Page 80 of The Promise
But first he had to make things right. And to do that, he had to save his brother. "There's a line shack not far from here. I can leave you there until I find Patrick."
Her eyes narrowed and her lips tightened. "No way, Michael. Until we resolve this, whatever we do, we do it together." She crossed her arms and squinted at him angrily, looking like a bizarre cross between an avenging angel and a street urchin.
She stood up, wiping her hands against her jeans, all business now. "What do we do first?"
A sense of pride welled up inside him, and something else, something powerful and possessive. She was the most amazing woman he had ever known. And he'd be damned if he'd let her willingly walk out of his life. He forced himself to focus on her question. There'd be time to examine his fragile new emotions later.
"Can you handle a gun?"
"Like a pro. My grandfather taught me to shoot about the same time he taught me to ride." She smiled up at him, determination glinting in her eyes. "But, Michael, where are we going to get weapons?"
"There'll be some in the line shack. We'll go there, and then we'll head to Clune."
"Can you see anything?"Loralee poked her nose above the windowsill, searching the yard for some sign of their tormentor.
"Stay low." Patrick glanced over at her, then returned his gaze to the ranch yard.
"I can't stand much more of this." Loralee kept her voice pitched to a whisper. Pete was sleeping and there was no sense waking the man. "It's like torture, Patrick. Waiting and waiting. If we're such sitting ducks, why doesn't he just kill us?"
Patrick reached over and covered her hand with his, the contact comforting. "He's got a mind of his own, that's for sure. But he knows what he's doing. Any overt movement on our part, and he'll pick us off one by one."
Loralee squared her shoulders, determined not to give in to her fear. This was by far the worst spot she'd been in over the years, but that didn't mean she hadn't had her share of trouble. And she'd survived it all. And truth be told, she wasn't planningon kicking the bucket just yet. "There's got to be something we can do." She glanced over her shoulder at Pete. "He's got a fever, Patrick. I don't know how much longer he can hold out."
Patrick ran a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up every which way. "I've been over it and over it, Loralee. There's just nothing to do but try and wait him out. Maybe he'll make a mistake."
She stared out at the tall grass waving in the breeze, trying for courage. "You could make a run for it."
"I'm not leaving you alone."
"If leaving me alone saves our lives, it'd be more than worth it, don't you think? If you do get out, then you'd be able to bring back help. And I can hold the fort until you're gone." She shot him a determined smile.
"No. Even if I could get out—and I'm not saying I could—I'm not about to leave you and Pete undefended."
"Patrick, I've been taking care of myself as long as I can remember. I reckon I can handle it just a little bit longer."
He ran the back of his hand along her cheek. "You're as brave as they come, but you're no match for whoever's out there. Hell, neither am I. That son of bitch is holding all the cards."
"Don't mean nothing." They both turned to look at Pete, who had struggled to a sitting position.
His face was ashen and Loralee marveled at the strength of his constitution. A lesser man would be dead to the world right now. Or just plain dead. "Pete, you shouldn't be up. You need rest."
"If we don't do something real soon, I'll be doin' nothing but restin'. Figure now's as good a time as any to formulate us a plan." From Pete, it was a speech. Loralee crawled over to his side and dipped a square of linen in the pan of water. She reached to wipe it across his brow, but he pushed her hand away, his gaze never leaving Patrick. "So what you thinkin' of doin'?"
Patrick crossed the room, staying low, settling on the floor beside them. "I was thinking that if you covered me, I might make it to the barn. From there I could try to ride for Silverthread."
Pete closed his eyes, scrunching his face up in thought. "Might work."
"Yeah, and it might not."
"But it's worth a try." Loralee looked from one man to the other. "You said yourself, sooner or later, he's going to get us if we stay pinned like this. Seems to me a little chance is better than no chance at all."
"Girl's got a head on her." Pete nodded with approval and Loralee felt her chest swelling with pride. Nobody had ever called her smart before.
"I still don't like it. If I get shot, how are you all going to manage?"
"If you don't try, we're gonna be in the same kettle. It's just a matter of time." Pete leaned back, all the words exhausting him.
Loralee met Patrick's gaze, her own steady. She'd played poker before. Wasn't half bad at it actually. And she knew it was time to call the hand. "Pete's right, and you know it."
