Ignoring her again, he went straight for Cash. “I was right from the first. You’re in the thick of it—the plan to get my spread.”
His inability to deny this kept Cash from responding.
Even so, Matlock grabbed a fistful of his shirtfront. “What did you do with my boy?”
Cash held himself in check so he wouldn’t respond in kind, but he was unable to hide his bitterness when he said, “You mean Gray?”
“I only have one son. You couldn’t accept that.” He jerked the material, pulling Cash closer. “You been doing your best to ruin me, but even I didn’t pin you for the lowlife you are!”
“Uncle Jasper, please!”
It took all Cash’s will not to strike out. He clenched his hands into fists but kept them at his sides.
His heart was pumping so hard he could barely hear Tobiah mutter, “Maybe we all better calm down here.”
“Get your hands off me,” Cash growled.
“Or you’ll what? You aren’t man enough to take me on face-to-face!” Matlock shouted, his own face redder than the New Mexican soil. “You go behind my back like some stinking yellow-belly, stealing bits of my company, ruining it a piece at a time, putting Matlock Construction in so deep a hole—”
“Which is called ‘business.’”
Matlock tightened his grip so they were practically nose to nose. “Business!” he spat. “I guess you expect me to believe your going after my spread is just business, too?”
They were so close that Cash could feel Matlock’s hot breath on his face. The perverse embrace reminded him of the only other time they’d had such intimate physical contact—when Matlock had caught him with Reine. Cash hadn’t fought back then either. Part of him had figured he’d had it coming. Reine had only been fifteen. Still, he’d disliked Matlock from that day forward—and that had been nearly a year before learning the truth of his parentage.
Then, he’d learned to hate the man.
Feeling the flush of raw emotion anew, Cash spoke through clenched teeth. “I’m warning you for the last time—let go!”
But Matlock was obviously beyond warnings.
“And because you haven’t figured out a way to get my land on the up-and-up,” he said, “you act like the dog you are and take your sickness out on my boy!”
Finally, Cash lost it. Quick as lightning, he broke the man’s grip on him and threw him to the ground, pinning him there, knees to his chest, one hand around the old buzzard’s throat.
“Cash!” Reine shouted.
Ignoring her protest as well as her ineffectual tugs at his shoulder, Cash tightened his grip enough to get Matlock’s full attention.
“Now you listen to me, old man. I don’t know what happened to Gray, but I intend to find out. Don’t try to interfere with me. And if I were you, I wouldn’t be making any more accusations against me, either. I would see you dead before harming one hair on Gray’s head!”
Jasper Matlock’s face was practically purple with rage when Cash finally moved off him and got to his feet. Reine raced to help her uncle up, with Tobiah right behind her, but when they grasped Jasper’s arms, he pushed them aside and rose on his own, gasping.
Cash braced himself for a counterattack that didn’t come.
Without another word, Matlock stormed past them all, launched himself into the saddle and rode off.
A choked sound got his attention. Reine. Her expression was accusing.
“How could you?” she demanded.
“How could I what?” he asked coldly. “Defend myself? I learned from the last time Matlock got rough with me, Reine—or is your memory so short?”
“God help me, I remember everything! I only wish I didn’t!”
She shoved by him, her shoulder glancing off his upper arm, spinning him around. He watched her spring up into the saddle and ride off after the uncle she obviously cared more for than she did him.
“Do You THINK WE’LL EVER see him again?” Marlene asked.
“Uncle Jasper?” He’d beaten Reine back to the house, had left his mount with one of the hands and had taken off again for parts unknown, this time in one of his four-wheel-drive vehicles. “Of course, we will.”
“Not him.”
Reine stopped folding linen napkins—they were engaged in busywork meant to keep them both sane—and took her aunt’s hands.
“Gray is alive, Aunt Marlene. You have to believe that.”
“You’re right, of course.”
So why didn’t the kidnapper call?
When she’d seen how agitated her uncle had been as he’d ridden toward them, she’d thought he’d received new information, and that they might finally have a way to move forward. Her aunt had dashed that hope. Uncle Jasper surely would have told her if he’d heard anything.
Marlene patted Reine’s hand and pulled away. Picking up the tablecloth she’d just folded, she placed it carefully in the buffet drawer.
“Why did Jasper leave the ranch?” she asked.
Reine had been hoping to avoid the subject, but she saw that was impossible if she didn’t want to worry her aunt further.
“He’s pretty upset. Cash was here, on the range with me, talking to Tobiah Hill. I thought maybe your foreman could tell us something we didn’t already know.” Of course, her uncle’s argument with a beautiful woman wasn’t something Reine was ready to share. “Anyway, Uncle Jasper found us and lost his temper the moment he set eyes on Cash.”
Marlene whipped around, looking distressed. “Oh, dear, is he all right?”
“Cash didn’t hurt him.”
“I meant Cash. This can’t be easy for him, with his loyalties torn the way they’ve been.”
“He’s a man, as Uncle Jasper keeps saying. He can take care of himself.”
“It may seem so on the outside. But he is human.” Marlene grasped the back of the formal dining chair and shook her head sadly. “I begged Jasper to make it right with him so many times over the years, but he never would.”
