by Em Petrova
Well, that was new. The old man was remotely sober after noon?
Zayden didn’t have anything to add to the conversation as he led the sheriff to the pasture. When they stopped at the fence, the man pulled out his cell phone and held it up to compare photos of the stolen horses on the screen to those cropping hay in Zayden’s field.
“None of ’em are branded, Sheriff.”
“That’s because they’d just been purchased at auction and the owner hadn’t gotten around to it yet.”
When he held up the phone, Zayden bit back a curse. Sure enough, the paint mare standing in his pasture matched the one on the screen, spot for spot.
“Looks like we found one.”
He grunted but said nothing. What was there to say? He wasn’t about to cover for the old man—he never had. He just fixed the shit his father wrecked in life, and even in death the asshole was screwing him over.
“The rest don’t match,” he told the sheriff after he flipped through the rest of the images. “Come back for the paint and leave me out of it.”
“Mind if I have a look around?” The sheriff eyed him.
“All you’ll find is a dead tractor and a lot of rundown buildings, Sheriff. Those horses right there are all I got on the property. If you want to go searching for more, then you show me a warrant first.”
A long look passed between them, and Zayden stood his ground. It wasn’t his first run-in with a lawman and it sure wouldn’t be the last.
But dammit, when would it stop?
It can only stop with me.
The realization wasn’t one he could face right now, but he sure would be thinking hard on it later.
“I got work to do. You can see yourself out.” He waved toward the driveway.
The sheriff gave a short nod and walked away.
When he’d gotten into his SUV and driven off, Zayden tore off his hat and pinched the bridge of his nose hard. At least it wasn’t the white horse, but the paint was the next best in the herd, and since it was still young, he’d considered training it. The animal would have fetched a decent price, but now that couldn’t happen.
He walked into the house. Mimi sat at the sewing machine, doing some of her side work. The thin wisps of white hair falling on her shoulders gave him a pang to see how she’d aged. When had it happened?
Living with his father, it was a wonder she’d kept any hair at all. If he’d continued to live with him, he would have pulled out every last strand on his head.
“Mimi.”
She didn’t move, just kept sewing.
He said her name two more times, and still she didn’t hear him. When he touched her shoulder, she turned, and he saw that it wasn’t the sewing machine that she couldn’t hear over—the woman had earbuds in and was listening to music.
Zayden’s chuckle took him by surprise. “What are you listening to?”
“Luke Bryan. He’s real good.”
He bobbed his head. “That he is.”
“What did you need, Zayden?”
“Sheriff’s comin’ up to get the paint in the pasture.”
Her eyes flew open wide and then redness seeped into her cheeks. The Indian coloring didn’t conceal the fact she was blushing.
Zayden stared at her. “You knew.”
She compressed her lips, making lines pop out around them. “I guessed when new horses showed up here on the ranch. I couldn’t think where your father would get enough money for horses, but I wondered if he’d won them in a bet.”
Great. He was into gambling in the final years too.
“Well, one of them’s stolen property. Hell, all of them might be.”
They stared at each other and he sighed. “Not your responsibility, Mimi. I’ll handle it. I just wanted to tell you I’m going to ride out to the herd and the sheriff will be coming.”
She nodded, stuffed the earbud back into her ear and returned to her sewing.
When he walked back out of the house, he swore at the situation, but no words could make things better. He was chained to a sinking ship, with stolen cargo and no way to stay afloat.
No, he wasn’t stuck. He could leave. Selling the property might be the only option, and Mimi had told him she could move to town and start over without the Moons dragging her down. The woman deserved a better life.
Didn’t he?
He’d believed that by leaving Stokes he could find something different for himself, but now he realized he’d just continued to mess up. In Stokes or another town, location didn’t matter when he was the reason for his life being at a dead end.
His thoughts returned to Esme. The woman deserved a good man, not the likes of him. He had to quit dicking around with her before he hurt her. The last thing he wanted was to be another mistake in her life.
She’d told him she was changing her ways. What did that mean? She wasn’t going to date anymore? He guessed in a few years, she’d have a ring on her finger and a baby-on-board sticker on the back of her car.
The thought gave him a pang. Jealousy never mixed well with him, and he shoved the green snake away.
After saddling Zeus, he rode out. His mind clung to memories of Esme in this very saddle with him.
A better life began with him, with him making better choices and working hard.
He had everything he needed right here on the ranch—land to plant and feed the animals he put here. Even if he had to buy one horse at a time, he could fill the gaps with odd jobs in town. Esme would move on.
How often would he run into her? Would he be able to see her holding another man’s hand?
Why couldn’t he shake the woman from his brain? She hadn’t only curled up in his arms—she’d found a way into his heart, and it would take a hell of a lot to evict her again, but he had to try.
He was a drunk’s son. A thief’s son. He didn’t even have a high school diploma and nothing but a string of prior arrests behind him, a few bucks and some fallow land to his name now. He had to let her go.
