by Jodi Thomas
Cord forced his anger to settle. Before he said a word, he saw panic flash in her eyes. She was afraid of him. He’d never hurt her, never raised his hand to her. But her blue eyes couldn’t hide the fear as she stared at him. She thought she was watching a wild animal. Maybe she thought he’d snap and hurt her like all the folks in town seemed to think he might. After all, he was an ex-con.
Slowly, he took the shirt and pulled it over tired shoulders. “Thanks.” His voice sounded hoarse even to him. “You were there at the lake ten years ago, weren’t you, Nevada? You saw the cop tear off my shirt, because he was certain that I had a weapon. That’s why you buy all those shirts. You’re trying to replace that one from ten years ago.”
She didn’t answer.
“I talked to Salem this morning. He told me a girl told the officer left at the scene about what happened, but she wouldn’t testify. The next day, her father swore she wasn’t there.” Cord let out a long breath and felt his muscles relax. “It was his word against a cop who’d seen her in the dark, and nobody thought to question your daddy’s word; after all, he was a big rancher.”
Nevada crumpled, disappearing from the lights of his truck and her Jeep. For a moment it was as if she just vanished.
Cord stepped toward where she’d been. On the third step, his leg bumped against her. He knelt, feeling her shoulders as she crouched, curled into a ball. His grip was rough as he pulled her up, needing to see her face. Her body was stiff in his grip, as if she were preparing for a blow.
Her tears cracked the wall of anger he’d been building inside all day. He circled her with his arms and pulled her close. All the times when she’d talked to him. All the nights she’d rattled on about nothing and suddenly his wife couldn’t say a word.
“We’re going to talk about this,” he finally whispered as his hands stroked up and down her back. “It’s not going to stand between us anymore. We’re going to get it all out, right now.”
He felt her nod against his shoulder. Before all the wrong words came between them and the fragile peace they’d known was forever broken, he kissed her one last time. Her lips were salty with tears, but she kissed him back. He felt her lip tremble and her hand rest hesitantly over his heart, but she gave him what he needed, one last kiss.
When he finally pulled away, he lifted her and walked to the bed of the pickup. It was dark there, but maybe what they had to say needed to be said in the shadows. After all, that was where it had happened.
He set her down and rested his hands on either side of her knees. “Tell me the truth. I’ve got a right to know. Did you marry me out of guilt? Was it some kind of sick joke?”
She gulped back a sob, and he understood.
“Before you start, let’s get one thing straight. I’m not going to hurt you, Babe. No matter what you tell me, I swear, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to leave you either. No matter what is said here, I go back with you and we finish what we’ve started. We make it to the first frost. We make the ranch pay.”
She nodded, but he couldn’t be sure she believed him. He fought the urge to touch her, but he knew if he did, they’d never work this out. The attraction between them was the only thing he knew was real.
She wrapped her arms around her sides, making the shadow of her seem smaller. “I saw what happened that July Fourth. I tried to tell the cop writing down names of who was there, but I could tell he wasn’t buying my story even if he did write it in his notes. He kept asking if I was with you and would I lie just to help you.”
Cord waited, giving her all the time she needed.
“When I got home, my dad exploded. He slapped me so hard my ears rang. He said everyone already hated the Britains, and if I got mixed up in your problem it would only be worse. He threatened all kinds of things if I spoke up again and convinced me that they wouldn’t take my statement anyway. All the time he was talking, he was jerking me around, slapping me just to make sure I got the point of every word he said.
“If my mother hadn’t stepped in, I think he might have beat me senseless that night.” She stared at her fingers twisted together in her lap. “My brother Barrett was there. He just stood watching and smiling, like it was about time someone taught me a lesson. I knew that night I was nothing to my dad, and my brother would never come to my rescue. I wanted to help you, but I couldn’t fight them all, and I didn’t believe a drunk minor’s statement would be of much help.”
Cord knew she was probably right. He waited for the rest.
Finally, she said, “For years, even after you got out, Barrett teased me that you were going to come over and kill me some night. He said if you weren’t a bad guy when you went to prison, you would be when you got out. He had me afraid to drive down the road past your farm.”
“How do you know I’m not?”
“I didn’t, but that day you worked on the Jeep, I was at the end of my rope. Another year of poor management and I would lose the ranch. My ex had been promising to come back. When my father was dying and Barrett was packing to make his break, Bryce grew tired of all the problems and took off, thinking that I’d be begging for his help in a few months. He didn’t take my calls or answer my mail. By the time he found out about the divorce it was almost final. He couldn’t stop it, but he swore I’d come back to him begging for his help one day. Even after the divorce was final, he whispered that when I begged him to take me back, I’d have to come on his terms.”
“So you married me before Bryce could get to you?”
“No. I needed your name to prove I’d moved on. I don’t know, maybe I was tired of fighting him alone. I thought he’d back away if you were in the picture. I told Bryce that if he stepped foot on my land I’d shoot him, and I meant it. I married you because . . .” She hesitated, then put her hand on his arm. “When I saw how you took care of the Jeep that day and how no one gave you any credit for doing it, I wanted to make you the man you would have been if you hadn’t gone to prison. The man you should have become.”
