Wyoming Bold (Mills & Boon M&B) (21 page)

BOOK: Wyoming Bold (Mills & Boon M&B)
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He sank to his knees and just sat there, watching the structure burn.

He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer for their souls. He felt a wetness in his eyes, rolling onto his cheeks.

“Merissa!” he groaned. His voice echoed the anguish in his heart.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he could hear Merissa’s sweet, clear voice calling his name. It would haunt him forever.

“Dalton!”

He smiled. It was like an angel singing.

“Dalton!”

How odd, it seemed so real.

“Tank! Dammit!”

Tank. Dammit?

He got to his feet and turned around. There, black with soot but still very much alive was Merissa, in Carson’s arms. Clara was standing to one side, grimy, too, but smiling.

“Oh, dear God,” Tank whispered, and it was like a prayer. He went to her, took her gently from Carson’s arms and kissed her. And kissed her. And kissed her!

“I thought you’d died in there!” he whispered as he rained kisses on her face and hair. She smelled like smoke, and to him it was the sweetest perfume on earth. She was alive and breathing and cursing him. He loved it.

“We thought we were going to die,” she said wearily. “He’d already opened the valve on one of the gas canisters.” She coughed. “The fumes were choking us. We didn’t know why he did that, although we knew he had them wired to some sort of timer. He was looking out the window when the sirens started up. He’d just cut off some cord from a roll we had. He was going to tie us to the chairs. The gas was making us dizzy, and we knew what he planned. I motioned to Mama, and we covered our mouths and ran to the back door. We figured we were going to die anyway and being shot was easier than burning up.”

“My poor, brave girl,” he groaned. “Come on.” He picked her up and carried her to the paramedics, who were giving Clara oxygen. She’d inhaled more of the gas than Merissa had, because the shooter had made her stand at the window to watch the law enforcement people.

“Better now?” Tank asked when she’d had a few whiffs of oxygen and the EMTs had examined her and her mother.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Thanks,” she told the EMTs with a smile.

“What happened when you got to the door?” Tank asked.

“Well, I managed to unlock it. He was yelling at us to stop or he’d just shoot us. We panicked. I threw open the door. Carson was just a few yards away. He threw up the rifle and fired once. The man behind us in the house cried out. I heard him fall over a chair or something, I didn’t stop to look. Carson yelled for us to run and he’d cover us. We did, we ran like mad toward him. I think the man’s pistol went off, because there was a second shot behind us. Just seconds later, when we were barely away from the porch, the house blew up.” She drew in a shaky breath. Dalton folded her close.

“Sorry.” She laughed. “I’m still shaky.”

“You’re alive, honey, that’s all that matters to me. Go on...”

“Rourke had gone to check something out. We were eating chicken salad in the kitchen when we heard bumping on the back porch. I thought it was Rourke so we didn’t really pay attention. We went to watch the news on television. Just a little later, the man came into the living room with a pistol and told us to go into the kitchen and not make a move or he’d shoot us dead.”

She shivered. He held her closer.

“There were propane tanks just inside the back door. He’d set them up with some sort of fuses. He made us sit at the table while he opened the valve on one of them. He said he’d kill Mama first if I tried anything.” Her eyes closed. “We were scared to death. He was furious, cursing, raging because he couldn’t kill you and that sheriff in Texas. And he’d just found out that the death of a man he hired to kill a woman in Texas was being investigated. He said he’d poisoned the man because he botched the job. He said there was another killing, one that happened before all that, but we’d never have time to learn about that one, because he was going to kill us and then make sure his tracks were covered. He said his boss thought he was addicted, but he wasn’t, he could quit anytime he liked. He was yelling and waving his arms around....” She shook her head. “I thought he’d lost his mind.”

“It sounds like it,” he replied grimly. He smoothed over her soft hair.

“He said he was going to blow us up and leave in the commotion that followed. He said you’d never have another moment’s peace and he’d never be discovered. He was going to Texas afterward to finish up the business down there. He said he’d found someone reliable to kill the woman in Texas who saw him. No more loose ends, he said.” She leaned against him. “I was so happy to see Carson. But I was even happier to see you.”

“I thought you were gone,” he whispered huskily. “When the house went up.”

