Homicide at Whiskey Gulch

by Elle James

  Lily turned a split second after Trace did.

  His fingers tightened around her wrist.

  Lily felt the blood drain from her face when she spied the man following Rosalynn.

  “Most of you know Matt Hennessey,” Rosalynn started, “am I right?”

  “Yes. The question is, what the hell is he doing here?” Trace demanded.

  Mrs. Travis frowned at Trace and smiled up at Matt. “He’s agreed to help us bring in the hay and whatever else needs to be done. At least until we can hire full-time staff to do the work.”

  “We don’t need help,” Trace bit out. “Especially from him.”

  “Now, Trace, Matt is our guest,” Rosalynn said.

  “He doesn’t belong here,” Trace said.

  His mother lifted her chin and met his stare with one of her own. “You said it yourself, it’s my home and I will decide who stays and who goes.”

  Lily could almost hear the sound of Trace’s teeth grinding together. The tension in the air was so tightly strung, Lily could easily feel it plucking at her nerves.

  Matt stood with a half smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “Told you it wasn’t a good idea.” He turned. “I’ll just be leaving.”

  Mrs. Travis grabbed his arm, her chin lifting, her mouth pressing into a thin line. “This is still my house, and I’ll invite whoever I want to the dinner table. And I’ll hire whoever I want to help bring in the hay. Matt has so graciously offered to take time away from his own business to help us get the hay in before it rains. I don’t expect you to smile, but you will say thank you. No one else in town has offered to help. The animals depend on us to provide feed throughout the winter. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a pasta salad in the refrigerator.” She jerked her head toward the table. “Please, Matt, have a seat. Dinner is served.”

  His half smile became a grin. “Thank you, ma’am. I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in a while.”

  “Well, you’ll have one tonight. My son grilled the steaks and potatoes. You know Trace and Lily.” She reached into the refrigerator for a large bowl and straightened. “Irish is the new ranch hand. He’s a friend of Trace’s from the military.”

  Irish held out his hand. “Joseph Monahan, but you can call me Irish. I’m fresh off active duty.”

  Matt shook Irish’s hand. “Army?”

  Irish nodded. “Ten years.”

  Matt tipped his head. “I did seven years in the Marine Corps.”

  “Deploy?”

  Matt’s lips thinned. “A number of times. Would have stayed, but a bullet ruined my knee. Uncle Sam kindly asked me to retire.”

  “Matt owns an engine repair shop in town.” Mrs. Travis set a pasta salad on the table. “We’ll only have him until the hay is harvested and stored.”

  “Thank you, Matt,” Lily said softly, her pulse hammering so hard in her veins she could hear it thumping in her ears. She couldn’t think of a worse situation.

  How was she going to endure sitting at the table with the man she loved and the one he thought she’d ditched him for?

  She supposed karma had a large part in the circumstances. Some lies seemed to have a life of their own.

  Chapter Six

  Trace sat at the opposite end of the table from his mother with a clear view of the man he’d hated for eleven years sitting as pretty as he pleased across the table from the woman he’d loved all those years ago.

  He guessed he deserved it for holding on to those feelings for so long, letting them define his life and relationships. If he’d let go long ago, he might have found someone else to love even more than his high school sweetheart. Instead, his love hadn’t faded but morphed into a wound that festered and fed darkness into his soul.

  “I ran into Matt today at the grocery store. When he offered to help me in any way he could, I don’t think he expected me to take him up on his offer.” Trace’s mother smiled as she scooped pasta salad onto her plate and passed the bowl to the left.

  Trace stabbed a steak with his fork and dropped it onto his plate. What he didn’t understand was how easily Lily sat across from Matt without glaring at him or kicking him beneath the table. He would have expected her to be a little less generous toward the man who’d promised to marry her and then dumped her. Was the man insane? Trace would have held on to her with everything in his power.

  Then why hadn’t he tried to change her mind?

  He had been so hurt, he’d buried himself in his new life in the army, working harder than anyone. The more he pushed, the less time he had to mourn the loss of Lily’s love. He’d pushed so hard and so fast, he’d caught the attention of his drill sergeant, who recommended him for further training that eventually led him to the army rangers and selection into the elite Delta Force.

  Irish took a steak off the platter and passed it to Lily.

  “I’d heard the rumors around town that you were having trouble keeping help after Mr. Travis’s death.” Matt peeled the foil off a baked potato and cut it down the middle. “He was a good man. He helped me get a start with my shop when the banks wouldn’t loan me the money to buy the building.”

  Trace had been at loggerheads with his father for so many years, he hadn’t known his father had helped other people in the community from time to time. But Hennessey? What a cruel trick of fate that his father had helped the one man who’d taken the only woman his son had ever loved away from him.

  Now his mother was fawning over the guy in front of him. Yeah, fate was cruel.

  “I still owe half of what he loaned to me a year ago,” Matt said. “I promise to pay it off as soon as I can.”

  “I’m not worried about the money,” his mother said. “I know you’re good for it.”

  Trace would have to pull his mother aside and warn her about being too nice. People would take advantage of her, thinking she was a pushover.

