“Yes. Maverick said you were shot while checking the fence for your cattle.”
“Oh, yeah. I have cattle. I mean, I had cattle. Has she sold them, too?”
Gabe shook his head. “I really don’t know about that.”
A memory filtered back, piece by piece. Kyrie rode with Maverick. It was sunny and warm. She closed her eyes as the picture of him straight and tall in the saddle solidified in her mind. Her cowboy. Her man. Now she remembered. “He rode Star. I rode Ebony.”
Gabe’s eyes brightened. “And?”
“And someone cut my fence again. The minute I jumped off Ebony, I got shot and—”
The memory of Maverick’s hands on her hip and the heated look in his eyes jolted her. His hands. Warm and tender. His handsome face. Gentle. Endearing. His body. Protective of her. Wanting her.
Warmth crept up her neck and blossomed across her cheeks. She wanted him, too. His chest. That muscular body. The sizzling kiss. She reined in her very tumultuous thoughts, but too late. She had to be ten shades of crimson. “Where is he? Is he okay?” she asked to get her mind back on track.
“Maverick is one of the best. You already know that, don’t you?”
“I know he’s a good man, but he never said anything about a team. I heard you talking before. Who are Alex and Kelsey?”
“Alex is Maverick’s boss—at least, he was until Maverick up and quit last year. Kelsey is Alex’s wife. You’ll like her. Everyone does.” Gabe accepted the course correction like a gentleman.
Taylor returned with a tray of food while Kyrie proudly strutted beside him with a small plate of fudge. Judging by the smudge on her lips, she had sampled the fare.
“What do you have there?” Gabe asked.
“Chocowat,” she mumbled proudly, and China’s heart ached for the kindness these strangers had shown her niece.
Gabe situated China so she could eat, but holding the soupspoon was beyond her capability. Without asking, he placed a napkin under her chin and fed her. Embarrassment for her weakened condition kicked her pride back into gear, but the soup tasted heavenly. She just wished she could stop crying.
“Hey now,” Gabe chided her softly as he handed her more fresh tissues. “You keep those two spigots turned on and you’ll never get off your IV.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
Taylor smiled from the chair where he bounced Kyrie on his knee. “It’s okay. We both know how you feel. It’s nice to wake up and find out you’re still alive, huh?”
China nodded. Alive was a very good feeling.
Just then the door opened and a man with piercing blue eyes peered cautiously into the room. A pretty woman with long dark hair peeked in beside him.
“This our girl?” he asked quietly.
Gabe nodded. “Miss China Wolf, Alex Stewart. He’s the man responsible for bringing you east.”
“Now hold on.” Alex smiled as he and his wife came to stand at her bedside. “I only supplied the means. You blame Maverick for everything else. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Wolf. How are you feeling?”
“I... I don’t know what to say.” She reached to shake his hand, emotional as hell all over again, damn it.
“No need to say anything. You’ve had a rough couple of days.” Alex covered her hand with both of his, but he didn’t release her. “Sounds like you’ve kept my agent busy out there in Wyoming. He was one of my best before he got it in his head he had to leave.”
“Why’d he do that?”
Alex squeezed her hand very carefully. “Guess he needed to find you.”
Gabe moved the soup bowl just in time. The tears hit her hard. She pulled her hands out of Alex’s grip and covered her face. She needed Maverick. He knew how to hold her together, because yes. She was lost and found and so damned in love with that moody guy who didn’t know he was a cowboy.
“For heck’s sakes, Boss.” Gabe reached around Alex with another hand full of tissues. He stuffed them in China’s fingers. “You had to go and say something like that. Sheesh. We just got her settled down.”
Gabe’s cussing only made it harder for China to compose herself. All she seemed good for was plugging her face with more tissues and sobbing like a baby. Alex still stood over her. Neither Gabe nor Taylor moved. If anything, they’d closed ranks around her bed. She knew it all the way to her soul. She was safe. Kyrie, too.
Alex pulled the brown-haired woman to his side, as if she could somehow rescue him. “This is my wife, Kelsey. Watch out. She’s a crier, too.”
