Sophie Oak - Three to Ride

The flashlight told the story. That back tire had finally given up the ghost. It couldn’t have picked a worse time. There was no way to change the tire here. She would have to get the Jeep towed. Once that happened, she would never see it again. She knew Max. Max would have a new car shipped in before the old one could get to the shop. She sighed and started to walk.

And really, what was wrong with that? Max wanted her to have a new car. She probably needed one. It worried him every time she drove off. If he needed one and she had the money to buy it for him, she would. Why was she fighting him?

She breathed in the slightly cool night air and knew why. She was afraid. She was afraid of depending on him and Rye. She was terrified it would all go wrong if she let go. It was easier to tell herself that she didn’t really need them. They were just fun and sexy. They didn’t really matter in the end. She could only count on herself.

The truth was people ran when the going got tough. Rachel had seen it firsthand when Tommy Lane came into her life. When it became obvious she had a crazy stalker in her life, her friends had fallen by the wayside. Some of them had tried to stick it out, but in the end, they had protected themselves. Her best friend Alison’s tires had been slashed when Rachel had stayed at her house. Alison had a baby to think about. Rachel didn’t really blame Alison for pulling away, but it had taught her a lesson. It was the real reason she hadn’t mentioned her little problem to the boys. She was afraid that once they heard about all the trouble following her they would rethink the relationship.

Rachel pointed the flashlight. In the distance she could see the turnoff to Mel’s place. There was a light from his cabin. It was so dark here, she thought with a little shiver. The darkness was a soft thing when she was at home, but now it seemed foreboding. That little light in the distance was warm and welcoming.

It was ridiculous. Home was less than half a mile away. She wasn’t going to run to the town’s craziest conspiracy theorist for protection from the dark. She would walk right past his drive and march straight home.

Rachel heard a sound behind her. She turned and looked back up the road. There was a car coming, but she couldn’t see the lights. She heard the car stop, probably taking a look at her own abandoned vehicle. Her car was taking up a lot of the road. It was only natural a local would stop to try to figure out if someone needed help. It could even be Rye coming home, she reasoned and started to turn back.

She stopped. Rye wouldn’t be driving without his headlights on. Why would anyone be driving on a dangerous road with their headlights off? Rachel’s stomach turned as panic started to take over. Shouldn’t the person have called out by now? Whoever was looking over her car was doing it very quietly. She clicked off the flashlight, not wanting to give away her position. In the moonlight she could see the vague outline of a body moving around her car. She would bet it was a man. He was stocky, but then it could be a solidly built woman. There were a whole lot of those around here.

Everything instinct she had told her to run. If he’d found her, there would be no time to rethink her decision. It wouldn’t be the first time Tommy had caught up to her. Barely breathing, Rachel started to move off the road onto the grass. She would be quieter there, and she needed to get to Mel’s. Mel had a phone, a landline. He thought it was monitored by the alien invasion force, but it worked. She would hole up and call Rye. Her heart was pounding as she watched to see if the shadowy figure was following. All of the terror of the last few years of her life was suddenly riding her hard. She was a mass of survival instincts. Every one of them was focused on one thing, the road in front of her. If everything was all right, then the car would either drive by or someone would call out her name looking for her. Everyone in town knew she drove that Jeep. If everything was all right, she would hear someone yelling for “Rachel,” and she would recognize the voice.

Rachel moved behind the tree line as it became clear everything was not all right. There was almost no sound except the dirt crunching as someone walked down the road. Around the corner, a light suddenly came into view. Someone had a flashlight, and he was looking for her.

Without another thought, Rachel ran. She dropped her own flashlight. She simply ran toward the cabin in the distance. She tried to be as quiet as she could, but she was running on adrenaline and panic. Her feet sounded through the woods. She would have sworn she could feel the moment he caught sight of her and began his pursuit.

Rachel turned her head as she ran, trying to catch a glimpse of the man chasing her. She knew who it was. There was no question. He’d found her, and he was going to do what he had always promised. He was going to gut her. He was going to bathe in her blood. Tears were streaming down her face as she prayed to anyone who would listen.

She saw something in the distance, but it was vague and blurry. It didn’t matter. She could feel him watching her. She knew he was hunting her. Tree limbs slapped her in the face, but she ignored them. She was wearing a short skirt and sneakers. The brush felt like it was cutting her legs. She kept running. When she stumbled, she popped up as fast as she could, completely ignoring the ache in her knee. None of it would matter if he caught her.

She could hear him moving. He was silent, but in her panic it was as though the very trees were calling her name.

“Liz,” she heard them whisper.

But she wasn’t Liz anymore, she thought savagely as she ran. She was Rachel. She was stronger than she had been before. He might have her on the run now, but she would get away. She would survive.

She ran into something solid and fell back on her butt. There was a moment of complete terror until she looked up and saw Mel standing over her. He was a slender man, but now he seemed really solid to her in his army fatigues. He held a huge gun in his hands. His eyes were searching the woods. He might be a freaky man, but he was competent with a gun.

“Is it time?” Mel asked, reaching down and hauling her up.

