Maybe, With Conditions

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Maybe, With Conditions Page 24

by Mariella Starr


  "I'm on my way!" he barked into the cell. He pushed his hand through his hair caught between two desperate desires. His needs and Nicole's had to come second place to an animal in distress.

  "Go," Nicole said jumping off the desk.

  "I have to, and I'm sorry," Dalton groaned, "When I get back, it's your turn."

  Nicole laughed. "I'll be here. Go rescue your expectant mother."

  He tore out of the room while Nicole pulled on her clothes and went to their bedroom for a long shower before returning to her studio. She painted the rest of the day and late into the evening. Whatever was detaining Dalton, she knew it was necessary. She went to bed alone and considered relieving her tension. She had certainly had enough practice during her long stint of celibacy. She decided against it. She was spoiled and wanted the real deal. Thinking naughty thoughts, she dug out a sexy novel to reread her favorite passages. Yes, she wanted the real thing, a hot, hard man inside her, and a man who knew how to use his hands and lips, and all his other parts. She wanted Dalton and she was not settling for second best, not ever again.

  * * *

  Dalton literally staggered into the house. He was exhausted and every step was an effort. He didn't go into his bedroom immediately. He didn't want to wake Nicole since he was disgustingly filthy. It hadn't been easy, but he had pulled the little mare through along with her newborn. It was already early in the morning and he was about to drop. He showered in the guest room, walking down the hall naked and sliding into bed with her.

  Nicole was already awake and waiting for him, wanting him. However, after one look at his drawn and fatigued face, she kissed him lightly, covered him, and told him to sleep. He didn't argue and was soon snoring slightly, something he only did when exhausted.

  She snuck out of bed later and went to the kitchen. She wasn't much of a cook, but she could scramble eggs and fry whatever meat she found in the refrigerator. She put on a pot of coffee and smiled as Dalton followed the smell to the kitchen. He poured himself a tall mug inhaling half of it in the first gulp.

  "Draft of the Gods," Dalton said lowering his cup. "I'm sorry I didn't make it home last night."

  "I knew it must be serious."

  "It was a severe case of PE," Dalton said. When she looked at him inquiringly, he expanded, "Equine Eclampsia, PE."

  "I didn't know horses could get it. I thought it was a human illness."

  "They can, and it is as dangerous in animal form as is in human. Both of them lived, but it was a battle. I have to return this morning to check on them." He glanced at the clock and reached for his phone. "Crap, I have to call Neeley."

  Nicole took the phone from his hand. "I already did. She has rescheduled any appointments she couldn't handle until eleven. I told her I would wake you at ten-thirty."

  He sat at the kitchen table. "Thanks, I should have left her a message on the service this morning."

  "Eat," Nicole ordered putting a plate of food in front of him.

  He caught her around the waist pulling her into his lap. "Thank you!" He kissed her. "You agreed to marry me. We have to buy a ring."

  "I did, but there's no particular hurry," Nicole said kissing him.

  "Yeah, there is. I want you branded as mine before you back out on me," Dalton teased.

  "You've had me, multiple times and still counting. I'm not letting you get away," Nicole laughed.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nicole waited for Dalton to leave on a patient call before quickly cleaning her workspace and returning to the house for the Jeep keys. She headed to town and hoped with any luck to be back before Dalton returned. He didn't want her traveling by herself, but with everyone away, she didn't have a choice. She also didn't want him to know about the errand she was running.

  She called ahead and went straight to the hotel room. As soon as she opened the door, the man pulled her off feet and swung her around in a tight hug.

  "Baby girl, I've missed you! Other than the troubles happening at the ranch, how is life in the wild west?"

  "I'm adjusting to it," Nicole said when he set her back on her feet. "Have you heard from Dee Dee?"

  "I talked to her last night," Phillip O'Cleary replied. "I haven't told her anything about why you called me. If I had, she would be on a plane heading straight here."

  "It wasn't necessary for you to do this personally."

  "I'm not. I flew in to check out the guy I assigned to this case. I'm 100% New York. I'd stick out like a sore thumb in this town. The man I hired, though, is from this area although he works out of Las Vegas most of the time. He'll fit in perfectly."

