Treacherous Trails Read online

He didn’t answer as he left Owen to his pain.

  FOURTEEN

  Ella tiptoed to Owen’s bed and the sight of him lying there scalded her heart.

  Because of you... He’s here because of you. What if the hook had caught him an inch to the left, landing deep in his artery? Trembling started up in her muscles. She’d never thought of it before, never allowed herself to consider the dangerous work he’d done, the very real possibility that he might never come home again. And now her situation had almost cost him his life here in the States. How would it feel to lose Owen forever? Her throat went dry until she comforted herself with the steady rise and fall of his wide chest.

  He was alive, and she thanked God for it. She could not resist grazing his stubbled chin with her fingers, stroking the old scar that just showed along his cheekbone. She startled when his eyes opened, blue as a summertime sky.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  He blinked. “What time is it?”

  “Five fifteen or so.”

  “A.M.?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Tell me you haven’t been here all night, Ella Cahill.”

  She shrugged. “Okay. I won’t tell you.”

  He groaned. “Go home to Betsy. Get some rest.”

  “Stop bossing. I had to wait until the coast was clear to sneak in and see you. They’ve got some family-only rule except during certain hours. I tried to explain we’ve known each other since grade school, but they don’t give credit for that.”

  He smiled and took her hand. “I do.” Then the smile faded. “I’m sorry I lost the thermos.”

  “You didn’t lose it. Tony took it, at Reed’s request, I’m sure.” She forced a brave tone. “I’ll find another way.”

  “We...we’ll find another way.”

  She shook her head. “No, Owen. I’ll deal with it. I don’t want you getting hurt for me again.”

  His hand tightened over hers. “Don’t do that.”

  “Don’t what?”

  His eyes flashed blue heat. “Don’t treat me like I’m some wounded child. I’m a man. I make my choices and I’m choosing to be your second on this thing.”

  “Are those cowboy rules or marine rules?’

  He pulled her closer until she could feel his warmth, the intensity that shook her. “They’re my rules,” he growled.

  His body was battered and bruised, but the pride still shone bright and clear. The enemy bullets that carved up his leg also struck a near-lethal blow to his self-image. But he’d powered his way past a painkiller addiction with God’s help, and she could not allow him to think her concern was out of pity or that he was anything but the strong man she’d always known him to be. She stayed silent. He caressed her hand.

  “Sure you’re okay?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “I never want to have to explain to Ray that I let you get hurt.”

  The words doused any warmth she’d been feeling. Of course. He was Ray’s best friend, beholden to his marine brother to protect her. The kiss they’d shared in the truck, was just an aberration, born from a moment of crisis.

  She was his duty, nothing more.

  Don’t you forget it, Ella.

  Shoving back the hair from her face, she got up and looked out the window, fighting back a sudden urge to cry.

  He wriggled higher on the pillow. “Doc says I can go home Thursday, but I’m aiming for today, soon as my mom brings me some clothes.”

  “I won’t even try to argue. It’s like trying to stop a tank with a squirt gun.” She was relieved he’d unwittingly returned her to solid ground. Why did you let your heart wander anyway?

  He laughed. “Smart.”

  Yeah, smart, and that’s what she had to be to help herself, her sister. Time was ticking away until she would lose Betsy, her freedom—everything. The door opened and Ella sucked in a breath. Candy Silverton stood there looking as shocked as Ella felt.

  “What are you doing here?” Candy hissed, her white-blond hair impeccable. The heavy makeup accentuated the lines around her mouth and eyes and did not quite conceal the shadows of fatigue.

  “Visiting Owen,” Ella managed.

  “It’s family only,” Candy said.

  “Then why are you here?” Ella shot back.

  Candy raised a penciled eyebrow. “I get what I want. When you donate a million dollars to the hospital, you’re everybody’s family. Get out before I call security. I want to talk to Owen.”

