Secrets of the Lynx (17 page)

Paul turned slowly, sniffing the air. “Do you smell that?”

“Gasoline. We must have ripped open the fuel line or the gas tank.” She took a whiff. “I think it’s coming from behind the seat, not the engine compartment. Is that better or worse?”

“I have no idea, but we better find a way out of here.” Paul turned in his seat and checked the rear cab window. Through the glass he saw a man wearing a hoodie and sunglasses standing at the top of the embankment. “We’ve got an audience.”

“Maybe it’s the jerk who ran us off the road. What’s he up to?” Kendra said.

Paul saw the man pull something from his pocket. Acting on instinct, he yanked Kendra down. A heartbeat later the windshield shattered, and they heard two loud pops in rapid succession, followed by a third.

“Stay down!” Paul yelled, covering her with his body.

As two more bullets struck inches from them, they heard a whooshing sound, followed by a boom that shook the truck. A blast of heat and flame erupted from the engine compartment.

Raising his head slightly, Paul saw the hood had blown open. Acrid smoke was billowing up around the front end of the truck, and vile fumes began seeping into the cab through the vents.

“We’ve got to get out of here right now.” Gun in hand, Paul risked a look through the rear cab window, searching for the shooter, but thick black smoke obscured his view. As it was, he could barely make out the pickup bed, which was just on the other side of the glass.

“Our only chance is to break this window and squeeze through onto the bed of the truck—right into his field of view,” he said, coughing hard as the air became increasingly thick.

“Go for it,” she said.

“Hold my weapon,” he said, handing her his pistol. He twisted around in his seat, placed his back against the passenger’s side dash, and kicked the rear cab window with his boot heel. The glass cracked but held. He kicked it again, even harder than before. This time the entire window gave way, rubber seals and all, and fell into the bed of the pickup with a thump.

He took a quick look, but the guy had disappeared. “I’m going first,” Paul said. “If he’s still out there, I’ll keep him pinned down. Hand me my weapon.”

“No. I’ll go first. I’m the one with the badge.”

“I can get through the opening faster. You’ve got too many curves.”

Before she could answer, he took the pistol from her hand, then angled his body up and through the narrow opening, leading with his weapon. A few seconds later, he landed on the bed of the truck with a thud.

“Still can’t see him. I think he’s gone,” Paul yelled back, reaching for her hand. “I’ll pull you through, but watch the edges. The metal is sharp.”

“I’m gonna leave body parts behind for sure,” she muttered, trying to protect her breasts with a forearm as she wriggled through the opening. The second half of her posed another problem. “You’re built straight up and down, but I’ve got hips. It’s just not fair.”

“You’re doing great,” he said, standing on the flatbed of the truck and lifting her up and out.

Something in her pants pocket suddenly caught, but with a painful twist to her left, she managed to slip through.

“Thanks,” she said, then took her first good look at Paul. “Your arm’s covered in blood,” she said, her voice rising.

He glanced down at the long tear on his sleeve, and the scrape beneath. “Aw, hell, this is just a scratch.”

Paul pulled her into his arms and held her for one precious moment. Then something up front popped, and the truck shook again.

“Time to bail.” Paul took her hand, they ran to the tailgate, and together they jumped down into the sandy bottom of the dry irrigation canal.

“Keep running!” he said, tugging at her hand.

They were barely fifty feet away when a thunderous explosion rocked the air. The nearly simultaneous blast of hot air threw them facedown to the ground.

Paul covered her with his body as burning truck parts rained down all around them. Seconds stretched out, and each heartbeat became an eternity. Finally, all they could hear was the roar and crackle of the fire behind them.

Paul raised his head and looked back at what was left of his truck. “Goodbye, Cassie.”

“We’re lucky to be alive, and your first words are ‘goodbye, Cassie’?” She shook her head and pushed him off of her. “Men!”

Paul laughed and gave her a hand up. “Our luck held and we’re okay,” he said, reaching to wipe away a trickle of blood that was running down his forehead. “That makes this a good day.”

Kendra checked her weapon, making sure the barrel and action weren’t clogged with dirt, then removed her holster from her belt and emptied out the sand. Finished, she looked him over and smiled. “I look like something a cat dug up, but even dirt and blood looks good on you. How do you do that?”

