Logan's Woman (21 page)

Chapter 21

The second the shot rang through
the room, and the body standing in front of her jerked, she flung
herself down the chute that Logan had told her to take. There were
three men just around the corner; she could see their shadows.
Praying to god they didn’t notice the chute as her body hurtled
through, she barely stilled the building scream as she was slammed
into a hard corner.

Darkness surrounded her, and then
she was stopped. Hard. Her head pounded like a bitch, and she
barely caught herself from falling back into the metal of the
chute. It was dark, and through the chute she could hear the sounds
of steps and voices, echoing down to her.

God, how did she open this? She
bent on her elbows, shoving her feet into the wall of metal. It
groaned, but didn’t move. She took a deep breath.

Her side hurt.

She was terrified.

She didn’t know what she was going
to do when she got out of there –
if
she did get free.

“Down there!”

Claire heard the exclamation and
felt herself freeze. There was a sound of struggle from above, and
then silence. Then a slow, steading thumping – like they were
making their way down the chute.

Adrenaline shot through her. Not
caring if she was heard anymore, she brought her legs back, and,
using every bit of strength she possessed, kicked the metal. It
sprang half way open with an ear-ringing creek. It wasn’t a very
big gap – but it was enough for her to slip past. Maybe the men up
there would have a little trouble getting through a small hole like
that – or at the least, it would slow them down.

Her heart jumped in her throat as
her foot landed on the cool, slick grass. Was there anyone out
here? What was she going to do? She couldn’t take one the truck and
leave Logan and the other’s to themselves. She still had the
riffle. She’d just shot a man. She’d probably just
killed
said
man.

What else did she have to lose?
Either she made it through this or she didn’t. She swallowed
roughly and swiped at something falling down her cheek—tears.
Claire had tears raining down her face. God. Oh God. Her stomach
heaved and she clutched it about to vomit –

“How much farther do you think this
thing goes? Hurry up! She’s getting away!”

Claire forced herself to calm down.
She had to get moving. Logan would never forgive himself if she got
hurt. Still, as she put her other foot on the grass, she felt the
bile in her throat, tasted it.

That was the only thing that had
her sprinting from the chute – to where, she didn’t know. She had
no idea how many men were actually on the ranch – bad guys
or
good guys. Hysteria
bubbled in her throat.

She felt like she’d run for hours,
when she’d only been running for seconds. Her throat was heaving
and her palms were sweaty. It was dark out, with only the moon as a
source of light, so when she tripped, Claire felt like someone out
of a movie.

She struggled to get to her feet.
When she tried to lift herself, her arms trembled to the point of
shaking. Claire knew her legs would be exactly the same. Panic,
worse than before, welled in her chest.

That was probably the only thing
that gave her the strength to shriek when someone grabbed her by
her shoulder. Adrenaline had long ago turned into blinding
hysteria.

“Claire,” the person grabbing her
shoulder hissed. It sounded vaguely familiar but that didn’t mean
anything to her. How could it when she was about to die? Her chest
heaved with a sob and she kicked out futilely.

She barely noticed when her foot
actually caught something. More hands grabbed for her from out of
nowhere. “Oh god. Just let me
go
,” she screamed, trying to twist
her way out of the arms.

“Claire, calm down! Be quiet — it’s
us. Frank and the others!”

She could hardly register the
words. Firm, weathered hands grasped her cheeks, making her stare
into kind, yet instant, green eyes. Familiar green eyes.
Frank.

Frank?

“You have to get out of here,” she
gasped, shoving at him. Not only had she put Logan into danger, but
everyone on the ranch as well. Terror laced through her chest —
until she noticed the rifle he held in his hands, along with the
one that she had used to shoot the man with…the one she didn’t
remember carrying with her at all.

“Stay quiet,” he ordered her,
helping her to her feet. “We have to get you back to our
barn.”

He helped her steady herself before
nodding at someone behind her — then she was swung into thick arms
and the group of men that had come with Frank, including the one
holding her, rushed out of the open.

Claire didn’t know what to do.
Helplessness coursed through her.

“Logan… Where’s Logan? Where are
the other guys?”

The dimly lit barn, filled with
beds, wooden closets, and table stands, held around twenty or so
men. They all worked for Logan — that much was clear by the ruined
jeans, dirty boots, and scuffed up long-sleeved shirts they all had
on. They weren’t a part of the group that was trying to get her at
least.

Frank answered her. “In the house, all of them.
Now, are ya’ hurt anywhere? We heard a gunshot.” The men around
them nodded and all crowded around her, trying to get a look for
any injuries. She wrapped her arms around herself, shrinking away
from them.

“I’m not hurt. My shoulder is a little sore but
that’s it… Frank, we have to go help them. There are so many people
in there…”

He gave her a grin. For some reason, she took
it with unease quickly became suspicious. “What’s the smile
for?”

“There were maybe twenty of ‘em to start off
with. There are maybe forty of us. Ya’ really think a bunch of
cowboys can’t take care of a bit of black jackets?” He straight out
laughed, face crinkling up with a joy that belied the dangerous
situation they were all in.

…All in because of her…

Fear lacerated her heart. “Four of them came
after me; only three are left, though.”

Around them, the men sobered. Even Frank
quieted. “It was ye’ that fired the shot?”

Claire stared up at them helplessly,
unable to stop the tears that stung her eyes. “Logan said he’d be
mad if I didn’t defend myself,” she said, tightening her arms
around herself. God, she was terrible. It didn’t matter that those
men had been after her
—
she’d shot one, possible killed one.

