Cowboy Commando. Joanna Wayne

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      Cutter finished checking out the car. When he was done, he stuck his head through the open back door. “We need to get out of here. I’ll help you get Julie to my truck.”

      “I can’t just leave my car here.”

      “You won’t be driving it out of that ditch. It’s practically standing on the front bumper. I’ll call a tow truck.”

      “I can’t go to the cops, Cutter. You saw what—” Linney stopped herself before blurting out Dane’s name. She buried her face in Julie’s soft hair, kissing her on top of the head. “You saw what he’s capable of.”

      “I saw what someone’s capable of. Now let’s get moving. We can decide on an operational plan later.”

      “Forget a plan,” Linney said. “I just need a ride back to my house in Green’s Harbor. I’ll handle things from there.”

      Linney stayed entangled with Julie, but turned her face so that she was looking at Cutter. Her disheveled mass of red hair was loose now and bouncing about her shoulders. Arbitrary curls rested against her bloody cheek.

      Her chin was jutted at a defiant angle and she had a determined strength in her stare that the more youthful Linney of six years ago would never have been able to pull off. Unfortunately, she was as damn irresistible as ever.

      “I’m not leaving you,” Cutter said.

      “You saved our lives. You’ve done enough.”

      It sounded reasonable, but Cutter knew that the instant he’d spotted that gun pointed at Linney’s head, his choice in this was gone. He could no more walk away now than he could sprout wings and fly or whisper some kind of chant and have his old life as a Navy SEAL back.

      “I don’t want to make any rash decisions about what to do next. I like a clear plan of action before I engage. But I’m not leaving you, so get in the truck before the lunatic returns and I have to save you again.”

      She shifted, peering out the back window as if she thought his prediction would hex them and conjure up headlights. When she didn’t see any, she picked up Julie’s teddy bear and tossed it to him. “I’ll carry Julie if you’ll get her booster seat and grab my handbag out of the front seat. And remember, you asked for us.”

      Mere moments later, they’d abandoned Linney’s car in the ditch and were heading back in the direction they’d come from. He’d hold off on telling her of his conversation with Goose until Julie was asleep or they were alone.

      “Why did you choose this road to nowhere?” he asked.

      “I’ve been on it before with Al. He has a warehouse a couple of miles farther down. The company outgrew the facility, but Al held onto it. Said he couldn’t get enough for it to make selling it worthwhile.”

      “Tell me you weren’t planning to hide out there like some criminal on the run.”

      “I don’t owe you any explanations.”

      Which meant that was exactly what she’d planned to do. “Do you have a key to the warehouse?”

      “No, but I could probably figure out the alarm code to keep it from going off. Al’s not the most creative guy when it comes to passwords and codes.”

      “So you were going to break in to one of your ex’s properties and hide out with Julie instead of meeting with Goose.”

      “Desperate situations call for desperate measures.”

      Desperate measures didn’t appeal to Cutter. He liked his risks spelled out and alternate courses of action in place in case he met resistance. As a SEAL, he’d never accepted failure as an option. He definitely wouldn’t now.

      When he reached an intersection, he took a road less traveled, a narrow FM road that headed north, as a plan of sorts started forming in his mind. Somehow the claustrophobic condo with one bed and no weapons didn’t seem conducive to strategy planning or keeping Linney safe.

      “How do you feel about Dobbin?” he asked.

      “You can’t bring your aunt into this.”

      “She’s on an Alaskan cruise.”

      “What about her foreman? Doesn’t he still live on the property and take care of the land and her horses?”

      “Aurelio is still there, but I can’t see what difference that makes. He has his own house.” The more Cutter thought about it, the better the idea of crashing at the Double M sounded.

      So it was back to Dobbin, Texas, and the ranch. And back to Linney and an almost guaranteed one-way trip to heartache.

      CUTTER STOPPED at the metal gate.

      “I’ll get it,” Linney offered, already opening her door to jump into action.

      The weathered condition of the rectangular, hardwood Double M sign suggested that it had endured years of Texas thunderstorms and blazing summer heat. It clattered a dubious welcome as Linney jumped from the truck.

      The iron scrolls in the gate seemed to be staring at Linney, as taunting as an evil grin carved into a Halloween pumpkin. Even the ranch didn’t want her here, causing trouble for Cutter.

      She unlatched the gate and swung it open. The headlights of Cutter’s pickup truck pushed into the darkness, illuminating the rutted dirt road in front of her.

      She knew from past visits that the road led through acres of fenced pastureland before banking what counted as a hill in this part of Texas and then veering off toward a huge pond and the sprawling ranch house.

      She’d visited the ranch dozens of times before, albeit never with Cutter. As a teenager she’d come here for hayrides with laughing church youth groups or for the mini-rodeos or 4-H events that Hank and Merlee had hosted.

      Good folks, people said of his aunt and uncle, the words not nearly conveying their wealth or the influence the couple had held in the small rural community.

       Hank can close a deal on a smile and a handshake, and you can stake your life that he’ll keep his word.

      Linney’s own dad had said that too many times to count and she knew that Hank Martin had bailed him out financially on more than one occasion.

      Once the vehicle rattled across the cattle gap, she closed and latched the gate and scrambled back into the truck. “I’m surprised your uncle never blacktopped this road,” she said as they dodged a deep rut. “When there’s a heavy rain, the road must be almost impassible.”

      “Uncle Hank believed a ranch should feel like a ranch and that cows didn’t need paved roads. And he always had four-wheel-drive vehicles.”

      “Your uncle was one of a kind.”

      “He would say he was just from good Texas stock.”

      “Merlee must miss him a lot.”

      “I’m sure she does, СКАЧАТЬ