He laughed. This was the side of Kendra he was sure most people never saw. The girly-girl who wanted to look good and cared about things like that even now, after crashing, dodging bullets, and almost getting fried. “You look pretty good to me, woman,” he growled playfully, pulling her closer and taking her lips in a deep, satisfying kiss.

This time she didn’t pull away, and heat blasted through him. As she drew back to take a breath, he saw her moist lips part. He took her mouth again, devouring her slowly.

She whimpered softly, then nuzzled the hollow of his neck. “No more. We can’t.”

“Death came calling for us today, but we’re still here. Celebrate life with me. No more wasted moments.”

He took her mouth again, not giving her a chance to protest. The way she melted against him nearly drove him over the edge.

“No,” she managed with a broken sigh and moved away. “We can’t wait around here in the open. We have to find some place safe.”

“The guy who did this probably thinks we’re dead, but you’re right. We need to leave in case he decides to come back and make sure,” he said.

“Any suggestions? Your friend Mickey’s not at home, so hiking back there is out.”

“How about Two Springs Ranch? It’s in the area and belongs to my brother Gene,” Paul said. “He’ll come get us and provide a safe place for as long as we need. I trust him—with my life and yours.”

Chapter Fifteen

An hour later Kendra was riding in the back seat of Gene’s four-wheel drive SUV. The Colorado state patrol officer had assured her that they’d sealed off the crime scene and that an ATL, attempt to locate, was out on the shooter and his green Ford SUV. The problem was that in this ranching community that was a common make of vehicle, and tracking down the right one would take time.

Gene soon braked to a stop and went to open the gate leading to Two Springs Ranch. He was still saying goodbye to someone on his cell phone when he returned. “Just checking. My wife keeps the bunkhouse ready for guests.”

“So Kendra and I are going to rough it?” Paul said, grinning.

“Not at all. You haven’t seen the changes we’ve made since you were here last,” Gene said, then looked at Kendra and explained. “The bunkhouse was initially supposed to be the rancher equivalent of a man cave, but Lori had different plans.” He glanced back at his brother. “So, should I get Doc Riley to drive over and take a look at you two?”

“Let me guess. He’s your vet?” Paul asked.

Gene laughed. “No, he’s an M.D. He had a big city practice, retired, then decided he didn’t want to sit around doing nothing all day long. He bought the ranch north of here next to Deer Trail Creek and donates time to a clinic in Dolores. He even makes house calls a couple of days a week.”

“I don’t need a doc,” Paul said, then glanced at Kendra. “I think you should have one look you over, though.”

“No thanks. I’m scraped up and bruised, but nothing worse than a bad day at the gym,” she said.

Paul didn’t argue. She was back to being Deputy Marshal Armstrong now, and Kendra would call anything short of gushing blood a scrape. He smiled. She was some kind of woman—his kind of woman.

The realization slammed into him. He was falling in love with Kendra—hard. He stared at her for a moment longer than he should have.

“You okay?” she asked. “You look...confused.”

“Nah, I’m just sorting things out.” The truth of it was he had no business falling in love with anyone. Until Judy’s killer was behind bars, his life wasn’t his own. He owed a debt to the past—one that needed to be repaid.

“I’ve got a bottle of twelve-year-old single malt scotch in the cabinet for you,” Gene said, glancing at Paul.

“Still the best painkiller I know,” he replied.

As Gene parked in front of the bunkhouse, Paul looked over at Kendra and saw the smile on her face.

“You into country living?” Paul asked her.

“I wouldn’t go that far, but this place is just so welcoming,” she said. “I love the white painted wood, bright yellow chairs, and just look at that porch swing for two.”

“That’s mostly Lori’s doing,” Gene said proudly. “Before, there was only a log bench and hitching post. Come on, let me show you the inside.”

Gene opened the door and invited them in with a wave of his hand. “There’s not much in the mini fridge here, so come over to the main house when you’re ready to eat.”

“Where’s Lori?” Paul asked glancing around. “Cooking up a storm?”

“Nah. She’s shopping in Cortez, but she’ll be back by eight. She left dinner for me, but, as usual, she made enough to feed an army, so you’re invited to dig in. There’s a batch of fresh homemade chocolate chip cookies, too.”

