Cowboy Candy Page 9
She kicked off her sandals and pulled off her dress, reaching for a pair of sweats and a tee shirt. Dusty’s cologne had lingered on her skin, making her tingle all over. She wanted him. She wanted him bad.
Opening her dresser door she pulled open the top drawer. Inside, lay a large assortment of Dusty’s bandannas. She pulled one out and hesitated. “Nah . . . If I’m gonna’ to to this, I’m gonna’ do it right.”
She put on her pink fuzzy slippers and rushed downstairs and stepping
outside, walked directly to the hitching post. She busied herself for a few minutes then took a few steps back to admire her handiwork. The hitching post was illuminated by the glow of the moonlight. Tied to it were ten bandannas. All a different design, all a different color . . . but all signifying the same thing.
She grinned, feeling relieved. The waiting game was over. “Dusty, you’d better be ready. Your gonna’ get some strong and sweet like you’ve never tasted it before.”
She clapped her hands in delight and ran back inside of the cabin. Breathless, she leaned back against the door and closed her eyes.
“Dear Lord. . .thank you for bringing such a good man into my life.”
She went into the kitchen to get some milk and went upstairs, knowing that she was going to have a restless night. Walking into the bathroom, she pulled her hair into a ponytail and opened the medicine cabinet to get her toothpaste.
She barely had time to register the tall figure standing in the dark before he grabbed her. A vise-like hand was clamped over her mouth and her arm was pinned behind her. Suddenly, the light switch was flipped on. Her eyes grew as round as saucers when she recognized who it was.
Struggling for all she was worth, she was no match for Jack Carter. The snake in the grass had found her, but how? She tried to regain her wits . . .he was never the sharpest tool in the shed, somthing that gave her some comfort. She’d have to outwit the bastard, and she was determined to beat him at his own game.
He reeked of stale whiskey and cigarettes and was glaring at her menacingly in the bathroom mirror.
“So . . .miss smarty pants, or should I say . . .whore!”
He twisted her arm hard and she tried not to wince in pain.
“I s’pose your sleeping with that G.Q. cowpoke I saw ya’ with.”
“That’s no ordinary cowpoke Jake. He’s part owner of this place. Trust me, when he finds out that you’re here, there’ll be hell to pay.”
“Oh, is that so?”
She tried to stare him down, but his grip only tightened over her mouth. She was frightened to do anything for fear that he would cover her airway and suffocate her.
“Whether you did, or whether you didn’t. . .makes no matter now. What’s done is done. I’m here to remind you that I was serious. I told you never to even think about leavin’ me . . .and here you are, gallivantin’ about town lookin’ all pretty, while I’m groveling at home in a dirty house?”
He smacked the side of her head hard and she saw stars. He pulled some duct tape out of his jacket pocket. Her struggling only made things worse. She attempted to remain calm, but the look of sheer terror in her eyes told him that she was still a lowly, worthless member of the weaker opposite sex.
He tore off some tape with his teeth and slapped it across her mouth. Then he wrapped her wrists with it.
“Oh God, where is he taking me? Dusty, help me . . .I need you.”
He grabbed her by the ponytail and nearly lifted her off of the floor while she winced in pain.
“Sorry to show up on such short notice. Ruined your plans, did I? Well isn’t that just too fucking bad.”
He was still the miserable scum that he always had been, but now seemed like a Jekyll and Hyde, frightening her. He had always let accusations fly, however; he had a new tone in his voice, and it was pure venom.
“Now, you and me are gonna take a little moonlit stroll.”
He began to drag her down the spiral staircase to the front door. She tried to resist, but he was too powerful and she only managed to piss him off even more. She was a lot stronger than he could remember and he had quite the little spitfire on his hands. Determined, he pushed her up against a wall, shattering a framed photo and sending her crashing into a plantstand. He pulled her up by the duct tape on her wrists and she nearly passed out from the pain . . .while he dragged her down the staircase.
