Authors: Lois Greiman
She turned on him in wild frustration and biting fear. “What the hell’s wrong with you, Fox?”
He shrugged and grinned a little, though his posture seemed stiff. “I’m horny?” Her jaw dropped and he laughed as he rose to his feet. “Listen—”
“No!” She snapped the word at him. “You listen. Someone’s threatening your life. Someone was here. In this house. Someone—”
“They didn’t threaten my life. They just—” he shrugged again, but his brow furrowed “—left a note.”
“In your house! In your kitchen! They snuck past the security system. That means they know all about you. They’ve been watching your every move.”
Nathan shook his head. “Maybe I forgot to turn it on.” He smiled. “I’ve been a little distracted, you know,” he said and leaned closer to kiss her.
She jerked away, terror and guilt spurring through her. “No more.”
“What?”
“We won’t be distracted anymore,” she said. “You’ll stay inside and wear a safety vest. I’ll hire extra guards and a private detective. We’ll find out—”
“No.”
“Nathan—”
“No,” he repeated softly. “This is me.” He motioned toward the things around him. “This is what I am. I’ve given up enough for my career. I’m not going to give this up, too.”
She ground her teeth. “So you’ll give up your life!”
“My life!” He yelled the words, then pivoted away to yank his fingers through his hair. “No one has actually threatened me, O’Shay. There’ve just been a few letters. That’s all.”
“Threatening letters!”
“Threatening!” he scoffed. “We don’t know they’re threatening. Maybe they’re just pranks.”
“Pranks. Who—”
“I don’t know who. I’ve met a million people in the past ten years. It could be any one of them. Someone I’ve played a trick on. Someone I went to school with. Someone who’s seen me on the news, read about me in the paper, met me backstage.”
“You’re right,” she said, managing to calm her voice. “It could be anyone, and that’s why you’ve got to be more careful. Cancel any public appearances. Cut down on your—”
“No.” His voice was calm now too. “I won’t do it.”
“Please.” It seemed she wasn’t above pleading. She bit her lip, trying to retain some pride, to remember why she had first met him. But it was no use. Their relationship was no longer even recognizable as that of an employer and employee. “Please. If you won’t do it for yourself, will you do
it for me?” she asked shamelessly. “Because I…” She stopped, breathless, hopeless, terrified.
“Because what?” he asked.
“Please,” she whispered.
He stared at her, his eyes hard, and then, silent and angry, he turned away and left the house.
“S
EVEN POINT TWO SECONDS
.” The announcer’s voice boomed over the loudspeaker. “Let’s hear it for North Dakota’s own Fox brothers. Nathan and Tyrel.”
Several thousand fans screamed.
Brenna plugged one ear and spoke into her headset, her gaze never leaving Nathan as he waved to his fans.
“They’ll be leaving the arena in just a few seconds. Make sure the exit is clear. I want two men at the gate and five lining each side of the barrier between Nathan and the crowd at all times.”
Nathan kneed Lula forward and loosened his lariat enough to flip it off the steer’s horns. Tyrel did the same, freeing the steer’s hind legs. The animal shook his head and trotted irritably toward the exit.
With an additional wave, the Fox brothers left the arena.
Brenna followed along the steel railing, trotting to keep up and giving orders into her headset all the while. Near the corral where the bulls milled, she saw Shauna and Sarge and a few boys from the band, but she ignored them and managed to reach the exit just as Nathan did. Pushing through the crowd with some effort, she nodded to a beefy security man who held the mob at bay and hurried along beside the brothers’ horses.
In less than sixty seconds they had reached their stalls. Nathan stepped smoothly out of the saddle. “Think you got enough security, O’Shay?”
She ignored him and spoke into her headset again to one of the men she’d hired against Nathan’s will. “Well, tell
them to
figure out
when he rides next I want to know what bull, what chute, what time. Got it?”
“Maybe you better find out what color bull I drew,” Nathan said.
She turned toward him, anger shot through her. “If you don’t want security, Fox, don’t take risks.”
“Risks!” He snorted. “You think putting syrup on my pancakes is too risky.”
They stood faced off, surrounded by a half dozen guards. In the past week, they’d barely spoken ten words to each other. But now, standing so close to him, Brenna felt all those hot, distracting emotions rush back in like a curling tide. She held them at bay with a tight rein.
“You’ve done the team roping, Fox,” she said, careful to keep her tone level “Go home now.”
He stared at her, and for one wildly hopeful moment, she thought he might agree. But finally he shook his head. “I’ve got a bull to ride, O’Shay.”
She tried to remain strong, but despite her best efforts, she could not “Please,” she said softly.
“I gotta do this. You, of all people, should understand that.” He took a step toward her, but she regained her composure before he could touch her.
“Fine,” she said, and turning away, snapped a half-dozen orders into her headset.
The time passed like a speedy dirge, with Brenna tailing Nathan every moment. Each time he turned around she was staring him in the face, but his glare did nothing to make her back off.
The afternoon wound down.
“Bull riding!” the announcer boomed, his voice dramatic. “The most dangerous sport in America today.”
