Chapter Thirteen
‡
“Are you hurt? What happened?” Connor asked Jo, almost grateful for the interruption. Sadie was right behind him, her face no longer the cold, hard mask she’d shown him on the porch. She rushed up to Jo and took her in her arms.
“Are you okay?” she echoed.
That was more like it. When he’d approached Sadie moments ago, her calm had unnerved Connor more than anything else—because behind that blank facade, her fury had been palpable. He’d thought he’d lost the battle before he’d stepped foot into the fray. Sadie wanted to leave him so badly she was willing to leave her home.
He couldn’t believe Tracy had photographed that kiss. If she’d wanted to screw up his life, it had worked.
Now he had to focus on the crisis at hand, as much as he wanted to turn to Sadie, take her in his arms and make it clear Tracy had never meant anything to him. “Are you hurt?” he asked Jo again.
She shook her head, but her words came out in gasps between her sobs. “No. I came—I came to check on the dogs and—and—they’re not there. None of them are there!”
“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Brian raced up from the direction of the barns. Connor’s father and brother rushed out from inside the house.
“Someone stole the dogs,” Connor told them hurriedly. Max—they’d stolen Max, too. Fury welled up inside him. What kind of coward went after a pack of dogs?
“We’ve got to find them. Where are they?” Jo wailed.
“We’ll find them. I promise,” Sadie said. “We’ll get them back.”
“Grant?” Connor said to Brian. “He’s the one who’s been bothering Jo.”
“He wouldn’t steal them.” Jo’s voice rose higher.
“We don’t know that,” Sadie told her.
Jo’s face crumpled again. “What about—that other guy—the one skulking around?” she demanded through her tears. “It has to be him.”
“But no one knows who he is.”
“We’ll find him—we’ll find your dogs,” Connor said. He nodded to Brian. “I think I know where to start.”
“I’m coming, too,” his father rushed to say.
“Me, too,” Dalton said.
Connor thought fast. “Dad, you come with us. Dalton, you stay here with the women.” He put up a hand to stop his brother’s protests. “Keep them safe, okay? Let’s go, before whoever it is gets too far away.”
He spared one last look for Sadie, wishing he’d had more time to talk to her, but knowing she’d never leave as long as Jo needed her. When he got back he’d have to convince her he’d done nothing wrong.
He couldn’t lose Sadie now.
“We’re not going to find dogs at a bar,” Brian told him when Connor pulled up in front of the Dancing Boot a short time later.
“We’re not looking for dogs. We’re looking for Tracy Jones.” Without waiting for an answer, he got out and stalked inside, knowing Brian and his father would be on his heels. Inside, he had to wait a moment for his eyes to adjust to the low light. This early in the afternoon, the clientele was sparse, but just as he’d hoped, Tracy was already working the bar, drying glasses and putting them away.
When she spotted him, she threw down the towel. “I don’t need what you’re selling.”
“Well, I need answers.” Connor crossed the room, braced his hands on the bar and leaned over it. “Grant Kimball. Start talking.”
“Complete asshole,” she snapped back, her eyes flashing with fury. Connor wondered if she’d pursued Grant, too. What had she said? She was sick of the men in Chance Creek and wanted someone new? Grant was as new as he was. If Grant had turned her down, too, no wonder she was furious. Especially if she’d heard he was sniffing around Jo. Losing multiple men to the Reed women had to sting.
“I need more than that. Why’s he here?”
“Why should I tell you anything?”
“Because someone stole Jo Reed’s dogs, and I don’t care what you think of me, or Sadie—Jo doesn’t deserve to lose the animals she loves.”
“I don’t know anything about any stupid dogs. And Jo’s as much of a Reed as Sadie is. They can all go rot for all I care.” Tracy picked up the towel. Another patron, an old man with the ruddy complexion of a lifelong alcoholic, was watching their exchange with interest from a nearby bar stool.
Connor ignored him and stifled the urge to reach across the bar to shake Tracy. “McNab. They’re worth a pretty penny. They’re almost weaned, which means Jo’s just about to be paid for them.”
Tracy shrugged. “What’s it to me?”
“McNab breed?” the man on the bar stool said. “John Willett’s got a litter of them up in Silver Falls. Plenty of people breed those dogs.”
“I don’t give a damn about who’s breeding them,” Connor told the man. “What I want to know is—”
His phone buzzed. With a growl of frustration, Connor grabbed it. When he saw Sadie’s name he took the call.
“We just found a ransom note. It had fallen down from where they’d left it,” Sadie said without preamble. Her voice was shaking. “They want two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for the dogs. Which is totally ridiculous, of course—but it says… it says it’s what we owe them. This isn’t about dogs. This is about the drugs, isn’t it? About the fact we’re still alive while Bob isn’t.”
Connor’s grip on the phone tightened. “Who is it from?”