When he crossed from Moon lands to Ute territory, he turned his horse toward the houses backed up against the lake. He hadn’t been here in years, but he knew the layout well enough to locate Mimi’s great-nephew.
The house had a brand-new green metal roof, and the white siding looked in good repair. Ouray must be doing well for himself. As he neared the house, Ouray appeared at the front door.
“Moon. Everything all right on the ranch?” His appearance reminded him of Mimi.
He dismounted and kept hold of the reins. “Good to see ya, Ouray. Been a long time.”
The man faced him with a smile. “It has.” They shook hands, and he was glad for his friendship and all he had done for the ranch—and his great-aunt. Zayden carried guilt over leaving her, but knowing she had her great-nephew at her back lessened the sting.
“I came with a few questions.” Zayden didn’t beat around the bush.
He nodded. “I’m listening.”
“You wouldn’t know anything about some horses that showed up on the ranch, ’bout four months back, would you?”
Ouray’s dark eyes penetrated him. “I know they were sold.”
“To whom? Ute?”
“Yes.”
“Damn,” he said quietly. Getting the horses back from someone on the reservation meant he’d need to come up with the funds to pay for them. It burned, knowing he would have to buy them back, only to turn them over to the sheriff. It was the right thing to do, but would he ever get ahead in life or escape the chaos his father left behind?
“How much? Do you know?” he asked Ouray.
“Three thousand apiece.”
“Jesus,” he drawled.
“They were good trail horses. The man who bought them uses them for trail rides for visitors. He makes back what he put in.”
“Hell.” How could he come up with fifteen grand? He wasn’t digging his way out of this mess anytime soon, and the prospect of walking away from it all and giving it the middle finger on the way out the door
looked better and better.
“I have to buy them back,” he said.
Ouray raised a brow. “It’s a lot of money.”
“I’ll get it. Can you tell me where this man lives?”
He pointed. “Over the rise, follow the road. You can’t miss the ranch or the sign for trail rides.”
Zayden bowed his head. “Thank you.” He gathered the reins in his hand, prepared to swing back into the saddle and head home again. Pausing, he turned to Ouray. “Thank you for all you’ve done for me on the ranch. And for your great-aunt.”
“Chipeta is an elder, and we take care of our family.” His simple statement left Zayden with a hollow ache in his chest for something he’d never have—a family way of life he’d never experience.
Nodding, he put his foot in the stirrup and hitched his leg over the horse. When he guided it back home, he took the route past the ranch where the horses were.
Damn his father to hell. No—make that the seventh circle of hell. He deserved to burn for all this underhanded mess he’d created and then saddled Zayden with. If his brothers were here, together they might figure out a way to rally the funds to buy back the stock, but alone? There weren’t enough trees in all of Stokes to cut down that would pay for this fucked-up crime.
All the way home, he brooded over the facts. He came up with answers and then discarded them. By the time he reached the ranch lands again, the only thing he knew for certain was his dad was lucky he was dead, because otherwise, Zayden would strangle him with his bare hands.
As soon as he returned from his ride, he found a message waiting for him, a voicemail left on his phone.
A seed of pain grew in his chest as he spotted her number… Esme. The last thing she needed was to get caught up in this with him. Best thing to do was ignore her, just delete the message without finding out what she wanted.
What if she really needs me, though?
With the phone clutched tight in his hand, he stared into space. Right this second, she could be in trouble.
Goddammit.
He brought the phone to his ear and listened. Her voice flooded him with wanting. His chest burned, and his cock twitched at the sweet tones in his ear.
Hi, Zayden. I’m on my lunch break, and well… I just wanted to hear a friendly voice.
Nobody ever called him friendly. The woman must be crazy.
At least she wasn’t abandoned along a back road by some ex of hers or put into danger by a blind date. She only wanted to chat—with him.
I’m on break for another twenty minutes if you get this and want to call me back. Her flirty tone brought a smile to his lips.
I work ‘til four o’clock and I’ll be home around four-thirty. If you aren’t busy… Don’t feel obligated to call back. I was just thinking of you. Bye.
He checked the time on his phone against the time the voicemail was left. He’d missed her break time. He issued a long sigh and closed his eyes as her message ended.
Calling her back was a bad idea. Hadn’t he already decided against seeing her?
Dammit. He wanted to hear her sweet voice again—she was the only good thing he’d found in Stokes or anywhere else, for that matter.
He swallowed hard. He was getting in too deep.
A voice spoke up in the back of his mind: Sure you aren’t already?
Chapter Ten
Beer bottles clinked together as the waitress cleared off the table. “There ya go,” she sang out, throwing Zayden a smile before she moved away.
He waved for Esme to sit. She sank to the wooden chair and eyed the cowboy who seated himself across from her. A crinkle of strain between his brows had her wondering what put it there.
“I didn’t think you would call me back,” she said.
He rubbed his brow. “I wanted to see you.”
He sounded less than enthusiastic about it. Maybe she should have stayed home instead of agreeing for him to pick her up and grab a pizza together.
“Bad day?” she asked.
He watched her direct her curls behind her ear, gaze heavy and full of too many questions for him to answer.
