Matt

by Lori Wilde

  “Unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury of being choosy. He’s the only one who showed up for the job and he accepted what I could afford to pay.” She lifted her shoulders in a defensive gesture.

  “How do you know he’s not an illegal alien?” Matt chided, disturbed by her glib trust in a total stranger.

  “So what if he is?”

  “You’d be breaking the law, Savannah.”

  “He showed me a social security card.”

  “Those can be faked.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “Are you going to arrest me, Matt?”

  Damn that hardheaded streak of hers. The woman’s unwillingness to listen to reason irritated him no end. Frustrated, he plowed a hand through his hair.

  “You allow a total stranger to stay at your ranch without checking his background? Two women and a baby living all alone out here. Very foolhardy, Mrs. Markum.” He forced himself to speak her married name. The word caught in his throat, bitter as gall.

  “Clem lives here, too.”

  “Yeah. But he’s as old as the hills and twice as slow.” “That’s why I had to hire a younger man to do the ranch work,” Savannah snapped.

  “You still should have checked him out.”

  “Unlike some people I know, I trust Julio.”

  Matt winced. Score one for the rancher’s wife. Her statement pierced him clean through the heart. Yep. Same old savage-tongued Savannah.

  “So, are you finished interrogating me?” Savannah tapped her toe and slanted him another dirty look down the end of her nose.

  Her cocky manner made him want to suck ground glass. Didn’t she realize she’d laid herself wide open for trouble? Whatever had happened to those Santa Gertrudis, Matt suspected that Julio Diaz might be involved. Matt met her bold gaze, narrowed his eyes and mentally dared her to look away.

  She stared him down, rising to his unspoken challenge. Looking deep into those murky brown eyes, Savannah inhaled fiercely. She felt as if she’d hit a brick wall traveling ninety miles an hour—shattered, splattered, gone.

  “Do you think I might speak to the trustworthy Mr. Diaz?” Matt’s tone oozed sarcasm.

  “He’s gone into town.”

  “Convenient.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “Nothing. Merely making an observation.”

  “Maybe you should keep your observations to yourself.”

  “May be.”

  They stood like two warriors. Each ready for battle, but neither quite sure why they were fighting.

  Savannah finally dropped her gaze, unable to continue the intensity of their visual connection. Looking at him brought back all the old pain, the loneliness, the moments of despair, precipitated by that awful night when he’d been wounded and they’d argued over his career. The same night she’d caught him kissing Jackie Spencer.

  Briefly she closed her eyes and swallowed hard, remembering the scene as if it were yesterday—the dark interior of Kelly’s noisy, smoky bar, crowded on a Saturday evening with cowpokes and their girls, the jukebox blaring Hank Williams’s “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry.”

  And then the sight of Matt perched on a bar stool, fresh from the hospital emergency room, his arm in a sling. Jackie Spencer had been cuddled up next to him, her lips on his as if they’d been surgically implanted there. The effects of his betrayal still hurt even after all these years.

  “How about Clem?”

  “Huh?” Savannah blinked herself back to the present.

  “Is he here? I’d like to question him about the disappearing cattle.”

  “Yeah. Sure. He’s in the barn.”

  “Anything else missing?” Matt arched an eyebrow.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Better check on that, too. The thieves have been taking ranching equipment along with the cattle. Even stole one man’s gold-plated belt buckle.”

  “The thieves? You mean there’ve been other robberies?”

  Matt nodded.

  “You think it’s an organized ring?”

  “Yes, I do. I’ll need you to inventory your supplies.”

  “Okay.”

  “Let’s go talk to Clem.”

  The awkward silence grew as they drove to the farmhouse. So much lay between them, unresolved, unspoken, but buried beneath the surface ready to explode. Matt held his shoulders rigid, his jaw clenched tight. The woman had destroyed him once. He’d never be stupid enough to let her get close again.

  “So, you’ve got yourself a ranch,” he said at last.

  Savannah wasn’t sure how to respond. “Gary left the ranch to me, yes.”

  “Is that why you married him, Savannah? To get your hands on the Circle B?”

