Bucking Bronc Lodge 04(67)

He fought a tiny smile. He liked her spunky and sassy.

Hell, he liked her any way. Especially naked.

Images of their lovemaking flashed in his mind, but the image of Timmy’s bloody T-shirt followed, making him feel guilty as hell for loving her when his son might be hurting.

No...he couldn’t think like that.

They lapsed into an awkward quiet as the miles passed and the sun rose to streak the weathered road with rays of morning light. Miles of more desolate land stretched before them. They passed signs leading to several resorts on the gulf, but left those behind as he turned onto a dirt road that was supposed to lead to farmland.

A truck filled with workers passed, another carrying chickens. Sweat beaded on his skin as he neared the address. He turned onto another dirt road that led to a dilapidated wooden house with chickens in the yard and a broken-down rusted truck parked to the side. Another truck sat half-hidden behind the house, the tail jutting out, revealing a metal storage bin in the cab.

Miles’s blood turned to ice.

Dugan was here. What about his little boy?

“This is it,” Jordan said.

Miles parked, drew his gun and ordered her to stay in the truck.

“Miles, I might be able to help.”

“It’s too dangerous,” he said, “Stay here until I check things out.” Until he found Dugan and killed him.

He didn’t want her to witness what he intended to do to the man.





Chapter Twenty




Miles eased up to the front door and peered inside the window. He spotted a den off a hallway that led to the kitchen. Very little furniture occupied the den, and what was there was ratty and old. A newspaper and coffee cup sat on a tattered coffee table though, indicating someone was in the house.

He peered down the hall and spotted the kitchen sink and stove, then a figure moving. Dugan. He was pacing back and forth waving a knife in his hand.

Anger and adrenaline churned through Miles, and he motioned for Jordan to stay put as he crept around to the back. His boots smothered the weeds, the stench of chickens permeating the air and making it hard to breathe.

Mud stained the glass windowpanes on the side of the house, and he inched closer to the back door. A small window insert offered him a view of Dugan again.

And an old woman who was tied to a wooden kitchen chair.

Dugan paused in front of her, ranting as he jabbed the knife at her in threatening, erratic motions while she trembled in fear. Her skin looked leathery, her face wrinkled and pasty, evidence she’d been a chain-smoker all her life. Patches of stringy gray hair hung down over her shoulders, her eyes sallow and scared.

Miles scanned the room, praying to see Timmy but he didn’t spot him anywhere. Praying his son was in another room, he inched around the house peeking in each window.

But all the rooms were empty.

Rage and grief suffused him, and he made his way to the back door again, then paused to listen. No signs of his son.

Furious, he kicked open the back door. “Put the knife down, Dugan, it’s over.”

Dugan spun around and waved the knife, his own eyes glazed with a crazy look. Then he reached behind the door and yanked Timmy in front of him.

Miles choked on a breath. Dear God, Timmy was alive.

But Dugan had the knife blade to his throat.

“Daddy?” Timmy whispered, his little chin quivering.

Miles held up a hand. “It’s okay, son, I’m here. Just be very still.”

Dugan leered at him. “Go away and let me finish what I came to do.”

“I know what your mother did to you, but Timmy had nothing to do with it,” Miles said, searching his mind for the things Jordan had told him. “Let my little boy go and we’ll talk about your mother.”

“You’re crazy, son, just like I always thought,” the old woman said through a smoker’s cough. “Good-for-nothing, lying murderer.”

“Shut up!” Dugan swirled around, gripping Timmy tighter, then lunged at the woman. “You’re the good-for-nothing one, you whore.”

“Robert,” Jordan said softly.

Miles didn’t dare move, but somehow he was grateful she was there behind him. Maybe she could defuse the situation by talking to Dugan.

Although judging from the looks of him, he had delved too deeply into his delusional state for her to break through.

“Robert,” she said again in a soothing tone. “We talked about this before, remember? You don’t want to hurt Timmy. He’s just a kid like you were back when you wanted someone to rescue you.” Jordan eased up beside him, her demeanor so calm that it helped to stem Miles’s churning stomach. “You can do that for Timmy now. You can save him and be his hero.”

Miles ground his teeth to keep from calling Dugan the murdering bastard he was.