by Stacy Finz
“Are you still planning to help me find the gold?”
He sighed “I thought we talked about that.”
“You talked, and I made it clear I wasn’t giving up that easily because I’m not a quitter.” She emphasized “quitter,” clearly hoping to get under his skin and taunt him into assisting her with her ridiculous hunt.
There were a million things he’d rather do than shovel dirt and chase his own tail, but the crazy truth of it was he enjoyed hanging out with Raylene. Besides the fact that she was really great in the sack, she was funny, tough, and stubborn. All qualities that topped the Gabe Moretti list of must-haves. She was also a woman with plenty of issues, and ever since Bianca, he tried to steer clear of those. He hadn’t been too surprised that she’d been a heavy drinker. From her prior actions and some things Logan had said, he’d read between the lines. What he was surprised about was the fact that she’d copped to it and was working through her addiction.
She sat up, pulled the blanket over her, and waited for him to respond.
“Fine, I’ll help you. But today’s the last day, Ray. Tomorrow, I’ve gotta work.” There was always shit to do in the office, and with Logan gone he was pulling the weight of two people.
“Thank you.” She leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips.
“Go take a shower.” If they kept this up, they’d never get out of bed. “Daylight’s wasting.”
She dropped the blanket and walked to the bathroom buck naked. He watched, enjoying the view, then got up, put on his jeans, and carried a pile of bedding to the laundry room. The house had to be seventy degrees, and he turned down the heat before starting breakfast.
The refrigerator was full of leftovers, and he considered warming up some of the mini quiches but decided to make pancakes instead. Growing up in the Moretti household, every kid had one meal specialty. His was pancakes. Even in the teams, he was the flapjack king. He started the coffee, then pulled out his ingredients before heating the griddle. Annie kept her kitchen well-stocked, unlike his.
By the time Raylene came down the stairs, the table was set, the batter ready to go, and the coffeepot filled to the brim. Raylene filled them both a mug and took a long sip, warming her hands on the cup.
“I thought of something while I was in the shower,” she said. “Logan has a security camera on the front of the house. Maybe it got some pictures of the person who broke into my truck.”
“Too grainy to see anything in the dark. I already checked.” He swiped his phone off the counter and showed her the footage.
She watched attentively, pressing the rewind button a few times. “It’s just shadows.”
He took the phone from her and pointed at one of the frames. “See here? There’s two of them.”
She focused on the picture and shook her head. “I don’t see it.”
“Take my word for it. There were two.” He put the phone down and spooned four dollops of batter onto the now hot griddle.
“Did you tell Rhys?”
“He knows.” They were both of the opinion that it was the vagrants Rhys had seen wandering the backcountry. Gabe suspected they were looking for anything of value they could pawn or sell. “Lock your truck from now on, okay?”
“I will, but it’ll be a first in Nugget, I can tell you that.”
“There’s crime everywhere.” He didn’t bother to point out that her father had received a life sentence for killing a man only a few miles away.
His phone pinged with a text and he picked it up to read the message. “Weezer says he’s making good time and should definitely be here by Wednesday, which means we have to find a place for your horse, ASAP. I’ll call Griffin as soon as we finish breakfast.”
He flipped the pancakes over and grabbed a plate. Five minutes later, they were sitting at the table like an old married couple. He’d had plenty of mornings after with the women he slept with. The difference now was he wasn’t in a rush to leave, which wasn’t good.
“These are delicious,” Raylene said around a mouthful. “I haven’t had pancakes in…I don’t know how long.”
“We used to have ’em for dinner some nights when I was back in the teams. We were stuck using that artificial maple crap, but they were still good, even if it was weird to eat breakfast for dinner.”
“Not really,” she said on another bite. “It’s comfort food, and you guys saw a lot of bad stuff in Afghanistan and Iraq. You needed some chicken soup for the soul.”
That was the understatement of the year, but she had an insightful point about the comfort food. He’d never looked at it that way. Back then it was just food, and it was a hell of a lot better than an MRE.
“How about you? You ever have pancakes for dinner?” Somehow, he couldn’t visualize her and Butch sitting around a cozy supper table, laughing over a stack of hotcakes. The one time he’d met Butch, the dude had struck him as a colossal dickweed with anger management issues. He’d said a few choice words about Logan’s mother, and Gabe had to pull his best friend off the moron. Anyone with half a brain could tell that if Logan hit you, you’re weren’t getting up. Ever.
“Not that I can remember,” she said. “Cecilia used to make chilaquiles sometimes for dinner when I was a little girl. They’re traditionally for breakfast.”
“Yeah?” he said as he watched the memory wash over her. Now Cecilia would probably poison those chilaquiles if she got the chance. “So, you and Lucky Rodriguez, huh?”
She looked down at her half-eaten stack of pancakes. “How’s his daughter, Katie? Last I heard she was in remission from the leukemia.”
“She’s good.” He’d only lived in Nugget since summer, yet he knew everyone’s life story. That’s how it was here, and he liked it. In a way, the town was sort of like the Morettis: always bickering but as tight-knit as a sweater. “You’re not going to talk about it, are you?”
“What’s there to talk about? I screwed up with him, like I have with everything else in my life.”