  She stared at him. Was that what Matt really thought of her? Did he believe her to be so mercenary she’d marry for money? If he only knew the truth! And as far as money went, well, she hovered one step away from bankruptcy. Gary’s medical bills had eaten up a large chunk of his insurance money, leaving very little to run the ranch. The loss of the Gerts made things worse, since she’d been intending to sell some of them to pay for Ginger’s wedding.

  “I married Gary because he was a good, honest man.”

  “But did you love him?” The word love broke brittle against Matt’s tongue, like the sound of cracking glass.

  “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

  Matt snorted. “I never really knew you, did I, Savannah?”

  “I suppose not,” she answered in a clipped tone. At one time, she’d thought she knew everything about Matt Forrester—his affinity for chocolate ice cream on a sugar cone, his dislike of television, the ripe, salty taste of his skin, his hopes and dreams of one day becoming sheriff of Nolan County. The same dreams that had driven the initial wedge between them. Now, she realized just how foolishly naive she’d really been. She’d never known what was in his heart.

  He stopped the Jeep outside the barn. Relieved, Savannah got out, anxious to distance herself from this disturbing man who dredged up a past she wanted desperately to forget.

  “Clem,” she called out, fully aware of Matt following doggedly in her tracks.

  The elderly ranch hand appeared in the doorway of the bam, wiping his hands on a dirt-smeared rag. “Whatcha need, Miss Savannah?”

  “Mr. Forrester would like to speak with you about the missing cattle.”

  “Oh.” Clem shifted his weight, dropped his gaze.

  Matt pulled a black notebook and a pen from his pocket. He moved forward and extended his hand. “Hello, Clem, do you remember me?”

  Clem nodded, grasped Matt’s hand but quickly let go. “Sure do, you’re Asa Forrester’s boy.”

  “That’s right.”

  Clem sized Matt up with a sideways glance. “Done pretty good for yourself, I see.”

  “I was lucky enough to get the job I wanted.”

  Lucky, hell. Savannah knew Matt had poured his heart and soul into pursuing a law-enforcement career. He’d placed it even above their relationship. Hard work, determination and personal sacrifice had landed him the job and nothing else.

  “Yeah,” Clem said. “Some of us ain’t been so lucky.” “I want you to tell me about the missing cattle.” Matt waited, pen poised over the notepad.

  “Mind if I smoke?” Clem asked, digging in his shirt pocket with nicotine-stained fingers for a pack of cigarettes.

  “You nervous, Clem?” Matt asked.

  “Me? Nah. Why should I be nervous?”

  Clem struck a match, fumbled it to the ground. Savannah noticed his hand trembled slightly as he tried again, this time succeeding in his attempt to light the cigarette.

  Matt pursed his lips. “I don’t know, Clem, you tell me.” “I ain’t got nothin’ to hide.”

  “That’s real good.” Matt gave the man a dangerous smile. “Then you haven’t got anything to worry about.” “You accusing me of something?” Clem took a drag off his cigarette.

  “Just doing my job, Mr. Olson
.”

  Clem sent Savannah a beseeching glance. “You don’t think I stole them cows, do you, Miss Savannah?”

  “Of course not, Clem.” She glared at Matt. Why was he badgering the elderly man? He was obviously too old to be a threat. Besides, he’d worked for Gary’s family for over twenty years. If Matt Forrester thought Clem Olson was involved, he was barking up the wrong tree.

  “It’s my duty to be suspicious of everyone.” Matt sent Savannah a look so cool it startled her. Did he consider her a suspect, too? What rubbish. Why would she steal her own cattle?

  “We first noticed something unusual when Julio and I went out to feed this morning.” The cigarette seemed to have boosted Clem’s confidence.

  “What did you see?” Matt quizzed.

  Clem shrugged. “West pasture gate hanging open. We drove closer and saw the busted lock.”

  “Is that when you reported the thefts to Mrs. Markum?”

  “No.”

  * ‘ Why did you wait? ’ ’

  An uneasy expression crossed Clem’s face. “Didn’t want to worry her needlessly. She’s got enough troubles right now.”

  “How very gallant of you,” Matt mocked.

