Thunder Horse Redemption

Stopping just inside the entry, Pierce braced himself for the onslaught of questions his family was sure to ask.

His mother was the first to remember her manners. “Roxy, good to see you, sweetie,” she said as though it was an everyday occurrence for her son to stroll in carrying his ex-fiancée. “Oh, dear, is that blood?” She lifted a hand to her own cheek, her eyes widening. “For goodness’ sake, Pierce, let her have the lounge chair,” she commanded. “I’ll get some coffee. Maddox, you call Doc Taylor. Pierce, give Dante the details of what happened in case you need his help with anything else.”

Pierce smiled despite the gravity of the situation. Though thin and petite, his mother had a will of iron, with a bossy streak to match. She didn’t hesitate to tell her boys what to do, no matter that they were all grown men who now towered over her small frame.

“Yeah, what happened?” Dante planted himself in front of Pierce, his gaze taking in the torn shirt and bloodstains. “Are you hurt, too?” His arms crossed over his chest, his eyebrows knitting in a fierce frown, clearly ready to take on anyone who might be a danger to their family.

“I’m fine, Roxanne’s the only one hurt,” Pierce said. “Found her out on the northernmost corner of the ranch.” Pierce’s jaw tightened. “Someone was using her for target practice.”

“The chair?” Roxanne tipped her head toward the chair Pierce’s mother had indicated. “At least put me down. It’s not like I can’t walk.”

“Yeah, why are you carrying her?” Dante asked. “Are her legs injured, too?”

“She’s not all that steady on her feet. Her horse threw her and she hit her head. I think she might have a concussion.” Pierce relented and eased Roxanne into the chair.

“What were you doing out by the canyons?” Dante asked, turning his focus to Roxanne.

“I was checking on the wild horses.” Roxanne sat in the chair, her chin tipped upward, one hand feeling the back of her head. She winced. “I was following Sweet Jessie. I found her by the watering hole near North Canyon. When I went down to check on her, I heard a loud bang. Something stung my arm and almost knocked me out of the saddle. Whatever nicked me, hit Jessie—most likely in the shoulder, but I couldn’t say for sure. She might have tripped or been hit because I think I saw her drop to the ground before my mount took off. The shooter came after me. That’s when Pierce found us.”

Dante swore. “Did you see who it was?”

Roxanne sighed. “No. I didn’t. He was on a dirt bike in full-coverage gear, including a helmet.”

Tuck entered the room, carrying his baby girl, Lily. “What’s going on?”

His beautiful blonde fiancée, Julia Anderson, followed him. When she noticed Roxanne on the chair, she hurried around to stand in front of her. “Good Lord, Roxanne, are you all right?”

Pierce frowned. Apparently the two women had already met while Pierce had been wrapping up his previous assignment in Bismarck. What else had he missed?

Roxanne smiled. “Don’t worry, Julia, I’ll be fine for the wedding.” She pushed against the seat cushions, preparing to stand.

Julia laid a hand on her uninjured shoulder. “I’m not worried about the wedding. I want to know what happened to you. Holy smokes, you’re bleeding.” Julia reached out to touch Roxanne’s other arm where Pierce had wrapped his shirt around her injury.

“It’s nothing. Just a flesh wound.” Roxanne shot a glance toward Pierce. “Pierce patched me up and it’s not bleeding so badly anymore.”

The baby, clearly picking up on the distress in Julia’s voice, leaned away from Tuck, reaching for her mother.

Julia turned automatically to play with Lily’s hands, rather than take the baby, keeping most of her attention on Roxanne. The baby giggled and buried her face in Tuck’s shirt.

A sharp pang tugged at Roxanne’s gut. She knew things hadn’t been easy for Tuck and Julia. A quickie Vegas-style marriage—followed by an even quicker divorce—had separated the couple only hours after they’d met. Tuck hadn’t even known their brief union had resulted in a daughter until a few weeks earlier. But now that their differences had been worked out, the little family looked so natural and beautiful together, full of so much love and happiness.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Pierce’s oldest brother, Maddox, said as he paced the floor. “Who would want to shoot at you?”

“It doesn’t make sense to you?” Roxanne snorted softly. “I was the one being shot at and it makes no more sense to me. Maybe he wasn’t shooting at me at all. He could have been aiming for the horse for a little target practice.” Her lips tightened. “There are idiots out there that get a kick out of killing defenseless animals.”

