The Texan (37 page)

“Soon,” Owen bit out.

For the first time, Bay noticed the sweat on Owen’s forehead and above his lip. A day’s growth of beard shadowed his face. There were dark circles under his eyes. He was barely recovered from the VX nerve gas and the infections he’d fought. Yet he’d never once complained. Or revealed his own fears.

“What’s your greatest regret?” she asked.

He turned to look at her, then focused his eyes on the windshield in front of him. “You.”

She felt an ache in her chest. “That you admitted you loved me? Or that you took me with you?”

“Both.”

“Will it help if I say I’m in love with you?”

He shot another quick look in her direction, but a sudden gust of wind hit, and he had to focus on sideslipping the plane. When it was steady again, he focused piercing gray eyes on her and asked, “Are you in love with me?”

“I think so.”

“Where does that leave us?” he asked. “I mean, considering all the barriers you mentioned the first time I brought up the subject.”

“I guess we’d have to find a way to make Sam accept you.”

Owen shook his head and swore.

“What’s wrong?” Bay asked anxiously, looking out the window at the deceptively fluffy cushion of clouds, wondering if the plane was going down like a bullet any second.

“Why do our families always have to get involved in this?”

“You know the answer to that without me saying it,” Bay replied.

“What happens if you can’t convince your brother to accept me into the family?”

“I haven’t gotten that far in my planning,” Bay admitted.

“Neither of us is getting any younger,” Owen said.

“I’d be grateful if we just get a little older,” Bay quipped.

“I’d laugh, but right now, that isn’t funny.”

Bay sobered. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Tighten your seat belt,” Owen said. “I think it’s time we put this plane on the ground.”

They came out of the clouds suddenly, and Bay could see the ground beneath them. It was flat all right, but covered with tightly bunched mesquite trees, whose roots traveled as much as a hundred feet underground to find water, and whose spiny branches scratched festering wounds in cattle where blowflies laid their eggs.

She turned to Owen and asked fearfully, “Where’s the runway?”

“It seems to be a bit overgrown.”

Bay searched for the runway again, looking for a break in the vegetation. “I don’t see it. Oh, there it is.”

Overgrown was an understatement. There was more green than brown in the strip of land. Bay hoped it was
grass. “I see the cabin, too,” she said. “Ohmigod! It’s Luke. And Clay.”

The two men were in an open jeep, racing for the runway. Obviously, they’d realized Bay and Owen were in trouble and wanted to be there when they landed—or crash-landed—to help.

“See,” Owen said with a flashing smile. “I told you Clay had rescued your brother.”

“It sure looks that way,” Bay said, returning his smile. “I’m so glad they’re both safe. Apparently, Ridgeway hasn’t been here yet, either. So that’s a bit more good luck.”

“Save some of that luck for our landing,” Owen murmured. “We’re going to need it.”

“Oh, God,” Bay shrieked.

“What?” Owen snapped.

“There’s a mesquite tree growing in the middle of the runway!”

“We’ll be landing just beyond it,” Owen said grimly. “I hope,” he added under his breath.

Bay couldn’t even reach for Owen’s hand, because he needed both of them to control the yoke. She tightened her seat belt yet again, so she felt like she was wearing a strait jacket—appropriate dress for someone as crazy as she had to have been to come along on this trip.

But even if this was the end, she realized she couldn’t regret the journey. Because she’d fallen in love.

She closed her eyes tight and started to pray.
Our Father, Who art in heaven
…

She heard the wheels chirp as they hit a bit of pavement, felt her stomach lurch as they bounced up again, heard Owen’s vicious curse as he fought the jet back down.

Hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come
…

“Hot damn!” Owen crowed. “We’re down.”

Bay opened her eyes. And barely managed not to scream. They were careening down the overgrown runway, brakes screaming as Owen stood on them. She closed her eyes and kept on praying.

Thy will be done
…

She was trembling all over when the plane finally rolled to a stop.

Owen gave a sigh of relief. “That was some ride.”

Bay felt Owen’s lips on hers and heard his laugh as he said, “You can open your eyes now, scaredy cat.”

She opened her eyes and reached out a shaky hand to grip the one he’d extended to her. “Thank you, God,” she croaked.

