For a minute he didn’t move at all, then sighed and shook his head. “How do you see us making any difference?” he asked.
Hope shot through her. She really didn’t know the answer, but he’d asked the question.
“I don’t know. But there’s got to be a way.” She took a step toward him. “If—”
His stomach rumbled loudly and he grinned at her ruefully. “No breakfast,” he admitted. “Or lunch, actually.”
“I can fry eggs,” she offered.
“I could take you out to eat.”
“There’s really not a place here in Calumnias. A family sells tacos at random hours, but—and anyway, I’m…kind of grubby.”
“Fried eggs sound fine.” He walked past her and looked out the window over the sink. “Secluded place you have here,” he noted, seeing nothing but the tangle of climbing roses that somehow had withstood years of south Texas heat.
“I’ve only been here a couple of years, but I love the plants. I haven’t killed them yet. There aren’t many people in this little place anyhow, so everything’s kind of secluded.”
“But I don’t make you nervous?” he asked, and she realized she had a death grip on the top of the chair nearest the door.
“No. Of course not.”
“Good.” He sat down at the end of the table farthest from the stove, and she knew he didn’t believe her.
“To be honest.” She turned on the burner and put a pan on to heat, “I…I’m not good around people. Especially people I don’t know. I am nervous. But it’s like all the time. It’s nothing personal.”
She needed silence, so she made sandwiches without speaking. Hard fried eggs, on bread slathered with margarine, mayonnaise, and covered with sharp cheddar cheese. Horribly unhealthy and the most comforting taste in the world.
She gave him another bottle of water and wished she had something more to offer him, because egg sandwiches actually went better with milk. But the milk was curdled and she hadn’t even remembered to throw it away.
She finished her sandwich slowly, glad he’d stayed, but clueless about how to get back to the all-important subject of saving Cowboy.
He got up, rinsed off his plate, then came back and sat down nearer her. “So, since we told them we were together, I should probably know stuff about you.”
He paused and she peered at him apprehensively. “Stuff?”
“Yeah, you know. Like your last name. If you’re seeing anyone else who might not like that little story we fed the sheriff and Benton. And why did a kid’s pony grow up to be a rodeo bronc?”
Her phone buzzed and she glanced automatically at the name, then flipped the phone aside. Her stepfather, Eric, expecting her to let him know where she was. It was none of his business. She tamped down sudden remorse. He hadn’t been a father, and she’d never forgive him for costing her Cowboy, but he’d loved her mother. She would try to reach out to him as her mother had wanted. Just not now.
“My last name’s Colton. My dad was Garret Colton.”
She saw he’d heard the name but couldn’t quite place it. “He was accused of trying to sell mineral rights fraudulently years ago. He was cleared of the charges, and there really wasn’t even much oil on the ranch. He died trying to help stop a brush fire on a neighboring ranch when I was six.”
“I kind of remember now,” he acknowledged. “That had to have been tough.”
She shrugged. “Losing someone you love always is. But I had Mom."
“Do you still?”
“No. Mom passed away eleven years ago. Spring semester of my first year at the University of Texas.”
“Sorry to hear it.” Joe reached out and squeezed her hand briefly. “I remember losing my Mom. It hurts.”
“Yeah.”
She closed her eyes, trying to shut the world out for a few seconds. The phone buzzed again, and this time she looked at Eric’s message and gasped.
“Some guy about to drop in on us?” Joe asked lightly. “Should I worry?”
“Yes.” She jumped to her feet and pushed her chair in. “If Eric gets here before I get back, just stall him. Don’t let him ask you a bunch of questions. I need to change.”
She stopped at her bedroom door and looked back. “Are you married?”
“No, but…”
“Thank God,” she said and closed the door between them.
***
Joe stared at the closed door and wondered how his marital state had anything to do with saving Cowboy—or any horse, for that matter. He didn’t hear a knock, but suddenly the front door exploded inward, bringing him to his feet, ready to defend Jody and himself if someone attacked them.