She stood beside him. He pressed something into her hand. It was cold and made of metal. It was a handgun. She immediately flicked the safety off and took a protective stance. She’d learned to use a gun when she realized the cops couldn’t protect her. She remembered the day like it was yesterday. She’d been sitting down to lunch when Tommy joined her. He’d told her all the things he intended to do to her if she didn’t come back to him. She’d threatened to call the police. He’d simply laughed and told her to prove it. He’d killed her dog the next day, and Rachel had applied for a gun permit.

“Has the invasion started?”

Her voice was shaky as she replied. “No, Mel, I think it’s just a man.”

“That’s what they want you to think,” Mel said sensibly. “I just want to know if it’s the good guys or the bad guys.”

“There are good guys?” Rachel had only heard about the bad ones.

“Oh, sure.” Mel was calm and collected as though they were talking about the weather instead of standing at attention with firearms ready to kill anything that moved. “There are some good ones out there. They get lost, or they’re on the run from the bad guys. There’s always good guys and bad guys, Miss Rachel. That’s how the world works.” He listened for a moment. “But whoever was out there is gone now.”

In the distance, a car drove past. Its lights were on now. She couldn’t be sure if it was the same car. Now she felt a little foolish. She hadn’t really seen anything except someone checking out a car left on the road. It had probably been spooked campers.

“Why don’t you come up to the house?” Mel offered. “I’ve got some soup, and we can call your men to come get you.”

Rachel nodded and started to follow him. She looked back into the woods, but all was silent now.

“And Miss Rachel, I think you should stay away from those Kent boys,” Mel said seriously, proving the grapevine worked. “Those two seem like nothing but trouble. I don’t think old Max will take kindly to it, and Rye will probably throw them in jail.”

The door to Mel’s cabin opened. Rachel shook off her panic. She was safe here in Bliss.

“Where did she go now?” Max turned and looked around the wide, expansive park that housed the picnic grounds. His heart seized a little as he realized he couldn’t see Rachel anymore.

“She’s with Stella,” Rye replied calmly from the ground where he was relaxing. He rested back on his elbows, looking over the crowd. The grounds were covered with people picnicking on blankets, quilts, or making do with the soft grass. There were several tents around the perimeter where people were serving food or offering goods for sale. A large stage was set up at the edge of the park.

Everyone was out for Founder’s Day. It was a day to celebrate Bliss’s long history and the great men and women who had built the town. No one mentioned that the town had really only been in existence since 1968, when a group of hippies decided it would make a nice commune. Max smiled as he watched Rachel passing out slices of peach pie. His own mama had been one of those hippies. She’d met their dad and become a rancher’s wife. Max and Rye had been the first children born in Bliss. His mother would have loved Rachel, Max thought wistfully.

“Rachel would have gotten along great with Mom, you know,” Rye said in one of those frequent moments when they were thinking the same thing. Max didn’t question it. It was just one of those twin things. It had been like that all their lives. Max felt a little sorry for all the people who didn’t have it.

“I’m just glad she seems to get along with Brooke.” Max stared at Rachel, wondering just how she’d gotten past Brooke’s defenses. Brooke had started talking to Rachel on the phone every couple of days. He knew his baby sister was a hellion. Brooke had scared off more than one female before. She’d been pleased with Rachel, though. She was already talking about making Rachel’s wedding dress. Rachel had protested that it was a little early for that. She had no idea that he and Rye were already looking for rings. After Monday, they would make it plain what they needed from her. Max just had to hope she could accept it.

Stefan was stepping up to the stage to announce the next set of auction items. A whole load of local art had already been auctioned off. Some of the local businesses had put items up as well. Stella had offered up a package that included a Pie of the Month membership. The Bliss Repertory Theater had offered season tickets. Henry and Nell had offered performance art lessons. All proceeds would go to the Talbot Foundation, a scholarship program for artists.

Max was getting impatient. He’d come because Rachel had ordered him to. He was anxious to get back to the ranch and work. He wanted to bundle Rachel up and take her back there, too. Last night had just about given him a heart attack. First there had been the moment he and Rye had walked into the diner and realized she wasn’t there. After Rye made him calm down, they had started up the route she would have taken to get home. They’d made it to her abandoned Jeep when Callie called over the Bronco’s radio telling them Mel had Rachel at his cabin. He owed that crazy and promised to listen to at least one long conspiracy theory a month in payment. He would nod and not interrupt. It was a sacrifice, but well worth it.

Rachel was calm by the time they had gotten to Mel’s, but Max knew she’d had a bad night. He’d cradled her while she slept, promising himself that, after Monday, she would still be in his arms.

“Damn, brother,” a cocky voice said, “that really is one gorgeous girl.”

Max looked up and noted that Rye’s attention was now focused on the two young cowboys standing not far from the blanket Rachel had smoothed out for them at the beginning of the picnic. Max grinned. He remembered what it was like to be twenty-something. He’d been an ignorant ass, too. And he and Rye had had one thing on their minds.

Max looked around, trying to figure out which young lady had caught the brothers’ eyes.

“You’re right about that,” the taller one said. He had his hands on his waist. There was an enormous buckle on his belt proclaiming him the rodeo champion of something or other.

Rye and Max exchanged a look. Max immediately knew these were brothers who shared their toys. He knew his brother was thinking the same thing he was. Those boys were on the prowl, and some lucky woman was in for the ride of her life.