Stolen Away (Hearts of Montana) Page 20

  He inhaled deeply, held it for a bit, then released it, letting go of the burden he’d been carrying around all these years. His chest loosened, and it was like he could feel the weight lifting off his shoulders.

  Leaning down, he pulled his mother into a hug, holding her tight against him. “Thank you, Mom. I’m glad you were here. I love you.”

  She pulled back and tenderly touched his cheek. “I love you too, son. And I’m glad I was here as well.” Letting him go, she stood up and brushed the hay from her pants. “Now, what are you going to do about getting Emma back?”

  He laughed, not because what she said was all that funny, but because he felt lighter. And he could imagine a chance with Emma again, like it was actually a possibility. “That’s a good question. I hurt her pretty bad.”

  “Well, then you better think of something pretty good to make it up to her.”

  “You’re right.”

  “I’m the mom. I’m always right.” She pointed at his dusty jeans. “And as your mom, I’m suggesting you get cleaned up before you go try to woo her back. You smell like horse.”

  He took her suggestion, and after another quick hug and a promise to let her know what happened, he hurried back to the cabin. He took a hot shower, and as he was getting dressed, he came up with the perfect idea.

  Forget flowers and chocolate. Nothing says I’m sorry like a kitten.

  Emma loved the little gray kitten of Charlie’s. It followed her around when she was in the house, and she’d brought it over to the cabin with her on several occasions. Hell, she probably missed the kitten more than she missed him.

  Sending a quick text to Charlie, to make sure she was good with the idea, he pulled on his boots and headed over to her house.

  Thankfully, she hadn’t asked about what was going on with him and Emma.

  Maybe she didn’t know. She texted that she was staying over at Zack’s, so she wouldn’t see him that night, but that if he looked on the back porch, there was a kitty crate he could use to transport the cat.

  Finding the crate, he lined it with a blanket then put the little kitten inside and closed the door.

  After carefully inspecting the interior and clawing it around to his specifications, the kitten curled up on the blanket and closed its eyes.

  Gently carrying it out to the truck, he secured the crate on the floor of the passenger side of the cab, and headed for the Frank farm, rehearsing his apology as he drove.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Emma sat on the sofa, trying to read a book, but not able to focus on the words. Her thoughts kept going back to Cash, and how everything had so quickly fallen apart.

  Something hard thudded against the front door of the farmhouse, and it flew inward.

  She screamed, then froze in terror, not able to believe her eyes, as Leroy barged through the door.

  Too shocked to move, all she could do was stare wide-eyed at him as he crossed the room to where she sat.

  “What are you doing here?” She shook her head as if to clear the apparition in front of her.

  “Is that any way to greet your husband?” The sneer on Leroy’s face told her that he wasn’t feeling too loving toward her.

  “You’re supposed to be in jail.”

  “Thanks to you.” He wore a blue cotton jumpsuit and soft-soled shoes, standard prison garb. She hadn’t seen him in months and was surprised at the thick scraggly growth of beard covering his face. It made him look older. “But thanks to my brothers and a demolition derby style crash, I’m out now. And I’ve come to claim what’s mine.”

  His face might look a little different, but his eyes were the same. Mean. And filled with hatred.

  For her.

  Still stunned at his arrival, she hadn’t been prepared for the attack.

  With the speed of a snake, he struck, catching her off guard with a sharp backhand across the face.

  The hit knocked her from the sofa.

  She cried out as she crawled on her knees, trying to get away.

  Grabbing her ponytail, he yanked her backward. Screaming at the pain, tears stinging her eyes, she tried to remember what Cash taught her.

  But she couldn’t think, her body wrestling with her mind, as its only objective was to escape. To flee.

  She kicked out her leg, connecting with his ankle.

  He stumbled and swore, then retaliated by pulling her head back and smashing it into the side of the coffee table.

