Carpathian 22 - Dark Predator

could confide in. I have absolutely no idea what I’m going to do to get me and Esteban out of this mess, but you’ve made me feel better.”
    Is it safe for you to go home?
    Marguarita wanted to invite her to stay, but with Zacarias in residence and knowing Esteban and DS were looking to meet a De La Cruz, she felt she had to protect Zacarias. But still, she felt afraid for Lea.
    Lea shrugged. “Esteban loves me. He doesn’t believe DS would really hurt either one of us, but if it came down to it, I believe he would protect me. And I plan on avoiding DS. I just wanted you to know not to trust them when they come here. And they’ll come. I just don’t know what they’re up to. Once I’m back home I can try to get Esteban to tell me.”
    Marguarita shook her head quickly.
    There’s no need, really, Lea. Even if they come here, what are they going to see? The boys at work. Me. You don’t see a De La Cruz anywhere around, do you? They won’t, either. They’ll look around and then go home.
    Lea nodded. “I guess I shouldn’t worry. And the De La Cruz family is very powerful. They probably have people like DS targeting them all the time.”
    The warning siren went off alerting Marguarita that something had happened somewhere on the ranch. Marguarita leaped to her feet, racing toward the front door. She could hear the pounding of hooves as horsemen approached the house at a wild gallop. Marguarita flung the door open. Julio stood with his fist upraised, face white beneath his tan, his clothes covered in blood.
    “We need the helicopter pilot, Marguarita. Ricco’s been gored. His horse threw him and the cattle stampeded. It’s bad. Really bad.”
    She raced back into the bathroom and grabbed the first-aid kit while Julio made the call for the pilot.
    Julio was swearing when she reached his side. She sketched a question mark.
    “Charlie’s drinking again. He’s gone just when we need him most.” Julio shoved his hand through his hair. “He won’t make it if we don’t get him to a hospital.”
    “I can fly a helicopter,” Lea said. “I have a license. I can fly small planes as well. My father owned a charter service, and we all learned to fly.”
    Julio swung around to scowl at the woman as if she’d grown two heads. “You better know what you’re talking about. Ricco’s going to die if we don’t get him medical attention.”
    Color crept up Lea’s neck into her face. “I can fly him to the hospital. I’ve logged hundreds of hours in a helicopter and more in small planes. I can fly just about anything. It’s what my family did.”
    “Then you’re the pilot,” Julio said. “Let’s go. Come on, Marguarita, you’re going to have to try to keep him alive until we make it to help.”
    They ran toward the big hangar housing the aircraft. One thing she had always been grateful to the De La Cruz family for was the first-class equipment they always supplied. The ranch was out so far that they used aircraft for medical aid as well as for checking the cattle and horses in the hills and fields.
    “Is your helicopter kept in good condition?” Lea asked, running to keep up with Julio’s longer strides.
    “Yes. It’s always serviced after every run. But you’d better double-check. I have no idea how long Charlie’s been drinking this time,” Julio replied grimly.
    Several men rushed toward the hangar, carrying Ricco on a stretcher. Marguarita raced to intercept them, trying to inspect the wound as they took him to the helicopter. The steer had caught Ricco in the abdomen and it looked bad. Very bad. She didn’t think, even with a surgeon standing by, that he had much of a chance. She glanced at the sky and looked over the stretcher at Julio, a question in her eyes.
    Julio looked as grim as she felt. He wasn’t stupid. He’d seen what a maddened steer could do before. The sun was still a ball in the sky, but it was dropping slowly. The sky was clear with few clouds. They had a good hour before sunset. Ricco didn’t have that kind of time. She’d seen what the sun had done to Zacarias. She shook her head. Julio glared at her as the men carefully loaded Ricco into the helicopter. Marguarita climbed in beside him and tore open his shirt.
    She gasped and put pressure on the wound. There was no way he could possibly make it, no matter how fast they got the helicopter into the air.
    Zacarias. She didn’t want to force him to tell her he couldn’t help, but the wound was ghastly and no way