THE RENEGADE RANCHER

by Angi Morgan

  His brother turned, and they were face-to-face. Once again, it was like looking in a mirror. Gritted jaws. Clenched fists. Narrowed eyes. John moved and instinctively Brian brought up his hands to defend himself.

  “Damn it, Brian. I don’t want to fight you.” John clapped a hand on his shoulder. “After I leave, I can’t help you. You won’t be able to come home. It’ll be more than the local police camped out on our doorstep and it won’t be safe.”

  Brian jerked away from his brother, feeling more alone than he had in the twelve years they were apart. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t put you guys in danger. I’ll keep my distance and keep you out of this mess.”

  “You’re taking this all wrong. I didn’t mean it like that.” John scrubbed his face, then his head, the worry apparent in his eyes. “I was thinking it might be easier if we switched. You stay at the ranch and I’ll protect Lindsey.”

  “I thought that wasn’t possible with my new scar?”

  “Don’t be too hasty and hear me out. I have special skills and training that might come in handy.”

  “I think I can hold my own. We’re not much different.”

  “With most things, sure.” Both of John’s hands went to the top of Brian’s shoulders. It was the closest they’d gotten to a brotherly hug since they’d graduated from high school. “You know this guy’s not going to stop. What are you going to do when you find him?”

  Be more prepared than the last time. His hand went to the gun at his waist.

  “Are you prepared to pull that trigger and kill someone?”

  “If it comes to that.” He didn’t have to debate it. The answer was clear in his head and heart. He’d defend Lindsey without question.

  “You could both die.” His brother sounded more like his father for a minute.

  He understood wanting to protect his twin. It was exactly the reason he’d stepped forward and taken the blame all those years ago. “It means a lot that you want to take my place, but this is something I have to do.”

  His brother clapped him on the shoulder, squeezed his fingers. “I figured. I’ve seen the way you look at her. I didn’t think you’d do anything different, so I got Mac to let you use his place for a few days so you could lie low.”

  * * *

  AFTER THE SLOANE men headed to the bedroom, Lindsey had been tempted to follow them and eavesdrop at the door. But only for a second. If the thin walls didn’t allow her to overhear an argument, just like it had earlier, she’d ask Brian what John had to say later.

  The brothers were identical in so many ways, and yet different in so many, too. John acted so confident, but she had a sneaky suspicion he was just worried about losing his brother. Brian had appeared so withdrawn at first. It was much easier to like him when he was around his family. Whether he realized it or not, he smiled more on the ranch. Maybe it was the youthful playfulness even when he argued with his brother about serious subjects. Or maybe he was just cute. Period.

  Right now she needed to find a lead. Some tiny bit of information to begin a search. There had to be something.

  The slash on her arm ached. If she rubbed it or complained, Brian would insist she go to the hospital. He’d be arrested and she’d have no one to help her find this madman or a connection to her family. If the police hadn’t found a reason to investigate any of their deaths before, why would they now?

  “Lindsey have you seen my folder with your family information?” Brian began thumbing through Jeremy’s papers.

  “Hmm?”

  “I had the folder last night at your place when you noticed the fish food had moved,” he said, looking at her. “Then I— Son of a biscuit eater, I left it on the coffee table.”

  She went through the picture of her living room in her head. “It wasn’t there this afternoon when we went through the house.”

  “He knows exactly what we know.” John walked to the window, taking a quick look through the blinds.

  “How can he use that against us?” she asked. “Isn’t it more important to concentrate on why he’s killing my family?”

  “What if he doesn’t need a reason and he’s just a nut job? How are you going to stop him then?” John asked.

  John was right. The murderer was patient and had outsmarted them twice already. All he had to do was wait until the police stopped investigating him. Then one day when she was alone, he’d resurface and finish the job, crossing her off whatever insane death list he had stuffed somewhere.

  “You okay? You look woozy and didn’t answer.”

  “Maybe she needs the hospital after all. Mac will take her.”

  “I’m fine, and I’ll decide if I need to see a doctor.” The nausea she felt had nothing to do with her arm. It was from being scared down to her bone marrow at the idea of being hunted for the rest of her life. Hunted and never knowing why.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Brian asked. “The police wanted a motive. If we find the reason why the murderer has a feud with your family, we’ll find him.”

  John looked at his watch. “I need to hit the road and would feel better if you got going.”

  “He’s right, Lindsey. We need to head out. Mac gave us the keys to his place for a couple of days while we come up with a plan.”

  “There’s got to be something to this book and memory stick. It’s just going to take me time to piece it together.” She shut the laptop, then held her hand out to John. “I’m so sorry I’ve brought more chaos into your family, but I’m so grateful I’m not facing it alone.”

  “It’s more as though we brought a killer to your doorstep.” John pulled her into a bear hug. “Don’t let him do anything foolish,” he whispered.

  “I’ll try not to.”

  John nodded toward his brother. They both paused, and he left.

  “Are you absolutely certain that we’re doing the right thing? Your brother seems very upset at the idea of us trying to catch the killer.” She shoved the laptop in its case and slung the strap over her shoulder. “Shoot, I’m upset about finding a murderer.”

