Cowboy Justice

by Patricia Rosemoor

  “Gray?” Jasper popped off his stool and leaned across the bar to grab Bixler’s shirtfront. “You know where my boy is, you’d better tell me!”

  “Whoa! I’m talking about Cash Abreu.”

  Instantly deflated, Jasper let go of Bixler’s shirt and sank back to his seat, only then noticing the two hulks who’d moved in on him. Bodyguard types. Bixler gave them the high sign and they backed off.

  Jasper ran his hand through his hair. “Cash tell you he’s my son?”

  “I do my homework.”

  “But what’s he got to do with you?”

  “He suggested we become partners in taking over Matlock Construction.”

  “Bastard!”

  “He is that, isn’t he?” Bixler agreed. “But he is willing to buy, while I... Well, I’ve lost interest—in Matlock Construction, anyway.”

  “What else is there?”

  Bixler was relighting his cigar. He puffed and puffed, making Jasper wait until his skin crawled.

  Finally, the other man said, “Let’s you and me talk about Matlock Ranch.”

  TAKING A DEEP BREATH, Marlene rehearsed what she was going to say, but all the words flew from her mind when the door opened and she found herself facing Luna Abreu, who’d been her friend once, long ago.

  “Marlene, come in. Any word on your son?”

  She shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Luna told her, taking her hand.

  “I’ve always had a spot for Gray in my heart.”

  Marlene’s eyes stung. “I know he feels the same for you.”

  “You want to see Cash.”

  “Please.”

  “Come with me.”

  The walk through Cash’s house was one of the longest Marlene had ever taken. The rooms blurred together. Suddenly she was in his office. Cash was on the phone, and it sounded as if he was closing some kind of big money deal.

  “Tomorrow, then,” he finally said, hanging up the phone. “Marlene.” If he was surprised to see her, he didn’t show it. “Any news?”

  She shook her head and wrapped her arms around her middle.

  “I’ll leave you alone,” Luna said and turned away.

  Cash rose and indicated a small couch near the fireplace. “Please, sit.”

  “No. I’m fine.” Before she lost her nerve, Marlene said, “I’m here to sell you my half of the river property.”

  “Marlene—”

  “Please. For Gray. Jasper won’t budge on this, Cash. He won’t let go. He cares more for that cursed land than our son. I don’t know how else to save him.”

  “I can’t do it, Marlene.”

  “Can’t? Or won’t?”

  “Won’t, then—”

  “Oh, my God, what am I going to do?” she wailed, all hope lost.

  She’d made Sam the same offer, but he’d told her he couldn’t get his hands on the money for a few days. A few days would be too late.

  “Listen, take it easy—”

  “‘Easy’? Gray is your brother!”

  “That’s why I can’t buy the land from you. It’s his heritage, and it would be like my stealing from him.”

  “What does it matter who owns the land if my son is dead!”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “You’re right, I don’t!” Marlene cried, backing away from him. “I don’t understand why I’m going to lose my only child.”

  With that she scurried out of the room.

  “Marlene, you’re not going to lose him!” Chase called after her. “Not if I can help it.”

  But she closed her ears to that lie and to any others he might try to tell her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Some idiocy prompted Reine to swing by the old chile mill on her way home, near sundown. The four-by-four was sturdy enough to get over any terrain, though her back was another story. The shocks on the old vehicle were history. She only drove to the mouth of the canyon before getting out and walking.

  The long shadows that preceded nightfall filled the space, making it appear as depressed as she felt.

  She’d failed Gray.

  Cash had failed her.

  Or rather, he had betrayed her. Betrayed them.

  All for one and one for all...

  Had the oath always been a lie?

  With each step, memories cascaded over her until she was surrounded by the past. Every rock, every tree, every scurry of some unseen animal reminded her of Cash.

  This had been their childhood playground.

  The site of their initiation into adulthood.

  Once, this had been the most significant place in her heart. Now, the sight of the abandoned mill nearly did her in.

  Her pulse jagging wildly, she decided to go inside anyway. Perhaps by revisiting the haunt where she’d lost her virginity to Cash—not to mention where Uncle Jasper had caught them together and had nearly killed Cash in his fury—she would be able to expurgate him from her soul.

  But the very act of entering the building sent her emotions reeling. Every inch of the familiar space made her think about him. About her own foolishness in opening herself up to him again. About his being the only man she’d ever loved.

  She’d never stopped—not once through all those lonely years.

  She’d never even given another man a fair chance.

  Rather, she’d vested herself in work that was satisfying, and in the little family she had.

  Now everything had changed.

  Aunt Marlene and Uncle Jasper—her surrogate parents—were at odds with each other, might even divorce. Gray—closer than a first cousin, more like a brother—was gone, maybe for good. To get him back safely, the ranch would have to be divided, even as were the hearts of its owners.

  She feared nothing would ever be the same again.

  Everything really had changed, Reine thought with a lump in her throat; all but her work—and that would still be waiting for her. When this was over, she would throw herself into it completely. She would lose herself in helping other people’s children rather than the ones she didn’t have. Would probably never have.

