The other part was that no man had tempted her to break the drought. But something about Eli reminded her that being man-less didn’t keep a girl warm at night. And she had a feeling Eli possessed all the skills needed to open the floodgates and end the drought.
***
Justin Bennett sat on his living room couch, staring at the dark shadow spoiling the tile floor. He’d have to get the cleaning crew out again, wasn’t going to pay them shit if they couldn’t get the goddamn blood out of the goddamn tile. Fucking Chloe. If she would’ve shut the hell up, she’d still be alive. But no, she’d kept yammering at him, harp, harp, harping until it had felt like his head would explode. Called him a dirty cop. She didn’t get it. Had never gotten it. Didn’t understand the pressure he was under. His dad, his fucking brother, had set the bar high, managing to wear the uniform with distinction and still take what was their due on the side. Justin was trying his best to do right by the family name. And the lying bitch never understood that the nice house, the expensive little Audi coupe she’d liked to drive, came with a price tag.
He hadn’t meant to hit her, but she kept at it, and the next thing he knew, he’d been standing with a bloody bookend in his hand, and her head smashed in on one side. Then he’d heard a noise and looked up to find the bitch’s best friend staring at him like he was the devil himself. And now the best friend, the too perfect Gwen who’d always looked at him like he was something nasty the cat hacked up, had gone to ground.
He’d gotten a computer geek who owed him a big-time favor and they’d done some digging. There’d been no action on any of her credit or bankcards but they’d managed to track her phone. He’d thought everything was shaking out fine, the coroner’s report and the police report had both held up his version of the events of that night. Then all he’d had to do was follow the handy trail laid by modern technology. When the phone pinged in Flagstaff, he figured a quick trip to Arizona, take care of business, bury the bodies out in the desert, and he’d be home free. But by the time he’d gotten to Flagstaff, the trace indicated the phone was in Gallop. He’d driven to New Mexico, finally pinned down the phone’s location in Albuquerque, and when he’d kicked in the motel room door, instead of Gwen and the kid, he’d found a big tattooed dude banging a hooker. Tattooed dude had not liked being interrupted. Justin wiggled his sore jaw, glad the fucker hadn’t broken it.
He’d gotten out of that situation without killing anyone, but now he was back to square one. Who’d have thought bitch’s best friend would ditch her phone and send him on a wild-goose chase? Tracking her down was inconvenient, and he wanted her found quick.
Where would she have gone with the kid? He knew she hadn’t contacted her parents. When he’d called, neither Priscilla nor Harold Ballard had been particularly concerned about their daughter’s welfare, assuming she’d gone on vacation like she’d planned. She hadn’t. The beach cottage she’d rented had been empty when he checked. She was on the run. Eventually she would use up her cash and have to resort to a bankcard, and that would set off the trip wire the geek had set up. Either that or she’d get help from someone.
He wondered who would help her. She had friends certainly, people she worked with. Something Chloe had said came back to him. He’d only been half listening, but she’d said something about how she thought Gwen and her brother should get together. The guy was an uptight asshole, but according to what Chloe had called her spark-o-meter, the two pegged it to the red zone. Given that the guy was also the kid’s uncle and lived on some ranch in the boonies, it was a logical place to look for them.
He sure as hell wasn’t going to jackrabbit all over the state hunting down the bitch, but he knew a couple of guys who, for the right price, would head north and see what was up. Once he had a location, then he’d assess whether to pay to have them killed or do the job himself.
Chapter Six
Gwen left her car in a barn-like building Eli called the shop where a thin, wiry man named Jed promised to hunt down whatever had caused the engine to die. Eli had disappeared, so she trudged up the road toward the house, lugging a duffel holding dirty clothes with her.
Cameron stood in the grassy yard with two children, a boy slightly taller than him, and a girl a bit shorter, all in serious conversation. He caught sight of her, said something to the other two, then raced across the yard.
“Aunt Gwenny, guess what? There are kids that live here. Robby and Christy. Their last name is Cutter. Their dad is foreman, but I’m not sure what that means. And there’s a creek that goes up into the mountains. Robby and Christy are Indian. Isn’t that cool? I wish I was Indian.”
