Joe leaned on his saddlehorn and looked around. “So this is the site of the stampede that almost killed Freddy and Ry.”
“This is where everything began, when Thaddeus Singleton built the homestead, brick by brick, back in 1882.”
Joe swung down from the saddle. “I want to look around. Should I tie him somewhere?”
“Just drop the reins to the ground. Mikey will stay put. Unless there’s another stampede.” Leigh dismounted and tethered Pussywillow to a nearby mesquite before she walked over toward Joe.
He turned. “Think there will be another stampede?”
She paused and met his gaze. “If you’re implying I lured you out here to cause some accident to befall you, then come right out and say so, Officer.”
“No, I don’t really think that.” He walked over to the cracked concrete and gazed at it. A gray green lizard about eight inches long scurried across the surface, paused for a few lizard push-ups and scuttled away into the desert beyond the slab.
“This concrete hasn’t been here since 1882,” Joe observed.
“The concrete was poured in the thirties to help stabilize the house. Even though no one had lived in it for several years, the hands still used it as a place to get out of the sun or the rain. But by the sixties there was no roof to speak of, so it was abandoned to the elements.”
Joe wandered the perimeter of the ruin. “Why did Thaddeus pick this spot?”
“Supposedly because there wasn’t as much caliche here, and his wife Clara wanted a small garden. Dexter told me that. Clara didn’t die until a few years after Dexter and Belinda came to work at the ranch, so they both knew her.”
“What’s caliche?”
“Layers of mineral deposits hard as granite. I’ve seen my dad take a stick of dynamite to make a hole through it so he could plant a tree.”
Joe stood, his hands in his back pockets, and gazed around him. “Why wasn’t the next ranch house built here, then?”
“Privacy, I suppose. The son and daughter-in-law probably wanted some distance between themselves and the old folks. But Clara hung on to this place as long as she could, I’m told, even without plumbing and electricity. My grandfather said she cried when she was forced to move into the big house. I guess I can understand it.”
“I’m sure you can.” His gray eyes were assessing. “But I expect you’d do something more active than cry if you were put in the same position.”
“I am in the same position, as you very well know.”
“What if I said, right now, that I don’t want the True Love sold to developers,” he said quietly. “Would the sabotage stop?”
She matched him, squint for squint. “I have no idea.” She hesitated, but the question was too important not to ask it. “Now that you’ve seen some of the area, how do you feel about the sale of the ranch?”
“I have no idea.”
Frustration made her spin away from him and stare up at the mountains towering above them. “What colossal arrogance! The True Love has been nurturing families for over a hundred years, yet here you come, some city slicker from New York, and imagine you have the right to snap your fingers and relegate it to the bulldozers, all because you hold the almighty purse strings! I find that kind of irreverence incomprehensible.” She took a deep breath, knowing she had to cool it. She was already a prime suspect. An emotional outburst would tighten the noose around her neck.
Joe remained silent for several moments, as if allowing her to collect herself. “Well, at least we’ve established one thing.”
She turned back. “We have?”
“You’re not going to try and sweet-talk me into deciding to keep the ranch.”
She watched the flicker of amusement in his eyes. A sheepish smile made its way through her anger. “Guess not.”
“That’s a shame.”
Her heart, slowed from its angry pounding of a minute ago, began to beat to a brighter rhythm. “It is? Why?”
Joe’s mouth curved. “There’s a good chance you could have done it.” Turning away, he walked toward his horse and swung himself into the saddle.
* * *
JOE NOTICED that Leigh didn’t have much to say on the ride back. He helped her brush the horses and turn them into the corral, and all the while aware that she kept sneaking looks at him. Maybe she was regretting not trying to seduce him. Inadvertently she almost had, but he vowed she’d never know how close he came to pulling her into his arms at the homestead site. Her passionate defense of the ranch had colored her cheeks and lit dark flames in her eyes, making her nearly irresistible. But he did resist. She was too loyal to her ancestral home to be dismissed as a suspect. At the end of this investigation, someone would go to jail, and that someone could still be Leigh.
