by Linda Conrad
Son of a gun. Someone had obviously been standing under this tree having a cigarette—and sometime in the last fifteen minutes, too.
Cinco growled out a string of curses. How stupid of him not to believe her. Angry at himself and afraid for Meredith's safety, Cinco gritted his teeth and stormed back toward the house.
He vowed that would be the very last time he'd take any kind of chance with her safety. From now on she'd be watched night and day. No matter what she thought.
Meredith had quietly done what he'd ordered because she could see his concern and panic over her welfare. She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that, but she would let him fuss over her until he calmed down. His pride at having such a secure place had obviously just taken a beating.
For the next couple of days, Cinco barely let Meredith out of his sight, making her stick by his side every minute. As he attended to his ranch chores, she was right there alongside him. During the hours that Cinco searched the Net for Rourke on his security firm's computer, she kept busy on another monitor playing computer games. To top it all off, a cowboy had been stationed outside her window at night.
But the days passed without incident. And there was absolutely no sign of the cigarette-smoking shadow. This afternoon Meredith found herself in the Gentry kitchen helping Lupe whip up a new recipe for cherry cake. Cinco sat at the polished cedar table, testing recipes by licking the mixing spoons with their sweet batter. Meredith hadn't thought about herself belonging in a kitchen, since she'd never spent much time in one. But helping and chatting with Lupe soothed her somehow and certainly made the hours pass more quickly. She'd discovered that Lupe, the housekeeper on the Gentry Ranch for the past twenty years, was kind-hearted, easy-going and extremely competent in the kitchen. The older woman was almost as round as she was tall. Meredith loved the way Lupe's brown eyes twinkled when she thought Cinco had been teasing either of them.
Just as the cake finally went into the oven, Abby plowed through the kitchen door. "Cinco, here you are," she said roughly. "I've been looking all over. We need your help."
Cinco stood, in what appeared to be an automatic movement. "Calm down. Have a glass of water. You found me."
Abby placed a hand against her chest and took a deep breath. As everyone stood around waiting for Abby to speak, Meredith decided that if the girl was going to get a drink of water it would be up to her to do it. She went to the cabinet and retrieved a glass, filling it quickly and handing it to Abby.
"Thanks, Meri, but I'm fine. Just a little out of breath from hurrying," Abby told her.
She took a swallow anyway, then faced her brother. "We're not in any real trouble, but Jake is in a bind and he wanted to know if you'd be willing to help out on the ranch this afternoon." She placed the glass on the counter. "He sent four of the hands to Amarillo yesterday to pick up the new bulls. They won't be back until tomorrow night. This morning Jim-Ed Bingham slashed his hand on some barbed wire and now Lawrence Hutchins has come down with the flu."
Abby made a face. "I was helping him throw hay bales when he lost his breakfast. Ugh."
Cinco rolled his eyes. "And…"
Abby jammed her fists on her hips. "Well, it wouldn't hurt you to offer your services in our time of need," she scolded him. "Jake's short of help, and one of the pilots on his rounds just spotted a yearling down a gully, looking like it was most anxious to find its way out. The pilot was concerned that the pack of coyotes we've been chasing might be undercover nearby just waiting for dark. He said the colt's acting spooked like he knows they've got him pinned."
"Does Jake want me to go out there and see what I can do for the yearling?" Cinco suggested.
"Well, yeah. If it's not too much trouble for the big ranch manager to get off his duff."
Cinco ignored his sister's sarcastic remark. It was typical of the teasing that went on between them.
He started toward the mudroom, then turned around to Abby. "Whereabouts is this gully? Will we need to saddle a couple of mares?"
Meredith took note of the "we" he'd used, and waited for the bad news.
"No. It's only a few hundred yards off of the dirt road in the far pasture of section seventeen," Abby told him. "Take a pickup, but Jake can't spare me to go with you. Use the radio to contact the pilot, he'll give you directions once you get out there." She turned to leave.