Smiling, she brushed back the dark hair from his forehead. For the moment at least, he had let go of his grief. “A foreman is the manager of a ranch. And being Indian is cool.”
“Can I go to the creek with Robby and Christy? I really want to.”
Gwen set the duffel on the porch, then walked with Cameron to where the two children stood eyeing her with curious gazes. Robby had short black hair that stood out straight from his head, while Christy had hers pulled back in a ponytail with a purple band. “Hi, I’m Gwen. Do you go to the creek often?”
They looked at each other in silent communication before turning back to her. Christy spoke, showing a wide gap where her two front teeth were missing. “The creek’s over there.” She pointed across a wide field to where a line of trees indicated a watercourse winding around a fold in the mountains that loomed behind the ranch house. “We go there all the time. I caught a fish yesterday.”
“I’ve caught fish, too.” Robby obviously didn’t want to be outdone by his younger sister.
Gwen glanced up as Eli came out of the barn and headed in their direction. The day had warmed and he’d shucked his flannel shirt and wore a charcoal gray t-shirt tucked into his jeans. He crossed the yard with his loose-jointed walk. With more effort than expected, she forced her gaze back to the children.
“I want to go fishing.” Cameron’s eyes sparkled, and it was apparent the outside world had opened up for him with the possibility of adventure.
Eli put a hand on Cameron’s shoulder. “You know how to swim?”
“He’s not swimming in the creek.” Eli raised a brow at Gwen’s knee-jerk reaction then returned his attention to Cam.
“I can swim across the pool without stopping,” the boy answered enthusiastically.
“Good. No one goes near the creek if they can’t swim.” Eli brought his gaze back to Gwen. “The creek is fast this time of year, but if you want to let him go, they’ll be fine. There’s a path along this side, and these two know where it’s safe to walk.”
“Please, can I go, Aunt Gwenny? You and me have done a ton of hiking, I know what to do.”
“Okay, but use common sense, Cameron. You all be back by lunchtime.”
The Cutter children nodded, and Cameron threw his arms around Gwen for a quick hug before turning to run off with the other two. She smiled. It never occurred to him to be embarrassed by open displays of affection. She picked up the duffle, then went up to the steps to the porch, Eli at her side. Before she opened the door, she turned to face him. He watched her from under the brim of his felt Stetson, an unreadable expression on his face.
“Is there a job I can do on the ranch?”
“A job?”
“I need to earn some cash to pay for the fuel pump, or whatever else my car needs. And to pay Jed for his time. I still have some money, but I’ll need some to live on. So, basically, I need a job.”
“Jed works for me so I pay him.”
She frowned. “Then I’ll add that to my debt to you.”
Gray eyes sparked flint. “Do you think I’m keeping a ledger sheet with a column titled ‘what Gwendolyn owes me’? You don’t owe me a damn thing.”
“You’re being unreasonable. I have to do something. I’m not a freeloader.”
He rested his hands on the belt at his hips, shooting her a look riddled with exasperation. “Let’s get something straight.
I’m not keeping score, I don’t care if you eat the food I buy or use up all the hot water. It’s not important to me. Help out if you want, but stop acting like I’m expecting payment because you’re staying here.”
She nodded reluctantly. “Okay.” She hated being indebted to anyone, monetarily or otherwise. This was definitely her issue more than Eli’s, but she knew what he’d thought of her all those years ago, and didn’t want him thinking she would take advantage of his hospitality. Which only proved to her that his opinion of her mattered, even when she wished it didn’t.
She huffed out a breath. “Eli, I need to do laundry. I can go to a laundromat in town after my car is fixed, but if it’s all the same to you, maybe I could use your machines. In exchange, I’ll do whatever laundry you need done.”
He considered her for a moment, then nodded. “Fine. The basket in my room is full. I’d be obliged if you could throw whatever’s in it in with your things.”
Gwen lugged the duffel bag into the service porch off the kitchen. She emptied it and sorted the dirty clothes into piles, then went upstairs to get Eli’s. Pausing in the doorway to his room, she took a slow survey. He certainly wasn’t a man who went for knickknacks or other personal items. In fact, other than a bookmarked novel sitting on his nightstand, there was nothing that gave a hint of his personality. She glanced at the title. For Whom the Bell Tolls. Reading Hemingway for pleasure sounded painful.