  "Who is he?"

  Phillip shook his head. "I'm not telling. I don't want you involved. If there is something to find out, we, as in my men, will find it. You have already given me a list of names and we are conducting background checks on them. When I have something, I'll contact you immediately."

  "I want this to stop. The sheriff calls it malicious mischief, but people are getting hurt, both physically and financially. There has been an enormous loss of cattle and property, although the sheriff thinks the rustling is a separate issue."

  "I'm working on it, Nic," Phillip repeated. "Now, be a good girl and stay out of it. It's almost lunchtime. Does this little burg in the middle of nowhere have a decent place to eat?"

  "It has no rival for your gourmet five-star-rated restaurants, but the café in town has good food. The only problem is I can't be seen with you."

  "What?"

  "This is a small town," Nicole explained. "A very small town. I would bet there are not a dozen people who don't recognize me as Dalton Calloway's girlfriend and the mother of his child. Gossip is the preferred local entertainment. It would take less than five minutes before someone called Dalton telling him I'm in town and stepping out on him with a handsome stranger."

  "How can you live in such a goldfish bowl?" Phillip demanded.

  Nicole laughed. "I like it, most of the time. I didn't think I would, but small town living grows on you."

  "It might grow on you, but not on me," Phillip said with a shudder. "I'm checking out and returning to Reno. My flight leaves in three hours. Don't worry, honey, I have good people on the job. Hiding anything in this age of technology is difficult. If there are connections out there, we'll find them. I'll be in touch as soon as I receive some feedback from my agents."

  Nicole returned to the Double C and her work. Although she had arrived before Dalton, as soon as he returned, he came straight to the studio and gave her hell for leaving the ranch alone. Biting her tongue, she took the scolding and apologized, but he still left angry. With his bad mood, she was not about to tell him she had called one of the nation's top investigative agencies for help.

  She let several days go by before following up with Phillip, but he wasn't ready to release any information.

  Dalton was busy; he was gone more than he was at home. He explained his prolonged absences. Veterinarians were similar to doctors who went through busy cycles. This was one of his busiest. He was dealing with multiple pregnant mares along with a strain of enteritis colic. He traced the colic to a high bacteria count in a batch of grain distributed in the area. Once they found the source, the grain was destroyed. They avoided an epidemic and saved the lives of numerous horses.

  Nicole felt a little abandoned. She missed Matty and the Calloways, although she had made friends with some of the wives of ranch hands. Left alone, she buried herself in her painting producing what she hoped her agent would consider a good representation of her work.

  Dalton came in one evening, looked at a dinner originating from a freezer box, and grimaced. "Let's go into town to eat. I can't take another frozen pizza."

  "I never said I was a cook!"

  "I know, and I haven't complained. I know you're doing your best, but I need a thick steak, and a baked potato as big as my foot. Give me ten minutes to change and I'll be with you."

  On the way into town, they spoke very little until Nicole asked if he had
heard from Helen. She had not been able to get through to them and had missed talking to Matty.

  "I'm sorry," Dalton, said giving her hand a squeeze. "I've been out most of the day, so I haven't seen you. Gran called early this morning. They're visiting a distant relative in Fergus Falls. That's about a hundred miles from Willmar where they will stay the night. Cell reception in bad weather can be spotty."

  "Like some other places I know."

  "Have I been neglecting you, lately?" Dalton asked suddenly.

  "A little bit, but as a result, I've gotten a lot of work done," Nicole admitted. "I'm beginning to miss Matty like a sore tooth."

  "If you want, I can have Kay bring him back with her," Dalton offered.

  "Do you think Helen and Roy Mac will be upset if I did?"

  "He's our child, Nic. They will understand. I was kind of surprised you let him go in the first place. I promise it won't hurt their feelings if you want him to come home early."

  "Then I do," declared Nicole her eyes filling with tears. "I miss him so much."

  Dalton pulled off onto the side of the road and pulled her into his arms. "You should have told me. I miss him, too. I'm taking off tomorrow and we're going to Carson City."

  "Why?"

