“Even if she didn’t pull the trigger herself, Libby thought it was fine to kill my family in order to take the ranch.” Bear’s eyes were hard, his expression unforgiving. “You’re right. There’s no place for either of them at Valhalla.”
“I’ll talk to Sahdev. See how long Libby needs to recover before it’s safe to send her and Jerrilyn on their way. Until then, we got secure rooms in the back of the house where we can keep the old woman.” Maybe it was petty, but I liked the notion of locking Jerrilyn away in the same room that had held Sahdev. Give her a taste of her own medicine. I stood and looked at Bear. “Let’s go tell them our decision.”
I knocked on the door to Libby’s room. Nyx opened the door and gestured for us to come in. Libby was propped up against a pile of pillows, holding the sleeping baby in her arms. Jerrilyn, still zip tied to the chair, scowled at us.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to hold my granddaughter.” She tugged on the wrist restraints, bringing home her point.
“I’ll cut you loose for fifteen minutes.” I flicked open my knife and cut the plastic ties.
Bear approached the bed. “Do you mind if she holds the baby?” he asked Libby.
“It’s okay.”
Bear took the bundle from Libby and gently peeled back the blanket to peer at the baby’s face. The baby closed her tiny fist around his finger. Bear’s expression grew soft. “She’s a beautiful little girl. What’d you name her?”
“Emily. After my sister.”
“Hi there, sweetie,” he said.
Bear handed Emily to Jerrilyn. She touched the baby’s nose and the blond curls on top of her head. “I told you.” She raised a smug face to Libby. “All that heartburn meant that the baby’d be born with a full head of hair. She looks just like Boyd did when he was brand new.”
“You can’t stay.” I got right to the point.
“You’ll let us leave?” Jerrilyn asked. “You’re not planning on killing us?”
“Don’t make a habit of killing women,” I said. “Unless they give me no choice. We’ll give you a car, a full tank of gas, food and water, and all the things you’ve set aside for the baby.”
“This is a one-time act of clemency,” Bear added. “Don’t show your faces around these parts again.”
“You’d send two defenseless women out into the world without a weapon?” Jerrilyn asked in a phony, helpless voice that raised my hackles.
Bear snorted. “Lady, you’re a far cry from helpless. And you’re smart enough to know we mean it. You’ll stay gone.”
“We will,” Libby spoke up. “I’m from Idaho Falls. I just want to go home. I promise you’ll never see us again.”
“All right,” I said. “Soon as the doc says it’s safe for you and the baby to travel, you’ll go.”
“One thing I gotta know,” Bear said. “Was it my people you buried in the family cemetery, or yours?”
“Yours,” Jerrilyn said. “Boyd wanted to dump the bodies in a ravine, but Libby cried—you know, pregnancy hormones—and asked him to give them a proper burial. We had the boys dig a grave and put the four of them in the ground.”
“Four?” Bear startled. “What do you mean four?”
Jerrilyn shrugged. “A middle-aged couple and two hired men.”
“Those were the only people you found on the ranch?”
“Yes.”
“What’s going on?” I asked Bear.
“When I left for Wyoming to buy a horse, my younger brother was here,” Bear said. “If he’d died from the flu while I was gone, my parents would’ve buried him in the family plot. Put up a marker. They didn’t. The brigade didn’t kill him. So...where’s Finn?”
FORTY-EIGHT
Kenzie
Six weeks later
The screen door burst open and Hannah dashed onto the porch, her black hair flying around her shoulders as she danced with excitement. “Come on. Hurry up,” she called into the house.
“What’s up?” I asked, looking up from my book, the tale of a lusty eighteenth-century Highland lord and the dainty English beauty he kidnapped.
A few days after Tuck’s attack, when I was growing restless from enforced bedrest, Bear had knocked on my door. “Thought you might like these,” the laconic cowboy said. “I found them in the back of my mama’s closet.” He deposited a box of books on the foot of my bed.
I eagerly delved into the box. Bear’s mother had a secret stash of old bodice rippers, a positive treasure trove of politically incorrect, alpha-male excess. Vikings. Highland warriors. Medieval knights. Arrogant dukes. Pirates. A Wild West sheriff or two. Clearly, Bear’s mother was a woman after my own heart; I wish I could have met her.
I placed a finger in the book to hold my place. “What’s up?” I repeated.
“Bear promised to give me another horseback riding lesson, and Nyx said she’d watch.”
Bear ambled onto the porch, followed by Nyx. He nodded at me. “Afternoon, Kenzie.”
“Hi, Bear.”
“Come on.” Hannah tugged on his sleeve.
“No complaints about mucking out the stalls afterwards,” Bear reminded her, a sore subject after their last lesson.
“I promise.” She fished in her pocket and held up the contents. “I brought cotton balls to stuff up my nose and eucalyptus gel to rub underneath. I’m all set.”
Bear’s brow puckered, as if he couldn’t decide if she was serious. Finally, shrugging, he led the way toward the stables, Hannah on his heels, chatting eagerly.
“Is she yanking his chain?” Nyx asked, laughing.
“I’m not sure,” I confessed. “Last week she asked him to teach her how to ‘lasso a varmint.’ You should have seen his face. Bear is always so...unruffled. I think she likes trying to get a rise out of him.”
Nyx stared after their retreating figures. “She’s not the only one. I’d like to get a rise out of the big guy myself.”
“Nyx!”
“What?” She rolled her eyes. “You think I should be the only woman around here not getting some?”
What could I say to that?
Hannah turned around and waved at us. “Nyx, you promised.”
“That’s my cue.” She dropped a kiss on my upturned cheek. “Later, babe.” Nyx strolled across the yard, putting a little extra swing in her hips.
I smiled to myself. For all his old-fashioned manners and aw-shucks cowboy charm, Bear Rasmussen had been a rodeo star and no stranger to adoring females. At the last Round-Up, Kyle and I had watched him in action, trailing a bevy of admiring fans. Nyx might be surprised to discover that he was more than capable of handling her charm offensive.
I settled back into the porch swing and opened my book. Half an hour later, a silver pickup loaded with firewood parked in front of the house. Ripper and Kyle climbed out and headed toward the house, Hector on their heels.
“Looks like you guys got quite a haul,” I commented as the men climbed the porch. Hector trotted over to me and sniffed my outstretched hand before flopping down at my feet.