“I’m the one who landed the plane,” Owen said as he disconnected her seat belt. “How about thanking me?”

She was in his lap before he could release his own belt, her hands gripping him tightly around the neck, her lips pressed against his.

Safe
, she thought.
With this man I’m safe
.

A moment later the door opened, and Clay stepped inside.

“Jesus Christ, Owe,” he said. “Why were you flying without engines?”

“Somebody sabotaged them,” Owen said. “Correct that. Paul Ridgeway sabotaged them.”

“He’s the brains behind the whole thing,” Luke said as he joined them. “He’s the one who stole the VX mines—and a lot more besides.”

Bay was still too shaky on her feet to stand on her own, and Owen lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the plane, with Clay and Luke on his heels.

“What’s wrong with Bay,” Luke demanded. “Bay, are you hurt?”

“Put me down, Owe,” she said. “You’re scaring my brother.”

“He’ll recover,” Owen said, hanging on to her.

Bay reached out to clasp Luke’s hand. “I’m so glad you’re safe. Why didn’t you ask for help? I was so scared for you!”

Luke looked sheepish. “Because I thought Clay was the one who’d stolen the mines. That is, until Paul Ridge-way showed up at that camp in the Big Bend.”

“Let’s get back to the cabin,” Owen said. “We’re too exposed out here. Have you got a cell phone?” he asked Clay. “Our radio was down, too. We need to call in the cavalry.”

“Uh-oh,” Clay said, as they all piled into the jeep, Clay and Luke in front, and Owen and Bay in back, Bay still in Owen’s lap.

“No phone?” Owen asked.

“I didn’t bring the plug to recharge mine, and the battery’s dead,” he admitted. “I never thought we’d be here this long. But the powers that be didn’t want us moving until they found you.”

“Surely someone’s checking in with you periodically, to make sure you’re okay.”

“The Justice Department knows where we are,” Clay said. “Hank contacted them before he went into the Big Bend for the last time, said he had a snitch who’d given him some information that might lead to whoever it was who stole those VX mines, and he was going to check it out. He wouldn’t name the suspect, but he suggested it was someone in the FBI office in Midland.

“The Justice Department contacted me because of my relationship with Paul Ridgeway, and off I went.”

“You could have told me,” Owen said.

“Sorry about that. The Justice Department said I had to keep the whole business under my hat.”

“How did you find Luke?” Bay asked.

“I convinced Paul that I should be a part of whatever it was he had going. He sent me off to inventory his cache, and I found Luke and all the evidence the Justice Department needed. But you were still missing, so they stashed us for a while.”

“How often do you check in with the Justice Department?” Owen asked.

“Every four hours. I missed my last call a half hour ago, so they’ll be sending someone to check on us.”

“Let’s hope they get here before Ridgeway does,” Owen said. “If they don’t, how are you fixed for weapons?”

Clay lifted a brow. “You’re expecting an armed attack?”

“Ridgeway knows you’re here,” Owen said. “Or at least, that this is where I thought you might have taken Luke.”

“The gun room is full of shotguns and hunting rifles,” Clay said. “We can protect ourselves.”

“At least you’re alive,” Owen said. “I figured we’d be too late, that we’d find the two of you dead.”

“You never told me that,” Bay said.

“I’m glad I was wrong,” Owen said, as he slapped his brother on the back.

“Why don’t we light out of here?” Bay said. “Why not keep on driving until we get somewhere safe?”

“We’re better off at the cabin,” Owen said. “The Secret Service put in all sorts of security to make it safe for presidential visits. There isn’t any place safer that we could get to in the limited time I’d guess we have.”

“So all we have to do is lock down tight and wait for the cavalry?” Bay asked.

“That’s it,” Owen confirmed.

Bay heard what he wasn’t saying.
Unless Ridgeway gets here first
. The big question was, how many men would Ridgeway bring along with him?

“How many—” Bay began.

“How many—” Owen said.

Both of them stopped, and Bay gestured for Owen to continue.

“How many men were with Ridgeway at the camp?” he asked Luke.

“The most I saw at one time was five guys, including Ridgeway,” Luke replied.

“I took care of two of them, so that leaves two men—probably the two who chased after us at the airport in Alpine—and Ridgeway for sure,” Owen said.