“I don’t know—there aren’t any names, but it says ‘we’ and ‘us.’ ‘You owe us money. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Bring it to the Old Town Mart on High Street.’ That’s in Silver Falls. ‘Two a.m. Bring the cops and we’ll skin the puppies alive. We’ll send you the film to watch.’”
Connor’s gut tightened. “Sadie—”
“Jo’s beside herself,” Sadie said. “She’s absolutely hysterical. If they do it—if they film it—”
“They won’t. We won’t let them.” But Connor thought they’d just gotten a clear message about the kind of men they were dealing with. “You’re right; this isn’t about dogs. This is about the drugs you blew up.”
Was Sadie crying? Connor thought she was, which made him all the more determined to find the men responsible and—
He lowered the phone. Turned to Tracy, who flinched at something she saw in his gaze. “Tell me about Grant Kimball. Now. Or I swear to God—”
After a moment, Tracy dropped her tough girl act. When she spoke again, she sounded defeated. “Like I said, he’s a complete asshole. Arrives in town and struts around because he thinks he’s hot shit. He’s connected, you know. His family’s into all kinds of stuff back in Tennessee. Bunch of jailbirds. He’s only here because it got too hot for him. Him and his friend.”
“Friend?” Connor leaned closer. “What friend?”
“Ron Cooper.”
“And they’re both staying at the Cooper place?”
“Hell, no.” Tracy laughed, but sobered quickly. “Ron Cooper’s not welcome there. Gotta be a pretty black sheep if you’re the black sheep of the Cooper family, I always say. But that’s what he is. They’re both staying up in Silver Falls. At the Wild Spring.”
Connor looked to Brian.
“Never heard of it.”
“Bunch of cabins up on Heckam Ridge. Near the lake.” Tracy sighed. “I’ll draw you a map.”
“You’re telling the truth?” He wouldn’t put it past her to play another trick.
“I’m telling the truth. Which is more than I can say for you—or Grant.” Her bravado slipped again and something shifted in Connor’s heart. Life was brutal sometimes, and his gut told him Tracy had seen some of that brutality. “Why don’t you put the Willetts’ place on there, too.” He turned to Brian and his father. “I’ve got an idea.”
When Cass took over Jo’s care, wrapping her up in a light blanket despite the day’s heat and curling up next to her on the couch in the living room, Sadie joined a white-faced Keira in the kitchen. She’d already brewed an herbal tea for Jo with a strong sedative power. There was nothing more she could do at the moment. Outside, Dalton paced like a caged animal and she knew he was frustrated. He wanted to be where the action was.
“Is this what’s it’s always like here? Shoot-outs? Dognappings?” Kiera traced a finger over one of the grooves in the kitchen table. She kept looking out the window, as if the men might return any moment.
Sadie shook her head. “Chance Creek has its problems; all small towns do. But it’s hard to hide in a place this small. Someone will see something. It will all turn out okay.” She hoped. If Connor couldn’t find those puppies, Jo’s heart would break.
“Of course, Two Willows is a magic place,” Keira said, almost to herself. She caught Sadie’s eye and elaborated. “I can feel it. It’s like my home; it’s more than just a piece of land.”
Sadie didn’t want to think about that. “It’s going to be hard to leave it,” she agreed, then bit her lip, wishing she could take the words back.
“Connor said you two would make your home here. Have you changed your minds?” Keira frowned. “Has something happened between you?”
Sadie thought about lying. Decided she couldn’t. She was too tired to keep up a charade—too burnt out from everything that had happened these past few months. “There’s someone else.”
“Someone you love?”
Sadie shook her head. “Someone Connor wants. I don’t think he’s ready for a commitment like marriage. I don’t know why he even proposed.” She knew she shouldn’t say any of this to Connor’s mother. Unfortunately, her own mother wasn’t here to spill it to, and Keira was so easy to talk to.
“Because he loves you. Anyone can see that.”
“Then why did he kiss another woman this morning?” Suddenly angry, Sadie pulled out her phone and pulled up the photo again, her eye catching a text from Caitlyn that began with the words, URGENT—PLEASE READ. After Keira gasped at the image of her son kissing Tracy, Sadie opened Caitlyn’s text. Had she heard about the dogs and—?
What she read stopped her heart in its tracks.
Tracy kissed Connor, not the other way around. She asked him out. When he said no, she kissed him. When he told her he was getting married, she got furious. I think she already knew and set him up. She’s a bitch—don’t let her ruin everything.
Sadie scanned the text again, and the sinking feeling in her gut grew stronger.
Boy-crazy—that’s what they’d called Tracy back in high school. The kind of girl who’d ditch her friends last minute, tell lies about another girl, create drama—whatever it took to get a boy’s attention.
Or a man’s.
Tracy had slept with Mark knowing all the while he was dating Sadie. She wouldn’t put it past the woman to kiss Connor, then put the blame on him.