“If you’re up to it, we can go out again tomorrow and see more of the ranch,” she said as they drove back to the ranch house.
“That pond in Rogue Canyon sounds like a great place to take Kyle,” he said. “If there are some poles around, we might do a little fishing.”
“I can find you some poles, but I wouldn’t set my heart on taking Kyle up there yet. He’d have to ride a horse, and I’m not sure he’ll agree to it so soon. Just getting him down to the corrals will be a victory.”
“We’ll see.” Joe wondered if she really thought Kyle wouldn’t want to come, or if she wanted another crack at being alone with him now that he’d admitted his vulnerability to her charms. Joe was determined to take Kyle on that ride the next day. His son would be the perfect chaperon.
When they arrived at the ranch house, he reached for the door handle on the truck. “Thanks for the riding lesson,” he said as he climbed down. “In exchange, I’ll check that funny noise in the engine. Could be just a speck of dust in the carburetor.”
“That’s okay,” she said quickly, hopping to the dirt. “Duane can look at it later.”
“But I can look at it now.” He snared her with a glance across the truck’s dark blue hood. “Sort of even things up between us.”
“What’s the matter? Are you afraid to be indebted to me?”
“Maybe.”
She tossed him the keys. “You do make things tough on yourself, Officer. You can bring these back to me when you come in for lunch. And thanks.”
“Anytime.” The little unicorn’s horn bit into his palm as he caught the keys. He watched her walk away without a backward glance, her hourglass figure beckoning him with every step. At first he’d thought she didn’t want him nosing around her truck, but then she’d let him have the keys with such nonchalance he decided he’d been wrong.
After opening the hood, he started the truck and took off the air filter. He used his handkerchief to clean the butterfly valve on the carburetor and the hesitation in the engine seemed to go away. The whole procedure had taken less than five minutes, so he left the truck running and climbed back into the cab. The glove compartment contained the usual ownership and insurance papers, a few colored stones and a worn copy of a book called Creative Visualizations by somebody named Shakti Gawain. He sniffed the book. It smelled vaguely of incense, of mystery, of secrets. As he opened it, he felt that he was peering into the fascinating labyrinth of Leigh’s mind.
Glancing around to make sure no one noticed, he flipped through the book and read a few underlined passages. They spoke of going with the flow and not forcing issues, letting life unfold. Joe shook his head. Damned passive philosophy as far as he was concerned. It also didn’t fit with the type of person who would commit sabotage. He closed the book and put it back in the glove compartment, arranging everything as he’d found it. Then he turned off the engine and pocketed the keys, unicorn and all.
As he walked in the front door of the ranch house, the hum of voices from the dining room told him lunch was already in progress. He ducked into his room to wash up and noticed Kyle’s backpack lying open on his bed, his Star Trek figures strewn about. The kid had apparently spent some time in the room by himself playing with the plastic
toys when he could have been in the fresh air learning a new skill. Well, Joe would see that didn’t happen two days in a row.
When he reached the arched entry to the dining room, he noticed Kyle and Leigh sitting together at a table. Kyle’s fair head so close to Leigh’s honey-colored one made them look remarkably like mother and son. Had Kyle really been Leigh’s, he wouldn’t be so lacking in courage, Joe thought. Leigh had the heart of a lioness. She spotted him and spoke to Kyle, who swiveled in his chair and waved wildly.
“Over here, Dad!”
He strode over, determined to convince Kyle to go fishing with him the next day. There had to be some significant change in the way this vacation was going.
“Did you know Leigh’s horse is going to have a baby?” Kyle said before Joe could form the first part of his argument.
“Yes, I did, and I think—”
“I’m going down there with you guys tomorrow morning,” Kyle said. “I want to see that mother horse. Leigh said the baby could be born any day.”
Joe glanced at Leigh, who looked somewhat wise and smug, but then she had a right to, he supposed. He opened his mouth to tack on a suggestion for the fishing trip, but the exhortations from Leigh’s book drifted through his mind. Not that he believed in that stuff, but maybe this time he wouldn’t push for more just yet. He’d stick the fishing poles in the back of the truck, just in case, though.