She smiled and kissed him. She buried her soft face in his throat. “We were just going out the back door when one of the propane tanks went off. I don’t know what caused it, but it must have set the others off.” She looked at Carson, who was still holding the rifle and listening to their conversation. “Thank you for my life.”

“You’re quite welcome,” he said, and smiled back.

Tank added his thanks. But he was too busy kissing Merissa to say much more.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“I
DON

T
 
UNDERSTAND
about the propane tanks,” Tank said a little later, while the women were being treated for the gas inhalation at the local emergency room. He and Cody Banks had superficial burns, but those had already been dealt with.

“From what Merissa said, he’d set them on timers,” Carson explained. “The first one detonated and triggered the others.”

“Yes, but how did the first one detonate?” he asked. “I saw a show once about propane tanks exploding. They shot a bullet into one. It just went straight through. No explosion.”

Carson’s face was grim. “It’s the vapor you have to worry about, when the gas is released and concentrated in a room. If it’s thick enough to hamper breathing, any spark will make it explode, even turning on a light switch.”

“Is that what you think happened?”

“Merissa said he’d opened the valve on one of the tanks, that they were having trouble breathing. He’d set the timer to go off and was probably counting on the fumes to cause the explosion, to cover his exit and kill the women. I assume he planned to tie them up first, but he didn’t foresee someone getting close enough to shoot him before he could follow through. Nice diversion, by the way.”

“Thank Cody, it was his idea.”

“Anyway, I couldn’t get a clear shot from the position I was in, so I moved closer to the cabin. All at once the back door opened and the women tried to come out. The would-be assassin was after them. I aimed past them, hit him in the shoulder, and motioned to them to run. He was stunned long enough for us to get clear of the cabin. I smelled gas before I even got as far as the porch. The women were coughing from contact with it. He fired after us, just before the explosion.”

“You think the shot ignited the gas?”

“Yes,” Carson replied. “When he shot at us, the spark from his pistol must have ignited the gas.” Carson shook his head. “He burned to death. Even for an evil man, that’s a hell of a way to die.”

“Merissa said that’s how he’d go,” Tank replied heavily. “She knew.”

“You take care of her,” Carson said firmly. “If you don’t, I’ll take her away from you and marry her myself.” He grinned.

Tank chuckled. He clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks for saving my life.”

“I didn’t,” he replied, puzzled.

“You saved her. Without her, I wouldn’t have had a life.”

“Got it,” Carson told him, with an understanding look. “You’re welcome.”

Cody Banks joined them in the waiting room. “Well, we’ve got a dead body and no way to identify it,” he said heavily. “Coroner’s working on him down in the autopsy room, but there isn’t much left to go on, unless his DNA is in a database somewhere.”

“Did he have anything on him like a cell phone?”

“He did. It’s pretty much toast. We’ll send it to the state crime lab and hope for a miracle. Just between us, I doubt we’ll get lucky.”

“We need to call Sheriff Hayes Carson in Texas,” Tank said grimly. “The shooter told Merissa that he’d hired someone reliable to take out some woman who’d seen him and had a photographic memory.”

Carson’s eyes narrowed. “I can only think of one woman who fits that description. You’d better make that call fast.”

“I will,” Tank said.

“The man was a certified lunatic,” Cody said angrily.

“What about his watch?”

Cody blinked. “What watch?”

“The one he was wearing...”

Cody was shaking his head. “He didn’t have a watch on his wrist,” he replied. “Nor a wallet. Go figure.”

“He must have stayed someplace while he was hunting me,” Tank said curtly.

“We thought he might have been staying in the attic of the cabin,” Carson added.

Cody sighed. “Well, we’ll give it a look, but the fire did catastrophic damage to most of it.”

Tank winced. “Merissa’s computer was in there. All her work.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Rourke said, joining them. He was grinning. “Forgotten already? I moved out her computer and most of their little personal keepsakes earlier in the day, and was going to bring them to stay at your ranch.”

“Great foresight.” Tank chuckled.

“I am known far and wide for my foresight, which is exceeded only by my striking good looks,” Rourke pointed out.

Carson rolled his eyes.

“We’ll need to contact the Red Cross,” Cody said.

“Why?” Tank asked.

“The women are going to be temporarily homeless...”

“They have a home,” Tank said, smiling. “We have three spare bedrooms.”

