THE RENEGADE RANCHER by Angi Morgan Page A

her.
    The man leaped across the bed, stepping on the poor woman’s legs. His arm stretched toward her.
    Two more steps and her body lurched in reverse, back into the bedroom. He jerked her hair, yanking while she screamed. She lost her footing, slamming to the floor. He was over her, the knife raised.
    Even his eyes were distorted with thick, shaded glasses. The knife descended, she threw her hand up to deflect. Pain. Her own hiss and scream blocked out all the other sound. Where was Brian?
    A deep shout, more of rage than warning, and the man in black disappeared from her view.
    She rolled to her stomach and blinked away the automatic wetness in her eyes. The knife shot against the door, bouncing past her into the hall. The man kicked the side of Brian’s knee sending him to the floor. He jumped over her, scooped up his knife and ran.
    “You okay?” Brian asked, pursuing him through the door.
    “Catch him,” she gritted through her teeth.
    Brian’s running steps vibrated the wood floor where she rested her cheek and sucked a few painful breaths through her teeth. She crawled to her feet, staggered to the hall bath, got a hand towel for her arm and locked the door.
    If Brian didn’t return... He will.
    The door shook with the pounding. “Lindsey!”
    She trembled so badly it was hard to turn the knob to let him inside. Should she? Was he alone? Was there a knife to his throat forcing him to call out to her?
    “He’s gone, honey. I saw him drive away. You all right?”
    “I’m...I’m fine.” She twisted the knob and lurched backward as Brian stumbled into her. She tried to get past him. “Let’s get out of here.”
    “That bastard cut you?”
    “Let’s look at it later.” She turned her injured arm away from him, trying to shove the rock in front of her aside. “Did he hurt you?”
    Brian used his calming gaze and gently prodded her to the sink. Looking into his face and feeling his soothing touch made her think everything would be okay.
    “You’re going to need sutures. I’ll get the wound cleaned a bit, then get you to an E.R.” He turned the water on, ready to clean her cut. “This is going to hurt.”
    “Later.” She jerked her arm to her side, blood oozing from the gash. He reached for her arm again and she turned from him, reapplying the towel. She moved away from his comforting arms. “No doctors. Please, just get me out of here.”
    “We do this now, Lindsey, or I drive you straight to the hospital.”
    Didn’t he know he was covered in blood? Was it his or the dead woman’s? She was beginning to gag at the thought.
    “Please take that shirt off. Jeremy’s clothes are still in his room. I’ll rinse my arm while you get rid of it.”
    From the corner of her eye she watched him in the mirror as he shoved away from the counter and jerked the T-shirt over his head. “I need to take care of this now.”
    She closed her eyes. “Please change.”
    She heard the running stride of his boots, then they disappeared on carpet.
    Before she lost her courage, she quickly forced her arm under the running water, gritting her teeth in agony as the sink turned red below her. Queasy and surprised she hadn’t pulled out all her hair, she got a clean towel and put it on her arm.
    Brian reappeared in a tight-fitting T-shirt Jeremy had worn all the time. “Got first-aid tape?”
    “Maybe in the cabinet behind me.”
    He looked at the wound, pulled the sides together and replaced the towel. “The closest hospital is on I-20. I can get us there in eight or nine minutes. They’ll take good care of you.”
    “I’m staying with you.”
    “That gash is deep enough to need sutures,” he said as he dropped the tape on the counter.
    “You did your own.”
    “But—”
    “You said this killer won’t stop until I’m dead. All the reasons we weren’t going to the police still apply.” She tapped her finger against his chest. She knew he agreed with her when his brows drew into as straight a line as his