Brenna ignored the knot in her stomach and ran her hands down Nathan’s rigging one more time. Made of thick cowhide, it felt solid and whole.
“Want to check it after we cinch it on him?” a cowboy asked, nodding to a red bull confined to a narrow, highwalled chute.
Brenna couldn’t tell if the cowboy was being facetious or honest But it didn’t matter, for she was far past being either intimidated or embarrassed. “Yes,” she said, and handed him the rigging. Walking over to the chute, she looked through the bars. The animal was as big as a bus with twelve-inch horns and a nose that bowed out like a wildebeest’s. He turned toward her and glared through red-rimmed eyes. He was sweating, and there was a tiny smudge of blood on his shoulder where one of the other bulls must have scraped him with a horn, but despite all that, he seemed quiet enough.
Brenna prayed that looks weren’t deceiving.
The first two cowboys mounted their bulls and completed their rides unscathed. Brenna refused to look. A thousand carefully chosen words ran through her mind as she watched Nathan step over the top of the chute to straddle the bull’s back. But in the end she could think of only one thing to say.
“Please be careful.” The words were whispered, but he turned to her nevertheless, his lips canted into that heart-stopping half smile that was so uniquely his.
“I love you,” he said softly and settled onto the bull’s corded back.
Brenna’s mouth fell open, her heart raced like a runaway horse, but she was given no time to respond.
The chute gate swung wide. The bull turned his head toward the opening and stared. The crowd was expectantly silent. But suddenly a cowboy leaned over the chute, flapping a hat.
The bull started, and suddenly, like a mad spring hare, he launched from confinement Bucking erratically, he thundered toward the side rail and crashed into the fence. Nathan was tossed sideways like a tortured rag doll, but he managed to hang on.
The crowd gasped. The bull was already turning. Staggering away, he began to spin madly, throwing his body in every direction like a crazed dervish. But suddenly, without a moment’s warning, he collapsed on his side, pinning his rider’s leg beneath him.
“Nathan!” Brenna screamed his name. Sarge reached for her, but she yanked out of his grip. She was over the fence in an instant, but the bull was up just as quickly, leaving his rider behind.
Foam dribbled from the animal’s gaping mouth as he turned his wild eyes to Nathan.
“No!” she screamed again, racing across the arena, oblivious to everything but Nathan’s final words. He loved her. He loved her.
From her right, a clown tried to snare her, but she dodged past him.
Nathan had gained his feet. The bull lowered his head.
“Here! Here!” Brenna screamed and waved her arms, drawing the bull’s attention.
He turned his eyes to her, tossed his head once, and charged.
Brenna pivoted away, heart pounding. Hoofbeats thundered behind her. Terror rode her. The rest was a blur of colors and pain. She felt her ribs creak, saw the world fly by below her. And there, seeming a universe away, was Nathan hanging onto the bull’s tail.
Damn him. She was supposed to be protecting
him,
Brenna thought, and fell headfirst into oblivion.
“Y
OU’RE AWAKE
,” N
ATHAN SAID
, barely able to breathe for the hot tide of relief that rushed through him. The bull had only hit her once, then had turned in an attempt to remove Nathan from his tail. In moments, the animal had been shagged from the arena and the ambulance had arrived almost immediately. Still, it seemed that a lifetime had passed since he’d watched her fall.
“Nathan.” She breathed his name. “You’re all right?”
“Sure.” He squeezed her hand and longed to pull her into his arms. But bull riding had taught him too much about internal injuries to risk it “I got you as a bodyguard, don’t I?”
“You were supposed to run.”
“What?” His eyes stung, but crying seemed kind of sissy, so he decided not to.
“When I diverted the bull, you were supposed to run.”
“Oh. Sorry.” He tried for a self-effacing grin. It didn’t come off so good. “You should have said so.”
“Thought you’d know.”
“You’ll have to move back,” said a paramedic. “We’re going to take her to the hospital.”
“I’m going with her.”
“But your leg—”
“I’m going with her,” Nathan repeated.
Her gurney was lifted from the ground and slid into the ambulance. Nathan’s leg hurt like hell as he climbed in beside her, but he ignored the pain. Swooning was cute when
she
did it, but didn’t seem right for his macho character.
The doors closed behind them.
“You hurt your leg,” she said.
“It’s been busted before.”
“You broke it?”
She grimaced as she tried to sit up. He pushed her back down.
“Can’t you give her something for the pain?” Nathan asked, worry sluicing through him.
“I was just going to do that,” said the paramedic.
“No!” Brenna objected, but the syringe had already been emptied into her IV. “I’ve got to guard you.” Her eyes looked desperate.
“Relax,” Nathan pleaded. “Let me take care of you this once.”
“Your leg…” She looked like she was going to cry.
He tightened his grip on her hand. “They’ll take care of it at the hospital. I’ll be close. Please, don’t worry.”
But he could tell she did, for she was fighting to stay alert
They turned a corner. The ambulance came to a halt and the doors swung open. She was lifted out and rolled away.
Nathan hurried to keep up.
“What the hell are you doing, Fox? Get your butt in a
wheelchair.” Sarge’s voice was gruff as he hustled over from his car with Shauna right behind him.
