“I hear you!” he answered. And he said to Maggie in a low voice, “Stay here and stay down.”
“He just wants to see me,” she argued.
“Then he shouldn’t have come with a rifle,” he snapped.
“Calder! I know Maggie’s in there! You let her go, or I’ll shoot out every window in the house!” her brother threatened.
Chase moved quietly away from Maggie into the shadows of the darkened living room. He didn’t reply until he was on the other side of the room. “If you know she’s in here, put down the rifle before you hurt her.”
“All you gotta do is let her go and she won’t be hurt—because I’m not going to let you hurt her this time!” Culley lifted his cheek from the rifle to answer as he crouched behind the hood of his pickup.
There was a faint scuffle in the gravel behind him, a whisper of warning. He pivoted sharply, swinging the rifle around to respond to the threat from his unguarded rear. An arm knocked the barrel upward and the bullet was fired harmlessly into the air as he was rushed by three men. He tried to fight them off, but he was outnumbered, and more were coming. Something rammed his stomach, doubling him over with pain, and a fist split his lip open and spun him into the truck. Groggily, he tried to shake the blackness away from his eyes, but they pulled him around, slamming his shoulders and back against the pickup’s side. There was a crack of pain along his jaw. Then he was sinking into a dark oblivion and didn’t hear the snapped order, “That’s enough.”
When Maggie heard the scuffling sounds of a fight outside, she ignored Chase’s order to stay and followed him out of the house. Culley was on the ground, unconscious, slumped against the truck when she arrived on the scene. She paid little attention to the men standing around as she hurried to her brother.
“What do you want us to do with him, boss?” one asked.
Chase didn’t get a chance to answer as Maggie took one look at the bruised face and wickedly cut lip. “Bring him in the house,” she ordered. No one moved to obey her, and she looked over her shoulder at Chase with ice in her glance. “He’s my brother and he’s hurt.”
The pause was no more than a heartbeat long. “You heard my wife,” Chase said. “Buck, you and Dave carry him into the house.” Then he was stepping forward and reaching down to draw Maggie away from her brother. He muttered near her ear, anger vibrating through the low tone. “What did you think I was going to have them do? Dump him in a ditch?”
“How was I to know?” she hissed, equally low. “You let them beat him up.”
“He also had a rifle which he was using. What did you expect them to do—tap him on the shoulder and ask him nicely to put it away?” he growled under his breath, not looking at her as his hard-gripping hand propelled her after the two men carrying her brother into the house.
Chapter XXX
In the full light of the living room, the cuts and bruises looked minor. It was her brother’s overall physical condition that alarmed Maggie. His black hair was lank and straggly and he was rib-thin. There were dark hollows under his eyes, as if his eyes had sunk into their sockets. His behavior seemed understandable. He was a tightly coiled wire that had sprung and become erratic.
Chase handed her a shot of whiskey to revive Culley and motioned to Ty to clear away the first-aid equipment. Cupping the back of his head in her hand, Maggie poured a little of the whiskey into Culley’s mouth. He choked and started coughing, his eyelids dragging open as he attempted to push her away. Out of the corner of her eye, she was conscious of Chase taking a step toward them, ready to intervene if Culley became violent.
“Culley, it’s Maggie,” she said quickly to calm him down. It idly registered that after sixteen years of being Elizabeth, she was Maggie again.
She watched Culley focus on her and frown, his eyes raw and red, showing the strain of too much work and not enough rest that marked the rest of him. “Maggie?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “How do you feel?”
His hands gripped her arms, his fingers digging into her flesh like steel talons, betraying a need to make sure she was real and not a mirage. “It really is you.” A smile flashed, the action drawing on his cut lip and bringing an immediate wince of pain. He crushed her against his chest and hugge
d her tightly. Burying his face in her clean-scented hair, he closed his eyes to hide the tears, because a man wasn’t supposed to cry. “I’ve missed you.” His voice was muffled and low.
“I missed you, too, Culley.” Emotion choked her voice, as well, and she blinked to keep her own tears at bay. She saw Chase watching them with a tight-lipped grimness and slowly untangled herself from Culley’s clinging hold.
“You did it.” Culley ran wondering fingers along the side of her face, touching her in a kind of adoring awe. “You are a beautiful lady.” She caught his thin hand and kissed it, pity and guilt cutting into her for the misery he’d known while she had been surrounded by everything a woman could desire. Then his fingers closed fiercely around her hand. “I got Tucker’s message that you were here and that Calder was making you stay.” He looked up, a wildness possessing him when he saw Chase and, off to one side, Buck Haskell and two other cowboys stationed in the room in case there was trouble. “Come on. I’m taking you with me, Maggie, and they can’t stop me.” He started to rise from the couch, gripping her hand to pull her with him.
“Culley, no.” Her resistance baffled him, and it showed. “Listen to me, please. There is something I have to explain.” She was already searching for the words to make him understand, knowing there weren’t any.
“What?” He eyed her narrowly.
“This is where I live now. We are married.” She spoke calmly and concisely, trying not to let the words carry too much import, but she saw the shock and anger registering in his features. “Chase is my husband.”
There was a wild, unstable light in his eyes. “Have you forgotten what he did?”
She laid her fingers against his mouth to silence him, her eyes quietly pleading with him to say no more. “There’s someone I want you to meet.” She sought to distract him and turned to motion for Ty. Rising from her seat on the very edge of the couch, she moved to reach out for her son’s hand and draw him closer. He was wearing a wary and bewildered frown, made uncomfortable by the peculiar attitude and behavior of the man who was his uncle. Culley swung uncertainly to his feet, his gaze suspicious of the boy with his sister. “This is my son, Ty.” She introduced Ty and prodded him with a speaking smile. “This is your Uncle Culley.”
“How do you do, sir.” Ty stiffly extended his hand, but Culley didn’t notice it as he inspected him with a probing stare that increased her son’s unease—and Maggie’s.
“Culley?” She nervously prompted him to say something, a little frightened of his long silence.