Legally Binding Read online

  “There he is.” Lindsey’s voice reverberated in his headset. She pointed to a rough area near the river.

  He followed her outstretched finger. Sure enough, a small blue speck was picking his way through rock and mesquite. Bart scanned the area for a place to set down the helicopter. The top of the swell, before the land sloped to the river, was his best bet. From there, they would have to backtrack, fighting through scrub to reach his dad. It would take time, but he had no choice. They couldn’t land on mesquite. He moved the cyclic in the direction of the swell.

  A light flickered inside the craft.

  Heart jolting into his throat, he looked down. The fuel-pressure light glowed orange.

  Adrenaline flooded his bloodstream. He cut back on the cyclic and reduced pitch. Too late. Another sound sent his pulse pounding like a stampede of cattle—the sound of the engine sputtering and stalling.

  Chapter Ten

  Bart’s pulse beat in his ears, louder than the slowing rotor of the helicopter. He kept the craft in perfect working order at all times. He knew he had fuel. He hadn’t just taken Gary’s word for it, he’d checked. It didn’t make sense that the fuel pressure was low. It didn’t make sense that the engine had stalled out.

  Damn him for hurrying his safety checks before taking the craft up. He must have missed something. He must have been so intent on not letting Lindsey go up with him, so scared for his dad, that he’d cut corners. Corners that might mean their lives.

  Bart shook his head. He couldn’t think of that now. There would be plenty of time to blame himself later. As long as he got them safely to the ground, he could wallow in self-blame the rest of his life, if he chose. Now he needed to focus. He needed to remember everything he’d learned in helicopter flight training or blame wouldn’t matter. They would be dead.

  Although he’d read about autorotation landings and practiced them on a simulator, he’d never had to perform one for real. And with the stakes so high, he didn’t have room for error.

  He could feel Lindsey’s eyes on him, as wide as the horizon. He wouldn’t let her down. He couldn’t. He had to think. He had to focus. He had to make sure they survived.

  The first order of business was to use the airflow to keep the blades turning. If the blade slowed much more, they’d plummet to the earth like a stone. He reduced the pitch further. The craft inclined forward, the changing airflow powering the blades, speeding the rotation.

  So far, so good. Now to bring the craft down.

  He established a glide at fifty-five knots. He could hear the rotor spinning slightly faster than it had in powered flight, and as steady as his best ranch horse. The craft began its descent, approaching the ground at an angle of twenty degrees.

  The ground loomed closer. The river wound to the side of them, its banks thick with mesquite. A little farther and he could have set down on the grassy plateau. A nice, clear landing. No such luck. It was mesquite tangles or nothing.

  He had to reduce airspeed and rate of descent just before touchdown if he wanted to cushion the landing. He moved the cyclic to the rear. The helicopter tipped back slightly, increasing the wind hitting the bottom side of the blades. He applied collective pitch with the pedals. The ground came up fast. He felt Lindsey tense beside him just before the skids hit mesquite.

  The copter jolted and bucked. Bart plunged forward. The harness kept him pinned to the seat with the force of a punch to the sternum. He battled for breath.

  The helicopter settled back on its haunches.

  And tipped to the side.

  The ground came up to meet Bart. The binoculars and something else flew through the air and smacked him in the jaw. Mesquite punched through the side window, stabbing inches from his face. Finally the craft swayed and settled.

  Hanging in his belt, Bart struggled to clear his mind. He looked up at Lindsey, suspended above him. Eyes wide, she gripped the harness fastening her to the seat with frantic fingers, knuckles white. She gasped, chest heaving.

  “You okay?”

  “I think so,” she coughed out.

  Bart nearly groaned with relief. At least she hadn’t been hurt. Shaken up, yes, but she’d recover. Now he just had to figure out a way to get them out of this mess. He grasped the radio. At least they could call for help. Help for them and help for his dad. He flipped on the switch.

  The radio was dead.

  “Damn.”