Pierce’s jaw clenched. “They’re idiots, all right, but they’re not stupid enough to shoot at the horses in front of a potentially hostile witness. And it’s not like he didn’t realize you were there. If you were in between the shooter and Sweet Jessie, he had to be shooting at you.”

Maddox inhaled and let his breath out slowly. “I’m glad it was only a flesh wound.” His shoulders pushed back and he looked around the room at his younger brothers. “We’d better get out there and see if we can find out who did this.” He turned to Dante and Tuck. “You two take the truck. I’ll take the four-wheeler.”

“I’m going by horse.” Pierce straightened, anger building with each breath he took. Someone had shot at Roxanne, tried to run over her and almost killed her. The bastard needed to be found. If he’d been faster, smarter…maybe he could have taken the guy into custody back in the canyon. It was his fault Roxanne was still in danger. Pierce should have gone after him while he’d had the chance.

Dante grabbed his cowboy hat from the coat tree in the hallway. “We have to find whoever did this. The prairie and canyons are dangerous enough without people shooting at one of us.”

“Who would want to hurt Roxanne?” Tuck handed the baby to Julia, who nestled Lily into the crook of her arm, a frown marring her brow.

“I don’t know, but we sure as hell are going to find out.” Pierce clamped his hat on his head, grabbed a box of bullets from the gun cabinet and headed for his father’s office. For what it was worth, he placed a call to the sheriff’s department. When the dispatcher came on, Pierce explained the situation and the approximate location.

The dispatcher promised the sheriff’s department would be out to investigate as soon as they had a deputy available. Pierce hung up, shrugging. He’d done the right thing by reporting the incident, but he didn’t have a whole lot of faith or respect for the local sheriff. The man still stood by the theory that Pierce’s father had fallen from his horse and died of head injuries. Pierce and his brothers disagreed. No way their father had fallen from his horse. The man could ride before he learned to walk. But the sheriff refused to put in the effort to find the truth. And Pierce refused to let Roxanne’s safety depend on that kind of man. Whether she liked it or not, he still considered her his responsibility. He wouldn’t let her down, not this time. Not again.

Pierce grabbed a couple of walkie-talkies from a shelf and emerged from his father’s office.

At the same time Amelia Thunder Horse reentered the living room, carrying a large tray filled with thermoses of coffee, and plastic bags filled with sandwiches and trail mix. She eyed the box of bullets but didn’t say anything about them. “No one’s leaving without food. You never know what’s going to happen out there on the plains or in the canyons. They didn’t name it the badlands for nothing.”

Pierce tossed a walkie-talkie to Maddox, grabbed a plastic bag of trail mix and one with a sandwich from the tray, snagged a thermos, kissed his mother’s cheek and headed for the door. “Thanks, Mother.”

She called out after him, “Wakan Tanka kici un.” May the Great Spirit bless you.

He smiled, a tug of nostalgia tightening his chest. His mother didn’t often use the Lakota language his father had taught her and all of his sons. Only when a greater need arose.

In the barn, Pierce removed the saddle from Bear, rubbed him down and settled him in a stall with feed. He led his own stallion, Cetan, out of his stall, threw a saddle over his back and cinched it. Pierce was guiding the horse out into the barnyard when a voice called out.

“I’m going with you.”

Pierce turned toward the sound, his pulse quickening, his jaw growing rigid.

Roxanne stood with her feet planted wide, hands fisted on her jean-clad hips—more beautiful than he remembered and just as stubbornly determined.

“We don’t need your help.” Pierce turned his back on the woman and led the horse away from the barn door. “Besides, isn’t the doctor on his way to check out your noggin?”

Roxanne strode for the barn. “I’ve been falling off horses since I was five years old—Doc’s not going to tell me anything about concussions that I don’t already know. But don’t forget, I wasn’t the only one injured. While you boys play detective, someone needs to check on Sweet Jessie, and her foal. I’m the local contact for the Bureau of Land Management when it comes to those horses. It’s my—”

“Responsibility.” Pierce turned back. “And it’s my responsibility to catch that madman with a gun before he gets a chance to come after you again. You’re staying.”