Keira had obviously seen the text, too. “I can’t tell you what to do,” she told Sadie. “I have no idea if my son is guilty or innocent in this. Maybe he’s turned into a right old bastard. How would I know?” She looked out the window again. “All I can say is don’t rush to judgement. Don’t rush to leave. Coming back is so hard. You can waste so much time in stubbornness.”
Sadie supposed Keira would know. She wondered where Connor and the others were now. Had they gotten any leads? They were putting themselves in danger to save Jo’s dogs. She hugged her arms across her chest, wishing she’d listened to Connor instead of believing Tracy.
Keira turned to study her. “Lass, it’s not enough to sit and wait and see. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. You need to fight for love.”
“How do I do that?”
“Call her. That woman. Find out right from the horse’s mouth what happened.”
“You think she’ll tell me?” Sadie wasn’t so sure. Tracy had crossed a lot of lines.
“It’s hard not to answer a direct question. Especially when you aren’t expecting it. Even when you’re a true reprobate.”
Why not give it a try? Keira was right; maybe she’d find out something. At any rate, it would give her something to do while they waited to hear from the men.
She dialed the number of the Dancing Boot and was relieved when Tracy herself answered.
“Tracy, it’s Sadie Reed. Are you sleeping with my fiancé?”
She held her breath through the long pause that followed her demand.
“No,” Tracy said finally. “I should have. If he’d seen me first, he would have wanted me; you know that.”
“But you didn’t sleep with him.”
“Fuck it.” Tracy sounded fed up. Spent. “We talked, all right? All he wanted was to know about Grant. I kissed him—to show him what he was missing. That’s all there was to it. So you can have him, but I’m warning you. Stop it. Stop taking all the men.”
“All the men? Who else have I taken?” Sadie couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Mark—”
“Mark? The man who tried to kill my sisters? To steal my home? You’re actually angry I dated him?”
“Who the hell am I supposed to date?” Tracy exploded. “I’ve known everyone in town since I was four!”
And hit on most of them by now, Sadie didn’t say out loud. She didn’t need to.
“I’m not a… whore,” Tracy said bitterly.
“I know.” Sadie softened; she did know. Tracy was a woman who wanted to be wanted. Who couldn’t seem to fill the hole that encompassed her need no matter how many men she was with. “I didn’t take Connor on purpose—”
“Whatever. Just stop.” Tracy hung up on her. Sadie turned to Keira, but found she couldn’t speak. Tears of relief slipped down her cheeks, and when the older woman opened her arms, Sadie fell into her embrace.
“There, there, lass,” she said, stroking Sadie’s hair as she cried. Sadie hadn’t realized how wound up the past weeks’ events had left her and she couldn’t seem to stop. Keira let her cry, murmuring nonsense words of comfort, and something shifted deep inside Sadie. Some old wound she hadn’t even known she still bore.
Her tears changed from ones of relief to ones of a long-held sorrow.
“Cry it out,” Keira murmured. “She’s with you still, you know.”
Sadie stiffened. How had Keira known—?
“Your mother’s here. Watching over you.”
Sadie’s breath hitched and a new outpouring of grief welled up in her. When she’d finally cried herself dry, she pulled back and wiped her eyes with the hem of her T-shirt. “How did you know I was thinking of her?”
“Doesn’t take a gift to know a lass needs her mother in times like this. Or that a mother would never truly leave such wonderful daughters.”
Sadie smiled and scrubbed a hand across her cheeks. “That’s kind.”
“I can’t fill her shoes, but I hope I can be a friend,” Keira said. “And I hope one day soon I’ll be able to call you daughter.”
Sadie couldn’t find an answer, but the possibility didn’t seem as far-fetched as it had just minutes ago. Nothing had happened between Connor and Tracy, even though Tracy had wanted it to. Maybe she could trust Connor.
Maybe she could marry him.
But first they had to bring Jo’s puppies home.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket and Sadie pulled it out. It was Lena.
“Damn fence is down. I’ve got cattle going every which way. I need help.”
“Jo can’t do it.”
“You can.”
Sadie made a face. She was as good a horsewoman as any of her sisters, but she wasn’t that big on herding cattle.
“What is it?” Keira asked.
Sadie relayed Lena’s message and was relieved when Keira brightened. “Leave it to Dalton and me. We’ve got this.”
It was mid-afternoon by the time Connor and the others reached Silver Falls. The stop at the Willetts’ place had taken longer than Connor would have liked.
“You lose my dogs, you’ll owe me full price for them,” Willett said, but he’d heard about all the trouble at Two Willows over the past couple of months, and he was a man who knew right from wrong. “If you ask me, there’s too much of those drugs coming through the area these days. I know it’ll never go away for good, but it didn’t used to be like this. Can’t say I’m surprised there’s a Cooper behind it.”
