Montana Hearts (20 page)

A click from the front door brought her back into the living room, with the paper in her hands and her heart breaking. Her father stepped into the house, his face familiar, and yet she viewed him as a stranger.

He took one look at her, then glanced at the video on the TV that had automatically looped around and started playing a second time.

“How c-­could you?” Sammy Jo demanded, her voice low and her body trembling.

Her father's eyes widened, then he turned around, shut the door, and came toward her.

Instinctively she backed away. “Did you have Luke beat up? Were you there the night Harley held me at gunpoint?”

“No!” her father shouted, his face aghast. “It's not what you think.”

“Oh, no?” Sammy Jo raised her chin. “Dinner was an hour ago. Where were you?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he reopened them, they were filled with tears. “The sheriff called me in for questioning.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That I have nothing to do with the Collins theft. I told him I was there that night trying to
protect
the Collinses. I knew Harley and the others were going to try to break into the house again to search for Loretta's key. I tried to stop them, but they wouldn't listen to me.”

“What about this?” she said, holding up the invoice from the slaughterhouse. Her gaze bore into his as she waited for his answer.

His throat worked as he swallowed and a bead of sweat rolled off his left brow. “They're trying to set me up. Use me as their scapegoat if things go bad.”

“Who's ‘they'?” she asked, keeping her distance.

“The new developer who bought the Owenses' place, Harley and his gang, Winona. They knew of my longtime feud with the Collinses and asked me to help put the Collinses out of business. I figured a little mischief wouldn't hurt, and I thought if the Collinses sold their property and moved, I wouldn't have to look at them anymore. And you wouldn't keep running over there every day chasing after Luke.”

“How could you do this?”
Sammy Jo cried. “I believed in you. I told Luke you were innocent. I
trusted
you.”

“I didn't know what they planned to do at first,” he said, rubbing both his hands over his face. “After they stole the first set of cows, I told them I didn't want any part of their scheme. But they threatened if I didn't keep my silence they'd take that paper to the authorities, along with a ­couple incriminating emails where I stated I'd do anything to see the Collinses leave the area.”

“You let them drive through our property, didn't you?” she accused.

He nodded. “The first time, yes. After that, Winona stole my key and had an extra made without my knowledge. It was when she put mushrooms in my stew that I knew I was in trouble. They're going to make all of this look like it was my idea. And you're going to leave me just like your ma.”

“Secrets . . . destroy . . . lives,”
she said, emphasizing each word. “You should have told Ma you were still in love with Loretta before you ever married her. Instead of holding a grudge against Jed, you should have told the sheriff what that town posse planned as soon as they approached you. And above all else, you should have told
me
what was going on.”

“You know about . . . Loretta?” her father asked, his voice hesitant.

“Of course I know. Ma told me. She and I do
not
keep secrets.”

Her father sank into a nearby chair. “I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. I never wanted your ma to leave. Not really. I never meant to hurt the Collinses. Or you. I thought what I did would protect you, but I must have been . . . out of my mind.”

Delusional.

Sammy Jo's heart seemed to skip a beat and the back of her throat ached as she took a step forward. “We all make mistakes, Dad, but when that happens we should do ‘
whatever it takes
,' ” she said, her spirit lifting as she borrowed Luke's line, “to make things right again.”

His shoulders slumped. “How?”

“Tell the sheriff what you just told me,” she said, moving closer.

Her father shook his head. “I don't have proof I'm not any more guilty than they are.”

“Then return what was stolen so there's no case against you,” she pleaded. “Redeem yourself. Get those cows back before it's too late.”

“I can't. I don't know where they are.”

“Rumor has it, they're at the fairgrounds. Or at least, they were.” She frowned. “Where would they move them?”

Her father sat up straight. “Winona once asked to meet me at a place not far from there. I didn't go.”

“Why don't you check it out?”

“There's no guarantee that's where they're holding the cows.”

