Ash—she hadn’t picked up any hints otherwise—but someone had put a bullet in Xav. She looked at Storm, a bit of fear inside her.
“Xav fell off his horse,” she said, not certain how much to share, and Storm glanced at Xav, concern etched on his chiseled face. No hint that he was the shooter coming to find his prey.
“Fell off?” He glanced at the blood crusted on Xav’s jeans and pooled beneath him. “That’s not like him.” He knelt close to Ash, looking down at Xav. “If I help you to my horse, can you at least hang over the saddle?”
Xav gave a slight nod.
“I’ll help you,” Ash said, her heart racing. “We’ll just put him on his horse. That way you won’t have to follow us back—”
He looked at her. “His horse seems to be about done in. That’s what I really came to check on.”
She didn’t mention that he was trespassing on Callahan land. This wasn’t the time. Friend or foe, she needed Storm’s assistance.
The mention of his horse being in trouble seemed to give Xav a vital boost of energy. He tried to raise himself to his elbows, and Storm helped him up from there. Though Xav was taller than Storm by a few inches and probably outweighed him by an athletic twenty pounds, Storm managed to get him to his horse. He helped Xav get his foot into the stirrup, then slump across the saddle.
“That’s all we needed, buddy. We can take it from here.” Storm turned to Ash. “Maybe we should get him to a hospital.”
“I’m taking him to the ranch.” Ash stood ready to defend this plan. “My family will decide what’s best for him then.”
“There’s no telling how much blood he’s lost. Maybe we take him to my ranch. I’ve got a—”
“Mr. Cash,” Ash said, “Xav is going to our ranch. Thank you for the use of your horse, but if you have a problem with being on Callahan land, I’ll take him myself and return your horse to you later.”
“It’s fine,” Storm said. “Whatever you want.”
He mounted his horse with Xav across the back and began walking. Ash watched Storm suspiciously, then mounted her own horse. To her relief, Xav’s horse followed, even though it was a shadow of its normally vigorous self. Watching the terrain for any signs of danger, Ash stayed close to Xav, occasionally glancing at Storm.
How had he managed to coincidentally show up after Xav was wounded? She was so suspicious of him and so worried about Xav that her body felt flooded with adrenaline. Her brothers were going to kill her for being in the canyons. And they weren’t going to be happy about her dragging Storm Cash to the house.
Her brothers didn’t understand how she felt about Xav.
Storm waited for her to catch up to him. “I wasn’t entirely honest about my reason for being back there.”
A tickle of unease hit Ash. Worried, she glanced toward Xav. He wasn’t moving much. Was almost too still.
“Oh?” She didn’t look at Storm.
“I’m afraid I followed you.”
Her gaze jumped to him then. “Why?”
Storm shrugged. “Wanted to talk to you.”
Maybe there was a logical reason behind the man’s frequent presence at the ranch—beyond the overly friendly neighbor visits. “Something on your mind, Storm?”
“This may not be the best time to mention it, but you’re pretty hard to get hold of, Miss Callahan.” He glanced her way. “I was hoping you might accompany me to the Diablo Ball in December.”
She blinked. Awkward. “I heard you’d proposed to Taylor Waters.”
He nodded. “I did. She turned down my suit. So then I thought maybe my neighbor gal might want to accompany me. Sounds like it’s going to be a real nice evening.”
Xav looked as if he was trying to rise to a sitting position, though he wasn’t going to make it. He muttered something, a string of incoherent words, and Ash looked at him with concern. “The less you move, the faster we can get you home, Xav. Your weight is too much on the horse,” she told him. “Try to stay still.”
After a few more twitches, he settled.
She looked back at the other man. “I don’t know what to say, Storm. I wasn’t planning to attend the charity ball.” Of course she was—but she’d been planning to go solo, if she could talk Galen into letting her off post that night.
Xav made more noise, sounding like a pheasant startled from a forest. Of course, he was feverish, so that probably had a lot to do with his sudden flailing. No telling how long he’d been lying out there, bleeding.
He’d do anything to avoid her.
“Let me think about it, although I warn you my brothers will not be happy. But I did want to go, so thank you for the offer,” she told Storm, and Xav fell silent at last.
* * *
“I THOUGHT I’ D COME BY to talk to you,” Taylor said to Falcon as she hopped out of her truck. “Unless you were about to leave?”
Fiona and Falcon did look as if they were about to take off somewhere. Taylor knew she should have called first. The thing about Rancho Diablo was that people felt comfortable dropping by whenever and often, and she’d decided to ambush her own nerves and just make herself go face Falcon. Spur of the moment. No phone call to make things more uncomfortable than they already were.
Now Taylor wondered if she’d been a bit too impulsive.
“We were about to leave,” Falcon said, and his aunt nodded enthusiastically. “But you’re welcome to ride with us.”
Fiona turned and stared up at Falcon as if he’d lost his mind.
“You said you’d help me out,” he told her.
“I didn’t say we’d give away the family secrets,” Fiona shot back.
“Maybe another time,” Taylor said, and Falcon and Fiona both said, “No!”
“By all means, come with us,” Fiona said. “We’re just going to take a small joyride on the ranch.”
“More ghost-busting?” Taylor asked brightly. “Falcon’s big on ghosts.” She got into the backseat of the military jeep.
Fiona sent her nephew a droll look. “Our whole family enjoys a good paranormal goose-pimpler.”
The Callahans were legendary for their love of ghost stories and spiritual juju, according to her aunt Nadine. They even let a local woman give ghost-hunting tours on the ranch in the fall. Taylor smiled as they drove, listening to Fiona and Falcon banter. Fiona seemed very fond of her nephew, and just couldn’t help ribbing him. Taylor’s gaze focused on some horses making their slow way in the distance. Ash’s platinum hair caught her eye, but she didn’t recognize the man riding beside her. A third horse followed disconsolately behind the riders. “Who’s that?” she asked, touching Falcon’s shoulder. Through the black T-shirt she could feel muscles, strength—solidness so comforting.
“It’s Ash,” Fiona said. “And Storm.”
“Never a good combination. Let’s go throw a burr into whatever he’s up to. Hope you don’t mind, Taylor.”
“Fine by me.”
They pulled up alongside Ash and Storm, who came to a halt. Falcon cursed and jumped from the jeep. Fiona wasn’t far behind her nephew, and Taylor followed, too, as they hurried to help Xav.
“What happened?” Falcon demanded.
“I found him pretty much unconscious,” Ash said. “He’d dragged himself under a ledge. His horse was standing in the open, or I’d never have spotted him. Xav’s been shot.”