Page 97 of Wrangled Up

Wet, blackened with soot, but alive and the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

He collapsed beside her on the ground and rolled on top of her, grinding her into the mud while alpacas and horses moved around them.

A harsh sob vibrated her chest, and it didn’t come from her. The sound mechanized her. She locked her arms around him and pulled his head to hers, raining kisses over his dirty cheeks.

“Thank God you’re okay…”

“Crazy woman…”

“You’re shaking.”

“You’re mine.” Christian crushed his lips to hers in a kiss that would have scared herwith its intensity if she hadn’t already half-peed her pants.

Before she could get accustomed to his weight or the gravity of the situation, he was on his feet again. He picked her up and set her on her boots too.

“Letty? Tucker?”

“She’s okay.” Tucker? He was still a variable. If he was chasing down Leon, it was possible they’d be in love with a murderer.

Christian gave a hard nod. “Where is he?”

“Took off down the drive.”

“North toward Leon’s?”

“Probably.” Her teeth clacked as her nerves finally connected to her brain and the shakes began in earnest.

Christian tugged her off her feet and into his arms and ran with her to the front of the house, where Letty still stood sentry over a writhing Dale.

Unceremoniously, Christian dumped Claire on the porch steps and stormed into the house. A moment later he came out with a blanket, which he wrapped around her shoulders.

“Letty, you and that Wincester are in charge. I’m going after Tucker.”

Her aunt’s fierce expression softened when she looked to Christian. “Go on with ya. I’ve got it covered. Police and fire department on the way.”

Christian sent Claire a long look.Don’t move from that spot or you will get the coarse ropes again,it said. “As long as the stars burn,” he said.

She shooed him with her hand, and the blanket flapped. “Go. Hurry.”

He ran to his truck and vaulted behind the wheel. All rugged man and determination.

All cowboy.

* * * * *

Tucker didn’t even know if they were alive. Claire was probably running into danger, and Christian in that inferno…

He swallowed hard. Plastering himself to the horse’s neck, he gave it several sharp kicks in the sides to get her up to speed. This is what his horses were bred for—beauty and grace as well as speed. Rodeo horses, smart horses thatwere good at taking commands. Well, today Tucker needed his hard work to pay off.

The animal surged forward, eating up the ground between his ranch and his uncle’s. That bastard Dale lay in the yard, bleeding, shot by an old lady with more common sense and skill than most men.

His mind cycled back to Claire and Christian. Then launched right on to Heather. If he lost them as he’d lost her, he couldn’t function. He’d ride this horse until they both died from exhaustion or starvation. He just couldn’t go on without both of the people he loved.

He was running on the highest octane of adrenaline, his instinct to end this whole thing once and for all consuming his every thought and guiding his decisions.

Leon had to be at home, and Tucker was damn well putting a stop to this insanity. Money and greed had started a modern-day gunfight. Being pinned down in his own yard by gunfire was something he couldn’t have ever dreamed up. Maybe Dale’s actions hadn’t been egged on by Leon, but his uncle had fed his son’s hate.

He veered off the driveway and sent the horse sailing through the fields. Dips and swells, the roll of the beast’s body beneath his and the sting of rain against his face grounded him.

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