She gave him a weak smile. “At this point, what do you have to lose?”

He hesitated. “I can't load up two dozen cows by myself.”

Coming to stand beside him, she placed her hand on his shoulder. “No one said you had to do it alone.”

L
UKE HAD WANTED
to leave immediately, but he got hung up making a few well-­placed calls. Afterward he was waylaid by his sisters, who insisted they wanted to come.

“The sheriff and his men will meet us there,” Luke assured them. “You'll only get in the way and be told to stand back.”

“Don't you dare think you're doing this without me,” Bree said, using her dominant I'm-­older-­than-­you tone.

“Or me,” Delaney agreed, whose concern was for the poor animals. “We have to save our cows before they're shipped off and slaughtered!”

The phone rang and Luke turned toward the kitchen wondering if it was someone calling him back, but a moment later his ma emerged, grabbed her jacket off a nearby chair, and headed toward the door.

“Where are
you
going?” Luke's father demanded.

“To the bank,” she said, casting them a nervous glance. “The teller thinks someone broke into the vault and tried to bust open my safe deposit box.”

“Our ranch managers?” Bree asked, and bit her lip. “Remember the PI said they tried to rob that other bank not too long ago. Do you think Susan and Wade Randall might be back in town?”

Ma narrowed her gaze. “I'd bet it was that Winona woman!”

“Maybe you should wait until I can go with you,” Luke's dad suggested.

“No,” Ma said, her voice firm. “I have to go now. I begged the teller to wait there so I could check the contents of my box and she agreed. Besides, she said the sheriff and his deputies are still there. I'll be perfectly safe.”

The sheriff was at the bank?
Realizing the authorities had their hands full and might be late arriving at the holding facility, Luke said to the others, “We're wasting time. We need to move out.”

They hooked the cattle trailer to the back of the old red ranch truck and Luke, his father, and his sisters all squeezed into the extended cab. His father drove. The heavy fair traffic held them up fifteen minutes more so that it was nearly sundown by the time they got past town and down Route 106.

Twelve miles out, Luke pointed to a large structure coming up on their left. “That's it.”

The white rectangular building with the gray barn-­style roof sat on an upward stretch of land, with nothing around it except open fields. A faded sign read Fox Creek Square Dance Hall.

“I don't see any cows,” Bree said, and frowned. “Are you sure you have the right address?”

“Maybe they're inside,” Luke said, but wondered if his rodeo friend had played him by sending him to the wrong location. He still didn't know if he could trust him. For all he knew, A.J. could be leading them into a trap.

“I don't see the sheriff either,” Delaney said, her face tense.

“Or any other vehicles,” their father said, pulling in the driveway. “Your mother and I used to come dance here when we were younger. As far as I know, it's still used for square dancing today.”

“It may look like a square dance hall,” Bree said, wrinkling her nose, “but it sure doesn't smell like one.”

Luke nodded. “They're here.”

His father pulled the vehicle around the corner of the dance hall and slammed on the brakes. Another truck and trailer, vacant, was already there, blocking their path.

Delaney pointed. “Doesn't that belong to—­”

Luke jumped out of the truck with the assistance of his cane, and on the count of three, his father helped him fling open the large double doors at the back of the building.

Yep. Just as he expected. Their cows were inside. But they were with both Andy and Sammy Jo Macpherson.
Not
what he expected.

He froze, taking in their identical wide-­eyed expressions and the flush of guilt that crept into their faces when they realized they'd been caught.

“You and your father are working together?” Luke demanded, staring at Sammy Jo and wondering where he'd gone wrong. How had he not seen this? The enormity of their betrayal struck hard, pummeled him from the inside, and left him grasping for possible explanations, although he truly saw only one. “
You
helped him steal our cows?”

“No!” Sammy Jo exclaimed, a horrified look crossing her face. “We're helping you to get them
back
!”