“So there are still feelings there?” Now why the hell was he asking that?
She lifted her gaze from her plate. “Not those kinds of feelings, but he was the only person, except for Logan, who every truly cared about me. And look how I rewarded that.”
“By setting him up on the night of the murder?”
She nodded. “My father told me to send a text from Lucky’s phone to my dad’s to make it sound as if the shooting was Lucky’s idea. Ray said Lucky wouldn’t get in trouble, that Gus was a cattle rustler and the whole town would back Lucky and my dad. So I did it. But when Ray wanted to show the police the text to help him with his defense, I threatened to tell the truth. Then, later…I let him use it against Lucky.”
“Why?” Gabe asked.
“Because Lucky picked Tawny over me.” She put her fork down and turned away, gazing out the window into the distance. “Lucky could’ve been charged with a capital crime because of what I did. I never would’ve let it get that far, but the damage was already done.”
Gabe shouldn’t have sympathized with her. What she’d done to Lucky was an incredible betrayal. But Gabe, too, had caused irreparable damage to someone he’d cared for. And what did the good book say?
Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.
Amen to that.
* * * *
Raylene would never forget the night Lucky confronted her. She’d met him at the rodeo arena at Nugget High School, thinking he’d asked her there to reconcile. But a part of her had always known the truth: she didn’t deserve someone as good as Lucky, because at the root of everything, she would always be her father’s daughter. Bad to the bone.
She’d slid into his truck in a black leather dress, hoping to seduce him into loving her again. But he was angry. Angrier than
she’d ever seen him.
“I know you sent the text, Raylene.”
“Is this why you called me out here in the middle of the night?” She started to get out of the truck, but he stopped her.
“Why’d you do it, Raylene? Why’d you set me up?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She refused to look at him, but she didn’t leave, because deep down inside she knew she had to come clean.
“The phone was in the kitchen when the text was sent. It’s time stamped, and I have an alibi. One of my ranch hands was out by the corrals when I got there. I didn’t have my phone on me, so I asked to borrow his…to check on Katie. He’s ready to go to the police. So cut the shit, Raylene, and tell me why you did it.”
“You’re crazy, you know that?” Raylene spat out the words, but her heart was folding in half. How could she have done this to him?
“Get out of my truck.” He reached over and pushed open the door. “You heard me, get out. I’m going to the police. Planting evidence…you’ll go to prison, Raylene.”
“He made me do it,” she blurted, and her eyes filled with tears.
“Who made you do it?”
“My dad. He said you wouldn’t get in trouble. That Gus was a cattle rustler and that Clay McCreedy would back you and my dad. He wanted to show the police the text right away, to help him with his defense, but I threatened to tell the truth. Then, later…I told him he could.”
“Why?” Lucky asked, his eyes searching her for answers.
“Because you didn’t love me anymore.” She started weeping uncontrollably, and Lucky found a stack of napkins in the glove box and shoved them at her. “You picked Tawny over me.”
“Raylene, do you hear what you’re saying? Murder-for-hire is a capital crime. You’d see me executed for something I didn’t do because I’m with someone else?”
“No.” She blew her nose. “I wouldn’t have let it get that far. I just wanted you to feel the pain I was feeling.”
“Jesus.” Lucky hit his hands on the steering wheel. “When you married Butch, I went on a month-long bender. I was getting up on bulls when I couldn’t even see straight. But I never would’ve hurt you. Ever.”
“I know,” she said, and choked on a sob. “That’s why it hurt so bad. Because no one ever loved me like you did. Not my mother. Not my father. Not Butch. No one.” She swiped at her eyes, smearing her mascara. Lucky pushed more napkins into her hand. “I’ll go to the police, Lucky. I’ll tell them the truth.”
“You shouldn’t have let it get this far. What? Did Ray panic after he shot Gus and ask you to steal my phone and send the text?”
She started crying all over again. “He sent me over to your house to do it. He was angry at you for calling him an abusive father and husband. And livid about Gus taking his cattle. All day he paced and shouted how no one messed with Ray Rosser, yelling, ‘Not Gus. And not that bastard Lucky Rodriguez.’ Then you made it easy by leaving me and your phone alone in the kitchen.”
Lucky took a while to process that, then very softly said, “You were a vision, sitting there on the hood of your truck that night. Looking as beautiful as I’d ever seen you. I knew we were over—we had nothing to say to each other anymore—but even then I loved you.” Lucky tilted his head against the backrest and shut his eyes. “Get out of my truck.”
“Lucky, please—”
“If you’re not out of my truck in two seconds, I’ll physically remove you.”
She opened the door and put one foot on the running board. “I’ll go to the police right now and tell them the truth. I swear.”
And she did. But it was too late. She’d already lost two of the most important people in her life: Lucky and Cecilia. They had never talked to her again, a punishment that had crushed her black heart. She’d betrayed them and her entire hometown, losing everything that mattered. At least she’d been able to redeem herself in Logan’s eyes, and for that she thanked her lucky stars. Her half brother was the best thing that had ever happened to her, and she planned to hold on to him with both hands.
