“Yeah? You figure by the time I have to leave tomorrow?”
“Oh, no,” Jesse, mirrored Grant’s petting. “No, we’re not short-term thinkers here. We’re talking years.”
Annie felt her throat tighten. They were the sweetest men she had ever met.
“Years? That is a nice thought.”
“You sound doubtful,” Grant observed.
“No, not doubtful. Just realistic. One day a couple of pretty young things will catch your eyes, and then you’ll be off getting married and making babies. And that’s as it should be,” Annie concluded around the lump that was catching fire in her chest. Of course that was as it should be. Men wanted sons. Well, most men did. To carry on their names, follow in their footsteps.
The silence stretched out long enough that Annie came out of her thoughts. Jesse and Grant were staring at each other.
“Looking to get rid of us already?” Jesse asked. Something about his smile stirred her belly. She recognized the hint of vulnerability around the edges of his mouth, and in his eyes. He seemed so self-assured, it never would have occurred to her that he could be unsure ever. But maybe the words she’d meant as a caution to herself had hurt him.
“No.” Annie turned her gaze to Grant and saw he wore as serious an expression as she’d ever seen on him.
“No,” she repeated. “I don’t want to get rid of either of you. I want to stay right here. I want more.”
“Good.” Jesse pulled the sheet off her completely. They spread her legs gently, played their hands up and down her body, caressing her until arousal pushed every thought from her head. “That’s real good, Annie. Because here is where we want you and more is what you’re going to get.”
* * * *
“It’ll only take me a couple of minutes to do these dishes up,” Annie said. “You made dinner and breakfast. Come on, fair is fair.”
“Which is why I’ll throw everything in the dishwasher while you and Jesse get the horses saddled,” Grant said.
Jesse chuckled. “Give it up, sweetheart. No one wins an argument with Grant. Not even me.”
When Annie put her hands on her hips and frowned, Grant said, “You can clean up after lunch. Deal?”
“Why do I have the sneaking suspicion that when lunch time rolls around, one or both of you will distract me while the other does the work?”
“Because you’re coming to know us very well?” Jesse suggested. Then he forestalled further arguments by grabbing Annie up into very hot and very delicious kiss. Jesse knew he was becoming addicted to the taste of her, and that didn’t bother him one bit. He guessed he ruined the effect of it a little, because he was laughing when he stepped back.
“Come on, woman. Let’s go get the horses ready while Homer here plays maid.”
Grant’s response was to grab the dishtowel and flick it at him. Jesse held the door open for Annie, then turned a level look on Grant. His best friend returned it with a brisk nod.
They had an ulterior motive for not wanting Annie to stay in the house and do the dishes. While they were out saddling the horses, Grant was going to call the Albany County Sheriff’s office. They’d both known the sheriff, George Slater, since junior high. They counted him a good friend and knew he’d help them out.
Jesse had gotten a tight feeling in his gut last night when Annie mentioned that she thought she’d seen her former brother-in-law. Not surprisingly, Grant experienced that same feeling. They’d let Annie dismiss the observation, and not for the world—or at least, not until they knew otherwise—would they disabuse her of the conclusion she’d made.
Maybe Annie hadn’t seen the bastard cruising past her shop yesterday afternoon. Maybe he was still rotting away in jail in New YorkState.
And maybe he wasn’t.
A phone call to George, who as Sheriff had access to all that information, was a simple enough step to take.
Jesse stopped behind Annie, who paused to tip her head back, face into the wind.
“Of all the things I thought I’d encounter moving out West,” she said when he ran his hand down her back, “the one that surprised me the most is this. The almost constant wind.”
“It can be a bitch in the winter,” Jesse agreed.
“Yes. I didn’t test that piece of information. Once the first snow fell, just about every one of my customers warned me about how bad the snow could suddenly drift onto the highway between here and Laramie. Since I didn’t have a lot of driving experience before moving here, I took their advice as gospel.”
Jesse was in no hurry to move them to the barn. They were out of the house and that was all that mattered. “When we get word a winter storm is going to hit, we set up guide wires from the house to the barns, and from the bunkhouse to the barns, as well. I do that here, and we do it at Grant’s. It wouldn’t take much to get turned around and lost, end up freezing to death. It’s happened, so we all take extra care.”
Annie shivered, and he hated to scare her. But he knew what she didn’t, that if he and Grant had their way, she’d be living out here with them before the end of next summer.
“I’m perfectly content to stay inside where it’s safe and warm when the winds howl and the snow flies. Does that make me a wimp?”
“No, it makes you a smart woman.”
“Who is also a wimp.” She turned and headed toward the barn, getting a few steps ahead. He hurried to catch up.
“I really wish you’d stop trash-talking yourself, honey. Pisses me off.”
Annie stopped and turned to face him. A frown marred her brow, and her pretty lips were drawn tight, a sure sign that she wasn’t happy. That bothered him because he understood she wasn’t happy with herself.
“I don’t mean to piss you off, but I feel as if, just recently, I’ve opened my eyes after a lifetime of living with them glued shut. How the hell could I have allowed myself to stay married to that loser for so long? Why did I believe him when he said I was cold and a lousy lay, useless and worthless?” Shaking her head, she turned and took one step toward the barn.