  “Sometimes he forgets who’s saved his hide more than once. But if you have any doubts about my abilities—”

  “No. It’s nothing like that.” Maybe she trusted too easily, but she did trust him. He’d put everything on the line for her, a virtual stranger.

  With her bag of clothes over his shoulder, his hands warmed her inside and out when he slid them along her back to draw her closer. He smoothed her hair behind her ear and trailed his fingers across her now-flushed cheek.

  “I’ll do my best to keep this guy away from you, Lindsey. I promise.”

  “I believe you.” She thought she spoke, maybe a broken, breathy sentence. But it didn’t matter.

  Brian tilted his head and leaned close. Her hand felt the wild cadence of his heart under the thin cotton of his T-shirt, along with the strong muscle tone. He oozed protection and sexiness. As his lips claimed hers, she remembered the feel of her legs wrapping around him, how he’d lifted her with ease and how she wanted to repeat the wild forgetfulness from earlier that morning.

  Gentle, firm, in control. He was all those things. She wanted more, wanted to drop their bags, kick off their shoes and head back to his room. Who was she kidding? She wanted his arms tight around her and didn’t care if they moved another inch.

  His lips gently pulled away, replaced by his finger smoothing the fire-parched surface.

  “It’s a good thing my brother was in here for the past hour. Otherwise—” he touched his lips to her ear “—I might have kissed you when you woke up and taken you straight back to bed.”

  She gulped, wishing they’d met last week when she’d first noticed him in the coffee shop. She dragged her nail across his lips, avoiding his teeth when he tried to snag it. “That’s pretty presumptuous, considering we just met yest
erday and you haven’t even bought me dinner yet.”

  “We’ll get that taken care of as soon as the police aren’t trying to arrest me for your murder.”

  “Absolutely, cowboy. It’s a date.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  They were in another unremarkable four-door car that belonged to the woman across the street from Brian’s family. The car couldn’t be traced back to them, but she still turned her face away from drivers pulling alongside. Lindsey had picked up enough at the ranch to understand that JW Sloane was spending his nights at Mabel’s and she was practically family.

  It had been a long while since her family had consisted of more than Jeremy. And she was ashamed to admit that she’d put him off several times before begging him to come to Cozumel with her. He’d gotten his life together and she’d kept “bumming around,” as he’d put it.

  “You sounded pretty knowledgeable with all that computer lingo back there. I guess I should hire you to get a website together for the ranch.”

  “I let all that go when I moved here.”

  “Aren’t you good at it?”

  Brian’s question seemed like ordinary conversation and probably was. She was half mad at herself for walking away from that dream. She’d been getting new sites and had loyal customers. It was hard to explain to an outsider that one of the last conversations she’d had with Jeremy was about keeping her word and responsibility.

  “I hold my own.”

  “Then why’d you give it up to sell mobile phones?”

  She’d promised Jeremy that Cozumel would be her last “fling.” She hadn’t meant it at the time, knowing full well that she’d talk him into another spur-of-the-moment vacation later. But when he’d died, it all rushed her as though she’d been hit by the lip of a wave and totally wiped out. She hadn’t surfed since.

  “Why are you riding around in an ambulance instead of on a horse?”

  “Touché. So you know how to surf?”

  “I practically lived on the water. I surfed every day I could.” The rush and power of doing something well hit her as strong as the desire to run back to the ocean. Leave searching for the serial killer to someone else trained to find a sicko like that. Leave and disappear on the beaches with some waves and a good board.

  “Wow. Not sure I’d like it out there with sharks under my toes.”

  “I loved it at the time.”

  “Is there any money in web design?” Brian drove, seeming as though nothing was wrong. Not as if they’d seen the killer or were running from the cops. He was so laid-back she could easily imagine him as a surfer. No bumps in a wave for him.

  The conversation was such that two people might have on their first date. She knew so little about him other than he was a rancher who supplemented his income by working as a paramedic.

  “I suppose there’s money in it for those who try. I mainly did it for friends. I couldn’t spend much time on it while at work. There wasn’t good internet access at the beach huts.”

  He rubbed his forehead, scratching the stitches on his wrinkled, confused brow.

  “Most of my jobs revolved around renting boogie boards to tourists. I’d follow the coast, working in different cities, crashing with different friends—or a friend of a friend. Sunup to sundown. Barefoot with sand between my toes. Spring break until it was too cold to open the rental huts. I made enough helping with websites to pay my share of the rent when the beaches were closed. That’s all I cared about.”

  “You sound like you miss it.”

  “I shouldn’t. There was no stability in that line of work. And I’d never get ahead, as Jeremy constantly reminded me. Wouldn’t you know that as soon as I have my act together, a serial killer smashes my car trying to murder me.” A cracked laugh escaped from high in her throat, making her sound a bit frazzled. Or a little loony.

  Brian cleared his throat, creating a nervous silence that she didn’t know how to get herself out of. There was nothing to comment on except the darkness. In the middle of nowhere, on the edge of civilization, but far enough away to remind her just how much light streetlamps provided. Brian slowed for a stop sign and her heart jumped into her throat.

