by Janet Dailey
Needing to move, she headed down the front steps. Her father had never liked her wandering the ranch alone after dark, but she wasn’t a child anymore, and she didn’t plan to be gone long.
The security light clicked on as she reached the bottom of the steps and moved out into the yard. Her shadow stretched behind her, elongated by the angle of the light. With each step, gravel crunched under her sneakers. She’d hoped that walking might help clear her thoughts, but her father’s words kept replaying in her mind. His support of Kyle had caught her by surprise. What had he been thinking?
Maybe Jasper’s death had made Will more aware of his own mortality. Maybe he wanted to see her safely settled. Or maybe he was hoping for grandchildren to carry on his line. Erin loved her father, but marrying anyone just to please him could turn out to be the biggest mistake of her life.
Pausing, she scanned the yard for any sign of Henry. But if the big bull snake was out of his den, he was evidently hunting somewhere else. A smile teased Erin’s lips as she remembered how Luke Maddox had grabbed her in a panic to keep her from stepping on the scary but nonvenomous snake. She’d glimpsed the vulnerable, human side of the farrier that night.
But she certainly hadn’t seen that side of him since. The word prickly didn’t do the man’s disposition justice. She didn’t look forward to working with him tomorrow.
She passed the windmill, its vanes barely moving in the listless breeze. Now she could hear the mares and foals in the paddock. Their peaceful blowing and nickering told her all was well with them. Being with horses always calmed her spirit. That was just one of the reasons why Erin had dedicated her life to breeding, raising, and training them.
Her horses were like her children. The thought of selling them off to keep the ranch afloat through the drought was enough to break her heart. But she was a Tyler—Will’s daughter and Bull’s granddaughter. The long-range future of the Rimrock was in her hands. She would do what had to be done.
The moon was rising to the east, a thin sliver above the distant hills. Beyond the pens, Erin could see the mares moving in the shadows, keeping their foals close. The paddock was large, about the size of a rodeo arena. The near side faced the barn and the pens. The far side bordered on open land that sloped up to the foothills of the escarpment. It was a safe place as long as the horses stayed together, but a straying foal, alone at night, could become prey for a roving pack of coyotes or feral dogs. The mares seemed to know this. They stayed alert for any danger—which made it strange that they hadn’t warned Erin about the dark shape of a man standing by the paddock fence.
Her pulse lurched when she saw him. She paused, about to back away and make a silent retreat, when the man turned his head and saw her. The faint glow of the security light fell on his face. It was Luke Maddox.
His relaxed posture sent an unspoken message that he wasn’t going anywhere. “Does your daddy know you’re wandering out here at night, young lady?” His voice dripped irony. “Don’t you know there could be some unsavory characters hanging around the place with mischief on their minds?”
“That’s my problem,” she retorted. “And this is my ranch. I’m the one who should be asking the questions.”
“So, ask away.”
The man’s insolent undertone made her want to lash out at him. But something told her that if she did, he’d only laugh at her. “I’ll start by asking what you’re doing out here,” she said. “Shouldn’t you be in the bunkhouse?”
“I thought you were running a ranch, not a prison camp. Is it against the rules to go outside—especially when that damned bunkhouse is noisier than a riot in a Tijuana cathouse? I came out here for some peace and quiet.”
“Well, then, I’ve got some good news for you.” Erin claimed her own spot against the fence. They stood a few feet apart, looking out over the paddock. “My father asked me to clear out one side of the duplex for you tomorrow. You can take your meals in the bunkhouse, but you’ll have your own quarters.”
“Now that’s right nice. Tell your father I said thank you.” He actually sounded sincere.
“You can thank the man they’ll be burying tomorrow. It was his place for years. Boxing up his things won’t be easy for me. Jasper Platt was loved and respected by everyone on this ranch. He’ll be missed—terribly.”
“I’ll keep that in mind when I move in. If you need help packing, let me know.”
