Careful to avoid the creaky porch, he slowly snakes around the side of the house looking for any openings. The windows are shut tight against the snow and cold. Perhaps the backdoor will be unlocked? Checking the door, he curses and turns away. A quick look and he chooses his hiding spot, behind the outhouse. Grinning in the darkness he knows soon they will have to come out and that is when he will move inside! No need for him to freeze all night.
He squats down beside a tree and rests. He pulls his prized knife out of its sheath. The large bowie knife has come in handy. Killing Cassie would be too easy, and she must be punished. Will she beg? His smile grows, he knows better. She is a fighter! A door opens, and light fills the predawn air, Aiden freezes.
“Damn, it’s cold,” the old man’s voice whispers. He rushes to the outhouse and shuts the door, leaving the back door of the house wide open.
Aiden stands up and runs quietly for the door. He can feel the heat rush out and embrace him as he steps inside the kitchen. He swiftly looks around for a hiding spot and finds a large dining room off to the side. The long curtains over the windows provide the perfect cover. Just as he settles behind them, he hears the back door slam shut. Sock muffled footsteps sound out and fade away as the man returns to his bedroom at the other end of the house.
Aiden breathes a quiet exhale and looks down, realizing he has left wet footprints leading directly to where he is hiding!
‘Well, so much for stealth,’ he mumbles lowly. Now is better than later. He strips the outer layer of his clothes off so he will be able to move unhindered and stashes them under the dining room table and chairs.
Aiden knows that the old man went to one side of the large ranch style house. That means the guest rooms are probably the other side of the house, perfect. He moves silently as his wet boots leave his trail through the house towards the back rooms.
A long hallway has three doors entering it. He chooses the closest one and places his ear against the smooth wood surface. Hearing no sound, he opens it and steps inside, pulling the door shut behind him. The soft light of dawn filters in from the two windows. He sees a sleeping form in the bed and moves to the side to see if it’s his target. No, not Cassie, but someone else.
This death will need to be silent. His raised knife stops as feels the cold hard press of steel against his temple and the sharp bite of a blade against his throat.
“Drop your knife,” Dalton orders him.
Chapter 36
Bill takes up his position outside of the barn while the other four spread out on the ranch. He will draw as many to him as he can. He looks around and finds a gas lantern on the barn wall. He steps through the door into the barn and ignores the animals inside. He breaks the top off of the lantern and pours the oil in the corner of the first empty stall he quietly passes. Listening for the ranch hands he knows will be showing up for work soon, he takes a small amount of hay from the animals feed trough and stacks it inside to increase the heat.
The sun is still working its way up when he lifts the match to strike it. Pain explodes on the back of his head, and he falls to his face unconscious.
“Now you look like a Bloody Bill,” Pierce jokes as he ties the man's hands behind his back. Two of the barn hands, jerk him to his knees while Pierce throws some water in his face. He slaps him hard to help him wake up.
Bill groans and his eyes roll open. Pierce glares at him, and the jovial nature is gone, replaced by steel. “You picked the wrong family to attack.”
On the other side of the ranch, Bob watches from hiding as two ranch hands bring horses to the trough to water them and he grins. ‘I could use a horse,' he thinks as he waits to see if the men separate. When they don't, he smiles and moves in. A flick of his wrist and a knife buries itself in one man's throat. The shock flickers in his eyes as he falls gurgling and clutching at the cold steel in his throat.
The other man spins, drawing his pistol and is killed instantly when the other knife before he can fire a single shot.
“Two down, oh shit…” the first man has ripped the knife from his throat and raises his pistol to shoot Bob. John appears from the side of the trough and swings his bowie knife, slicing the man’s hand off at the wrist before turning and ramming it in his heart.
“What are you doing here?” Bob snarls retrieving his bloody knives.
“You're welcome. I smell a trap. I don't see anyone moving around. This place should be busier than this,” John murmurs looking around nervously.
Cole is thinking the same thing as he hides in a tree blind from across the cattle pens, watching the two of them take out the ranch hands.
The bell rings on the front porch of the ranch house, and Cole turns to watch the housekeeper greet some men and sips on hot coffee. The bunkhouses start to become more active, and he relaxes a little. A sharp sting