Brenna lifted her lids with a stubborn effort. “Watch Nathan,” she rasped.
“Everything’ll be all right Nate’s tough,” Shauna said.
Brenna turned her gaze messily to Sarge, and he nodded.
“Don’t worry,” he said, his expression hard. “I won’t mess up this time.”
S
TRANGE IMAGES BUZZED
through Brenna’s mind like disembodied butterflies. Flashes of reality mixed in a world of make-believe—bulls in clown pants, a rodeo in the bathroom, Nathan riding a platinum record down a twisted trail. The world leveled off, leaving her with a few bright images, Nathan’s smile, the sound of his voice, the touch of his hand. Laughter and sunlight and silly lyrics to beautiful songs.
Brenna smiled and opened her eyes. The room was dark, but even without her glasses she could tell she was in a hospital. Memories rushed back in a painful wave.
Nathan! She sat up. A hundred myriad pains sparked through her. She gasped for breath and remembered more.
Nathan was safe. Sarge and Shauna had promised to protect him. She carefully lay back down. They were two of his oldest friends and would take care of things until she could. What she must do now was think. Figure things out Someone had left a letter in Nathan’s kitchen. Who? And if he planned Nathan any harm, why hadn’t he done something at the rodeo? It seemed the obvious place, what with the bulls—
Brenna’s mind stumbled to a halt. The bulls! Her brain spun into action. The bull, sweaty, absolutely still in his chute. Why would he run into the rail, unless…The smear of blood on his shoulder! Could he have been given an injection? Drugged? By whom? How?
Answers jumbled in her head.
“Nathan!” she gasped. The world spun momentarily as she swung her feet to the floor. But she focused on the door.
There was no time to lose! Not an instant! She hustled,
chilled and panicked, into the hall. The light struck her eyes. Where was he? Which room?
“Nathan!” She pushed a door open and switched on a light The bed was empty. She hurried to the next room. A blond woman sat up groggily when she opened the door.
Brenna turned away. Where? Her gaze fell on a chair next to a room door. She spun toward it. The floor wavered as she rushed across it. The door swung open beneath her hand. She lurched inside.
“Shauna!” Brenna tried to scream. It came out as a squeak and stopped in the middle.
From beside Nathan’s bed, a bulldog face turned toward her. A syringe was held in rubber-gloved hands.
“Sarge,” she whispered.
His expression of shock turned to anger. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Sarge,” she said again, stunned to immobility. “Why?”
“He’s a user.” His tone was flat.
“What?” She shook her head, trying to rid herself of this new nightmare. But she couldn’t wake up.
“He was nothing. Just a hick farm kid with a grin and a guitar. Shauna and me, we were the show, but Fox…he knows how to use folks.” He took a step toward her. “Don’t he?”
She backed away, shaking her head.
“Don’t believe me? You should. But women always fall for him. Shauna learned her lesson. The letters were her idea. But you figured that out, didn’t you? She wrote them, then sent them off from different places. Except the last two. I slipped the one into his hotel room just to see the look on her face. Tipped it right out of my hat.” He grinned.
“Then the accidents—”
Sarge laughed. “The accidents were accidents. But, God, it was fun to watch him pretend he wasn’t worried, and all the time he was sweating like a pig. I wasn’t about to let him die before his time. I had it planned so perfect I could see the headlines ‘The Fox dies as public as he lives.’ But…”
He shrugged, lifting the syringe. “I always have a backup plan.”
“Why?” Brenna whispered.
“Any idea what it’s like to have your dream pulled out from under you? But maybe you do, ‘cause you’re not really a bodyguard, are you, Brenna Theresa O’Shay?”
“You’re the one who called Bartman about me.”
He chuckled. “Jesus, how I laughed when he picked you. Was just like him to fall for a woman, and just like a woman to fall for him. Shauna was just as stupid, till she hooked a bigger fish. She’s a user too. Never thought she’d have the guts to kill him, though. But I guess I was wrong, ‘cause look.” He held up the syringe and grinned. “Her fingerprints are all over this.”
“You’re framing her,” Brenna said.
He chuckled. “You’re smarter than I gave you credit for at first. But you don’t have to go down with this, O’Shay. It’ll be our secret. You can even be the one that busts Shauna. And I’ll give you a first-rate recommendation.”
“You’re insane.”
“I’m inspired,” he contradicted. “There is a difference.”
“They’ll know Shauna wasn’t here.”
“She
was
here,” he said. “Seconds ago. Same time the nurse saw me go into the john. Hospitals are terrible understaffed these days. Shauna bitches about it all the time. Nobody saw me come out of the john or come in here. They’ll all think Shauna did it. Jilted lover and all that. Her syringe.” He lifted it as evidence. “Epinephrine for the bull. Pentothal for Fox. All taken from Shauna’s hospital. She’ll deny it, of course. But it’ll be obvious, specially when I tell them ‘bout her letters. Fox’ll be dead. I’ll be grieving. I tried so hard to protect him. Everyone knows I did. Only wild card is you, O’Shay,” he said and took a step toward her. “And he’s used you just like he did the rest of us.”