He opened the front door and whipped her onto the porch. Shutting the door behind them, he pulled her down to the river. Unbeknownst to him, she had kicked off a slipper in the soft grass near the path that led to the Diamond. She was positive he didn’t notice what she was wearing. He was so blinded by rage the only thing he could see was her ass in the trunk of his car heading back to Tennessee.
Her heart was racing and her feet stung as he dragged her through the ice cold waters of the Diamond. She struggled a bit, trying to regain her footing but continued to stumble and fall under the water as he dragged her along. Panicked, she was afraid he might drown her. Finally, they were climbing a grassy knoll and she suddenly found herself in the woods.
He pulled her along as if she were a dog, using her hair as a leash. Her foot was being ripped to bits by stones, gravel, and twigs. Her other foot sloshed in the soaking wet slipper that made a squishing sound with every step that she took. Her face was being scratched and scraped by low-lying branches. She tasted the saltiness of her own blood in her mouth.
The minutes felt like hours until finally, they reached an abandoned utility road. He grabbed her and forcefully shoved her into the back seat of a perfectly camouflaged car. He pulled out the duct tape and secured her ankles to ensure she could not escape, no matter how hard she tried. He pulled the carefully arranged branches off of the car and started the engine. She felt the transmission kick into first gear and heard gravel moving under the tires.
She sighed, miserably and her mind was racing.
“Why? Why me? Why is this son of a bitch doing this? I don’t love you Jack. The worst part about it is, you don’t love me, either. I’m simply a person of convenience that you are forcing into your life. I don’t fit the puzzle any more, why don’t you get it?”
She attempted to work at getting the tape from around her wrists. The sound of the gravel was replaced by a smooth humming sound and she knew that they were heading down the main highway to El Dorado. The radio was blaring and good old Jack was drunker than a skunk, but continued to drink from his bottle of whiskey.
She was laying on her side and managed to wriggle her hands to the jagged edge of the seatbelt buckle. Slowly and methodically she scraped the tape against the metal. Periodically, she felt the tape with her tongue, and finally she felt it was ready to give.
Suddenly, the car pulled over to the side of the road and parked. She held her breath and prayed that Jack didn’t pull off the road with the intentions of doing her any harm. She listened, but her heart was beating so loudly in her eardrums that she could hardly hear anything at all.
Jack was beyond drunk. She supposed that was why he pulled off the road. Maddy figured they couldn’t be very far away from the ranch; they’d only been on the road for half an hour at the most.
Jack was mumbling incoherently while he continued to drink from the whisky bottle. Before long, the only sound she heard coming from his direction was a loud buzz-saw like snoring and snorting. He had passed out cold. Lucky for her. Her head hurt and her body was scraped and scratched, but thankfully she was still alive and not far away from Grand Valley.
The tape on her wrists was finally cut all the way through. She pulled her right hand free, removed the tape from her ankles, and quietly opened the back door. She held her breath, careful not to make a sound. Jack was three sheets to the wind, and thankfully had no clue that she had escaped.
She started to run . . .knowing that she had to back track to get back to Grand Valley. She tore the duct tape from her mouth and ran for all she was worth. The main highway was dark and not a single soul was in sight.
Adrenaline pumped through her veins . . .she had to put as much distance between herself and the car while darkness was still on her side.
Losing track of time and distance, she began to slow down to a trot. Suddenly, she was illuminated from behind.
“Shit, that can’t be him!”
She was scared. She was tired. She wanted to go home.
She spied a lodegepole thicket and ran for it, crouched down behind a large rock, and waited. The approaching vehicle drove past and a wave of relief washed over her.
There was no way that son of a bitch would be awake any time soon. Still, she didn’t want to risk him finding her so decided to wait for the sun to rise before she made her move. Miserable, she hunkered down behind the rock and longed for the shelter of Dusty’s arms.
A few hours ago she was having the time of her life . . .she had finally found love. Jack Carter had another thing coming if he thought he was going to take that away from her. . .he’d have to kill her first.