  The blow rocked her head, pain radiating across her skull, and stars spun in front of her eyes. Fighting through the pain, she swiped at the blood running into the side of her eye, and kicked out again, this time connecting with Leroy’s shin.

  He let go of her hair. She scrambled to her feet, toppling the end table as she pushed it out of her way.

  Ignoring the crash of the flower vase, she tried to run for the front door, but her heart sank as she saw Earl walking up the front steps of the porch.

  Her purse lay on the floor, the contents spilling out—she spied her phone, but couldn’t grab it.

  Earl was coming from one direction, and Leroy was bearing down on her from the other.

  She fought the panic rising in her chest as she raced for the kitchen, hoping to make it out the back door.

  Leroy must have anticipated her move—he cut across the room, grabbing her from behind as she ran into the kitchen.

  She could smell alcohol and the sweet acrid scent of tobacco on his breath as he pulled her against him and breathed into her ear. “You didn’t really think you could get away from me now, did you? Don’t you know you’ll always belong to me?”

  Cash had practiced this exact scenario with her, and her body reacted on impulse, rearing back and slamming the back of her head into Leroy’s face.

  He howled in pain, releasing her to bring his hands to his face. She shot forward.

  Her gaze darting frantically around the kitchen, she looked for a weapon. A block of knives set back against the wall, next to the ceramic canisters of sugar and flour.

  Sprinting forward, she reached for a knife.

  He grabbed her around the waist, yanking her back.

  Her fingers circled the handle of a steak knife, and she knocked the canisters off the counter as he pulled her backward.

  The crash of the canisters must have startled him just enough to give her the second she needed, and she slashed the knife across his forearm.

  “You bitch!” he yelled, jerking his arm back and spraying the counter with blood.

  He advanced on her, stepping through the mess of flour and sugar on the floor.

  She braced one hand on the counter, the other holding the knife out, readying herself for his assault.

  Not sure if it was the booze or the fact that she was fighting back, but she could tell he was off his game.

  Good.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “You think you’re gonna fight me? Is that what this is all about? You think you’re all tough now?”

  “Just leave me alone, Leroy. Get out of my house and out of my life. I’m not your wife anymore,” she yelled, trying to sound braver than she felt.

  “Do you think a little piece of paper is gonna keep me from taking what’s mine?”

  A smear of blood ran across his cheek from where she’d slammed into his nose, and his eyes had a crazy gleam in them. His hair stood up around his head, and he looked insane.

  The whole situation seemed insane.

  How could he have escaped from jail? How could he be here, threatening her again?

  Would she ever be able to escape this man?

  The day before, she’d thought she’d had it all—a new relationship with a great guy who really cared about her, a job that she enjoyed, and friends.

  All things that she’d never had before.

  A thought struck her. She’d never had those things in her corner before, either. Cash might be gone, but she still had Charlie and Zack, and Cherry and Taylor to count on.

  She tried a differe
nt approach, purposely lowering her voice to a calmer tone. “Listen Leroy, I’m sorry I upset you. You just startled me by showing up like you did. But things are different now. I’m different now. I have a new life and new friends, and a couple of them are on their way over here as we speak.”

  An ugly sneer crossed his face. He took another menacing step closer. “Yeah, the boys told me you took up with Cash Walker. Is he the one who’s coming over? ’Cause I wouldn’t mind showing him just how much I appreciate him taking care of my wife while I was locked up.”

  That hadn’t worked as well as she’d hoped.

  And the reminder that Cash wasn’t on his way over ever again had a stab of pain shooting through her heart that had nothing to do with Leroy. “I’m not seeing him anymore. I’m doing my own thing. I got a new job now, and I work for the sheriff’s wife. And they’re on their way over here now. The sheriff, too. So you’d better get out of here.”

  He laughed—an evil snicker that told her he saw right through her charade. “It’s real nice the way you’re so worried about me. And I am planning to get out of here. But I’m taking you with me.”

