AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Phone,” he murmured, holding out his hand. She handed it over. He turned it to silent and then texted Clint and Quaid. The only numbers in the phone. It was a mistake not to put more numbers in or somehow retrieve his phone or have Clint get him a new one. Too late to rectify that now.
Two vehicles. Unknown numbers. We’re in the barn loft. I’ll hold them off. Don’t come without a lot of manpower.
Then he unloaded his pockets and shoved the phone in. One of the men would get the message and raise an army, but how long would that take and how many could they gather on short notice?
Pulling out his pistol and lifting his shotgun over his head, he made sure they were loaded, safety off, bullets, shells, and an extra magazine sitting by. Then he gently ushered Jacey back away from the edge to hopefully avoid anyone seeing her. It was dim in the barn. He squinted to see through the bit of pre-dawn light through the door seam. Not knowing how close the men were was unnerving. He felt like he was blindfolded. Listening was imperative.
He heard their engines cut, doors opening and closing to vehicles and then his house. Jacey’s quiet pants for air concerned him. The men weren’t approaching the barn. Yet.
He eased back. “It’ll be all right,” he whispered close to her ear. “Stay down and quiet. Clint will be here soon.” He hoped.
“She’ll torture and kill you,” Jacey whimpered, wrapping her arms around him and holding on tight. She shook like a leaf in a windstorm.
It was hard to wrap his mind around his brave Jacey being absolutely terrified, but he hadn’t grown up with a murderous mother who tortured people. He wanted to help Jacey heal, but this wasn’t the time and she’d already chosen to leave him.
Gently pulling her arms away, he whispered close to her ear, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m a cowboy. We’re built tough.”
“You have no idea what they’re capable of,” she whispered harshly.
Maybe he didn’t, but he’d fight to the death to keep her safe.
Pulling out the phone, he handed it over. Her beautiful face was illuminated in the light of the phone screen. Her eyes were wide, darting to the door and back to his face, her lips pinched. Maybe giving her a focus would help.
“Don’t answer it and give us away, but you can text them. Just cover up the screen so no light shows.”
She nodded.
He gave her a reassuring smile. It didn’t seem to take. “Hide back against the hay.”
Thankfully she obeyed, burrowing back and out of sight from the door and the ground floor.
Cade picked up his shotgun and lay down on his stomach, edging close to the twenty-foot drop. Best case, they didn’t investigate up here. If only he hadn’t built that ladder to be permanent and could pull it up. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness. His hands were steady but his breathing too fast. Jacey’s breathing was fast too. He wanted to reassure her, but then he heard it. Footsteps.
Stay hidden. Don’t give away their location unless he had to. He would love to take out her mother’s men and be a hero in her eyes, but reinforcements coming and her mother’s men being arrested and hopefully leading the authorities to her mother was best case scenario for Jacey.
Cade squinted down the barrel at the men coming in the barn. The light of dawn highlighted them as they opened the door. All in black. Body armor with ballistic face shields. Infrared goggles on. Assault rifles. They moved stealthily and started sweeping the barn. Well trained for sure. Two so far. If they heard or glimpsed him and Jacey, the load of men would descend.
Slowly easing back so they couldn’t see him, he lined up his shot.
One man circled under the ladder. Cade’s neck prickled and sweat popped out on his forehead and back. Take the guy out if he started climbing or scoot back and try to surprise him and slit his neck? Either would be loud enough the other man would hear. A shot would bring the rest of the unit. Waiting carried the risk of Cade not prevailing and Jacey being left alone and exposed. Cade believed he would win a hand-to-hand fight or with a knife, but it wasn’t worth letting his pride rule.
He heard the shuffling of a gun strap and that first boot strike against his wood ladder. Jacey panted for air behind him.
Cade had no choice. At the top of the ladder, the man would be ready for resistance. It had to be while both hands were occupied. He let out a breath, leaned over the edge, and took the shot.
The shotgun reverberated loudly through the loft. The man thudded to the concrete floor without a peep and didn’t move. Jacey gasped softly. The horses neighed uneasily.
The other guard froze and then pivoted to his buddy. He obviously hadn’t expected resistance. Cade saw him easing back toward the cover of his tractor and pulling out a radio. He hated taking life, but he couldn’t let the guy sound an alarm besides what he already had with his shot. Who knew how many more men would descend on them? They could rip apart this loft with a repeated assault and Jacey would be dead.
He aimed for the upper part of the body armor, glad he’d brought a shotgun so the buckshot would spread in flight and find the gaps around the armor and in the mask. He pulled the trigger. The 12-guage blast was deafening. The man was punched backward completely off his feet and thrown to the ground. The shot to the upper torso and neck area had been on target.
Cade debated what to do. Relocate or hold this position? More men would come if they were outside and had heard the shots, when they didn’t report in, or if the second man had pushed a warning button.
“Jacey?” he asked to be heard over the short-term damage to her ears from the blast. “Any response?”
“Clint’s on his way,” she whispered loudly back.
Okay. Twenty minutes. More likely thirty to round up the men they’d need. Jared, Clint, Easton, and Walker Coleville from the ranch. Maybe two or three trained hands. Clint’s deputies from town would be farther behind. Help from Kalispell’s sheriff or the bigger departments of Missoula and Coeur d’Alene would be well over an hour.