A serviceable quilt of deep navy covered the wide bed and there was an upholstered chair where a shirt and pair of jeans had been tossed. A stack of papers sat on the top of a dresser devoid of any family photos or mementoes to show who was important in his life. Which she guessed was an indication in itself. She crossed the room to where the laundry basket sat piled with clothes and, grabbing it by the handles, carted it out of the room and down the stairs.
It felt oddly intimate adding Eli’s clothes to hers and Cameron’s. She unrolled the sleeves of a deep green chambray shirt and couldn’t prevent herself from bringing it to her nose for a quick sniff of the collar. Leather and pine—how could he smell so good? Calling herself all kinds of crazy, she shoved the shirt into the washer, studied the controls, and pressed a few buttons.
Once the machine was chugging away, she returned the hamper to Eli’s room, all the while thinking over the problem that had been worrying her for the past few days. With Chloe’s death, the police had to be looking for her and Cameron. Why hadn’t Justin played along, notifying law enforcement agencies all over the state that Cameron was missing and she’d taken him? Her best guess was he didn’t want anyone to think there might have been witnesses the night Chloe died. If he could get to them first and, as horrifying as it was to think about, get both her and Cameron out of the way, kill them, then no one would be any the wiser and Chloe’s death would go down as a botched burglary. Sure, someone might question the coincidence of the three deaths, but without evidence to link them, Justin would be in the clear.
What she really wanted to know was what was going on within the police department. Had anyone questioned Justin’s version of events? How had the incident been reported in the papers? Asking Eli for anything was hard, but she wondered if he would use his computer to check what the local papers had reported.
Keeping busy, Gwen made the beds and neatened the bathrooms. The kitchen was next on her list. She didn’t think the oven got much use, but something had left a charred mess behind, so she found cleaner in the pantry, pushed up her sleeves, and began scrubbing.
After lots of elbow grease, Gwen gave a final wipe inside the oven. The front door opened and she could hear Cameron’s excited voice, Eli’s lower tones, and the clicking of the dogs’ nails on the floor. They stepped into the kitchen and she caught a frown from Eli as she closed the over door. His thick, dark hair held the slight indent from where he’d worn his hat, and his jeans bore a streak of what looked like grease across one knee.
“Guess what, Aunt Gwenny, Christy and Robby and me saw a bird catch a fish. It swallowed the fish in one gulp. We’re going to go fishing tomorrow.”
For the first time ever, she had to force herself to pay attention to Cameron. Wrenching her gaze from Eli’s backside as he stood in front of the open refrigerator, she focused on the boy. “Sounds fun. What do you want for lunch?”
“Uncle Eli said we’re having sandwiches. I like sandwiches.”
Eli pulled cold cuts and sliced cheese from the refrigerator and piled them on the counter with a loaf of wheat bread. Mayo and mustard followed, and then a head of lettuce. Gwen rinsed her reddened hands, belatedly wishing for kitchen gloves. After using the towel, she laid slices of bread on a cutting board and opened the jar of mayonnaise.
Eli had taken off his boots at the door. Even in his stocking feet, he towered over her five foot seven frame. When Cameron ran to use the bathroom, Eli cast her a look. “Why the hell are you cleaning my oven?”
“It was filthy?”
“So? It’s my mess, I’ll clean it up.”
“Well, now you won’t have to.” She didn’t want to fight with him, but she wasn’t going to let him walk all over her, either. “If you won’t give me a job, I’ll find work to do.”
He turned to look at her, and for the first time, Gwen felt that he was searching for something deeper. “Are you putting me on? Trying to prove something? The Gwen I met a decade ago would never have cared about using someone.”
Gwen cast her gaze heavenward, hoping to be rewarded with patience. It didn’t come, and her reply was more heated than she intended. “Eli, you didn’t get me then and you don’t get me now. But it doesn’t really matter what you think. I’ll do what I feel is right. And what feels right is not being in your debt. At least as much as I can avoid.”
He gripped her wrists and studied her hands. “Your hands are raw from oven cleaner.”
“It’s no big deal.”
