Chapter 19

Chapter

Nineteen

Jacey tried to quiet her breaths and stop trembling. She guessed Cade's shots had given away their position, but she didn't want to do anything that could draw her mother's men to them.

Cade had killed two in a matter of seconds. Her gut churned at the loss of life, but she was no stranger to death and she knew exactly how well-trained and depraved those men were. They would've killed Cade, or shot and beat and injured him, keeping him barely alive for her mother to torture.

It was incredibly impressive he had bested two of them so quickly. She'd heard about his military accolades and now she'd seen them for herself.

Thank you for Cade and please help us, she prayed. Please let the Colevilles get here fast and be as good at fighting as Easton and Walker bragged about.

She listened but couldn't hear anything from the aftereffects of those gun blasts. She could feel Cade cautiously shifting as the small barn door swung open, letting the predawn light in.

His loud shotgun reverberated again and the door banged closed. Had he killed another one or just made his presence known?

Her heart raced out of control. Could it be possible that Cade could pick the men off one by one with his impressive skill?

They would be safe until her mother sent another fleet. Cade would have to relocate, leave his valley, maybe for years. His mother would never quit trying to kill him for protecting Jacey.

Light appeared and she knew the door had opened again. She waited for Cade's gun to go off, her body shaking, her ears reverberating from the blast. She should plug them, but she clung to the phone, covering it with her hand so the screen wouldn't light up. Silly, as their position had already been given away.

Cade did not shoot. He did not shift or move. What was going on? Was it Clint? She hadn't heard vehicles. She couldn't hear much though.

"Jacqueline," her mother's clear voice called out.

Jacey's body spasmed and froze at the same time. Horrifically, she could hear that dreaded voice.

No! Oh, no , she mentally groaned, biting down on her lip to keep from crying out. Her mother had come personally. She supposed that made sense as she was in hiding. Why not travel with her men to retrieve her daughter?

"I'm here now, child," her mother said, as if she was a beloved parent coming for her daughter.

Cade! She eased closer to him. He didn't move, focused through his large gun scope, either on her mother or on the dark-clad man Jacey could see in the shadows behind her .

She was shocked her mother had risked herself opening that door, but her mother knew people. Even without meeting Cade, simply seeing his house and his valley, she would know he was an honorable cowboy who wouldn't shoot a woman. He should. If he shot her mother, the nightmare would be over. But how could she ask Cade to take that shot?

"Your father and Elizabeth would like to see you," her mother continued.

Her dad. Lizzy. No. Her mother would torture them if Jacey didn't go with her.

"Come with me now and we will have a lovely reunion. Nobody will get hurt. I will even spare the cowboy who has murdered three of my men."

She wouldn't spare Cade. How could Jacey get Cade to not reveal himself? She could distract her mother until the Colevilles came. At least they were on their way up the canyon. They could form a roadblock and kill them all. Dying was preferable to life with her mother.

"You have until the count of ten."

Jacey knew her tricks, but still her mind leapt to what her mother might do at the count of ten. Gallons of gas poured on the walls and a match struck. She would smoke them out or burn them alive.

"If you are not by my side when I say one, I will have my men destroy this barn with the missile launcher and fifty calibers they have waiting. You will likely die, Jacqueline. That would be a waste as you've been useful to me, but this past year has aged me. I would rather have you dead than grant your freedom."

Jacey couldn't catch a breath. Her mother would kill her. She didn't mind that. Death wasn't the worst thing, as she had learned painfully over the years.

But she couldn't sacrifice Cade.

Cade must have sensed her intentions. He released his gun, spun, and reached for her. His arms were around her and she felt that beautiful sense of safety and home. She couldn't let him dissuade her.

"I'm coming, Mother," she yelled before he could clamp his hand over her mouth.

"I knew you would," was the reply.

Her mother eased back and only a crack of light showed as they used the door as shelter.

Jacey's insides curdled.

Cade wrapped his arms tightly around her and pinned her down. "I'm not letting you go," he whispered harshly against her cheek.

"You have to. She'll kill us both," she whispered back.

"She won't kill you. She's your mother."

"She will!" How could she convince him? "She's insane, and me being out of her grasp has probably thrown her over the edge. Let me distract her. Clint will get here."

Cade wasn't listening. She knew it.

"10 …" her mother called from the doorway.

"You cared about my choice," she said, pulling out all the stops to convince him to release her and save his life.

"9 …" At least she was counting slowly.

"I do," Cade said cautiously.

"Now that I have my memory back, I am choosing to leave you. I don't need or want you."

"6 … "

Cade's arms softened around her .

"I would never choose you," she insisted, knowing it would hurt him and hating it, but at least he would live. "To think I would ever choose a simple cowboy in a backwoods valley. Let me go." She made her voice as imperious and snotty as her mother had taught her to do.

"2 …"

Cade released her.

She didn't let herself look at him, see the pain she'd inflicted.

"I'm coming!" Jacey screamed, scrambling to her feet. She hurried to the ladder.

"Come," her mother hollered. She couldn't see her.

"I'll come down the ladder. If you promise not to hurt him." She didn't want her mother to have Cade's name. Though she probably already knew it.

"I have already given that concession," her mother yelled back through the small crack in the door. "Come … now!"

Trusting her mother was trusting the devil herself, but what choice did Jacey have? She glanced back at Cade. The sun would rise soon; it was growing lighter outside the small barn windows, but it was still hard to see his face in the shadows.