Jesse grabbed Annie’s arm, and eased her around until she faced him again.
“You only know what you know, Annie. People aren’t born with self-esteem. They aren’t born knowing how to make the right choices in life. Those are things we learn. And how the hell can we learn them if no one is there to teach us?”
Annie turned her gaze away from him. The pink washing her cheeks told him more than her words how disappointed she was in herself. How could he get her to see that disappointment was a waste of time? How could he make her understand how he felt, how he knew Grant felt?
His words came, and with an ease that amazed him. “Maybe, just maybe, you could consider this. Without that, without all that you went through, you would never have come here to Wyoming. I’m not saying you should ever look on the loss of your unborn baby as something positive. Just like I’ll never look at the death of my parents that way. But everything we’ve all been through, good and bad, has brought us to right here and right now. Everything we’ve lived, the three of us, has brought us to the place where we could be together.”
“I want to believe that. I want to believe that somehow I deserve to be here with the two of you. But that’s not how it feels.”
“Believe it,” Grant said as he approached. He sent Jesse a slight nod, then stroked his finger down Annie’s face. “Life isn’t about penalties and punishments, sweetheart. It’s about living and loving and laughing. And we all deserve every good thing, and every bit of love we can grab.”
Annie looked from Grant to him. Her expression had cleared, the self-reproach he’d seen in her eyes replaced now by something so soft, it warmed his heart.
“Every time we’re together, it seems you’re spoiling me, taking care of me. Your kindnesses wow me, and your tenderness melts me. I never expected anything like this. I never expected you. What am I going to do with you two?”
“Oh, well, that’s easy. You’re going to go riding with us,
” Jesse said.
“After which you’re going to eat lunch with us,” Grant added.
“And then we’re going to eat you.”
It was a completely satisfying way to answer her. Annie’s face turned crimson and her words seemed to have run away from her, because all she could do was laugh and sputter.
“The pink on your cheeks suits you. Gives you a very healthy glow.” Jesse bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.
“It’s not the blush that’s giving me a glow. It’s all the riding I’ve been doing lately. I’m starting to feel right at home in the saddle. Just gets a little tiring always remembering knees in and heels down.”
He looked over at Grant, his grin as wide as his friend’s. Then they both burst out laughing. He hooked his arm around Annie, hugged her tight as all three finished their walk to the barn. “Now, if that’s a complaint, Annie, you know we’re more than happy to let you ride double.”
“Or better yet just lay back and let us do all the work,” Grant said.
“After all,” Jesse beamed, “our state’s motto is ‘Equal Rights’.”
“Huh,” Annie huffed just before she gave them a laughing smile.
Her eyes were sparkling with good humor, and that was a whole hell of a lot easier to look at than her expression of self-loathing.
“And here I thought it was ‘Save a horse, ride a cowboy’.”
“Maybe you could take up a petition, present it to the state legislature,” Grant suggested. “Who knows, with the progressive history Wyoming has, they might just adopt it.”
“Maybe I will.”
Jesse pulled the door open, the familiar scents of hay and horse wafting out as warm summer breeze blew in. He watched as Annie went right over to her horse, greeting the filly with soft words, a softer touch, and a piece of apple she’d filched from the fridge.
The words she’d spoken earlier about him and Grant finding wives came back to him. Maybe it wasn’t too soon to show their own little filly a particular plot of land.
Chapter 16
Never count on a loose cannon being predictable.
Billy had long ago taught himself how to chill out, cool off, and wait. Not a patient man by nature, it had taken him some time to master that particular skill. Yet every once in a while, he developed a sense way down deep, a kind of shivery certainty that logic couldn’t shake, that patience was not only undesirable, but dangerous.
That feeling began to blossom inside him as he drifted off to sleep the night before, and by mid morning, it had become a throbbing presence in his psyche. As he looked out over
Main Street
from his apartment atop his fix-it shop, he realized he’d left a couple of bases uncovered.
He’d followed Rutherford to the Super 8 just off I-80 outside Laramie, satisfied the man would remain there for the night, confident everything and everyone was where they belonged for the moment.
He reasoned he’d have time to line all his ducks in a row, but there was one thing he hadn’t done.
Shit. It wasn’t yet noon. If he headed out, there was no guarantee he’d be able to take care of that one detail.
Turning away from the window, he went to his bed and pulled the black case out from under it. Inside, there were handy little technological gadgets, though not nearly as many as there had been before he’d set foot in Branchton. This job has cost me a fortune.
Needing to remind himself of the reason he’d spent that fortune, he sat down at his computer, clicked on a bookmarked site.
They said the necklace was so delicate, so beautiful, it must have been created by the gods. Featuring fifty of the most exquisite tear-drop diamonds cut by ancient hands, delicate gold strands and settings, the necklace known as Aphrodite’s Tears shimmered in the one photograph taken of it in modern times, for the auction at Sotheby’s where it was purchased by billionaire industrialist and sometime-diplomat Algernon Piers. He presented it as a twenty-fifth wedding anniversary gift to his wife, Gladys Hamilton Piers. The couple had hosted a lavish party at their Park Avenue penthouse to mark the occasion, where they received well wishes and gifts and, apparently, a first-class surveillance. Two days later, the penthouse was broken into and the necklace stolen.