“I’m not your responsibility, and you don’t get to decide where I go. Maddox said I could ride Sassy.” She marched into the barn and grabbed a bridle from a nail on the wall.

“Did the fact escape you that you were the target of a shooter?”

“No, it did not.” She squared her shoulders, standing taller. “I wasn’t prepared before. I’m aware now and will take precautions.”

“And how will you do that?” His gaze panned her lithe form. “You aren’t carrying any kind of protection, are you? Where’s your rifle?”

“I don’t carry one. Besides, you have one.” She frowned. “Look, Pierce, I’m being sensible. I could have snuck off on my own once you were gone, but instead I’m going with you. I’m willing to be careful, I’m willing to take precautions, but I’m not willing to sit around and do nothing when there’s so much that needs to be done. Accept that I’m going and stop wasting precious time by arguing. It’ll be dark soon.”

She held his gaze a moment longer, then disappeared into a stall and emerged leading Sassy, the sorrel mare.

Pierce didn’t wait around to bicker with the confounded woman. He didn’t want to see Roxanne; he wanted the hell away from her, especially when fire blazed in her beautiful eyes and she stood so defiantly.

Planting his foot in the stirrup, he swung up into his saddle and yanked the stallion around to the north. Named after the Lakota word for hawk, Cetan could outrun even the swiftest of the wild horses in the canyon. He could easily outdistance any of the other horses in the barn, if Pierce chose to let him have his head.

But it would be foolish to expend the horse’s energy when they had a long ride ahead of them. Instead of galloping off into the distance, Pierce nudged the stallion into a canter. That way, Roxanne wouldn’t have any trouble catching up with him. He still didn’t like the idea of her riding out while the gunman was still at large, but the idea of her sticking close and letting him protect her was a hell of a lot better than having her ride out alone.

In the short time they’d been in the ranch house, dark clouds had rolled in. The weather in North Dakota could change at the drop of a hat. Thunder rumbled long and low in the west. Wakan Tanka grew angry. Perhaps the Great Spirit reached out to punish those who brought violence to the people and the creatures of the plains.

The approaching storm reflected Pierce’s mood. He growled under his breath. Sure, he’d expected to see Roxanne as part of the wedding party. She and Tuck were the same age and had been friends throughout high school. They had been like brother and sister.

Despite the differences between Pierce and Roxanne, Pierce couldn’t deny Tuck’s request to have Roxanne as one of Julia’s bridesmaids.

He’d told himself that he’d be fine seeing her again, but he’d been wrong. Time hadn’t healed old wounds, as his mother always liked to say. Nothing could cure death. Roxanne had made it clear that when her brother had died, she wanted nothing more to do with Pierce. No wedding, no future…nothing. Even though he knew it was no more than he deserved, it still made his gut twist just to think about it.

All the old feelings he’d had for her hadn’t waned one bit. No amount of dating or bedding other women would wipe Roxanne from his mind. He’d barely even tried, the wounds to his heart still too fresh. He told himself he preferred to be alone. No, he deserved to be alone.

Truth was, no woman measured up to Roxanne and he’d failed her so completely, the damage could never be healed.

At the approaching thunder of hooves, Cetan pranced to the side.

Pierce pulled back on the reins, but the stallion would have none of it. His competitive spirit wouldn’t let another horse catch up or move ahead of him. He arched his back, kicked his hind legs into the air and would have thrown a less experienced rider.

Accustomed to surprising mood swings in the horses he’d tamed from the wild herds of the canyons, Pierce rode out the rough bucking and brought Cetan to a halt.

Roxanne approached with a hint of a smirk curling the corners of her lips.

Pierce’s back teeth ground together. When she pulled in beside him, he eased control on Cetan’s reins and let the stallion take the lead in a steady trot. Pierce didn’t speak or acknowledge her presence. He was afraid of what he might say. Yet, he kept an eye on Roxanne, just in case. She was hurt, and she was in danger. Even though she hated him, he knew he couldn’t live with himself unless he kept her safe.

ROXANNE’S GAZE BORED into Pierce’s back. She should have ridden with Dante and Tuck in the truck. But she knew where she was most comfortable. When trouble struck the badlands of North Dakota, Roxanne preferred to be in the saddle. Besides, she was more likely to find Sweet Jessie and her foal off the beaten path, and they were her priority right now.

