Lone Star Lonely (15 page)

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Authors: Maggie Shayne

Tags: #texas, #family, #secrets, #cowboy, #ranch, #contemporary romance, #western romance, #maggie shayne, #texas brands, #left at the alter

BOOK: Lone Star Lonely
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She turned Mystic around and started for the
border. She would have plenty of time. She figured the canyon where
Adam had gone to meet his brother was a half hour’s ride from here.
By the time Adam got there and back, she would have a solid head
start. And if he was smart, he wouldn’t bother following her,
anyway.

She dug in her heels, leaned low over the
sleek, muscled neck and held on. The mare sailed through the night
like a cloud across the face of the moon. Gloriously chilled air
rushed over Kirsten’s face, lifted her long hair. Animal heat
warmed her where her legs held tight to the horse’s sides, and she
felt those powerful muscles bunching and lengthening beneath
her.

It had been a long time since she’d done
anything like this…given anything in her life this kind of rein.
Run headlong through the night and let the thrill of it invigorate
her to the marrow. The stars glittered down, and the moon lit her
way. A silver strand glistened ahead, a stream, and she leaned,
squeezed, spoke softly. The mare jumped it easily, landing again
and never breaking stride. This was good. And freedom lay just
ahead.

Freedom…

She’d thought freedom had come when she’d
found her husband lying dead on that cold marble floor. But it
hadn’t. Joseph still imprisoned her, even from death.

Now she thought she would find this elusive
thing—this freedom she craved—on the far side of the Mexican
border. But would she?

She eased her seat, let up on the mare. Their
pace slowed, and Kirsten asked herself just what it was she wanted
freedom from. Prison? A murder charge? Yes, certainly those things.
But what about Texas? Her home, her town? What about her father?
How would she ever fulfill her promise to get him out of the
nursing home, to bring him to live with her, if she was a fugitive
for the rest of her life? Did she really think she would ever be
able to send for him? Take him down there to live with her? How
would she explain the false names she would have to use? How would
she get him the heart transplant he so desperately needed?

And what about Adam?

“And now we get to the truth, don’t we?” she
whispered.

She slowed the horse to a walk, lowered her
head. He was what she was really running from. Adam Brand, the man
she’d always loved, and the truth she’d kept hidden from him. The
horrible secret it was going to kill her to tell. That was why
she’d run from him in the first place. Why she’d kept on running
ever since. Why she was still running.

Because the fact was, running away from the
truth had been easier than facing Adam with what she’d done.
Watching the love in his eyes turn to hatred. Seeing the pain, the
hurt. And it was still easier.

She swallowed against the dryness in her
throat and looked ahead. Lights here and there, where the border
patrol lay in wait. More officers than usual out here tonight.
Probably because they had a fugitive to hunt down. Kirsten licked
her lips, moved more slowly, strained her eyes to see where the men
were, and hunted for a spot between them, where she could slip past
unnoticed.

Then one of the lights flashed from someplace
far too close, shining right into her eyes. She lifted one hand
instinctively to block the glare, and a man’s voice yelled, “Hold
it right there!”

Jerking the reins hard, Kirsten ducked low,
whirled the horse around and kicked her sides. The mare leapt into
motion, then picked up speed even more when a gunshot—a
frighteningly close gunshot—split the night’s silence. And then
dozens of others rang out in answer—coming from farther away, but
aimed at her, every one of them.

“Adam?” Elliot lowered the gun when he got
close enough to confirm it was his brother he’d been pointing it
at.

“Put that damn thing away,” Adam snapped.
“You trying to get yourself killed?’’

“Trying to help you out of a mess of trouble,
big brother. Not that you seem to be any too grateful.”

“I’m not. I don’t want you involved in
this.”

“Too late,” Elliot said. He holstered his
gun, got off his horse. Adam noticed the lean grace with which he
moved, the power he seemed to hold in check. Hell, Kirsten was
right. His kid brother wasn’t a kid anymore.

