Her Texas Cowboy Protector (The Winchester Cowboys #3)

Chapter Nine

The third week of November, Landon glanced in his rear-view mirror on Mexico Highway 85 which was actually a continuation of US Highway 35. Considering this, though, traffic was fairly light. As the Potrero Chico website had suggested, he’d filled up with gas in Laredo, where it was cheaper. They’d made it through the border crossing with no problems, despite the fact that he had his SIG SAUER under his seat. Natalie sat beside him, and their two friends sat in the back.

“I’ve never been farther than Nuevo Laredo in this part of Mexico,” Rachel said. “This is exciting.”

“This is a great road,” Jordan said. “We should make good time if it stays this way.”

“I hope so. We might even get one of the easy climbs in before dark if that’s the case,” Landon said as he glanced at Natalie. She was digging in her purse. “Did you forget something?”

“I hope not. I brought my sleeping medication, and I thought I put it in my purse, but I’m not finding it.” She dropped the purse between her feet again. “Maybe I put it in my suitcase after all.”

They’d left Austin at five that morning, and by the time they’d made it through the border crossing, it had been nearly nine-thirty. He glanced at the clock on the dash. They’d been on this road about thirty minutes now.

Natalie leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “Five o’clock came way too early. I’m taking a nap.”

“Let me know if you want me to drive,” Jordan said.

“I’m good, but thanks,” Landon said, glancing in the rearview mirror. Jordan looked bright-eyed and ready to go. Smiling, he returned his attention to the road.

His eyes narrowed. What was that up ahead? An accident?

As he got closer, his heart began to pound. Not an accident. Two black Humvees blocked the road. He looked in his rear-view mirror. There were several cars behind him, but not too close.

As his truck neared the blockade, armed men emerged from behind the vehicles. Damn! “We have a big problem, guys!” He hit the brakes hard, then threw the truck into reverse.

Jordan peered between the seats. “Shit! This isn’t good.”

Gunshots sounded, and then a bullet pinged off the truck.

Rachel screamed.

Natalie yelled, “Oh my God!”

Landon stopped abruptly as two of the armed men approached, semiautomatic rifles pointed at the windshield. The cars behind them had halted a ways back. Moving stealthily, he took his SIG out and slipped it into the back of his waistband. “Everybody stay calm. Let’s find out what they want.” He rolled down his window, his heart racing so fast he could hear it pulsing in his ears.

The men split up, one coming to his side, the other approaching the passenger side where Natalie sat.

In heavily accented English, the men screamed for them to get out of the truck.

“Do as they say,” he said, and unlocked the doors.

Rachel began to cry.

“It’s okay, honey,” Jordan said.

The man grabbed Natalie’s arm, and she lost her balance getting out, almost taking a tumble.

“Careful!” Landon yelled.

The man on his side said, “Shut up!”

The man who had Natalie reached in and got her purse.

The men shoved them all toward their vehicles as Rachel began to cry in earnest. One of the men slapped her, nearly knocking her to the ground. He held Rachel’s purse in his other hand.

“Hold on!” Jordan said as he lurched toward her.

The other man punched him in the head, sending him sprawling, then yelled, “Get up!”

Jordan rose to his hands and knees, then slowly got to his feet, obviously woozy.

Two other men stood in front of the black vehicles, and another was behind the driver’s side. The man who’d approached Landon’s door seemed to be the leader. “You are from Texas,” he said.

The guy had obviously looked at his truck plates. “Yeah, we are.”

The man nodded. “You will come with us.”

This was it. They were being kidnapped. He’d hoped that the men just wanted their money. He had to do something. Glancing at the two men by the vehicles, he saw that they didn’t have their guns out. The two next to him came first, then.

In a lightning movement, he drew his gun and shot the man next to Natalie in the chest. His next shot found the leader just as he raised his gun to shoot. The man went down with a bullet in his neck. Not where he’d been aiming for, but it did the trick.

By then, the two men at the vehicles had their weapons out. He didn’t know where the one on the driver’s side was.

Natalie, Rachel and Jordan had dropped to the ground.

He shot the man nearest to the left Humvee, but only winged him in the arm. The guy spun around, out of commission for the moment.

Landon spotted a man come around the back of the nearest Humvee and then felt a jolt and a searing pain as a bullet ricocheted off his SIG and grazed his hand. As his gun spun out of his hand, the man he’d seen lunged at him, pistol whipping him on his temple. The last thing he saw before blackness overwhelmed him was the other man yelling at the three Americans, kicking them and getting them to their feet.