“Dammit, Gwendolyn. I—”
She tugged at her hands. “Don’t you swear at me.”
“I am not swearing at you.”
“You just did.”
“I used a mild swear word, but I wasn’t swearing at you.”
“You said, ‘Dammit, Gwendolyn.’ That’s swearing at me.”
He pulled her closer. “Do you want to know what else I’d like to do with you?”
She refused to let the intriguing whiff of pine distract her. “Wring my neck?”
“Not what I was thinking.”
The heated look in his eyes sent a flush of warmth to her cheeks and she took a hasty step back. He released her when Cameron came back into the room, turning back to the counter where he slapped roast beef and cheese onto bread.
Gwen made sandwiches for her and Cameron and sliced some apples. Anything to distract her from her reaction to Eli was good.
Eli opened a bag of chips and they all sat down to eat, Cameron diverting her attention with talk of his morning. “We saw tracks from a horse. Robby said they shouldn’t be there, that all Uncle Eli’s horses were in the barn or the pasture and that a stranger must have ridden along the creek.”
Eli frowned. “Did Robby say how recent the tracks were?”
Cameron nodded. “He said he thought they’d been made yesterday.”
Eli went back to his meal, brows lowered. After Cameron had cleared his plate and taken it to the dishwasher, Gwen let him go outside again with the Cutter children. She made herself busy and avoided looking at Eli. She really wasn’t enjoying the sensation of hyper awareness whenever she was around him.
Finished with his meal, Eli stood beside the open kitchen door. The fenced backyard was bordered by a cluster of aspen trees. Gwen thought he was going outside, but he hesitated and instead strode back through the kitchen toward his office. He was back moments later, a small black radio in his hand. “Gwen.”
She raised her brows in question.
“There’s no cell coverage here so I want you to keep this with you at all times.” He held up a two-way radio, then
twisted a knob. “Turn it on and adjust the volume with this, hold the side button down while you’re speaking. Push the red button and it will send out an emergency alert.” He handed her the radio. “Always keep an eye out. You see anyone you don’t recognize, call me immediately. Even if you’re not sure. When the guys are all back in the bunkhouse this evening, I’ll take you over and introduce you. I want you to know who belongs on the ranch.”
“Are you worried about whoever left those tracks? There’s no way that could be Justin, he’d never be on horseback.”
“I know, but we’ve been having some other trouble lately. Whoever it was could be tied to that. Radio me, no matter if you think it’s important or not.” He walked toward the hallway, then hesitated. When he turned back, his expression didn’t reveal any emotion. “We need to keep up the story we told Jack.”
“What story?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, realization dawned. He wanted to keep up the girlfriend-boyfriend story.
“About you and me. The ranch hands will be more watchful if they think you’re mine.”
She let out a short laugh and shook her head. “No way. They won’t believe it.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why wouldn’t they?”
“C’mon, Eli.” When he continued to look puzzled, she held up her hands in surrender. “Never mind.” She thought the antagonism she felt around Eli was so obvious nobody would believe they were together.
He didn’t say anything for a long moment, then a devilish gleam lit his eyes. “You want to practice making it look realistic? I could kiss you and you could pretend to like it.”
“Ha ha.”
His gaze traveled over her face and his eyes sharpened. With his hand on the doorway, he said, “I was only half joking. Later, Gwendolyn.”
She watched him walk away with the uncomfortable realization pretending would be completely unnecessary.
Chapter Seven
Determined not to think about Eli’s comment and to do what she could to help out, Gwen stood in the pantry taking stock of supplies. If his pantry with all its shelves of canned food was any indication, Eli wasn’t much on cooking. She’d discovered a large chest freezer in the service porch, and decided to see if there was anything there that could be made into dinner. She inspected the contents and decided Eli had packaged meat from an entire steer. There were steaks, roasts, ribs, and other cuts of meat, all wrapped in white butcher paper and marked. Grabbing one that said ground round, she returned to the kitchen and placed the package on a plate to defrost. Further inspection of the pantry came up with pasta and two jars of spaghetti sauce. There were also plastic containers of flour and sugar and a few baking supplies. She pulled a jar of sauce off the shelf, and then stopped to think.
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