obvious answer, yet she was afraid to even think it.
Coda stalked forward and Hayden tried to stop her but the dog dove, snarling, into a stall. A figure leapt out of the stall next to where Coda had vanished and slapped the door shut, locking the barking, howling husky inside. A man in a ski mask and dressed entirely in black turned to face her just as she raised the handgun, pointing it at his chest.
“Where is Fenn Smith?” His voice was cold, soft, and oddly flat. It sounded unnatural, almost as if he sought to disguise himself. “Where is he? Do not make me ask a third time.”
Fear spiked through her, clenching her stomach and tightening her throat. “He’s not here.” Thank God he wasn’t.
The man in black advanced, stalking toward her.
“Stop moving.” She flicked the safety off the gun. “I’ll shoot.”
“You are not a killer,” he said.
“Take one more step and find out.” She meant it. She’d put a bullet in him if he tried to come closer.
He didn’t come closer, but he slowly removed a gun from a side holster on his hip. “Then we both will shoot each other.” She was facing off against an assassin.
Hayden had to make a choice. If she fired, he would, too. Or she could run…Coda was safe, locked in the barn…She spun and ran. Her muscles screamed, but adrenaline fueled her sprint as she tore out of the barn and straight for the house. She just had to get through the fence, but there wasn’t time to open the gate; it would slow her down and make her an easier target.
Please see me, Callie, call the police!
She screamed at the top of her lungs, hoping Callie would hear her if she couldn’t see her.
Something made a
whish
and a
pfft
sound past her and into the wooden post of the fence as she climbed.
Must not stop.
Her mind chanted as she fell over the fence and landed awkwardly on the other side. She was halfway to the house when she realized she was leading the killer back to Callie and Jim.
She veered to the right, heading for Fenn’s trailer. She slammed the lock into place behind her as she entered.
Thunk!
The lock on the trailer door fell to the ground and the man jerked the door open. Hayden swallowed the scream that rose up, raising her handgun at him but unable to shoot. He pointed his own gun at her and she stared down the long barrel. A silencer. No one would hear if he shot her with that. Her right arm stung, and her shirt was torn and bloody. They were facing off yet again.
“I could have killed you. Consider that scratch a warning.”
The nearer he came the more she inched backward, until the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed. There was nowhere else to go. Her breathing was ragged, and her body vibrated with the force of her fear.
“You shot the tire on the semi,” she said.
“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate. An almost hysterical part of her wanted to laugh. Weren’t villains supposed to monologue on and on about their schemes and give her time to plan an escape? This man, with his dead eyes behind the mask, didn’t do that. He simply watched her and waited—for what she didn’t know.
“If Smith is not here, where is he?”
Hayden struggled to think quickly. If she told him where Fenn was, how vulnerable he was, she might as well hand him over to die. She couldn’t do that.
“He’s meeting with the sheriff. The entire squad of deputies and the state police are on their way to set up a protective perimeter. They know you are out here, and they won’t let you get to him.” As far as she knew this was a half-truth; there might in fact be no real help coming, but at least Fenn would tell the sheriff what was going on.