She was never one to run from adversity, but there was no telling what that drunken fool was going to do. When she left him, she’d decided she was never going to look back. Now, here he was. Creating havoc and involving innocent people in his crazy scheme to kidnap her from the ranch.
He’d threatened her hundreds of times, however; she didn’t think he’d go to such extremes to get her back. Well, she wasn’t going down without a fight.
She steeled her nerves and tried her best not to let that jackass get the better of her.
“Don’t cry . . .don’t do it.”
A single teardrop escaped and she reached up to swipe it away with the back of her hand.
“Shit!”
CHAPTER 35 It was five a. m. and Dusty crawled out of bed and went to the bathroom. He had barely slept a wink, thinking of his Maddy. She was so special to him that in his heart he knew that he was wise to let her make the first move. He took a quick shower and dressed in a flash. He couldn’t wait to see her and tell her exactly how he felt. He walked downstairs and down the foyer that led outside.
He fired up the Jeep and took a deep breath. What if she rejected him? Worse yet, what if she’d changed her mind about them? He knew that she was fiercely independent, but hell, so was he. As far as he could tell, they were a match made in heaven.
All that heavy petting had him all fired up.
“Maddy, I sure hope you agree to marry me.”
He cruised slowly up the hill and rounded the bend that led to Maddy’s
cabin. His heart felt like it had wings and he found himself laughing for no apparent reason.
“Sweet and strong, here I come . . . what in the world?” He had spied the multi-color display of his bandannas and his heart did a flip-flop. It had taken almost a year and countless nights of frustration. He had never been the most patient man. Not until he met his girl. Now, it looked like she wanted him as badly as he did her.
He chuckled. “Guess the old drive-in routine did the trick, or was it Miss Mabel’s pie?”
He stepped on the gas and pulled to a stop in front of the house.
“Looks like I’m a little early, and I’m definitely gonna’ be late for work . . .or take a vacation day.”
He grinned and jumped up to the porch and knocked on the door.
“Tick tock, Mademoiselle . . .”
A few minutes went by with no answer.
He knocked again.
“Maddy, no need to play coy with me, I saw the bandannas.”
Where in the hell could she be? He looked at his watch then turned and spotted something pink lying in the grass. He ran to it and picked it up. That’s when he knew something was horribly, horribly wrong. He rushed into the cabin, looking in every room.
“Maddy! Are you home?”
Dusty’s heart raced, where could she be? This was not like her to play games like this.
Fun was fun, but this was beginning to look serious. Running up to the loft, he noticed that plants, a table, and some books had toppled to the floor. He spotted the broken glass and the damaged picture. He heard water running and headed for the bathroom, fearing that she’d fallen in the tub.
“Maddy? Maddy? . . . Shit!”
The bathroom sink was running and a single tube of toothpaste lay on the vanity. Her toothbrush was untouched. He looked down at the floor and noticed a small piece of gray duct tape stuck to the floor.
He ran back into the bedroom; but her bed had not been slept in.
His heart was in his throat.
“Fuck . . .somebody’s taken her!”
Fearing the worst, he hightailed it back to the jeep and headed for the house. Someone had taken his girl and he was hopping mad.
CHAPTER 36 Mabel sure had a funny feeling this morning. Her intuition had kicked into high gear for no apparent reason at all. Funny thing was, that so called “photographer” Clayton Moore hadn’t shown his face for the past few days and this morning, she’d found his key in the night drop box.
“Well, I’ll be darned .” He hadn’t been into the diner for days. He refused all housekeeping services. He had made up a lame story about being on a “working vacation.” He sure was a strange bird.
She got dressed and went over to room six, opened the door and was blasted in the face by the sickening smell of old cigarette butts and booze.
“Low life, scum-sucking . . . working photographer, my fanny!”
Upset, she opened some windows and stripped the beds to let the mattress air out. As she flipped off the bottom sheet, a corner of it caught on an old newspaper and it fell to the floor. No professional man would hardly treat a motel room with such disrespect.
