Secluded with the Cowboy. Cassie Miles
know who he was. I played along. It seemed prudent to pretend I didn’t know his identity.”
“Smart move,” Burke said. “It might have saved your life. Did he mention any specifics?”
She concentrated, trying to recall through the miasma of fear and frustration that colored her time in captivity. “Mostly he talked about how much he hated the Carlisles. He blames us for every bad thing that’s happened to him. Losing his herd. The failure of his marriage.”
“Sounds like he’s obsessed,” Burke said.
“Exactly.” She nodded. “If he catches the sniffles, he’s pretty sure that the Carlisles infected him.”
“What else do you remember?”
“Threats. He told me that if I didn’t cooperate, he’d destroy everything I cared about. He’d wreak havoc. Kill the people and the animals I love. Burn down the buildings.” An involuntary shudder rippled through her. “And he sounded like he’d relish every minute.”
“His hatred gives him a reason to stay in this area,” Burke said. “The rational course of action would be to run.”
“He’s not rational.” But he was exceedingly clever. Though he hadn’t planned the kidnapping, he’d taken advantage of the situation. He must have followed Butch and Richter when they took her to the cave. As soon as their backs were turned, he’d grabbed her.
“Tell us about when he made those proof-of-life videotapes.”
She turned to Dylan. “I tried to signal you with a clue to his identity. I kept making the sign of the Circle M—Nate’s ranch.”
“We noticed,” Carolyn said. “But we misinterpreted the meaning. We thought your clues about Circle M referred to the SOF. They were the ones living at the ranch.”
She groaned. “That makes perfect sense.”
“Did you have any further contact with Butch and Richter?” Burke asked.
“They were the ones holding me when I met with Dylan by the creek. Both of them had rifles in their hands and were ready to shoot.”
“They partnered up with Nate,” Carolyn said. “Why would they do that after he double-crossed them? He snatched you away from them at the caves.”
“He must have promised them a share in the ransom,” Burke said.
Nicole shuddered. Nate had a way of getting people to do what he wanted. “Butch didn’t seem like such a bad guy. If it had only been him, I might have tried to escape. But Richter was mean.”
“You have no idea,” Carolyn said. “He was stalking Fiona, trying to get his hands on that damned ransom.”
“What happened to him?”
“He’s in custody,” Burke said.
“And Butch?”
“He was murdered by Richter.”
Butch was dead. Jesse had been seriously injured. The violence depressed her. And she knew it wasn’t over. As long as Nate was at large, there would be more carnage.
Burke asked, “What happened after you talked to Dylan?”
“Everything got confused. They locked me in the trunk of a car. I tried to pay attention and figure out where we were going.”
“What did you notice?” Burke asked.
“The smell. I think we stopped at the gas station in Riverton. Silas O’Toole’s place.”
“Did you hear anything?”
“Not until Nate came. He drove the car to his little house in Riverton and marched me inside. I was locked up in his closet. Gagged the whole time.”
The only positive thing about being stuck in a closet was that he let her come out and use the bathroom while he stood guard, gun in hand.
“After a day and a half, he took me back to the Circle M’s root cellar.”
“When you were at his house,” Burke said, “did you hear anything through the door?”
“I heard him on the phone.” She remembered his plain, ugly house. “He had toys for his son. A shiny red tricycle in the middle of the living room. And a new cowboy hat. Maybe they were supposed to be Christmas presents.”
“Did he mention his son?”
“He never spoke the child’s name, but he did talk about how sons need their fathers.” She remembered the whispery voice, eerie and creepy. “‘A boy needs someone to show him how to be a man.’ He said that more than once.”
Carolyn shuddered. “Is someone keeping an eye on Nate’s ex-wife and son?”
“Don’t worry. The sheriff is making sure that Belinda Miller is well protected.” Burke leaned forward. “Maintaining contact with his son gives Nate another reason to stay in this area.”
“I think we’ve got our answer about what Nate’s going to do next,” Dylan said. “He’s got a vendetta against us. He won’t quit until he gets even.”
“What do we do?”
“We wait,” Burke said. “It won’t be long. He’s got to be enraged about Nicole’s rescue. He’ll want to take action.”
Nicole didn’t want to think about Nate creeping around their property, hiding in the forests, biding his time. He was desperate for revenge. Somebody was going to get hurt.
As soon as she and Dylan returned to the bedroom, Nicole’s self-control began to crumble. She’d managed to tell the story of her kidnapping in broad strokes, leaving out the humiliating details. How could she ever speak of those things? The filth. Her screams into empty darkness. Her gnawing hunger.
It was better to bury those horrors under layers of silence, not telling even Dylan. Especially not Dylan. When he looked at her, she didn’t want him to see a victim—a helpless, terrified creature.
She sat on the edge of her bed, hands folded in her lap, hating the unassuaged fear that roiled inside her. Desperately she longed to forget the kidnapping, to erase every scrap of it from her memory.
Dylan sat beside her and wrapped his arm around her, cradling her with unusual tenderness, as if afraid that she’d shatter if he held her too tightly. Leaning her cheek against his chest, she whispered, “I don’t want to fall asleep.”
“Nightmares?”
“If I let my defenses down, I remember too much.” Her breath shuddered. “I might lose control.”
“You’re safe now, darlin’.” He stroked her hair. “You know I’ll take care of you. It’s going to be all right.”
Much as she wanted to believe him, her fears would not be so easily cured. Her nostrils flared as she remembered the stink of the dank, dark places where she’d been held captive.
In the creaking of the old ranch house, she heard echoes of mocking laughter. “Why does Nate hate us so much?”
Dylan tightened his embrace. His muscles tensed. “When I think of what that bastard did to you…” He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to relax. “I won’t let him hurt you. Not ever again.”
Downstairs, the front door slammed hard enough that they could hear it all the way up here in their bedroom. It sounded as if a herd of buffalo had charged inside. Someone called out Dylan’s name.
“I’d better see what they need,” Dylan said.
She understood that he was the boss, and the Carlisle Ranch was his responsibility. But she wanted