She yanked her hand away from him. “The helicopter left.”
“And when Lee spotted the ranch, he might have given orders for his men to search the place.” He reached for his pack. “I thought he might do that.”
Her body had tensed. “You should have mentioned that ‘thought’ to me sooner.”
He pulled a knife from the pack. “I didn’t want you to worry.”
Uh, she was worrying plenty right then.
Drew hurried to the window. “I heard their vehicle. The sound of one engine, but I can’t see them. Not yet.”
She looked around for her own weapon. “Do we make a break for it?” Jump on that motorcycle and ride fast and hard?
He shook his head but didn’t glance back at her. “They’re searching to push us into a panic. With that chopper in the air, Lee would see us on the bike. No, we don’t leave.” She saw his grip tighten on the knife. “We hunt.”
* * *
A HELICOPTER SWOOPED overhead.
Dylan paused beside his truck. He was on the side of the old road, standing next to the apparently broken-down vehicle. The hood was up and his hands were dirty with grease.
“That’s the second time that chopper has flown over us,” Rachel murmured as she strolled to his side. “Something is definitely going on in this area.”
Dylan tilted back his head. “They’re searching for—”
He broke off because he’d just spotted another vehicle coming down that long, lonely stretch of Texas road. There was only one place at the end of that road—the enemy compound.
And the gray pickup that was heading toward him? Those guys were coming from the compound.
The weight of his gun pressed into his lower back. The weapon was hidden beneath his jacket.
They’d planned to get in close to the compound, and this was their first step.
It was also a step that might be ending a little too soon.
The gray truck braked next to him, sending a pile of dust up into the air. Two men were in the vehicle. They were young, both in their early twenties, with dark hair and suspicious eyes.
“You got trouble?” one of the men demanded.
Uh, yeah, didn’t it look as though he did?
“The engine overheated,” Rachel said easily as she walked toward the truck. “My boyfriend here...he’s not so good with cars.”
The men’s attention fixed a little too quickly on her.
Dylan slammed the hood shut. “She’ll be working fine now, honey.”
“It’s not them,” one of the men muttered. “Leroy, we need to keep lookin’.”
Not them. That was exactly the intel Dylan had needed. He headed toward the men, toward Rachel. Dylan made sure his steps were slow and easy. As nonthreatening as possible. He wrapped his arm around her waist and kept his gun concealed. “I think I’m a little lost,” he said, giving them a sheepish smile.
One of the men, a fellow with ruddy cheeks and a small gap between his front teeth, eyed Dylan with suspicion. “Where are you headed?” Leroy. His buddy had called him Leroy. Dylan filed that name away for later.
“Toward Baker’s Ranch,” he replied easily. “A dude ranch in—”
“There’s no dude ranch this way,” he was flatly told. “So get your pretty girl, get in your truck and get the hell out of here.”
Rachel stiffened. Her eyes widened as she gave a little gasp. “Is that— Are you threatening us?” Fear slid into her voice. Rachel was a damn fine actress.