Forgotten Son. Linda Warren

      She licked her cracked lips. “Was it a woman?”

      “Yes. My fiancée.”

      “Oh.”

      “His men grabbed her from the street because the bastard chose her to be his next wife.” Eli glanced at Caroline. “She wasn’t strong like you. She lasted two days in the room, then agreed to marry him. After a month, she managed to escape.”

      He took a long breath, hardly able to believe he was telling her this. But he couldn’t seem to stop. “Then I got the call. She was missing, and I found her not far from our ranch, in a ditch, strangled to death.”

      “Oh. I’m so sorry.” Caroline touched his arm. “Why isn’t Buford in jail?”

      “The police couldn’t prove anything. It was her word against theirs, and there was no evidence Ginny was ever in the compound. They never found a secret room like Ginny said there was.”

      “Ginny was her name?”

      He swallowed, struggling with his emotions. “Yes.”

      “Since Buford is free, I’m assuming they couldn’t prove he killed her, either.”

      “No. There wasn’t one shred of evidence, but the FBI were able to close down his camp. He just moved on to these hills, terrorizing other women.”

      “I don’t understand how that could happen,” Caroline said. “Why hasn’t the law done something?”

      “They will this time. Buford screwed up by kidnapping a congressman’s daughter.”

      “I’ve hated that title most of my life. Today it feels good.” Her gaze swung to the road. “My parents are probably very worried.”

      “Yes. Your father has posted a big reward for any information leading to your whereabouts.”

      “How is Colin, my fiancé, taking this?”

      “I don’t know. I haven’t heard anything about him.”

      She bit her lip. “We were having problems. He wanted to get married right away and I didn’t. Now I can’t remember exactly why I was against it. At thirty, a woman should be ready to get married.” She paused. “Are you married?”

      “No.”

      “I’ll be glad to see Colin.” She glanced at Eli. “Thanks to you, I will.”

      “I’m just doing my job, ma’am.”

      Blood trickled down the side of his face into his beard. She reached out with her bandaged hand to touch it.

      “You’ve scraped your face.”

      He wished she wouldn’t keep doing that—touching him. He had to keep this on a professional level, and when she touched his skin, he found that difficult. All he had to do, though, was close his eyes and see Ginny’s face, and everything was fine.

      “It’s nothing,” he murmured, trying not to pull away.

      She let it drop and he was glad. His arm was on fire, but he couldn’t let her see he was in pain.

      “It’s early, but the FBI is patrolling this road, so someone should be by soon.”

      She studied her bandaged hands. “I probably won’t see you again after they arrive.”

      “Probably not.”

      “I want to thank you again for getting me out of that place.”

      He shifted uncomfortably. “As I said, it’s my job.”

      “But you did it for Ginny, didn’t you?”

      “Yeah,” he admitted. “That bastard deserves to be put away for what he did to her and probably many other girls.”

      Caroline put both arms around his neck and hugged him. “Thank you, Eli.”

      Dammit. Did she have to keep doing that? He closed his eyes, but he couldn’t see Ginny. That scared him. It was the first time that had happened. He was just exhausted physically and mentally, he told himself. He had to hold on to Ginny, but all he could see and feel was Caroline Whitten.

      A hum in the distance was a welcome relief. He pulled away. “A car is coming. Stay put and I’ll check it out. Don’t stand on your feet.”

      He stood and walked to the edge of the road, recognizing the car immediately. It was Tuck. What the hell was he doing here? He had his own job to do. Then again, Eli was glad to see him.

      Tuck pulled over and jumped out.

      “Call the FBI and an ambulance,” Eli shouted.

      Tuck dashed into his car and was back in a minute. He stopped short when he took in Eli’s appearance, especially his bloody arm. “What happened to you?”

      “It’s a long story and I don’t have time to get into it.”

      “You found Ms. Whitten?”

      “Yes. She’s over here.” They walked toward the bushes.

      “What are you doing here?”

      “Surly as ever—still the same old Eli. For a moment there I wasn’t sure. But to answer your question, I offered my help. The lieutenant and captain agreed that the FBI could use all the help they could get.”

      “What happened to one riot, one ranger?”

      “Well, it took one ranger to get her out of there, and Congressman Whitten will want answers as to why the FBI didn’t find her days ago.”

      That would certainly come up in the investigation that was to follow, but right now, Eli’s main concern was still Caroline.

      They walked up to her. “Caroline, this is Jeremiah Tucker, and Tuck, this is Caroline Whitten.”

      “Howdy, ma’am.” Tuck tipped his hat, staring at her bandaged hands.

      A string of cars came roaring down the road, and Eli reached down and lifted Caroline into his arms.

      “Put me down, Eli,” she ordered. “You can’t carry me with your arm like that.”

      He didn’t oblige, but just kept walking.

      “Eli,” Tuck called after them.

      Eli didn’t pay any attention to him, either. He seemed to stroll effortlessly toward the road, but she knew he had to be in a lot of pain.

      Tom and Bill ran up to them.

      “We need an ambulance,” Eli said.

      “It’s on the way,” Bill replied, his eyes on Caroline. “Are you okay, Ms. Whitten?”

      “I am now.”

      “Where did he have her hidden?” Tom asked.

      “In the cellar.”

      “We checked there.”

      “One of the walls moves in slightly, just enough for a person to squeeze by, and it’s very hard to detect.”

      An ambulance pulled up, followed by a black car. Paramedics jumped out with a gurney and rolled it up to Caroline. Eli gently laid his burden on it. Before the paramedics could take her away, she grabbed Eli’s left arm.

      “No,” she cried. “Eli has to come, too. He’s hurt and he needs attention.”

      “Caroline, just go and get taken care of. I have things to do.”

      “No,” she said again, and held on tight even though her hand was hurting like hell.

      Bill was looking at Eli’s blood-soaked sleeve. “That arm does look bad. We’re going in to make the arrest, and you’re not any help to us in that condition. Go to the hospital and take care of your arm. We’ll