  “We need to start cutting hay tomorrow afternoon,” his mother said with a smile.

  “Why not in the morning first thing?” Trace asked.

  His mother looked down at her plate, her smile fading. “We have a meeting at the attorney’s office to go over your father’s will.” She glanced up, her gaze going to Lily and Matt. “The attorney asked that Lily and Matt be present for the reading.”

  Trace felt anger rise up inside him. “Why? I thought Dad would leave everything to you.”

  His mother set her fork beside her plate and folded her hands in her lap. “Don’t worry. He took care of me. But he wanted to be certain others were taken care of as well, if he should pass before I did.”

  “I don’t understand,” Trace said. “You were his wife. You have every right to all of his estate.”

  “Just so you all know, I was with him when he put the provisions into the will. I signed it as well. I’m aware of everything the lawyer is going to say tomorrow.”

  “Then why don’t you tell us now?” Trace demanded.

  “I think you need to hear what the attorney has to say first, then I’ll tell you why your father and I did what we did.” She lifted her fork.

  When Trace opened his mouth, his mother gave him that look that meant the discussion was over.

  He bit down hard on his tongue to keep from shouting.

  Not only had the man stolen his girl, but Matt had also wormed his way into his father’s good graces and somehow stolen money from his family. Trace didn’t want his father’s money, but he sure as hell didn’t want Matt Hennessey to have a single dime.

  Lily reached out to touch Trace’s mother’s hand.

  His mother glanced up at her and gave her a watery smile.

  That exchange of silent communication reminded Trace that his mother had just lost the man she’d centered her life around. They’d been married for more than thirty-five years. Most of their lives had been spent together.

  His anger was
uncalled for in the wake of her loss.

  Despite his differences with his father, he’d loved the man. His father had been the one who’d taught him the important things in life. Like how to ride a horse, how to throw a baseball and football, and how to love a woman.

  James Travis had been a force to be reckoned with. His concern for his son came from the heart. He’d wanted the best for his son. That didn’t include marrying a woman whose parents were a prostitute and a thief. He’d probably thought he was giving Trace good advice. What he didn’t know was that Trace wasn’t a kid anymore. He could make his own decisions, and he resented his father’s interference in making those decisions. His father hadn’t understood that Trace needed to be the master of his own destiny, to make his own mistakes and follow his heart where it led.

  Based on the way things had turned out, his father might have been half right. Trace had decided he wanted Lily. Lily had made the decision for him that he wouldn’t have her. His father might have seen that coming and tried to spare him the heartache.

  That wouldn’t have changed Trace’s mind about joining the army. He’d have done it anyway. He was glad he had. For the first time in his life, he was his own person. Not the son of the richest man in the county. And he’d done well for himself. If not financially, then for his own state of mind.

  Irish broke the silence with “What’s in this pasta salad, Mrs. Travis? It’s really good.”

  Trace’s mother smiled, the lines of tension easing from her face. Soon, Irish had the others laughing over stories about his antics as a young recruit going through basic training.

  Before long, the meal was over. The steak Trace had eaten sat like a rock in the pit of his belly. What had his father left in his will for Matt and Lily? And why them? Did he know they were once a couple? That they were responsible for breaking his son’s heart?

  Trace carried his plate to the sink.

  “I’ll pull KP,” Irish said.

  “No, I’ve got this,” his mother said.

  “Seriously, you’ve been working as hard as anyone,” Irish said. “You need to relax and go watch that sunset I can see through the window.”

  Trace’s mother filled the sink with soapy water. “If we all pitch in, we can get it done faster and then we can all see that sunset.” She handed Irish a dry dish towel. “I’ll wash, you dry, Lily and Trace can put the dishes away, and Matt can open a bottle of wine and pour me a glass.”

  With tasks assigned, they worked together to get the dishes done in record time.

  Once they had everything put away, they adjourned to the porch to watch the brilliant orange-and-mauve-painted sky as the sun sank below the horizon.

  Matt leaned against the porch rail, staring out at the last rays as they disappeared. “This place is amazing. Don’t let anyone take it away from you.”

  “We have no intention of letting that happen,” his mother said. “It’s been in the Travis family for more than a hundred years. But it’s not the life everyone would choose.”

  Trace tensed. He knew she was talking about him. Before he left for the army, one of his last arguments with his father had been over the ranch and who would inherit it. He’d told his father that he didn’t care who he left the ranch to. But, good Lord, not Matt Hennessey.

  * * *

  LILY SAT ON the porch swing beside Irish, talking quietly about life in the little Texas town of Whiskey Gulch. Irish asked questions and she answered but didn’t go into the details of how she’d been ostracized by most of her peers growing up because of who her parents were. She didn’t tell him that she’d been bullied and picked on by the mean girls and propositioned by just about every male in the county who thought she was like her mother.

  Trace had been one of a handful of people who hadn’t been mean to her. He’d seen her for who she was, not who her parents were.

  When Irish excused himself and went inside, Trace gathered the empty beer bottles and carried them into the house.