  Most important, she would try to forget that Cash Abreu ever existed.

  Blindly staring into the room, she suddenly focused on what looked like some refuse in one corner. Frowning, she drew closer until she could make out a bedroll laid out as if it had been recently used.

  And, unless she was crazy, she smelled the lingering odor of food. Tamales? And something far less tempting—stale cigar smoke.

  Someone had been using the old mill for shelter and might be returning at any time.

  Uneasy, not up to a confrontation of any sort, Reine had barely decided to leave when she noticed something else that was strange. Frowning, she crossed the few yards to the bedroll and stooped down to retrieve a piece of rope two yards or so in length. Odd. Then she saw another piece.

  Reaching for it, she had the weirdest feeling. Indeed, she discovered the rope had been split in two—shredded in two. And on the floor next to the bedroll, lay a rock.

  She ran a finger along its sharp edge....

  Suddenly, she realized she’d stopped breathing and gasped for air.

  Her imagination was running wild.

  Could it be?

  Rising on shaky legs, Reine peered around into every dark corner. She blinked as if she were seeing things when her gaze lit on another discarded object.

  A man’s hat.

  She stood and stared for a moment, before moving to pick it up. Her hands shook as she turned it to inspect the band. Even before her gaze lit on the small pin—a silver feather—she knew the hat was Gray’s!

  Touching something that belonged to her cousin was almost as good as touching the man himself. Her mind worked furiously as she considered the possibilities. Suddenly, a weight lifted from her soul.

  He’d been here—right here—all along!

  And from the looks of it, he’d escaped. And from the smell of it, fairly recently.<
br />
  Then where was he?

  Why hadn’t he gone straight for the house?

  His hat in her hands, she ran from the building, screaming, “Gray!” Her voice bounced throughout the canyon, coming back in a hollow echo to mock her.

  Of course he was on his way home. Maybe he’d arrived there while she’d been talking to Tobiah.

  Her step far lighter than it had been on the way in, Reine retreated, but still she continued scouring the dimly lit canyon for any further signs of her cousin. Cash had taught her how to track long ago. She spotted prints made by horses along the streambed, from when she and Cash had ridden in, no doubt. But nothing made by a human.

  Still, she continued to keep her eyes open and, halfway to the four-by-four, spotted some brush that had been crushed as if a person had run through it from the hillside to the trail. She checked the ground more closely: rocks spewed in every direction, an indentation caused by a boot heel.

  Her breath catching in her throat, she moved faster, unable to match the much longer stride she imagined she followed—a stride made by someone tall.

  Gray?

  Then boot prints were obliterated by a horse’s hooves churning up the ground. Someone chasing him?

  Her imagination taking off now, her heart began to thump as she passed her vehicle and saw where the horse had seemed to stop before wandering off to the hills on her right.

  Surely Gray had gotten away.

  She prayed to God that he would be waiting for her at the house.

  But her vigilance was nearly her undoing, for she refused to go back until she could follow the tracks no longer. As the last dim light faded, she came to a place where it looked as if someone had fallen.

  It was already too dark for anything but her imagination, and Reine refused to give her immediate suspicion credence.

  Gray was all right, she told herself. He had to be.

  She nearly flew back to the four-by-four, thinking to head for the house and driving breakneck foolish. When a particularly large rut slammed her teeth together so hard she thought her jaw went out of joint, she got hold of herself, slowed down and made toward a road that was the long route home, but would be infinitely easier on the vehicle and on her.

  The longer drive gave her extra time to think.

  Did she really want to raise her aunt’s and uncle’s expectations and at the same time worry them to death if she explained it all? For all she knew, either one of them might be reckless enough or desperate enough to go out now and try to find Gray, which surely would lead to disaster.

  She couldn’t say a word—not to them.

  Then what should she do?

  She couldn’t wait around indefinitely in the hope that Gray would show. Waiting while doing nothing would make her crazy. And she couldn’t keep this to herself, either. Only one course was left to her, Reine knew, if she didn’t find her cousin at the house when she arrived.

  And like it or not, she was going to take it.

  CASH WAS STRETCHED OUT on the swing when he heard the vehicle approaching in the dark. He sat up and, in amazement, watched Reine get out of a rusty old four-by-four and stalk toward him, hat in hand. He would have bet it’d be a cold day in hell before she’d ever set foot on his place again.

  She did tend to surprise him at every turn.

  He was on his feet when she reached him and shoved the hat at his stomach without so much as a word.

  “Thanks,” he said wryly, “but I already have a few dozen of these.”

  “Bet you don’t!” she said defiantly. “That one’s Gray’s. The very one he was wearing when he disappeared!”

  Hope seared Cash as he grasped the felt brim tighter. “Come inside.”

  Reine hesitated for only a moment, then stormed into the house ahead of him. She went straight for the living room and threw herself into a safe chair rather than one of the couches where he might get too close.

  The hat still in his hands, Cash chose to remain standing. “So tell me everything, from the beginning.”

  “I went back to the chile mill—”

  “Why?”

  “I just did, all right?” Sounding thoroughly defensive, she frowned at him. “Don’t make a federal case of it. If you keep interrupting me, I’ll never get to the point.”

