Accidental Knight: A Marriage Mistake Romance(37)

Damn.

I should go upstairs, though, and get a candy cane for Edison like I’d promised.

He’d been at the barn, just like I’d asked, so there’s no denying him his reward.

I turn around and open the door, but a sharp thud and a whinny stops me.

Edison, and not a sound he normally makes.

Spinning, I hurry down the steps, racing toward the barn.

It’s dark and shadowy there, this thick foreboding blackness threatening to swallow me up.

The outside barn lights aren’t on like they were last night, like they’re supposed to be. I know those lights. They’re programmed, scheduled, automated.

My nerves kick in, and I slow my pace. Coyotes, wolves, and even the odd mountain lion have nosed around the barn before.

They’re the reason Gramps insisted on top-notch motion sensors. Not to mention teaching me how to shoot years ago. I’m grateful for those lessons, even if I’m long out of practice.

Rifles, shotguns, pistols, I know how to use them all and had a permit to carry since I was old enough to get one. I’m sure the pistol he bought me is still in my table beside my bed upstairs.

The gun cabinet in Drake’s closet was full of firearms, too, heavier than what Gramps normally used. But those must be his.

All of Grandpa’s are in his office, in the glass gun case hanging on the wall, besides the handgun he kept by his bed, locked up safe and secure.

I walk across the driveway, where I can see around one of the big pine trees planted on each side of it, wishing I was armed right now. Squinting against the darkness, I see something on the far end of the corral.

Not an animal. It’s a pickup truck. A big one with stock racks.

Edison lets out another whinny, a snort, the closest he’ll ever get to a scream.

My heart skips a beat. Jesus, I have to do something.

I scan the corral until I see movement.

Two men have him cornered in the darkness, a rope around his neck, trying to lead him God only knows where.

Oh, crap. Crap, crap, crap, crap.

I’m trying not to panic. This is one time quiet and stealth won’t help. I take off, bolting for the house, howling at the top of my lungs.

I don’t even care that I’m relying on a man who might be less than upstanding himself; I just need someone, anyone, to get the hell out here and help me save Edison.

“Drake, Drake, Draaake!” I shout. “Get a gun, hurry!”

I only stop long enough to see his face in the window, and then he tears away from it. Message received.

Then I’m off again, racing back toward the corral, yelling, “Get away from him! Leave my horse alone!”

Edison hears me and whinnies louder, an eerie shriek churning the night. His silhouette rears up, kicking with his front legs. He grazes one of the men with his hoof, who swears and takes off, his buddy right behind him.

They head toward the truck, and just like a pissed off watchdog, Edison gives chase.

“Edison, no!” I call out. I’m so afraid of him tripping on the ropes around his neck.

He skids to a stop, but I keep running, rushing forward as fast as humanly possible.

Until something snags just above the knee. Momentum reverses in an instant, throws me backward, and I go down hard.

But as soon as I hit the ground, I’m pulled off it into mid-air.

I’m so confused.

The wind goes out of my lungs and I can’t get it back, let alone stand. My knees buckle, but I’m held up in someone’s tight grip.

Drake.

“You all right?” he shouts in my face.

Air swoops into my lungs, but it burns. I have to cough before I finally shake my head.

It takes another painful breath before I can speak. “Go on. Don’t let them get away.”

But it might be too late.

The truck has already roared away, tearing down the driveway, merging with the darkness.

The arm I’d lifted to point at them falls limply at my side. Damn it all.

I don’t know if the adrenaline is all gone or what, but I’m so weak I can barely stand. I have no choice but to slump against him. “They were trying to take him. Trying to steal Edison!”

His huge arms fold around me, holding me up, and I lean harder against him, hoping the strength of his hard, massive body will transfer to me.

“I know,” he says. “I told you to stop, Bella. You don’t know who they were. They could’ve shot you.”

“And I shouted for you. Told you to get a gun.”

“I heard.”

“Then why didn’t you shoot them?”

His finger slides under my chin, gently lifting my face to look up at him. “You, darlin’. That’s why. Couldn’t get a clean shot at night with the lights out. If I’d fired at them, and they’d shot back, you’d have been in the crossfire. And so would that horse.”

He’s right.

Not that it makes it a bit easier.

Drawing in a deep breath of air, I feel life returning to my body. I test my legs, making sure they can hold me before I take a step back and turn away from him.

Then I lick my lips, preparing to tell him he’s right, but the roughness of gravel, the taste of dirt, make me cough. Another familiar metallic taste has me licking my lips again.

Yep. I’m bleeding. Somewhere.

I wonder how awesome this day can get?