Page 46 of The Bull Rider & the Wedding Planner

Home. With his girls. No bull conquered or cheering crowd sounded more appealing than that.

Easton hurried through the crowded living area, saying hello to friends and family but not stopping. He rushed out into the garage, glancing around. No Cassie. Several of the caterers looked at him and smiled greetings.

“Have any of you seen Cassie?” he asked. “The wedding coordinator?”

A middle-aged lady in a white coat and hat nodded to him. “She went outside to get a breath of fresh air.”

Easton’s gut clenched. Cassie wouldn’t put herself in danger, but she was exposed if she was outside by herself. Just like he’d feared. He rushed through the garage. “How long ago?” he asked the lady.

“A couple minutes.” She shrugged as if she wasn’t sure.

Cassie hadn’t had her coat on. Right? It was freezing outside. What if …

He rushed out the side garage door and searched around. Nothing. He listened. There was the sound of some people exiting the party up front. He looked for tracks. Many leading up front, a few leading to the trees, and some went around to the back of the house.

He hurried that way. The lights from the house permeated the backyard. His gaze searchedeverywhere.

There!

In the snow lay a body dressed all in black. No, no, no. He rushed up to the body and saw one of Aiden’s security guards, a bullet wound behind his ear, blood seeping out.

Easton felt sick. He couldn’t stop. He had to find Cassie.

He yanked the man’s radio off his belt, held down the button and said urgently into it, “Guard down. Cassie Johnston is missing. Start searching immediately.”

Then he dropped the radio, yanked his gun out of his suit pocket, and prayed desperately for some direction.

He retraced his steps. If Baxter had killed the guard, then he would’ve waited for Cassie to come out the side door. He looked desperately around. There were all the tracks leading up front, and the few leading to the woods. If Baxter was able to shove Cassie into a vehicle, he’d be long gone. But there were people coming in and out and two guards stationed out front. Somebody would’ve seen them and sounded the alarm. He could have shot the security guard from the cover of the woods and then carried Cassie off.

Easton prayed and felt it. He had to try the woods.

Quietly, he ran along the tracks, praying he could find her. His heart raced out of control. How had this happened? What if Baxter had already killed her? The man had no qualms about killing.

Please help, he begged heaven above.

Then he proceeded forward, listened intently, and kept praying.

He’d lost Cassie for six years and it about destroyed him. He didn’t know how he or Presley would survive if she was permanently gone.

Chapter

Seventeen

Cassie pantedfor air against Baxter’s hand. He carried her through the snow, seeming oblivious to her kicking, hitting, and scratching at him. She was freezing in her thin dress and the cold sweat pricking her skin made her shake uncontrollably.

“My therapist said I have to get you out of my head,” he muttered as he plowed through the deep snow. “I don’t know how to do that with you alive and happy and raising my daughter. He kept trying to make me do all these stupid mind exercises and wanted me to promise to stay away from you. So I killed him.”

Cassie screamed against his hand.

He stopped moving. “And now I’m going to get you out of my head, my way. I’m going to cut your heart out and take it with me. That cowboy boyfriend of yours will regret messing with me. When you’re gone, Presley and I can finally be happy. You poisoned her against me.”

Cassie fought more ferociously. He had completely lost touchwith reality. When they were married, he’d told her about his awful relationship with his demanding grandmother and how his first wife had broken his heart. Now she knew he’d killed both of them, her own mother, and his therapist. She had little hope of surviving, but at least Easton would never let this monster hurt Presley.

Baxter released his hand over her mouth and shoved her down into the snow. The Montana cold was intense, even in early winter. The snow heightened the cold, yanking her down into its icy depth with a relentless grip.

But Cassie had too much to fight for to just give up. She screamed, flailing.

He pushed harder, burying her face in the snow.

---