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Cade breathed out roughly. His heart was pounding sluggishly in his chest, fear moving through him. They entered the study quietly, and Cade saw immediately that Brock had closed the shades on the balcony doors.
Marly was sleeping where he had left her, her hair fanning and falling around her, her face composed and innocent in sleep. He breathed out deeply, relief nearly overwhelming him. Brock and Sam were quiet behind him, but Cade had nearly forgotten they were there anyway.
She was lying on her back, her face turned towards him, her lips parted as she breathed deeply. Cade went to his knees beside her, his finger touching a curl that teased her cheek and moved it back gently. She whispered his name, turning toward him, reaching for him even when unaware of his presence.
Cade lowered his head, his heart clenching with pain. How in the hell was he going to protect her from this?
“Get two of the boys in here. Brock, you come with me. Sam, you stay. Get Marly the hell out of here if you don’t hear from us soon.” He rose to his feet, moving quickly from the room.
“What the hell are you going to do, Cade?” Sam whispered fiercely. “Dammit, you aren’t going out there?”
Cade went to the door, motioning two of the half dozen cowboys he had left waiting on the porch, the others came to attention when they saw his face. The night wasn’t over.
“You two stay here with, Sam—”
“Dammit, I’m not staying anywhere,” Sam bit out. “If you and Brock go, then I go.”
“What about Marly?” Cade turned to him furiously. “If something happens to us, who will take care of Marly, Sam? Who will get her out of here and make sure she’s safe?”
Sam grimaced in indecision.
“Cade’s right, Sam.” Brock checked the pistol he was carrying on his thigh, then grabbed his rifle from where he had propped it against the wall.
“Then you stay,” Sam bit out.
“I’ve done my babysitting for the night,” Brock informed him harshly, but Cade knew it had nothing to do with sitting with Marly. Sam didn’t have the hard core of violence Cade and Brock carried. “Your turn at it, bro.”
“Stop trying to protect me,” Sam bit out, watching the other two with a furious glare. “Dammit, what happened to the ‘we’re not Green Berets’ bit? This is stupid. Marly needs us all.”
“And we need Marly, Sam, or have you forgot that?” Cade bit out. “Whoever that bastard is out there, he’s not playing with a full deck. Do you want to risk her this way?”
Cade watched Sam grimace. Pure fury lit his face and his gaze, but he knew there was no other way.
“Dammit, be careful,” he growled. “And remember, you two bite it, and this ranch will go to hell. Be damned if I’ll try to run it alone.”
For a few moments, Cades eyes widened. Hell, Marly was more important than the ranch, but still—he was going to have make certain he was damned careful. This ranch was Marly’s livelihood.
“Let’s go.” Cade headed out the door with Brock following close behind.
Cade waited until he heard the lock snap into place, then he turned to the other four cowboys.
“Brock, take two with you and head up the west slope. I’ll take the other two and head up the east. Hopefully, we can catch him between us.”
Terse nods greeted his orders. Staying low and moving carefully around the house, they kept a close eye on the area pinpointed as the stalker’s location. It was nothing more than shadow, the entire area. Impossible to make out, or to catch movement this far below the bench where he hid.
The moon was tucked carefully behind clouds, its rays blocked from the land below. It left the area in a blanket of deep night, usually not a concern. Unless there was a mad man with a gun hiding within it.
Cade and the two cowboys following him stuck to the shadows as they made their way throug
h the back pasture. The trees that had been allowed to grow there provided them with a bit of cover, meager though it was. The cloudless night helped all it could.
“Spread out,” Cade ordered the men following him as they started up the rise. “And be careful, for God’s sake.”
The rise was a tall hill, not really a mountain, but steep and tall just the same. It sloped up nearly a half mile, with a flat bench near the top. On that bench, hidden behind the concealment of large boulders, sat the stalker. Cade gritted his teeth in fury as he began a parallel path up to that bench. The son of a bitch was watching her, taking pictures of her, and only God knew what he had planned.
The shadows were long and deep on the hill, the trees sheltering as he moved along them carefully. He fought to move his body soundlessly through the underbrush and dried twigs. It wasn’t easy, though, to clear a path as he went. Damned if he knew how the Indians used to do it. One thing was damned sure, they didn’t try to do it in boots.
Still, he moved slowly, if in silence up the hill. He kept a careful watch on the bench above him, wondering, waiting.