"Oh, I didn't expect you to go, darlin,'" he called after Abby as she went through the mudroom. "Meredith will ride shotgun." He turned to Meredith then. "Come on, sugar. Get your coat and hat. We have work to do."
Damned controlling cowboy, Meredith fumed. But she'd expected as much, so she said goodbye to Lupe, asked her not to cut the cake without her, and headed for her coat and hat.
An hour later, as the sun hit its high point for the day, Meredith found herself bouncing along on the pickup's front seat while she used the radio to talk to the pilot flying over their heads. A swift wish that she could be the one floating on the air currents instead of knocking around on this dusty, potholed range came into her mind. But she banished it.
Cinco pulled up a few feet from where the pilot's directions had led them. He quickly opened the cab door and stepped down into the scrub-filled pasture.
"Dang, jughead yearling," he grumbled as he slammed the door and went to the bed to pick up some rope.
When Meredith came around the truck with a questioning look on her face, he explained. "Sheep are stupid enough to get themselves stuck in gullies … they even fall off sheer cliffs on occasion. But horses are supposed to be smarter, or we wouldn't use these rough pastures for the yearlings."
"There are sheep on the ranch?" she asked in amazement.
"You've watched too many old Western movies, sugar," he drawled. "Ranches as big as the Gentry make better use of the land than in the old West. We raise sheep, cattle, even goats on the worst of the hillsides. The ranch makes a buck with whatever we can raise, grow or pump out of the ground."
He dragged a coil of rope from the box in the truck's bed and headed toward the gully, with Meredith right behind him. "As a matter of fact, we just leased two of the sections out to a wind farmer."
"Huh?"
He smiled over his shoulder. "They harvest electricity from windmills. Wind is one thing we've got in abundance."
"I'm amazed. I never knew all this went on," she said.
Cinco tamped down on the smug feeling he'd gotten when he heard the new respect in her voice. He wasn't sure why it seemed so important for the ranch to impress her; she was leaving as soon as the feds found Rourke, anyway. When he'd called them about the smoking man, they'd assured him that Rourke could not be nearby.
When they reached the edge of the shallow gully, he spotted the sleek, raven-black colt who'd gotten himself wedged in between a couple of boulders. Cinco had no trouble getting a loop around his neck, but then noticed that the colt was favoring his left hoof.
On closer inspection, he found a small, bleeding cut on the left foreleg. Shoot.
He turned to Meredith. "I have to doctor this cut. Can you hold his rope while I go back to the truck? He's a little skittish, so talk to him. Try to keep him calm."
She looked nervous and skittish herself, Cinco noted. But she valiantly took the rope's end and turned to face the colt, who immediately began flicking his ears and tail in a sign of distress.
Cinco retrieved the emergency vet box from the truck and made it back to her side in record time.
Meredith was still facing the colt as she ran her hand down its neck. Cinco could hear her whispering softly in the animal's ear, and he noticed the colt seemed soothed by the sound.
"Good job," he murmured as he came up behind her. "You seem to have him mesmerized." Just like you've done to me, Cinco thought.
She looked over her shoulder. "Isn't he just as cute as the dickens? Do you know he quieted right down when I talked to him? He was only scared and lonely, I guess."
Cinco shook his head. Amazing. Two scared and lonely beings h
ad found each other and had apparently made friends.
"Well, you keep a good hold on him while I tend to his leg wound," he said. "Then we'll lead him up and out of this gully where he can be rescued in earnest."
"What's his name?" she asked while he opened up the vet's first-aid kit.
"We don't name the yearlings. They all have numbers and brands, but we don't give them names until gelding time in the spring. Besides, they'll become either working horses or studs. They're not pets."
But as he bent to his task he glanced up and saw the uptight ice queen, who was supposedly petrified of animals, hugging her new friend.
"This one, however," he began as he cleared his throat. "Will probably forever be called Dickens."
Meredith twisted around to look at him. "Dickens? Really?"
He shrugged. "It's as good a name as any."
The whole time while he'd doctored the colt's wound Meredith cooed and petted her new buddy. When it came time to go to the barn for a horse trailer so they could bring him in to have the vet take a look at his injury, Meredith insisted that one of them stay with the colt.