The fact that she had been injured, along with Sweet Jessie, wasn’t something Roxanne let herself think about. She didn’t know why anyone would choose to target her—or if he would try to attack her again—but sitting around and thinking about it would drive her crazy. With all the problems she’d been having with the ranch and her finances, the thought of another disaster in her life threatened to crack her self-control. The only way she knew to deal with the strain was to focus on something else—a problem she could fix.

Checking on the horses fit the bill, even if it meant riding with her ex-fiancé.

She’d avoided Pierce since her brother’s death. The only time she saw him was from a distance when they happened to be in Medora, the small town where she purchased supplies. She had noticed that Pierce hadn’t been home much since the explosion, and why should he? His work with the FBI kept him busy. Just like it had kept Mason busy when Pierce had lured him into that danger-filled world.

A booming clap of thunder shook the earth and air around her. The mare beneath her skittered sideways, tossing her head in the air with a frightened whinny.

Roxanne glanced at the incoming storm, doubt tugging at her gut. Maybe they should have waited until the following day to be out on the prairie. With no trees within sight, that left the two horses and riders as the tallest spires within miles—lightning rods for what looked like a nasty storm about to break over the landscape. Easy targets for a determined shooter, should he choose to return. But no, she wasn’t letting herself think about that now. She’d set a mission for herself, and she wasn’t going home until it was completed.

A flash of lightning snaked across the sky, followed closely by an answering rumble. Sassy pulled against the reins and swung back toward the barn and shelter from the oncoming storm.

Roxanne struggled to turn the horse in the direction Pierce and his stallion rode. They had to get to the watering hole and find Sweet Jessie and her foal before wolves or two-legged snakes claimed their lives. The rain would wash away the horse tracks…and the tracks of the dirt bike the Thunder Horse brothers would use to try to track down her shooter.

Ahead, Pierce sat tall in the saddle, his shoulders broad, his dark Lakota hair hanging down just below his collar, straight, thick and jet-black. The cowboy hat on his head shielded his eyes from what little light shone around the approaching cloud bank. Every time Pierce glanced behind him, Roxanne’s heart flipped, stuttered and burst into a frantic pattering.

Damn the man. He’d always had that effect on her. When would she ever get over him? No man had ever captured her heart or imagination like Pierce Thunder Horse.

The truck with two of the other Thunder Horse brothers passed them, followed soon by the four-wheeler. They honked and swung wide of Pierce and Roxanne, kicking up a cloud of dust from the dry prairie floor.

Roxanne settled into a bone-jarring canter, slow enough to conserve the horse’s energy. If they had to go down into the canyon to find Sweet Jessie and her foal, the rain would make the trail even more dangerous than it already was.

Sassy would need all her strength for a coordinated and sure-footed descent.

As they neared the watering hole, Roxanne let out a sigh, half-relieved when she didn’t find the wild mare’s body in the dirt. The wound mustn’t have been too bad, if she was able to get up and leave the area. Still, Roxanne wanted to gauge for herself.

Pierce paused briefly at the watering hole to check for hoofprints and tire tracks, and to compare notes with his brothers.

Roxanne urged her mare slowly toward the canyon’s rim, her gaze darting right and left as well as scanning the ground. Having been shot at once made her paranoid. Every noise caused her to jump. She tried to force herself to focus. The brothers were taking care of the shooter—Roxanne’s job was to take care of the wild horses. She couldn’t let herself get distracted from that. If she did, she’d be reminded how vulnerable and frightened she felt at the thought of a gunman on her trail.

Sweet Jessie had been shot by the pond. The herd had to have been close by at the time of the shooting. Noise from the gunshot would have sent them into the canyon to hide.

In the dirt leading away from the watering hole, Roxanne discovered a trail of dark brown dots. Dried blood and hoofprints. At first they headed for the canyon, but the prints veered south before reaching the canyon’s edge. Unfortunately, where Sweet Jessie’s prints headed south, another, smaller set of hoofprints led directly to the canyon.

“The foal and mare are separated.” Roxanne glanced across at Pierce as he came abreast. “The little one won’t stand a chance if she doesn’t find her mother soon.”

At the edge of the gorge, Roxanne paused, searching for the trailhead where the horses would have dropped down into the canyon below.