Bay breathed an inward sigh of relief when they arrived at the Blackthornes’ hunting cabin. It bore little resemblance to Paul Ridgeway’s rustic hideaway. This hunting cabin was two stories high and looked more like some kind of Southern mansion made of logs. It was also shrouded by shrubbery where the bad guys could be hiding. Bay glanced at Owen and saw he had a SIG in hand, and that his eyes were surveying the land around the cabin.

“See anything?” she asked.

He shook his head. “But this place could definitely use a gardener.”

She slipped off his lap and got out of the jeep. “I’m okay,” she said when she saw the concern in his eyes.

She turned to Luke as he hopped out of the jeep and gave him a hard hug, which she was surprised
to feel him return. Her teenage brother was notoriously unwilling to be seen embracing his older sister.

“Are you okay?” she asked, releasing him and looking him over, frowning at the yellowing bruises and healing cuts on his face.

“I’m fine.” He reached down to touch her pinkened cheek. “What about you?”

“It’s nothing.” She slipped her arm around her brother’s waist and hugged him again, to reassure herself that he was real, and that he was really well.

When Bay entered the main room she saw most of the furniture was still covered by sheets. Two wing chairs had been uncovered and pulled up to the fireplace, which was where Luke and Clay had apparently spent most of their time.

She brushed a lock of hair away from Luke’s forehead, revealing a circle of pale yellow skin where a bruise was healing. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I got a little beat up,” he said. “But then Clay showed up—”

“And saved your butt,” Bay finished for him. She realized the twin brothers were standing side by side watching them, and that it was making Luke uncomfortable to be hovered over by his big sister. She let go of him, crossed to Clay Blackthorne, and held out her hand. “I want to thank you for saving my brother’s life.”

“You’re welcome,” Clay said. “If it hadn’t been for Luke, we wouldn’t know nearly as much as we do about Paul’s motives in this whole business.” Clay pulled the sheet off a brass-studded leather sofa that was centered on the fireplace and said, “Make yourself comfortable. It’s quite a story.”

“Before anyone gets too comfortable, I think we better check out our arsenal,” Owen said.

“Right,” Clay agreed, as they all headed for the gun room.

Bay had never seen so many guns. They lined the walls in glass and wood cases. “There are enough weapons here for an army,” she marveled.

“Unfortunately, there’s only the four of us,” Owen said, as he began opening gun cases and removing weapons. “How are you with a rifle, Red?”

Bay saw the speculative look Luke gave her at Owen’s use of the nickname and flushed when she realized Clay was giving Owen an equally piercing look. “I can hold my own,” she said, as Owen handed her a varmint rifle.

“We’ll keep shotguns handy at the front and back doors,” Owen said as he passed Clay two shotguns and two boxes of shotgun shells. “And rifles with us at all times,” he said as he handed Luke a rifle.

They spent the next hour making sure the cabin was secure, before they returned to the main room.

“I guess now we wait,” Luke said, as he slumped into one of the two chairs in front of the fireplace and settled one ankle across the opposite knee.

Clay took the chair across from him, a rifle across his knees, and exchanged a glance with Owen. “I hate waiting,” he said.

Owen sat on the arm of the brass-studded leather sofa. “So do I. Maybe you can fill me in a little more on how you got involved in this mess.”

“Sure,” Clay said. “The Justice Department suspected someone in South Texas was stealing a lot of mines from around the country, but they couldn’t figure out where he
was holding them once they were stolen. Then Hank Richardson pointed a finger toward Paul’s office.

“I didn’t want to believe Paul was guilty, but when he came to see me during maneuvers to find out when the VX mines were being moved, and then the mines were stolen, I realized he was guilty, after all.”

Bay found herself reluctant to leave Luke’s side. She draped her arm across the back of the wing chair in which he was sitting and asked, “So why did Ridgeway steal all those mines?”

“He wants to mine the border between the U.S. and Mexico,” Luke announced.

“What?” Bay and Owen exclaimed together.

“That was my reaction, too,” Clay admitted.

Luke continued, “He wants to keep out illegal aliens like the vagrant who killed his daughter. He wants to make sure no other innocent will ever be killed by some desperate wetback coming across the border.”

“He really has gone crazy,” Owen murmured as he glanced out the window to make sure there was no movement.