Authors: Becky Barker
The older man’s frown deepened. "I don't like it, either, but those were Luke’s orders," Juan complained irritably. “He doesn’t want to take a chance on getting anyone else hit by a stray bullet.”
It didn't take her more than two seconds to formulate her own plan. The hell with catching the shooter. The sheriff could worry about him later. She wasn't leaving Luke unarmed in a field while someone tried to kill him.
She wouldn't lose him. She loved him too much to even consider the pain of losing him the way she'd lost the rest of her family. She couldn't let anything happen to him. Not if there was any way on earth to protect him. "Get me Luke's rifle," she insisted tersely.
Juan's head shot back, and he stared up at her in consternation. "What do you think you're going to do?"
"I'm taking it out to him. It could be another half an hour before the sheriff gets here."
"The hell!" Juan started to argue, but she threw up a hand to stop him.
Her tone and expression brooked no arguments. "Mariando's so fast I can cross the distance before that madman up there has time to readjust his sights. She's used to me doing tricks and shifting my weight on the saddle. She won't be spooked if I slide down her left side to stay out of range."
The foreman was grumbling and shaking his head. "Luke won't like it. He told me to stay back. He'll probably kill every last one of as for letting you take that kind of chance."
Susan knew even though Juan wasn't pleased with her plan, he realized it could work. The men were too big a target and their horses weren't used to any trick riding. She and Mariando could do it. Luke needed some protection. His life might depend on him being able to defend himself if the gunman got any closer.
"At least he'll still be around to lose his temper," she said, her expression grim and set.
Juan's hesitation was brief. Then he went to the truck for the rifle. He had the men shift so there was a clear path to Luke. She’d need some space to get Mariando to a full gallop before she broke into the open pasture.
She waited impatiently for everyone to get prepared, patting Mariando's neck and praying the gunman wouldn't shoot her horse. She didn't think there was any chance, but it didn't matter when compared to Luke's safety. Nothing mattered when compared to him.
She pulled her feet out of the stirrups and shifted all her weight down the horse's left side, preparing Mariando for the ride. It would be difficult to cling to the side of the saddle and carry a rifle without the use of the stirrups, but she would need to make a swift dismount.
The horse was trained for calf roping, so she was used to quick starts and abrupt stops. Susan knew they could pull it off. Adrenaline began pumping through her veins as Juan handed her the rifle and she grasped it tightly under her left arm.
"Be careful," he demanded roughly.
She nodded. Another shot rang out and her fingers clenched around the reins. She wasn't going to let some idiot with a gun keep threatening Luke's life.
With a gentle tug of the reins and a nudge of her knees, she alerted the horse they were ready to move again. Mariando, always ready to run, bunched her muscles and then headed toward the field like a shot at Susan's urging.
Within seconds, they were at a full gallop and leaving the copse of trees for open field. Susan's heart raced, too. She allowed the few seconds she imagined it would take the gunman to redirect his fire, and then slid to the horse's side.
The pounding of Mariando's hoofs rivaled the pounding of her pulse as blood roared through her ears. Wind whipped her hair wildly and dust flew in her face, but she kept Luke in sight. He was swearing so loud she could hear him above all the raucous, but all she was concerned about was reaching him with his weapon.
Another shot rang out, this time aimed at her. Susan heard the bullet ricochet off some part of the saddle and whiz past her right shoulder. Then she was urging Mariando to an abrupt halt and sliding into Luke's arms. He snatched her to safety behind the tree trunk, and then shouted to send the startled horse galloping back to cover.
His expression was tight as he grabbed the rifle and pushed Susan into the curve of the tree trunk where the upended roots offered more cover. She was breathing so hard she couldn't speak, but he had no trouble verbalizing a string of raw curses.
His eyes were dark and furious as he flipped the safety off the rifle and shoved the clip into place. He took aim and fired several shots toward the ridge. The shooter returned fire, but now that Luke was armed, he didn't dare move any closer.
