Dead Giveaway

by Diane Benefiel

  What if Eli ate with his men? Or with the Cutter family? She and Cameron would still need to eat so she’d have to make something, but how much was the question. Remembering the radio, she retrieved it from where she’d set it on the windowsill over the kitchen sink, turned the knob, and pressed the black bar on the side. “Eli?”

  He must have had the radio in this hand, because his response was immediate. “What is it, sweetheart?”

  Gwen frowned at the device. Sweetheart? Where had that come from? “This is Gwen.”

  “Of course it is. You need me back up at the house?”

  “No,” she answered hastily, lest he was ready to walk through the door.

  “Gwendolyn, what do you need?”

  “Umm, I found the ingredients to put together dinner. Do you mind if I make spaghetti?”

  “Honey, anything you want to make is fine with me.”

  “Right. Then I’ll do that.”

  All through preparing the meal, she pondered his use of endearments, finally deciding she’d have to ask him. She turned on the little kitchen TV and switched it to a news channel. With an ear tuned to any story about a Southern California murder, she started the meat browning on the stove before turning to the refrigerator to rummage for vegetables. A trip to the store for fresh produce was definitely in order. But while Eli didn’t have the bagged salad she liked, he did have a head of iceberg lettuce, a couple of tomatoes, and some carrots. Enough for a simple salad to go with the spaghetti. A loaf of French bread would be welcome, and while it would likely offend Cameron’s sensibilities to eat spaghetti without garlic bread, she figured he’d survive.

  The spaghetti sauce was simmering on the stove and steam rising from the big pot as Gwen broke pasta into the boiling water. She heard the front door open and Eli and Cameron talking as they walked into the house. Feet pounded up the stairs and Gwen picked up a spoon to stir the sauce. She gave a startled yelp when she saw Eli leaning against the doorjamb leading into the kitchen. Once again, he’d shucked his boots before walking through the house, and he’d moved as silently as a panther stalking its prey.

  “Hey.”

  She concentrated on her task, carefully stirring with a wooden spoon and trying not to fidget under his regard.

  He straightened and crossed to the stove, tilting his head to peer into the pot. “Looks great.”

  “It’ll do,” Gwen said as she stepped back. “What’s Cameron doing?”

  “The kid was filthy. I told him to take a shower.”

  “Oh, I need to take his clothes up to him.” She moved to turn down the burner under the sauce.

  “I’ll do it.”

  Startled, Gwen looked up at him. “Um, okay. I’ll get them for you.”

  Eli followed her into the service porch where their clothes were all neatly folded on a countertop that spanned one side of the room. She handed him Cameron’s clothes and he grabbed his own. Gwen returned to the kitchen, wondering why she always felt slightly off balance with Eli. It might be that, like Eli had with her, she had formed preconceived notions about him, and since she and Cameron had arrived at the ranch, Eli had shown her a completely different man, one who appealed to her on many levels.

  Gwen chopped carrots for the salad. When Eli returned, he opened a cupboard and removed dinner plates, crossing to the small kitchen table to set three places. Gwen chewed on her lip, then decided she might as well ask him. “Eli, what was that all about on the radio?”

  “What was what all about?”

  “You know, ‘honey,’ ‘sweetheart’?”

  “Right. You know anyone with a unit can hear what’s being said, don’t you?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Remember that you’re posing as my girlfriend. I wanted to reinforce the idea.”

  She shook her head, not sure why this was so important to him. Before she could voice her reluctance to play along, Cameron walked in and crossed to the stove to peer into the bubbling pots.

  “Spaghetti? I love spaghetti.”

  “I wonder how I knew that. Come here.”

  When he moved to her side, she bent to give his neck an exaggerated sniff. “Wow. You smell good. You must have washed extra well.”

  “Yep, all clean.” Cameron grabbed forks to help Eli finish setting the table. Gwen glanced out the window and saw daylight fading to dusk and a nearly full moon resting just above the eastern peaks. She would have liked to sit on the porch and watch the sky as day gave way to night.