“Are you trying to get shot again?” Pierce angled his horse in front of hers. “You’re exposed here on the edge of the canyon. If someone wanted to shoot you once, wouldn’t you think they might be interested in shooting at you again?”

“And like I said to you before, if someone wanted to shoot me, there are better places for them to try than here where there’s next to no cover to get a good position—especially now that I’m surrounded by angry-looking men with guns.” She straightened her shoulders, her gaze darting toward the canyon below. “I refuse to run scared. There’s a foal down there who will die without her mother. Lead, follow or get out of my way.”

Pierce’s brows dipped. “You’re a stubborn woman. Anywhere along the trail is easy pickings if someone is down there in the canyon aiming up.”

“Do you see any tire tracks leading down into the canyon?”

Pierce leaned over in the saddle, scanning the trailhead. “No. But this might not be the trail he used to get down there.”

“You do see horse tracks, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

Roxanne raised her gaze to the sky again. “If we don’t hurry, it won’t matter. The rain will keep us from finding the foal. She could die and no one will care but me.”

He shifted in his saddle, glancing out across the gorge, squinting. Finally he faced her. “Damn it, Roxanne, I care.”

She waved her hand toward the trail, choosing to ignore his statement. “Then let’s go.”

“Wait here.” Pierce took off at a trot toward his brothers. Over his shoulder he called out. “And I mean wait.”

Roxanne’s gaze followed him.

Pierce conferred with his brothers and returned, reining in beside her and her mare. “They want to stay up top and continue searching for clues as to who the shooter might be before the rain washes away any evidence, but Maddox will cover us while we go down.”

“Good.” She didn’t wait for him. Pressing her heels into Sassy’s flanks, she clucked her tongue and spoke softly to the horse as she picked her way down the steep and narrow trail.

Roxanne focused on the path ahead, refusing to look to her side where the ground dropped away in a slope too steep for man or beast. If a shooter popped off a round, he wouldn’t even have to hit her. The noise alone could cause her horse to spook and toss her or, worse, tumble down the steep slope with her. And even without the shooter, if her mount took one faulty step, both horse and rider would plummet to the bottom of the canyon with nothing to slow their fall.

Her breath wedging in her throat, Roxanne clung to the saddle horn, her fingers light on the reins, giving the horse her head. Roxanne’s feet dug into the stirrups as she leaned back in the saddle to keep from pitching forward. Sassy picked her way to the bottom at her own pace.

About halfway down, the sky opened, rain gushing from it like a fire hose spraying down full blast.

Blinded by the torrent, Roxanne could do nothing but hold on and pray Sassy remained sure-footed as the trail turned slippery and more treacherous by the minute.

Not until the path leveled out and the canyon floor rose up to meet them did Roxanne release the breath she’d been holding and push the hair out of her face to glance behind her.

Cetan descended, easing his way down the last few feet of the narrow trail. Rain dripped from the edges of Pierce’s cowboy hat, his face set in stone beneath the brim.

“We’ll be lucky to find the foal in this,” Roxanne called out as Pierce reined in beside her.

“We’re here, we might as well try.” His heels pressed into his horse’s sides and he headed north along the base of the cliffs rising up beside him.

Her head down, Roxanne wished she’d taken time to grab a cowboy hat at the Thunder Horse Ranch. Hers had been lost earlier in her wild ride to get away from the shooter. She could barely see through the rain running down her face. Sassy fell in step behind Cetan, seemingly content to let the larger horse lead as they pushed forward.

Roxanne followed the man she’d sworn to hate for the rest of her life. Weak and tired from the long ride and the injuries she’d sustained from being shot and thrown, she did something she swore she’d never do again. She let the tears she’d been holding back for two months, mingle with the rain coursing down her cheeks.

If Pierce looked behind him, all he’d see was a pathetically wet woman with water streaming down her face on the back of a bedraggled horse. He would never know she cried.

After riding in the torrential downpour for several hundred yards, Pierce’s horse tossed his head into the air and took off.

Startled by the sudden movement, Sassy danced sideways.

Blinded by the rain in her eyes, Roxanne scrubbed a hand across her face and peered ahead.

Several yards in front of Pierce a blurry shadow darted toward the shallow river cutting through the center of the narrow canyon. The foal? She could only hope so. Because if it was the shooter, she didn’t know what she could do to protect herself.