  The front door slammed, and Emma jumped, dropping the knife. Leroy kicked it away as Earl and Junior appeared in the doorway of the kitchen.

  Earl’s face was bruised, and his right eye was partially swollen shut from the beating Cash had given him the night before. “What the hell is taking so long? We’ve been waiting for you outside. I thought you were just gonna say your piece and get out of here.”

  Leroy sneered at his brother. “Yeah, well my piece is taking me a little longer to say than I’d originally thought it would.”

  “Well, your time’s up. We gotta go.”

  “Just when did you put yourself in charge of this plan? I say when it’s time to go. This is my plan, and I’m changing it. We’re bringing Emma with us.”

  “What the hell? Are you crazy?”

  Leroy shoved Earl back against the counter, pressing his forearm against his brother’s throat. “Don’t call me crazy.”

  Earl pushed back, his eyes bulging as he gasped for breath.

  Leroy released him, then roughly grabbed Emma’s arm. “If I’m gonna spend the rest of my days living in Canada, I want my loving wife by my side.”

  “Whatever, man. But for the record, I think it’s a bad idea to bring her with us.” Earl rubbed his hand across his throat, his voice hoarse.

  “She said the sheriff is on his way over, so we gotta get outta here. We just need to stop by the house and get the rest of my stuff, then we can head for the border.” Leroy pulled her through the house, and she stumbled down the front steps.

  There was no way she could fight all three of them.

  She just needed to go along with them until she could find another way to escape.

  Earl’s car sat in the driveway, and Leroy shoved her into the back seat then climbed in after her. They raced out of the driveway, heading for the Purvis farm.

  …

  Cash’s carefully practiced rehearsal of his apology had been for nothing, because when he got to the farm, no one answered the door.

  Strange. Emma’s car was out front. He scanned the farm for any signs of her. Maybe she’d gone for a walk. Unlikely, considering it was already dark.

  He put the cat back in the truck and crossed the yard to check the barn.

  No Emma.

  He knocked again and yelled out her name. A small knot of alarm formed in his gut, and he dug out his cell phone and called her number.

  The alarm grew as he heard the familiar ring tone playing inside the house.

  Screw it. He was going in.

  Ready to bust down the door, he took a second to try the knob, thankful to find it unlocked. Pushing the door open, he gasped at the scene in front of him.

  One of the chairs was tipped over, and the room was in disarray. He was no detective, but he recognized the obvious signs of a struggle. Emma’s purse lay on the floor, the contents spilling out, including her phone, which had now stopped ringing.

  The end table was overturned, and a vase of silk flowers lay broken on the floor, the flowers scattered, and a few of the pieces were crushed as if they’d been stepped on.

  He took a step closer, trying to make sense of the clues in the room, already praying that she was okay.

  “Emma!” Tearing through the room, he yelled her name. He knew in his gut that she wasn’t there, but he still grasped that bit of hope as he flipped on the kitchen light.

  His heart leaped to his throat.

  The cheery kitchen with its yellow countertops had been trashed. The coffeepot lay on its side, and several of the drawers hung open. The ceramic canisters of flour and sugar were smashed, their contents spread across the counters and floor.

  But it was the bright red spray of blood on the counter and the clear outline of a boot print in the flour on the floor that had him reaching for his phone to call the sheriff.

  Before he could place the call, the phone rang in his hand.

  Taylor’s number came up on the screen, and he tapped the button and held the phone to his ear, his gut already churning with dread. “Taylor. Do you know where Emma is?” he asked, not even giving his friend a chance to say “hello.”

  “I thought she was with you. That’s why I’m calling. I needed to talk to her and couldn’t reach her on her cell phone.”

  “She doesn’t have it with her. What’s going on?” Cash gingerly stepped into the kitchen, not wanting to contaminate the crime scene.

  Leaning forward, he examined the bloody handprint on the counter next to the spray of blood.