As an innkeep, she’d seen it all. People always managed to leave the oddest of things behind. Shoot, one old couple had left behind sex toys, empty champagne bottles, and strawberry tops all over the floor. She had to grin at that one. They looked like Ma and Pa Kettle, looks sure could be deceiving. She refocused her attention to the task at hand.
“Shoot, I’ve had rodeo cowboys keep a clean house better than that dirtbag from the South . . .”
She walked over to the nightstand in the far corner of the room and picked up the newspaper from the floor. When she began to stand upright, something caught her eye.
“Aha! . . .scoundrel forgot his checkbook, I see.”
Miss Mabel picked it up. It had a blue plastic sleeve and she flipped it open.
“First National Bank of Tennessee . . .”
A look of overwhelming horror washed across the old woman’s face. Frantic, she ran to the office and picked up the phone. First she’d call Hugh, her on again-off again beau for the past thirty years.
Sheriff Franklin was as down-to-earth as she was. Had a hot temper. Could be soft as butter. He was hers for the askin’ and occasionally they did get together for an occasional drive out in the country. The man was reliable, and had keen instincts. A hell of a lot slicker than some low life scumbag like that Carter fella’.
Upon entering the diner, the usuals all looked up and noticed that something was wrong. They listened as she dialed up the Sheriff to report a possible missing person, then she called Dusty at the Mountain Rose. She hung up the phone, put two fingers into her mouth, and whistled real loud.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and the room grew silent.
“Listen up boys, we have a real snake in the grass in our midst. That travelin’ photographer is none other than Maddy’s ex. He’s probably the one who cut those fence lines down at the Mountain Rose.”
Their faces grew somber and their eyes flashed anger.
“Now, the way I see it . . . he came here lookin’ for Miss Maddy to either do her some harm, take her against her will . . .or both. He lied to me about his real name. . .”
She waved the checkbook over her head, and continued. . .
“The real name’s Jack Carter and he sure as hell ain’t no photographer. He’s just a vindictive, sneaky, son of a bitch from Tennessee!”
Th
e talk in the room went from whispers to pure rumble.
“Now, you don’t know the story and it’s her story to tell. All I’m willin to say is that son of a bitch came in like a thief in the night and tried stealing her away. She’s a big part of Grand Valley now. Hell, she’s one of us. What d’ya say boys, we go hunt down some Tennessee trailer trash?”
CHAPTER 37 Dusty had slammed down the receiver and spun around to punch the wall. He was shocked, he was madder than hell, and flashbacks of how fragile life can be surfaced in his memory. Hell, he’d only felt true fear one time in his life, when his poor mother damn near got killed when riding Diablo.
His father’s voice jolted him back to reality.
“Son, tell us. . .what did Mabel say?”
“She said that Jack Carter was in town, left his checkbook at the motel.
She suspected he was lying about his true identity and she was right. Miss Mabel’s gathering up a posse as we speak. The Sheriff is in town organizing a search party. I told her that it looked like there was a scuffle at Maddy’s place and I found this . . .”
He held up a muddy, grass-stained pink slipper in his hand. His father looked enraged and walked into the great room to unlock his gun safe. He came back into the kitchen while loading a double barrel twelve gauge. Dusty didn’t want to see his father get in any trouble with the law. Still, he held his tongue. Firepower was not going to be necessary by the time he was through with Tennessee Jack.
“Say, where’d you find that slipper son?”
Grace suddenly appeared in the doorway. She was fully dressed in her riding gear and was strapping a thirty eight to her leg. What was going on? Was his mother actually going to ride again?
“I’m going with you. . .and I don’t want to hear any guff from either of you, hear me? I’m ready to ride. That girl is like a daughter to me, and if he’s laid one finger on her, I’ll kill him myself.”
She gulped down some coffee and turned ot face them with a steely look in her ice blue eyes.
Both father and son knew when she meant business. If Grace was determined to do something, she didn’t want nor need the opinions of anyone.