Killer Cowboy (Cowboys of Holiday Ranch)

by Carla Cassidy

  He looked at her as if she’d grown a second head. “Cassie, those few minutes we spent shooting in no way made me comfortable about your ability to use a gun. Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  “I have the feeling that lately you’d be glad to be rid of me,” she confessed. “You have to know things have gotten kind of weird between us, Dillon.”

  “Yeah, they have,” he agreed. He leaned back in the chair and swiped a hand down his jaw. His gaze held hers for several long moments. “I’ll tell you what the problem is. We both know we’re wrong for each other. You have some childhood dream to pursue and there’s no way I want to be the man to steal that dream from you. I just hope you find whatever it is you need to find back in New York.”

  “And I hope you find the kind of woman you want, although I have my doubts.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

  She was suddenly irritated with him. “Your childhood dream of the little woman waiting breathlessly for you to come home from work while filling the kitchen with the scents of cookies baking is more than a little antiquated.”

  “We both know you’ll never be that woman,” he replied curtly.

  “I don’t want to be that woman,” she said tersely. “Someday I want to be a wife and mother, but I also want to be more than that.”

  “Right, you want to be famous. It isn’t enough for you just to be Cassie. You are still looking to somehow get acceptance from your parents. Face it, Cassie, you’re clinging to some pretty heavy baggage in your own life. The only person you really have to please is yourself.”

  “I was never good enough just being me,” she retorted.

  “So, you think your happiness is in some big city trying to be somebody important.” His tone had become irritable, as well.

  “I don’t know where my happiness is,” she replied. In the back of her mind she was wondering how this crazy, slightly painful conversation was going to end.

  Dillon got out of his chair. “That’s the real problem with you, Cassie. You don’t realize that your happiness comes from inside you.” The ring of his cell phone interrupted them. “Chief Bowie,” he said into the phone.

  He listened and frowned. “I’ll be right there.” He hung up the phone. “I’ve got to go,” he said to her.

  “What’s happened?” she asked.

  “There’s been a wreck...apparently a bad one and Leroy was involved. He’s been taken to the emergency room at the hospital and he’s asking for me.”

  “Oh, no.” She quickly rose from the sofa. The conversation they’d just had faded from her mind as she saw the deep concern on Dillon’s face. She knew Leroy had been like a second father to him when he’d been growing up.

  She followed Dillon into the kitchen where he grabbed his coat off a hook next to the back door and shrugged it on. He then disarmed the alarm and turned back to her. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “You take all the time you need and I’ll say a prayer for Leroy.”

  His gaze burned into hers and he reached up and dragged a finger down her cheek. “You know why things have gotten so weird between us? It’s because I’ve fallen in love with you, Cassie. And I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit.” Without waiting for any reply, he flew out the door and into the darkness of the night.

  She reset the alarm and then moved to the window to watch his car drive out of sight. He loved her. Her heart sang and a fluttering warmth enveloped her. He loved her!

  The song in her heart only lasted for a single refrain and then clunked to a discordant ending. But he’d also said she wasn’t the kind of woman he wanted in his life. He’d told her that they were all wrong for each other. He’d said that he loved her and he didn’t like it.

  No matter how much she loved him she couldn’t compromise who she was at her core to be the little lady he wanted in his life. Who knew, maybe he could eventually find that kind of woman, but it would never be her.

  She left the kitchen and went up the stairs. Maybe it was a good time to finally clean out that shelf in her closet, and while she worked she needed to do some soul-searching to come to a real decision about whether she wanted to throw Dillon’s love and Bitterroot to the wind and go back to the city, or stay here and hope that somehow, someway, Dillon would see that they might be very right for each other.

  Chapter 14

  Dillon drove fast, with his lights swirling and his siren blaring as he headed back into town. He couldn’t believe he’d told Cassie he was in love with her. But he refused to think about that now. He had to get to the hospital and check on Leroy.

