She eased down another step, pausing when the wood creaked.
The outer door banged open. He was in the house. He must not make it to the stairs. Her toes curling into the wood, she descended two more steps, then paused to fill her lungs.
A board creaked in the kitchen. He was by the stove. The coffee pot rattled. Had the intruder come for food or drink? She clung to the wall. Should she continue going down or stay there, hoping and praying the man would drain the coffee pot, swipe the rest of the pie, and leave?
The coffee pot slammed to the stove. The man muttered. She couldn’t make out his words, but they didn’t sound friendly. Heavy boots hit the floor hard. He moved across the kitchen. Toward the stairs?
The stairwell was dark. Moonlight gave the kitchen an eerie glow.
If she slipped into the room, could she distract him from the stairs and her sleeping son?
Wood bit into her hand as she gripped her weapon and eased down the last few steps. She paused. A shadowy bulk toward the table revealed the intruder. Soundless as the air she breathed, she slipped into the kitchen, pressing herself against the wall, inching away from him. Maybe she could make it out the door and run to the bunkhouse for help.
But could she leave Eddie alone? She mentally measured the distance to where she’d find Jace against the distance the intruder would have to go to reach her bedroom. He had a distinct advantage.
But if she could make it to the porch, she’d scream her lungs out, counting on it drawing the man toward her and awakening Jace at the same time.
The wooden floor chilled the soles of her feet as she edged toward the cupboards. She’d pass the stove and then dash for the door.
Squeak! The sound exploded in the silence.
A laugh as cruel as it was mirthless grated against her skin, invaded her thoughts, and stalled her breath.
“Ah. Nice of ya to join me.” More sharp-edged laughter. “Youse and me are gonna have fun.”
The outer door slammed shut, setting Skip into furious barking.
But Skip couldn’t help her. She was shut in alone with a man twice her size. The floor crackled. He moved. But what direction?
Before she could decide, huge hands clamped over her arms. Hot fetid breath swept over her face.
With her unable to lift her arms, her weapon was of no use. She had to free herself, and she squirmed and kicked and shot her head forward, satisfied when her forehead cracked into her assailant.
He let out a roar. “You need a lesson in manners.”
He needed a lesson in how to behave like a gentleman. She raised her arm, grabbed the length of wood with both hands and brought it down.
Chapter Thirteen
Jace rolled over in the narrow cot. Why was the dog making such an infernal noise? Must be a coyote or bear in the yard. Then he came fully conscious. Or someone had invited themselves to the house. In the middle of the night?
He bolted from the bed, pulled on trousers, grabbed the rifle from over the door, and raced across the yard. “Ow. Ow.” Rocks and weeds bit into his feet.
Skip continued to bark.
A yowl roared from the house. At least it wasn’t Dianne’s voice.
A huge shadow leaped from the porch and mounted a horse. Hoofbeats thundered from the yard.
Jace didn’t slow down until he burst through the open door. “Dianne? Where are you? Are you hurt?”
“Jace!” A whisper faint and quivering.
“It’s me.” He found the lamp on the table and lit it. “Are you all right?”
Her eyes practically consumed her face. “Oh, Jace. Am I ever glad to see you.” With a whimper, she flung herself into his arms, rocking him back on his heels.
At first, he was too stunned, too unsettled to react. Then he enfolded her in his arms. “Shh. You’re safe now.”
