She nodded. “I’ve sort of figured that out. So please don’t reprimand him, Brady. I don’t want that.”
“Don’t fret about it, Rosalinda. It’s all forgotten.” His expression turned serious as he carefully studied her face. “So this thing with you and Tyler Pickens, you think it might turn into something special?”
Brady Donovan was a happily married man with two young children who at the same time managed to cope with a very stressful job. Rosalinda admired him greatly as a lawman and a family man. She appreciated his opinion and advice on everything.
“Well—yes—maybe.” Sighing, she reached up and swiped the messy strands of hair away from her face. “I’ve told you all about Dale and Monique, so you can imagine I’m a bit gun-shy about starting up anything serious with him or any man just yet.”
“I understand where you’re coming from, but I seriously doubt that Tyler Pickens has a scorned woman around here just waiting to get revenge by stalking you.”
“Spoken out loud it sounds insane, doesn’t it?” Sighing, she shook her head. “I guess that’s why I couldn’t believe I was in any danger when it first started happening. It’s still hard for me to believe anyone—especially a woman—could be so fanatical and vindictive.”
“People get messed up for one reason or another. In this job you see them every day. You’ve learned that now, Rosa. And trust me, you won’t make the same mistake twice.”
“I hope you’re right,” she told him. “But there’s a heck of a lot about Tyler Pickens that I don’t know.”
“Well, it could be that solving this case might give you the answers you need to know about the man,” he said. Swiftly changing gears, he gestured toward the computer screen. “Are those the photos you took at the burn location?”
Glad to get back to business, she nodded. “I have some interesting things to show you.”
“Good. I’m anxious to see them. And Rosalinda, it might help you to know that when I fell in love with my wife, I’d found her on the side of the road having lost her memory. I didn’t know if Lass had come from Mars or a nearby jail. Or even if she was married. I went with my gut instinct and never regretted it.” With that sage advice, he went over to the door and yelled down the hallway, “Get in here, Hank. It’s time you do a little work around here.”
* * *
The next evening a shooting at a local bar prompted Rosalinda and Hank to work overtime. As soon as she’d found a spot to pause for a couple of minutes, she’d called Gib and informed him that she wouldn’t be able to make dinner. The next evening her self-defense class was scheduled for seven o’clock, so she’d not been able to make the trip to the Pine Ridge Ranch that night, either. But this evening Rosalinda was free and she’d called Gib earlier in the day to let the cook know she’d be coming.
Now as she drove the thirty miles to the ranch she had butterflies in her stomach and every five minutes she caught herself glancing down at her dress. Was Tyler going to realize she’d purposely worn it for him? And would Gib take her questions seriously once he saw her out of uniform?
By the time she parked near the sprawling ranch house, all doubts and questions suddenly fled her mind. The only thing that really mattered was that she was going to see Tyler again and she was going to let herself enjoy the evening.
Gib answered her knock and quickly ushered her into a foyer paneled with cedar and furnished with a wooden park bench, along with several potted succulents.
“It’s good that you could finally make it, Miss Lightfoot. It’s not often that I have a guest to cook for.”
“I hope I’m not causing you extra work,” she told the older man.
“Not at all.” He gestured for her to precede him into a large living area. “Tyler is still out with the men. But I expect he’ll be gettin’ back soon. He mentioned that you wanted to ask me some questions about the fire. Come on back to the kitchen. We can talk while I finish my cooking.”
“Sure. I’d like that.”
The long living room was beautifully furnished with leather furniture done in oxblood-red and creamy tans. Oil paintings of Western landscapes and wildlife adorned the walls, while bright Navajo rugs were scattered across the oak floor. At the far end was a huge stone fireplace with a wide hearth flanked by two matching rockers. Since it was the middle of summer, there was obviously no need for a fire. But in the winter she could picture Tyler sitting there alone, staring into the flames.
