Rescued by the Ranger Read Free

recognized the sound as well.
    He skidded to a stop and threw his hands in the air. “Now, Rachel, baby. You don’t wanna do that.”
    “I sure as hell do, you sorry excuse for a single-celled amoeba. I told you if you ever laid a hand on me, I’d kill you, and I meant it.” Rachel’s voice was silky smooth and hard-edged.
    She stood with elbows braced against the far side of the bar, drawing down on the kid with the rifle she gripped like a modern-day Annie Oakley, and Garrett didn’t doubt her threat for a minute. Clearly, however, the dimwitted kid didn’t have the sense to take her seriously. Shit. It chapped his ass to have to take this worthless scum’s side. “Uh . . . Rachel is it? Maybe we should let the police handle this.”
    A disbelieving laugh burst from her. “The police are worse than Riley here.”
    With her attention solely on the young Riley, Garrett sidled up to the bar, shoved the barrel of the rifle up, and pulled it from her hands. “Trust me. He’s right about this. You don’t want to do that.”
    Riley picked that moment to laugh.
    “Damn it. Shut up, kid, if you know what’s good for you.” Garrett’s patience was at its breaking point.
    Rachel inhaled sharply, and Garrett’s attention jerked back to her. She stared at the door.
    “Drop the rifle, Mister.” The new voice was deep and raspy, and it was followed by the sound of footsteps moving closer.
    Garrett slowly turned to see the two men from the old Ford pickup standing one on each side of the swinging panels. Both carried sawed-off shotguns. They reminded him of Darryl and Darryl, two no-doubt inbred brothers from an old sitcom he’d watched once. These two weren’t quite as funny, though.
    Riley hooted, strode toward Garrett, and confiscated the Winchester. “What the hell are you boys doin’ back here? I told you to go pick up the supplies.”
    “We saw this yahoo park and go inside. Thought there could be some trouble.” Darryl #1 smirked as though that’s what he’d been hoping for.
    Riley gave him a playful shove. “Oh, and you didn’t think I could handle it by myself?”
    “Naw, Riley. Just didn’t want you havin’ all the fun.”
    Darryl #2 chewed on a toothpick as he studied Rachel, then swept his gaze to Garrett. “Thought we was just supposed to git the girl. What we gonna do with him now?” The older of the two jabbed his shotgun toward Garrett.
    “What d’ya think?” Riley smirked.
    What the hell was going on here? This wasn’t some awkward kid trying to coerce a kiss out of a reluctant girlfriend. Not even close. Both parties seemed willing to kill over whatever the stakes were in this little game, and Garrett was sadly out of the loop. He met Rachel’s gaze and cocked an eyebrow in question.
    “I’d say I told you so, but the satisfaction would be short-lived. Bet you wished you’d stayed on the interstate now.” She lowered her eyelids, and it appeared she was studying something below the level of the bar, then she slowly opened them again until she was looking into his once more. There was a message in her green depths—if he could only figure out what it was.
    His imagination might be working overtime, but it sure did look as though the young lady had just given him a signal. Was there something under that bar that she was hoping to get her hands on? Something that could help them out of a tight spot? If that was the case, by God, this time he’d let her use it. He wished to hell he hadn’t left his handgun in the glove box of the Jeep.
    “Git him out of here. Take his rig. I’ll bring the girl, and we’ll meet up at the mine.” Riley started toward Rachel, but she stayed where she was, spouting a stream of colorful adjectives sure to piss him off even further. Damned if she wasn’t a handful once she got good and mad.
    Darryl and Darryl advanced on Garrett, and he lifted his hands, palms toward them, raising his voice to be heard over the commotion behind him. “Easy,