Cinco didn't like the idea of being separated from her for any reason, so he used the cell phone and called Abby. His sister had just finished the last of her chores and agreed to bring a trailer out to them.
Meredith was pleasantly tired and full of enthusiasm when she and Cinco finally walked through the kitchen door later that evening. The ranch was beginning to look different to her. At the head of the stairs, the two of them split up to take showers and change.
A few minutes before supper, she hurried down the stairs hoping to find Lupe in the kitchen alone. She wanted to ask her some questions about the man who ran the ranch.
As she'd hoped, Lupe was still busy frosting the cherry cake. "Sit and talk awhile, hija."
Meredith wasn't entirely sure what Lupe had just called her in Spanish—she thought it might mean daughter. But it sure sounded friendly and warm, making Meredith smile inside. She sat down at the kitchen table and watched Lupe work.
"Can you tell me a little about Cinco?" Meredith asked.
Lupe didn't stop wielding the large flat frosting knife but did turn to raise an eyebrow at the question.
"Oh, I know he's basically a good man," Meredith quickly added. "And that he's a security nut. But … what was he like as a boy? What made him who he is?"
Lupe smiled and looked toward her cake project. "Cinco was a regular ranching boy. One of the best when it came to getting along with the animals. His parents thought for a while he'd want to be a veterinarian." She shook her head. "Then his father brought a computer home to do the ranch bookkeeping when Cinco was about twelve or thirteen. Changed the boy's ideas."
Lupe brought the mostly empty frosting bowl to the table and set it in front of Meredith. "Want to finish it off?"
Meredith hesitated only a second. She scraped a knife around inside the bowl and licked at the resulting sweet, pink blob. "Tell me about Cinco's parents."
The older woman's face lit up. "Great parents … wonderful people. It would take me a year to tell you how well loved they were in this county." She put a stainless steel lid over the cake.
Meredith swallowed her last bite of frosting. "What really happened to them?"
"There's been lots of rumors over the years," Lupe whispered as she sat down next to Meredith. "It's been almost twelve years now, but I remember things like they were yesterday. Something strange was going on with them for a couple of months before they disappeared."
Lupe looked around the room and continued. "They got phone calls at odd hours of the night … and from strangers. They took two or three trips off the ranch with the family's lawyer, Señor Ray Adler. And at the time, I couldn't remember when they'd gone away so often without the children."
"How did they die?"
"No!" Lupe shook her head violently. "Disappeared … while on a sailing yacht belonging to Señor Adler. I don't think Cinco ever did really believe that they were dead. The family had a memorial service and put markers out in the family graveyard … but the bodies were never found."
"That was twelve years ago?" Meredith asked. "How old were the kids?"
"Abby was only twelve … pobrecita. Callan was a senior in high school, and Cinco…" Lupe sighed. "At nineteen, Cinco was far away at school, learning more about those computers of his. When it happened, he came home to become the man of the family, to run the ranch and take care of his brother and sister."
"All by himself?" Meredith asked incredulously.
"He had me," Lupe said, bristling. "And he had Señor Adler to help with the paperwork … and Jake Gomez, the ranch foreman, who's been like a second daddy to Abby."
Meredith couldn't imagine how hard that must have been on the nineteen-year-old Cinco. No wonder he was so hung up on security issues. Poor guy.
Just then, the poor guy in question appeared at the bottom of the stairs. "Hey there, darlin's. Dinner ready?"
He looked spectacular—and anything but poor. His hair was still wet from his shower, and he'd slicked it back off his forehead. A new stiff pair of jeans hugged him in all the right places, and the T-shirt he wore stretched tightly across his muscular chest, leaving not much for someone to imagine. But Meredith's imagination ran wild.
Meredith shook herself loose from the chair to rise on wobbly legs. She took a deep breath and wished she hadn't, as the scent of his spicy aftershave overpowered the smell of Lupe's beef stew. Get busy, she scolded herself. Hide what the sight and smell of him did to her body.