  Lily stood and stretched. “I’m going to check on the barn cat. I think she’s expecting to drop a litter of kittens soon. I want to make sure she’s okay. I might need to relocate the kittens if she’s had them up in the loft, since we’ll be filling that space soon.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Rosalynn said.

  “No need,” Lily said. “I’ll only be a minute. I’m sure she’s fine.”

  “We’ll need to catch her and get her and all the kittens spayed or neutered before we end up with a couple dozen cats around here. But that’ll be after the kittens are weaned.” Rosalynn settled back in her rocking chair. “If you’re sure you don’t need me, I’ll just sit here and listen to the cicadas sing. James loved the sound. I always thought they were loud.” She smiled. “I miss him.”

  Lily touched her shoulder. “I miss him, too.”

  Rosalynn covered her hand on her shoulder. “Thank you for being here for me, Lily. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

  “I haven’t done anything anyone else wouldn’t have. I’m glad I was here for you.” She leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Rosalynn’s head. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Lily left the porch and strolled out to the barn. After the tension of dinner and being in the same space as Trace and Matt for an extended period of time, she needed to get away from the house, from Trace and from her own thoughts.

  The mama cat would do fine birthing her kittens. She didn’t need Lily to help her along, but it had been a good excuse for her to step away for a few minutes by herself.

  Lily entered the barn and flipped the switch on the wall. The lights blinked on, giving the interior a soft yellow glow.

  Several soft whinnies greeted her.

  Lily chuckled. “You’ve already been fed.”

  Lady stomped her foot impatiently.

  She reached over the stall door and rubbed the mare’s nose. “Your hooves must be feeling better if you’re doing that.”

  A sound near the back of the barn caught her attention. She squinted, trying to see into the shadows. “Patches, is that you, girl?” Lily stepped toward the sound.

  Lady stomped louder, her hoof hitting the wooden wall, making a loud banging sound.

  “It’s okay,” Lily said and reached back to pat the horse.

  A shiver rippled across Lily’s skin. The day had been hot, but with the setting of the sun, the warmth disappeared, and the night had cooled at least fifteen degrees.

  Rubbing her arms, Lily searched the corners and shadows for the mama cat.

  The animal wasn’t behind the feed bins or nestled in the stacks of empty feed sacks. The tack room door was kept closed to keep her out. Had someone inadvertently locked her inside?

  Lily pushed the door to the tack room open and peered inside. “Patches?” she called out. When she started to turn around, she caught movement in her peripheral vision. Before she could duck or move out of the way, something dark swung toward her and hit her on the side of her head, knocking her to the ground.

  She lay stunned, her vision blurred, her head spinning and pain knifing through her temple. How long she lay there, she didn’t know until someone stepped into the doorway. With the yellow lighting behind him, he appeared a dark, shadowy figure.

  Lily whimpered and tried to scramble away from him. “Don’t,” she said and raised her hand to shield her face.

  “Lily?” a voice said as if from a distance. Then the figure squatted down beside her and she could see his familiar face.

  Trace.

  When he reached for her, she fell into his arms.

  “It’s okay,” he murmured. “It’s okay.” He smoothed his hand over her hair.

  For a moment, she let him hold her. “No.” She pushed away from him, frantically trying to get around him to see what was on the other side of his hulking body.

  “What?�
�� Trace asked.

  “He might get you.” Lily shook her head, trying to clear the fog. It hurt, but she couldn’t be deterred.

  “Who might?” Trace rose and helped her to her feet. “What are you talking about?”

  “He might hit you.” She pushed him to the side and stood in front of him.

  “He who?” Trace gripped her arm. “Lily, why were you lying on the floor?”

  “Someone hit me,” she said.

  Immediately, Trace shoved her into the tack room. “Stay here and don’t unlock the door until I tell you to. Promise?”

  Fear gripped her. Not for herself, but for Trace. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to find whoever is in the barn.” He closed the door. “Lock it,” he said from the other side.

  “What about you?” she asked, her voice shaking.

  “I’ll be all right.” He paused as if waiting for her to comply. When she didn’t, he said, “Lily, lock the damn door.”

  Lily turned the lock and waited on the other side, her ear pressed to the wood, listening and praying Trace would be okay.

  For what felt like an eternity, she held her breath.

  “You can unlock the door,” Trace’s voice said from the other side. “Whoever was here is gone.”

  Lily twisted the lock, ripped open the door and flung herself into his arms. “Thank God... I was afraid...”

  He held her until she stopped shaking, smoothing the hair at the back of her neck. After a while, he leaned back and stared into her face. “Where did he hit you?”

  She touched her fingertips to her temple and winced. “Here.”

  He tipped her head to the side to allow the light to shine down on her face. “You have a small cut that will likely boast a bruise by morning. Let’s get you into the house and put something on it.”

  Lily stepped out of the tack room, shaking her head. “Who was in here?”

  Trace’s jaw was tight, and his eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. I don’t like it. From now on, no one ventures out at night or any other time alone. We have to have a buddy system.” He cupped her elbow and guided her toward the barn door.