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