  It had only been twenty-four hours since her car had been hit. There weren’t any other headlights, but her hands gripped the edge of her seat, bracing herself. A warm hand covered hers. His strength shot a different type of adrenaline through her system.

  “It’s okay.”

  His deep baritone voice whispered a complex comfort in its simplicity. Something her body understood more than her mind. His calloused fingertips rubbed her cold hand back to life. She no longer concentrated on the crash. The excitement of his kiss washed over her and she wanted to recapture all the exhilaration she’d felt moments before leaving his apartment.

  The dashboard lights softened the sharp angles of his face and smile. He waggled his eyebrows before he looked both ways along the deserted road and stepped on the gas again. Bringing her hand to the side of his thigh, he laced his fingers through hers and held tight. So did she.

  “Mac’s place should be around one or two more curves,” he said after a couple of minutes.

  “Have you been there before?”

  “I never heard of the guy until my brother texted me. I am, however, great with directions. I never got lost when I drove the ambulance.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if they should trust a man they didn’t know, but it wasn’t necessary. Mac had already proved his friendship to them both by guarding the door while they slept. She also wanted to avoid speaking of the reason they needed to hide. She was enjoying the silence and holding Brian’s hand.

  Two days ago, if Beth had told her those two things would be appealing, she would have fallen over laughing. Now having this man’s thumb tenderly caress her hand was sweet and sexy at the same time.

  The stress of the past day had kept her adrenaline at extreme levels. There was a strong desire to forget all of it for the rest of the night. Just being on an even, relaxed keel was appealing. But not as appealing as being safe enough to explore every inch of the man beside her.

  The thought of how they could fill some downtime had her blood bubbling with excitement and tingling so much, her body shivered.

  “I know you want to plan out our next move. So do I. Let’s find Mac’s place and then we can work our way through Jeremy’s paperwork.”

  “Sure.” She didn’t want to think about papers or trails or clues. But most of all, she didn’t want Brian to let go. And she didn’t want to think about why.

  How could she consider an interlude—to put it nicely—with a guy she just met yesterday?

  Impossible. No way. That was the old Lindsey. The Lindsey who tossed her sleeping bag on a beach chair half the summer. She was responsible now and couldn’t do things like that. She wouldn’t sleep with Brian Sloane, no matter how much she wanted to. No matter how tempting or how safe she felt with the man trying to save her life. She would not break her promise to Jeremy.

  “Here we go.” Brian used both hands to turn the big car onto a dirt road overgrown with tree limbs in spite of the drought they’d seen all summer. “Mabel’s going to have a cow if these sticks scratch her paint job.”

  “Uh-huh.” She stuck her hands under her legs to keep them from wandering back to Brian’s.

  Less than a minute of driving and the tree limbs stopped creeping near the car and then were gone. Camouflage for the Marine’s home that was at the end of the short road. What had seemed like a dark trail actually opened onto a large open field surrounding the small house.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m fine, and you can stop asking me that.”

  He parked the car in back, off the driveway and close to the back door. He twisted in his seat, no longer looking casual, but very calcul
ated as if he was thinking about how each word would sound before they crossed his lips. “If you’re upset about what I said earlier, I can apologize.”

  “I don’t need an apology.” And hated that he thought she did. “I need something to let me know that I’ll eventually wake up from this nightmare.”

  * * *

  JUST HIS LUCK. Hold a girl’s hand and she calls it a nightmare.

  Brian knew it wasn’t him and could admit he had no business telling her earlier he’d rather take her to bed. Crass. Rude. Ungentlemanly. And a couple of other things if his daddy found out. Being nearly thirty years old wouldn’t stop the old man from giving him a good earful on how to treat a lady.

  “One day the nightmare will be over.” He hoped. “Remember, we’re going to catch—”

  “This creep.” She laughed, finishing his sentence. She dropped the partial braid she’d been nervously plaiting and slapped her jean-covered thighs. “I think that must be our mantra for this adventure.”

  “And a damn good one to remember until we do.” Brian laughed. Easy, pleasant and infectious. “Adventure, huh? Ready to find out if Mac has running water and electricity?”

  “Where are we?” she asked as they unloaded and unlocked the door.

  “A little north of Fort Worth. Not too far out in the boonies.”

  “It feels like the boonies. I’m horrible at directions, but it doesn’t seem possible that we’re still near Fort Worth.”

  “We’re not far. Straight highway and we can be back at your place in half an hour. Good, he has lights.”

  “You were just joking about the running water, right? I never did get that shower.”

  “Try that door.” He pointed to one next to the small kitchen.

  She cracked the door enough for him to see a sink, gave him a thumbs-up and disappeared behind the closed—and locked—door.

  Mac’s house was totally off anyone’s radar if they were looking for someplace Lindsey would be hiding. She’d be safe here, which was Brian’s primary objective. He heard the shower and a long, relieved sigh through the thin wall. He finished unloading the food from Mabel’s car, breaking a sweat and making the skin under his bandage itch.