  “She stays,” Owen said. “Due respect, Miss Silverton, you’re wrong about Bruce Reed. He’s trying to destroy Ella and I know that guy was involved in your nephew’s death. Truth is, I think he murdered Luke himself.”

  She sucked in a breath. “I won’t listen to that. It makes no sense anyway. Bruce loves me and Luke was my only family.”

  “And your sole heir?” Owen’s voice was low but the insinuation sounded loud and clear in the small room.

  “Until I...” She flushed. “If I marry, of course I will amend that so my future husband will be taken care of, but there is no way Bruce would do anything to hurt me. Since I met him last year he’s done nothing but shower me with affection, help me purchase horses...”

  “Did you have them appraised?” he asked.

  “Of course. Someone from the insurance company came out and Zeke Potter is going to examine them too. If you don’t believe me, ask him.”

  “But that’s been delayed, hasn’t it? And you haven’t gotten a thorough look at them either yet, have you?”

  She looked away.

  “It’s Reed’s pattern, Miss Silverton,” Ella ventured. “Luke told me he was doing some digging and he found that Reed had many relationships with vulnerable women, getting them to buy horses worth less than the paying price while he lined his own pockets with the profits.”

  “What other women?” Her lips trembled. “Tell me names. I know he helped Macy Gregory, but that was purely out of friendship.” She folded her arms. “Go ahead. What names, Ella?”

  The flush crept up her neck. “He didn’t get a chance to tell me.”

  “Before you killed him, you mean.”

  “I did not kill him,” she said through gritted teeth.

  Candy glared at Ella. “You have nothing to back up your claims, but it is an indisputable fact that you borrowed money from my nephew and didn’t pay it back, correct?”

  “I was almost ready to repay that loan.” She recognized the inadequacy of the words that sounded lame in her own ears. It shamed her again to admit her precarious financial condition in front of Owen.

  Candy sniffed and turned her eyes to Owen. “Listen, I just came to apologize for my stablehand. I heard that Tony went crazy and attacked you and I feel terrible about that. He wasn’t that great a worker, but I had no idea he’d go this far. I should have fired him weeks ago.”

  “He attacked me to steal evidence that would incriminate Bruce Reed,” Owen said.

  She gaped, hand fluttering to the scarf at her throat. “I can’t believe that.”

  “You’ve got to, Miss Silverton,” Owen said. “Bruce Reed is...”

  “A wolf in sheep’s clothing,” Ella finished softly. “Those were your nephew’s exact words.”

  She looked from Owen to Ella. “I’m leaving.”

  “Wait...” Owen called, but she had already stridden out the door. He sighed. “She can’t stomach the truth.”

  Ella swallowed a stab of pity. She understood how Candy felt. Hoping for that sweet, unconditional love that forgave all things, endured all things? How tantalizing it was to imagine, and Candy thought she’d found that in Reed. Reality was a bitter pill to swallow.

  Finally she realized Owen was staring at her. “You sure you’re okay, Ella?”

  “Yes.” She took a breath. “I have an idea a
bout who I need to talk to next.”

  “We. Who we need to talk to,” he said, mouth hard. “Who?”

  “Linda Ferron.” She saw his wheels turning as he tried to recall the name.

  “The woman Macy Gregory mentioned.”

  “Yes. She said Reed had some connection with her too. She’s local, in Rock Ridge somewhere. If I dig a little, I can track her down.” She held up a hand when he protested. “I mean, we can track her down. She might not have anything to tell us, but then again...”

  “She might. Okay,” he said, as if to get out of bed. “I’m coming with you.”

  “You’re not getting out of here until a doctor says so anyway.”

  His eyes narrowed. “And you think you’re gonna stop me?”

  She poked a finger into his chest. “Just try me, marine.”

  His mouth twisted in a look caught between annoyance and amusement as he eased back on the bed. The white of the pillow set off the brilliant sapphire flash of his eyes.

  Hospitals were not the right place for Owen Thorn.

  Smothering a heavy dose of guilt, she left.