Reine gave her aunt credit for not hating Cash herself. Marlene had always been sympathetic toward him, and even more so since learning that he was her husband’s natural son—a child that Jasper had never wanted nor cared for. That Cash had tried to run Matlock Construction out of business didn’t seem to change her feelings on the subject.
“Maybe Cash wouldn’t have let him get close.”
“He is a lot like Jasper, isn’t he?” Marlene mused, echoing Reine’s own thoughts. “I only wish Gray were more like his father.”
Reine started. “You do?”
“A little more,” she amended. “He’s like me. Too open. Too forgiving. Too weak.”
“Aunt Marlene, Gray is not weak. And you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met!” Reine insisted. “You’d have to be, considering the man you chose to marry.”
“I didn’t, you know,” Marlene was quick to say. “Choose Jasper, that is. Papa did.”
“Your father picked out your husband?”
Reine had never met the autocratic grandfather who’d died shortly after she’d been born. Reine’s mother had left New Mexico to escape him, but she’d never shared this particular story with her daughter.
“Papa said I needed a strong man, one who was ambitious and attached to the land. He didn’t want me marrying someone who would sell off my inheritance the moment he died.”
Which, unfortunately, Reine’s own father had done to her mother to some extent by wasting whatever part of her trust fund he could get his hands on.
Marlene was saying, “Julio Valdez would have found some way to snap up the land in a heartbeat. He always claimed it should have been his in the first place, and he was tired of having to negotiate for water rights.”
Reine knew the marriage had not only doubled her uncle’s acreage but had given him direct access to the river, as well.
“Surely Grandfather could have made some legal arrangements to protect your heritage.”
“He did, but that’s not all he wa
nted. Papa liked to manage things, especially lives. He admired that trait in Jasper. Papa was right about him and the land, too,” Aunt Marlene continued. “Jasper wouldn’t think of selling off one foot of it. Not for anything. He did an awful thing to get what he wanted and he’s not about to let go. It’s always been the most important thing in his life.”
“After you and Gray.”
“It’s the most important,” Marlene insisted.
Reine didn’t argue.
She feared that her aunt might be right.
REINE WAS RELIEVED WHEN her uncle returned home in time for dinner. Not that she had an appetite. Too keyed-up, she just couldn’t sit around and wait any longer, but she hadn’t wanted to leave her aunt alone.
Now she wouldn’t have to.
After making certain Marlene had dinner preparations under control, she said, “I’m driving back to Santa Fe.”
“When?”
“Actually, right now.”
“Oh...” Unable to hide her disappointment, Marlene adopted a determined smile. “I suppose you have things you need to do.”
“A few.”
Like checking out that gallery and frnding the mysterious Selena.
“But I’ll be back sometime tomorrow,” Reine promised. “In the meantime, if you hear anything—”
“I’ll call.”
She kissed her aunt goodbye and considered looking in on her uncle before leaving. His office door was closed, however, shutting her out as surely as the man himself would. He hadn’t said a word to her since his return.
Let him be angry. She was angry. With him. With Cash.
Cash...
The vision of him pinning her uncle to the ground and appearing ready to strangle the life out of the man stayed with her all the way to her car.
Then, so had what he’d said—that he was going to find Gray.
How?
He knew nothing more than she... or did he?
She wondered if it had been an empty promise—words uttered in the heat of anger.
Reine remembered another embittered oath Cash had made at his daddy’s funeral. For years, now, he’d been doing his best to fulfill that one. So would he be any less serious now?
Too bad he hadn’t agreed to help her in the first place.
Reine only hoped she wasn’t fooling herself in believing it was possible to save her cousin from some unknown fate. Gray had played a pivotal role in both their lives. Contrary to what he’d let her believe when she’d gone to ask him for his help, Cash had never forgotten. He’d merely been protecting himself by pretending Gray didn’t matter.
Now they were both alone—each too stubborn to seek out the help of the other.
Chapter Five
Friday evening
That evening, Cash didn’t know how long he sat across from the trazo where Reine made her home before making up his mind to leave his car and go in after her.
The small buildings with common walls and courtyards formed a continuous facade along the narrow side street in the old town. He opened the antique mesquite door that allowed him into a garden area whose fragrance immediately surrounded him, reminding him of Reine.
The sun was down, but it was still light enough to make out the wild display of poppies and asters, black-eyed Susans and buffalo berry. The courtyard was bursting with flora, including a large aspen tree alongside the wall. A brick pathway took him past a burbling fountain, cast-iron table and chairs, and terra-cotta planters filled with geraniums and assylium, straight up to the red brick single-story house.
Reine answered the door herself as he’d expected. Her surprise was evident in the way she stiffened and curled rose-tipped fingers around the wooden panel. Undoubtedly, she wasn’t eager to see him again.
“What are you doing here?”
“Looking for a Friday-night date.”
He slid his gaze over her. She’d switched to the restrained-if-feminine apparel she apparently preferred when not on horseback—a broomstick skirt and shirt buttoned up to the throat. The reserved attire made him yearn to explore the recklessness in her that he knew the clothing hid.