Lupe rose as well. "Help Meredith set the table, son. Everything is ready and waiting."
After supper Meredith washed, Cinco dried and Lupe put the dishes away. The whole thing was so warm and homey Meredith found herself wishing it would go on forever.
The door from the mudroom opened and Abby strolled in. "Hey, all. Dinner over?" Going straight to the counter, she lifted the lid of the cake plate. "Yum. Can I have a piece?" She ran her finger through the icing that laced the edges of the platter.
Lupe shooed her over to the table. "Sit, like a real lady. I'll bring you some on a plate … with a fork."
Abby sat and looked up at Cinco. "Got another favor to ask, bubba."
Cinco dried the last of the silverware and put it into a drawer. "Oh? What now?"
"Well, Jake sent the new ranch vet off with the boys to fetch the bulls. Seems he didn't anticipate any emergencies for the time being." Abby took the fork Lupe handed her and watched as she cut the cake. "And old Doc Wright is off at some kind of convention."
At Cinco's questioning look, Abby continued explaining the problem. "You did a real good temporary patch-job on the colt today. He'll hold till tomorrow, Jake says." Abby took a bite of cake and smiled. "But something's gone sour with Maggie. Her foal isn't due for a week or more, but Jake says she's showing signs of early labor. He wants to know if you can sit with her tonight. Someone needs to be there … just in case. And everyone else is tied up."
Meredith knew how weary Cinco had to be, but when he agreed to sit with the horse, she wasn't at all surprised.
"We probably won't have to do much but just be here with her," Cinco told Meredith as they led Maggie into the foaling barn. "Jake gave her a little something to calm her down that won't interfere with labor, if that's what's going on."
It was nearing ten o'clock when Cinco showed her into the waiting room next to the labor stall where they'd taken Maggie. He explained to Meredith about the foaling barn and how they had it set up to be comfortable for both animals and humans during long waits.
But because it was so early in the season, Maggie would be the only one here. And that meant they would have the run of the place. The little waiting room had a table and chairs, a couch and a countertop kitchenette with coffee, a sink and stovetop. Underneath the counter, a minirefrigerator and a sound system had been built right in.
"All the comforts of home," Meredith commented. Cinco placed on the co
unter the basketful of food that Lupe had insisted they bring. "I wish I had the computer set up in here. This waiting business is so boring we usually just break out the cots and take catnaps to get through it." He indicated that Meredith should take off her jacket and have a seat on the comfortable-looking leather couch.
Before she did, Meredith helped stash the food in the refrigerator. "The couch does look inviting, and I see some magazines I haven't read." She plopped down and patted the leather next to her. "Sit awhile."
When Cinco collapsed beside her, she soon discovered that the couch—the whole darned room in fact—became way too small to breathe. Bad mistake.
* * *
Nine
« ^ »
"Sit down, darlin'. You're making me tired just watching you," Cinco yawned.
For a half an hour now, Meredith had paced the little waiting room while Cinco lounged on the soft sofa. He'd been hesitant to sit beside her when she'd first asked, but once he did, she jumped up and restlessly stalked the floor.
He watched as she rounded the table. She glanced his way and gave him a weak smile but never slowed her pace.
That did it. He stood and stretched. "Meredith, the intercom is on. Maggie is fine. Why don't you relax? I'm going to double-check on her and turn down the lights. When I return, let's try to get a little shut-eye."
When he reentered the room a few minutes later, Meredith was still standing with a mug in her hand, sipping the rest of the coffee he'd made earlier. As he came up to her, he noticed dark circles under her eyes and a slightly drawn expression on her face. She looked so exhausted all of a sudden that he wondered how she remained upright.
"Sit." He took the mug from her hand and set it on the counter. "Please."
She let him take the coffee, but she made no move toward the sofa. He put his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her around and led her there. When he went to flip off the overhead lights, the automatic night-lights came on, casting a warm glow. It wasn't until the lights had dimmed that Meredith finally sat down on the couch. He plopped down beside her again.