  * * *

  Beside himself with aggravation, it was nearly dinnertime when Owen finally made his escape from the hospital. Though his mother had delayed bringing him clean clothes, he suspected as a means to keep him in the hospital, he found a way.

  “Thanks, man,” he said to Leonard, the hospital orderly and former marine who’d loaned him coveralls, retrieved his boots for him and given him a ride back to the Gold Bar.

  Leonard saluted. “Semper fi, Captain.”

  Owen saluted back, though it set off a circuit of pain in his shoulder. “Maybe it will take your mind off your leg,” he muttered to himself with some acid as he let himself in the house.

  Keegan looked up from the paper he was reading and checked his watch. “Twelve hours and sixteen minutes. You stayed in longer than I thought. You’re slipping, bro.”

  “Where’s...?”

  “Right here,” Ella called from the family room. She was sitting with Betsy, helping her hold a thick pencil. “B-e-t-s-y,” she spelled out as she helped her sister trace the letters onto white paper. “That’s really good. You can practically do it all by yourself.”

  Betsy nodded, bending to write the letters again without her sister’s help. He sank into a chair, biting back a groan and watched them, wondering why Ella made a point of teaching her sister the laborious lessons, until a long forgotten memory resurfaced. As a seventeen-year-old, he’d driven his mother to visit an elderly lady who had become too bedridden to go to church. She’d tended to the woman’s basic physical needs and then to his great surprise, his mom asked him to help position her in front of the piano. She settled the gnarled fingers on the keyboard and sailed on with a piano lesson as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He’d asked her afterward.

  “Mama, isn’t it kind of pointless to give her piano lessons now?”

  “She wants to learn.”

  “But...”

  “We don’t get to decide what people’s limits are, Owen. I’d much rather be a bridge than a door.”

  A bridge rather than a door. As Ella encouraged her sister, her long red hair glinted in the firelight. She’d turned away from some of her dreams for her own life to be that bridge for Betsy. The unselfishness of it made his mind boggle. He thought again of their shared kiss in the truck. Why could he still feel it long after the moment was over and gone? But clearly it had not affected her in the same way. He realized she’d drawn near, waiting for him to answer.

  “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  Ella smiled. “Just the usual ‘how are you feeling’ questions which you’re going to avoid anyway.”

  Now it was his turn to smile. “I was going to say I’m...”

  “Happy, pleased and proud,” she cut in. “You and my brother both said that for every occasion, whether things were falling down around your ears or not.”

  “Doesn’t pay to complain.”

  “No, I guess it doesn’t.” She patted his forearm and her soft touch drove away the pain for a split second. Ella’s attention was drawn at a grimace from her sister. She hastened to adjust the cushion, her lip between her teeth.

  “I’ll get you a new one as soon as I can,” she whispered low, but Owen caught the words anyway.

  His heart cracked a little. She didn’t have the money. She had no more steady income from her job and he doubted the meager insurance she had covered extras like the wheelchair cushion.

  You’ll have a new one, he silently promised Betsy. And your sister won’t have to beg for help as soon as we get her name cleared.

  His mother came in with a basket of laundry and sighed. “Owen Matthew Thorn, you are the worst patient that hospital has ever seen.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She placed the laundry basket on the coffee table and bent to give him a kiss on the forehead, her quickened breath negating the sternness of her tone. “I thought it would get easier when you were back in the States. Wrong again.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. Sorry I worried everyone, sorry I was slower than Tony. Beyond sorry I lost the thermos.

  “Never mind, honey.” She bustled to the kitchen and returned with a bowl of potato soup. “Eat something. You look pale.”

  He spooned some up with his left hand to avoid straining his wounded shoulder, hoping he would not spill. It gave him a new appreciation for Betsy’s efforts to subdue her uncooperative muscles. Tough, those Cahill women. Ella brushed the hair from her face, revealing the soft curve of her cheek.

  And lovely too.

  Jack joined them, handing his mother her laptop. He nodded at Owen, showing not the least surprise that his brother had discharged himself.