“You’ll do,” he murmured.
“What makes you believe I’d go anywhere with you?” she asked coolly.
Belying her tone, her color was rising to match the deep rose of her silk outfit.
“I thought you might be interested in checking out a certain gallery.”
“You’re planning on finding Selena tonight, too?”
“‘Too’?” he echoed, as if he hadn’t already guessed. He looked beyond her into the interior that appeared more inviting than she was. “Can I come in?”
But Reine stubbornly stood her ground. Apparently, she wasn’t letting him off the hook without making him squirm.
“How did you know where to find me?” she asked, her gaze narrowing suspiciously. “How did you even know that I’d left the ranch?”
“I have my ways,” he assured her, meaning a perfectly good set of eyes.
He’d been parked on the road edging Matlock Ranch, wondering whether or not he had it in him to brazen out another foray into forbidden territory to find her. He’d alternated between acting—which undoubtedly would have turned into a show—or simply calling her from the truck, using his cell phone. Of course, he’d known she could easily hang up on him. Therein had come his dilemma.
When he’d seen her car leave the property and turn onto the road, he’d been relieved of making a decision. Following her had been simple.
Then Cash had realized she’d been heading for Santa Fe. Figuring out her plans had been no challenge—they were obviously in sync. He figured she was planning to follow Tobiah’s lead. No way would she have left her aunt’s side otherwise.
“C’mon, Reine,” he wheedled, pressing in on her close enough to distinguish her light scent from that of the garden. “Don’t make me crawl.”
He didn’t miss her intake of breath or the flare in her eyes that she tried to hide by lowering her dark lashes.
She asked, “Does this mean we’re working together for Gray’s sake?”
And for my own, Cash thought, knowing he would have to appease her.
He nodded. “Okay, you got me. I’ve never been one to sit around and wait for something to happen.”
“All right, then. Come in. I can be ready in a few minutes.”
Cash raised his eyebrows. As far as he could tell, she was perfect now—hair coiled softly around a face so faultlessly made-up it looked natural. But he stepped inside without comment.
“You can wait in here,” she said, already heading for a short hallway.
He stared after her for a moment, dealing with the reaction she kept provoking in him, as if he were the randy schoolboy she’d once known. He couldn’t break the connection until she disappeared through another doorway—to her bedroom, no doubt. He forced himself to turn away before his imagination followed her inside.
The living room was cozy—with a brick fireplace flanked by mullioned windows, pine floor covered by a sisal rug, an old trunk/coffee table flanked by chairs upholstered in what looked to be Navajo rugs and a plain butter-yellow couch. A few pieces scattered here and there—baskets and pottery, a vase of fresh flowers and a bowl of cacti—reflected her simple, elegant taste.
The small, inviting room opened directly onto two nooks—a dining area in one direction, an office in the other.
He chose to explore the second.
Reine certainly had good taste, he thought, admiring the fine sugar-pine pieces.
Taking up one wall was a trastero with Mimbres patterns carved into the doors—frog, turtle, gecko and bear. He’d never seen anything quite like the cupboard. Neatly arranged bookshelves with a handtooled dimple adz crown stood opposite. And in between she’d placed a beautiful desk that caught his immediate interest.
Cash stooped to check out the mortise-and-tenon joinery, which would allow for expansion and contraction of the wood that had been carved with an El
Rey pattern. He admired the careful workmanship. A friend of his Uncle Nemesio’s did such work and he wondered if this piece had been crafted by the same man.
Rising, he was reminded of the odd exchange between his mother and Nemesio that morning. He couldn’t forget his uncle implying that Gray’s being dead might not be so bad....
He shook off the weird feeling the memory gave him and was about to leave the office area when a tooled leather-bound scrapbook on the desk caught his eye. He hesitated for only a second before switching on the tin lamp and flipping back the cover. Inside he found photographs and newspaper clippings. All were of kids, maybe ten to fifteen years old, who were at work in the community—hospitals and seniors’ homes, day cares and after-school programs.
Reine herself was in some of the photos, and he caught her name in a few of the articles.
“Reine Kendrick, founder of Populace, a community-service project, gives troubled teens a new perspective on life with something positive to fill up their after-school hours....”
He checked out dates. The scrapbook had been started in 1990 and was currently up-to-date. He did some quick math and realized she must have established Populace directly out of college.
Juvenile delinquents. Kids in trouble. She gave them an alternative to a future in jail.
Why hadn’t he known this about her? Why had he mistakenly assumed she would be content to live off her trust fund without purpose in her life?
Thoughtful, Cash closed the scrapbook and turned off the desk lamp.
He returned to the living room even as she called out, “Ready!”
He watched her swing back into the room, a Southwestern-print scarf draped over one shoulder, a small tooled-leather bag over the other. She seemed anxious, excited, a little unsure of herself.
“Did you drive by the plaza area before coming here?” she asked.
Every other woman he’d spent a moment with had Suddenly puled beside her.
He nodded, for the moment rendered speechless and breathless by his realization.
“Well? Did you place it?”
He forced himself to concentrate on what she was saying. “What?”
Cowboy Justice Page 6