Cord pulled back. He hadn’t expected her to say something like that.
“I saw it in you, Cord, and I was right. You were a good man, broken and hollow, forced into a hard life. I thought I was helping, but I’m not sure if I haven’t brought you more trouble than you had before.”
He didn’t touch her when he whispered, “Don’t you know? You brought me to life.” He couldn’t lie to her, couldn’t play any games.
He brushed his fingers over her hair. “I told you once that I’d forgive you anything, but this, it’s nothing to forgive. I fell into hell, but you were going through it too.”
“You don’t hate me?”
“How could I hate someone I love so much? Somehow you crawled into my heart, and I’d have to cut the thing out of my body to stop caring.”
He lifted her up and swung her into the light.
She smiled, seeing him open for the first time. All at once she was crying and laughing at the same time.
As he lowered her in front of him, a shot rang out in the night.
Cord reacted on instinct, taking her with him to the ground between the two sets of headlights.
Another shot. Then another as Cord pulled her deeper into the darkness.
“Follow me,” he whispered. “Stay away from the light.”
He heard one of the bullets kick up dirt. Another hit a rock three feet away. Whoever was firing was guessing. They were too far from town or the ranch to make it on foot, and it was unlikely anyone on the ranch would hear the shots. Their only chance was to make it to the Jeep.
He pulled her close, trying to shield her as much as he could with his body. “Move toward the Jeep and slip into the driver’s side,” he whispered. Another shot rang out. The shooter was spraying the area between the two lights, hoping to hit something.
Silently, he pulled the wire cutters from his back pocket and tossed them toward his pickup.
They hit the roof and rattled off onto the hood.
Three rapid-f
ire shots shattered the night air. All hit the truck. One smacked a light. Another broke the windshield.
Cord ran for the Jeep, hoping Nevada had made it before him.
When he climbed in the open window, he heard her shift and gun the engine. Like a rocket the little Jeep went backward for a quarter mile, then spun around and flew toward the main road.
He heard a few more shots, but he guessed they were out of range by the time whoever was shooting at them figured out what was happening.
“Where?” Nevada yelled.
“Straight to town. If we head to the ranch house, we might be followed.” As she drove faster than he thought the old Jeep could possibly go, he dialed Galem and told him what had happened.
“Stay inside until light. Tell anyone at the bunkhouse to do the same. I don’t want him picking anyone off. Call all the guys and tell them not to come in tomorrow until I send the order. We have to know it’s safe before we step out.”
Cord listened, then hung up. “Galem thinks the shooter might have followed you out to me. He said he passed a car on the county road that looked abandoned. When you went past, the shooter could have left his lights off and followed you. This Jeep makes so much noise neither of us would have heard another car.”
“But he would have to know this ranch very well to know where I turned off the road onto the land. There’s only a ten-foot hole in the fence.”
Cord thought of the pictures. “He does know the ranch well.”
Nevada turned onto the main road, and within a few minutes they saw the lights of Harmony.
When they got to the sheriff’s department, the night shift was still working. Phil Gentry took all the notes but wanted to wait for daylight and the sheriff. “Not much we can do for a few hours. Alex will be in about eight if she doesn’t get a call on the way into work. As long as you’ve got your people inside and safe, there’s not much we can do about a shooter on your land. It would take a few dozen men to even find him, and we’d never be able to round them up this time of night.”
“Once it’s light, I can fly and tell you if he’s on my land.” Cord was already forming a plan.
“That might work. Alex and a few of us can be on the ground. We’ll get the highway patrol to block the roads in and out of your place. If you spot him, you can direct us to him.”
“I can do that.” Cord fought down a yawn.
Phil shook his head. “You folks look beat. Why don’t you go over to the diner and get some breakfast and a pot of coffee? I think they open at five.”
“I could use a few hours’ sleep if I’m going to be flying soon.” Cord’s muscles were sore from the hard work he’d done and he hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast yesterday, but most of all he needed to sleep.
“I got a couple of empty cells. You’re welcome to your pick.”
“No, thanks. I’ll sleep standing up before I step foot in a cell. How about that couch in the sheriff’s office?”
Phil waved them into her dark office. “It’s not much better than the bunk in the cell, and with the glass door there’s no privacy. What about you, Mrs. McDowell? What can I get you?”
“I stay with Cord,” she whispered.
“I understand. You’ve both had quite a night, but don’t worry, I’ll be right outside on duty. You’re safe here. You won’t need an alarm clock. When the day shift comes on they make enough noise to wake even the dispatcher.”
Cord tugged off his boots as she closed the door and found a blanket folded in a corner. He stretched out on the couch and she moved in beside him. The milky glass on the door made the pale light in the room almost moonlight.
“There’s not enough room,” she whispered, pushing him over.
He tugged her against him, already half asleep. “Where I sleep—”
“I know,” she answered.
After a few minutes, she whispered, “Did you mean what you said back there?”
“When?”
“Before the shots were fired. Did you mean what you said about loving me?”