  Brenda hadn’t had any real details about the accident, so he had no idea how serious Leroy’s injuries might be. He also didn’t know how or where the accident had occurred. All he did know was that he was worried sick about Leroy.

  He slowed as he approached the Bitterroot Hospital. Although small, the hospital boasted exceptional doctors and updated equipment, but if Leroy’s injuries were bad enough he’d have to be transported to one of the bigger hospitals in Oklahoma City.

  The first person he saw when he entered the emergency waiting room was Deputy Ben Taylor. “Ben, how’s Leroy?”

  “He’s pretty banged up. He’s in X-ray right now, but before they took him back he was asking for you.”

  “How and where did this happen?” The two men walked over to the dark green plastic chairs and sat side by side.

  “On Main Street at the light just north of the Watering Hole. Ace Sanders ran the light and smashed right into the side of Leroy’s truck. I arrested Ace on scene and he was taken to the jail.”

  “Drunk?” Dillon asked.

  “As a skunk,” Ben replied. “But the wreck sobered him up quick enough and now he’s beside himself worrying about Leroy.”

  “What in the hell was Leroy doing driving around after dark on a Saturday night?”

  “He told me Boomer needed some hot dogs.”

  Dillon leaned back in the chair and released a deep sigh. Ace Sanders was one of Humes’s men, and Dillon knew Raymond would have him bailed out first thing Monday morning. He just hoped Leroy fared as well.

  “Does Ace have insurance?” he asked.

  “Yes, and it’s a good thing. Leroy’s truck was crushed in. Thank God it was on the passenger side, but he wasn’t wearing his seat belt so he got tossed around pretty good. The truck is still drivable. Mike drove it here so that Leroy would have a way to get home when they release him.”

  Dillon sighed again, this time in frustration. “I never understand why people don’t wear their damned seat belts when it’s proven they save lives. I just hope he isn’t badly hurt. What are they X-raying?”

  “His ribs and his skull. He banged his head against the side window and he was complaining of some chest pain.”

  The two men fell silent as the minutes ticked by. As Dillon waited to see Leroy, his thoughts returned to Cassie. Were his ideas about a future wife antiquated? Was it possible he was clinging to an old dream that had no real place in the world today?

  He was probably all kinds of a fool to have allowed those words of love to slip out of his mouth. Now things would really be awkward between them.

  Still, there was no way in hell he was leaving her at that ranch alone with only a security system and a gun she wasn’t proficient with standing between her and a killer.

  The murderer had to be getting desperate. He’d made two failed attempts in a relatively short period of time. His frustration level had to be off the charts. And hopefully that would make him make a mistake.

  “What’s taking so long?” Dillon asked, once again worried about Leroy.

  “You should know time always moves slowly in the emergency room,” Ben said.

  Finally, the doors to the ER opened and Dr. Eric Washington walked over to where Dillon and Ben sat. The two quickly got to their feet.

  “How is he?” Dillon asked.

  “He’s been better, but I don’t see anything on th
e X-rays to cause any real concern. He’s going to feel like he’s been run over by a truck for a few days, and he has some cuts and contusions, but he’s going to survive.”

  “Thank God,” Dillon replied as a wave of huge relief swept through him. Leroy might drive him a little crazy with his reports of aliens, but the old man had a special place in Dillon’s heart.

  “Despite his protests I’m going to keep him overnight for observation, and we’ll see about letting him go sometime later tomorrow afternoon. But in the meantime he’s been asking for you,” Eric said to Dillon.

  “I’ll just head back out. You know how it is on Saturday nights...plenty of fools on the road,” Ben said.

  “Thanks, Ben,” Dillon replied. “I appreciate you being here with Leroy.”

  Ben nodded and left. Dillon then followed Eric through the ER doors. He heard Leroy before he saw him. “I can’t stay here overnight. You’ve got to let me out of here. I got hot dogs to get home to Boomer,” Leroy exclaimed loudly. “I can’t stay here.”