  “Did it break in the landing?”

  “I doubt it.” Their landing had been rough, but not that rough.

  “Then what’s wrong with it?”

  He groped under the radio, feeling the wires. One hung loose. He pulled it out and looked at the abrupt end.

  Lindsey’s eyes flared. “It was cut.”

  “It sure as hell was. And I’ll be willing to bet the engine was sabotaged, too.”

  “Sabotaged,” Lindsey whispered under her breath, as if she couldn’t quite believe it.

  Bart shook his head. He couldn’t believe it, either. Despite the vandalism to Lindsey’s car and the break-in at her apartment, no one had tried anything this serious. No one had tried to kill them.

  Until now.

  “Whoever stranded my daddy out on the range probably knew I’d take the helicopter to look for him.” Anger constricted his throat like a noose.

  “And he sabotaged the engine to make sure you wouldn’t return,” Lindsey finished. “We have to reach the sheriff’s department.”

  “The ELT should do that for us.”

  “The ELT?”

  “Emergency Location Transmitter. It notifies the authorities when a craft goes down.” He groped the spot where the little box was located. His hand grasped air. Another surge of adrenaline dumped into his bloodstream. “The only problem is that it’s not here.”

  “He took it out?”

  He nodded. “So when we went down, no one would know where we were.” His head pounded. He squinted up at the sky. The clouds were growing thicker by the second. The air was charged with electricity. “We have to find Daddy.”

  “I have my cell phone. We’ll use it to call for help.” She groped around her seat. “If I can find it, that is.”

  “I think it flew past my face when we tipped.” Bart peered into the tangle of mesquite pushing its way up through shards of glass. Sure enough, something small and silver glinted through the gnarled branches. “I see it.”

  “Can you reach it?”

  He tried to fit his hand through broken glass and sharp branches. The phone rested a good four feet below. He couldn’t move his hand more than four inches through the shattered window. It was no use. “This damn mesquite is too thick. We’re on our own.”

  Lindsey pushed out a breath of air. But instead of giving in to the fear furrowing her brow and turning her skin to chalk, she raised her chin and met his eyes. “Okay. Let’s get out of here and find your father.”

  “Can you open the door?”

  “I think so.” She yanked up on the release and pushed. The door opened an inch before gravity slammed it shut again. Gritting her teeth, Lindsey didn’t waste a breath before trying again. She pushed harder, this time catching the door with a foot before it closed. She slipped her fingers through the open crack and grabbed the doorframe. “Release my belt.”

  “Are you sure you can—”

  “Release my belt,” she repeated.

  He did as she asked, using one hand to free her and the other to help support her weight.

  She shoved upward. The door flung wide and rested fully open on its hinges.

  Bart grasped her waist with both hands, his fingers nearly circling her slender body. “I’ll give you a boost. On three.”

  “Ready.”

  “One…two…three.” He boosted her upward, through the door.

  She grasped the skid and pulled herself onto the helicopter’s side.

  The craft tipped slightly on the scrub and then stilled. Bart released his own harness and scrambled so he was sitting upright in the t
ight space. He looked up where Lindsey was peering down at him, reaching her hand down to help. “Jump free of the chopper.”

  “Can you get out by yourself?”

  “Yes. Just get free. This thing might tip when I climb out. The last thing we need is for you to get pinned underneath.”

  She nodded. Lowering herself over the skid, she disappeared from his sight.

  The copter swayed on the unstable bed of mesquite. Bart held his breath, afraid to move a muscle. One shift in weight and the thing would roll.

  “All clear.” Lindsey’s voice drifted over the humid wind.

  Scooping in a breath, Bart stood and grabbed the edges of Lindsey’s door. Pushing off with his legs, he pulled himself out. The craft tipped under his feet. He leaped into the bramble just as the helicopter rolled onto its blades.

  A hand closed around his arm before he could pull himself free of gnarled branches. “Bart. Are you all right?”

