by Alison Kent
“Not with a major land deal in the offing.”
“Just what do you think you know?” Now Loft’s eyes grew cunning and he hunkered down, like a cornered predator ready to claw his way out.
“Thank God you’re such a braggart. You made it easy. You must have found out from your developer friends that Callie’s land would be in line for a major trade for pricey real estate.”
“You’ve been drinking beer in the sun too long, O’Neill. You’re having delusions.”
“We’ve got a witness who’s happy to testify about the cans. Other people are sick of your blackmail and your big mouth and they’ll say what they know. I’m not sure what the charges are for fraudulent use of a federal grant, but I’m sure Homeland Security will be eager to see the gold faucets they paid for.”
“Now you sound crazy.” But Loft’s breathing was shallow, and his body seemed poised to take action. “What do you want?”
“I told you. Turn yourself in. You could say you thought Callie had set the fire and you wanted to help her. Maybe you can cut a deal.” Deck shrugged. “Not that you deserve one.”
“Never going to happen.”
“Do the right thing, Taylor. Save yourself a drawn-out investigation and all that public shame. Think of your father. He’s a good guy. He doesn’t deserve to be humiliated this way.”
“You leave my father out of your horseshit.” Loft sneered. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with,” he said lowly.
“Because you have friends? Not anymore. What’s paying for strippers at a convention compared to years of extortion from a greedy, small-time blowhard like you?” Deck had no idea whether that was true, but his words made fear flicker in Loft’s face.
“Turn yourself in or expect to be arrested,” Deck said. “I am sorry this will hurt your dad. In this case, the bad apple fell nowhere near the tree.”
Taylor stood like a statue, his face stony, but the tremor in his hands told the truth. He was scared.
“I go from here to the sheriff’s office. Last chance.”
Taylor didn’t move.
Deck took one of Loft’s business cards from its holder, then used the man’s gold pen to scribble Deck’s cell number on the back. He pushed the card toward Loft. “I’ll keep my phone on.”
Damn. Loft was more stubborn than Deck had hoped, but he’d do something incriminating soon. Deck would have to leave the next steps to Suze and Tad.
“You hear all that?” he murmured to Suze as he left.
She nodded nervously.
“Watch him close. Keep Tad on speed dial. If anything scares you, get out, no questions asked.”
Down the block, he met up with Tad as previously agreed and took the envelope with the evidence Tad and Suze had gathered. “He’s scared, but he didn’t fold,” Deck said. “Stay on him. I’m heading to the sheriff.” He lifted the envelope. “We’ll get him. Don’t worry.” With any luck, by nightfall Taylor Loft would be under arrest.
IT WAS AFTER SIX and Callie was about to quit and head up to her room when Betsy at the front desk called to tell her Taylor Loft was there to see her.
“Send him in,” she said, filled with dread. He wanted her decision on his deal. She might as well get this over with.
“I’m taking off if that’s okay?” Betsy asked. “I have a date.”
“Sure. It’s time. Put the phone on night ring.”
“Thanks so much.”
Seconds later, the office door opened and Taylor entered. He looked odd. He was walking crookedly and his smile was off. Then the smell of booze hit her. Taylor was drunk. And in uniform.
“Are you okay?” she said.
“Jus’ wannada see you,” he slurred, holding himself in the oddly stiff way of a drunk person trying to pretend he wasn’t.
“Come and sit down,” she said, motioning toward her father’s sofa, wishing fleetingly that she’d asked Betsy to stick around for a bit. She sat at the far end.
“I need you to sign the paper,” Taylor said. He dragged the contract, now crumpled, from his back pocket and stepped in front of her. “Now’sa time.”
“I’m sorry, Taylor, but it’s too soon for me to sell.”
“What?” His words went hard and his eyes glittered with anger. On the rare times she’d seen Taylor drunk in high school, he’d been cheerful, not mean. “You owe me this,” he growled.