“When you checked the truck, did you find anything?” Leigh asked.
He blinked, giving away far too much information for someone of Leigh’s perceptive abilities. “It was probably dust in the carburetor,” he said, digging her keys out of his pocket. “Seems okay now.”
“Thank you for investigating.”
He was sure she knew exactly what he’d been up to, poking around through her glove compartment, looking for anything that would shed light on the strange occurrences at the ranch. She was either innocent or very smart. Then there was the outside possibility she was both.
He turned to Kyle. “I’m going to pound the dents out of the car this afternoon. Want to help me?”
“Dexter and me, we were gonna play Junior Scrabble.” Kyle looked worried, as if he suspected this might not be the right response.
Joe swallowed his disappointment and sat down at the table with a determined smile. Go with the flow. “No problem, Kyle. What’s for lunch?”
* * *
THE AFTERNOON rain played havoc with Joe’s plan to pound the dents out of his car. He’d never seen a storm come on so fast. He barely had time to cover the broken window with a tarp before it hit, sluicing down as if from a giant bucket. Carrying his tools, he ran for cover under the front porch, only to watch his tarp blow away from the window and the rain pour in, drenching his seat covers. Then, as quickly as the storm swept in, it departed. Determined to finish the job, Joe trudged back out and worked in the mud for another half hour before the storm, growling like an angry dog, turned and headed back at him. This time, instead of running for cover, he continued to work as rain dripped from his hair, eyebrows and nose.
Pounding furiously on the caved-in steel, he didn’t hear anyone approach until Leigh yelled in his ear. He dropped the mallet in the ooze at his feet and whirled, his hand automatically going for his weaponless hip.
She leapt back and nearly fell in the muck. He grabbed her just in time, his fingers slipping, then tightening on the yellow raincoat she was wearing.
“You crazy idiot!” She shook away his grasp and adjusted her floppy yellow rain hat.
With her hair in a braid down her back and her rain boots peeking out from under her coat, she looked about twelve years old. He smiled in spite of himself. “A grinning idiot, no less! Don’t you hear that thunder? You could be struck by lightning out here!”
Apparently, she’d donned rain gear to come out in the thunderstorm to warn him. Probably for Kyle’s sake, he thought sullenly.
“I’m almost done!” he yelled back. “Five more minutes, tops!”
She grabbed him by the shoulders and tried to shake him, but she didn’t make much headway. “Didn’t you hear me? You could get hit!” A flash followed by an explosion of sound sharp as the crack of a rifle punctuated her statement. “Come inside this minute!”
The next flash nearly blinded him, and instinctively he grabbed her and pulled them both through the open door of the car onto the soggy driver’s seat as the crash made him temporarily deaf. When he could hear again, he realized his elbow was on the horn. Leigh was wedged on top of him as they sprawled half in, half out of the car. He didn’t think the bolt had struck the Cavalier, but if it had, at least the tires would have grounded them.
He moved his elbow and the horn stopped its blaring. The rain, too, seemed to lessen at the same moment. He looked into Leigh’s eyes, wide with shock. Her rain hat was gone, knocked into the mud at their feet, most likely.
“You’re right,” he murmured. “It’s dangerous out here.”
She opened her mouth, but no words came out, and she closed it again. She was so close, he could count each individual rain-damp eyelash and admire the subtle shades of gold and brown in her eyes. He watched her pupils widen with awareness as he cradled the back of her head and brought her the last two inches necessary to mold her lips to his.
