Genuine Cowboy

by Joanna Wayne

  “All clear,” Sean said, as he joined her in the den. “Troy’s got things under control.”

  Eve turned on the TV and read the rolling caption beneath the picture. An explosion in Dallas. Two police officers killed. And then she saw the image and she knew that Italy was officially off the table.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “A house explosion last night in a quiet Dallas neighbor hood left two local police officers dead and the house in ruins. Neighbors as far as five blocks away reported being wakened by the blast. The owner of the house, Eve Worthington, was not at home when the explosion occurred. She has not been reached for comment, but we hope to have a statement from her soon.”

  The news went on and on. The words were like garbled static scratching across Eve’s mind. She struggled to make sense of the continuous barrage of meaningless interviews with neighbors she barely knew and a police spokesperson who talked in circles, never zeroing in on the sordid truth.

  A different reporter appeared on the screen. This one talked of Eve’s connection to the prison system and mentioned that she’d worked not only with recently escaped prisoner Orson Bastion, but with Troy Ledger. Apparently, they’d done their homework.

  The reporter further mentioned that Eve had recommended against Orson’s parole and that she’d gone on record as saying that she would trust convicted wife-killer Troy Ledger with her life.

  The screen divided into two sections. The reporter on the right reminded the viewing audience that it was Eve’s husband who was killed in a drive-by shooting in that same neighborhood almost two years ago. She questioned if the two events could be related.

  The screen switched back to a view of Eve’s house—or rather its charred remains. This time the view was much clearer. The chimney stood like a lone general whose soldiers had died in the flames. Part of a huge beam lay over the untouched brick mailbox at the street.

  Joey’s room was gone completely. All his favorite possessions had turned to ashes. All the things he should have gone home to when this nightmare was over were destroyed. Even the bed he would have been sleeping in if she’d stayed in Dallas had apparently become incendiary fuel for the blaze that had claimed their home.

  Her stomach rolled.

  She jumped up and ran to the bathroom, making it there just in time to throw up what felt like the lining of her stomach. Sean wet a cloth with cold water and held it to her head. She hated he was seeing her this way.

  “There’s no need to hear more,” he said.

  Tears burned in her eyes. “I’ve lost everything. Joey’s baby book. My pictures. Letters from my mother before she died of cancer. My father’s dog tags and the flag from the top of his coffin. It’s all gone.”

  “Maybe not. You know how news reporters are. They always show things from the worst possible angle. Some of the treasures may be salvageable.”

  “The house is gone, Sean. There is no good angle. I should have known Orson would win.”

  “He didn’t win. You’re alive, Eve, and so is Joey.”

  “But how many other people will have to die before he stops seeking his demonic revenge?”

  Sean tried to pull her into his arms, but the emotional trauma wouldn’t let her accept comfort. She beat her fists into his chest. “How many others? And how long before he finds a way to get to me?”

  “He’ll never get to you. I won’t let him.”

  “You can’t stop him. Can’t you see that? No one can.”

  “I can stop him,” Sean said. “And I will.”

  But he couldn’t; and if he tried he’d end up dead. They might all end up dead. The next explosion could be here in this house, with them inside it.

  Tears poured down her cheeks and shudders shook her body. This time, when Sean took her in his arms, she held on tight and kept holding on until she ran out of tears.

  There was only one sane thing left for her to do, and it did not involve a trip to Italy.

  THE FIRE HAD BEEN A SIGHT to behold. Eve’s house had become a glorious inferno that lit the sky in brilliant shades of reds, oranges and yellows. Orson had been close enough to feel the heat and to hear the crackle and pop as the support beams fell and the wood splintered.

  It had been quite a night, one that he hadn’t spent in the mold-infested, mildewed cabin on Lake Livingston. This grimy motel room wasn’t much better, but it was only for a night.

  All that was left was for him to pick up the money from Alyssa and kidnap Nick.

  Then look out, Mexico. Escaped convict Orson Bastion was headed to a bar near you.

  Orson loaded his toothbrush with a minty paste and turned on the TV so that he could bask in his success while he brushed his full three minutes. He surfed three stations till he hit pay dirt. Ah, yes. They were even giving him credit for his handiwork. He walked back to the bathroom to spit.

  When he returned, the reporter was talking about Troy Ledger and contrasting what Eve had said about him at the time of his release on a technicality, to what she’d testified at Orson’s parole hearing.

  She’d trust Troy Ledger with her life. Like the man could—

  Orson choked on the toothpaste when the truth practically pounced from the TV and into his mind.

  Eve had run to Troy Ledger when she’d heard that Orson had escaped prison. He’d saved her life once, so she assumed he could do it again.

  Now they were talking about Troy’s ranch in Mustang Run. This was priceless. There would be a slight delay in reaching Mexico while Orson devised a new strategy.

  He could make good on his threat and avenge his mother’s death. He owed that to Lydia and to himself.

  “OH, NO. NOT AGAIN. This is exactly how it was the day Troy returned from prison.”

  Eve rushed to the front window and peeked over Collette’s shoulder to see what she was talking about.