With Willett’s dogs in the back of the truck, and Brian back there to keep them calm, Connor continued on up into the hills to the Wild Spring, driving past the entrance to the resort, as it was labeled on the sign, and parking some way down the road. From here it looked like nothing more than a dozen ramshackle summer cottages that at some point had been converted to year-round use. He could tell they’d be cold in winter. Damp, too, most likely. He’d bet anything there was mold in the walls, and when he noticed the chimneys, he doubted the woodstoves attached to them would be anywhere near up to code. He sent his father in to scout the place and locate #11, where Ron Cooper was supposed to be staying. Connor was growing impatient by the time his father returned.
“Checked it out. Hardly looks like anyone’s living there. Lady next door told me he spends most of his time up at a drying shed he rents from the park’s owner. She’s a talkative type. Lonely. She would have given me the pedigree of everyone in the resort if I’d had the time to listen.”
“Resort,” Connor echoed with a shake of his head. “More like end of the road. Did she say he’s up there now?”
“I took a look. He’s there, all right. Got himself a lawn chair and he’s all stretched out like he’s working on his tan. Didn’t want to get too close. Figured if he’s got the dogs around they might smell my scent and give me away.”
“Good work. What about Grant?” Where was Max? Connor wondered. In that shed? His fists clenched.
“Sounds like he’s in and out. Sometimes staying here, sometimes not. She hasn’t seen him in a few days. Says his truck hasn’t been around at all.”
Connor ticked over the information in his head, asked his father a few more questions and made his plan. When he’d filled Brian and his father in, they got Willett’s puppies out of the truck, put them on leads and took a long, circular route through the woods that bordered the road to come within striking distance of the drying shed.
It was heavy work. The terrain was nearly vertical in places, the ground uneven. It was hard to keep the puppies in line and Connor was afraid their yipping would give them away too far in advance.
The dogs settled down as they tired out, though, and when Connor emerged on a rise of ground with a line of sight to the drying shed, Sean handed him the binoculars, and he spotted Ron. Just like Sean had said, the man was laid out in his reclining lawn chair like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Is he stupid?” Brian whispered when Connor had passed him the binoculars.
“Confident,” Connor corrected him. “He’s got the dogs where he wants them. He thinks he’s got us over a barrel.”
“Think Grant’s inside?”
“I think we’d better count on it. Although I don’t see him as the type to sit in a shed while his buddy’s getting a tan.”
“He has to know no one in their right mind would waste a quarter million dollars rescuing puppies,” Sean said.
“Maybe. But maybe that’s not his game. Think about it; you and the women blew up their drugs. They want money and they want revenge. Either way things go here, they win.”
“How do you figure that?”
“If we’re crazy enough to give them the money, they get what they want. If we don’t and they kill those animals…”
“Jo will lose her mind,” Brian said.
“And her sisters will blame us for failing. It’s like releasing a snake into paradise. A slow, nasty revenge.” Connor didn’t think they’d stop with that, though.
“Maybe they’re not really after all that much money,” Sean said suddenly. “Maybe they’ve set the bar high to see how much you’ll cough up.”
“That could be,” Brian said. “So, now what?”
“I get as close as I can. You get the dogs into position,” Connor said. “Be ready in case Grant’s in that shed.”
Sean and Brian moved off, leaving Connor to continue a slow, steady advance toward Ron. The cowboy had a lanky build, a sharp nose and straw-colored hair that showed under his hat. Connor made a wide circle slowly around to the back of the shed and scouted every step before he placed his foot down. He couldn’t make a single sound. Nothing the dogs inside might hear—
As Connor came around the corner, Sean released the Willett dogs right on cue. They ran barking across the clearing mere feet in front of Ron, who jumped to his feet.
“What the hell?” Ron, momentarily confused at the sight of the puppies—which he must have thought were the ones he’d locked into the drying shed—stopped in his tracks long enough for Connor to cold-cock him with the butt of his pistol. The man dropped like a stone. Connor searched him quickly, removed a Glock from a holster tucked under Ron’s armpit and handed it to Brian, who’d looped back to reach his side.
“Tie him up. I’ll get Jo’s dogs.” Careful to make sure first neither Grant nor anyone else was inside, he busted down the door of the shed and rounded up the puppies, taking a moment to give Max a squeeze and whisper to him it would be all right soon while the puppy showed his enthusiasm with a lot of wet kisses.
It took longer for him and Sean to collect the Willett dogs, but they eventually lured them back with treats, and soon the bed of Connor’s truck was full of puppies.
“What’ll we do with him?” Brian nudged Ron with his foot and the man groaned. Coming around, he thrashed for a moment, but when he realized he was trussed hand and foot, he soon gave up.
“You’ll pay. Don’t think you won’t,” he snarled at them.
“Save it for the sheriff.”
“Fuck you.”
“You’re the one who’s fucked.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that. I don’t think there’s a big penalty for stealing a couple of stupid dogs.”