With that velvet touch, he forgot the gearshift jabbing his right side and the rain soaking his jeans. He forgot that he should keep his distance from this woman who could be guilty of sabotage, who might monopolize his son, who might jeopardize his sanity with her crazy view of the world. There was only the soft, moist temptation of full lips that tasted of some exotic spice that his fevered brain couldn’t identify. But he wanted more. Much more. With a groan, he pressed deeper and she opened like a tropical flower in the heat of the jungle. He dipped his tongue inside her mouth and grew drunk with the pleasure he received there. Nothing mattered but this. So rich, so lush, so—
“What’s the deal, here?” boomed a voice from outside the car. “Leigh, what’re you doing hanging half-out of that heap of tin? You two look like a couple of sardines that refused to be canned!” The last was followed by a bark of laughter.
Leigh struggled out of Joe’s arms, and he let her go. Whoever the bastard was who’d ended that kiss would pay for it one day, Joe vowed.
“Well, hello, Eb,” Leigh said with a show of dignity that impressed Joe no end. She stood beside the car and straightened her raincoat. She offered no explanation, either, which Joe liked even more. “Ry and Freddy told me you were coming for dinner. I’d like you to meet Joe Gilardini.”
Joe hauled himself out of the car and held out his hand to Eb Whitlock, one of Ry’s prime suspects. He was a large man, dressed dramatically in a black shirt with silver embroidery on the yoke. A heavy silver and turquoise bolo tie hung around his neck and an equally large and expensive-looking buckle graced his expansive belly. Joe could understand why Ry wanted this guy to be the saboteur. There was a lot to dislike about Eb Whitlock.
“The third partner.” Eb flashed a set of large teeth and gave Joe a bone-crushing handshake. Joe crushed right back and had the satisfaction of seeing Eb wince. Eb retrieved his hand and adjusted his bolo tie, while managing to show off a silver and turquoise watchband at the same time. “I understand you’re a cop.”
“Was,” Joe said. “Now I’m just a private citizen, like the rest of you.”
Eb gestured toward the Cavalier. “Must not have paid you much.”
“I got by.”
“Come on into the house, Eb,” Leigh said, starting toward the flagstone walk, shiny with rain. “Dinner will be in a half hour, Joe,” she said over her shoulder.
“I’ll be there.” He would cherish every minute of putting Whitlock on the hot seat.
Leigh glanced at Eb as they started up the walk. “I was just having some Bengal Spice tea with honey. You’re welcome to join me.”
Bengal Spice with honey, Joe thought. So that was the exotic taste that had captivated him so. E
xcept he wasn’t sure it was entirely the tea she’d been drinking that had made her so inviting.
“You and your herb tea,” Eb said, putting an arm around Leigh’s shoulders. “Got any good Scotch?”
Joe clenched his fists. One kiss gave him no rights. No rights whatsoever. Just before they stepped up on the porch, the sun burst out from behind a cloud and splashed the yard, making the potted geraniums glow with passion. A stray sunbeam reached up and fingered a tendril of Leigh’s hair that had escaped from the braid. Something about seeing the sun in her hair made his throat hurt. He leaned down and picked up the yellow rain hat and carefully brushed away the mud.
6
AS LEIGH TOOK OFF her muddy boots on the porch and shook out her raincoat, she kept up a normal conversation with Eb Whitlock about the number of inches of rain they’d had so far this season. Yet nothing would ever be normal again. She could still sense the power behind the lightning strike, still feel the electricity singing through the air, sizzling against her lips, igniting a passion that would never sleep again. The drumming of the rain on the car roof had echoed the drumming of her heart as he’d closed the gap between them....
“If you were smart, you’d have that cop investigate all the little accidents you’ve had around here,” Eb said as he held the carved wooden door open for her.
Leigh pulled her thoughts together with difficulty and gave the response she and Ry had agreed upon. “Joe’s on vacation while he’s out here. All he wants to do is relax. In fact, tomorrow I’m taking him up to the pond for a little bass fishing.”
“Sounds like fiddlin’ while Rome burns, if you ask me.” Eb followed her into the main room of the ranch house. “Don’t tell me you’re not hurting for business. How many guests you got right now?”
“Five. But it’s usually slow in August. Sit down, Eb,” she said with thinly disguised irritation as she waved him toward an overstuffed leather chair. “I’ll order us something to drink.”
The Lawman Page 6