The man who came in looked like he should be coldcocked just for the hell of it. If he was a jealous boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, he was way too old for the woman changing clothes in her bedroom. The man’s eyes were darting around and he was flushed with anger. His hands were knotted into fists, and a thin film of sweat coated his face and the skin exposed by the open neck of the plaid, long-sleeved shirt he wore.
“Where’s Jody?” he demanded, his voice hoarse.
“Changing. She’ll be right out,” Joe told him, walking over with his hand out.
“That your truck out there? Not local plates.”
Joe dropped his hand. “Yes. My truck’s registered in Dallas. Came down this way to look at some livestock. Is that a problem?”
The newcomer stared at him for a moment. “Nah. I guess not.” He suddenly lifted his own hand. “I’m Eric Holcomb.”
“Joe Roberts.” He shook the older man’s hand, still wondering a little about the unnerving hostility Holcomb’s entrance expressed.
“Maybe you won’t mention my overreaction to Jody? She’s doing all this stuff online I don’t really understand and I worry about all the stories I hear. And if she got in trouble, she might not—”
The door opened and Joe made a noncommittal noise and hoped Jody would take over for him. You’re good at lying, she had said. Her return kept him from having to come up with another one. He wondered if she’d believe he hardly ever lied, and that he’d only done so earlier to protect her.
Jody walked part of the way over and nodded curtly at the newcomer. “Eric runs the ranch.”
“I’m her stepfather,” he elaborated, looking annoyed that she hadn’t acknowledged the relationship.
“I wasn’t expecting you to drop by today.”
“Just wanted to be sure you didn’t need anything, since I didn’t hear from you. Would you and Joe like to drive in to Carrizo Springs or Eagle Pass? Grab a bite to eat, maybe at that new steakhouse you told me about?” He looked at them hopefully, but Jody shook her head.
“I can’t. I have a paper I need to go over for a student.”
“And we just ate,” Joe added. “Maybe another time.”
“Reckon I’ll just eat back at the ranch, then. Jody, can you look over some letters for me during the week?”
She nodded without answering, and her stepfather sighed and held his hand out. “Nice meeting you, Joe. Guess you’ll be leaving soon yourself.” He cast a final, woeful glance at Jody and left as quickly as he had come.
“Well, that was awkward,” Joe observed with a grin. He rubbed his chin. “Guess he’s one of those nice guys when you get to know him?”
She brushed by him without answering. She couldn’t have showered in such a short time, but she’d put on some light floral scent and changed clothes. Surprising how sexy clean was. Annoyed with himself for thinking of her in those terms, he headed back to the kitchen. No point in sitting on that ridiculous doll furniture in her living room. Not when he’d suddenly had a flashback to the encounter at the pens. When she’d been all tank top and skinny jeans and boobs popping out.
“Most people like him just fine,” she said, following him. She pulled out the chair next to him instead of across from him and sat.
“But you don’t?”
She didn’t answer immediately. “He’s okay.
”
“So?”
She shrugged. “He stole Cowboy,” she answered flatly.
“Stole Cowboy?” Joe looked confused. “But—”
“First he had Cowboy gelded, knowing Mom and I wanted to breed him.” She stared at something beyond his sight. “Then, I came home from college and found him gone—dead, I was told. He got my Mom to go along with that. Not long after that, she really was dead—and flipping through a magazine one day, there he was. Making his name as a bronc. No one had even ridden him yet.”
He made a sound of sympathy, and she looked back at him. “I don’t trust easily anymore,” she told him.
“I get that,” he said.
She stood, hardness in her tone. “And I don’t forgive. Ever.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Jody spun on the worn heels of her boots and retraced her steps to the kitchen area. She glanced at her phone again. What if he didn’t come back?