  When had he become so cruel? Savannah wondered. The Matt she remembered was kindhearted and generous to a fault. Had working in law enforcement changed him, or was it something else?

  “Julio and I searched for a downed fence,” Clem continued. “We kept hoping the cattle had just wandered off.”

  “Rather optimistic. So how long after you discovered the cattle missing did you report this to Mrs. Markum?”

  “About five hours.”

  “Five hours?” Matt asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Long time to wait, isn’t it?”

  “I dunno.”

  “Why did you wait five hours, Clem? Don’t you realize it’s important to report a crime as soon as possible? For all your stalling, the cattle could be halfway to Mexico by now.” Matt’s face twisted into an ugly, unfamiliar expression.

  “I... I.. .just wanted to protect Miss Savannah,” Clem stuttered.

  “Stop it!” Savannah shouted, clenching her hands into fists.

  Matt turned on his heels to face her. “You got a problem?”

  “This isn’t a trial and you’re not a lawyer. Stop harassing him.”

  “You want me to take him in for questioning?”

  “No, sir,” Clem burst in. “I’ll cooperate.”

  “Thank you,” Matt told the older man. “Now, did you or Julio see or hear anything out of the ordinary over the last few days? Any strangers hanging around? Crank calls? People asking questions about the ranch? Anything like that?”

  Clem shook his head.

  “What do you think about Julio Diaz?”

  “He’s a hard worker.”

  “Does he ever have visitors out here?”

  “Nope. Real quiet, keeps to himself.” Clem relaxed a little, crushed the spent cigarette butt beneath the toe of his boot.

  “Have you noticed anything else missing?” Matt asked.

  Clem shook his head.

  “Think real hard.” Matt stepped forward, thrusting out his chest in an intimidating stance. “Any equipment missing? Saddles? Barrels? Feed? Rope? Even something as simple as gardening tools?”

  “No, sir.”

  Savannah folded her arms. She’d never seen this authoritative side of Matt—the inquisitive, hard-nosed detective. And although she dreaded having him so close, she was glad he was on the case. If anyone could get her cattle returned, Matt Forrester could.

  He looked at Savannah. “You, too. I want an inventory of your equipment. I want to know if even one nail is missing.”

  “Why are you so sure they took more than just the cattle?” Savannah challenged.

  “Because in the last three months there have been six thefts in this county, and each and every time, the robbers took supplies as well as cattle. Usually things they could pawn quickly. Now, are you going to get that inventory list ready forme?”

  Savannah raised her chin. He couldn’t order her around like this. “After I finish sewing the zipper into Ginger’s wedding dress,” she said.

  “No,” Matt corrected. “You’ll make it your first priority.”

  Anger flared inside her. Who did he think he was? Thank heavens she hadn’t been stupid enough to marry such a bossy, opinionated male.

  “Listen here, Matt Forrester,” she began.

  A tinny beeping noise interrupted her speech. For the first time she noticed the small black box clipped to the waistband of his blue jeans.

  “May I use your phone?” he asked.

  “Of course.” Savannah led him across the yard, through the back door and into the kitchen. Cody sat in his high chair, happily spitting mashed potatoes at Ginger. Savannah pointed Matt in the direction of the telephone, then went over to relieve Ginger.

  “What’s up?” her younger sister mouthed.

  Savannah shrugged, took the bowl of potatoes from Ginger and smiled at her son. “Come on, Cody Coo, eat a bite for Mama.”

  Cody waved his hands and shook his head.

  Savannah pretended to be engaged in feeding her son, but couldn’t help listening to Matt’s conversation. “Matt Forrester here,” Matt growled into the phone. He turned his back to the room and lowered his voice. “What’s up?”

  “Isn’t this awful?” Ginger whispered in Savannah’s ear. “Matt Forrester assigned to our case.”

  Savannah rolled her eyes.

  “When?” Matt asked the person on the other end of the line. “Right. I’ll get on it immediately. Thanks for the tip, Midge. I owe you.”

  Midge? Who was she? Savannah wondered. Matt had spoken to the woman in an awfully friendly tone. Jealousy rolled through Savannah’s veins like hot oil. Why on earth should she be jealous? She’d gotten over Matt Forrester years ago.