When she and Gib entered the L-shaped kitchen, the space smelled of spices and simmering beef. Rosalinda couldn’t resist sniffing the air. “Mmm. That smell is mouthwatering,” she told Gib.
A modest grin came over his wrinkled features. “Better wait and taste it before you say anything else,” he jokingly warned. “I’m not a real cook. I just became one out of necessity.” He gestured to a table situated a few steps away from a sliding glass door. “Might as well sit and make yourself comfortable. How about a glass of iced tea or a cup of coffee?”
She sat down in a chair that allowed her a view of the lawn and the ranch yard in the distance. At the moment the only movement she spotted there was one lone cowboy carrying a feed bucket. “Tea would be nice. But only a small one. I want to save room for food.”
She watched Gib fetch the drink and noticed there was a faint limp to his carriage. Unless he’d just started limping that week, one thing was certain: this man couldn’t have climbed down the cliff trail to set a fire.
After he placed the glass in front of her, he returned to a large gas range where several iron pots sat on burners. He removed a lid on the largest one and poked at the contents with a long-handled fork. “So what was it you wanted to ask me about the fire, Deputy Lightfoot? I’m not sure I can be of any help. But I’ll try.”
“Please, call me Rosa,” she instructed. “And I don’t expect you have any direct information to give me. Otherwise you would have already told me about it. But maybe you could tell me how you feel about the men who work here on the ranch. You think any of them might be harboring a grudge against the Cantrells?”
With a puzzled frown, he put the lid back on the pot and lowered the flame beneath it. “The Cantrells? I figured you were thinking someone might have done this out of spite against Tyler. To make it look like he was trying to burn out the Cantrells.”
That was one of the motives that she, Brady and Hank had discussed as they’d studied the photos she’d taken of the burn site. “It very well could have happened that way. Does Tyler have any enemies around here that would go to such lengths to hurt him?”
Gib thoughtfully stroked his chin. “Tyler’s ranch hands have all been working for him for several years now. Ain’t none of them ever been that kind of mad at Tyler. Or anybody else for that matter. ’Course, I can’t say the same for the folks back in Texas.”
Gib’s last comment perked her ears and not just from the standpoint of a deputy. “Oh. He had enemies back there?”
He walked over to where she sat at the table and glanced behind her as though to make sure Tyler hadn’t slipped into the room. “I’d sure as hell call ’em enemies. Ain’t no way I would’ve called ’em family.”
Trying not to appear too eager, she casually sipped her tea before she presented her next question. “Tyler has hinted that he had a rift with his family.”
The old man grimaced. “More than a rift, Rosa. It was a blowup. But I’d best not go into all of that with you. Ty wouldn’t appreciate me talkin’ about his private life. Besides, none of that has anything to do with the troubles here. I just wish that—well, that Tyler could forget it all. He tries to let on like it don’t matter anymore. But that’s just an act.”
Thoughtful now, she wiped a finger down her sweaty glass. “Tell me, Gib, how did you happen to come out here to New Mexico with Tyler?”
He walked back over to the gas range and after che
cking the contents in a smaller pot, turned off the fire beneath it.
“That’s easy enough to answer,” he said. “Sink or swim, I wanted to be with Tyler. He’s always been like my son. And I felt like he needed me.”
The man’s statement didn’t surprise her. It was easy to see that Gib was devoted to Tyler. “Do you have any children of your own?”
“A daughter, Venus. She lives back east in Virginia. Her husband is a navy man. I rarely ever see her, though.”
“And your wife?”
“She died a long time ago. When Venus was eighteen. Back then, I was still working on the Rocking P—that’s the Pickens ranch in Texas. After her mother died, Venus left to go to college and then she got married. She never did like ranching life. I guess it always stood between me and her.”
He gave Rosalinda a wan smile and it dawned on her that this man had suffered his own disappointments, yet he was still capable of smiling and looking forward. That took courage. She knew that well.
“I’m sorry about that, Gib.”