  “Fine,” he agreed, figuring there was another story there—one she would refuse to relate even if pressed. “Go on.”

  “This time I went inside and found that someone else had come and gone before me.”

  “You mean Gray?”

  She nodded. “The kidnapper was keeping him there.”

  “Define ‘keeping.’”

  “As in being left tied up on a bedroll. It looked like he used a rock to saw through the ropes.”

  “If he got away, then where is he?”

  “Not at the house.” Her frustration was evident in the terse reply. “I don’t have a clue.”

  Cash thought about it. “Hiding out?” Which meant the kidnapper was or had been hot on his trail.

  “I followed Gray’s tracks until it got too dark to see anything or go any farther.”

  “You tracked him?”

  “Why so surprised? You taught me.”

  “But after all these years?” Considering the proper city lady she’d become... “Who would have guessed?”

  “Memories don’t die just because some time passes.”

  And Cash knew Reine didn’t mean the tracking.

  “Back at you,” he said softly, regretting that he hadn’t gone after her earlier.

  “So what are we going to do?” she asked.

  Wanting in the worst way to pull Reine to her feet and kiss her breathless so she had nothing left in her with which to protest—to deny him—Cash stood firm and gripped Gray’s hat with both hands.

  “That depends on whether or not you’re willing to give me a clean slate.”

  He always went after whatever he wanted with a no-holds-barred kind of attitude. But she’d drawn a line in the sand and he’d let her.

  Not that he would accept that indefinitely. He didn’t care what it took to get her back. He’d figure out the right thing and do it.

  He loved her that much.

  “I meant about Gray.”

  He saw that she did and decided they could wait a while longer.

  “What about Gray?” asked a voice from the doorway.

  Surprised, Cash whipped around. “Mom, I didn’t know you were home.”

  “I just came in. You were so engaged, I guess you didn’t hear me. Now, about Gray...?”

  “Reine found the place where the kidnapper was keeping him hostage. He got away.”

  “But we don’t know where to,” Reine piped in, pushing herself up from the chair. “He didn’t go back to the house, because I checked.”

  “He’s got to be hiding out somewhere.” In his mind’s eye, Cash visualized the territory that once had been as familiar to him as breathing. “But why?”

  “Obviously, he knows someone is on his trail,” Reine said, sounding reluctant.

  It was the same conclusion he’d drawn.

  “Or maybe he’s hurt,” his mother said, sounding deeply worried, “and can’t make it back to the house.”

  That was something Cash didn’t want to consider, not when they’d just gotten their first real break. Or rather, Reine had.

  “So where has Gray been all this time?” Luna asked.

  “The abandoned mill.”

  Her dark eyes widened. “On Matlock land. Pretty bold.”

  Bold, indeed, Cash thought. And yet, who would have thought he’d been right under their noses all this time. Then it hit him.

  “My God, we were there,” he said, stunned by the fact. “We were at the mill Friday. We didn’t look for him there...didn’t think...”

  “Don’t,” Reine said. “I’ve already covered that territory. No way could we have guessed.”

  “I wonder if he knew.”

  His mother asked Rein
e, “How long ago did you say you discovered where he’d been held?”

  “Only an hour or so.”

  Her expression changing subtly, Luna just nodded.

  “I suppose you couldn’t tell how long he’d been gone,” Cash queried.

  “Not really. But I don’t think it was all that long, not with the smells and all.”

  “What kind of smells?”

  “Food, mostly. Tamales, I think.”

  “Oh, dear,” Luna said suddenly. “I’m getting so forgetful these days.” She headed for the door. “I need to take care of something.”

  “Now?”

  Her smile looked a bit forced to Cash when she said, “I won’t be long.”

  With no further explanation, his mother headed out of the house. Cash just stared after her. Before he could dwell on how oddly she’d been acting lately, Reine came up behind him.

  “So what are we going to do about Gray?”

  “Pick up his trail and find him, I hope.”

  “Now?”

  “I figure daybreak will do.”

  Although he had something else in mind—some—thing he wanted to do before then—he wasn’t about to tell her. She’d insist on coming, and he didn’t need to worry about her back in addition to his own.

  AT ABOUT MIDNIGHT, Cash left Akando in a sheltered blind with a warning to keep silent. The horse had thrown up his big head, as if he’d understood. Though Cash was already wearing a sidearm, he took with him a rifle for good measure, and a mag light clipped to his gun belt. He believed in being prepared.

  To that end, he moved silently through the brush that limned the canyon’s hillside, all the while keeping his eyes and ears open to any movement, any sound. But there was nothing except the gusting wind to spook him or the horse.

  A weather front was moving in—of thick gray clouds overhead chased the moon. He sniffed the air, heavy with the moisture of coming rain. The prediction had been for an early morning shower, but he knew a drenching would come sooner.

  A coyote howled its displeasure. No doubt he didn’t want to get wet, either.

  The mill came into view. Cash stopped and waited, patiently, expectantly. He wouldn’t put it past the bastard who’d kidnapped Gray to return for some forgotten item.

  There was no sign of life.