  Bringing her mind back to the task at hand, she drained the pasta before ladling the sauce into a serving dish. In short order, the three of them were seated around the table. Cameron took the lack of garlic bread with equanimity, and shoveled pasta away like a stevedore. Eli seemed content enough, finishing two servings as well as his salad. She wondered what he would have eaten if left to his own devices.

  Once Cameron had cleared his plate, he looked expectantly at Gwen. “Is it house rules?”

  “Ah, no, you and I will work to straighten the kitchen. Eli probably has something else to do.” With this uncomfortable tension humming whenever she was around him, having Eli out of the kitchen felt all around safer.

  Eli raised a brow. “What are house rules?”

  “Nothing.” Gwendolyn spoke quickly.

  “The person who makes dinner doesn’t have to do the cleanup.” Cameron laid it out like the law of the land.

  “Seems fair to me. I guess that means Gwendolyn’s off duty.” Eli refilled his glass from the pitcher of iced tea Gwen had brewed.

  She shook her head. “Not tonight. Gwendolyn has a debt to repay, so that means she’ll do the cleanup with Cameron’s help.”

  Cameron spoke in a stage whisper, “You would be breaking the house rules.”

  “Can’t have you breaking the rules, Gwen.” Eli began piling dirty dishes and walked the load to the counter. When Gwen brought over some utensils, Eli took them from her. “Scram.”

  She raised her hands in surrender and let the boys have the kitchen. Not having to take care of cleanup was a small luxury. Going with her earlier thought, she took the stairs two at a time, grabbed her Uggs from her room, and hustled back down the stairs and out the door. On the porch she sat on a cushioned chair and slipped on her boots. She sat for a moment and took in the residual glow from where the sun had set behind the western mountains. The cast in the evening sky glowed in tones from lavender to deep navy. She rose and crossed the lawn toward the barnyard, tipping back her head as she walked to see the first stars making their appearance in the deep bowl of the sky.

  Stepping inside the well-lit barn, she paused to look around and drew in a deep breath. The smells of hay and horse brought back her happiest memories from when she’d been a teenager.

  While his pantry and kitchen might be lightly stocked and the surfaces in his living room in need of a dust cloth, the cavernous space inside the barn was ruthlessly organized and the animals obviously well cared for. The tack room opened to the left, and everything from curry combs and hoof picks to bridles and saddles were neatly organized. To the right an open door revealed a workshop with a wide range of tools, some for woodworking, and some she had no idea of their purpose. She recognized the sound of steady munching as the horses drew her to the stalls. At the first a sorrel of deep red stuck its head over the door, examining her with liquid brown eyes.

  “Hey, baby.” Wishing she had a carrot to offer, Gwen reached out a hand to stroke the velvety nose. The mare nibbled at her sleeves, but when she realized no treat was in the offing, she returned to her rack of hay. Strolling down the aisle between the stalls, Gwen realized that Eli was more than a cattle rancher. By the look of them, all eight animals were purebred quarter horses. A dark head peered out from the last stall. As she neared, the horse rolled its eyes and laid back his ears.

  She approached with care, mindful that some horses liked to test a newcomer. He pranced back into the stall, and Gwen saw he was a stallion. When he came close again, s
he reached out a hand for his halter. She held firm when he tossed his head. “Hold on, there, big guy.” He was gorgeous. Large for a quarter horse and with the typical broad chest of the breed, this stallion was a blue roan, the black and white hairs in his hide blending beautifully in a coat that was nearly silver in color.

  “Oh, aren’t you handsome.” She stroked his nose, and then his ears when he bent his head so she could reach.

  “What the hell are you doing?” The terse words had the stallion tossing his head.

  Gwen turned to face Eli, raising a brow. “Petting the stallion?”