With a nod, he said, “You could say that.”
Her day held some rough spots too. Jason called her into his office and asked again if she’d made a decision about spending a few hours a day with him, learning the ropes of the job opening. The way he looked at her and the innuendo in his tone were unmistakable.
Fact was, she decided almost from the start she wanted to refuse the offer, but she felt more than a little trapped. If she said no, could her job be at risk? She did want the promotion, just on her own terms.
She sighed. She needed to figure out a lot.
“Sounds like you’ve lived through a bad day too.” Zayden gave her a hint of his crooked smile, the one that curled her toes and made her beg for his hands all over her.
“I don’t really want to talk about it.” She reached for the menu and flipped it open.
“Me neither.” He did the same.
While he read the selection, she shot glances at him. He hadn’t shaved in what looked like a day or two. The dark stubble coating his jaw made her thighs tingle. She clamped them together and tried to ignore the pangs of need shooting through her lower belly.
She wanted him—that was undeniable. But if she didn’t want to lose her heart to the wrong man again, she had to figure out where his mind was in all this. Zayden was a lot of colors of the rainbow, vibrant and full of life. But mixed together, they would make gray. She needed to know where he stood with her.
Most men were different from women. They separated sex from emotions and didn’t think much of the act as a bond between people. And while she wasn’t prepared to jump into another relationship, being with Zayden made her feel way more warm and fuzzy than simple lust ever could.
She’d probably opened herself up to another letdown. But the look in his eyes told her she could be wrong.
He caught her gaze—their eyes clung. When he tore his stare away and riveted it on the menu, she tried to shuck off her breathlessness and focus on what to order.
“How hungry are you?” he asked.
She wet her lips. “Very.”
His gaze shot to hers, and they shared a knowing smile. Her flirtatious reply was obviously going to lead them out the door and straight into each other’s arms. The chemistry was off the charts, the attraction hotter and more dangerous than anything she’d experienced with other men. But she couldn’t read Zayden Moon.
She leaned forward. “Pepperoni?”
His lips tipped upward in that sexy-as-sin quirk that made her knees weak. When the waitress walked back over, it was clear from the toss of her hair and wide smile she was affected by the cowboy as well.
Eyeing Esme, he said, “Pepperoni pizza and cheese sticks for an appetizer?”
Her gaze floated down to his hard mouth. Those lips could do so much damage to her body, shaking it apart with mind-blowing releases.
He noted the direction of her stare and smiled. The waitress shifted from foot to foot, probably just as affected by that smile. “Is that all for you two?”
Esme nodded, and the server moved off, leaving them alone again.
Silence fell between them, loaded with what felt like dynamite. One glance and they’d explode.
A shivery breath escaped her, and she toyed with her hair, pushing it off her face. When the curls bounced forward again, she twisted one around a forefinger while Zayden tracked the movement with lidded eyes.
“You know what you’re doing to me, Esme.”
“Same thing you’re doing to me.” She lifted a hand to her own cheek and rubbed a finger over it to indicate his growth of beard.
He sat back in his chair and avoided looking at her directly for a long minute. “How was work?”
“Well, I dealt with a very disgruntled customer today. The man screamed at me and told me that I was wrong, that his account wasn’t overdrawn.”
“Was it?”
/> She nodded.
“What do you do when people don’t have enough to cover their debts?”
She shrugged. “Not much that I can do. I state the facts and the terms and conditions of the account. Often they ask to speak to the manager.” At mention of the manager, her stomach gave a twist, like a small dagger digging deep into the flesh.
When she looked up, he watched her with intensity, a dark glimmer in his eyes. “What else happened?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re paler than you were a minute ago.”
Am I? Who notices things like that anyway?
“Everything is fine. Boy, I’m hungry.” The last thing she wanted to talk about was Jason and his offer.
Luckily, their cheese sticks arrived in a paper-covered basket, the scents heaven to her hungry stomach. She took a batter-dipped stick and pushed the basket toward Zayden. Just the sight of his long fingers pinching the food and drawing it to his lips had her squeezing her thighs again.
He watched her take a bite. He took one too. Then she swirled her tongue around her cheese stick, and he groaned.
“Esme…”
“Hmm?” She did it again, this time slipping the end between her lips. He watched her for a pounding heartbeat, and then she abruptly bit the end off.
His crooked grin was enough reward for her teasing. She smiled back, and some of the tension between them eased.
“Were you glad I called?” she asked.
“Actually, yeah. I needed a distraction.”
She looked at him harder. “You know you can talk to me, right? We are friends, and I’ve told you loads about my life and problems.”
He hesitated and swallowed the rest of his cheese stick. “It’s complicated.”
“What isn’t in this world?”
“It’s more complicated than most things.”
“Well, I’ve been stranded on a mountain during a storm, so I’m pretty sure I can handle whatever it is you have to tell me.” She nonchalantly plucked another cheese stick from the basket.
The weight of his sigh pressed down on her from across the table. She couldn’t fathom what he was going through.