“Of course you are,” Bree said, running to her friend's side to help her lead one of the cows out the door. “Luke, how
could
you think she'd ever betray us?”

The wounded look Sammy Jo shot him seemed to ask the same thing. And with a pang of remorse deep in his gut, Luke shifted his gaze to her father. “What about him?”

Andy Macpherson slipped a rope around another Black Angus head and said, “I may be a lot of things, but I ain't no cattle rustler.”

Luke's dad stood in front of their neighbor, rifle ready, in case the man should try anything, but after a moment of staring each other down, Jed Collins moved out of the way.

The rumble of other approaching vehicles came from outside, and while the two fathers hurried after the girls, Luke pressed himself against the wall and crept forward along the perimeter, careful to remain out of sight. He glanced through a window and saw two more trucks, five men. Harley was one of them.

Where was the sheriff?
Why wasn't
he
here? And where was his
own
backup?

As if in answer, a third truck sped into the driveway, the Triple T Tanner trademark marked on its side. Ryan and his three brothers jumped out, pistols drawn. The rustlers drew their own guns and aimed them at the young women.

Although Luke's pulse flew into a dangerously fast rhythm, and his gut clenched tighter than a harness on a bull, he was confident his team could overtake the rustlers. But first, they needed a diversion to get Sammy Jo, Bree, and Delaney out of harm's way.

There wasn't a moment to lose. Withdrawing the stick of homemade dynamite he'd confiscated out of his duffel, he lit the end with a lighter from his pocket. Then taking two steps toward the door, he pulled back his arm and threw it between the rustlers' trucks.

The blast took everyone outside by surprise, and as the rustlers flung themselves back, the Tanners moved forward to try to knock the guns from their hands.

Luke hurried to assist, straining his eyes to see through the smoke, and froze when a shot rang out, piercing the air. Off to his right he heard Delaney scream.

A few more shots rang out. Luke lunged toward a man in a brown jacket who aimed a fist at his father and twisted his arm behind his back. The man broke free and moved to retaliate, but Luke bent low and used his cane to hit the guy's legs out from under him. As soon as the other man fell to the ground, Ryan grabbed him and roped his hands.

Luke shoved another man aside, enabling Bree and Delaney to run around the corner of the building. He looked around and called for Sammy Jo, but the cows had run back inside the dance hall and their mooing cries made it almost impossible to hear.

An uneasy feeling shot through his chest. Where was she? Why couldn't he see her?

Two more vehicles pulled around the building, containing his friend A.J. and his other rodeo buddies, the second wave of recruits he'd been waiting for. Luke acknowledged his appreciation with a quick nod as they came toward the remaining rustlers from the opposite side.

“We're outnumbered,” one of the rustlers shouted, and each of them scattered in a different direction.

Luke tried to catch one who ran past him, but with his limp, he couldn't keep up.

An engine roared to life and one of the trucks tore away from them, leaving a spiraling cloud of dust in its wake. Luke glanced toward the remaining rustlers and saw his rodeo pals had one cornered. Ryan and his older brother, Dean, were tying up another, while Luke's dad helped Josh and Zach Tanner subdue one more.

“One of them got away,” Ryan said, helping his brothers haul the four they'd captured into the back of their truck.

“Harley,” Luke said, gritting his teeth.

Bree and Delaney came running out and Luke glanced behind them and frowned. “Where's Sammy Jo?”

“I think he took her,” came Andy Macpherson's strained voice from behind.

What?
Luke cast a sharp glance toward the road, his entire body tense. If Harley hurt Sammy Jo in any way . . .

“Luke.”

He spun toward her father and found the man on the ground, his face pale, and his shirt bright red. As Luke dropped down beside him, the unmistakable smell of blood wafted up his nose. “He's been shot,” Luke called out, and his own father ran up beside them.

“I didn't want her to come,” Andy said, gasping for breath. “But Sammy Jo's just so infuriatingly
persistent
.”