  “It’s the media sharks,” Collette said. “They go on a feeding frenzy anytime they smell a story that involves the infamous Troy Ledger.”

  Eve stared, horrified at the crowds gathering not ten yards from the front door. “This is private property. They can’t just drive onto this land.”

  “They can unless someone stops them.”

  “The sheriff should.”

  “My dad’s the sheriff,” Collette said. “He’d come and bring his deputies if Troy called him, but Troy won’t. There’s a bit of bad blood between them. It goes way back and is much too complicated to get into today.”

  Sean and Dylan strode into the room together. “Don’t gawk at them,” Sean said. “It will only encourage them to start popping flashbulbs.”

  When two more vans drove up, Eve said, “You should call the sheriff and have those people arrested for trespassing.”

  “I’m way ahead of you. Dylan and I have already hired an Austin security firm to disperse this crowd as peacefully as possible, and to stand guard at the gate to keep others from getting in.”

  “There will be some who’ll just bust through the fence and tear up the pastures to try and get the scoop,” Dylan said. “But we’ll have guards around the house twenty-four seven.”

  “Then you expected this?” Eve asked.

  “From the second you turned on the TV this morning.” Sean put a hand on Eve’s shoulder. “And don’t start blaming yourself. You’re the victim, not the aggressor.”

  But she was the one who’d brought this on the Ledgers—and while Troy was still recovering from a coronary attack.

  “Has anyone seen Joey?” Eve asked, fighting panic when she didn’t hear his miniature cars rolling up and down the hallway.

  “He’s watching Dad shave,” Dylan said. “Dad’s trying to convince him that it doesn’t hurt when the hairs come off.”

  “He’s not used to having a man in the house,” Eve said.

  “Okay, here’s the new and approved house rules,” Sean announced. “No female leaves this house without a male accompanying her. And by male, I mean an adult male, not Joey.”

  “Isn’t
that going a bit overboard?” Collette questioned. “The media mongrels may hound and aggravate us, but they’re not actually dangerous.”

  “It’s not the press they’re concerned about,” Eve said. “It’s Orson Bastion. With this many reporters checking out everything in sight, it’s only a matter of time until one of them reports that I’m here.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” Collette went back to the window, pushed back the curtain and looked out. “Your car’s gone, Eve.”

  “I moved it into the large shed behind the house,” Sean said. “It’s no longer in the open, but someone will snoop around and get the license plate number. I moved the packages and the rest of your luggage that was in the trunk into the garden bedroom, Eve, in case you need them.”

  “Thanks.” What she had with her now was all she had.

  Joey came running down the hallway. “Guess what?”

  “The circus is coming to town,” Sean muttered under his breath.

  Beside him, Eve whispered, “I’m pretty sure it’s already here.”

  Joey asked his question again.

  “Tell us.” Sean moved to the window and closed the shutter, blocking out the sunshine along with the crowd.

  Joey obliged, eager to share his news. “Mr. Ledger said we can decorate the tree today, and not with that old stuff you buy at the store. We’re making our own decorations, and guess what else?”

  Sean put his fingers to his temple as if her were concentrating. “We’re going to string popcorn for the tree, and we can eat all we want.”

  Joey kicked the air. “How did you know?”

  “I have super, bionic brain cells.”

  “And he did the same thing when he was a kid,” Troy said.

  Eve knew they were keeping this light for Joey’s sake. She loved them for it, but it didn’t change what she had to do. But first she’d decorate that tree and let Joey add his own special Christmas favorites. Then hopefully, she’d find a private moment to kiss Sean one last time before she took matters in her own hands. Well, hers and Detective Conner’s.

  ALYSSA’S HEART FLOPPED AROUND in her chest like a dying goldfish when the TV talked about Eve Worthington and her son. The boy was not even six years old yet, and he’d already seen his father shot down in cold blood. Now his house had burned to the ground.

  They kept talking about Orson knowing the woman and how she was the shrink who said that if he got paroled, he’d kill someone else. Eve Worthington didn’t know the half of it. Now that their mother had died, no one knew the truth about Orson and what he was capable of except Alyssa.

  She had no doubts but that he’d blown up that shrink’s house. He’d known how to make bombs since high school. He’d downloaded directions from the internet. Orson always said he could learn everything he needed to know from the internet. Everyone could, if they knew how to look for it.

  But Orson wouldn’t be satisfied with just blowing up that woman’s house, not after what she did to him. Alyssa knew Orson was hanging around Texas for a reason. And it wasn’t just the cash he’d had her get. If it had been, he’d have picked up the money yesterday.

  He was going to kill that woman, and then her son would have nobody.

  Alyssa had covered for Orson all his life. First it had been because her mother had made her. Now it was because she was afraid of him.

  But killing a kid’s mother just wasn’t right.

  Alyssa stuck her hand in her pocket and pulled out the card Detective Reagan Conner had given her. She had the money and the time and the godforsaken place to meet Orson so that she could turn over his escape funds.

  She punched in the number and waited.

  “Conner speaking.”

  “Detective, this is Alyssa Coleman.”

  “I was hoping we’d hear from you. Do you have information that will help us locate you brother?”