  "Because you promised to marry me, and I've been too busy to get you a ring." He rubbed his thumb over her bare finger. "This needs a ring here." He frowned and lifted her other hand. "Why aren't you wearing my mother's ring?"

  "I don't wear it when I'm painting," Nicole explained. "My hands are in paint thinners, chemicals, and paints." She pulled a chain out of her shirt. "I keep it safe here when I'm not wearing it."

  Dalton kissed her again. "It means a lot to me that you think it's special."

  At a small tavern outside the town limits, Dalton pulled into the parking lot. "I know it doesn't look like much, but Homer has the best steaks in town," he promised.

  * * *

  Nicole pushed her plate away from her. "I can't eat another bite," she exclaimed loudly over a jukebox proclaiming Johnny Cash had fallen into a burnin' ring of fire.

  Dalton smiled and stabbed the remaining piece of steak on her plate adding it to his. "I don't think those old songs have been changed in the jukebox since Homer bought this place," he nearly shouted.

  "Why should I?" An older man with a trim white beard said as he picked up Dalton's empty beer mug and slid a cup of hot coffee in front of him. "You've hit your limit for tonight. I wouldn't want you making an ass of yourself in front of this pretty girl."

  "Yes, sir," Dalton said with a grin.

  "You make him treat you right," the old man said to Nicole before nodding and wandering off to another table.

  "He has your number," Nicole said.

  "Homer has everyone's number. He knows everybody in town. He knows who you are and where you live. He's been known to confiscate truck keys."

  "Uh oh," Nicole said looking past Dalton.

  "What?" he turned his head, but he didn't need to see her. He heard her voice full of visceral anger.

  "Well, well, what do we have here? Slumming, my dear ex?" Barbara sauntered to the table with a shot glass in her hand. "Did you have to pay him to take you out in public? Where did you leave the little bastard?"

  "Shut up, Barbara," Dalton growled pushing himself out of the booth.

  "Hey, Barbie," a tall man with a day's worth of scruffy beard caught Barbara around the waist and guided her to the bar. "Come on, honey, the night's not over, yet."

  They watched the cowboy lead her away. Homer walked behind the man and said something to him. A few minutes later, Barbara's shrill voice was heard yelling at the bartender, claiming she was not drunk and he had no right to refuse to serve her. The cowboy slapped a bill on the bar and pulled her outside as she continued complaining loudly every inch of the way. People stopped what they were doing to watch the scene and several heads turned in the direction of Dalton and Nicole.

  When the door shut behind the couple, Homer shoved a quarter in the jukebox to play an upbeat song about a young man so besotted with a girl, he was getting into trouble and wailing What was I Think'in. It was loud and rowdy and refocused everyone's attention on their companions or their meals. The old man came to their table and smirked at Dalton. "That one's new, only five or six years old."

  "Let's get out of here."

  "Dance with me first," Nicole suggested. "Although, you might have to show me what they're doing."

  "It's a simple Texas two-step. It's the same dance we were doing at the barbecue," he said pulling her onto the floor.

  "I know, but if you haven't figured it out yet, I have absolutely no dancing skills," Nicole commented with a smile. She never quite got the simple steps, but Dalton was laughing when they left the floor. Her idea was to take his mind of his ex-wife making a scene, and it worked. After the dance, Dalton grabbed his Stetson, paid the bill, and waved at Homer as they left.

  "I had a good time tonight," she said snuggling into his side as he drove the dark highway.

  "Do you miss the bright lights of Washington?" Dalton asked.

  "Not much, I never was one for bar hopping or the social scene. Most of my friends were married with kids and settled."

  "Sort of like us," Dalton said with a sly look at her. "Minus the wedding band."

  "Don't push," chided Nicole. "Even if I wanted to get married tomorrow, I couldn't. Dee Dee has to be at my wedding, and she hasn't said when she's returning."

  "Ask her," Dalton ordered, giving her a quick kiss and a squeeze.

  When they drove up the ranch lane, they looked at each other in alarm. They saw lots of flashing lights. When they got closer, they recognized fire trucks, rescue squad vehicles and other official cars from the sheriff's department. Dalton stepped on the gas and they bounced and skidded to a stop on the gravel in front of the house.

