resignation in her tone that made him inclined to believe she was telling the truth. Her facial expression wasn’t so defeated and he knew instantly that she would take any out that presented itself.
“Are you supposed to be somewhere, Mrs. Morgan?” He glanced at the white dress and then his eyes immediately flew to the ring finger on her left hand to see if the wedding had already taken place. There was nothing.
She shook her head almost violently.
“I’m not. I mean, I know what this must look like but—” Again her words were slurred.
She followed his gaze to the dress and her face paled.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, focusing on the long red streaks of blood.
“I don’t think so,” she said in a panicked tone as she ran her hands along the beading of her dress at her midsection.
His thoughts instantly skipped to the possibility that she’d had a few shots of “liquid courage” before she ended up chickening out and splitting on her wedding day. The thought of the man she’d left behind, another human being, standing at an altar somewhere and waiting—like an idiot!—for a woman who would never show stuck in Will’s craw. He tensed at the possibility. No man deserved to have his hopes trampled like that.
Will bit back what he really wanted to say.
“Today your wedding day?” he asked in an even tone as memories he’d tucked away down deep clawed to the surface.
“No.” She looked bewildered. “But it’s not safe for me. I have to keep going.”
She aimed herself at another tree and more or less threw her body toward it, grasping at the trunk.
“Whoa. Steady there,” Will said, stepping toward her to catch her elbow and hold her upright.
She mumbled an apology and something that sounded like she was saying she’d been drugged.
Did he hear her right?
This close, he could see the unique violet color in her irises, and when he looked deeper there was something else that would haunt him for the rest of his days—a split second of unadulterated fear.
Did she think he was going to hurt her?
“I’ll help you get this sorted out,” he said to reassure her, thinking this day was turning into a doozy.
“Why did he…? What did he…?”
Did she know where she was?
Even sounding confused, there was a musical quality to her voice.
It dawned on him what had been bugging him.
He knew that name.
Kelly Morgan. Will remembered that name from somewhere. Where?
As inappropriate as the thought seemed under the circumstances, he figured that he’d know if he’d met a woman this beautiful before.
After a few seconds, he realized how he knew her. The two of them had gone to grade school together. They’d been nothing more than kids. Damn, the memory of her reached back into his childhood. And to be fair, the Kelly Morgan he’d known was a tall, scrawny girl. Not a woman who’d filled out in sexy, soft-looking curves.
Being from a small town, he’d prided himself on having history with darn near all local families, but hers had kept to themselves. Kelly had had a quiet but strong quality even then.
And then the summer after fifth grade the family was gone. Years later, he’d heard that they’d relocated to Fort Worth for her dad’s work. Even now Will remembered looking for her that first day of middle school. There was something about the young Kelly that had brought out his protective instincts back then. Was the same thing happening now, too?
Kelly Morgan could take care of herself. Still, he recalled the almost too-thin girl who liked to sit by the window in the back of the room. She’d had a serious quality—too serious for her age. To this day it made him wonder where it came from and why.
“Tell me what’s going on and I’ll help,” he said, the memory softening his tone.
He needed to get her back to Domino before she passed out. In her state he couldn’t be sure the blood on her gown wasn’t hers. She might be hurt and not realize it.
His horse was a fifteen-minute walk from this part of Rushing Creek. He knew the land like the back of his hand, having grown up here.
Kelly took another step back and had to tighten her grip on the tree trunk to keep her balance.
“Tell me what’s going on. What happened to you?” he asked, but her eyes darted around frantically.
“He did this… I don’t know what he gave me,” she said hesitantly. He was close enough to see her pulse pounding rapidly at the base of her throat—a throat he had no business noticing…the soft angles or how silky the skin seemed.
Was this a simple case of woman who’d had too much to drink and ditched her fiancé on her wedding day? That wouldn’t explain the blood. She looked frightened and he wanted to believe it could be that simple. His survival skills, which had been honed in combat, made him think otherwise.
Why would she come into the woods? And what was she talking about? “What did he give you?”
He leaned in, close enough to pick up the scent of alcohol on her breath if it was there. There was no smell. Being this close to her stirred something inappropriate, though, and it was completely out of line given the situation.
Great job, Will. Way to keep yourself in check.
“Lean your weight on me,” he urged, trying to forget the familiar pain that came from seeing someone running in the opposite direction in a wedding dress.
Had Lacey had this same frantic, pained look on her face on their wedding day? Two years had passed, which should have been enough time to tuck away the memories and forget the whole thing had ever happened. Most of the time that was a no-brainer. Done. Then there were moments like these.
Will Kent had lived a charmed life. Until Lacey had crushed his heart with the heel of her boot. He bit back a bitter laugh. Wasn’t he being dramatic? It was most likely the fact that the anniversary of what was supposed to be their wedding was coming up in a couple of days.
A noise to Will’s left nearly caused Kelly to bolt like a motherless doe.
“Shhh,” he whispered. Her reaction heightened his awareness of their surroundings. Her emotions were on high alert and would be overkill for a woman who was solely ducking out on vows. The blood on her dress said there was more to the story.
“Pleas-s-s-e don’t let him hur-l me,” she said, slurring the words. Did she mean hurt? He assumed so.
He scanned the area before catching her eye. He brought his right index finger to his lips, indicating silence.
She unfocused her gaze for a few seconds, like she was looking into herself for answers. Then she blinked before locking onto something in the distance behind him.
Will jerked his head around in time to hear the crack of a gun going off, followed by the unmistakable sound of a bullet pinging off the tree next to him. His eyes immediately followed the sound and saw that the tree trunk had a chunk missing. That was about two feet from his head. His gaze flew in the direction of the gun.
A short man with a slight build who wore jeans and a dark hoodie was bolting toward them, shotgun barrel seeking a better look at its target.
There was no time for debate so he picked up Kelly and darted in between the trees running a zigzag pattern as fast as he could. Work on the ranch