“Just go get someone with a tranquilizer gun please,” Ty said in a soothing, almost sing-song voice. “Slowly.”
Zane backed away, watching in fascination as the tiger lay down in the grass and rested his chin on Ty’s stomach. Mark had already retrieved Annie, and she was readying her tranquilizer gun even as Zane reached the porch.
They tossed out the meat that had been thawing for the BBQ to lure Barnum away from Ty, and as soon as Ty was out of his reach, Annie shot the dart. They had to wait only a minute or two before the tiger was out.
Ty sat down beside him and laid a hand on his head as everyone else surveyed the damage. Harrison’s men and several of the party guests who’d been caught in the house rushed to the barn to try to contain the fire. Minutes later, they could hear the police cars and fire trucks approaching, sirens blazing. Tish and several interns from the Roaring Springs Sanctuary arrived ten minutes after the police to take possession of Barnum and return him to the sanctuary.
Zane thought Ty might cry as they loaded Barnum into the truck.
“Will they have to put him down since he attacked someone?” Ty asked the sheriff as the Roaring Springs truck ambled down the drive.
The sheriff glanced at Cody’s ravaged body and shook his head. “Looks like he got hit by a truck to me. Ain’t that what happened, son?”
Ty stared at him, eyes wide. Then he nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“That’s right. A very angry truck,” the sheriff drawled as he walked away.
The ambulance arrived a full twenty minutes after it had been called. By then, Cody had lost a good deal of blood and gone into shock. Annie refused to treat him, saying that the Hippocratic oath didn’t extend to vets or to people who shot guns at her baby girl.
Zane couldn’t blame her.
Ronnie and Cody would both live, though Cody would likely lose an arm and a few non-essential organs. Jamie had bled out from the shotgun blast to the chest, dying long before help could get to him. Zane suffered a pang of remorse over the death of his cousin, but he didn’t waste much effort in mourning a man who’d been willing to kill them all just for money.
The man in Laredo, and the question of why the drug trade had veered so far off its course, were both large problems. They weren’t Zane’s problems, though, and even if he wanted to be involved, it wasn’t his jurisdiction.
Joe was horrified and crushed by the whole affair. Cody had been his best friend. Zane felt sorry for him, even though he was more relieved to find that Joe’d had nothing to do with any of it.
Beverly sat on the porch swing with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, staring. They had checked her for shock and deemed her in good health, then left her to sit there.
Zane eased into the seat beside her, watching the commotion in the yard in silence for a few seconds. Ty was sitting on the porch steps, his shirt gone, his arm in a sling, and his ribs patched up until they could get him to the hospital. Mark and Joe flanked him. The three of them appeared to simply be sitting there in dazed silence. Sadie perched between Ty and Mark, babbling as they nodded in response. She wasn’t at all fazed, and she was recounting the events of the night as if it’d been a movie she’d watched rather than a terrifying experience she had lived through.
Zane knew one thing for damn sure: he would never make fun of Ty again for teaching a toddler how to jab a pressure point.
Annie and Harrison stood with the sheriff, relating what had happened, and many of the party guests had filtered back toward the house to tell their versions as well. The local press had not been allowed onto the property, but Zane knew they would all be loitering down at the gate. It wouldn’t be long before they got the story.
Beverly turned her head and Zane met her gaze. It was excruciating to look into her eyes and see nothing there but that emotionless mask hiding what she truly thought and felt. Zane never intended to inflict that kind of pain on Ty again.
“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.
“How about ‘good job’? Or ‘thank you’? How about telling me Ty’s a good man and you’re happy for me?”
Beverly stared for long minutes. Zane tried to find some hint of emotion in her icy blue eyes, but there was nothing there. She nodded curtly and looked away, holding her chin high, stubborn and proper as ever.
Zane sighed as the cold settled in his chest. Beverly had never known anything but ranches. Like frontierswomen before her, protecting the homestead was first and foremost, even if it meant sacrificing the things they loved. She was still doing that, protecting her ranch and her family’s legacy. She had simply lost sight of what her family meant.
He looked down at the bandage wrapped around his thigh. The bullet had gone straight through, narrowly missing an artery. He’d been lucky and would only be limping for a while. Ty had fared much worse, all for the sake of Zane’s family.
He nodded, looking over at Beverly one last time. “Good-bye, Mother,” he murmured before standing and limping away.
Ty and Zane spent most of Sunday night, Monday, and the majority of Tuesday in the hospital. Each of them had several bags of IV fluids pumped into them, and when Zane heard a commotion down the hall, he knew that someone had just ordered a new cast put on Ty’s hand. Since Ty had lost a lot of blood and had nowhere to run, Zane was fairly certain he’d wind up in another cast.
Wednesday was almost worse than the hospital—from which Ty had checked himself out early, against medical advice—spent filling out official statements. Ty cursed and muttered the entire time they sat in the barely air-conditioned trailer that served as the sheriff’s outpost for the ranch community. The sheriff had offered to come to them, but Zane knew Ty wouldn’t make a very credible witness while still confined to a hospital bed.
After some intense questioning, one of the Cactus Creek hands had revealed where the stolen tigers were being kept. Tish and her people had already transported the other three tigers back to their homes. Barnum had been deemed a hero by several local news stations, and Ty and Zane were both in a hurry to get out of town before the national press caught wind of the story.
The sheriff’s deputies had gone with Harrison to the pump house, and after a little searching they’d found an entrance to the underground system of caverns carved in the limestone. The river that had been the source of the spring was still trickling; it had merely dug deeper as it beat through the soft stone.
Within the caverns, they found hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of cocaine.