  “Yes sir, I do.”

  BY FOUR IN THE AFTERNOON, all was quiet on the Ledger lawn. But even more disturbing for Eve than the hordes of noisy reporters were the armed guards who were being paid to keep the media and Orson Bastion away.

  Joey in his innocence had said it best. “Momma, make those men go home.”

  She was about to do just that.

  Eve ran her fingers along the back of the ornate wooden garden bench and listened to the soothing sounds of water trickling into the fountain just in front of her. The garden was just one of the things she’d miss about the ranch. Mostly, she’d miss Sean.

  With luck she’d be back in a few days to pick up Joey, but she knew in her heart that things between her and Sean would never be the same once she left the ranch.

  Dropping to the bench, she opened her notebook and began to write.

  Dear Sean,

  I know I’m a coward for not saying this in person, but it would only start an argument that I’m not willing to lose. I came here looking for a place to hide. I found that and so much more. You were great with Joey and you taught this stubborn psychiatrist who thought she knew it all a lot about boys—and about cowboys. All good, I might add.

  So now I need to ask you a huge favor. Please watch over Joey for me until I can return for him. Hopefully, that will be in a few days, but it won’t be until Orson Bastion is either dead or back behind bars. I’ve brought too much chaos and danger to the Willow Creek Ranch already. And I don’t want Orson Bastion anywhere near my son.

  FYI. When this is over, I’ll be available for dinner on the Grand Canal. Or in a dimly lit bistro in Paris, Texas. Your call.

  Ciao,

  Eve

  That should do it. Not too heavy. Not too light. And hopefully, the part about dinner wasn’t too pathetic.

  She sealed the envelope and dropped it in her pocket.

  Taking out her phone, she punched in the number for Detective Conner.

  “Conner here.

  “This is Eve Worthington.”

  “I’m guessing your call means that you caught the morning news.”

  “The news that the two officers you would have used to protect me blew up with my house? Yeah, I heard.”

  “I would have had more than two on the scene if you’d been in the house.”

  “So you’ve said.”

  “I promised to protect you if you returned to Dallas. That promise still holds.”

  “So, do you have any other suggestions on how to use me as bait?”

  “Look, Miss Worthington. It’s been a rough night. I’m sorry about your house. Real sorry. I’m even sorrier that two young police officers lost their lives. And I’m plenty pissed off that we let Orson Bastion get away. So do me a favor and cut the sarcasm.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be sarcastic, just realistic. I was also wondering why you didn’t follow up on the money exchange between Orson and his sister.”

  “I can’t discuss details concerning an ongoing case.”

  “Then can you discuss meeting me somewhere to figure out how I can help you flush out Orson?”

  “I can arrange that. Why are you suddenly interested?”

  “When Orson blew up my house, he also blew my cover. Soon, anyone who’s interested will know that I’m staying at Troy Ledger’s ranch in Mustang Run.”

  “Mustang Run is out of my jurisdiction. I can’t promise any kind of protection unless you return to Dallas.”

  “Then let’s make a deal.”

  “You sound as if you have terms.”

  “I do. Find a way to get me on every radio and TV station in the area. I want everyone to see that I’m back in Dallas. Leak where I’ll be staying to the media, and then have enough men there to make sure you capture Orson Bastion while I’m still alive to celebrate.”

  “I can do that. I can also have a Texas Ranger pick you up at the Ledger ranch.”

  “That won’t work. How about having him pick me up in Mustang Run? There’s a big Baptist church on the highway, just after you pass the city limits sign. I’ll be waiting in the parking lot in a black Honda.”
<
br />   “License plate number?”

  She supplied it.

  “I can have a ranger there in thirty minutes.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  She went back inside just long enough to push the note under Sean’s bedroom door. Then she went back to the garden and pushed the bench up against the stone wall that served as the back enclosure for the garden.

  In seconds, she’d lifted herself to the top of the wall and jumped off on the other side. Her right ankle made an awkward landing. It smarted like crazy when she made a dash for her car.

  Going though guards at the gate could present a problem, so she took Dylan’s complaints about determined reporters at face value. She sped across the pasture, tearing down a couple of fences as she went, and doing major damage to her car’s paint job.

  When she reached the highway, she turned right.

  That’s when the doubts dragged her back into the confusing mire. What if she was making a major mistake? What if the detective couldn’t protect her? What if she never saw Sean again?

  What if Orson killed her as he had the others, and she missed out on the rest of Joey’s life?

  She tightened her grip on the wheel. What if this was the best option she had? Her gut feeling told her that it was. And at least, this way she could keep the danger far away from Joey.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “There’s been a change in plans.”

  “What kind of change?”

  The best kind, where Orson got to take care of things the right way. And since it was Saturday, Orson hadn’t even had to work around Nick’s school schedule. As he’d suspected, the kid was at the park most of the day.

  “As you know, I didn’t get a chance to pick up the money yesterday.”

  “Because you were too busy blowing up houses.”

  “You’re getting a mouth on you, Alyssa. Mom wouldn’t like it.”

  “Eve Worthington has a five-year-old son, Orson.”