Connor lost his patience, grabbed a roll of duct tape, ripped off a length of five inches and slapped it over Ron’s mouth. “You bother anyone at Two Willows again, I’ll put you in the ground where you belong,” Connor snarled at him. Ron was right, and that pissed him off. Plus, he still had no proof Grant was connected to any of this. The thought of him roaming free—hitting on Jo—
“Get him in the truck. Grab the dogs. Let’s get out of here.”
Brian drove the truck. Sean climbed into the bed with the dogs. Connor sat in back with Ron, who kept writhing and trying to shout against the duct tape over his mouth until Connor wanted to bash him with the butt of his pistol again. He was hot, sweaty and frustrated. After all this, Ron would probably get off with little more than a fine.
If that.
“We’ll take him straight to the sheriff’s office. I don’t know what Cab can do, but it’s a start,” Brian said.
They were quiet for the rest of the trip back into town, except for Ron, who never stopped trying to talk. They were almost to the Sheriff’s Department when a phone buzzed. Connor patted his pockets, but it wasn’t his.
“That yours?” he asked Brian.
“Nope.”
Sean was in the truck bed, so it couldn’t be his.
Ron’s words were garbled against the duct tape, but Connor finally figured out he was trying to say the cell phone was his. Connor yanked him forward, spotted a rectangular shape in his back pocket and fished it out. It was Grant video-calling him.
“Your friend’s a little busy,” Connor told Grant when he accepted the call.
“Oh, yeah? Well, I’ve been busy, too.” Grant’s face filled the phone, but then the image tilted, and a moment later, Jo came into view. “Say hello, honey.”
Connor’s chest tightened.
Hell.
“Connor?” Jo’s voice was slurred and her eyes were unfocused. “Connor—they’ve got—” Grant yanked her away and the next moment, all Connor could see was his face.
“Got your attention now? You know what we want. You know when and where we want it. You don’t get another chance. Fuck this up, and Jo’s dead.”
He hung up, leaving Connor speechless.
Ron said something against the duct tape that sounded cocky as hell.
Connor whirled around and slammed a fist into his face. “Go!” he yelled at Brian, who had already slammed his foot down on the gas. “I’ll call Cab and tell him what’s going down.”
“All right, ladies. Thank you for your hospitality, but your sister and I should be on our way,” Grant said. He hoisted Jo up over his shoulder.
Sadie could kick herself for giving her sister a sedative tea. Jo dangled as limply as a rag doll. She must have overdone it with the herbs; that’s what she got for tampering with them when her connection to them was cut.
“You can’t take her,” Cass cried, but like Sadie, her hands were tied behind her back. Both of them seated in kitchen chairs, trussed up like turkeys. Sadie had never felt so helpless. When Grant had come in waving a gun, there was nothing they could do. Thank goodness Alice was in town and wasn’t due back for several hours, and Keira and Dalton were off rounding up cattle with Lena. She, Cass and Jo had been the only ones in the house when Grant burst through the back door.
“I can do whatever I want. When I’m gone, you two had better rustle up some cash. Two hundred and fifty grand. Got it?”
“Don’t you hurt her,” Sadie said. “If you do, I’ll kill you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” When he turned, Jo flopped against his back, and Grant craned his neck to try to get a better look at her. He nearly rammed Jo into the kitchen counter and Sadie flinched. “What the hell did you do to your sister?” he demanded of them.
She must be out cold, Sadie thought. “She was upset. She needed to sleep. I gave her a—” Sadie shrieked when Jo reared up suddenly, grabbed a knife from the carving block on the counter and stabbed it into Grant’s back with all her strength.
Grant roared, dropped Jo to the ground and turned a circle, clutching at his back. Jo scrambled to her feet, grabbed another knife from the butcher’s block and ran to her sisters. First she cut Cass free, then Sadie, sawing through the plastic ties on their hands with a strength Sadie hadn’t known she possessed. Once free, Jo shoved both of them toward the living room.
“Get outside! Now!”
“Dammit!” Grant grappled with the knife in his back and finally pulled it free with another roar of pain. He charged after them, and Sadie increased her speed, tugging Jo after her.
They nearly made it to the front door before he rounded the corner and took a shot. The bullet whizzed by Sadie’s head and buried itself in the thick, wooden front door. She grabbed a vase from the delicate table that stood in the entryway and chucked it at him.
He twisted sharply to dodge it, exposing the still-growing blossom of blood across the back of his white shirt. “Fuck!” he yelled. “You fucking whore—I’ll—”
Cass yanked open the front door. Sadie pushed Jo out of it. “Go!”
“—kill you!” Grant pulled the trigger on the pistol again, as Cass dashed after Jo.
Sadie didn’t wait to see where the bullet hit. She leaped out the door, yanked it closed behind her and ran like her life depended on it.
It did.
There was no cover on this side of the house. They had to get around back—get her car—no, she realized as she skidded around the corner. She didn’t have her keys. Hide in the carriage house maybe, or keep running—
“Sadie!”