The image of the kill buyer standing there looking her over as if she, too, were just a piece of meat kept coming back, making her want to gag. She cursed herself under her breath. Joe left after they’d talked only briefly about their meeting at the corral, then he’d said he needed to run an errand. And that he’d bring food back. She should have gone shopping when one of the neighbors had invited her to tag along a few days ago. Maybe he would have stayed if she’d had decent food. She swallowed hard. He was under no obligation to come back. He’d come to see Cowboy, but what reason would he have to help her figure out what to do next?
Time was running out. She’d heard that horses were shipped almost immediately from the holding pens in Eagle Pass to slaughterhouses in Mexico. She gripped the edge of the kitchen counter for balance. There were supposed to be vet checks and a rest period. But things happened. Lord knows, rules could be bent. She didn’t have faith that horses a truck ride away from being butchered were going to be treated with any kindness.
Those horses couldn’t leave for Eagle Pass. If she had to manage it herself—
Lights flashed outside, barely penetrating the wall of bougainvillea, and when Joe walked through the door, she wanted to cry with relief. Or hug him. Before she could do either, the scent of seared meat and fresh bread hammered her, making her take a step back. “Wow,” she said, and he laughed.
“I hoped I got it right,” he said. “I hoped your evil stepfather didn’t mention a steak place to lead me wrong.”
She pulled the bag away and headed toward the kitchen. “He’s not really evil.” She shuddered slightly, remembering Cowboy’s new owner. “Eric’s done horrible things. I don’t forgive him for some of them. But,” she sighed as she pulled out the takeout boxes, “he probably really believes he was doing them for me.”
He fished in a bag and pulled out assorted sodas and bottled tea, grouping them in the middle of the table like a centerpiece. “The food’s still fairly warm. Why don’t we eat?” He smiled, and for the first time, she noticed the dimples. “We can talk with our mouths full, if you want,” he added, and she realized he must be starving.
“You didn’t get this in Calumnias.”
“Nah. I’ve got a rodeo buddy with a ranch near Carrizo. He made a food run while I showered and talked to a couple of his hands. They know a lot about ranching. Hell, they know a lot about anything on hooves and everyone involved in any way. I asked them about Benton.” He noticed she hadn’t taken a box and waved at them. “Grab one.”
She took the nearest one and pushed the other closer to him, then reached for the nearest soda. “Did anyone know anything?”
“Benton isn’t a Texan. And he’s about as big a bastard as anyone could find.”
“We sort of guessed that,” she pointed out, disappointed. “By just looking at those poor horses.”
“But according to Ram and Chuy, the sheriff’s actually a fairly straight shooter. We were trespassing.”
“He didn’t seem worried about the lack of food and water. Or the way they were packed in those corrals.”
“Maybe he dealt with it after we left. Anyway, they figured Benton would feed them enough to get them through the inspections before they’re allowed to ship.”
She ate halfheartedly, trying not to think about Cowboy or the gruesome future facing all those horses. She couldn’t finish, but forced herself to stay at the table, letting Joe wolf down his food.
The sudden, electric glare of lightning striking nearby sizzled outside the window, followed by the roar of thunder. Jody jumped, spilling her tea.
“Where did that come from?” she asked, mopping the puddle of liquid with shaky fingers.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t think to mention it.” Joe stood and started cleaning the table. “We’re under a tornado watch and flash flood alert.”
“Nothing we don’t have every summer.” Jody glanced at the window as another flash lit up the darkness before disappearing behind the dark wall of vegetation. “But this one caught me off guard.” Her voice wavered a little. “And Cowboy hates storms.”
She threw the sopping wet napkins away and leaned against the bar, watching as Joe finished throwing away his collection of trash. “What are we going to do? We need to move right away. I don’t think he’ll keep the horses there very long.”
“The easiest thing to do would be to try to buy Cowboy back,” Joe said slowly. “If Benton’s really any kind of a businessman, it should be pretty straightforward. Slaughterhouses pay pennies on the pound for horses. If it’s worth his while, I can’t imagine him not jumping at the chance.”