China would’ve giggled if she had the strength. Maverick’s handsome boss seemed panicked. Kelsey lowered to the edge of the bed and snagged one of China’s hands, her pretty eyes already blinking back tears. “I came to keep you company, honey.”
China couldn’t answer, the lump in her throat too big. The stroke was a lie. She wasn’t the old woman Leezel had said. She would be herself again. Everyday she would get stronger, and soon she would go home. She wasn’t ready to die.
No. She was China Wolf, the owner of the Wild Wolf Ranch and the breeder of the finest Percherons in the whole damned country. Not only would she live, but she would kick Leezel’s ass and get her horses back, too. Every damned one of them. And the next time she saw Maverick, she meant to knock him down and kiss the hell out of him.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
He watched his back. X’s and Z’s, too.
There was bound to be trouble once Leezel and Reardon stopped screaming and put their heads together. Nothing happened until dinnertime when, right on schedule, Leezel made another trip to the pasture. The few horses left had already strolled home for the night. Maverick counted them to be sure they were all there. It wasn’t hard. Eight was a pretty lonely number.
“Evening, ma’am.” He tipped his hat to her from where he stood inside the corral with China’s kids. They used to scare him. Now being with them felt more like being at recess with a bunch of rowdy youngsters. But there were so few. He missed Star most of all.
“Can I help you with anything?” he offered.
“You’re too late,” she snapped. “I’m not interested in playing with you anymore. Get the rest of these nags up to the house. Got a buyer.”
“Even the pregnant mares?” Her news sucked the air out of him. Sunshine, Cookie, Minnie, Misty, and Frost were close to foaling. Travel would be hard on them, but hell on any foal dropped inside a moving horse trailer where its mama might not be able to reach it. Where she might step on it.
“Yes. All of ’em.”
“Tonight?” He had to ask. “Someone’s coming tonight?”
“What’d I say? You got a problem with that?”
He ran a hand over Sunshine’s wide belly. What was Alex thinking? Did he even know he had bought pregnant mares that were ready to drop?
“A foal won’t stand a chance in a horse hauler, ma’am.”
“You think I care?”
“No, ma’am.”
That pushed her over the edge. “And what’s that supposed to mean, Mav?” she asked sarcastically. “You don’t think I care or you think I’m mean?”
“I think you used to care,” he said simply.
She closed her mouth. A different look passed over her face, like a glimmer of sunshine trying to break through the dark clouds of a thunderstorm before an F-5 tornado. She almost—almost—resembled China for a split second. It didn’t last. The light faded. She focused on counting again.
“Well, you think wrong. Damn it to hell. Why don’t you just tell me which one of these stupid nags is missing? I figure you already know.”
“Star.” Maverick admitted. “He hasn’t come in from the field yet.”
“Shit,” she cussed under her breath before she looked him square in the eye. “So where is he?”
“Probably still up in the quakies. It’s peaceful there.”
Maverick felt her gaze on him. She might be a poor sister and a worse mother, but Leezel was no dum
my.
“You don’t think maybe someone might a stole him?”
“Don’t rightly know, ma’am.” He strolled from horse to horse, patting a gentle face here and a wide rump there. “Strange things have been going on lately.” Like you and Reardon.
The silence stretched until Leezel grunted. “Ya know what I think, cowboy?”
He shook his head, still avoiding eye contact.
“Dammit! Would you look at me when I’m talking to you?”
He did.
They stood with the metal corral fence between them, still not enough distance as far as he was concerned. Her malevolent gaze raked him up and down. Everything about her emphasized how hard and mean she had become, from the wrinkles around her lips to the black eyeliner smudged around her eyes. She was and would always be a predator.
“I think you know a whole lot more ’n what you’re saying, Mav honey,” she purred. “Well, I got news for you. There’s more ’n one way to skin a cat.”
“One thing’s fer sure.” Z slapped his old hat against his knee. “I was lookin fer a job when I got this one.”
X nodded sagely. The three hired hands made a sorry sight as they watched the final horse trailer pull away. Every last one of China’s beautiful Percheron kids was sold and gone—even the regal stallion, Hex.