It was a standoff, but a long and noisy one. Susan huddled closer to the tree and covered her ears with her hands until the worst of it was over and Luke finally stopped shooting. When she eventually lowered her hands, it was to the sound of an approaching helicopter.
Relief washed over her. Help had arrived. The chopper passed over them toward the ridge, and then she heard the engines cut back. There was shouting from a distance as the sheriff used a bullhorn to demand the gunman throw down his weapon. She held her breath, hoping he'd comply without endangering anyone else.
"He's surrendering. I can’t see him very well, but I saw him throw down the rifl,'' Luke said, straightening from his crouched position. He laid his gun aside and turned toward her. His eyes were turbulent when he focused on her. "Are you all right?" he growled, reaching out a hand to help her up.
Susan couldn't speak. She was trembling so violently she didn't trust her voice. She quickly jerked her hand from his grasp and stepped aside so he wouldn't realize how shaken she was or think her a coward.
His expression tightened even more, eyes blazing with fury. She didn't know if he was furious with her or just the whole situation. She averted her eyes so he couldn't read the raw emotion she was too traumatized to hide. Before either of them could say anything, they were surrounded by people. Everyone on the property had been alerted and they all wanted to make sure neither of them had been harmed.
Juan was the first to reach them, enveloping Susan in a bear hug. Then John was grabbing her for a hug while Luke began yelling at the men for letting her risk her life.
"What the hell's the matter with you?" he raged. "Have you all taken loss of your senses? That guy was good. He could have picked her off the horse if he'd reacted fast enough! His shots came too damned close as it was!"
Juan and the men didn't make excuses nor explain that the gunman's accuracy was exactly the reason they'd welcomed Susan's help.
"You knew the sheriff was on the way! Why the hell didn’t you just follow my orders and keep everybody back?"
Susan realized he needed to vent his anger, yet the tone of his voice made her tremble even more. Reaction
to
the scare she'd received began to set in, and she clung tightly to John for another long minute.
"Can you get Susan up to the house while I deal with the sheriff?" Luke asked his grandfather, his tone losing some of its heat. "I'll be up as soon as I can."
John agreed and steered her toward his pickup truck at the edge of the meadow. Susan walked to the truck on shaky legs, relieved to take a seat in the cab.
The sheriff's helicopter landed in the open pasture, and they watched as Luke and the men went out to meet him. Then John drove her to the house without another word. She thanked him and let Rosa fuss over her some more, but soon pleaded the need for rest and headed for the master bedroom.
* * * * *
A short time later, Susan heard Luke climbing the stairs, and she lifted a hand to swipe the tears from her face. She braced herself for more of his anger, but continued to pack her clothes in a couple of ragged suitcases left over from her college days.
The door swung open behind her, but she didn't turn to face him. He stepped inside and quietly closed the door. Suddenly the whole room was charged with explosive tension.
"What the hell's going on?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.
She cleared her throat of tears, determined to get through the next few minutes without breaking down and crying like a baby. Keeping her back to him, she offered an explanation.
"I think it's time I leave. It's obvious we're never going to make this marriage work, so we might as well cut our losses right now."
A heartbeat of brittle silence passed and then another.
“I told you I’d never let you go.”
She swallowed hard. “Your actions speak louder than words,” she argued. “I can’t stand much more of your anger and disgust. I thought we could get past it, but apparently we can’t.”
He started to speak, but she interrupted him. "You don’t have to worry about losing the Hanchart land. I found another way for you to keep it in the family," she explained, reaching into the drawer of the nightstand and retrieving a legal sized envelope.
She turned briefly to give it to him, but kept her eyes downcast. When he didn't take it, she laid it on top of the stand instead and turned back to her packing.
"When you first offered to pay off Shane’s debts in exchange for the land, I stupidly refused. My common sense was blinded by silly pride. But you took care of the bills, and now I can afford to start a new life and you can find a more suitable wife.”
“The hell!” he growled.
