Stolen Hearts

Chapter 1 He turned, barely conscious to the restrictive blanket tangled around his legs. A slightly cool breeze ghosted through the room, caressing his bare chest. Rafael Pederos swam somewhere between the deep sleep he’d fallen into as soon as his head hit the pillow and being awake, something tugging him from dreams not worth remembering. He turned again, this time with his back to the window. Was someone yelling his name, was that what woke him? Instinctively, Rafael reached out, his arm falling across empty space. Of course, what had he expected, he spent the last two years sleeping alone, how would that have suddenly changed? “Raf!” He opened his eyes, squinting into the darkness of his bedroom. Sleep still clung to him, whispering sweetly for him to ignore the sound. He listened. All was quiet and he wondered if perhaps this was one of the instances where someone yelling in a dream catapulted him back into reality. Rafael was ready to shrug it off, the clock on his bedside table telling him that it would be another three hours before the alarm went off, when something metallic clattered against the stairs. The cacophony was enough to rattle him, his eyes popping open. “Raf! Wake up, you dolt!” “Pearl?” her name came out in a croak. With his bedroom positioned at the top of the stairs and the rest of the house quiet, his grumble was loud enough for her to discern. “Oh, do hurry and get down here. It’s urgent.” In a flash, Rafael sat up, attempting to dislodge himself from the grip of the blanket. By now his heart was thumping frantically, a mix of being startled awake and the fear of what had upset his baby sister. With a grunt of frustration, he freed himself, leaving the blanket discarded on the floor. On the way to the bedroom door he grabbed the pair of jeans he ditched the night before, slipping into them, but not bothering to do up the zipper. “Oh, hurry,” she pleaded. Rafael was at the top of the steps, hand on the rail. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He began to descend, passing one of the worn, scarred pots from the kitchen; the source of the earlier jarring music. “Are you hurt?” Auburn hair twisted into a ponytail that was draped over her shoulder, Pearl Pederos looked as though she’d been experiencing another of her restless nights. She sat, worrying her hands together in her lap and chewing her bottom lip. Could the source of her worry be another of the nightmares that haunted the deep recesses of her mind? Ever since the accident… She ushered him forth with a wave of a hand. “Quick. Don’t make me light a fire under your feet.” In the soft glow spilling out of the kitchen, Rafael was able to see his baby sister sported no visible injuries. Her slightly tan legs peeked out from underneath the hem of her nightgown, her feet bare. As he reached the bottom step, she wheeled backward, making room for him. Using one hand to propel the wheelchair forward, taking hold of him with the other, she practically dragged him off to her room. “Pearl, what’s wrong?” asked Raf, stumbling along at her side. Rafael had learned a long time ago not to question the determination and strength of his sister. The accident may have taken the use of her legs, but it hadn’t dampened her tenacity one ounce. Only a fool underestimated Pearl Pederos. “The barn, someone’s in there with the horses.” The declaration was like a slap across the face. Pearl’s room, unlike his, looked out over the barn and most of the adjacent pastures. It used to be their dad’s office and though the shelves remained, now crammed full of books, it had undergone a number of changes. It was one of the bigger spaces on the main floor and given how much Pearl loved horses, well, it just made sense for her to move in. Rafael had a clear view of what brought her to wake him. The curtains over the big window were parted enough for him to see the stable lovingly built by their grandfather and added onto by their father. Normally the only lights to be seen were three outdoor safety lights. They’d been working just fine when he made his last rounds of the evening to make sure everything was okay and the occupants resting peacefully. Now one of them was out and light poured forth from inside the barn. “What the hell?” Anger began to simmer. “Do you think it could be rustlers? Shouldn’t they be trying to get the cattle?” “I don’t know,” he said, hands clenching into fists. The horses, the cattle, it was his livelihood, the sun having kissed his skin every day, this ranch coursing through his blood. No way was he going to let someone put their situation in jeopardy by taking the most valuable things they had aside from each other; good, hard-working cow-horses. Rafael stormed out of the room, Pearl close on his heels. In the living room, he retrieved the key hidden in the hollow bottom of a brass horse statue. It unlocked the gun cabinet. He snatched up one of the rifles, making sure it was loaded and then dropped a few extra rounds in his pocket. Pearl looked at him wide eyed, quickly positioning herself in the doorway. “You can’t go out there, are you nuts?” “I have to,” he said. Rafael placed a hand on her shoulder. “Call the cops and make sure you lock the front door behind me.” “But—” “Just do it.” Rafael managed to squeeze by her, making a beeline for the door. Every moment was time wasted, time for them to make off with his herd stallion, marketable young stock, a broodmare or two. Rafael slipped on his boots, ignoring the now fearful protests of his sister. She was worried for his safety, completely understandable since rustlers could be desperate enough to shoot without question. But the horses were more than just the financial backbone of the company. They were family, some of the bloodlines going back to their great-grandfather, if not further. He never really delved that far back. Paperwork and research like that was more Pearl’s forte. “Raf!” He paused halfway out the door. “Lock the door and call the cops.” Rafael slipped out into the night, rifle at the ready.