Cowboy Bodyguard Page 7

  He shot out his fist, connected with Cruiser’s cheekbone and heard the thwack of flesh on flesh. A shadow crept into his vision, and there was a sudden blow to the backs of his shoulders, sending him to the ground in a shower of sparking pain. He had enough left to roll and dodge the second blow. Viper, with a section of steel pipe in his grip, raised his arm to crush Jack’s skull. Jack rolled, shoulders bumping against the curb. He had nowhere to go.

  He tried to get to his feet, but Viper’s next blow landed on his ribs, driving him to ground again.

  “Kill him,” Cruiser said, panting. “Kill the cowboy right here.”

  Viper raised the pipe to unleash the death blow. A shot rang out. Both bikers ducked.

  “Let’s beat it,” Viper snarled.

  Jack’s confused senses registered running feet, a motorcycle engine kicking to life and the purring vibration of the blacktop under his body as they rode away. He should get up, but at that moment, it was all he could do to move air past his teeth and into his lungs.

  Shannon threw herself to her knees. “Jack...”

  He opened one eye. The other seemed to resist his efforts. “The baby...”

  “She’s safe with my daughter, back at the candy shop,” a familiar voice said. Val peered down at him, her white hair neatly braided and the rifle slung over one shoulder. “Sorry I didn’t plug him, Jack. Eyes aren’t what they used to be, and I didn’t want to risk too much more shooting.”

  “Good thinking,” Jack said, groaning as he tried to sit up.

  “Stay still. Let me see how bad it is.”

  “Not bad,” he said, gritting his teeth as Shannon gently pressed on his ribs. “Been through worse.”

  She huffed out a breath. “Sometimes I think your hat cuts off the blood circulation to your head. You should have run. Why didn’t you run?”

  He caught her wrist in his fingers, both to keep her from prodding any more and to reassure himself she was really there. She stilled, and he touched her cheek with his finger, a developing bruise showing from Cruiser’s slap. “Can’t let anyone hurt my woman.” He added a lopsided smile.

  “I...I’m not...” Her face went all cotton-candy pink. Her mouth opened and then closed, and she ducked her head. When she finally could look at him again, her eyes blazed molten honey. She leaned close, her hair tickling his forehead, lips grazing his earlobe as she whispered, “I am not your woman, and you will not get yourself killed for a pretend marriage. Do you hear me?”

  He closed his eyes and savored the scent of her that momentarily dulled the pain. “Yes, honeybunch,” he said, trying not to chuckle when she pinched his ear. “May I sit up now?”

  Shannon eased back. “I don’t suppose I’m going to stop you.”

  “You’re not big enough to stop me,” he could not resist saying.

  The doctor came out, along with his nurse. “The police are coming. Do you need an ambulance?”

  “Of course he needs an ambulance,” Shannon said. “Look at him.”

  “Naw,” Jack said.

  “And of course, he’s going to turn his back on any kind of commonsense idea,” she said, getting to her feet, “because he’s got the brains of an old mule.”

  “Hey,” he said, “smartest beast I ever knew was an old mule. Went by the name of Nacho.”

  “Come on, then, Nacho,” she said with a sigh. “Let’s get you to your feet.”

  His two brothers pulled up in their truck as he managed an upright position, leaning heavily on Shannon’s shoulders.

  “I asked Val’s daughter to call them,” Shannon explained.

  Barrett hastened over, with Keegan right behind.

  “How bad?” Barrett said.

  Jack went for a shrug that turned into a grimace.

  “I thought Owen taught you how to fight,” Keegan said, handing him his hat. “You look like a half-chewed rabbit.”

  “Thanks,” Jack said. He took a breath and pulled away from Shannon. “I’m good. Just need some ice and an aspirin.”

  “And a CAT scan, X-ray and possibly a couple of sutures,” Shannon chimed in. “None of which he will allow, I’m sure.”