Jody nodded and turned back to the window. He made saving Cowboy sound so easy. And that’s what she’d meant to do when she saw the picture, just save him. But all those other horses…she forced herself to breathe deeply a few times and focus on composure. Joe Roberts was a stranger with no stake in rescuing any of the horses, Cowboy included.
“Jody, even if you saved every horse in that hellhole of a place, in three or four days the pens would be full again. Get involved with rescuing these poor things, and you’ll eat yourself up over the ones that have to be put down. You’ll save them, but it won’t ever be enough. Where will it end? If you even pull it off this time.”
His words stung, because they echoed thoughts that had plagued her all afternoon while he was away. But who was he to count out her out so quickly? She shrugged. “You’re under no obligation, Joe. But I’m finding a way to save Cowboy. I don’t care what it takes.”
Behind him, the window lit up again. “I wouldn’t bet against you, Jody.”
The praise warmed her, but turning around to look at him was hard. As she started to, rain abruptly slammed against the window and tin room in an unnerving explosion of sound. The lights flickered, then went out, casting the room in darkness. She caught her foot on a chair leg and fell forward.
She didn’t see him move, but he stopped her fall, and warm strong hands clasped her arms, steadying her until she regained her balance. She could feel his heat through the inches separating them, sense rather than see the brown eyes watching her.
It had been so long since she’d let a man hold her. Need flamed through her and her legs shook slightly. She wondered if he knew. She wanted to press into him, to feel his grip tighten around her. If the lights stayed off, she would…
As suddenly as they’d gone, the lights came back on. Embarrassment washed away need.
He had words before she could think of anything to say. “Twice in a day.” Joe grinned and brushed a strand of hair off her damp cheek. “And you know what they say.”
She didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.
His smile broadened and he winked at her. “Third time’s the charm, Jody.”
***
Third time’s the charm. Right. He shifted against the stack of pillows, trying to find a way to fit into a bed that was just too small. The lights had gone out again twice and the small house was hot and humid. He wished Jody hadn’t been so worried about him sleeping out in the truck. He’d h
ave been more comfortable. Besides, she’d probably freak out if he got up and tramped through the bedroom at three in the morning. Truck doors and bougainvillea would have solved that problem.
He pushed himself up, deciding that there wasn’t much point in waiting. Besides, they’d agreed to drive to Eagle Pass and speak to someone in the sheriff’s office to get a feel for how closely they worked with Benton and try to get contact information on him. They’d tried for a couple of hours to come up with options to what he still saw as the only plan: to buy back Cowboy. Benton undoubtedly would ask an exorbitant price. He’d probably want to humiliate them, and if that made it possible for Jody to reclaim something as important to her as the horse was, he’d hold his temper in check. But as for the other horses…he just didn’t see how.
He tiptoed through her room. She had a nightlight on, and he didn’t know if she always used it or had left it for his convenience. He couldn’t resist glancing toward the bed as he passed, careful not to brush against the sheets and bedspread hanging over the edge. She slept on her side, knees slightly drawn up against a huge pillow covered with lace. She didn’t seem to sense his presence and he suspected that she’d cried herself to sleep, given the crumpled-up tissues clutched in the hand nearest her face.
He hated tears. His ex-wife had used them copiously when they first married, knowing their power over him. Later, Lorraine’s tears had disappeared, giving away to coldness and manipulation. Then she was gone, and for the first year after she left, he would have done anything to coax her back. Now into the third year, he had promised himself two things—never to marry again and never to fall for another woman’s tears.
Jody didn’t cry for herself, though, he realized. She cried for the horses she wanted to save and couldn’t. Because she surely knew deep down there wasn’t any hope for all of them. He shook his head, used the john, and made it back to the couch without waking her.
Which was good. He wasn’t sure how far he would have gone to keep her from crying again.
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