Cowboy's Texas Rescue. Beth Cornelison
chafed Chelsea’s icy legs and rubbed her fingers, praying she didn’t have frostbite. Even though she’d been significantly underdressed for the conditions, her saving grace might be that the temperature had been near freezing and not subzero.
“S-Sadie,” Chelsea croaked.
“What?”
“H-his dog. I h-hear her.”
Jake nodded. “She’s in her pen out back. I’ll bring her in when I get some more wood for the fire.”
Chelsea shook her head, scowling. “No. N-now. It’s freezing out th-there!”
Jake arched an eyebrow and flashed her a lopsided grin. “All right, I’ll get her. Do you know if she bites?”
“Sadie’s a s-sweetheart.” She shuddered again, but he noticed a healthier color was already returning to her cheeks. She licked her pinkening lips, and his libido kicked hard. Her lush mouth tempted him to forget he was raised to be a gentleman and steal a taste. Now might not be the right time, but later…
Squelching the spike of arousal that spun through him, Jake shifted her off his lap and gave her the sleeved blanket as he pushed off the couch. “I’ll be right back.”
Before venturing outside, Jake checked the front closet and found a heavy camouflage hunting jacket, which he commandeered, along with a fleece sweater, which he took for Chelsea. He tossed her the sweater as he passed the sofa on the way to the back door. “Put this on, and I’ll check the bedrooms for more clothes when I get back with the dog.”
“Aye-aye, C-Captain,” she returned, the corner of her mouth twitching in a teasing grin. Her good humor and alertness boded well for her recovery, and Jake drew a deep breath of relief as he headed outside.
Sadie paced and barked at the gate of her pen as he crossed the yard.
“Hi, Sadie,” he said in a soothing, friendly tone. “Good girl. Where’s your person? I bet you’re cold, huh?” He let the dog smell his hand through the fence, and Sadie wagged her tail as she wiggled excitedly waiting for him to open the gate. “Let’s go inside. Okay, girl? Good dog.” Judging Sadie not to be a bite threat, he opened the gate.
Sadie charged out…and tore across the yard toward the stables, barking.
A tingle raced down Jake’s spine. Had the dog seen something he missed?
“Sadie! Here, girl. Sadie!” Blowing into his cold hands, he headed at a trot across the lawn toward the stable. “Sadie?”
The dog appeared in the door of the stable for a moment, as if to say, Are you coming?
Jake jogged to the stable, approaching the open door cautiously. “Hello? Mr. Noble, are you there?”
No answer. Hearing only the agitated nickering of horses, the whip of wind and Sadie’s dog tags tinkling as she paced, Jake moved into the shadowed stable. His gaze assessed every dark corner and egress as he crept inside. “Hello?”
Sadie appeared from one of the horse stalls and gave an uneasy whine.
Apprehension pooled in Jake’s gut. He eased around the half wall of the stall and peered inside.
An elderly man lay on his back, staring sightlessly at the rafters. A bullet hole marred his forehead.
Chapter 4
Brady poked another log into the fireplace, then rose to his feet, groaning when his injured leg throbbed in protest. Rubbing his thigh where the bullet had left a deep gash, he clenched his back teeth and cursed under his breath. He hoped the damn cowboy was freezing his ass off, gasping for his last breath.
As he rubbed his hands together, warming himself in front of the fire, he studied the pictures on the mantel. Most were of the brunette he’d carjacked. Baby pictures. Prom pictures. Rodeo pictures. High school graduation. He had to admit, the girl had been a looker. Pretty face, hot body.
Brady grunted. So what if she’d packed on a few pounds recently? He’d do her. In fact, maybe he’d been wrong not to bring her with him. Six years in the pen was a long time to go without any tail. He shrugged and turned to hobble into the kitchen.
The power had gone out five minutes after he’d broken in the brunette’s house. At first he’d panicked, thinking it meant the cops had found him and were executing some kind of takedown. But one look out the window at the howling wind and whipping snow had eased his mind. Blackouts during winter storms were pretty common. Ice or tree limbs on the power lines. Wind-fallen power poles.
Brady opened the refrigerator and helped himself to a beer and leftover lasagna. He had no way to heat the lasagna without electricity, but even cold, the leftovers were a hell of a lot better-tasting than the glop he’d eaten in prison. Forking up huge bites straight from the container, Brady headed into the bathroom next. Surely the brunette chick had some kind of pain reliever in her medicine cabinet.
Setting the lasagna aside, he opened the mirrored cabinet over the sink and had to hold the bottles close to the fading sunlight from the window to read each label. The first two were for nausea, prescribed to someone named Marian Harris. The brunette was Chelsea, so maybe Marian was her mother? Whatever. He tossed the bottle aside and went on to the next.
Bingo. Marian also had oxycodone for pain. Thank you, Marian. He popped two and washed them down, cupping water from the faucet into his hand. Any extra pills he didn’t use, he could sell for gas money or food. Maybe trade for sex. With a gloating smile, Brady pocketed the bottle, reclaimed the dish of lasagna, and headed back to the living room. Things were starting to look up for him.
Turning from the dead old man, Jake shuddered and heaved a dejected sigh. Brady had definitely been here.
Tensing, Jake swept another keen glance around the stable, listening. He moved from stall to stall, searching, looking for clues that Brady might still be in the area. But other than Sadie and three restless horses, no one was around.
Because there were no footprints or tire tracks in the thin layer of snow surrounding the stable, Jake concluded that Brady had been there and left before the snow started in earnest. Had probably arrived at Mr. Noble’s within minutes of locking Jake and Chelsea in the trunk. Which gave him at least an hour head start to have been here and left again.
Gritting his teeth, Jake returned to the first stall. Kneeling by the body, he felt for a pulse, even though the man’s wound left little doubt he was dead. The old man’s murder shook loose old memories and left a gnawing anger inside him. He’d seen His share of dead bodies on the job, but being back in Texas, heading to his father’s hospital bed meant his mom was not far from his mind. Another senseless tragedy. His chest tightened with the grief he’d carried for the past twelve years.
A sense of urgency pounded through Jake. A killer was on the loose, and Jake’s lack of transportation, communication or weapon put him at a distinct disadvantage. He refused to cede the upper hand to a scum like Brady, but he couldn’t abandon Chelsea until he knew she was out of danger.
Sadie sniffed at her master’s hand, and Jake scratched the dog’s ear. “Sorry, girl. Let’s close this place up and get back to the house.”
After putting blankets on all of the horses and securing the stable doors, Jake led Sadie by the collar back to the house. Sadie gave a hard shake as she trotted inside, flinging droplets of melting snow. Jake headed back to the living room, dreading breaking the news to Chelsea that her neighbor was dead. Murdered. “Chelsea?”
The sofa was empty. The living room was dark and silent.
His gut tightened, and his hand reached instinctively for his gun. Which Brady had stolen. Silently, Jake mouthed a curse word and moved deeper into the house. Sadie followed him, giving him a curious look and a tentative tail wag.
Before he reached the hallway to the bedrooms, a thump from the opposite end of the house drew his attention. Sadie heard the noise, too, and hurried off