Her eyes closed and a tear slipped down her
cheek.

“Ya’ did the right thing,” he said, leaning
down to pat her shoulder. The men around her also took suit, making
a point to pat her shoulder. For some reason, the action had a
bubbly laugh escaping her throat. Was that a hint of hysteria she
sensed?

“God… We have to help Logan.”

Logan. She prayed that he was okay. Claire knew
that he could handle himself, but against so many men? Her heart
clenched.

“No, we have to stay right where we
are
—
“

The barn door slammed against the wall, cutting
Frank off. Instantly, she was surrounded by a wall of cowboys with
not even a chance of seeing over their shoulders.

Which, to be honest, wasn’t that bad. She
didn’t want to know what was on the other side of them. Her nerves
were shot, but that didn’t stop fear from shooting through her not
for the first time that night.

“Where is she at? Is she here?”

Logan.

That was Logan’s voice. Oh
god,
that was Logan’s
voice
!

Relief, sharp enough to bring her to her knees,
shot through her. She shoved past the men and there he was. There
was a streak of blood running across his jaw, but other than that
he looked unharmed.

She flung herself at him, wrapping her arms and
legs around his body as tightly as she could. Her face pressed into
his neck as his arms cam around her. A shudder ran through him, and
she could have cried. He was okay. He was here. He was with
her.

“Are you hurt? Are they gone? What
did you do? Logan, I was so scared you were hurt. They wouldn’t let
me leave to help you
—
“

He shut her up by pushing a hand in her hair,
dragging her head back, and then crushing his lips on hers. She
could taste the fear, the relief, the hotness that was Logan. She
moaned into the kiss, her panic and terror finally
depleting.

Heat tore through her, and she was reminded of
what had happened just earlier that night. Claire was so consumed
by their kiss, so drunk on the taste and feel of him, that she
forgot there were other people in the barn, watching
them.

Logan pulled back, and she sighed drunkenly. “I
was so scared,” she murmured, pressing her face into his neck
again. Her body was shaking, but not from the cold. No, she was so
thankful that Logan was okay and with her again.

“I know. I’m sorry…you aren’t hurt? I heard the
shot and I didn’t know…” She stared up at him. His face was drawn
into tight lines of worry and it sounded like he could barely
talk.

“I wasn’t the one being shot,” she
reassured him, hating herself all over again for being the
one
to
shoot the
gun.

“Thank god. I thought so when I saw the body on
the floor…” He trailed off when her face paled.

“They’re all taken care of.”

He pulled back from her then, staring down at
her with pressed lips and an unreadable expression in his
eyes.

“What?” she asked, beginning to get
worried.

“There’s also something else…and he’s waiting
out by the barn.”

“Who?” Her eyes widened with confusion, and she
grabbed his hand as he began to move farther back from
her.

Logan closed his eyes for a second, then let
out a hiss of a breath. He guided her silently around the barn,
everyone in there following them. Frank was close behind, his face
screwed into a tight frown. Her expression matched his.

“Ah,” he started, sounding awkward, before
moving behind her and giving her a clear view of who exactly was
out there.

Claire froze.

There, standing in the shadows, in black slacks
and a sports jacket, was her… “Dad?”

Chapter 22

“Wait, he’s done
what?
”

“You make me repeat myself a lot,”
Carl complained. But even so, he said, “Her dad showed up. With a
lot of agents.”

Thick silence. Carl winced and
began to speak when Joey hissed, “Did anyone notice you
there?”

Carl frowned. He hadn’t talked to
anyone since showing up and finding Ms. Campbell, well except for
Joey, so the answer was a no. He told Joey so and had to stop
himself from frowning at the second round of silence. Sometimes
that man was so over dramatic that it hurt Carl’s head.

A sigh came from over the line, and
then something breaking. Carl’s frowned deepened. “Are they taking
her back?”

Carl shrugged, even though Joey
couldn’t see it. “I dunno. I’m behind a bunch of bushes that are
just a couple yards away from the barn… Senator Campbell just
walked up to Ms. Campbell.”

“Well get closer, you
dumbass!”

Carl glared. “I don’t like being
called names like that, sir. I can’t get closer anyways, even if I
wanted to.”

“Why the
hell
not!” Joey roared through the
phone. Carl pulled it back and punched the button on the side,
lowering the headset volume. He glowered silently, wondering if he
should even respond to such a stupid question.

“Because,” he finally said. “If I get closer,
one of those agents mind find me. And if they find me, they find
the phone. The second they see me and your number on my phone,
you’re screwed. Do you really wanna risk it?” he growled, his
high-pitch voice reaching the sound of a normal-sounding
man.

His chest clenched at the unfairness of it
before he was forced back to the situation by Joey’s irate
sigh.

“You need to move fast then. If you
have to, kill both the Senator
and
the girl. I don’t care anymore,” he snarled. Carl
watched the lights in the barn flicker. Several agents limped from
the house
—
they
sure had gotten a major beating from Logan, he thought, watching
them with a wince.

He pulled back into the shadows, under one of
the close trees, and considered what Joey had said. “Kill them
both?”

“Yes. Kill the cowboy
—
“

“No.” The word was short, hard, and
abrupt. He would
not
kill Logan Marshal.

“No? You son of a bitch
—
you can’t tell me no.
I’m the one that helped you out of prison! I’m the one that’s
paying for your
freedom
. You can’t tell me
no
!”