  “Now,” his mother said, powering up the laptop, “shall I tell you what Betsy and I have discovered?”

  FIFTEEN

  Ella was tickled at the look of pride that shone on both Evie and Betsy’s faces. Betsy might not fully understand what was going on, but she knew she had helped and that was enough.

  “We’ve been doing some digging on Bruce Reed,” Evie said as Tom came in to listen, holding a cup of steaming coffee and settling next to Owen.

  “Good to have you home, son,” he said.

  Owen closed his eyes and exhaled. “Good to be here, sir.”

  Pain grooved lines into Owen’s forehead and she wished again she had not drawn him into this dangerous cat-and-mouse game with Bruce Reed. If Reed had sent Tony to retrieve the thermos at all costs, she felt certain there was nothing he would not stoop to. There had been no word from Larraby. Tony had not been apprehended. Tony and Reed were two dangerous threats, in addition to the trial, which loomed ever closer. The sound of the jail cell door clanging shut echoed in her mind. Fear clogged her throat.

  Evie continued. “I’m not the greatest investigator, of course.”

  “You always managed to sniff out the trouble I got into no matter how much I covered my tracks,” Keegan said.

  Owen raised an eyebrow. “She just followed the smoldering trail of destruction.”

  When the chuckles subsided, Evie continued. “There wasn’t much finesse involved in our cyber sleuthing, I’m afraid. We just searched Bruce Reed’s name and read every tidbit we could get our hands on about the man. It is positively scary how much information is out there, cluttering up the internet.”

  Ella’s stomach went tight, desperate to know what Evie had discovered.

  “We stumbled across a few facts. First off, his real name is Dale Reed—Bruce is his middle name. He was raised on a farm in Ohio, which apparently he detested according to a biography I’ll get to in a minute. There’s a reference here and there, he left Ohio and eventually worked as a bus driver and he was involved in an altercation with a passenger over whi
ch he lost his job. Apparently, the passenger made some crack about him being short and Bruce threw him down the steps and onto the sidewalk.”

  Keegan snorted. “Definite anger management issues.”

  Evie nodded. “But here’s the juiciest bit.”

  Ella found her hands were clasped tight together. She forced herself to relax.

  “I read this part aloud a couple of times to Betsy and showed her the picture. She indicated it was the same man who entered your house.”

  The feeling of his cold fingers pressing on her throat made Ella swallow hard. So easy.

  “It’s a biography included in a newsletter. It indicated that Reed started working at a stable in Colorado, first as a groomsman and then teaching riding lessons. There’s a little paragraph bio about all the instructors and the pictures too. Here’s what it says. ‘Bruce Reed was one of eight children raised on a goat farm in Ohio, but tending to livestock left him wanting more. He moved to Boulder, Colorado, where he met and married Violet Wilder, a fellow horse lover. He has assisted at the prestigious American Gold Cup and the Saratoga Classic Horse Show competitions.’” She looked up from the screen. “But here’s the interesting thing. This was an old archived copy of a spring newsletter, but when I looked at the summer issue, his biography had been deleted and replaced with someone else, so I surmise he didn’t work there long.”

  Tom drummed fingers on his coffee cup. “Those are esteemed horse shows mentioned in there. The grand prize for the Gold Cup is $250,000. Think he really assisted with those?”

  “Not in an official way, but maybe attended to get close to women with money,” Jack said, startling Ella. “I think he drops names, implies connections that he doesn’t have to work out his scams.”

  “Like he’s doing with Candy Silverton? Talking her into buying the six broodmares?” Keegan said.

  “Maybe Candy’s the top prize,” Jack said. “If he can actually get her to marry him and gain access to her millions.” He frowned. “That is, if he’s really no longer married to Violet.”

  Ella stood and began pacing. “I’ll talk to Zeke. He was supposed to arrange to see Candy’s new mares. He’ll be able to tell us if she was duped.”