Adam dismounted as well, swallowed the
scolding tone that kept trying to creep into his words, and instead
clasped Elliot’s hand. When had it become so big, so callused?
“Thanks for the supplies.”

“No problem. Where are you staying?”

“Made camp not far from here. For now. We’re
gonna have to move around a lot.”

Elliot nodded. “Garrett didn’t sound the
alarm. I wanted to make sure you knew that. He tried to stall,
never said a word about whatever the hell happened at the estate
this morning. The rangers never knew you and Kirsten were missing
until they showed up to place her under arrest.” Elliot paused,
eyeing his brother. When Adam didn’t speak, he said, “I saw the
bruise on Garrett’s jaw, Adam. The rest I’ve been piecing together
on my own.”

Adam lowered his head, guilt rising like bile
in his throat. “He didn’t give me any choice.”

“The hell he didn’t. He’s our brother, Adam.
He wouldn’t have—”

“He was going to let them arrest her.”

“Well what the hell did you expect him to do?
He’s the sheriff, and she’s wanted for murder.”

Adam shrugged, shook his head. “Is Garrett
okay?”

Elliot just stared at him. Then his smile
finally came back. Slowly, but surely. “What? You afraid you hurt
him?” Elliot’s grin grew wider. “You are, aren’t you? You sure do
have an active fantasy life, pardner. Garrett’s got thirty pounds
on you. You might better ask yourself why big brother Garrett went
down so easy, instead of wondering how bad you might have hurt him.
If he’d hit you back, you’d be in a coma right now.”

Licking his lips, biting back an angry retort
based solely on his own ego, Adam paused, thought back and finally
sighed. “You’re right. He did go down awfully easy.”

‘“Course I’m right.” Elliot shrugged. “I
mean, not to belittle that bruise on his jaw or anything—you always
did have a solid right hook—but this is Garrett we’re talking about
here.”

Adam’s guilt grew even bigger. “He let us
go,” he said slowly.

“Damn straight he did. Then, when the rangers
came out later in the day and found you two gone, they accused
Garrett of aiding and abetting. Threatened to bring him up on
charges, but I think he managed to convince them he was completely
unaware you’d left. And now they’ve got a full-fledged man-hunt
going on.”

“I figured as much.” Adam lowered his head,
sighed. “Listen, all I want to do is buy some time. Find out who
killed that bastard, pin a medal on him, and then see to it Kirsten
doesn’t end up doing his time for him.”

Elliot sighed, too, hunkered down. “I kinda
figured that was the plan. But how are you gonna do any digging
when you can’t get back into town?”

“I’ll think of something.”

“I could—”

“No.”

“But if I—”

“Absolutely not.”

“Adam, for crying out—”

“No, Elliot.”

Elliot’s jaw went tight. He held his
brother’s gaze, his own every bit as stubborn. And then he pulled a
hand out of a pocket. It had a brown plastic prescription bottle in
it. He held it out. Adam took it.

“What is this?” Joseph Cowan’s name was on
the bottle. And the name of the drug it contained was one that was
familiar. “Percodan?” Adam glanced at Elliot for an
explanation.

“I found it in the medicine cabinet in
Cowan’s master bathroom when I…er…broke into the house today.”

“You broke into the—”

“I thought you ought to know about it.”

Adam sighed, turned in a circle and pushed
his hat off his head. When he faced Elliot again, he shook his
head. “The rangers left this?”

Elliot shrugged. “Probably didn’t see
anything too strange about a pill bottle in a medicine cabinet.
Maybe they didn’t recognize it for what it was. I wouldn’t have
myself, except for Doc prescribing it for me when I was seventeen
and got thrown by the bull—”

“Thrown and then stomped by the prize bull
you’d decided you could ride,” Adam said. “I remember. You were
broken in so many places, the whole family ached.”

“But, Adam, why the hell would Cowan have
been taking a painkiller this powerful? This stuff is a narcotic,
for crying out loud.”