  He looked into eyes bluer than Texas bluebells and scrambled to his feet. “Fine.” He tried not to look at the helicopter lying nearly belly up beside him.

  “Thank God we’re safe.”

  “Thank God.” He looked up. The sky overhead was darker, the air oppressive with humidity and alive with electric charge. After checking the ground around the helicopter in vain to see if the change in position would make it possible to reclaim Lindsey’s cell phone, he focused on the storm. “We’ve got to find Daddy.”

  Lindsey squinted up at the clouds. “Maybe we can get him to some kind of shelter before the storm hits. Do you remember which direction he was heading?”

  Before he could answer, a bolt of lightning split the air. Thunder crashed over their heads.

  He’d gotten them to the ground, but they were far from safe. And somewhere out in the storm, his dad wandered alone.

  RAIN PELTED Lindsey’s face. Lightning split the sky, followed by bone-rattling crashes of thunder. She held up a hand, trying to block the raindrops’ sting, trying to see through the deluge. It was little use. She could hardly make out Bart, and he was holding her other hand.

  “Daddy could be within spitting range and we wouldn’t see him,” Bart said, echoing her thoughts. Rain collected in the brim of his hat and cascaded down his back in a waterfall. “And this damn lightning is dangerous. We need to find shelter. Wait this out.”

  “And leave your father out in this?” she yelled above the wind.

  “Covering this ground isn’t going to do a speck of good if we can’t see him.”

  She knew what he said made sense. It was impossible to see. And the lightning was dangerous. But still, she couldn’t block the memory of Bart’s eyes when he realized his father was a target. His pain at the thought of losing him. His determination to make sure that didn’t happen. She wouldn’t let Bart quit now. Not when she suspected he wanted to find shelter for her sake. “If it was just you out here, you’d keep searching, wouldn’t you?”

  Bart’s brow hardened into a frown.

  Answer enough. “We keep looking.” Gripping his hand like a lifeline, she stumbled on.

  At first the dark shape on the riverbank looked more like a heap of clothing than a human being. She picked up her pace. As they drew closer, she caught a glimpse of a face and wet gray hair. “Bart!” Lindsey yelled, pointing.

  Bart’s head snapped around. He followed her gaze, his eyes growing wide. Releasing Lindsey’s hand, he sprang into a run.

  Hiriam Rawlins lay curled on his side. His arms were wrapped around his head as if he was protecting himself from blows. His knees were drawn up to his chest. And his whole body was shaking.

  Reaching the bank, Bart fell to his knees and gathered his father into his arms.

  The older man fought against Bart’s embrace for a moment. Then his body seemed to relax. His eyes grew less panicked, his face less distraught. Finally he wrapped his arms around his son and lowered his head onto Bart’s shoulder. A veined, work-worn hand gently patted Bart’s back as if comforting a crying child.

  Lindsey stopped in her tracks and watched until tears blurred her vision and mixed with the rain.

  LINDSEY FITTED her back into a partially protected hollow in the side of a hill that sloped down to the river. Rain wicked down her hair and dripped from the end of her nose.

  Bart lowered himself next to her. Hiriam curled on the other side, his body protected under a shallow shelf of rock. The blanket from the helicopter’s first-aid kit wrapped tightly around him, the older man had finally stopped shaking. At least visibly. And at the moment, he appeared to be asleep.

  Lindsey couldn’t begin to guess all he’d been through today. How he’d gotten so far from the ranch, how frightened and confused he’d been, how cold and miserable and totally alone. How someone could victimize a confused, helpless old man was beyond her. She didn’t even want to understand that kind of evil. She shivered and wrapped her arms tight around her middle.

  “Here.” Bart spread his arms, inviting her inside.

  She snuggled against the hard plane of his chest. His arms encircled her. His heat soaked into her. His scent surrounded her and made her feel safe for the first time since the helicopter had gone down.

  A miracle.

