Texas Forever (The Tylers of Texas 6)

Kyle didn’t speak until the truck was on the road out of town. “What were you thinking, Erin, cozying up to that pile of trash? I thought you had better taste.”

Erin knew better than to defend Luke. “I told the sheriff it was over. If that isn’t good enough for you, that’s your problem. You don’t own me, Kyle Cardwell.”

He drove in silence for a couple of miles, probably wondering how to put their relationship back on the right track. Finally he gave her a smile.

“You always did have an independent streak,” he said. “But you’re going to need more than that to run the Rimrock. You’re going to need a man by your side—a man who knows the business. I’ve got an associate degree in ranch management, and I’ve worked with my father for years. I’m practically his right-hand man. I know everything there is to know about running a ranch.”

“Are you suggesting that I hire you?”

“Funny girl. No, I’m suggesting that you marry me.”

She should have known where this was leading. Erin sighed. “We’ve been down this road before, Kyle. I’m not ready to get married—not to anyone.”

“I know what you said. But that was before your father died.” He turned down a side lane that wound between drought-parched hay fields and branched off. The main branch cut back to the highway. The other, which Kyle had chosen to follow, ended in a thicket of willows, fed by a mucky seep. The place was known as a popular teenage make-out spot. But this time of day, it would likely be deserted.

Erin stirred uncomfortably on the worn bench seat of the old pickup. “My father raised me to take over the Rimrock and run it,” she said. “I never planned on losing him so soon, but I’m ready to step up and do my job. That’s what he’d expect of me.”

“But you’ll be alone.” Kyle pulled the truck under the willows, far enough that the branches hung like a curtain over the windshield. “You may know a lot about cows and horses, but people will try to take advantage of you. They’ll try to win your trust so they can manipulate or cheat you. You’ll need a man to protect you and help you make decisions.” He turned toward her in the seat. “If you’ll let me, I can be that man.”

His look roused Erin’s wariness. She’d always been able to manage Kyle and stop him from going too far. But something about him had changed. The familiar eyes that gazed at her had taken on a predatory gleam. Suddenly, without knowing why, she was uneasy.

“Let me show you the man I can be,” he said. “Let me show you what I can do. You’ll like it—women always do. And when we’re married, we can do it all the time.”

Alarm flaring, she edged toward the door. “I don’t want to stay here, Kyle,” she said. “Start this truck and take me home.”

“Not until you’ve given me the chance to change your mind.” He reached for her, his hand clasping her arm, jerking her toward him. “No,” she said. “I’m saying no—hear me?”

She began to struggle, trying to thrust him away, but he was stronger than she was. He shoved her down on the seat. The black sleeveless dress she’d worn for the funeral fastened down the front. His free hand grabbed a fistful of fabric and yanked. A button popped off, clicking as it struck the dash.

“No! Stop it!” She twisted like an eel, trying to get away as his hand slid up her leg. She’d worn sandals, with no stockings. His touch on her inner thigh triggered a surge of rage and fear that she hadn’t felt since her kidnapping six years ago. Her knees jabbed but missed the vital target.

He laughed. “Stop fighting. It’ll be great! You’ll see!”

“You idiot!” She ground out the words between her teeth. “You stupid, stupid jerk!”

Fury gave her strength. She worked an arm free, doubled her hand into a fist, and slammed it hard into his eye.

He yelped and swore, reeling backward and holding his hand to his eye. Erin used the instant of distraction to grab the door handle, shove the door open, and tumble out onto the soft, muddy ground. By the time Kyle had recovered enough to climb out of the truck, she had scrambled to her feet, ducked under the wire fence, and was running across the field, toward the main road.

At first she was afraid he’d come after her. He was faster and stronger than she was, and between her sore ankle, her flimsy sandals, and the rough ground, she knew she wouldn’t get far without needing to stop. But evidently Kyle had had enough. As she ran, stumbling every few steps, she could hear him shouting across the distance.

“It’s that bastard Maddox, isn’t it? You’ll be sorry, you lying slut! Both of you!”

Erin made it to the road and began walking along the rim of the bar ditch. Her knee was skinned, her feet were raw, and one sandal had a broken strap, and she was still about ten miles from the ranch. In the blistering sun, with no water, she’d pass out before she made it. Her only hope was that someone would come along and offer her a ride.

If only she could call for help. But she’d left her cell phone at home in her purse. Beau had gone to Lubbock to make the final funeral arrangements. Sky was on the mountain, and Rose had borrowed the station wagon to take some measurements on her land. At least Carmen might be home to take a message and get her some help.

But without her phone, none of that made any difference. She felt like a helpless fool. Maybe she should just find a shady spot and wait. Sooner or later, somebody was bound to come along. Only neighbors and townspeople drove this way. She’d be fine, as long as it wasn’t Kyle.

But what if it was? What would she do?

She was struggling with that question when she heard the faint throb of an engine coming from behind her. Turning, she could see the glint of sunlight on polished metal. No, it wasn’t Kyle. The truck he’d borrowed today was old and red. This was a newer pickup, a blue one.

Deciding to take a chance, she stood by the roadside and held up her thumb.

The blue truck, which she couldn’t place at first, slowed down. The glare of the sun on the windshield hid the driver’s face from view. But when the passenger door opened and a deep male voice said, “Erin, are you all right? Get in,” she felt reassured. Only as she climbed inside the air-conditioned cab and closed the door behind her did she recognize her good Samaritan.

It was Hunter Cardwell, Kyle’s father.