  But Jack wasn’t listening. His brothers were working on moving the baby’s car seat to Barrett’s truck, while Keegan called a friend who could hook them up with new tires for Jack’s vehicle. He stared toward the road where Viper and Cruiser had fled.

  They’d be back, he knew.

  And now that blood had been spilled, he understood it wouldn’t end until one of them was on the ground.

  It’s gonna be you, Cruiser. You’ll never hurt Shannon again.

  His promise.

  And he would keep it.

  EIGHT

  How had they known? Shannon alternated between out-and-out terror at what could have happened at the clinic and a burning need to solve the mystery. Cruiser and Viper knew they would be at the clinic with Annabell. Had they been following without Shannon or Jack noticing? Had someone at the ranch heard Evie passing along the number? Or was it a patron at the inn? The three bikers came to mind, but it made no sense that they would tip off their enemy gang. Larraby promised to see what he could come up with. In a small town like Gold Bar, there couldn’t be too many places for two bikers to hide.

  Shannon and Annabell accompanied the Thorn brothers back to the ranch.

  She would have preferred to return to the inn, but Evie had been informed of the attack and would mount a full-out posse if Jack wasn’t brought immediately home. Shannon did not want to take her eyes off him, anyway, since he was too hardheaded to seek the proper medical treatment. Hard head, soft heart.

  Her stomach tightened as she remembered.

  Can’t let anyone hurt my woman.

  The man was also delusional.

  My woman.

  Like she was some sort of horse to be owned. It was insulting, she decided, and when he was somewhat recovered, she intended to tell him so.

  Keegan arrived with the antibiotics for Annabell, and she attempted to get a dose of the pink stuff down the baby’s throat with the plastic syringe. Annabell squirmed and thrashed. The liquid dribbled down her neck and stained her clothes.

  “Just one minute is all I need, Annabell,” she said. “Come on, sweetie. You can do this.” She shot a look at Keegan. “Can you hold her still?”

  “Uh, well,” he said, backing toward the door. “I gotta go, uh, saddle something.” The door bumped closed behind him.

  She sighed. “Coward.”

  “Bring her to me,” Jack called. He was lying on his back, on the sofa, with an ice pack on his eye and another on his ribs.

  “You’re in no condition to help.”

  His tone was peevish. “Got two arms, don’t I?”

  Desperate, she carried Annabell to Jack and nestled her next to him. He cradled her to his side and started to sing the horsey song again, jiggling her softly to the beat of the music. Once again, she quieted, at least enough that Shannon was able to squirt the medicine down her throat.

  “I’ll sit up in the rocker and hold her,” he said, grimacing as he eased upward.

  “No, you won’t.”

  “I’m okay. Just give me a minute.”

  “You are a mess, and you shouldn’t be...”

  “Jack, listen to Shannon,” Evie said as she marched into the room, handing him a fresh ice pack.

  “What? You’re on her side now?”

  “I’m on the side of common sense. Both of you quiet down and give me that baby. We’re going to rock on the porch swing until she falls asleep. I’ve got the portable crib set up in the guest room.” With that, Evie took the infant, wrapped her in a blanket and sailed out the door.

  Shannon sank into a chair. “We can’t go on like this.”

  “You’re right. You should move in here.”
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  She gaped. “What?”

  “The inn’s not safe. Someone has ears there, figured out we were going to the clinic. You should stay here, at the ranch, in my room.” He colored. “I’ll sleep in the guest room, of course.”

  She felt the force of being sucked back into Jack’s orbit, the ranch, his small-town life. Her future in Los Angeles was edging farther away. It wasn’t going to happen. “No. I’m fine at the inn with Annabell.”

  “You’re not. It’s best for you and the baby here.”

  “Don’t tell me what’s best,” she said. “You don’t have the right.”

  His gaze raked the ceiling, and she saw him settle into that calm place he occupied when she was at her angriest. “I realize I don’t have the right to give you orders, Shan. I’m not trying to do that. I want you and Annabell to be safe. And here, at the ranch, I’m one of four brothers who know how to fight and shoot, not to mention my mom, who is a better shot than all of us.”