“Is that an invitation?” Rourke asked, big-eyed. “Because I’ve been sharing a room in the bunkhouse with him, and he snores,” he grumbled, glaring at Carson.

“I do not snore!” the other man said indignantly.

“Then you’re using a chain saw at night and you don’t remember,” Rourke countered.

“It wasn’t an invitation,” Tank told him. “You have to go home now. This case is closed. The would-be assassin is no longer a problem. Although I’m very grateful, to both of you, and your checks will reflect how grateful.”

“I didn’t do this for pay,” Rourke pointed out. “So don’t insult me.”

“Same here,” Carson added. He smiled, too. “Even famous attorneys do pro bono cases from time to time.”

“Some lawyer,” Rourke muttered. “Do your summations with a sniper kit, do you?”

Carson raised both eyebrows.

“If you ever get tired of working for Cy Parks, you can come and work for me,” Tank told Carson. “I’ll even build you a house of your own.”

“Tempting,” Carson said. “But Cy Parks would grieve for me.”

“He did an Irish jig when you said you were coming up here,” Rourke mused, “and he’s not even Irish.”

“Lies,” Carson said easily.

“I only lie when I’m asked to,” Rourke said haughtily.

Merissa and Clara came through a door, along with Dr. Harrison, who was grinning as he talked to Clara.

“Long time, no see,” Tank said and shook his hand.

“What an extraordinary coincidence,” the doctor said. “I brought a young man in with me who needed stitching up after a fight, and ran into these two.”

“He knows the resident on duty,” Clara said.

“I should, I taught him everything he knows.” He grinned. The smile faded. “I was sorry to hear about your cabin. If you need a place to stay...”

“Very nice of you, but the wives have the guest bedrooms all ready for them at the ranch,” Tank said. “And we’d better go. It’s been a long day for all of us.”

“I’d like to phone you later, if I may,” the doctor told Clara. “To see how you’re doing.”

“That would be very kind of you,” she replied. “Thanks.”

“It would be my pleasure.” He nodded to the others, smiled at the women and walked on to the desk.

“Ready to go?” Tank asked.

Merissa nodded. “I’m so tired. We both are.”

“It’s been an ordeal,” Tank replied. “But with a happy ending. Come on. You can ride with me.”

“You’re sure we won’t be imposing?” Merissa asked worriedly.

“How can you impose?” Tank asked with a smile. “You’re family, aren’t you?”

She looked up at him with her heart in her eyes. “Oh, yes. Definitely family.”

He drew her under his arm and smiled.

* * *

T
HE
 
WOMEN
 
SETTLED
 
in as easily as if they’d been born at the Kirk ranch. Merissa, who had a hard time interacting with most people, fit right in with Morie and Bolinda.

“It’s like I’ve known them all my life,” she told Tank when they were alone in his truck, driving back to the cabin to check out what was left of their personal possessions after the fire department and the crime scene investigators had done their jobs.

Clara had thought about joining them, but she knew Merissa wanted a little time alone with Tank, so she pretended to be too tired. Merissa had just grinned at her, because she knew better.

“I told you it wouldn’t be an ordeal.” Tank chuckled. He had her hand in his. He didn’t want to let go. He’d come so close to losing her, twice now.

“Your family is very nice.”

“So is yours.”

“Thanks.”

He pulled up just a little distance from the front porch. The kitchen was mostly scattered timber now. Half the cabin was almost intact, but there was a good bit of fire damage.

“Two deaths in so short a time,” Merissa said softly. “My father and now this horrible man.” She shook her head.

“But you and Clara are alive,” he pointed out.

She smiled up at him. “So we are.”

He got out and helped her from the vehicle. They walked up onto the porch and around to the back of the house. The ground was wet from the fire hoses. There were pieces of sharp metal lying around, and shattered glass.

“Careful,” he told her. “Don’t step on anything sharp.”

“I won’t...!”

He swung her up in his arms, laughing. “I’ll make sure of it.” He stared into her eyes with soft hunger. “I still can’t believe you’re here with me, all in one piece. I’ve never been so afraid in my whole life.”

She linked her arms around his neck. “You asked me to marry you.” She flushed. “I thought it was just because you wanted to, well, you know. And then you looked embarrassed and I said I didn’t want to get married...”