That had been three years ago.
There’d been no sign of the necklace since. Algernon—who was nobody’s fool—had made sure the expensive bauble had been properly appraised and insured before presenting it to his beloved wife. He collected a tidy ten million dollars from Lloyd’s of London as consolation for his loss.
Billy had no idea whether Mrs. Piers had been gifted with that money, or not.
The necklace’s value, if indeed it was still intact, had only increased despite the current economic downturn. He’d listened to rumors, of course, and the gossip that traveled the circles that wound just under the veneer of polite society. Smart man’s money was on the stones having been removed and moved, the gold melted down and sold.
He believed the necklace was intact.
Billy sighed. He really wanted that necklace. He entertained a fleeting image of his mother draped in Aphrodite’s Tears, likely paired with her classic black Dior.
Then he laughed. He loved his mother, but not that much.
His gaze flicked to the bottom right of his computer screen. Time had a disgusting habit of marching on, even when it would be more convenient all around if it would just chill for a few. Billy logged off the computer then spun his chair around.
He tried not to wince as he took the five thousand dollar GPS tracker out of his case. Thank God he had his friend Nigel, who could supply underground and often illegal equipment in exchange for cash. So he’d be able to replace this beauty, as he had the uncomfortable feeling he might not get it back.
He removed the rest of what he needed, preparing to be on his way. The sound of his cell phone blaring out Coldplay’s Viva La Vida stopped him in his tracks.
That ring tone belonged to only one caller, an old friend who’d become a cop. His very own deep throat—sort of.
“Yes?”
“I thought you’d like to know there’s been a search requested through NCIC. Whoever asked for the information must have some favors owed, because the Bureau has put out feelers looking for Rutherford.”
“He was serving time in the state minimum security. How’d he end up with the Feds tracking him?”
“Logically, someone in the Bureau must have had their eye on him.”
Billy rubbed his chin. “Fuck, do you think he was into shit we don’t know about?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. All indications to date are that he’s a two-bit player who just happened to hit it lucky with the Piers heist. No one could possibly believe he’s smart enough to have planned it.”
“No.” But having him entered into the NCIC raised the game to a whole new level.
“Do you have any idea who requested the info?”
“No, but I’ll find out. Watch yourself. There could be another player you don’t know about.”
“Thanks for the heads up.”
“Hey, that’s what partners are for.”
Billy closed his phone. Partners. He didn’t think so. The way he saw it, he’d been the one to do all the work. He should be the one to reap the rewards.
Shaking his head to dispel useless thoughts, he checked to see he had all he needed. Things had just potentially gotten more complicated, which was the last thing he needed. But that internal alarm also just got a bit louder.
He had the feeling he didn’t have a moment to spare.
* * * *
Annie loved riding with her men almost as much as she loved having sex with them. She enjoyed their easy moods, their senses of humor. She enjoyed talking with them, exchanging ideas about anything and everything.
She also loved her horse. Razzmatazz seemed the perfect name for the mare. Her coat gleamed shiny blond, and sometimes, when Annie spoke to her, the horse would almost prance, as if sh
e were a Hollywood starlet—or a Las Vegas show girl.
Those emotions were notable enough, and her heart felt fuller than it ever had. But the most surprising thing of all was that Annie had fallen in love with the land.
She’d grown up on the edge of a large city, and then moved to the largest city in the eastern United States. She’d never felt any desire to get away from the urban sprawl and concrete jungle, had been perfectly happy where she’d been planted for most of her life.
Her westward migration had been brought on by grief, by her desire to start fresh, and it had been a matter of pure luck she’d landed in Branchton, Wyoming. She’d never camped, never done anything that could be considered even remotely ‘outdoorsy’.
Yet she was falling in love with the land. Falling in love, period. She shoved that last thought away. She could not, would not fall in love. Being in lust was enough, and more than she dreamed possible just one year ago.
The Medicine Bow Mountains rose up in the west, and Annie couldn’t help being moved by them. Used to towers of cement and steel, Mother Nature’s skyscrapers seemed grander, almost spiritual. Used to an abundance of trees, the grasslands at first seemed strange and barren. Yet now, as she rode with her lovers across their land, as they came upon the streams and creeks that flowed and bubbled, she appreciated the grasses, flowers, and trees that lined those natural waterways.
For the past few minutes, the men led the way, side by side. Following, she felt free to admire them. Talk about Mother Nature’s masterpieces. Each possessed unique qualities. Each had found different ways to endear himself to her. Looking at them now, fresh from their bed, she honestly couldn’t say that she cared more for one than the other.
She loved them equally.
She loved them. Closing her eyes for a moment, she allowed herself to revel in the truth. Yes, she did love them, and that was a miracle. But she wouldn’t look to the future. She would only take each day as it came. Eventually, they would move on. But until then, she would enjoy them.
Grant turned in his saddle, looked at her. “Jesse and I have something we want to show you.”
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