  She didn’t want to look at him, to connect with those exquisite blue eyes, so she kept her head down, staring at her fingers, which were twisted together in her lap. A wall of fear and frustration slammed up against her and drove out her last drop of energy. “I’m not part of this world anymore, Jack. Don’t ask me to be.”

  He was silent a moment. “I’m being practical. I told you, I understand this is all pretend. Not trying to rope you here.”

  “But you did before,” she said quietly, finally looking at the cut across the bridge of his nose and the swollen lower lip. “The marriage. You wanted me here with you, and you figured marriage would seal the deal, that I’d come home from med school and settle in Gold Bar.”

  “It’s supposed to seal the deal,” he snapped. “Marriage is joining two lives together, and that means living in the same county, at least, doesn’t it?”

  “It wasn’t just about proximity, and you know it. I wanted different things than you, and I still do.” She got up and paced. “I want a career that heals people. I want to be the best at what I do, being a doctor. I don’t know if I will ever be able to devote enough time for a proper relationship, or children. I told you that right up front.”

  “I never expected you to give up your career. I’d be willing to leave the ranch, just like I said when we got married, if that’s what you needed.”

  “Leaving Gold Bar would be like cutting off your arm. Why would you agree to that?”

  His mouth twitched. “Because I thought you were worth it.”

  Worth it. An ache started up behind her breastbone, the ache left by her father, whom she could never please, and a town where she would never belong. It was fed by long days, longer nights and years that flew by before she could catch hold of them. “But you don’t think so anymore, do you?” she asked.

  “Shan,” he said, voice barely a whisper. “You’re worth so much more than you can ever imagine, to me and to God.”

  Tears blurred her vision. “I’m not wife material, and I should never have agreed to get married. It’s the worst mistake I ever made. I’m sorry I hurt you. I truly am.”

  He cocked his head, generating another wince as the movement aggravated some tortured muscle or nerve. “Know what, Shan?”

  “What?”

  “You’re the smartest woman I know, and for all that book learning, you’re just plain wrong about the big stuff.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Are you trying to make me mad?”

  “Nope. Trying to keep you safe. You and Annabell are moving in here tonight because it’s the smart thing to do. End of discussion.” He grabbed his Stetson from the coffee table, settled back onto the sofa and covered his eyes with his hat. “Been reading this book on babies, and it says the parents ought to nap when the kiddos do. Sounds like a good plan to me.”

  Reading a baby book? She was rendered speechless.

  In a matter of moments, he was breathing deeply, one booted leg crossed over the other, fingers laced across his flat stomach.

  “Jack Thorn, you are incorrigible.”

  She thought she saw the flicker of a smile curve across his lips as he settled deeper into sleep.

  * * *

  Jack knew it was hard for Hazel to have her daughter and temporary grandchild departing for the ranch, but she came around in the end, thanks to Oscar’s support.

  “We can’t keep them safe here, sis, with all the guests milling around.” Oscar’s thick brows crimped. “Denny, over in Rock Ridge, called and said the Aces have plumb taken over the town there. Headed our way next to get to that Wheels Up event. Larraby’s put all his cops on mandatory recall, so it’s clear he’s expecting trouble.”

  Hazel clutched her daughter’s shoulders. “Be careful. Don’t go out anywhere on your own. Promise.”

  “I promise,” Shannon said. “But I hate to leave you with Tiffany, Donny and what’s his name here on the property. They’re dangerous.”

  “So far, all they’ve done is rent a room, but we’re keeping a close eye on them. Jack’s right. You’re going to be safer at the ranch,” Hazel said.

  Shannon shot him an uncertain look as he tried not to show the pain ricocheting through his ribs and skull. “Only temporary,” he said. “Dina should be calling anytime now.”

