Chapter Twenty-Six
The deep mud had the pickup sliding sideways before Linc could get it righted and back on the road, but he was almost there. He could see the roof of the ranch house up ahead. He’d grab Carly and head back to the big house, where they would be safe.
Knowing her as he had come to, he hadn’t bothered to stop at the mansion, just blew past, and headed straight for the ranch house.
She was there; he could feel it.
He could see the front door now, knew a moment of relief that he had made it on the slick, muddy road. The feeling disappeared as the front door flew open and Carly rushed out of the house, bare feet flinging mud, rain plastering her thin cotton nightgown against her body, the wind whipping her hair.
A man ran out of the house behind her, running hard to catch her as she raced toward the trees. Linc saw a muzzle flash, heard the echo of a shot barely audible in the roar of the storm, and a wave of fury hit him like a jolt of electricity.
His foot jammed down on the gas pedal, jolting the pickup forward, the vehicle fishtailing in the mud. The truck bore down on the man, closing the distance, getting nearer and nearer. When the guy burst into the trees where the pickup couldn’t follow, Linc slammed on the brakes, jumped out, and ran hard into the pouring rain.
The storm had cranked up, driving branches and leaves into him with gale force winds. Lightning clawed the sky, and ear-shattering thunder followed. Linc kept running.
“Carly!” No way could she hear him, and the man chasing her didn’t seem to care. Linc’s mind spun. His gut told him this wasn’t El Jefe or one of his men. His jaw clenched. Ray Archer. Had to be.
The thought congealed an instant before Linc spotted him up ahead through the trees. He increased his speed, his boots sliding in the mud as he closed the distance between them. With a leaping tackle, he slammed Archer to the ground.
“He’s got a gun!” Carly shouted as the two men rolled in the boggy earth, fighting for control of the weapon.
Linc heard the shot Archer fired, heard Carly scream, and felt a jolt of pain in his ribs. He grappled for the pistol, snagged Archer’s wrist, and managed to pry the gun free and send it into the air, but it landed just inches from Archer’s head.
Linc drew back and punched him, but Archer’s hand snaked out and wrapped around the handle of the pistol. The barrel swung toward him, Linc knocked it aside and the shot went wild.
For an instant, Archer rolled on top of him as they fought over the weapon, Linc’s hand clamped around Archer’s wrist. From the corner of his eye, he saw Carly running toward them, wielding a tree limb, swinging it toward Ray Archer with all her strength. The limb crashed into Archer’s head, knocking him sideways. The gun went flying, and so did Ray, landing hard against the trunk of a tree and not moving.
Gritting his teeth against a stab of pain, Linc pushed to his feet, saw Carly running toward him, and caught her against his chest. The jolt sent a fresh shot of pain roaring through him.
She looked down, must have seen the blood. “Oh, God, he shot you!” She tried to pull back, but he wouldn’t let her go.
“I’m okay,” he said, hoping it was true.
“Where . . . where are you hit? How bad are you hurt?”
“It’s not deep, just a graze, I think.” A branch flew past, the wind blowing so hard he had to lean into it to keep his balance. “We’ve got to get out of here. Get somewhere safe.”
“What about Archer?”
“We’ll have to take him with us.” He turned, saw that the man was no longer sprawled on the ground, but up and running, heading toward the woods. A ragged streak of lightning flashed. Linc heard the vicious crack of a huge tree splintering, saw the great tree crash to earth—right on top of Ray Archer.
* * *
Carly couldn’t get her feet to move. Her heart felt as if it might explode through her chest while needles of rain slashed into her face. Twigs and leaves felt like steel slivers cutting into her skin.
“Stay here!” Linc shouted, holding his side as he moved off toward the man on the ground. Inside her chest, her lungs were burning with the effort to breathe as she waited for the words she was sure she would hear. The tree was massive. All she could see were Ray Archer’s legs.
Her throat closed as she pictured his bones crushed or his legs severed from his body.
Linc strode back to her, shouting to be heard. “He’s dead! There’s nothing we can do! We need to go now!”