"Don't move. You can pick them off," she whispered, then she turned and hurried down the ladder.

He didn't respond. She prayed he would stay there. Her mother would kill him if he exposed himself.

She hit the concrete floor with the soles of her shoes and whipped around. Her hands trembled and her gut churned. She had to face the monster.

"Come in the barn," she called to her mother. "I want to make my terms before I leave with you."

Her mother laughed harshly. "So your man can pick us off with his rifle? "

"He could have shot you at any time. You profiled him and knew if you opened that barn door he would hold his fire. He has honor. Something you'll never understand." She would enrage her mother to distract her. "He's far too honorable to shoot an unarmed woman. Even a woman as inhumane and depraved as you."

Her mother stormed into the barn and up to Jacey. "Yes," she bit out, inches away. This was the monster who had struck so much terror into her heart and so many others. She looked too thin, like a plastic Barbie doll with overexaggerated features. Her familiar blue eyes snapped at Jacey. "I know exactly how ‘honorable' your cowboy is. Too bad he must die."

She grabbed Jacey's arm and yanked her toward the door. "Kill him," she snapped at the guards waiting in the entrance.

Before they could file in and take their first shots, Jacey did something she hadn't done in years.

She fought.

Karate chopping at her mother's grip on her arm, she broke free and slugged her mother in the face. The monster flung back, screaming in outrage. Jacey kneed her in the abdomen. The witch was knocked to her knees.

Jacey paused, reveling in the triumph of standing up for herself, for Cade. Even if he never knew she loved him, she'd done it for him.

"What are you waiting for?" her mother snarled at her men. "Restrain her and kill him."

A man rushed at Jacey, but Cade shot him before he could even get close. He hit the ground. Jacey scuttled back to the barn wall. Her limbs trembled, her legs barely supporting her.

Her mother hurried behind the wall of her men. "Kill him. Kill him, and then we will take her! "

Cade shot another man.

Her mother's men filtered into the barn, returning fire at Cade and pinning him down.

"Jacey. Annie!" Cade hollered over the maelstrom of bullets and wood flying everywhere.

Jacey raced away from the firing squad, fumbling to unlatch Annie's stall. Cade would be ripped apart from all those bullets.

"No!" she screamed out. "No!"

The latch opened and she rushed in. The horse was pawing nervously in the back of the pen. Jacey stumbled in and wrapped her arms around Annie's neck, clinging to her horse. Cade's horse. It was a comfort, as if Cade was somehow by her side, but she couldn't let her guard down. She prayed desperately and felt tears wetting Annie's coat.

Please don't let them kill Cade. Please.

So many shots rang out, over and over again. Finally, there was silence. Eerie quiet. Dust and wood mites floated in the air. The scent of lead and gun powder overwhelmed the horses, straw, and hay scents.

"It's okay, girl. It will be okay," Jacey murmured against Annie's neck.

She didn't know if anything would be okay. What if Cade had been killed? The silence prevailed and she couldn't take it any longer.

Creeping out of the stall, she secured the gate and tiptoed back toward the main part of the barn to peek in. Five black clad bodies were sprawled out, two holding the door open.

"Cade!" Clint hollered from outside, stepping over the bodies. "Jacey. You're okay? Where's Cade?"

Relief washed over her. Clint and his brothers and men had come. They were saved. But why wasn't Cade answering ?

"Cade!" she cried out, running for the ladder.

He edged out over the loft. "You're okay?" he asked.

" You're okay," she screamed out.

He eased down the ladder, his larger gun strapped over his back, his pistol in his holster. He was a tough cowboy who'd defended her with his life.

"Cade. Are you hurt?" She wanted to hug him tight, but everything was now awkward between them. She'd told him she chose to leave, that she didn't need or want him. He'd believed her, or he would never have let her go.

She stayed in place, shifting her weight and biting her cheek. Cade was alive, but he'd come close to death and it was all her fault for selfishly clinging to him and choosing to stay with him in the first place.

"I'm okay," he said. "Are you?"

"Fine. Not a scratch. Except my knuckles might swell from punching her."

He smiled briefly, then looked to Clint. "Report?"

"You got four of them. We took out two more. The other two were wounded and surrendered as soon as Catherine was neutralized." Clint swallowed. His gaze focused on Jacey. "Catherine ran screaming out of the barn as her men tried to get in. She may have been hit in the crossfire. I think one of her men shot her in the back. None of us took a shot at anything but the mercenaries."

Jacey's eyes widened. Her mother was … "She's dead?"

Clint nodded shortly.

Jacey couldn't feel any sorrow or sympathy. Her mother had murdered many people and terrorized and controlled even more, including her. She'd abused Quaid and Elizabeth physically and emotionally .

Maybe she should cry—Catherine had been her mother—but she only felt relief. It was over.

Strong arms wrapped around her. Cade held her close. Despite her mean words and her telling him she didn't choose him, he held her. "Are you all right, sweetheart?" he murmured against her forehead.

"I am now, cowboy," she responded, cuddling into him.

It was over. Her mother was finally dead. Her reign of terror had ended.

Could Jacey stay right in these arms?

Cade had broken away from their kissing session. She knew he cared for her, but now that he didn't have to protect her, he'd probably want his peace and quiet back.

Jacey clung to him. She had no idea if he'd choose her, but she wanted to choose him.

How could she take back her words from the loft?