He waved a dismissive hand at her. “Don’t be. She’s happy. And that’s all I want. Besides, I have Ty. He ain’t my blood kin, but I love him a hell of a lot more than his own daddy ever did.”
Rosalinda could have pushed Gib to say more about the family issue, but she wouldn’t. Like Gib had said, that information had nothing to do with the fire. And she’d rather hear the story from Tyler and know that he found her worthy of sharing it with.
“This has nothing to do with the fire either, Gib. But I noticed you have a slight limp. Did you hurt yourself?”
He returned to the table and eased down in the chair opposite her. Outside the glass doors, the sun had disappeared and shadows were spreading long fingers across the yard and beyond. Darkness would surely be driving Tyler back to house soon, she thought.
“Yeah, it happened about twelve years ago,” he said. “Can’t remember exactly. Time gets away from a person. Anyway, I was a regular hand then. We were branding cattle one day and I was in the midst of dragging a calf to the fire when my horse broke in two and—”
“Broke in two!” Rosalinda interrupted with a gasp. “I hope that doesn’t mean what it sounds like.”
Gib chuckled. “Sorry. That’s cowboy lingo. It means the horse started bucking. Anyway, I ended up in a rock pile with my pelvis busted up pretty good. The accident left me with a little limp, but I could still rope and ride with the best of ’em. Warren didn’t see it that way, though. He put me to work mucking horse stalls like I was nothin’. Like I hadn’t given forty years of my life to that damned place.”
Rosalinda could feel Gib’s sense of betrayal and hurt, and her heart went out to the man. “If you could still do your work, then what was his reasoning for the demotion?”
Gib snorted. “I’d become a liability, Rosa. Too old—that’s why I’d gotten bucked off, he said. The damned bastard knew that was a lie. He was a tightwad, that’s the reason I was riding a bronc in the first place. He kept cheap, untrained horses around to save buying good riding stock.” Shaking his head, he leveled an unwavering look at Rosalinda. “I tell you, Rosa, I hated that Tyler was hurt, but I was damned glad he got away from the Rocking P and that I left with him.”
For long moments she thought about everything Gib had told her, and even though he hadn’t given her details, he’d given her a sense of Tyler’s life back in Texas. “What about now, Gib? You don’t mind that Tyler has relegated you to cook?”
The question brought a grin back to the older man’s face. “Naw. For a few years after we moved here I rode and worked out on the range. But the cold weather here in New Mexico gets brutal when you work outdoors all day long. Arthritis started working on my old injury, and after a while it hurt too much to sit for long hours in the saddle. Tyler put me to cooking. When I first started, the only thing I knew how to fix was bacon and eggs or making macaroni out of a box. We both suffered for a while.”
Rosalinda smiled back at him. “Well, from the smell of things I think you’ve graduated into a true chef.”
A door beyond Gib’s left shoulder suddenly opened, and she looked up to see Tyler entering the room. He was smeared from head to toe with red mud.
“Rosa? How long have you been here?”
Before she could say a word, Gib said, “Long enough. Don’t you know by now that it’s not gentlemanly to keep a lady waitin’?”
Grimacing, Tyler pulled off his hat and tossed it toward a hall tree. It missed its mark, but he didn’t notice as he’d already turned his attention to removing his muddy boots. While he tugged them off, Gib went over and plucked the hat from the floor, then hung it on an arm of the hall tree.
“Sorry I’m running late. It couldn’t be helped,” Tyler said. “A cow and calf got stuck in a bog hole. We finally had to use the tractor to pull them out. They appear to be okay, thank God. The men are fencing the bog off now.”
“No need for apologies,” Rosalinda told him. “Gib and I have been having a nice chat.”
Tyler shot an amused glance at the other man. “Gib knows how to chat?”
She smiled at both men. “He did it very nicely with me.”
Clearing his throat, Gib picked up Tyler’s boots. “Get out of here before you smear mud all over the kitchen,” he barked. “I’ll have supper on the table in five minutes.”