“You’ll be too busy shoeing horses to help,” Erin said. “That’s another thing. Tomorrow Sky and my father are taking Jasper’s body to the Hill Country for burial. I’m being left in charge.”
“So you’ll be my boss for the day. That should be interesting.”
Erin bristled. “My father’s been training me to run this ranch for years. And Sky’s been teaching me to manage horses most of my life. I’m as capable as any man on the Rimrock. I can take anything you throw at me, and don’t you forget it. Oh—and I’ll be alone, without a dueña. Sorry about your precious reputation.”
A slow grin sidled across his face. His laughter was a bone-deep chuckle. “Remind me not to throw anything at you,” he said. “But as long as you’re going to be around tomorrow, I’ll plan to have a look at your stallions. Those boys tend to be unpredictable, and I’d just as soon not have any sur—”
He broke off, suddenly tense. The mares were stirring, snorting their wariness, calling their foals closer.
“What is it?” Erin asked.
“Shhh,” he whispered. “Along the back fence line, beyond the horses. That moving shadow. Do you see it?”
Erin peered across the paddock, into the darkness beyond the reach of the security light. She shook her head. “I don’t see anything. Maybe it’s a coyote, or just the breeze blowing some brush.”
“No. I only caught a glimpse of it, but it moved like a man. And listen to the horses. Something’s spooking them. Stay here. I’m going to check it out.” Keeping low, he slipped between the fence rails.
“But you don’t even have a gun,” Erin whispered. “You can’t just—”
“Stay here and be quiet. If you hear a ruckus, go for help.” Without another word, he vanished into the shadows.
* * *
Keeping to the darkness, Luke moved along the fence toward the far side of the paddock. The tall, shadowy figure he’d glimpsed could almost have been a trick of light and shadow, or a product of his imagination. But the wariness of the mares had told him otherwise. Somebody was out there. And he’d bet good money that whoever it was, they were up to no good.
Too bad he hadn’t brought the .38 he kept under the seat of his truck, Luke reflected. If the intruder had a weapon, Luke would be at a disadvantage. As it was, the best he could hope for would be to get a look at him, or at least scare the bastard off.
A stand of mesquite grew shoulder high near the back corner of the paddock. Using it as a screen, Luke scanned the length of the stout barbed wire fence that separated the grassy pasture from the brushy foothills that rose to the west. Clumps of sage, chamisa, and mesquite grew outside the fence, offering plenty of cover. Only when the strange figure moved did Luke catch a glimpse of long, bony limbs and straight, black hair. As he moved closer for a better look, a flock of quail, bedded in the mesquite, exploded almost under his feet. The burst of calling, fluttering birds sent the alarmed intruder sprinting off to vanish into the darkness.
Swearing, Luke straightened to his full height. There was no way he could catch up with the strange figure. For now, there was nothing to do but go back to where he’d left Erin.
There was no need to be stealthy now. He fished a small LED flashlight out of his pocket and switched it on to illuminate his path over the bumpy ground. He was halfway across the paddock when he saw Erin coming to meet him. “I told you to stay put,” he said.
“No need for that now, is there? Do you always carry a flashlight?”
“Only when there’s a chance I might run into Henry.”
She laughed—not a tinkly, little girl
laugh, but a full-bodied woman’s laugh that surprised Luke with its innocent sensuality. He forced himself to focus on the danger that lurked in the darkness beyond the paddock.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said. “I saw a man outside the fence, tall and thin, with long hair. When those birds flew up, he ran. I don’t know who he was or what he was up to. But people with good intentions don’t go sneaking around in the dark.”
Luke was hoping she’d be sensibly frightened. Instead she was excited. “You’ve got a flashlight. Let’s go look for tracks. That way, if we see them again, we’ll recognize them.”
“I’ll look—after I’ve seen you safely to your front porch.”
“No, I need to see them, too, so I’ll recognize them in case they show up again. Come on.”
Even against his better judgment, Luke couldn’t argue with her logic. “All right,” he said. “But stay close behind me. There’s no way to know who’s out there in the dark, or what they want, or whether they have a gun.” He moved ahead of her. “I mean it. Don’t do anything stupid.”