  Dillon opened the curtain Eric gestured to and saw Leroy in the bed and Vanessa Duncan taking his blood pressure. Leroy sported a huge bruise on the side of his face. “Don’t get yourself all worked up, Mr. Atkinson,” Vanessa said. “It isn’t good for you.”

  “Listen to Vanessa and behave yourself,” Dillon said.

  “Dillon, I’m glad you’re here.” Leroy sat up in the bed as Vanessa removed the blood pressure cuff.

  “I’ll just leave you two alone,” Vanessa said and left the room, trailing the scent of a spicy perfume behind her.

  “You know I’m about to yell at you,” Dillon said.

  Leroy looked at him in surprise. “For what? I didn’t do anything wrong. That darned Ace Sanders ran the red light and crashed right into me.”

  “And where was your seat belt? If you’d had it on maybe you wouldn’t have that big bruise on the side of your face and wouldn’t be feeling like crap right now. I should give you a damned ticket for not wearing it.”

  Leroy appeared chagrined. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll have it strangling me from now on whenever I drive. But that’s not what I’m worried about now. I’m worried about Boomer. He’s used to getting a hot dog every night before I go to bed. If they’re going to keep me here overnight then Boomer is going to be so upset. Unless...”

  “Unless what?” Dillon asked warily.

  “Maybe you could get the hot dogs out of my truck and swing by my place and make sure he has enough water and he gets his treat before bedtime. Please, Dillon. You know that old dog is all I got.”

  Dillon doubted that Boomer would have a breakdown if he didn’t get a hot dog tonight, but he feared Leroy might go off the deep end if he denied this request.

  “Okay, I’ll go take care of Boomer and you stay here and take care of yourself,” Dillon replied.

  Leroy shot him a look of relief. “You always were a good boy, Dillon. And you’ve grown up to be everything all of us wanted you to be.”

  An unexpected well of emotion rose up in Dillon’s chest. “You and Loretta were always good to me, Leroy. Don’t you worry about Boomer. I’ll see that he gets his hot dog tonight and hopefully you’ll be out of here and back at home sometime tomorrow. Now, don’t give everyone a hard time here, and I’ll check in with you tomorrow, okay?”

  Minutes later Dillon strode across the parking lot to Leroy’s truck. His stomach clenched as he saw the damage on the passenger side. Leroy had been very lucky not to have sustained more serious injuries.

  He found the hot dogs in a shopping bag on the passenger floor and then headed out to Leroy’s place. His thoughts were instantly filled with Cassie. He called her.

  She answered on the second ring, her voice half breathless. “Everything okay there?” he asked with immediate concern.

  “It’s fine,” she assured him. “I’m in the middle of cleaning out the shelf in my closet. I now have an empty shelf and tons of junk in the middle of my bedroom floor. How’s Leroy doing?”

  “A little battered and bruised, but he’ll be okay.”

  “That’s good to hear. I’m sure you’re relieved.”

  “I am,” he admitted. “When I got to the hospital I was assuming the worst.”

  He explained to her that he was on his way to Leroy’s house to see about the dog. “It shouldn’t be too long and then I’ll be back to your place.”

  “Okay, and then I think we need to have a talk,” she replied. There was nothing in her tone to indicate what was going on in her head. Was she going to insist he move out? Was she going to tell him she’d decided to sell out?

  “All right,” he replied. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

  He ended the call and his stomach churned with uncertainty. It was at that moment he realized he wanted Cassie to be the woman in his future. The dream he’d once had for himself was nothing but a stupid fantasy and it was time to let it go and embrace the woman who already owned his heart.

  There was just one small problem. He’d told her he loved her and now the ball was in her court, and he had no idea if he’d be enough for her.

  * * *

  Cassie eyed the mess on her floor and was almost sorry she’d begun the project to start with. Blankets, boxes of shoes and old framed pictures battled for space on the floor with faded artificial flowers, spare bed pillows and sundry other items.

  She hadn’t really looked at anything as she’d taken it off the shelf, but she intended to weed through the items and put them away in a more orderly fashion.