She just stood there. Trees were coming down around them. The wind seemed to singe her skin. She felt Linc’s hand wrap around hers, felt the tug that jerked her forward, pulling her along behind him. They ran through the woods back toward the pickup, but when they got there, the road was completely impassable, the mud in puddles bumper-deep.
She looked up at the dark, looming clouds, the flashes of lightning coming closer and closer. They would never make it to the big house.
“The root cellar!” Linc shouted. Gripping her hand, he pulled her along in his wake as he ran toward the barn. There was a wooden door in the ground on one side she’d never noticed. Linc struggled to pull it open, fighting the wind and the rain. The door flew back and he led her down a set of wooden stairs, fought to close the door behind them, finally slammed it shut, then slid a heavy wooden bar into place to hold it.
Images filled her head and she started trembling. Ray Archer’s lifeless body crushed beneath the tree. The tornado bearing down on them. Visions of snakes and bugs in the underground cellar.
She could hear Linc moving around in the darkness, then the sound of a match being struck. She caught a whiff of sulphur and a candle began to glow, illuminating the inside of a chamber that reminded her of an underground tomb. Linc lit another candle, brightening the small space a little more.
“It’s not as bad in here as you’re thinking,” he said. “It’s cement, not dirt. The last owners had that done for safety before I bought the ranch. It smells like mildew, but it’s clean. There’s a cot and some blankets, plenty of water. As soon as the worst is over, we’ll get out of here.”
Linc drew her into his arms and held her, and though the storm seemed worse by the minute, her trembling began to ease. He had been right to come here. They never would have made it to the big house.
She looked at Linc and her muddled brain suddenly began to clear. “Oh, God, Linc—let me see how badly you’re hurt.” She didn’t wait for his permission, just dragged the black T-shirt he was wearing off over his head and saw the bloody gash across his ribs. “Oh, God.”
“I was right,” he said, examining the wound himself. “It’s just a graze. No broken ribs. I’ll be fine.”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. Dear God, he could have been killed! Nausea rolled through her as she remembered the instant she had believed he might be dead, the violent surge of grief that had nearly overwhelmed her. He was so vital, so strong. She couldn’t imagine a world without him.
Clamping down on her emotions, she forced herself to remain under control. “I need to clean the wound, get it bandaged.”
Linc glanced over at a stack of metal shelves against the wall. “I think there’s a medical kit there somewhere.”
She hurried over, found a metal box with a red cross on the front on one of the shelves, opened it, and took out bandages, tape, alcohol, and a clean roll of gauze.
Linc grabbed a blanket, stripped out of his wet, muddy clothes, wrapped the blanket around his hips, and sat down on the cot.
Ignoring his glorious chest with all its intriguing muscles, fascinating valleys and shadows, his lovely curved pecs, and smooth tanned skin, she used the gauze to wipe away the blood oozing from the gash across his ribs.
Cleaning the wound as best she could, she applied some antiseptic cream she found in the kit and taped on a thick gauze bandage. Satisfied it would hold until Linc could get medical attention, she stripped off her own wet clothes, wrapped herself in another blanket, tucked it in beneath her arms, and sat down beside him to wait out the storm.
Linc ran a finger down her cheek. “You scared me tonight. When I saw that bastard chasing you, shooting at you, I wanted to kill him with my bare hands.”
Carly thought again how close Linc had come to dying and emotion washed through her. “I thought he’d killed you.” She took a deep breath, fighting not to cry.
Linc pulled her against his uninjured side, his arm gently wrapping around her. “I’m hard to kill, baby. I learned that about myself in prison. Ray Archer didn’t stand a chance.”
She just leaned into him, breathed in his scent. She tried not to think how much he meant to her, how deeply she had come to care for him.
She thought of the ranch house Linc loved and hoped it would survive the storm. She thought of the horses out in the fields, safer perhaps than in the barn, and prayed they would find shelter.
She thought of Zach losing his father and her heart went out to him. No matter how bad Ray Archer was, the man was still Zach’s dad.