The tone of his voice sliced her like a knife, so she told him the rest in a breathless rush. “I've decided to deed the land to your firstborn child," she said, swallowing more tears. "That way the land can remain in the family without me actually selling it to you and without breaking the terms of Shane's will. I had the papers drawn up to make you guardian of the property until your son or daughter reaches an age that you consider responsible enough to take possession."
The idea had come to her one night after they'd made love, when she'd thought about the possibility of being pregnant with Luke's child. At the time, she'd imagined herself to be the mother of that child. Putting the land into a trust had seemed a good way to counter some of Luke’s lingering resentment. Now it had turned into a way to release him from their marriage altogether.
Even though she loved him with all her heart, the day's events had convinced her that he was never going to return those feelings. He was never going to consider her an equal partner in their marriage. He even resented her help when his life was in danger.
Sometime during those traumatic minutes out there in the pasture, she'd realized that she couldn't go on living a lie. It was just too hard to love him so desperately and feel him growing more distant each day. Before long, his resentment would grow into hatred and she couldn't bear the thought.
Now was the time to make a clean break and allow them both to get on with their lives. A sob caught at her throat, but she fought for control. She folded and refolded clothing, waiting for him to agree with her and leave her alone again.
His voice, when he finally spoke, was so low and deep that she had to strain to hear it. "Did you lie when you said you loved me?"
Susan's hand flew to cover her mouth and stifle an unexpected sob. He certainly knew how to cut her to the quick. She might not be the woman of his dreams, but she wasn't a liar.
“No,” her answer was muffled, but clear.
"Did you lie when you said you wanted a real marriage, a family, and a lifetime commitment?"
The questions didn't get any easier. "No."
"Have you changed your mind about all those things? Realized you don't really love me?" Her love for him had changed; had gotten more intense, more passionate, and more heartbreaking in depth.
"No." Her response was a thready whisper.
Then Luke touched her. It was little more than a hesitant touch of his fingers to her back, but it was almost her undoing. They were always more honest and open with their physical communication than with the verbal.
“Turn around and look at me,” he insisted gruffly.
Susan hesitated. Dust caked her face, and hot tears streaked her cheeks. She didn’t want to face him looking red-eyed, insecure and as vulnerable as she felt. Instead, she stiffened her spine.
When she made no move to turn, Luke stepped closer. She could feel the heat of his big body. His tone went even lower in a soft. “Please.”
She heard her own vulnerability echoed in Luke’s voice and that hit her hard. She turned slowly, but he swiftly enveloped her in his arms, dragging her close to his chest and hugging her tightly.
Susan wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest, overjoyed at the thudding of his heart. "I was so frightened for you out there," she mumbled against his shirt. He was hard and warm and alive. She clung tighter, trying to absorb the scent and feel of him.
She heard a groan rumble from chest, and he clutched the back of her head. "You couldn't have been half as scared as I was when I saw you riding across that field with no protection at all."
Luke scared? The very idea made Susan's breath catch. She tilted her head back so she could see his face. He returned her steady regard without flinching or attempting to hide the raw emotion displayed there.
What she saw in his eyes made her heart stop, and then begin to race. Could all that emotion be directed at her alone. "You were frightened for me?"
Luke moaned, closing his eyes and hugging her more tightly. He sunk his fingers into her hair and held her head against his heart. Then he lowered his head until he was whispering in her ear.
"I've never been so scared in my life, and I never want to be that scared again. I wasn’t afraid of the shooter until he aimed at you. I don't want you taking risks like that for me."
"I thought you were furious because I interfered and ignored your orders to stay out of the way."
"I was furious because I was scared," he admitted huskily, nuzzling her ear and neck with his face. "The thought of anything happening to you scared me a whole lot more than having bullets whiz by my head."
Her heart soared. Did she dare believe she was important to him? That he was beginning to care for her the way she cared for him? The thought brought new hope for their marriage. Maybe he was willing to give their relationship a chance to grow. Maybe she didn’t have to go.