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My eyes shot sideways as two figures came into view through the dusty haze. As if the world moved in slow motion, the grim reaper clutched Briar’s hair at the base of her neck and shoved the metal barrel of a gun against her temple. My blood ran cold, ice picks stabbing through my entire body as my heart stopped.
“Cassidy!” she cried out again.
A greasy man, at least in his forties, jerked on her braid again, snapping her head back onto his shoulder. Eyes as dark as death peered at me, and he tipped his head like a deranged monkey with a hollow soul.
Her wrists bound by duct tape did not stop her fingers from clawing at his calloused hand, blood trickling from skin that she broke, but he didn’t even flinch. The gun remained steadily trained against her face. His own cowboy hat, wrinkled and filthy, sat over a head of unruly, burnt orange hair. A patchy beard, if you could call it that, scratched against Briar’s ear as he stopped near the entrance of the round pen.
Swallowing back the thick, rage-filled beast, clawing his way from my chest, I studied this cumbersome man who stood as tall as Briar but nearly three times as wide.
“How about a trade?” he finally huffed, breaking the tomb that we were trapped in. His voice was a little higher pitched than I expected.
“Let go of me!” Briar screeched and whipped around, elbowing him in the stomach.
The gun he was holding clattered to the ground. His fingers immediately curled up, and he swung a fist as I dropped the lead rope, and my feet flew across the gravel.
But I was too far away, and he connected with her beautiful jaw. Her head snapped sideways, forcing a tiny whimper from her lips.
“Stop!” he snarled. “Or I’ll do it again.”
Ramming my teeth together, I halted and glared at him. “Wayde Jenkins, I presume,” I growled, grinding them together. Without turning my back on the man, I returned to Sundance, who weaved back and forth just in front of the gate I hadn’t had a chance to shut. The ten men, no longer distracted by the escaped herd, slowly grouped behind him.
“I want my horse. You can have her if you give me my horse. She’s not worth the trouble anymore,” he hissed, jerking on her hair again. His gaze slipped to my hand that hovered over the holstered gun attached to my hip. A warning to not try for his weapon that still sat on the dirt below him. A warning that he understood.
Briar’s gray eyes closed, and she shook her head. “Don’t,” she quickly said.
“Shut up,” Wayde snapped, jerking her hair again. Several of the men behind him cocked their weapons, training them in my direction. If she was not careful, if I was not careful, this would turn into a shootout, and one I would not win.
“Now, again, I want my horse,” Wayde emphasized, returning his steely gaze toward me. Blood pumped thick through my veins, drowning out much of the surrounding ambient noise from my ears. If I just gave him this horse right now, he might hand Briar over to me. But who was stopping him from unleashing the ten men behind him on us. Who was stopping him from picking up that gun beside him and finishing the job that he’d failed at ending so far.
Nothing was the answer. There was nothing and nobody standing in the way of all of that death and violence if I didn’t play this smart.
Besides, the thing was, as much as I loved this horse, I loved her more. Therefore, whatever I decided to do, had to keep her away from harm. Keeping her safe and alive was more important than anything else. But I still cared about this animal, so there had to be a way to keep both safe. Which started with finding a way to get those ten men gone. One on one, I could possibly handle Wayde. At least keep him occupied long enough for Briar to get out of here with Sundance.
“Goldie, do you trust me?” I quietly asked. She nodded fervently, but kept her mouth shut as Wayde rubbed his nose against her cheek. Acidic bile grated in my throat at his action. As subtle as possible, my fingers drifted from hovering over the gun and slipped in my pocket. Running my fingers across the power button and a volume button, I pressed down and held it for several seconds. Even if I couldn’t directly give information to the 9-1-1 operator, they would at least hear whatever I could get Wayde to confess.
Fumbling with the lead rope with my free hand as a distraction, I lifted the cotton and shifted my attention back to Wayde.
“You want this horse?” I started, and he nodded. “You seem like a relatively smart guy, so I know you know I don’t trust you.”
He chuckled, lifted his chin, and gave me a sickening smile. “I also know you want her.”
“Clearly,” I growled.
“Well, then it’s simple. You give me that horse, and I’ll give you her.”
“Not until those ten men you hired get back into their vehicles, drive somewhere far far away, and I never see them again,” I demanded. Briar swallowed stiffly, her bound hands dropping to her waist even though I could see the fear etched so clear on her face.
“They won’t do anything unless I tell them to,” Wayde countered.
“You won’t have them fire at me for fear it might hit this horse. But the moment I give him to you, what’s to stop you from killing Briar and I?” I asked, hoping beyond hope that showing some of my cards made him think I was easily apprehended. I needed him to believe that he could take me for this to work.
He narrowed his beady eyes. “What’s to stop you from coming after me once we trade?”
“For one, you’re bigger than I am. Two, you’ll have a horse who is also bigger than I am. And three, like you said, I want Briar.” I kept my gaze steady, my breathing as shallow and calm as possible. He was bigger than me, but I’d wrestled cattle bigger than him my entire life, and all I needed to do was keep him busy long enough for Briar to get away with Sundance.
He lifted his chin away from the woman he held captive as leverage. “Fine,” he finally said and waved a hand. Gravel crunching beneath boots combined with the lowering of weapons bounced through the solemn atmosphere as his companions slunk back toward their vehicles. Neither of us moved nor spoke, waiting until the engines turned over and they disappeared. It left the playing grounds relatively more even.
Step one, successful.
