One for Three [Elite Dragons 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (11 page)

“Yeah?”

He recognized the voice on the other end as their stud foreman’s. “Can I get you out here in the barn? I’ve got some stallions with some GI trouble. I’ve called the vet. It might be serious.”

“Shit.” Coulter spared a glance for the work spread out on his desk, but the stud farm required his attention, too. “Okay, I’m on my way.”

Coulter headed out quickly. The last thing they needed was to have sick animals on their hands.

Coulter walked into the interior of the stables and rushed to his foreman, Jason Pike, down the opposite end. As he drew near, a woman stood up from where she had been crouching at the end of a stall. He recognized Katlynn without surprise. She’d been hanging around the stables lately.

“What have we got?” he asked.

“It looks like they were given contaminated food. Colic would be my guess,” Jason informed him.

Jason had been working for Coulter for over five years and the man had been invaluable to him with his knowledge of horses. He and his brothers had spent a lot of time picking Pike’s brains so they knew the ins and outs of running the stud. The only thing to be said against the man was that he could be cold. Coulter had the sense that Pike didn’t like him or Trace or Corbin these days. He could never pinpoint anything the man said, but there was something in his eyes.

On the other hand, Pike had never done the smallest thing to earn Coulter’s distrust. Up until a couple of weeks ago, Coulter would have just supposed Pike to be an unfeeling person. Then Katlynn had shown up.

This wasn’t the first time Coulter had seen the two of them together. He wondered if a relationship was blooming between the pair. Why they were trying to hide the fact they had feelings for each other was beyond him. Though they were often spotted together, neither would admit to any interest in the other. That was cold comfort for the Healy brothers, who had had their eye on Katlynn since her arrival. Coulter didn’t like jealousy between members of his team and the farm hands, but there was nothing he could do about the situation. If Katlynn wasn’t interested in the Healys, he couldn’t make her change her mind.

“Have they tried to stand?” Coulter asked, turning his attention to the sick horses.

“Yeah, a couple of times,” Jason replied. He was looking down the stalls again. “Here come your brothers.”

Corbin and Trace were walking down the row, snow still clinging to their boots. Frowning, Coulter turned back to Jason. “You called all three of us?”

Jason shrugged. “Colic is serious, boss. You’re the ones who want to run this place.”

His shrug was casual, but there was something in his tone that Coulter disliked. But he was right about the horses, so Coulter put his puzzlement aside.

“Okay, let’s see if we can get them both up. Get someone to cheek their food,” Coulter demanded as he strode toward the small office in the barn to see where the vet was.

As he walked out of the office again, he found Katlynn and Jason arguing. The spitfire shoved Pike in the chest and stormed off. His foreman turned toward him and noticed him watching. The look in Pike’s eyes made chills run up and down his spine, but he put it down to a lovers’ quarrel and went back to tend to his sick horses as Jason slammed out of the building.

* * * *

“Do you know what’s happening, Martha?” Brooke asked. “I heard Coulter slam out the door like the fires of hell were at his heels.”

“No, I don’t. Maybe he has a problem with the horses.”

“Hmm. I think I’ll go and see. Do you need help at the moment?”

“No, we’re fine, love. Go on with you,” Martha urged with a smile.

Brooke hurried to the mudroom, took a thick coat from the rack, pulled it on, and zipped it up. She grabbed a scarf and wrapped it around her neck, slid her feet into Martha’s wool-lined boots, and went out. She was halfway across the yard when she heard the other women calling to her. She turned around and waited for Janie and Alicia to catch up.

“What’s going on?” Janie asked.

“I think they have sick horses, but I don’t know for sure. Did the others go the stable as well?” Brooke asked, looking around. She had a bad feeling. The hair on her nape was standing on end. She couldn’t see anyone around, and that was unusual for this time of day. There was always someone coming or going from one building to another. She shivered as apprehension ran up and down her spine. A cold sweat broke out over her skin.