Shaking with fear and dread, Natalie bit her lip hard to control her wildly out-of-control emotions. How badly was Landon hurt? He’d been limp and unconscious when they’d dumped him into the back of the other Humvee. Where were these men taking them? And what would happen to them when they got there? A tremor ran through her, and she bit her lip harder. It was important not to cry or call attention to herself. Rachel, up front, was doing enough of that for both of them.

Just then the driver snarled something in Spanish and backhanded her friend.

Rachel’s head smashed into the side window, and she shrieked in pain. A second later, blood poured from her nose. She looked over her shoulder at Natalie, her eyes wild with panic and agony.

“Be quiet, Rachel. You’ve got to stop crying. Do whatever you have to, just shut up or he’ll hurt you worse!” she said.

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut, and her sobs slowly quieted. She turned to the window and swiped at her bloody nose.

Natalie glanced at the man with the wounded arm next to her. He’d tied a bandanna on it and was leering at her breasts through her flannel shirt. Fear swept through her. Would he rape her when they arrived at their destination? She thought of Landon again as she’d seen him last. Tears filled her eyes, and she turned to the window.

The man up front said, “Phones, now!”

Hers was in her shirt pocket, and she slowly handed it forward.

Rachel drew hers from her back jeans pocket.

The man put them in the center console, seeming satisfied for the moment.

She saw Rachel look in the side mirror. Jordan was in the SUV behind them as well. Was he okay? She hated it that they were separated. Would the four of them be held for ransom, or was this a human-trafficking thing where only the women were valuable? Both options were awful.

They soon left the highway, and after what seemed like a long time, they were taken to an old run-down house in the middle of nowhere. The land around it was parched and barren.

The men dragged them out of the Humvee and to her relief, she saw that a groggy Landon staggered out of the other vehicle which had pulled up behind them. She tried to catch his eye, but he seemed woozy and stared vaguely around him. Jordan looked over at her and nodded.

They were ushered inside the house. Both Landon and Jordan were made to give over their wallets. After their hands and ankles were zip-tied, they were all told to sit on a decrepit old sectional sofa. Landon’s hand was still bleeding, and he cried out as the man securing his hands yanked them together. The three men went into the kitchen and, as they talked, the discussion became heated. Was it because their leader had been killed and they couldn’t agree on how to proceed?

Natalie leaned against Rachel. “You okay, honey? Looks like your nose stopped bleeding.”

Rachel’s face screwed up as though she might cry again, but then she swallowed hard, and her face calmed. “What are they going to do to us?” Her voice trembled and rose in volume at the end.

“They’ll find Landon’s truck and know something’s wrong. Somebody’ll come for us, honey, don’t worry,” Jordan said.

“You think so?” Rachel’s face lit up with hope.

“I sure do. The authorities’ll be all over this. We just have to stay strong,” Jordan said.

“Jordan’s right. They’ll be looking for us,” Natalie said. She leaned her shoulder against Landon who had his eyes closed and a pained look on his face. “How’re you doing, honey? I saw that asshole hit you in the head. Are you dizzy? Nauseated?”

He opened his eyes and said quietly. “Both. Bad.” Then he really looked at her for the first time. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop this. I’d hoped to take them down.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Hey, you got two of them. You did great. Now we only have to deal with three of the creeps.”

He closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. When he opened them, he seemed more himself. In a whisper, he said, “I’ve got a knife in my front pocket. While they’re busy, try to get it out.”

She nodded. Being armed was a hell of a lot better than sitting here helplessly. She turned toward him and dug her fingers into his pocket. He stretched out his body to allow her better access. After a moment of fumbling, the knife came out and she quickly handed it to him. He slid it under his thigh and resumed his former position.

She leaned back against the sofa with a sense of euphoria. Landon, her protector, was with her and he was armed. Somehow, they’d all be safe.

The men were still arguing in the kitchen. Although she’d taken Spanish as her second language in high school and college, she couldn’t make out anything they were saying from the living room. A radio played loud Spanish music in the background.

Finally, after what she thought must have been thirty minutes of arguing, someone stormed out of the house and a Humvee could be heard roaring away. Was it the man who’d been shot going for medical attention? She wished they’d do something about Landon’s injured hand. She stifled a moan. Her hands were bound so tightly they hurt like hell.