“Bro, she’s got you eating right out of her hand,” Paul teased.

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,” he said, then nodded to Kendra. “There’s a shower in the small bathroom at the end of this hall, but you’ll only get cold water there. The big bathroom with the claw-footed bathtub has cold and hot running water—and the tub fits two.”

Kendra nearly choked. “I bathe alone.”

Gene looked at Paul with raised eyebrows and shrugged.

“One more thing before you go,” Paul said, playfully shoving Gene back toward the door. “Where do you keep the first aid kit?”

“Bathroom cabinet. You’ll find plenty of supplies there. Lori insisted on it after Preston and Daniel put on the gloves and turned the corral into a boxing ring one evening. They’d decided to work out their frustrations after the fifty dollar pay-per-view match they’d been watching lasted less than two minutes.”

“Who won, Preston or Daniel?” Kendra asked.

“Neither. Lori turned the hose on them as soon as Preston got a bloody lip,” Gene said, laughing.

“Speaking of bloody,” Paul said, glancing down at his clothing. “Can I borrow a change of clothing?”

“Daniel keeps a few shirts and pants in the first bedroom. You and Dan wear the same size, right?” He glanced at Kendra. “You’re about the same size as Daniel’s wife, Holly. She keeps some jeans and sweaters in there, too. Feel free to borrow whatever you need. They won’t mind. I think there’s some makeup stuff in there, too, but I don’t know jack about that.”

Paul walked outside with Gene. “Thanks for coming to pick us up,” he said.

“No prob. Clean up and relax with the lady. I’ll stay away.”

“No need, nothing’s going to happen.”

Gene shook his head. “Maybe something
should
. I saw the way you look at her.” Not giving him a chance to answer, Gene walked away.

Paul expelled his breath in a hiss. Were his feelings for Kendra that obvious? He strode back inside and found Kendra running her hand along the tongue and groove, knotty pine walls.

“This is so beautiful,” she said, standing at the doorway to one of the rooms. “It’s real wood, and the grain’s perfect.”

“It used to be one big room with bunk beds and a potbelly stove in the middle. Lori has been pressuring Gene to make the place better-suited to adults. I can see she won that battle.”

“She’s done a great job. Look at this vanity table. I bet she made the organza skirt around it. It’s so pretty.”

“In a bunkhouse...”

“It’s extra special precisely because it’s
in
a bunkhouse. It welcomes women, not just men.”

“I guess,” he replied.

She glanced back at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Just sore and crabby,” he said, but as he tried to shrug, he winced.

“Is it your shoulder again?”

“Nah, I scraped my back when I crawled out of the pickup window,” he said. “I recall I was in a hurry at the time.”

“Take off your shirt and let me take a look. You might need that doctor after all.”

“It’s not that bad,” he said, but he shrugged out of his shirt anyway and set his fetish aside.

“Turn around,” she said softly.

As her fingertips brushed his skin, he suppressed a shudder—and not from the pain.

“You’re more scraped up than me, so you get to clean up first. Once you’re out of the bathtub, I’ll put some antiseptic on those cuts.”

“Then I’ll do the same for you.”

“My scrapes have sealed up. I’m fine,” she said.

He pointed to her shoulder. “Not really. You’re still bleeding a bit. See where your sweater’s sticking to the cut? You don’t want to get any of that soot and grime in there. Better take it off so we can have a look.”

He saw the flash of excitement that lit her eyes, and that look pleased him far more than it should have.

“Never mind. I’ll grab some clothes and go take a bath,” she said, then looked at her hands and winced. “Ugh. On second thought, I need to wash my hands first. Pretty disgusting, huh?”

“I have to disagree.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her gently. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, drawing back and enjoying the hazy look in her eyes as she gazed back at him.

“Why can’t I stop wanting you?” she whispered, but this time she didn’t pull away. “I know what I have to do....”

“You can’t be strong all the time. No one can,” he said, kissing her again.

“Not even you?”

“Particularly me,” he said. “I need...you.”

He kissed her shoulder, then her neck, loving the way she melted into him. “Even the strong need love, sweetheart, more than we’ll ever admit.”

She drew in a breath as he gently lifted off her sweater, unclasped her bra and kissed her breasts. “My knees are about to buckle. I’m not that strong.”