Cass and Jo had made it to the carriage house. Sadie raced their way.
“Run!” Jo cried, as awake as if she’d never been dosed. Sadie realized belatedly she probably never was. How many times had Jo spit out one of her mixtures the moment she turned her back? Thank goodness she’d done it again.
Sadie reached the carriage house and Cass pulled her inside. Jo slammed shut the door and locked it.
“Phone—phone!” Cass cried.
Sadie patted her pocket, but Grant had taken hers.
“He’s got mine,” Jo said.
“Mine, too.” Cass scanned the room. “We need weapons.”
“Connor and Brian know what happened. They must be on their way,” Sadie reminded her.
“From Silver Falls,” Cass retorted. “We don’t have that kind of time.”
She was right. Grant might be injured, but he had a pistol and they didn’t. “Let’s get upstairs.”
Alice’s workshop was full of costumes, and Sadie realized it could buy them time. “We can hide,” she said, keeping her voice low as they darted up the old wooden stairs. She wondered where Grant was now. Back at the house? Or right outside?
“That’s not good enough,” Cass hissed.
“He’s got to get up the stairs before he can get us.”
As if he’d heard their words, Grant called out from the front of the carriage house, “I know you’re in there. You can’t get away from me!”
“How is he still moving?” Jo said. “I got him good!”
“Not good enough,” Cass said. “Look at him!”
Alice’s second-story workshop was lined with large arched windows, and Cass had crossed to stand beside one, her back pressed to the wall to stay out of sight.
Windows, Sadie thought, a memory coming back to her. “Window seats.”
“What?” Cass asked.
“Check the window seats. Alice saves everything!”
Jo understood first. She fell to her knees, scrambled across the wooden floor to the closest window and propped open the seat cushion. Beneath it was a capacious storage space. Jo began to rustle through it. Sadie did the same with another one. “Hurry,” she hissed at Cass. “He’ll find a way in.”
Her window seat was filled with toys from their childhoods, back when they’d shared the space as more of a playroom than anything else. During rainy days, and in the winter, they’d turn on the radiators, heat it up until it was cozy and romp around in the large open space when their mother had had enough of them inside.
A chess set, decks of cards, board games, pads of drawing paper, scribbled over with their childish drawings—Sadie chucked them over her shoulder to see what was underneath.
“There’s nothing in here.” Jo scrambled to the next window.
“Nothing here, either,” Cass said. “Nothing good. Why does she keep this stuff?”
Sadie ignored her. The storage space in front of her was nearly empty, but she ran her hand around the base of it one last time—
—and pulled out a slingshot.
“What’s that?” Cass called.
Sadie held it up.
“Fat lot of good that’ll do against a pistol.”
She was right. And still—
“So far it’s the best we’ve got.” She jammed it in her back pocket and moved to another window, stopping on the way to scoop up a hard rubber ball. She jammed that in her pocket, too.
Cass pulled held up a bottle. “Jesus—she’s got lamp oil in here. That’s dangerous.”
Lamp oil? Sadie rushed to her side. “Find cloth—tear it into strips. Lots of them. Find small heavy things to wrap them around.” She held up the hard rubber ball as an example, and grabbed a swath of fabric from where it lay on Alice’s worktable. With shaking hands, she tore off strips, wrapped them around the ball and tied them in place until she’d mummified it—leaving a tail of cloth dangling from it. She doused the tail with lamp oil. “That’s one.”
“Sadie—”
“Got a better idea?” she said as a thump downstairs announced Grant had stopped circling the building and was getting serious about getting in. “We set them on fire and nail him with them when he tries to come in.”
“And set the carriage house on fire around us!”
“There’s a fire extinguisher.” Sadie pointed to it. “Another one downstairs. Besides, the bottom floor is concrete and so is the pony wall.” She spotted a bottle of water, tore another long strip of fabric and wet it thoroughly. She wrapped that around the rubber tubing, hope it would help prevent it from burning. She tested the rubber and breathed a sigh of relief when it stretched but didn’t snap. Age hadn’t hurt it.
“That’s crazy,” Cass said.
“I don’t know what else to do,” Sadie told her. The pony wall extended four feet up from the cement floor downstairs. All she could do was hope the missiles wouldn’t find anything to burn when they landed. And that they kept Grant at bay until the men reached them.
All three of them spread out to find cores for their fabric-covered missiles. Sadie found some batteries, a small glass votive candlestick and a paperweight. She wrapped them up as fast as she could and doused them, too. Cass and Jo handed her more missiles, but they’d only constructed seven of them when another crash downstairs told them Grant had made it inside.
“The stairs. Now!” Sadie scooped up one of the missiles. Her sisters grabbed the other ones. Cass snatched a pack of matches off Alice’s worktable.
