Wild Desire

He nodded. Without greeting those ranch hands who turned and gaped at them, Stephanie and Runner rode on up to the house.

Runner swung himself out of his saddle as Stephanie slid from hers. Together they slung their reins around the hitching rail, then stamped onto the porch.

Damon was soon at the door, guarding it against their entrance. “What do you two want?” he spat, his hands resting on the two pistols hanging at his hips. “I don’t recall sendin’ no damn invitation to you.” He glared at Runner. “Especially the likes of you. The only reason I allowed you here the other night was because of Adam.” He took a threatening step closer. “Well, Adam ain’t here, so be on your way.”

Stephanie looked easily over at Runner. “Runner?” she said, waiting for his next move.

She didn’t have to wait long. He brusquely brushed past Damon and went on into the ranch house. Damon swung around, momentarily struck silent at Runner’s impertinence.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he finally said, rushing after Runner.

Her heart pounding, Stephanie hurried on into the house and past Damon. “I imagine his bedrooms are down this corridor,” she shouted at Runner, running on past him. “I’ll check one. You check the other!”

Too confused over what they were doing to consider drawing his weapons, Damon broke into a run after them. “What the hell are you two up to?” he shouted. “What are you doin’ goin’ into my bedrooms? Who the hell do you ’spect to find?”

Stephanie and Runner ignored Damon and rushed from bedroom to bedroom, then ran past Damon and checked the other rooms, even the kitchen.

After inspecting the entire house without success, Stephanie and Runner met in the parlor.

“He’s not here,” Stephanie said, breathing hard.

“Could we have been wrong?” Runner asked.

Damon came into the room, panting. He stopped and stared from Stephanie to Runner. “Who’s not here?” he said, wiping beads of perspiration from his brow. “Who’re you lookin’ for?”

Not to give up all that easily, Runner crossed to Damon, gathered up a handful of his shirt, and half lifted him from the floor. “Where is he?” he ground out between clenched teeth. “You low-down murdering son of a bitch, where is Jimmy?”

“I don’t know any Jimmy,” Damon said, wild-eyed. He choked and coughed, his face turning purple. “Let me go, damn it. Runner, so help me, I’ll shoot you dead if you don’t unhand me.”

Runner’s free hand grabbed Damon’s hand as it moved toward one of his holstered pistols. “I wouldn’t try it,” he said, glowering.

Runner walked Damon backward until the rancher’s back was against the wall. “Now, I will ask you one more time,” he growled. “I found your sister’s body this morning. She was stone cold dead. Her son was gone. Where is he, Damon? Where is your nephew?”

Damon’s eyes grew wide as he gasped, “Sharon?” he said. “She’s . . . dead?”

“Very,” Runner grumbled.

“My God,” Damon stammered. “My sister’s really dead? And her son?” He raked his fingers through his hair nervously. “I don’t know nothing about any of this. I had nothin’ to do with it. You’re wrong to think I did this. Dead wrong.”

Runner sighed heavily and released his hold on Damon. He had heard the genuine surprise in Damon’s voice; it was obvious to Runner that Damon was innocent of the crime. Which meant that he was also innocent of the crime of having stolen his nephew.

Stephanie went to Runner. “Are you going to actually believe him?” she said, placi

ng a hand on his arm. “Darling, surely he’s lying. Who else would do such a thing to Sharon? Who would want the child?”

Runner turned weary eyes toward Stephanie. “Who would do this?” he said thickly. “Who would want the child? The father. He came and took what he wanted and killed who he saw as an interference in his life.”

Stephanie moved away from Runner and went to stare out the window at the vast expanse of the land, and at the towering mountains in the distance. “We’ll never find Jimmy,” she said, a sob lodging in her throat. “Never.”

“I’ll help you find him,” Damon volunteered.

Runner stepped up to Damon. “Your help is not needed, or wanted,” he said, his tone threatening, rendering Damon speechless.

Runner went to Stephanie, swept an arm around her waist, and led her outside to the horses. As they left the ranch, they felt eyes on them from all sides.

After many miles, they finally slowed their horses to a walk. “I’ll go and make arrangements for Sharon,” Stephanie said sullenly. “That is the least I can do for her. And for her son? It saddens me so to know that what we had planned for him will never be.” She cast Runner a despairing look. “He won’t be our son, after all, Runner.”

“Perhaps one day we will find him,” he said, sighing. “For now, I imagine he is far from here. A person guilty of murder and abduction would not stay around long enough to be discovered.”