A man with full sleeve tattoos on his arms walked into the living room. His shaved head was tattooed as well.

“May I use the bathroom?” Rachel asked.

“Shut up!” he snarled and walked down the hallway to the back of the house.

Later, at nightfall, they were given simple egg-and-bean tacos on corn tortillas. They ate with their hands cuffed and were given nothing to drink.

Her mind flitted from one awful thing to another. The wound on Landon’s hand had finally quit bleeding but it looked deep and ragged. It would probably get infected. Their captors had still done nothing to treat it. God, she needed a bathroom so badly. And poor Rachel. By the smell rising from her direction, she’d lost her battle to hold in her urine. After all, they hadn’t had the use of a restroom since early that morning.

She sighed, exhausted, and adjusted her seat on the sofa, but there was no way to get comfortable on the broken-down piece of furniture. Were her parents aware yet that she’d been kidnapped? God, they’d be terrified. To stop that train of thought, she glanced around the room. Was there anything she could use as a weapon if they were to get free?

There were shelves, mostly empty, but a heavy-looking Madonna statue was a possibility. The end table by an old recliner was covered in old take-out trash. Would there be a plastic knife there? Maybe she could sharpen that somehow and make a weapon. She whispered her ideas to Landon, and he nodded.

Her anxiety had risen with each passing hour, and she knew she needed to do something about that. No matter what, she must stay in control. They had to look for an opening in the kidnappers’ defenses, had to try to get loose.

She couldn’t afford to let fear take hold. She couldn’t think about what might happen. She sighed. She had to focus on staying alive, had to go deep inside herself and find the courage to endure.

She looked at Rachel and said quietly, “Be strong. Don’t be afraid, no matter what. That’s how we’ll make it through this.”

“I agree,” Jordan said. “We stay strong.”

The tattooed man who’d gone to the back of the house walked in again. This time, he had a gun with him. He sat down across from them and stared. Then he raised his gun and pointed it at Rachel. “I don’t like you, puta.” He kept pointing it at her, and suddenly she began to cry. The sound was loud and grating. The man swore and came toward them, swiftly punching Rachel in the face. Her head rocked back against the couch, and she screamed.

Jordan yelled furiously at the man, and the guy hammered Jordan with a right to the jaw.

Rachel cried wildly, and the guy punched her again. This time, she choked back the sound she made.

“Quit that!” Natalie cried and lurched toward the man.

The guy backhanded her hard.

She screamed in pain and blood flew from her nose and mouth.

“Damn you!” Landon yelled and, although his ankles were zip-tied, he rose unsteadily to his feet, his expression furious.

The man spun toward him and smashed him in the face with the butt of his gun. Blood spurted from Landon’s nose, but he didn’t cry out. Instead, he stared furiously at the kidnapper.

The man shoved Landon back down onto the sofa, then, as if disgusted by it all, he stalked off toward the kitchen.

Landon touched Natalie’s chin, turning her toward him as blood ran furiously from his nose. “I’m so sorry, honey. I can’t tell you how angry I am at myself right now. I should never have suggested that we drive in Mexico. We should have flown. We could have taken a taxi out to Potrero Chico. It would have been expensive but so much safer.”

Although talking was sheer agony with her split lip, she said, “I didn’t think this would happen, either, so don’t you take the blame. We just had bad luck, is all.” She rubbed at the blood pouring from his nose. “God, this looks bad. The bridge of your nose is cut, and the whole thing looks crooked.”

He shrugged. “Nothing we can do about it now.” He blotted at his nose with his shirt sleeve and sighed.

She turned to Rachel as her friend stifled her desperate sobs, blood running thickly from her broken nose, her face swollen and already turning purple. Natalie said furiously, “That bastard! He had no right to do this to us.”

Jordan, whose mouth was bleeding, took Rachel’s hands. “Baby, sweetheart, I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him. I feel terrible.”

Natalie drew in a deep, calming breath through her painful mouth. Her nose was still full of blood. If this was a kidnapping for ransom, it was obvious that the men didn’t care what condition they returned their captives in. That is, if they gave them back at all.

Fear stabbed her chest, taking her breath away. That was a real consideration. The kidnappers could take the ransom money and kill the four of them anyway. The men weren’t hiding their faces, after all. She squeezed her eyes shut as despair overwhelmed her. Was someone really out there looking for them?

Despite that hope, a tiny voice in her head said, “We’ll all die here.”