“I appreciate all your help, Taylor,” she said slowly, “but I have to do what’s best for my father and me.”
“This is a damn good offer. Better than you’ll get.” Something in his expression scared her. He loomed over her. He was a powerful man and she realized he was armed.
She tried to get up, but he pushed her down and sat close. He seemed to switch gears. Sexual interest sparked in his eyes, scaring her. “Give me a chance,” he said in a voice tight with threat. “I can be what you want.” He took her arm and squeezed.
“Let go of me,” she said sternly, her heart racing.
He looked down at his hand, as if noticing for the first time that he had hold of her. “Sorry.” He let go. “Don’t run.” His voice took on a pleading tone. “I won’t hurt you.”
“I’m right here,” she said, but she tensed, ready to spring away the first chance she got.
“Why him?” he said, his voice bitter, his eyes puppy sad. “He’s got nothing. No ambition. He’s a freaking ranch hand. I’ve improved myself. I’m moving forward. I’m better than I was in high school. Give me a chance to prove it.”
“You’re not yourself right now. Please leave before you do something you’ll regret.” She started to rise, ready to get the door, but his hand snaked out with surprising force and yanked her down again, pinning her flat on the cushions.
“You don’t know what I did for you.”
“Yes I do. You did a lot. I appreciate everything—”
“I got rid of that varnish to save you. I risked everything for you.” He squeezed her wrists for emphasis and jabbed her stomach with a knee.
“You’re hurting me. You don’t want to do this, Taylor. Let me go. We can talk when you’re feeling better.”
He didn’t speak, didn’t move and he didn’t let go. Instead his gaze seemed to turn inward. He wasn’t listening anymore. He was gone. Get away, get out. She lunged upward and twisted her wrists with all her might to free herself.
For a second she thought she’d made it. He released her and she scrambled to a sitting position so she could run away.
“Stay right there.” His voice was cold and his eyes were as dead and black as the muzzle of the gun she stared into.
Terror washed like a wave of ice water down her body.
“I’ve been nothing but nice to you,” he said in a wheedling voice. “Now it’s your turn to be nice to me. That land is mine. I’ve offered a fair price, so you need to do the right thing.”
He put the paper on the table, took a pen from his pocket with the hand not holding a gun. “I’m not spending the rest of my life handing out parking tickets and hassling drunks, only to retire to a golf-cart ghetto like my dad. The Lofts owned half this county. One bad year and my great-great-granddad was robbed of it all. You owe me that land. Now sign.”
“Leave her alone, Loft.” Deck’s voice was steady and low. “Put your weapon away.”
Taylor swung the gun in Deck’s direction, holding Callie down with his body. “Stay there. Hands on your head.”
“This is not what you want,” Deck said, still moving forward, hands up slightly. “Think this through. Be smart.”
Taylor’s hand twitched around the gun. “Stop telling me what I want. I know what I want.”
She had to stop Deck from risking his life.
“I’ll sign, Taylor. It’s only fair. I was being greedy.” Her throat was so dry she had to force the words.
“Good,” he said, his tone like the old Taylor. “I’m glad you understand. I knew you would come around.” He seemed to have to look at her, tugged by his feel
ings for her.
His hesitation, his focus on her gave Deck the chance he needed to lunge for Taylor’s gun arm, yanking it upward. The men struggled for a few frightening seconds until abruptly, Taylor sagged, giving up.
Deck took the gun. “Call 911, Callie. Let the sheriff’s office know Loft is here. They’re waiting for him at his place. Then you stay out in the lobby. I want you safe.”
She glanced at Taylor, who sat with his elbows on his knees, head in his hands, then left the room to make the call.
In a half hour, Callie watched as Taylor was helped into the back of a Pima County Sheriff car like a criminal. With a start, she realized that was exactly what he was.