  Hazel and Oscar walked them to Jack’s truck, which was now sporting a new set of tires. It was pure agony on his ribs to yank open the door for Shannon, but he did. She offered a smile and left him there, snagging the keys from his hand and skirting around to the driver’s side.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “You look like you’re about to fall over. I’m driving.” She climbed behind the wheel, leaving him sputtering like a teakettle on the boil. “Well?” she countered. “Do you need Uncle Oscar to give you a boost, or can you manage to get into the truck on your own?”

  Muttering, he climbed into the passenger seat, slamming the door for good measure. Both Hazel and Oscar didn’t bother to hide their smiles as Shannon started the engine.

  He intended to keep better hold of his keys in the future. Why, he wondered, did she have to look so beautiful along with looking so smug? Still miffed, he tried and failed to find a comfortable sitting position.

  They were almost to the narrow exit of the fenced lot when Tiffany stepped out in front of them. Shannon slammed to a halt, and Jack bit back a groan of pain.

  Tiffany walked to the driver’s side and rapped a knuckle on the window.

  “Don’t open it,” he said.

  “It’s not like she’s going to try anything here,” Shannon said, rolling down the window halfway, but keeping the engine running. “What do you want?”

  “Heard you were in town, looking for trouble.” Her gaze flicked over Jack’s battered face, and she grinned. “I see it found you. You land any punches or just take them?”

  He didn’t rise to the taunt.

  She noted the duffel bag sitting between them. “Running, then?”

  “We’re not running anywhere,” Jack said.

  “You should. I heard that the Tide thinks you’re hiding a girl from them, Dina Brown, and you’re keeping the baby for her.” She peered into the back seat.

  “We’re not, but why are you so interested?” Shannon demanded. “What’s our business got to do with you?”

  “Your business brought the Tide onto our turf. That’s gonna start a war with the Aces. Now, I enjoy a good fight, mind you, but Pinball’s not gonna back down without blood.”

  “Your Pinball? The one that owns you?” Jack did not bother to keep the sarcasm from his tone.

  “Pinball leads the Aces. He’s our general.”

  Jack leaned forward, and his muscles paid the price. “Tell General Pinball we have nothing to do with Dina Brown or her baby.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  He waved an impatient hand. “Speak your mind,”
he said. “You didn’t stop us to chat. Say what you came to say.”

  Tiffany ran a finger over the window glass, releasing a squeak that set his teeth on edge. “If it’s true, and that baby is Dina’s, give her to me.”

  Shannon stared. “You have to be kidding me.”

  “The baby and the girl belong to the Tide,” Tiffany repeated, eyes flat as wet river rock. “But we can hide them until the Tides give up and go home to Los Angeles. No war. No mess. No fuss.”

  Shannon was openmouthed, mute.

  “So, you’re here on Pinball’s behalf, then?” Jack said, biting back his own fury.

  Tiffany shifted. “He doesn’t want a war, but that’s not for public knowledge.”

  Jack nodded. “Oh, I get it. Because if it became public knowledge that you were trying to manipulate things, Pinball would look weak, like he’s scared to go to war with the Tide.”

  She slapped a palm on the glass, and Shannon jumped. “He ain’t scared of nothing.”

  “Swell for him,” Jack said. “He must be quite a guy. You can deliver a message for me. The baby is ours, end of story. If you mess with our child, you will find out exactly what a war looks like, and it will be the kind of war you cannot win. Do you understand me?”

  Tiffany’s mouth hardened to a thin line.

  “Give Pinball the message,” Jack said. “We’re leaving now.”

  Shannon rolled the window up and eased the truck out of the lot. He didn’t look in the rearview—didn’t have to. Tiffany was still standing there, staring, probably weighing how to communicate their unfriendly message to her boss.

  His pulse was tattooing in his ears, and he was hot all over. He rolled down the window to let in the spring breeze, and he sucked in a lungful of it before turning back to Shannon. She was pale, eyes shadowed with fatigue, desperately in need of a good night’s sleep.

  She’d get it at the Gold Bar.

  He reached out and touched her shoulder, massaging gently where her neck met the graceful curve of her collarbone, fingertips feeling the rapid rise and fall of her breathing.