Reardon and Leezel had scurried back into the ranch house the moment the dirty deal was done. They hadn’t even waited to seal the transaction with polite handshakes, just snatched the check out of the driver’s hand and hightailed it inside like a couple of rats with a wedge of cheese.
Maverick sighed as the big rigs disappeared. His fears about foals being born during transit vanished the moment he saw the luxury horse haulers that Alex sent. He had the money to make things happen. He spared no expense.
The three spacious trailers came equipped with temperature-controlled stalls and a veterinarian. It made loading this batch of four-legged friends a joy. The sooner they got away from the ranch, the better. Even Hex rode in the luxury of a separate rig, alone but spoiled nonetheless.
“You guys know anyone around here who’s hiring?” Maverick asked his two old friends.
“Nope.” X shoved a hand over his head, completely derailing the comb-over he usually maintained. Long strands of hair hung off his scalp like the ribbons of an unwanted present. All of a sudden he had transformed into a lost kid.
“Ain’t no one gonna hire us.” Z kicked at the gravel road. “Guess I might call my sister over in Colorado. See how she’s doing.”
“She got a ranch?” X asked hopefully. “Any cats?”
Z snorted. “She’s got a poodle. Prissy little lapdog named Rocky. Damned thing passes gas like a warthog.”
“Guess we’s too old.” X seemed rooted to the spot, still watching the dusty road where the trailer had disappeared.
Their plight stabbed Maverick. This was their home. When the Wild Wolf died, everything and everyone would die with it. “You got somewhere to go, X?”
“Nope. I only ever worked for Miss China, but now...” He let the unfinished thought hang.
Maverick looked away, afraid X would start bawling.
“When you leaving?” Z turned, his eyes just as sad as X’s.
“Now.” That wasn’t what Z or X wanted to hear, but he had no reason to stay. His new life waited for him on the East Coast, and he was anxious to join China and Kyrie.
He couldn’t wait for Sheriff Hammer to act on his suspicions anymore. Even though he had talked to Deputy Clark just hours earlier, nothing happened. The sheriff’s office seemed rooted in indecision, as if every shred of evidence had to be indisputable before Leezel and Reardon would be arrested for kidnapping and attempted murder.
The hospital had confirmed she’d been drugged and starved. Hammer had Maverick’s testimony of China’s deplorable condition when he had rescued her. It should’ve been enough.
Maverick flat didn’t understand until Deputy Clark confided that the latest string of grisly murders in his little town had Hammer thinking about retirement. Clark had contacted Hammer’s superior with his concerns. They promised action. Yeah, right. It didn’t matter anymore. Maverick intended to wipe the dust of this town off his ball cap as soon as he could.
“Ya could at least help us drink the rest a that beer I bought.” X interrupted Maverick’s dark thoughts. “Then we could take off in the morning together, kinda like we was the Three Musketeers or something.”
Maverick hesitated.
“I hates to leave it fer them two bloodsuckers.” X nodded toward the house.
Z shrugged. “It don’t matter, Maverick. There ain’t no reason for ya to hang around here no more. Ya did what needed getting’ done. We’s real grateful for that. Come on, X. Let him go. I reckon we got some packin’ to do.”
An old Marine motto nagged at the back of Maverick’s mind, something about never leaving a man behind. He blew out a big sigh and stowed his Oakleys in his shirt pocket. “Any turkey sandwiches left?”
Z’s eyes lit up. “No, but I got some leftover ham. I can slap some sandwiches together faster ’n a horse can swish a hornet off its butt.”
X’s crooked smile spread across his face. “Let me git you a couple long-necked bottles. I been keepin’ ’em cold jes’ for you.”
Maverick grinned and slapped his dusty ball cap on his thigh. Yeah. He was gonna miss these guys.
“You should a seen your face!” X laughed so hard that tears dripped off his jaw.
“’Tweren’t funny.” Z didn’t crack even the hint of a smile as he stared at the campfire. “I honestly thought that little bugger liked me. I thought we was friends. Honest, I did.”
X howled louder, holding his stomach with both hands. “Stop. Stop,” he gasped between peals of laughter. “You’re killing me.”