  Matt hung up the phone, then turned to face Savannah. “I’ve got to go,” he said.

  “Something more important than my missing cattle?” She didn’t even try to disguise the sarcasm.

  Matt pulled car keys from his pocket. “Remember the fella I told you about who got his gold belt buckle stolen?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Somebody spotted a guy sporting that same belt buckle down in San Antonio.”

  “You’re going to San Antonio?”

  “Yep.”

  “Now?”

  “It’s my job. Good thing you married a rancher instead of a sheriff’s detective, eh, Savy.”

  Savy. The oid term of endearment sliced through her, barbed-wire sharp. No one but Matt had ever called her Savy.

  “What am I suppose to do in the meantime?” she asked, following him to the front door.

  “Keep your eyes and ears open, make out that inventory list. I’ll be back as soon as I can to speak to Mr. Diaz.”

  She raised a hand to her throat. For the first time, a tug of fear ate at her. She, Ginger and the baby were alone, isolated, unprotected.

  “What if the thieves come back?”

  An arrogant grin crossed his face. “Why, darlin’, you just tell them Matt Forrester is on their case.” And with that he leaned down, planted a quick kiss on her startled lips, then turned and swaggered out the door.

  Fuming, Savannah slammed the screen door behind him and stormed back to the kitchen. What arrogant nerve! She’d rather have all her cattle missing than put up with the likes of Matt Forrester. How in the world was she going to survive such an infuriating man?

  Chapter Two

  Why in Sam Hill had he kissed her? Matt wondered for the hundredth time. What had he been thinking? Had he lost his ever-loving mind? Still, the look on Savannah’s face had been priceless. He’d definitely caught her off guard. But that brief brushing of their lips had undone him, too. There was no denying it, the sparks remained, just as sizzling as before.

  Matt guided the Jeep onto the freeway, heading south to San Antonio. His behav
ior had been clearly unprofessional. He couldn’t allow himself to be sidetracked by Savannah Markum’s arresting beauty.

  Think of something else, Forrester. Quit visualizing her long legs, her soft flesh pressed flush against your skin, her fingers entwined in your hair, her.

  “Arg!” He groaned aloud and shook his head. This had to stop.

  He switched on the radio to an all-news station in an attempt to empty his head. Concentrate on the thefts. Piece together the puzzle. Review the evidence. Anything. Anything at all to eliminate the intoxicating vision of Savannah Markum from his brain.

  Okay. Fact—in the course of the last three months, six ranches had been robbed and over fifty head of cattle stolen in Nolan County. Plus various ranching and farming equipment had been taken, including saddles, bridles, baling wire, lanterns, Cal Hickey’s gold belt buckle, posthole diggers, even a tractor.

  Most of the burglaries occurred at night or when the owners were out of town. The perpetrator had to be someone familiar with the area and the comings and goings of the local residents. Matt knew that much for sure.

  But he had almost no clues. Until the belt buckle. The thieves were making him feel like a fool, and Matt Forrester hated to be one-upped. He would not be defeated.

  For the last five years, since Savannah’s cruel rejection, he’d funneled all his energy into law enforcement. He lived it, breathed it, reveled in it. The job sustained him, nourished him, fed him through that terrible dark period in his life after Savannah had married and given her virginity to another man. The knowledge that Gary Markum had taken what had rightfully belonged to him caused Matt to grit his teeth. In order to deal with the brash agony that had consumed his soul, Matt had made work his entire world.

  The experience had hardened him, yes. But it had also honed him into a razor-sharp detective. He should thank Savannah for dumping him. And yet, things should have been so different. He winced. Savannah should have been his wife, Cody his child. She’d even named the boy after him. Why? What did that mean?

  “It means nothing, Forrester,” he growled. “Nada, zip, zero.” Savannah had made her choice, and no amount of wishing could change that fact.

  Yet here he was, thinking about her again. Resolutely, Matt pushed her image aside. Tonight, he had a mission in San Antonio. Tonight, he would focus on his job. Tonight, he would erase Savannah from his brain, for tomorrow would be soon enough to face her and the tangled shreds of their complicated past.