  It was only a partial print, a palm and a few fingers, but it was small, closer to the size of a woman’s hand, and Cash knew in his gut that it was Emma’s hand that had made it.

  And Emma’s blood.

  “We just got word that Leroy Purvis escaped this afternoon. He was being transported today to the state pen, but they never showed up. State troopers just found the transport van. It was rolled over and smashed up on the side of the highway. The one guard was knocked out, and the driver was handcuffed to the steering wheel. Both of their guns were missing, and there was no sign of Leroy or the other prisoner they were transporting. The troopers said it looked like another vehicle had crashed into it, so my guess is those idiot brothers of his had something to do with this.”

  Cash wasn’t guessing. He was sure of it.

  “I’m at the Frank farm now. Emma’s not here, and I haven’t seen or talked to her all day.” Now wasn’t the time to get into the specifics of their argument or that she’d been home by herself. Or that the only reason she was alone was because he’d broken things off with her the night before. “But Taylor, Leroy was here. I’m sure of it. The place is trashed, and there’s blood on the counter.”

  “Blood?”

  “Yeah, and a size dumb-ass boot print in the middle of the floor.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Taylor said. “Don’t touch anything.”

  He wasn’t touching anything.

  In fact, he wasn’t even in the house anymore. He was already in his truck, turning over the engine, and throwing it in gear.

  “And Cash, stay there. I’m heading over to the Purvis farm now, and I don’t need you in the mix. I already know what happened at the fairgrounds last night. Earl and Junior wouldn’t say who roughed them up, but I have a pretty good feeling about who the culprit was. I’ll send a car and a deputy to you. And don’t worry, we’ll find her.”

  He’d find her.

  He hung up the phone, his truck already barreling down the highway. It would take Taylor at least ten minutes to get out to Emma’s and another fifteen to get out to the Purvis place.

  He didn’t have time to wait.

  Images of the blood dotting the floor of her kitchen filled his head, and he prayed that he wouldn’t be too late.

  Feared that he would be too late.

  Too late to save her.

  �
�

  Emma kept a watchful eye on Leroy as he paced the kitchen floor, swearing and yelling at Earl and Junior, who sat at the scarred and scratched kitchen table.

  In their infinite wisdom, Earl and Junior decided to crack a few cold ones and make sandwiches while they waited, thus earning them the wrath of their brother’s temper.

  She sat still, trying not to draw attention to herself. Her hands were bound behind her back, and she reached them down the back of the sofa, using the metal frame to try to break through the layers of tape.

  It was slow going, but at least she was doing something.

  And one thing she had on her side was the fact that Leroy totally underestimated her.

  He was used to the old Emma, the meek and trembling mouse who took his abuse. Not that she wasn’t still trembling—hell, she was shaking like a leaf—but she wasn’t meek anymore, and she wasn’t going to sit back and just take it.

  She was going to fight.

  As soon as she had the chance.

  Her smarts counteracted the stupidity of the Purvis brothers, and the alcohol they were consuming didn’t add to their intellect.

  Like Cash had taught her, she analyzed her surroundings, looking for what she could use as a weapon. Trying to free her hands, she also listened to their plans, trying to calculate her own strategy for escape if she ended up back in the car with them.

  The sound of an engine coming down the driveway filled the air, and her heart leaped at the hope that it was the police. They had to know by now that Leroy had escaped, and only a bunch of idiots would go back to their own house.

  Good thing she’d been kidnapped by a bunch of idiots.

  If she were honest, she’d admit that she hoped it was Cash, riding in to rescue her, but there was no way he could know about Leroy’s escape.

  Earl jumped up from the table and crossed to the front windows, peering out the faded drapes. “Shit. It’s Walker. I told you we shouldn’t have brought her with us.”

  Emma’s heart soared.

  It was Cash. But how could he be here? How could he have known?

  Taylor must have called him, told him Leroy had escaped, and he’d come looking for her. Which hopefully meant the police were also on their way.