She stopped because he was kissing her. He did it very carefully, very tenderly, because she was still fragile from her brushes with death. “I want to get married,” he whispered, “more than I can even tell you. I wanted it then, but I got flustered and messed it up.”

She smoothed her hand over his hard cheek. “I lied. I want to marry you very much,” she whispered.

He carefully put her on her feet.

“Here.” He put a box in her hand, a jeweler’s box.

She opened it. There was a matching wedding set, rubies and diamonds. She caught her breath.

“I had that in my pocket the day I blurted out that we needed to get married. Ruined the whole thing.”

“No, you didn’t.” She took out the engagement ring. “Will you put it on, please?”

He smiled as he slid it onto her ring finger. “Will you marry me?”

“Of course,” she breathed, beaming up at him with tears threatening.

His lips nibbled softly at hers. “How soon?” he murmured.

“Yesterday.”

He smiled against her mouth. “Day before yesterday.”

“Last week.”

“Last month.”

“Last...year.”

The kiss grew longer and deeper and harder, and she moaned. That was when he stopped, because he could feel how weak she still was.

He lifted his head and cleared his throat. “We can get married. But we’ll wait until you’re feeling better before we do intimate things.”

She laughed shyly. “Okay. I mean, I want to do intimate things. But I’m still a little rocky.”

“I know. It’s all right.” He searched her eyes. “I want you. That’s part of it, for a man. But the reason I want to marry you is because I’m in love with you.”

“You are?”

“Oh, yes.” He brushed his mouth over hers. “When I saw that explosion and thought you were in the house...” He drew her close and hugged her, hard. “The world went dark. I thought I was hearing voices when you called my name.”

“I cussed.”

He laughed. “Yes, you did. I was thinking of ways and means to get to you, even if it meant finding my way across that dark line into death.” He lifted his head and sobered as he looked into her eyes. “I have no life without you. I have no future. No world. No home. You are everything in the world to me. And I will love you until I die. Even longer.”

Tears stung her eyes. “I will love you that way, too. Forever.”

He kissed the tears from her eyes. “Forever.”

* * *

T
HEY
 
WERE
 
MARRIED
 
at the ranch, by the minister of the local Methodist church. Merissa was still fragile, but she wore a beautiful couture gown with silk embroidery over white satin, with Brussels lace and a fingertip veil. She carried a bouquet of poinsettia, because even though Christmas was over, it was still sort of a Christmas wedding, and they stood in the same room with the enormous, beautiful Christmas tree blazing with light.

Rourke and Carson had been persuaded to stay for the ceremony, after which they were en route to Texas.

The assassin was dead, but there was a faint trail leading back to Hayes Carson and even Carlie. The death of the district attorney in San Antonio was the key. But if the dead assassin had already hired someone to take care of Carlie and her photographic memory, time was of the essence. It went without saying that he could hardly call off the hit now that he was dead.

Carson didn’t say much, but Tank noticed that he bristled when anyone mentioned the fact that Carlie could be on the hit list. For a man who hated her, he did seem conflicted.

* * *

“D
ID
 
YOU
 
CALL
Hayes Carson?” a drowsy Merissa asked on the first night of their honeymoon in Montego Bay, Jamaica.

Tank drew her closer, smiling. “I did indeed. He and the feds and Rick Marquez are working on leads.”

He drew the sheet away from her small, perfect breasts and bent to draw his lips over them.

“I hope they can save the woman in Texas,” she said in a shivery whisper, arching her back.

“Me, too,” he whispered back.

She pressed close against his warm, muscular bare chest. The thick hair on it tickled. It felt wonderful, just the same. She looped her arms around his neck. “And I was scared to do this,” she added, fascinated.

“I noticed.”

It had been a little difficult at first. Merissa, naturally shy even with her clothing on, had to be coaxed out of it with a nice glass of wine and a dark room. He smoothed his hands over her soft body with the same sensuous delicacy he used when playing the piano, teasing her into relaxing, accepting, participating in a feast of the senses that far surpassed anything he’d ever known in his life.

At last, when she was sobbing and digging her nails into his long back, he arched down against her hips and quickly overcame the small barrier that was barely noticeable except for a tiny flash of pain.

BOOK: Wyoming Bold (Mills & Boon M&B)
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