Gabe cleared away the breakfast plates. “Let me jump in the shower and we’ll get going. I’ll call the hardware store and tell them that we’re keeping the metal detector an extra day, and check with Griffin about stable space.”
She rose to help him clean the kitchen, walked over to the sink, and covered his hand with hers. “Thank you, Gabe.”
“De nada.” He stared into her eyes, and then he kissed her, his lips softly brushing hers while he held her close. It wasn’t the most passionate kiss she’d ever experienced, but there was something about it that was deeply intimate, and a dozen unwelcome emotions swamped her.
Her cell buzzed with an incoming call, interrupting the moment. Thank God. It was the area code for Nugget. Not Butch. Hallelujah.
Raylene took a deep breath and answered, “Hello.”
“Raylene, it’s Dana. The buyers want to know where we’re at on their offer. Technically, our deadline to respond was an hour ago.” Raylene didn’t say anything. “Are you there?”
“Uh, yeah, sorry. So if we accept, when would they start their inspections?” She needed time.
“They’d start right away. Typically, they have seventeen days to get it done and drop their inspection contingency. Because they want the property for commercial purposes, they may ask for extra time, but you don’t have to be here for that.”
She may as well have said, And don’t let the door hit you on the way out. The whole town couldn’t wait for Raylene to leave, and she didn’t blame them. She’d be out of here as soon as she found the gold.
“It’s not that; I was just wondering about the timing.”
Dana audibly sighed. “If you’d rather not see the land turned into a motocross park, we could hold out for other buyers.” Her voice sounded hopeful.
A dirt bike track wouldn’t go over well, though it would bring revenue to the town. And lord knew Raylene couldn’t afford to be choosy. She had a hefty rent payment due first of the month, a horse to board, and Lucy’s House was counting on her. If they didn’t get her donation, they’d have to close their doors, and then how many women would suffer?
“No, let’s accept,” Raylene said. She’d just have to work faster to find the treasure.
“Okay. I’ll let them know.” For a woman who stood to make a fat commission, Dana didn’t sound the least bit happy. “Can you come in today to sign paperwork?”
“Uh, how about this evening, about five or six?” Later was better, so she could take advantage of the daylight to continue the hunt.
“That’ll work,” Dana said, and signed off.
“What was that about?” Gabe hung up the dish towel and leaned against the counter.
“My property. I accepted an offer, which means we have to find the gold before the buyer starts his inspections.”
“Afraid he’ll get to it first?” He could laugh all he wanted now. When they were sitting on a big pot of money, she’d have the last laugh. “Who is it, anyway? Someone I know?”
“Nope. They’re from out of town.”
He pulled off a glove with his teeth and cracked his knuckles. “Ranchers?”
“Uh-uh. They’re in the entertainment industry.”
His expression turned into a giant question mark. “What do you mean by ‘entertainment’?”
“Racing.” She grabbed the sponge and began scrubbing pancake batter off the stovetop.
He let out a whistle. “Thoroughbreds, huh? I would’ve thought cattle, but yeah, racehorses make sense. Plenty of room for them to run.”
She couldn’t stand it. Being vague was one thing, misleading him was…well, it was lying. She used to be quite accomplished at stretching the truth, even mangling it for her own purposes. Not anymore. Not since Lucky almost took the fall for what her father had done.
“Not horses,” she said. “For a motocross track.”
He gave it a second to sink in. “Wow. You like twisting the knife, now don’t you?”
“It’s not my place to decide what someone does with the land once it’s theirs.” Even to her own ears she sounded too defensive. Moto Entertainment was offering her full price; she’d be a sentimental idiot not to take it.
“Nope, but you could sell to someone else. The constant noise, the smells, the traffic…it’ll be untenable for the neighbors. But I suppose this is your ultimate fuck you…to Lucky…Tawny.”
“I doubt they’ll even be able to hear it.”
“Really, Ray? They’re not even a mile away.” He put away the griddle, slammed the cabinet door shut, and strode away.
Chapter 15
Gabe felt sucker punched. Just when he was starting to think Raylene wasn’t the evil witch everyone thought she was…a motocross track. A goddamn motocross track. Sure, it was her property to sell to whomever she wanted to, but really? It was certainly an effective way to get back at everyone who’d been hateful to her. But he’d sort of gotten the impression that her trip here was as much about redemption as it was about Logan’s wedding.
Well, you were wrong, sucker.
He turned the water as hot as he could take it and stepped into the shower. Logan and Annie had redone the plumbing and gotten one of those tankless water heaters, so maybe he’d stay in here for the rest of the day.
He heard the door creak open and pulled the shower curtain open enough to see Raylene standing there.
“It’s not what you think,” she said. “I don’t want to sell to Moto Entertainment, but I need the money.”
He pulled the curtain closed, wanting his shower in peace. “You’ve got loads of it, Raylene. More than most people will ever have in a lifetime.”
“That’s the thing: I don’t.”
He didn’t want to hear her bullshit now. He just wanted a little time to himself to wash her away and get his head on straight. “I’ll help you look for the gold today if you promise to be out of here after we find a place for your horse.” When the neighbors caught wind of who she was selling to there’d be hell to pay, and he was duty bound to Logan to defend her.