Adam blew a sigh. “You got me. It’s a damned
good question. But, Elliot, I don’t see what this could have to do
with the murder. He didn’t die from any drug overdose. It was a
bullet in the middle of his forehead that put the bastard in hell
where he belongs.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. Maybe nothing.
But it’s all I could come up with.”

Adam stared at the label, willing the bottle
to talk to him.

“You’ve still got it bad for Kirsten, don’t
you, Adam?”

Looking up sharply, Adam saw the knowledge in
his brother’s eyes…the brother who was no kid anymore. Finally he
just lowered his head again.

“Hell, we all saw it from the minute you came
back here. You were the only one who didn’t.”

“Yeah, well, she’s keeping a whole pile of
secrets, Elliot. And I don’t know if she’s gonna be ready to trust
any man again any time soon.”

“Shoot, you’re not any man. You’re my
brother.”

He felt his lips pull into a half smile.
“Thanks, Elliot. That means a lot.”

Elliot smiled back, slapped Adam’s shoulder
and turned toward his horse. And that was when the echo of distant
gunfire came floating on the breeze, ringing and bouncing off the
canyon walls, making it impossible to judge direction or how many
shots or anything else.

But Adam’s heart froze over, and that was all
he needed to know. “Kirsty…” He leapt into the saddle and spurred
the horse toward camp, where he’d left her. But he had a sick
feeling he wouldn’t find her there.

He was halfway there before he realized his
kid brother was riding right alongside.

They passed the camp, and he knew without
much more than a glance that Kirsten wasn’t there. No horse, no
sign of life. She’d bugged out on him. Headed for the border. Hell,
she was running from him all over again.

They rode hell-bent for leather, and the
shooting became louder. The horse blew hard, digging her hooves
into the dirt, throwing clumps behind them and thundering over the
barren ground. And finally Adam saw her. Kirsten was heading right
for them, her horse running like the wind, her body bent over,
almost horizontal to the animal’s. Beyond her, lights and motion.
ATVs and spotlights, bounding over the rugged terrain.

“Take her and go,” Elliot shouted. “Go on.
I’ll stall them.”

“Elliot, you can’t—”

“Have a little faith in the kid, will you?”
Elliot said with a grin, and then he clicked his tongue at his
horse, and the two rode off in the direction of the border patrol.
Elliot seemed to be setting a course for a direct interception.

Left with little choice, Adam turned his
horse around and caught up to Kirsten.

She was breathless. Her face as pale as the
moon-light, her eyes wide. She stared at him as he rode up beside
her, but she didn’t say a word.

“Come on,” Adam said. “This way.” And he
guided her up into the craggy foothills, into cover. It would be
tough for anyone to find them here, and he didn’t really expect the
border guard to try. They had to keep their posts. They could call
in reinforcements, of course, but if he knew Elliot, and he did, by
now the kid was spinning a yarn that would throw them off the
scent.

Within a few minutes, the sounds of pursuit
seemed to have stopped. So had the shooting.

“Right here. Come on.” Adam slid off his
horse on a boulder-strewn hillside and reached up to help Kirsten
down, as well. She came. No resistance, no argument, and not a
word. Her feet hit the ground. Her knees followed.

“Hey, hey, careful now.” Adam closed his arms
around her, tugged her upward. The rag doll response was what
finally tipped him off. Her head hung on a limp neck, and her hair
was in her eyes.

“Kirsten?” He pulled her upright and pushed
the hair aside so he could look at her face. But her eyes were
closed, and his hand came away wet and sticky. “Kirsty!”

He shook her. No response. Gathering her up,
he pushed her hair aside and turned her face toward the moonlight
so he could see the damage.

But all he could see was blood.

Chapter 9

 

Kirsten’s head hurt. She opened her eyes
slowly and tried to see through the haze and the pain. It smelled
funny here. The surface she lay on…stiff and soft, not the
hard-packed ground. A shape came into focus. A face. A dear,
familiar face.

“Adam?”

He leaned closer, his hands on her face,
smoothing her hair. “It’s all right. You’re okay. I’m right here,
Kirsten, and you’re gonna be just fine.”

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