Linc’s husky voice rolled over her. “We’re gonna be all right, you know.”
“I know.”
His gaze moved over the blanket, all that covered her nakedness, and his mouth edged up. “I don’t suppose now is a good time to be thinking about sex.”
In spite of the exhaustion that enveloped her, Carly laughed. She looked like a drowned rat and felt even worse, felt as if every muscle in her body had been battered into submission by the storm.
Linc kissed the top of her head. “Why don’t you lie down, honey, and try to get some sleep.”
No way was she letting go of him, not after he had come so close to dying. Not after she had come so close to losing him. “I’m okay right here.”
His arm tightened around her.
Carly wouldn’t have believed she could fall asleep nestled against Linc’s shoulder. But when she awakened, they were both still alive—and the storm was over.
* * *
Linc stirred at the pounding he thought was in his head. Sitting on the cot, his back against the cement wall, with Carly nestled against him, he realized it was morning and someone was beating on the cellar door. A sharp pain in his side reminded him of last night as he eased Carly over, rose from the cot, and made his way to the wooden stairs.
Sliding the bar out, he shoved open the door and bright light hit him. His foreman, Joaquin Santos, stood next to Frank Marino, Deke Logan, and three other men, their backs to the early-morning sun.
“Is Carly in there with you?” Frank asked, his face clouded with worry. A thick white bandage was wrapped around his head, making his russet hair stand up.
“She’s here. We’re both okay.”
“Thank God.”
“What happened to you?” Linc asked.
“When the tornado warning went out, I drove back to the ranch house to bring Carly to the shelter. Halfway back to the main house, my car got stuck in the mud. When I got out, a piece of flying debris hit me in the head. One of the guys found me early this morning and got me patched up. We went back to the ranch house but Carly wasn’t there.”
“When we got there,” Deke said, “one of my guys spotted the Tex/Am truck so we figured the two of you were together. We started a search, weren’t having much luck till your man Santos showed up and brought us here, said you knew about the shelter.”
“Damn good thing I did,” Linc said. Carly came up beside him, tugging on her blanket to keep it in place. Linc slid an arm around her shoulders, keeping her close.
Every time he looked at her, he remembered the terror he’d felt when he’d seen her running out of the house into the deadly storm, seen Ray Archer shooting at her.
Carly turned to Frank. “I should have gone with you. I’m really sorry, Frank.”
“I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Unfortunately not everybody made it.” The short, barrel-chested guy next to Frank was one of the guards patrolling the property. Like the others, he was still wearing his sidearm. “Tree took him out.”
“The dead man’s Ray Archer,” Linc said. The men knew who Archer was, had been warned to keep an eye out for him.
“He shot Linc,” Carly said. “Linc needs to get to the hospital.”
“It’s just a graze.” But concern crept back into the men’s faces. “The first thing we need to do is call the sheriff.”
“Cell tower’s back up,” Frank said. “I’ll call the sheriff and get an ambulance out here ASAP.” Frank walked away to use his phone.
After one look at Carly’s worried face, Linc knew telling her he’d be okay wouldn’t work. Besides, they needed the ambulance to transport Archer’s body, and with the damned wound in his side throbbing like a sonofabitch, he could use a pain pill or two.
Now that the search group had found them safe and plans had been made, the men departed.
Half an hour later, Linc and Carly were back in the ranch house, which had suffered mostly rain damage from the open door and broken window, but survived the storm. Linc showered and pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and Carly did the same.
She re-dressed the gash across his ribs, then they sat in the living room, waiting to talk to the sheriff. The tornado had touched down in one of the distant fields, but jumped over the ranch house before continuing its path of destruction, which had luckily detoured around town.
The entry was full of water, the bedding and carpet wet and soggy in the master bedroom. The barn roof was gone, but according to Santos, the horses had sheltered in a ravine and were grazing again this morning as if nothing important had occurred. The main house had come through unscathed.