* * *
Erin slipped between the rails and followed Luke up the slight slope, toward the fence at the rear of the paddock. He’d turned the flashlight off. The thin crescent moon lent enough light for them to see their way.
Don’t do anything stupid. His words rankled her, as if he viewed her as a brainless little doll. Maybe she ought to tell him what had happened to her six years ago, when Stella Rawlins, the woman who’d owned the Blue Coyote and run a smuggling ring on the side, had kidnapped her, knocked her out with chloroform, and headed for Mexico with her in the trunk. Not only had Erin managed to get loose, but when her father caught up with them, she’d managed to stop Stella from killing him.
Stella was in prison now, serving a life sentence for kidnapping Erin and murdering a county prosecutor. Erin’s testimony at her trial had been the key to putting her away.
Don’t do anything stupid.
Luke Maddox would never have said that if he’d known whom he was dealing with.
They had reached the mesquite clump where Luke had startled the quail earlier. The mares and foals had settled back into their grazing, a sign that the intruder had probably left. But there was no way to be sure.
“Get down and stay put,” Luke whispered. “I want to check around before we look for tracks.”
Keeping low, he covered the last few yards to the barbed wire fence that bordered the west side of the paddock. Hunkered in the shadow of the mesquite, Erin watched as he picked up a rock from the ground and flung it over the fence. It crashed into the heavy underbrush beyond, startling an owl into flight. The mares raised their heads and pricked their ears. When nothing happened they lowered their heads to graze again. If an intruder were close by, they would be nervous and alert.
Without waiting for a signal from Luke, Erin made her way up to where he crouched by the fence, directing the beam of his flashlight low on the other side. “There,” he said. “Take a look.”
Clumps of yellow grass and ragweed grew outside the fence line, with taller scrub farther back. In the circle of light, Erin could see where the dry vegetation had been recently crushed. Here and there were spots of open ground where the dust lay fine as talcum powder. On one of these, the beam of light found one perfect track—the print of a cowboy boot with an underslung heel and long, pointed toe, a style known as a cockroach kicker.
Erin studied the print, trying to brand the image in her memory. Had she ever seen it before? Surely if she had, she’d remember.
“Does anybody you know wear boots like that?” Luke asked her.
“Not that I’ve noticed. And nobody who works on the Rimrock matches the description of the person you saw.”
“Well, until you know who it is and what they want, be careful. Don’t be alone out here. And you may want to put a guard on the stock, in case your visitor is a thief. For now, you need to get back to the house before your father sends out a search party. Come on.”
He walked slightly ahead of her, using his flashlight on the uneven ground. “Are you going to tell your father?” he asked.
“Not yet. He’s got enough worries on his mind. I may tell Sky if I need to. But I hope you’ll keep this quiet for now. We don’t need a bunch of crazy rumors flying around the ranch.”
“Fine with me.” He paused suddenly, turning back to face the way they’d come. “Listen,” he whispered. “Tell me what you hear.”
Erin stood perfectly still, ears straining to hear beyond the buzz of night-flying insects and the rustle of wind in the scrub. It took a moment, but when she caught the sound, a shiver passed through her body.
It was the faint but unmistakable rumble of a departing motorcycle.
CHAPTER SIX
ERIN LISTENED AS THE MOTORCYCLE’S DISTANT THRUM FADED INTO silence. “Whoever that was, I hope they’re gone for good.”
Luke listened a few seconds longer, then nodded. “With luck, we scared them off. Come on, you need to get back to the house before your boyfriend gets word that you’ve been sneaking around in the dark with the hired help.”
She spun around to face him. “Stop it! What is it with you, Luke Maddox? This isn’t the eighteen hundreds. I’m nineteen years old, a grown woman and, technically, your boss. Why do you have to be so damned”—she searched for the right word—“so damned proper?”