At the top of the stairs, Sadie got in position, fetched the slingshot from her pocket and positioned the first of the missiles against the rubber strap. Cass held out the missile’s tail. Jo readied a match.
They all held their breath.
“Fucking whores,” Grant bellowed.
Suddenly, he was on the stairs. Jo lit a match, nearly dropped it, caught it and held it to the missile’s tail. It caught more quickly than Sadie expected, and when the flame whooshed up to engulf the ball, she dropped it with a shriek and watched it roll down the steps harmlessly and land at Grant’s feet. Grant kicked it out of the stairwell down to the first floor.
“Going to take a lot more than that!”
Thank God for that concrete floor, Sadie thought wildly as he stormed up the stairs two at a time. Cass handed Sadie the next missile and she held it firm. Jo lit a match. The cloth lit, but this time Sadie was ready for it. She let go the rubber and it snapped forward, propelling the fiery missile straight at Grant. It hit him square in the chest and he batted at it, dropping his pistol and slapping out the flames that caught fire to his shirt. He stumbled down several steps, caught himself with a hand on the railing and kicked the flaming missile down the stairs.
Cass handed her a third missile, Sadie positioned it and Jo lit the tail. As Grant turned around, Sadie nailed him in the face and he bellowed, flailed his arms, and slid and tripped most of the way down the stairs before he caught himself. With a roar of rage, he scooped up the fallen pistol on his way back up and fired off two shots. They buried themselves in the walls before Sadie took another shot and hit him again.
“Fuck!”
This time he charged them. Sadie couldn’t get off another shot. Jo lit the tail of the fourth missile, and it roared to life between Sadie and Grant as he flung himself at her and knocked her down at the top of the stairs.
The slingshot went flying. The burning ball of cloth singed them both and they scrambled apart, kicking and yelling on the small landing, while Cass and Jo jumped out of the way back into the workshop. The missile, still burning, fell down several steps and stopped. Sadie slapped the flames from her shirt, singeing her hands, but hardly feeling it.
Cass lunged between them for the pistol Grant had dropped again. So did Grant, his shirt still on fire. He knocked her off her feet and got there first, but Sadie scrambled to grab the pistol, too, just as Jo chucked one of the remaining missiles—unlit—at Grant and struck him on the cheek. He huffed out a breath as Sadie tried to twist the pistol out of his hand. Cass reached to help. Sadie dug her fingernails into Grant’s hand, drawing blood.
“Fuck… you.” His grip on the gun was loosening, but before she cold yank it away, he backhanded Sadie with his free hand, wrapped his fingers in her hair and lifted the pistol to her head.
“Sadie!”
It was Connor at the base of the stairs, a gun in his hand.
Too late, Sadie thought. Too late to save her. Too late for her to tell him she’d been wrong.
“Say goodbye,” Grant snarled, pressing the gun’s barrel against her cheek. “Fuck!”
Sadie fell back when he suddenly let go. Caught a glimpse of the gun inexplicably in Jo’s hand. Heard the deafening double crack of two shots exploding in the close quarters. Struck her head against the wall so hard she saw stars.
Grant staggered against her. Sadie drew back. Missed a step—
And tumbled down the flight of stairs.
“I hear gunshots,” Brian yelled, leaping from the truck the moment Connor hit the brakes.
Connor followed seconds later, not bothering to turn off the vehicle. Both of them raced into the carriage house, Sean at their heels, and Brian swore when he saw the flames licking up the walls that encompassed the stairwell to Alice’s loft. The shrill barks and yips of the puppies followed them, along with Ron’s muted shouts, but the dogs were leashed and couldn’t get out of the truck bed, and, bound hand and foot, Ron couldn’t get away, either.
Connor leaped for the opening to the stairs in time to see Grant grab Sadie and put a gun to her head. He cried her name, aimed and fired—just as another shot rang out. When Sadie pitched down the stairs, he thought he’d hit her. He raced to catch her, pulled her into his arms. Felt her all over, looking for blood.
There was none. Connor knelt on the stairs, cradling Sadie. The woman he loved.
“Cass? You okay?” Brian shouted, passing him on the stairs.
“We’re—we’re okay.” Cass’s voice came from the upper landing.
“Connor?”
He bent over Sadie, kissing her forehead in relief. She was alive. She was okay. So were Cass and Jo. But who had shot Grant at the same time he had? Two bullets had buckled him. His prone form still lay at the top of the stairs.
“You’re okay,” he told Sadie. “Everyone’s okay.”
Sadie sat up slowly, a hand pressed to her forehead. Connor followed her gaze to where Cass cradled Jo on the upper landing. Brian was bent over Grant’s still form beside them.
“He’s dead,” Brian called down.
Sadie let out a breath as if she’d been holding it. “You got him.”
“I got him,” Connor agreed. “But I wasn’t the only one.”
At the top of the stairs, Jo sobbed in Cass’s arms as Cass stroked her hair.