For everyone but Ray and Zach Archer, life would go on little changed. Now that Ray was dead, the boy would be leaving detention with his grandparents. Linc knew Carly had hoped to see him before he left, but the Wellers wanted to be back at home in San Antonio before they told Zach about the death of his father.
The grandparents were handling the funeral arrangements, which would include a memorial service a few weeks after the cremation. Linc wondered how many people would bother to attend.
With the Wellers so anxious to get home, Carly was forced to settle for talking to Zach on the phone.
“We’re family,” Linc heard her say. “That means we stick together no matter what.”
He couldn’t hear the boy’s reply but Carly told him she loved him and was going to miss him, and wiped away a tear.
Linc took the phone. “You remember what I told you, Zach. Whatever happens, we’re friends. That means if you need anything, you call me. Okay?”
“Do you think I could come and visit you sometime?”
Emotion expanded in his chest. “You’d better come see us. Carly just found out she has a cousin. You’re the only family she has. She needs you as much as you need her.”
Linc could hear the relief in the kid’s voice.
“I’ll watch out for her,” he said, “I promise.”
“Good boy.” They talked a little longer; then it was time for Zach to leave with his grandparents for the ride back to San Antonio.
When the call came to an end, Linc turned to Carly. “First chance we get, we’ll go see him.”
Her eyes swung to his and something shifted in her features. After he’d been shot last night, she had stuck to him like glue. But after they’d left the shelter, he’d noticed the shift, the subtle attempt to distance herself. The storm had been a nightmare. Ray Archer’s violent death had made the horror even worse. Linc told himself she was bound to be upset.
“You don’t have to feel obligated,” Carly said. “You’ve been great to Zach, but—”
“Wait a minute. I thought we agreed we’d do what was best for the boy.”
She took a deep breath. “I’m trying to be practical.”
“Are you?”
“Yes. I was thinking . . . now that Archer’s no longer a threat, maybe I should move back home.”
Irritation trickled through him, along with a feeling he didn’t want to examine too closely. “What about El Jefe?”
“I can’t hide from him forever. Sooner or later I will have to deal with him.”
He started to remind her they would be dealing with the drug lord together, but after almost losing her last night, an argument was the last thing he wanted.
“Why don’t we table this discussion for a day or two? The truck will be finished late this afternoon. I made a call, changed things around so one of my drivers will be bringing it back tonight. That means I won’t have to make another trip to Dallas.”
She started nodding. “That’s good. He can drive the Tex/Am pickup back to the city.”
“That’s right. That takes care of the immediate problem. Then unless you aren’t feeling up to it, tomorrow night we’ll attend that benefit the way we planned.”
She bit her lip, but didn’t say no, which he took as a good sign. Since they had only dozed a few minutes off and on in the shelter, as soon as the sheriff took their statements, he would insist they get some rest.
He knew exactly how to make her forget the events of the night, and afterward they could curl up spoon-fashion and both get some badly needed sleep.
Since he was getting hard just thinking about it, he forced his mind back to the benefit. “Sound okay?”
“I promised I’d go with you,” Carly said. “I won’t break my word.”
A faint smile touched his lips. “You know, there’s a chance you might even enjoy yourself.”
She relaxed and her expression softened. “You know what? I’m going to an exclusive black-tie ball with a gorgeous, amazingly sexy man. Maybe I just will.”
Linc smiled. He intended to see to it personally. Except for work, Carly had practically been a prisoner on the ranch. He’d made plans for tomorrow evening, big plans, and despite everything that had happened, he was really looking forward to giving her a special night.
Linc bent his head and very softly kissed her, felt her response, tentative at first, but then she melted against him. Desire pulsed through him. They were good together. Surely she could see that.
Reluctantly he pulled away. “We need to get going. The sheriff’s meeting us up at the big house.”
Carly sighed, which made him smile, and they headed for the door. Though the road was mired in mud, with four-wheel drive, they managed to make it up to the mansion. When they got there, the ambulance was waiting, and so was Emmett Howler.
Linc steeled himself for the inevitable confrontation he was sure the sheriff would enjoy.