His expression was unreadable in the dark. But Erin sensed that she might have pushed him too far. Taking a half step backward, she stumbled into a low spot on the uneven ground. The slight drop threw her off-balance. Too late to save herself, she went down hard on her rump.
Not hurt but stunned, she glared up at Luke. “Go ahead and laugh,” she muttered.
“I wouldn’t dare.”
She took the hand he offered, feeling its rock-hard power as he pulled her up. He held on long enough to help her regain her balance, then let her go. “Are you all right?” he asked.
Standing, she felt her left ankle twinge when she put weight on it, but that would pass. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “Let’s go.”
She moved out ahead of him, but her ankle was still hurting. She forced herself to look calm, trying not to show the pain that shot up her leg with each step. But she couldn’t hide her injury from Luke. After a moment, he stopped her. “Don’t be a martyr,” he said. “Here. Just until we get out of this pasture.”
In a single, deft move, he swept her off her feet, lifting her as if she were no heavier than a child. His chest was a solid wall of muscle, his breathing effortless. This was a man who worked with heavy iron tools, hammering steel shoes into shape and nailing them onto the hooves of massive animals that could easily crush him. Carrying a woman would be nothing for him.
As he strode down the slope toward the east fence, he seemed unaffected by her closeness. But where her head rested against his thin shirt, she could hear the galloping cadence of his heart. The awareness of his powerful body, its heat, its pungent, masculine aroma, flowed through her like a current of delicious little sparks. When she breathed, she inhaled him into her body, a sensation that she found strangely intoxicating.
Was he aware of what she was feeling? He said nothing, but Erin was aware of a building tension in him, as if he could hardly wait to put her down.
They were two-thirds of the way to the fence when he cleared his throat and spoke into the stillness.
“About that question you asked,” he said.
“What question?” She’d all but forgotten.
“The one about my being so proper, as you put it. I’d like to answer it.”
She waited, her silence implying consent.
“Proper isn’t the word I’d use,” he said. “It’s more like being cautious, like an animal that’s been burned is cautious of fire. I’m older than you are, and I’ve been around long enough to know that work and women don’t mix. A couple of years ago I lost a good job and almost got myself arrested because a rancher’s sixteen-year-old
daughter wanted to get too friendly. After I told her to go play with her dolls, she told her dad some lies about me. I managed to talk my way out of her accusations, but it made me more cautious than ever. If a client thinks I’m coming on to his daughter, or, God forbid, his wife, I may do an excellent job with the horses, but I’ll never work for him or his friends again.”
“I hear you,” Erin said. “But I’m not just my father’s daughter. The horses on the Rimrock are my responsibility. I’m your client. Tomorrow I’ll be working as your boss. If I don’t want to bother with a chaperone, that’s my decision. But I can promise you one thing—whatever takes place between you and me will be strictly business. Understand?”
“Got it.” They had reached the fence. Lifting her over, he set her down on the other side, then ducked through the rails. When she put weight on her ankle, it hurt, but it felt better than earlier. A minor sprain, Erin decided. She’d be all right.
The security light had turned off. It came on again as a white Camry swung into the yard. That would be Beau’s family, returning from their pizza night in town.
“I can make it to the house,” Erin said. “No need to help me.”
“You’re sure? It’s a long way to walk when you’re hurting,” Luke said. “I can at least offer you an arm.”
“But then we’d have to explain ourselves, wouldn’t we?” Erin said. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”
Steeling herself against the pain, Erin set out toward the house. She didn’t look back, but her instincts told her that Luke was watching, and that he wouldn’t turn and go until she’d reached the safety of the porch. She didn’t know the man well, but she was already sure of that much.
Beau had parked the car below the porch and was helping his wife and daughter up the steps. For a moment Erin weighed the idea of telling Beau about the mysterious intruder and the boot print she’d seen. Beau was a lawman. He might be able to give her some advice. But no, she decided. Her story would involve too much explaining. And the last thing she wanted to do was lay more worry on her father’s overburdened shoulders. For now, she would keep the incident between herself and Luke.