As soon as they drove Loft away, Deck turned to Callie. She looked small and scared standing there, so he pulled her into his arms to comfort her, sick to death that he’d risked her life. “I’m sorry we left you so exposed,” he said into her hair, then pulled back to explain. “Loft didn’t crack when I confronted him. Tad tailed him to his house, then he ducked out for gas. By the time he got back, Loft was gone. I would have been here before Loft, except I was coming from the sheriff’s office.”
“What did you say to him? He acted so crazy.”
Deck explained what he’d learned and suspected.
She looked up at him. “You think he was framing me? He told me he took the cans to protect me.”
“With his twisted thinking, maybe he was.” Where was the harm in letting her believe that?
“He wasn’t like that in high school. How did he get so bitter?” Callie gave everyone too much credit. “You saved me, Deck. Again.”
“I also put you in danger.” Looking into her face, something gave way inside him and he realized he was in love with her. Hopelessly and pointlessly, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could think of to stop it.
“You’ve done so much for me,” she said. “To the end of my days I’ll be grateful.” She stopped as if she feared she might cry. Her eyes were shiny with tears.
“I’m glad we had time together,” he said gruffly, though nothing in his life had ever hurt more. He wasn’t quite saint enough to believe it had been worth it.
Callie had awakened him. He’d been in some kind of Van Winkle sleepfest and now he was fully, painfully awake.
A WEEK LATER, Callie took the steps from the porch headed for the barn. She needed to talk to Deck, and he’d suggested they go for a horseback ride. It would be their last one and she wore her comfortable Wranglers, her old scuffed boots and her Stetson. The red leather jacket and boots were packed away where they belonged. They were for show, not for riding.
She watched Deck emerge from the barn with Brandy, his long legs strong and sure, his shoulders broad, his dove-gray Stetson firmly on his head, so handsome and manly her throat tightened.
She would miss him so much. She would miss the ranch, too. For all the stress and trouble, enjoying it again had been a gift. All due to the man who now smiled at her.
“Hey, Callie. You okay?”
She pushed back her emotion, managing a smile, wishing she was better at hiding her feelings. Deck didn’t miss a twitch or a blink. She had good news, so she focused on that. “I’m fine. Very fine, actually.”
“Yeah?” He lifted the saddle onto Brandy, then held the pommel, looking at her across the horse.
“I got the word from the investigators. The fire has been declared accidental. Electrical, complicated by accelerants. They found no evidence of deliberate ignition. It looks like Taylor didn’t start it. He just covered it up.”
“So you’re cleared. That’s great, Callie.” He sounded as relieved as she felt.
“Yeah. It is. Now the insurance companies will wrangle over who pays what. It’ll be a while before a check appears, but at least the money is coming.”
“And my loan will tide you over until then?”
She nodded. “But we should be able to pay you back sooner than I thought. Valhalla’s supposed to send a check, Finn says. A lawsuit got settled in their favor, freeing up some cash. I can’t believe I ever thought they might have started the fire. Taylor made me suspect everyone.”
“You were scared. And under pressure. It’s understandable.”
“I’m not sure what we’ll do about the back acres. If the ballot measure passes we might sell. From what I’ve gathered, a complicated purchase/swap with Tucson puts the river acres into the state preserve. The point is there will be far more money than Taylor offered me. I can’t believe he was that greedy.” She glanced at Deck. “Yeah, yeah, I know you told me so, but he wasn’t like that in high school.”
“People change.”
“He did, that’s for sure. Anita’s going to work with me on the river issue. I like that the acres would stay wild.”
“Me, too, Callie. That’s all to the good.”
“Yeah. Have you heard what’s going to happen to Taylor?”
“So far, he’s been charged with tampering with evidence. There might be more charges, certainly about the misuse of the federal grant, depending on who decides to come clean.”
“He’ll go to prison?” The idea sounded terrible, even though he’d done bad things. She’d declined to press charges for his assault on her.
“Who knows? He’s been stopped. That’s the main thing. Tad Renner’s been appointed interim police chief. I made sure the mayor did that. If I have any say, he’ll get the job for good.”