“I don’t like this,” Brooke stated. “Something isn’t right.”

The two women moved in closer to where Brooke stood in the middle of the yard. She felt so exposed and decided they all should go back inside.

“Come on. Let’s go back inside,” Brooke suggested and began to walk back to the house. The others turned to follow. They were almost to the end of the house when Brooke saw movement from the corner of her eye. Metal flashed in the winter sunshine, and Brooke shouted to the other women.

“Run,” she screamed and turned toward the porch steps. The other women fled, racing across the snow-covered ground. Brooke had taken no more than two steps, but skidded on a patch of unseen ice. She went down before she could regain her balance. She pushed to her hands and knees, but didn’t quite make it back up. A hand in her hair tugged and pulled her to her feet.

“Don’t make a sound or I’ll kill you now. Move!” the man said and tugged her hair. He let go of her hair and grabbed her hand in a steely grip. She looked up at him and could see the evil in his eyes. He pulled her into a run, and they were amongst the trees moments later. She wanted to scratch his eyes out and hit him, but she had seen the gun in his other hand and his icy determination hinted that he would not hesitate to shoot her for any offense

Brooke was having trouble keeping up with him. The snow was thigh-deep in places. She shivered as the cold, wet snow penetrated her denim jeans but was thankful she had on Martha’s warm boots. At least her feet would stay warm and dry.

“You won’t get away with this,” Brooke gasped breathlessly. “They’ll track you down and kill you.”

“We’ll be long gone by then, Brooke. They’re too busy with their sick horses.”

“The others saw you. The probably already know you’re here.”

“Shut the fuck up, you bitch,” he spat out.

“Why? Are you scared? You should be, you know. You’re a dead man,” Brooke goaded.

Brooke grunted when he slammed his fist into the side of her head. Pain exploded through her skull, and she stumbled. The grip he had on her was too firm, and when he pulled hard to prevent her fall, it felt like he had wrenched her shoulder from its socket. She cried out with pain, but regained her balance a moment later. Her face suddenly felt sticky, and she realized his blow had torn open her skin. Her head ached abominably, and her eyesight was getting blurry.

She had no idea how long they had been moving. She wondered how far this forest went on and where the men were. Surely the other women had notified them of her predicament. Brooke bit her lip. What if they hadn’t? What if the others were too scared to do anything? No. Martha would have been on the phone in a snap if the other women told her what was going on. She knew her men were probably tracking them right now. They would have had to gear up so they could come after her. They were probably only a few minutes behind. It was up to Brooke to try to slow them down so her men and the others could catch up.

Brooke listened for signs of movement behind them, but the silence was nearly deafening. The snow on the ground muffled sound, and even though that was an advantage for Coulter, Trace, Corbin, and the others, she felt as if she were in this alone. The man who had a hard grip around her wrist wasn’t as tall or muscular as her men, so maybe she could get out of the situation by herself.

She deliberately stumbled and used her body weight to try to pull him down with her. He hesitated as she fell to her knees in the snow, but he didn’t let go. She turned her head slightly and watched him lean down from beneath her eyelashes. As he came closer, Brooke slammed her elbow into his face. He let her go and howled, holding on to his nose as blood oozed from his nostrils.

“You fucking bitch,” he snarled and raised his arm.

Brooke stared down the barrel of a silver gun and waited for the explosion and pain. The explosion came, but the pain didn’t. She watched as if in slow motion as the strange man clutched at his chest and toppled over. Blood began to bloom through his jacket and seep slowly onto the white, pristine snow. She looked up and saw that she was surrounded. The members of the Elite Dragons Special Forces came out of the trees.

She was numb and couldn’t seem to move. Her body wasn’t cooperating with her brain. She slumped down onto her ass and shivered. Her eyes connected with Coulter, Trace, and Corbin as they rushed forward, and she began to shake even harder. Tears were coursing down her cheeks, but she couldn’t stop them. Her tears went from warm to cold on her skin before they were halfway down her cheeks. Coulter got to her first, and she sobbed and clung to him.