  She thought back to the terror that had claimed her when the helicopter’s engine had quit. The cold hand of fear choking her as they had careened to the ground. And the panic that had attacked when Bart pulled out the severed radio wire. “Who would sabotage the helicopter?”

  “I have one guess.”

  “Your cousin.” She had only to close her eyes to see Kenny Rawlins glaring at Bart through angry slits as Don read the terms of Jeb’s will.

  “If both my daddy and I died, Kenny would get his hands not only on the Bar JR, but the Four Aces to boot.”

  Lindsey nodded. “Would he know how to sabotage a helicopter?”

  “He worked as a truck mechanic for a while.”

  “But that’s not the same thing as a helicopter engine, is it?”

  “It isn’t similar enough for him to know how to fix a helicopter engine, but I’ll bet it’s similar enough to know how to break one. And he could take the ELT and cut the radio wires easily enough. It would also be easy for him to get Daddy out of the house unseen. He knows his way around the ranch. He used to live here when he was a kid, before Grandaddy died.” Bart’s shoulders jerked behind her in a shrug, the movement as tight as a wound spring. “There’s only one thing that bothers me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The whole thing seems a bit ambitious for Kenny.”

  “Working on a helicopter engine?”

  “Figuring out who inherits, setting me up for Jeb’s murder, the whole thing. He’s always stuck to scams that don’t require much planning or imagination. The thought of him pulling off something this complicated…” He shook his head. “I just don’t know if he’s capable. He has to be working with someone.”

  She had to agree. In the few times she’d met Kenny, she hadn’t walked away impressed by his cunning. She searched her mind for possibilities and came up empty. “But it doesn’t seem to be Brandy Carmichael. So who?”

  “A damn good question.”

  The thought of one person out there who wanted them out of the way was scary enough. The prospect of two gave her chills. Not that she needed help with those. The rain and wind were doing a fine job. She snuggled against Bart’s warmth.

  He pulled her closer. “You were something today.”

  “Me?” She twisted in his arms to look up at him.

  He gave her a half smile. “Yes, you. You didn’t have to come with me in the helicopter. Hell, I shouldn’t have let you.”

  “That’s not your fault. I forced the issue.”

  “That’s what I mean. And after the crash. Most people wouldn’t have trudged through the rain looking for my daddy. Not with all that lightning. You never gave up. You never quit. No matter how scared you were, no matter how bad things looked, you wouldn’t quit unti
l we found him.”

  “Why would I quit?”

  His smile grew wider. “Exactly. It doesn’t even occur to you to quit. Not everyone is like that. In my experience there are damn few people like that.”

  She shook her head. “You were the one who was amazing. I had no idea a helicopter could still fly after the engine quit running. I thought we were goners.”

  “You could have fooled me. I’d say you willed me to land that chopper. Have you always stuck to your guns like that?”

  Had she? She had to admit she didn’t have any memories of throwing in the towel. Not over anything. A fact that no doubt had caused her parents more than a few headaches. “I suppose I have been pretty tenacious.”

  “I bet it served you well in law school.”

  She had to nod. “And with my family.”

  “Your family?”

  “They’re a little overprotective.” She paused. “Well, a lot overprotective. That’s why I moved to Mustang Valley. If I’d stayed in Massachusetts, they’d have built my career for me. I wanted to do it on my own.”

  “They sound like good people.”

  She drew in a deep breath. “The greatest,” she admitted. “But sometimes they want to do too much. They don’t believe I can take care of myself.”

  Bart nodded as if he’d just figured something out. “That’s why you jump down my throat every time I try to help you. Or protect you.”

  Did she? Yes, she supposed she did. “I can take care of myself. No one seems to believe that.”

  “I suppose you have brothers.”

  “Four. All older.”

  “Ah, I see,” he said, as if that explained it all. “So along with planning your career for you, did they follow you around when you went on dates?”

  “I didn’t go on dates.”

  “A woman as pretty as you? I can’t believe that.” He craned his neck to look into her eyes.