  “If you recognize he’s a stallion, then you should have known to use a little caution. Stallions can be unpredictable, and this one more so than others.”

  “I’m aware of that. But I also know how to read a horse, and at the moment this blue just wants a little company.”

  Eli studied her. “You know horses?”

  “Yep.” She felt ready to argue but took a different tact. “I didn’t realize you were breeding quarter horses. I can help with them and around the barn, if you like. I can do lots of things. Groom, feed, exercise. Muck out stalls.”

  “Forget it.”

  “Why not? I know what I’m doing.”

  He gave her a discouraging look. “I have a lot of money invested in these animals and I’m not about to let a novice whose daddy bought her lessons at a rich-girl pony club play horsie with them.”

  “You’re a snob, Eli. My parents wouldn’t pay for lessons, so I worked out a deal with the owner of the stables that were closest to my house. I rode my bike there every morning before school for five years to take care of feeding and watering a stable full of horses. After school, I groomed and exercised them. In return, they gave me lessons and let me ride as much as I wanted. My parents may have had money, but they used it as a weapon to control me whenever they could. I learned pretty quickly not to be bought.”

  ***

  Eli narrowed his eyes at Gwen, who all but vibrated with anger. If she was telling the truth, he couldn’t blame her. Spending time with her during the past twenty-four hours had given him a completely different perspective than what he’d held on to for all these years. Riding her bicycle to the stables to care for horses in defiance of her parents took guts. Doing it for five years took grit. Nothing about her was adding up, and Eli had to admit that he wouldn’t have been more surprised if she had said she ran a bookie operation out of her high school locker. He was beginning to wonder how it was that what he knew about her, or, more accurately, what he thought he knew, was not reality.

  “Why didn’t your parents want you to have riding lessons?”

  “They thought it was a waste of time.”

  He waited a beat, but when she didn’t elaborate, he prodded her. “Give me what’s below the surface, Gwen.”

  “It is not like you to look below the surface, Elijah. Don’t you usually make snap judgments and then hold on to them against any and all proof to the contrary?”

  “Seems to me if I did jump to conclusions, you let me do it without a parachute.”

  She crossed her arms and tilted her head, eyes narrowed in accusation. “You know what I remember, Eli? The first time I ever saw you, it was at your mother’s house in the Valley. I was in my freshman year of college, and my parents went on a cruise so Chloe invited me for Thanksgiving.”

  “Your parents ditched you on Thanksgiving?”

  A shrug hitched her shoulders. “My mom and stepfather were into each other, not so much their kid. I didn’t know the dorms closed for the holiday and I couldn’t stay there, so I was glad Chloe invited me. She’d been so excited because you were coming, and she’d talked you up big time so I was looking forward to meeting you. Then you walked in and looked at me like I was something cheap.”

  “You were flirting with that neighbor kid. And you spent the rest of the evening hanging on his every word.”

  “I was talking to him, that’s all. But even if I was flirting, I was a freshman in college. Flirting was part of the curriculum.” She put her hands on her hips. “You know, I wouldn’t have paid him so much attention if you hadn’t acted like a judgmental jerk.”

  He took in the way the flecks in her brown eyes warmed to gold, and how emotion made her face so expressive. He shrugged and decided to be honest. “Maybe I didn’t like you talking to that guy.”

  “Why did you care?”

  “Because, Gwen, I think there’s a basic attraction between us that’s gotten pushed behind all the antagonism.”

  Her cheeks pinkened. “You’re not attracted to me. You’ve made that clear any time we’ve occupied the same space.”

  “I should know if I’m attracted.”

  “That’s nonsense. I’m going to check on Cameron.” When she would have brushed past him, he grabbed her elbow, pulling her close.

  “Want to test my hypothesis?”

  “It’s a stupid hypothesis.”

  “Then it’s not a problem to test it. We kiss, make it a good hot one, and if both sides don’t feel anything, we’ll agree I’m wrong and there is no attraction.”