“Shh, baby. It’s all right. You’re safe now,” Coulter rasped.

The next moment she was surrounded by the Thornell brothers’ big bodies and their heat. Her arms were weak and her teeth were chattering from the force of her violent shivering. Coulter lifted her up into his arms and held her firmly against his chest. He began walking, and she knew she was safe once more.

“I’m so proud of you, darlin’,” Trace stated. “You didn’t let him take you without a fight.”

Brooke tried to stop the near convulsions brought on by the cold, but the effort only caused her to shake more.

“Brooke, you’re okay, honey. We’ll have you back inside and warm again in no time,” Corbin said.

Brooke couldn’t answer. She rested her head onto Coulter’s shoulder and gave into the adrenaline racing through her veins. It emerged as great wrenching cries, which she didn’t even try to contain. Coulter hugged her even tighter, and moments later he walked through the back door into the mudroom. He didn’t stop until he had carried her into their bedroom. He sat with her on the side of the bed, and the three men began to remove her clothes.

“Wh−what are y−you do−doing?” she asked.

“We need to get these wet jeans off you, baby, and get you warmed up,” Coulter replied.

Brooke let them strip her down, and then Coulter passed her over to Trace. His warm skin touched hers, and she noticed he was as naked as she was. He carried her into the bathroom and stepped into the warm water of the shower. One of the men must have started the water without her being aware of it. She moaned as warmth penetrated her cold body and clung to Trace while he held her in his arms. Her shaking slowed and finally ceased. She sighed as the last of her tension and tears diminished and finally stopped.

“Are you okay, darlin’?” asked Trace.

“Yeah.”

“Do you think you can stand on your own?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m okay,” Brooke replied quietly.

Trace slowly lowered her feet, but kept his hands on her waist to make sure she wasn’t about to fall. Together the men cared for her, Trace washing her, Corbin gently drying her off, and Coulter helping to dress her then carrying her to the kitchen.

“Brooke. Oh God. Are you hurt?” Janie asked as she rushed over to her. Coulter sat at their usual table with her on his lap.

“No, not really. I’m fine, Janie.”

“You saved us, Brooke. If it hadn’t been for you, God knows what would have happened,” Janie stated, with fear in her voice.

“He couldn’t have taken all of us, Janie. There was only one of him and there were four of us.”

“Hey, Brooke, let me take a look at that cut,” Wolf said as he sat beside her and Coulter and opened his medical kit. Quickly and gently, he disinfected and bandaged her injury. “There you go. Have you got a headache, Brooke?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“How bad?” Wolf asked.

“Bad enough.”

“Is your vision blurry?” he asked her with a frown.

“Minimally so,” she replied.

“You’re a tough little cookie, aren’t you? Here, take these painkillers, and if the headache doesn’t go, send for me.”

“Thanks, Wolf,” Brooke said.

“Oh my stars. You poor love. Here, take your pills,” Martha insisted gently as she handed Brooke a glass of water.

Brooke did as she was told and handed the glass back. “Thanks, Martha.”

“Don’t thank me, love. It if hadn’t been for you all these women could have been taken or killed.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Brooke muttered as she leaned back into Coulter, resting her head on his shoulder.

“What doesn’t, baby?” Coulter asked.

“Why there was only one man if he was after all of us,” Brooke said. “And why was he leaving on foot? Where was he going?”

“Yeah, you’re right, darlin’. It doesn’t add up. That’s why Bryden and his brothers are doing a search on the motherfucker,” Trace stated.

“Trace Thornell, language,” Martha called out.

“Sorry, Mom.”

“So you should be. Talking like that in front of so many women. I raised you better than that.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Brooke couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing when she noticed Trace was blushing. He gave her a scowl and then smiled and winked at her. The fact that such a big, arrogant, dominant man could blush when his mother castigated him for swearing was amusing.