Connor met Sadie’s wide-eyed gaze. Nodded. “Jo got him, too, I think.”
When Sadie buried her head against his chest, he held her as if he’d never let go.
It was evening by the time Cab and his deputies left Two Willows. Grant’s body had been removed, the scene of his death blocked off with police tape. Jo and Sadie had been treated and released at the hospital, both of them bruised but otherwise unhurt, although Jo had already agreed to see a counselor the following day.
Connor knew their real wounds were inside. Sadie was tearful. Jo withdrawn so deep inside herself it worried him. He’d always considered her the gentlest of the Reed sisters. She’d been afraid for her life—her sisters’ lives—when she’d helped kill Grant. It was impossible to know whose bullet had ended his life, of course. Probably either shot would have done him in.
Still, he’d served in the military for years. This wasn’t the first time he’d ended a life.
It would be a lot harder for Jo to get past what had happened today.
Lena had been furious to find out what had happened while she’d been out on the range with Keira and Dalton. “I can’t believe I didn’t hear anything. How could I have not known?” she kept saying. Connor worried about her, too. Grant must have pulled down the fence to distract as many of them as possible; he’d only needed to grab one sister to be able to negotiate for what he wanted.
Lena blamed herself for not guessing it was all a ruse—and of course Dalton felt he was to blame—but neither of them could have known. Lena had positioned herself on the back porch again, and Brian knew she was keeping watch because there wasn’t anything else she could do to make things better.
When Cass, Alice and Jo went to curl up on the couch in the living room, the television on for company, Sadie hung back with Connor. His family had already left the ranch, to give the rest of them space and time to recover. There were sheriff’s deputies positioned in the driveway again. Nothing more would happen tonight.
“Cab locked Ron Cooper up? For what—puppy theft? Or did he have enough proof he and Grant were working together?” Sadie asked.
“Ron had outstanding warrants back in Tennessee. He’s being extradited. He’ll be escorted back where he came from, and according to Cab, he’ll definitely see some jail time.” Connor was more grateful than he could say Ron’s past had caught up to him. He wouldn’t have been able to stand it if the man had gone free.
“And Grant’s dead, so that’s that. Cab said the case is obviously self-defense. Jo won’t be prosecuted. Neither will you.”
Connor tried to hide his reaction. Must have failed.
“What?” Sadie asked.
“I hope that’s that.”
“But you don’t believe it?”
“We won’t be prosecuted, but I think we need to be careful. I think you all started a fight and it’s not over yet.”
Sadie’s shoulders sagged. “At least Jo’s dogs are back. She would have been devastated if they’d been killed.” He knew Sadie was worried about her sister, too. Jo hadn’t been in love with Grant—not yet—but she’d been well on her way toward falling for him.
And she’d shot him.
She’d need looking after. She’d need peace and quiet. Connor wondered if that was possible here at Two Willows.
Hadn’t they had enough trouble?
“Will you step outside with me?” Connor snagged two beers out of the refrigerator and led the way. They passed Lena on the porch and walked into the garden. He popped the top off one and handed it to Sadie, taking heart from the fact she still wore her engagement ring. “How about us?” he asked quietly. “Are we going to survive this?”
Sadie sighed and took a long drag on her bottle, then wished she had something warm to drink instead. Despite the heat of the day, she felt cold. “I want to. I love you,” she said simply. It was true, and there wasn’t anything more to add to that statement.
“You sound hesitant.”
She thought that over. “I’m… afraid. When I love people—they don’t always stick around.”
Connor nodded. “I know what you mean.”
She knew he did, but… “Your parents seemed pretty cozy earlier.”
“I’m afraid to hope that’s true,” he admitted. “I want it to be.”
“I think it is. I think they’re going to try for a second chance.”
“I’d like a second chance,” Connor said. “Sadie, I never want to hurt you.”
“I know that. I really do.” She met his gaze. “But if I let myself love you—really love you—things can happen outside our control. What if Grant had killed you?”
“What if he’d killed you?” Connor countered. “I couldn’t stand it, lass. I couldn’t. But I wouldn’t give up loving you all the same, just to keep my heart safe. Life is… hard. Love is risky. It means taking a chance. But the rewards—” He took her beer, set it down. “The rewards make up for everything.”
“Do you believe that?” she asked as he pulled her into an embrace. In answer, he kissed her, and the world switched back on with a blare of a radio turned up loud. This time the feeling was almost too much. Her nerves had been stretched past their limits these past twenty-four hours. Still, she couldn’t turn her back on the connection she had to this ranch.
And she couldn’t turn her back on Connor, either. For better or for worse, she loved him. Truly loved him. And he loved her, too. When she’d needed him most, he’d come for her.
There was no going back now.
“I believe in us,” Connor said, and kissed her again. “I believe in our future together.”
Sadie leaned against him. Felt his strength. His love.
“I believe in that, too.”