  She pulled her elbow free. “I don’t have time to play games with you, Eli.”

  He watched her walk out of the barn and disappear into the dark, and knew without a doubt that neither one of them could have lied about feeling nothing.

  The hard bump to his back let him know Xander didn’t like being ignored. Eli turned to stroke the horse’s nose while considering what he would do now, because damn if the idea of kissing Gwen didn’t set his blood pulsing.

  He strode out of the barn after her.

  Chapter Eight

  Eli caught up with Gwen before she could climb the steps to the porch. “Gwen, wait.” When she ignored him, he took her hand to pull her to a stop. “Look, I’ve got poor timing. I’m sorry.”

  Face shadowed in the porch light, she stared at her hand held in his before raising her gaze. “For what?”

  He wanted to sigh in frustration but kept his tone neutral. “I shouldn’t have pushed you. You’ve been through a hell of a lot in the past week.” He paused, then decided he might as well say the rest. “I care about you, and I care about Cameron. We’ve got to work together to keep you both safe.”

  “I don’t want to fight with you. You’ve given Cameron and me refuge and I’m grateful.”

  “Fuck that.”

  Golden brows winged up. “You’re lucky you aren’t one of my kindergartners, Elijah MacElvoy. I don’t tolerate that kind of language.”

  Eli didn’t know if he wanted to pull out his hair by the roots or try out that kiss. “Gwendolyn.”

  “Elijah.” Her tone mimicked his.

  The kissing option was gaining traction. He let go of her hand and took a step back before he acted on the impulse. “Look, you don’t owe me. You want to fight with me? Then fight with me. I would rather have honest emotions than you sucking it up because of some misplaced sense of gratitude.”

  She didn’t say anything while she stood studying him with the darkness behind her. Finally, she gave a brief nod. “Fine.”

  When she made a movement toward the door, he raised a hand to stop her. “Cam is watching TV. He said he’d be okay for a couple of minutes. I want to go over to the bunkhouse and introduce you to the men.”

  “Why?”

  “They know there’s a woman staying in my house. They’ll be curious. I told you earlier why I think us being a couple is a good idea. And it will keep them from getting too friendly.” He watched her process the statement.

  “A couple of these guys see a beautiful woman living here and they’ll be falling all over themselves to do chores close to the house. Plus, you should know who belongs here. I’ve told them you were Chloe’s best friend, and that you brought Cameron to stay with me after she was killed, so they know the score and will keep an eye out for trouble. Each and every one of those men is loyal to me and the Broken Arrow down to the soles of their boots, and they’ll
extend that loyalty to you.” He waited while she worried her bottom lip. “Okay?”

  ***

  Gwen hesitated, then gave a brief nod before joining him to cross the grass to the gravel road. They passed the house with its tidy yard where Ben Cutter lived with his family, to a single-story structure that served as the bunkhouse. Eli knocked. He must have caught her surprise because he said, “I have to respect their privacy. Wouldn’t be right if I waltzed in whenever I wanted.”

  Footsteps approached and Eli laced warm fingers through hers as the door swung open. She wasn’t sure she bought his argument about the need to present themselves as a couple, but she could go along with it for now. The man holding open the door looked to be in his early fifties, his weathered face and keen blue eyes suggesting a sharp intelligence.

  “Hey there, boss.”

  “Whit.” Eli turned to her. “Gwen, this is Whitman Porter. He’s been with the Broken Arrow for as long as I can remember.”

  Whit tipped his head. “Ma’am.” He led them into the living room, a large open space where half a dozen men sat around the room, sprawled on couches and recliners. The seating was oriented in two areas, each dominated by large flat-screen televisions. Jed walked in carrying a steaming mug. “Hey there, Gwen.” He took a seat on a long leather couch in front of one of the TVs where the laugh track from a sitcom sounded.

  “Woo-hoo, got you, you son of a bitch.”