He took a deep breath and answered, knowing that there would be no going back, “I did. I think I always have, but Babe, I’ve got to admit, you’re not an easy woman to love.”
She rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arm across his chest. “I know. Haven’t you heard that nothing worth doing is ever easy?”
He kissed the top of her head. “Well, at least it’s not boring.”
Chapter 36
RONNY TALKED MARTHA Q INTO TAKING MR. CARLEON TO the hospital to see the new baby. Mr. Carleon didn’t seem all that interested, but when Ronny said she needed to take a nap, the proper gentleman understood.
“There are some papers I need to go over with you when you feel up to it,” he said.
“I’ll call you when I wake,” Ronny promised as she waved.
She moved into her apartment as they drove away. To her surprise, he seemed to enjoy Martha Q’s company. He lived a very ordered life, and Martha Q had never even organized her thoughts. Maybe opposites do attract.
Ronny looked around her place. Everything had been put back in order as if Marty had never been there. But she saw the little differences and she knew he’d always be with her. This time he hadn’t left her; he’d gone on ahead.
Mr. Carleon had left a folder at the kitchen table where he often did his work. This was the first time he hadn’t put every paper away in his case, and she had no doubt that the folder was for her.
Absently, she looked at it, knowing this was what he planned to talk to her about when she was ready.
On the top of a stack of papers was a plane ticket to Paris for September third. Scribbled in Marty’s bold hand was a note. You have to see Paris in the fall.
She moved her thumb over the words he’d written before turning the page.
Next was a two-week cruise down the Rhine and another for the Mediterranean. Complete with luggage tags and agendas for each day.
Next, clipped together were all that was needed for traveling down the Nile.
Ronny turned over another ticket, then another, each dated, planned, organized.
Each trip moved into the next until finally, the last was a flight to New York for December twenty-third. Promise you’ll stay to ring in the New Year, a note said.
Beneath the last ticket was a key and a final note. My apartment in Manhattan. Stay as long as you like.
Next, she noticed page after page of details. Tours, dinners, plays, concerts all marked paid in full on the agendas. There is plenty to do in New York until spring. Walk in Central Park when the gardens start to green and feel my love walking with you.
Ronny smiled. Marty was giving her the world. She would trade it all for one more day with him, but that wasn’t possible, so he’d given her memories.
He’d also given her time to mourn. By the fall he wanted her traveling.
She pulled on her jacket and walked the blocks to the cemetery, loving the cool morning air. The tent was gone and hundreds of flowers now lay across his grave. Ronny didn’t cry; she just sat in the grass beside him and remembered.
“In a perfect world, you’ll be with me,” he’d said, and someday she would be, but now wasn’t her time to die. Now was the time to live so when they did meet again, they could compare notes on all they’d seen.
After a while, she stood and walked home, thinking of all the things she had to do to be ready to travel. She wanted to finish her last two classes online and get her degree. Marty would have liked that. She would have to train someone to take over at the post office. She’d have to shop for clothes.
Her mother was waiting in front of her house when she came back from the cemetery. Ronny walked past her window expecting to see Dallas race off at any moment to prove she still wasn’t speaking to her child.
Only Dallas rolled down the window. “I won’t come in,” she said, as if she’d been invited. “I just came to tell you that you can come home. I hate the thought of everyone seeing y
ou falling apart in public over some man who wouldn’t marry you but came to live with you.”
“He came to die.” Ronny was surprised how calm she felt. Her mother’s words didn’t bother her at all. She could almost see Marty smiling at her from the front window.
“Well, what are you going to do with yourself? Never a wife, not a widow. He didn’t leave you any money, did he?” She answered her own question. “Of course not. If he had money he wouldn’t have moved in with you so you could be a free nurse to him.”
“He didn’t leave me a dime, but I’ve saved a little and I think I may travel for a while.”
Dallas laughed. “You travel? You don’t even know how to drive on the interstate. Except for that time your father insisted we go to Kansas, you’ve never even stayed in a hotel. You’ll get as far as Dallas or Oklahoma City and turn around, crying all the way home.”
“Maybe. I’ll send you a postcard if I don’t turn around.”
“You always were a fool, Ronny. Why would you want to travel alone when you can come home and keep me company?”
Ronny turned away and was halfway up the steps before she looked back. “Good-bye, Mother.”
Dallas gunned the car and drove off without a word.
Smiling, Ronny could almost see Dallas’s reaction when a card from a different country arrived every week. She’d go on the trip Marty planned and, who knows, maybe she would stay in New York long after the new year.
Chapter 37
CORD WAS IN THE AIR BY TEN, CROSSING BACK AND FORTH over the land. Nevada wanted to go with him, but he knew she’d be safer with the sheriff. They all agreed that the shooter had wanted to kill.
He flew low, looking for a car that didn’t belong, or even tracks in the pastures. The area where he’d been putting up fence last night bordered government land that was too rocky for much of anything. A man would have to know the land, know what he was doing, to track across that land. He’d also have to be a good shot to fire on them at night.
Nevada told him Bryce had been a hunter since he could tag along with his dad, but that wasn’t exactly damning evidence. Many men in Texas could say the same.