“That’s great.” She hesitated. “Are you thinking about running for mayor yourself?”
He shrugged. “I’ve got some decisions to make, I guess.” For a moment he looked completely lost, and she wanted to hug him and tell him it would be all right, though that was stupid. How could she know anything would be all right?
The look was gone as quickly as it appeared. Deck had always been self-contained. It made her sad for him.
“You ready? Horses are set.” He looked her up and down. “You look good.” She got the thrill she always got when he looked at her. Would it ever go away?
He adjusted the cinch on Brandy. Ranger lifted his head up and down, as if to hurry them on.
Soon, they were riding side by side toward the river to enjoy their last sunset together. As they traveled, Deck filled her in on practical issues about the cattle and the upcoming sales.
Soon they headed up the narrow trail up the hill, Callie in front. At the top, their horses stood shoulder to shoulder and Callie looked out over her family’s land. “It’s so beautiful.”
“Yeah.”
She turned and saw Deck had been looking at her.
He cleared his throat and shifted his gaze. “How’s your dad?” he asked.
“Better, now that he’s only taking one set of meds.” She paused. “You know, you were right about us protecting each other. Around him, I’m the eternal cheerleader. It’s like I never stopped trying to keep him from crying after Mom died.”
He nodded.
“We have to quit it. We’re missing too much about each other’s lives. We’re both adults. Like you said, we’re sturdier than we think.”
“Sounds wise of you.”
“You realize, don’t you, that if I’d known Dad was willing to sell the ranch, you’d have the Triple C right now and I’d never have come out here?”
“But we’d have missed all this.” Deck moved his hand between them, trying to joke, but she saw pain in his eyes.
She fought her own sadness. “We may still sell, depending on how the next year goes, so, if you’re interested…”
He laughed. “You’re out of my price range now. I wanted a ranch, not a resort. After that, I wanted to help you and Cal.”
“You’ve had our backs all the way.” She swallowed. “You’re a good person, Deck. You deserve…so much.”
“When do you leave?” he asked, shaking off her praise.
“As soon as I can. We’re at a standstill until we start the rebuild. I’ll fly out when I’m needed, but I should get back. Stefan’s impati
ent to buy me out, and I need to jump on that opportunity I was telling you about.”
“Jessica’s taking over?”
“For now. If it’s too much for her, I’ve talked with the manager of a Palm Springs resort, who would be great.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it handled. You need to start looking for a field manager to replace me. I’d like to move on.”
“Sure. That makes sense.” Her throat closed, so she looked away, out over the Triple C. “I’ll miss this place.” The sunset was now deep purple and gold. Surrounded by this wild beauty, she couldn’t help but feel so alive.
“Will you?” He steadied his gaze on her face.
“Yes. Very much.” She would miss him, too, which was the question in his eyes. “Are you sorry, Deck?”
He waited a long moment before he answered. “No. It hurts like hell, but it was worth a try.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. He cleared his throat. “You?”
“Not sorry at all.” She’d never hurt so much in her life.
“I know you think I’m hiding,” he added, “that I’m settling for less, but—”
“That wasn’t fair of me. We chose different lives.”
“And what I said about you running away—”
“Sometimes I do. But not this time. And you’re right about missing things when you go too fast. From now on, I’ll take my time—smell the roses, check out the sunset or at least the skyline. I liked seeing the world through your eyes, Deck. I just…” She had to say it. “I wish you would let yourself want more.”
“And I wish you would want less.” His smile was so sad.
“That sums it up, huh?”
“It does.” They were silent, pondering the truth that kept them apart. “Listen,” Deck said in a tone signaling a business topic. “I’ll be taking down that sold painting when we get back to the house. The buyer’s picking it up tonight.”
“Sure. And if you want to take the rest down, Deck, we’ll replace them with something. I shouldn’t have forced you.”
He shrugged. “It didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would.” He looked away. “So, I bet you’re looking forward to getting back to the city.” Another subject change.