  "Stay put," Dalton ordered as he slammed out of his truck.

  Nicole ignored him, slid across the seat, and stood beside him a few seconds later. The smell of smoke hung in the air. He glared at Nicole but was more interested in answers. They ran toward the barns where they were intercepted by firemen and Wayne Cummings, his foreman.

  "The fire's out," Wayne growled. "We caught it in time. No one was hurt including the animals. It was a diversion, boss. While we were fighting the fire, someone was in the main house."

  "Are you sure no one was hurt?" Dalton demanded.

  "Not a scratch or burn," Wayne said firmly. "The fire alarms and sprinklers went off like they're supposed to. We have a loft full of wet hay and some feed will be ruined, but we can spread it out in the sun to dry. You'd better get over to the house and see what happened there. I haven't had time, yet."

  "Good work," Dalton exclaimed turning on his heel for the house. Nicole trotted beside him to keep pace.

  "Would it do me any good to tell you to stay here?"

  "No."

  Dalton sighed and nodded. "I didn't think so."

  "What happened?" Dalton demanded of the deputy posted on the porch. The young officer opened his mouth to answer, but Dalton ignored him and barged into the house.

  Both he and Nicole were surveying the damage in the main room when Sheriff Shifflett stepped out of Dalton's office. The intruders had slashed the leather couches and chairs and spray-painted the paintings on the walls.

  "The damage is worse in the office," the sheriff said. "I figure whoever did this didn't want to make much noise to alert your men. Slashing and spray painting are quiet. Whoever did this kept to the main rooms down here. Then they went upstairs. Three rooms up there are messed up, with closets and dressers torn apart. We're going to need you to tell us if anything is missing."

  Nicole gripped Dalton's arm as they walked into his office. There was more destruction here than in the living room. The furniture had been slashed and there was a strong smell in the room.

  "It's kerosene. It was poured over nearly everything. I figure your computer is probably fried," the Sheri
ff said.

  Dalton's eyes scanned the room. "Whoever did this has been here before, or was told what to look for," he declared pointing to an open cabinet where a small safe was hidden in a compartment behind the wall. There were gouges in the paneling around the cabinet, but the safe wasn't disturbed. "No one except family knew where the safe was hidden." He pointed to a glass-fronted wooden display case with empty hooks. "Someone took Dad's collection of Civil War Swords." He turned around slowly. "Almost all the collections are missing."

  "Have you got a record of them?" the sheriff asked.

  "Yes, every single piece, and they are insured. It doesn't change what happened here," Dalton fumed. "I want this bastard caught, Sheriff."

  "I know you do. I'll haul your ex-wife in again for questioning, but so far, she's kept her tail covered."

  "It was covered tonight, too," Nicole said. "Barbara Ruiz was at the same place we were this evening."

  "We had dinner at Homer's," Dalton clarified.

  "Then by rights, I have no business questioning her," the sheriff said.

  "She's behind it," Dalton growled. "She might not have done it, but she's behind it. Who else would know where the safe is located?"

  "We'd better check out the rest of the house," Nicole suggested.

  The sheriff followed them through the house, taking notes of the items Dalton listed as missing. Although the vandalized paintings were valuable, they had not been slashed, but spray-painted. Only smaller objects of value were missing. Crystal and silver and objet d'art collected by his mother and grandmother, small sculptures, carvings of ivory or wood, porcelain, and glass. Roy Mac's collection of antique gold pocket watches was gone, but his grandparents' bedroom was not damaged at all except for the broken glass on the display case.

  Nicole was better at identifying the missing items. She had an eye for art, whereas Dalton grew up with the pieces. He was so used to seeing the pieces, it was easy for him to overlook things. It took hours of investigation and discussion. Part of the delay was due to Dalton's insistence they shelve the issues with the house until he could inspect his veterinarian buildings. He needed to make sure nothing was stolen and the animals were safe. This time, his practice was secure. The guard was still on duty and hadn't seen or heard anything out of the ordinary. Even when the fire department arrived, he had not left his post.

 

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