  Of course it didn’t help that she kept getting distracted by Dillon’s words right before he’d left the house. I’ve fallen in love with you, Cassie. And I don’t like it.

  Over and over again the words played in her mind, filling her first with a sweet euphoria and then a wave of utter confusion. She was an artist. Artists visualized things, but there was no way she could visualize what her future held. If he didn’t like being in love with her and clung to some fantasy of the perfect woman for him, then there was no happy ending for her here with him.

  But she’d also begun to understand that maybe New York City didn’t hold her happy ending, either. She had spent her whole life trying to fill a hole that had been left there by her parents. But now she recognized that nothing she would do in her life would magically change the cold, distant people who had raised her.

  She walked into the bathroom with a clean nightgown and stared for a moment into the mirror above the sink. “You will never be a famous artist,” she said to her reflection.

  Funny, it didn’t hurt to believe those words. In fact, if she was honest with herself she’d admit that she’d known that particular truth for a very long time. Otherwise she would have never left New York when she’d inherited the ranch. She would have had the lawyer take care of selling it.

  Dillon was right. If she was going to heal that hole inside her, it wasn’t by living in a specific place or pleasing a specific person. She needed to find the worth and love within herself.

  She took off her clothes and pulled on the nightgown. She couldn’t wait until Dillon got home so they could talk, so she could tell him she was in love with him, too. She had no idea if him knowing that she loved him would change anything, but she had to share with him what was in her heart.

  In the meantime she had a mess to clean up. She grabbed the two spare bed pillows and walked into the hallway. She quickly placed two fresh pillowcases on them and then carried them into the room where Dillon stayed to put them on the empty shelf in that closet.

  Once that was done, she stood in the room and just breathed in the scent of him. She’d been hot for him for months, but the truth was, while she was still intensely drawn to him physically, her love for him was so much more than that.

  He’d captivated her with his laughter, and challenged her with his mind. The fact that he was going to a house to feed a dog a hot dog only shone the light on what a good and kind man he was.

  He was
everything she’d never really imagined. She’d never known she was capable of loving a man as much as she loved Dillon.

  She left the bedroom and returned to the mess on her floor. The artificial flowers found a new home in the bottom of a trash bag, as did several broken umbrellas. Her aunt Cass had been something of a pack rat and apparently had a reluctance to throw things away even after they’d outlived their usefulness.

  Finally she sank down on the floor to address all of the old framed photos she’d taken off the wall when she’d first arrived months before. She’d replaced them with some of her cityscape paintings on the wall. They were the paintings that had never sold because she was a good artist, but she’d never be a great artist.

  This little epiphany didn’t break her heart; she knew it was simply the truth. Dillon was right. She’d been holding on to a little girl’s dream of being famous and now it was time to let that go and just be Cassie.

  The first photo she picked up was one of her aunt Cass and uncle Hank. They were locked in an embrace and happiness shone from both of their faces. She touched the face of the woman who had left her the ranch.

  From what everyone had told her, Cass had been a tough but caring woman. She had to have been strong to take on twelve young runaways who had difficult backgrounds and basically raise them into good men.

  Cassie only hoped one day she could be as strong and as loving as her aunt Cass had been.

  She set the picture aside and grabbed another one. This one was of her aunt on horseback with a bullwhip in her hand. Cass’s acumen with the bullwhip was legendary. Cassie had heard her aunt could take the eye out of a snake with one flick of that whip.

  The next picture made her instantly smile. Twelve teenagers lined up like a most-wanted photo from the Old West. Cowboy hats sat on their heads and they were clad in T-shirts and jeans. They all looked achingly young, but it was easy to identify Sawyer in the group. He stood taller than most of the men, with his slightly curly, coppery hair.

  It was also easy to pick out Clay, with his blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. One by one she put young faces with names. They were all there, all of the men who had worked for her aunt and who now worked for her. Maybe she should rehang these pictures on the wall and take down her paintings. These men and this place were now in her heart and soul.