Ransom At Christmas. Barb Han
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the threat to the herd still loomed.
Life was beginning to return to normal around the ranch. And normal for a rancher meant up by 4:00 a.m. every day. Will suppressed a yawn. Early mornings had been always been Mitch’s thing, not Will’s. He’d never been a morning person. His night-owl tendencies were being pushed to their limits since moving back to the ranch to work full-time.
Will, like everyone in his family, was paying extra attention to the threat to their livestock. So far, only one heifer had been affected, but who knew where this would ultimately end. Their cousin, Zach McWilliams, was the sheriff and he had no leads in the case, which had horrified and disturbed the bedroom community of Jacobstown. He tugged at the collar of his shirt.
Anger caused Will’s shoulder blades to lock up. Hurting an innocent animal, whether out of ignorance or blatant torture, was right up there on the list of things Will would never tolerate. Especially not animals in his and his family’s trust.
The Kent family fortune had been made from owning thousands of acres of land across Texas and the accompanying mineral rights. Their mother, the matriarch, had passed away four years ago and their father nearly two years later. Will and his siblings had inherited the ranch and all its holdings, and were sewing up other business pursuits as each made his or her way to living on the land full-time.
Will circled the base of Rushing Creek again in order to cover the area one more time. Normally being out on the land brought a sense of peace. Not today. Not since the heifer.
Other than the occasional and rare prank of cow tipping, the ranch was normally a peaceful place and Jacobstown would be considered a sleepy town by most people’s standards. The kind where everyone was on a first name basis, a handshake was considered similar to a legal document and the streets rolled up by eight o’clock every night. Will ran his finger along the shirt of his collar again, needing a little more breathing room.
He took in a deep breath, trying to breathe a sense of calm into his soul. He was restless. Had been since the heifer. Longer than that if he was being honest. Analyzing himself like a shrink wasn’t at the top of his list. Protecting the herd was, however, and he was all-in when it came to the animals on his family land.
A streak of white caught his eye in the distance. He couldn’t see clearly between the trees and it was most likely nothing. But he turned his horse toward the object, anyway.
As Domino moved closer to the area, Will could see more movement. The white figure was zigzagging between trees and he could tell someone was on the move. A woman?
He nudged Domino into a trot. At the faster pace, the person was no match for his horse, even as he slowed his horse enough to wind through the thickening trees.
“Stop!” Will shouted, not wanting to surprise the person. He was close enough to see that the material was expensive and was wedding-dress white. It was some type of gown that trailed behind her as she whipped in and out of the trees. The cloud-puff-looking garment alternated between the trees, flowing behind her. The scene was something out of a bride’s magazine and was oddly mesmerizing. It also caused his chest to squeeze.
She kept running, which made her look guilty of something quite frankly. He doubted she was responsible for the heifer but she was up to something or she would have stopped when he called out to her. Innocent people didn’t run.
The trees slowed Domino’s pace as he wound through the tall oaks and mesquites that were abundant as they tracked White Dress.
There was something frantic about her pace and the way she zigzagged through the woods. Was she running from someone besides him?
Nah. He shook off the possibility.
“Hold on there.” He decided to take a different tack and intentionally softened his voice. “Do you need help?”
Domino’s pace slowed to a crawl as the woods thickened near the eastern fencing. Kent land stretched miles beyond this area. Where did White Dress think she was going?
“Whoa,” Will said to his horse.
Domino’s size was getting in the way of being nimble enough to catch her. At this point, Will could walk faster.
He climbed off his horse and tied Domino to a tree. He patted his gelding. “This shouldn’t take long. I’ll be right back, buddy.”
From behind, he could see that White Dress was five-and-a-half-feet tall, give or take. As he moved closer, he saw streaks of red on her dress. Blood? Was she hurt?
Her warm brown hair with streaks of honey looked more like a galloping horse’s mane, shiny and flowing as the wind whipped it around.
“Slow down. I have no plans to hurt you,” he said.
She glanced back at him and the look on her face was a punch to his gut. There was so much desperation and fear.
As he got closer, he could see that she wore a short-sleeved lacy wedding dress that fell just below the knee and a pair of dress boots with an intricate teal inlay. Will was gaining on her but not because he was increasing his speed. White Dress was slowing down and she seemed to be stumbling over her boots a little bit. His mind took a different turn. Was she under the influence of something?
She grabbed onto a tree trunk before glancing back at him. She was just far enough ahead for him to barely make out the details of her face. The woman was a looker with those hauntingly beautiful eyes. There was no argument about that. She held onto that tree like gravity would shoot her into the clouds if she let go.
“Who are you?” Will asked again, using the softer tone. She wore the expression of a frightened animal as she made another run for it.
White Dress’s boot must’ve caught on something because she vaulted forward and narrowly missed planting the crown of her head against an oak tree’s trunk when she landed. She popped up onto all fours and tried to scramble away. Her movements were awkward and wobbly, causing more questions to flood him. Had she hit her head? Had she lost a lot of blood and was about to pass out?
Then again, she might’ve been drinking and gotten hurt. He’d seen more than a few instances of hormone-infused good-ol’-boy drinking and the ensuing antics.
Growing up on the family ranch, he’d seen everything from cow-tipping to the south pasture accidentally catching on fire because of a gang of intoxicated teens. They’d claimed to be unaware the state was in a drought when they’d decided to roast hot dogs on a campfire at three o’clock in the morning after sneaking out.
“Look. I’m not going to hurt you so you might as well stop and tell me what you’re doing on my family’s land.” This time, he let his frustration seep in his tone. He didn’t have time for this. It was getting late in the day and he needed to head back to the ranch.
White Dress seemed determined to get away from him. He’d give her that. So, he jogged ahead of her and turned around to face her.
Those violet eyes of hers—filled with an interesting mix of sheer determination and panic—fixated on him as she managed to stumble to her feet and hold onto another tree trunk.
“We can do this for as long as you’d like. But you’re on my land and I’m not going anywhere until I know why you’re here and that you’ll leave safely.” He stood in an athletic stance, ready to take action the second she bolted.
“Then help me.” Her words slurred and for another split second he wondered if she’d been drinking.
“Tell me your name and I’ll see what I can do.” He fished out his cell, keeping an eye on her. For all he knew her tipsiness could be an act and she could take off again once he was distracted.
She hesitated. Her grip on the tree trunk was white-knuckled.
“My name’s Will Kent.” He figured a little goodwill would go a long way toward winning her trust. She had that frightened-animal look that came right before a bite. A scared animal could do a lot of damage.
On closer look, she