Tyler quickly strode out of the room, and Rosalinda rose to her feet. “Tell me what I can do to help.”
The cook grinned. “I’ll let you set the table. Come on and I’ll show you.”
From the kitchen, she followed Gib through an arched doorway and into a square-shaped room. A round pine table with matching chairs sat in the middle while a long, matching buffet rested along an inner wall. On the outer wall was a row of paned glass windows bare of curtains or drapes. But those furnishings would have only ruined the view of the backyard and the distant foothills of the rising mountains beyond.
Gib opened up a section of the buffet to expose a stack of dishes. “The silverware is in the top drawer and the dishes are here. Fix things like you want. Tyler doesn’t care about fancy.”
Gib left the room and Rosalinda went to work, placing the dishes and cutlery around the table. As she did, she couldn’t help thinking the house was big and comfortable—just perfect for raising a large family. Children would love it here with all the livestock and wildlife and acres of land to explore. And so would a woman, she thought. The right woman.
And you’re thinking you could be that right woman, Rosa? Just because the man kissed you a couple of times doesn’t mean he wants to sign a marriage license. Dale gave you more than kisses. He promised to marry you, to love and protect you forever. But once Monique started applying pressure our love didn’t matter and he crumbled. You expect Tyler to be any different?
“It’s nearly dark. But if you look close you’ll probably see a mule deer or two out there grazing on the foothills.”
Realizing that Gib had walked into the room, she was thankful the cook believed she was appreciating the view instead of daydreaming about Tyler.
“The spring fawns are getting big now. You might spot some of them, too, following after their mothers.”
The sound of Tyler’s voice had her and Gib turning to see he’d entered the dining room. As he joined them at the table, she noticed he was dressed all in denim and his black hair was damp and slicked back from his face. At some point since she’d met him four days ago, he must have shaved at least once. Otherwise the dark stubble on his face would have been a lot longer. He was a man who either disliked razors or was extremely busy, she decided. Or could be he was unconcerned with his appearance. Either way, it hardly mattered. If he looked any sexier, she’d probably need to be resuscitated.
“There you are,” Gib said to him. “’Bout time, too. Everything is ready.”
“Good,” Tyler said. “I hope you two are as hungry as I am.”
Gib quickly scooped up one of the plates from the table and the silverware next to it. “My hip is aching a little. I’m going to eat in front of the TV in my room. You don’t mind, do you, Rosa?”
Since she’d arrived this evening, Gib hadn’t complained about having any pain to her. Was he deliberately leaving her alone with Tyler? It certainly looked that way.
“Not at all,” she told him. “And since your hip is hurting, I’ll do the cleaning up for you.”
Gib’s jaw dropped. “Naw. Guests don’t do dishes.”
She smiled at the cook, then turned it on Tyler. “I’m sure Tyler won’t mind helping me. Will you?”
The stunned look on Tyler’s face pulled a chuckle from Gib. “Now that sounds like a winnin’ deal to me. Ty cleaning the kitchen.”
Deciding he’d better get while the getting was good, Gib left the room and Rosalinda turned to Tyler. “Don’t worry,” she told him. “I’ll take care of the dishes. It’s the least I can do for this lovely meal he prepared.”
For long moments, Tyler simply stared at her. Just when she thought he was going to chide her about the dishwashing duty, he stepped forward and pulled her into his arms.
Dazed, Rosalinda’s head tilted back in an attempt to read his expression, but the only thing she could see was his dark face descending toward hers. And then suddenly he was kissing her with short, hungry sips that took her breath away.
By the time he was finished, she was practically gasping. “What was that?”
The lazy grin on his mouth made her wish he would kiss her all over again.
“Saying hello,” he murmured. “And telling you how glad I am to see you again.”
“Oh.” The one word was all she could manage to say as her heart melted into a useless puddle at his feet.
It was going to be a night she would long remember, she decided. And she could only hope the memories she made with this man wouldn’t soon turn into regrets.
The Deputy Gets Her Man Page 9