Barb Han - Ransom At Christmas

Kelly Morgan could take care of herself. Still, he recalled the almost too-thin girl who liked to sit by the window in the back of the room. She’d had a serious quality—too serious for her age. To this day it made him wonder where it came from and why.

“Tell me what’s going on and I’ll help,” he said, the memory softening his tone.

He needed to get her back to Domino before she passed out. In her state he couldn’t be sure the blood on her gown wasn’t hers. She might be hurt and not realize it.

His horse was a fifteen-minute walk from this part of Rushing Creek. He knew the land like the back of his hand, having grown up here.

Kelly took another step back and had to tighten her grip on the tree trunk to keep her balance.

“Tell me what’s going on. What happened to you?” he asked, but her eyes darted around frantically.

“He did this… I don’t know what he gave me,” she said hesitantly. He was close enough to see her pulse pounding rapidly at the base of her throat—a throat he had no business noticing…the soft angles or how silky the skin seemed.

Was this a simple case of woman who’d had too much to drink and ditched her fiancé on her wedding day? That wouldn’t explain the blood. She looked frightened and he wanted to believe it could be that simple. His survival skills, which had been honed in combat, made him think otherwise.

Why would she come into the woods? And what was she talking about? “What did he give you?”

He leaned in, close enough to pick up the scent of alcohol on her breath if it was there. There was no smell. Being this close to her stirred something inappropriate, though, and it was completely out of line given the situation.

Great job, Will. Way to keep yourself in check.

“Lean your weight on me,” he urged, trying to forget the familiar pain that came from seeing someone running in the opposite direction in a wedding dress.

Had Lacey had this same frantic, pained look on her face on their wedding day? Two years had passed, which should have been enough time to tuck away the memories and forget the whole thing had ever happened. Most of the time that was a no-brainer. Done. Then there were moments like these.

Will Kent had lived a charmed life. Until Lacey had crushed his heart with the heel of her boot. He bit back a bitter laugh. Wasn’t he being dramatic? It was most likely the fact that the anniversary of what was supposed to be their wedding was coming up in a couple of days.

A noise to Will’s left nearly caused Kelly to bolt like a motherless doe.

“Shhh,” he whispered. Her reaction heightened his awareness of their surroundings. Her emotions were on high alert and would be overkill for a woman who was solely ducking out on vows. The blood on her dress said there was more to the story.

“Pleas-s-s-e don’t let him hur-l me,” she said, slurring the words. Did she mean hurt ? He assumed so.

He scanned the area before catching her eye. He brought his right index finger to his lips, indicating silence.

She unfocused her gaze for a few seconds, like she was looking into herself for answers. Then she blinked before locking onto something in the distance behind him.

Will jerked his head around in time to hear the crack of a gun going off, followed by the unmistakable sound of a bullet pinging off the tree next to him. His eyes immediately followed the sound and saw that the tree trunk had a chunk missing. That was about two feet from his head. His gaze flew in the direction of the gun.

A short man with a slight build who wore jeans and a dark hoodie was bolting toward them, shotgun barrel seeking a better look at its target.

There was no time for debate so he picked up Kelly and darted in between the trees running a zigzag pattern as fast as he could. Work on the ranch had kept him in solid shape, so he could push hard without being winded.

Kelly couldn’t have been wearing a worse color to blend in with the surroundings and to make matters worse her billowy dress bounced and trailed behind them with every step. The breeze toyed with the sinless white material. Her long wavy ringlets blocked his vision and he didn’t want to take in her scent even though it blasted through him, anyway. She smelled like flowers and sunshine on the first warm day of spring, when everything bloomed.

There were half a dozen questions zinging through his mind demanding a response. Answers would have to wait until the two of them were out of danger. He also had a flash of panic that the blood on her dress meant she’d been shot.

Will ducked as another bullet splintered a piece of bark a couple yards away. Thick trees would make getting a clean shot next to impossible and that played to his advantage.

Keeping a calm head no matter the circumstances had always been his strong suit.

Will ran through the situation in his mind as he zipped through the tall trees.

Based on aim, this guy wasn’t a stellar marksman, which played to Will’s advantage. A shotgun wasn’t accurate but the bullet spray might do a lot more damage at this distance. There’d be shell pieces within a range of twenty feet this far away from the shooter. There was a reason it was called buckshot and it spread shrapnel across a decent distance.

The other advantage Will had over the shooter was knowledge of the property. No one knew this area better than a Kent and Will was no exception.

Will weaved through the trees. His speed and sheer willpower kept him a good distance from the shooter. This guy didn’t seem to be a match for Will’s athleticism and he appreciated the fact that Kelly wasn’t fighting against him. He could also thank years of sports in high school and his stint in the military for his fitness. Being used to a daily training routine had him waking up every morning at three o’clock to get in a workout before eating a protein-heavy breakfast and heading out to work an hour later.

The beauty in his arms seemed to be struggling to stay alert. With every few feet of progress, she shook her head or blinked her eyes. She muttered a couple of apologies and he assumed she meant she was sorry for him having to carry her. Although, he couldn’t be sure.

Adrenaline caused Will to run faster. The shooter might not be a great marksman but all it took was one hit for this game of chase to be over. Will knew how to handle the extra power surge that came with adrenaline and he was accustomed to managing the extra cortisol coursing through his body by measuring his breaths to keep them even.

He knew what it was like to have bullets flying past his head and seemingly no easy outs. A smile threatened to crack his lips because a part of him missed the adrenaline rushes that came with his time during combat. The other part of being away from home and coming back to the States in time for his fiancée to ditch him on their wedding day—that had been a humdinger.

Will was good at combat. Real life? Not so much.

Even though he’d grown up in a close-knit family he’d never been one to linger on emotions.

Being left at the altar when he’d believed he and his fiancée were in love showed him just how far off base he’d been. It didn’t seem to matter how many people told him to forget about her. That she wasn’t worth the trouble. He tried to tell that to the beating blob of blood and tissue in the center of his chest. Damn thing had a mind of its own.

Hell, he knew his family was right about Lacey. And normally he’d walk away and never look back. He had a weakness for the woman that defied logic. Or did it? A twinge of guilt pinched his gut. He most definitely felt protective of his ex.

That same protective instinct flared with the woman in his arms and it struck him that he was walking down a path he’d gone down before. Or, in this case, running was more like it, as he dodged another bullet that struck a tree a little too close for comfort.