Maverick leaned back in one of the lawn chairs by the bunkhouse. It was good to be able to eat again. The ham sandwiches were gone, most of the beer, and the story of how gruff old Zeke had nursed a baby critter back to life was funnier than hell.
“Named him Chip,” he muttered pensively, his face awash in the orange glow of the flames. “’Cause he was a chip... munk.”
His deadpan explanation elicited another howl from X. He jumped out of his chair, roaring and barely able to breathe. He circled the fire pit, wiping his eyes and shaking his head.
“Yep,” Z drawled, extra slow and somber, his poker face intact. “That was the day I knew I had ta let ’im go. Hardest thing I ever done.”
“And you had... you had...” X pointed at Z, gasping to spit out the punch line. “You had a guldurned chipmunk stuck ta the end a yer nose!”
Maverick took another hit of his beer and chuckled, but Z did not.
“’Tweren’t funny,” he said as calm as before. “He mighta bit me, but I still miss that little fella once in a while. Yessirree, Bob.”
Maverick downed the last swig. Sitting around the campfire with these two old codgers turned out to be the perfect way to end their friendship. Reardon and Leezel hadn’t made a peep since the trucks and trailers rumbled away. He had finally heard back from Deputy Clark. The man told him to be patient. A warrant was in the works and would most likely be served first thing in the morning. Maverick was welcome to stay and watch, but neither he, X nor Z were under suspicion, so it wasn’t necessary.
First thing in the morning, they’d be gone and this place would be a memory.
Maverick smiled in relief at the knowledge of where China’s horses were. He meant to buy every last one of them back. He had checked with Alex. China’s chances of a full recovery were one hundred percent. Things were looking up.
“What ya smiling about?” Z caught Maverick red-handed.
X turned at that question, his eyes searching Maverick’s face again. “You got something else ya wanna share with us, Mr. Carson?”
What the hell? These guys deserved the truth. Maverick glanced at the darkened house, needing to be sure Reardon couldn’t h
ear him. He doffed his ball cap and dropped it beside his chair. “I know who bought Miss China’s horses.”
“Ya do?” X sounded incredulous. “Who?”
“A guy back East,” Maverick whispered.
“He wouldn’t be the same guy who sent that helicopter to rescue Miss China, would he?”
Maverick nodded. “One and the same.”
“Why’d ya ever quit working fer him?” Z asked bluntly. “Seems ta me you gotta helluva good man for a boss.”
Maverick nodded. “You’re right. I do.”
“That boss a yers reminds me a Miss China.” X settled in his chair again and just like that, the mood turned somber. He eyed Maverick as he popped another beer top. “I got somethin’ for ya ’fore ya leave.”
That raised Maverick’s brows. “You do? Me?”
X ambled into the bunkhouse and returned with an old shoebox. He dropped it at Maverick’s feet with a thunk and resumed his seat.
“When did you have time to go shopping?” Maverick asked as he looked at the box.
X didn’t answer, just rocked back and forth in his chair, so Maverick removed the lid.
“What’d he give ya? A rock?” Z asked teasingly.
It was a rock, all right. An oblong rock the size of a shoe with a single word etched in the middle of it then filled with gold paint. Frend.
“You made this?”
X nodded quickly, his lips pursed tight and his eyes aglow. “Yep. Made it jes’ fer you.”
Z peeked inside the box. “Well, I’ll be. Looks like the one ya made jes’ fer me.”
“Yep. I only ever made two on account a I only ever had two friends. Oh. Never mind that; I only made three. Miss China’s my bestest friend. I made her one, too, a long time ago.”
Maverick brushed a hand over his chin. It might have been the beer or maybe because he had said too many goodbyes in the last week, but a single tear hit the dirt next to the shoebox. “This is damn nice, Xavier,” he said hoarsely.
Without guile, his friend replied, “Yeah. I know.”
Z cleared his throat. “Well, I ain’t got nothing ta give ya, son, and it’s high time fer us old guys to be gittin’ to bed, but it’s been a pleasure.” He reached for Maverick’s hand. “When you git to where yer gittin’, make sure you give Miss China my best, will ya? And give that little Missy Kyrie a hug for me too, ya hear?”
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