Dead Giveaway

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Dead Giveaway Page 11

by Diane Benefiel


  “There is. Things have changed. But first, we need to clear the air over what was between us before.”

  “There was nothing between us. You passed judgment and made it pretty obvious I didn’t come up to your standards. I wasn’t the type of person you wanted your sister hanging around with.” She shrugged. “I reacted to that.”

  “I may have jumped to conclusions, at least initially, and that’s on me. But you could have set me straight.”

  “I didn’t see the point.”

  “I was worried about my sister, damn it. I thought she was spinning out of control, and felt the last thing she needed was another irresponsible party girl encouraging her to walk on the wild side.”

  Gwen gripped the back of a chair, fatigue starting to sap her strength. “I was worried about Chloe, too. She was the first person who was a true friend to me, and despite all her craziness, she remained a good friend. So when she wanted to party, I went along. And when she started getting into things better left alone, I always stayed sober. I didn’t drink and I didn’t do drugs, and I always made sure she got home safely.” She frowned, focusing on the man standing in front of her. “But that’s done, Eli. She may have relied on me, but I relied on her as well. And you saw what you wanted to see in me. I admit I resented you for it.”

  “And yet you still showed up on my doorstep when you were in danger. Why is that?”

  She gave a short laugh that sounded tired even to her own ears, then pushed back a lock of hair that had come loose from the ponytail. “You may have judged me wrongly, but my impressions of you have held true. You’re critical and stubborn, but you care about your family. I wasn’t sure you’d let me in the door, but I knew you’d never turn your nephew away.”

  “Even without him, I would have let you in.” His voice held something, some hint of emotion she couldn’t define.

  “Good to know.” She tightened her grip on the chair, swaying slightly. “I think I’ll go back upstairs. Thank you for telling me about those men.”

  She moved to the stairs, pausing at the base to look up. They seemed particularly steep today. She put one foot on the bottom tread, pausing when Eli came up behind her. He scooped her up in his arms.

  “Eli, put me down.”

  “You looked like you were contemplating climbing Mt. Whitney.”

  “I’m fine.”

  He paused on the step, looking down at her with an unfathomable expression. “I’m going to start counting how many times you say you’re fine. Put your arm around my neck and hold on.”

  She must be sicker than she thought if holding onto Eli sounded wonderful, but she did as directed. With her arm around his neck and her head against his shoulder, Gwen held on.

  “What did you go downstairs for anyway?”

  “I wanted to get out of bed, and I thought I could open a can and heat up some soup. Cameron’s sure-fire treatment for whatever ails is chicken noodle.”

  “Can’t beat it.” His chest rumbled against her cheek as he spoke. He carried her into her room, setting her on the bed with her back against the headboard. He adjusted her pillow and tugged up the covers, and then remained leaning over her, hands planted on the headboard on either side of her. “There’s no help for it, Gwendolyn.”

  “For what?”

  “This.” He dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers. Just a brief touch, but enough to send another jolt of heat sizzling through her body.

  When he pulled his head back, it took her a moment to raise her gaze to meet his. Her heart hitched and she knew the emotions Eli generated weren’t going to stay locked away. She quashed the little bubble of excitement. “Why’d you do that?”

  “It’s called attraction, Gwen, and I don’t think it’s only on my side.” He straightened. “I’ll go heat you up some of Cameron’s cure-all.”

  Chapter Twelve

  After two days recuperating from her bout with the flu, Gwen was finally ready to get back to work. She rose before dawn, made a pot of coffee, and took a steaming mug with her as she walked to the barn in the chilly morning air, Bubba following at her heels.

  The barn was lit. Ben or one of the hands was already at work. She entered the wide doors, going immediately to the feed room to check the schedule. Hanging her coat on a hook, she crossed to the stacked bales to load hay onto the wheelbarrow and begin the morning rounds. Physical labor might help to keep her mind focused on something other than Eli’s kiss.

  If a week ago someone had told her that Eli MacElvoy would kiss her and admit to an attraction, she would have laughed hysterically. Now she didn’t know what to think. She’d spent a good part of yesterday reliving that brief meeting of lips until she’d had to order herself to get a grip. Maybe Eli was being honest and did feel attracted, but she wasn’t going to attach any greater meaning to their relationship, such as it was.

  Doubling down on work to distract herself, she tended to the horses. Ranch hands came in and out of the barn, and a wavering tenor voice echoed from the workshop, singing of love for a dog named Boo.

  Gwen gave Queenie her two flakes of hay, moved on to the next stall, and then on down the line until she came to Xander. He peered out of his stall, tossing his head when she raised a hand to stroke his cheek.

  “Is that the way it is?” When he looked down his nose at her, Gwen ignored him, filling his hay rack but not giving him any attention. When she would have left without even giving him a pat, the big stallion bumped her with his head.

  “Oh, I see. You think I have something for you.” Again, she raised her hand to stroke him. Xander stood motionless, then bent his head to allow her to pet him. She rubbed between his ears and along his neck, then finally pulled carrot pieces from her pocket. “Is this what you want?” Gwen held out the treats, which he used his lips to gingerly pick off her palm. “Just remember who loves you, big guy.”

  She made the rounds again with the grain mixture. Once the horses were fed she returned to the front of the barn and retrieved her insulated coffee mug from where she’d stashed it, taking it into the tack room. Opening a can of saddle soap, she went to work on a saddle, daubing her soft cloth in the soap and working it into the leather.

  By the time she’d finished with the saddle, the tenor had switched to singing about Mr. Bojangles. Wiping her hands on a clean cloth, Gwen peeked through the workshop door and found Whit sitting on a stool in front of a contraption where he appeared to be winding string from a bobbin onto a wire. He broke off his melody when he spied her.

  “Hey there, Gwen. Glad to see you’re up and around.” He stopped winding and used a small tool to cut the thread.

  “What are you doing?”

  “This here’s a rig for tying flies.”

  “You fly fish?” She’d always thought fly fishing looked like poetry in motion. She moved closer to peer at the fly with its shiny metal threads.

  “Sure do. You ever tried it?”

  Gwen shook her head. “I’ve done conventional fishing, but not fly fishing.”

  “Well, girl, we’ll have to pick a morning and go fishing. You can bring that boy, too. He could likely use something to occupy his mind. Poor kid, losing his mother in the worst possible way.”

  Gwen gazed at Whit. “Actually, coming here has been the best thing for him. There’s so much to do, and with a couple of kids to share the days with, I think he’s coping as well as can be expected.”

  Whit nodded as he continued to work on the fly. Gwen watched him for several minutes before he cocked his head and looked over her shoulder. “Hey there, boss.”

  “Whit.”

  Gwen turned and found Eli standing in the doorway. As usual, he wore faded jeans and a plaid work shirt, his shearling-lined denim coat unbuttoned. He sipped from a steaming mug and regarded her from under the brim of his hat. “Guess you’re feeling better.”

  “Yeah, I’ve already fed the horses.”

  He nodded, gaze narrowing as it traveled over her. “Where’s your radio?”
<
br />   “I didn’t think I’d need it in the barn.”

  “Take it with you every time you leave the house, Gwendolyn.” She gave a brief nod, and he continued. “You up for a ride?”

  Surprised, she answered, “Maybe later? I can’t leave Cameron asleep not knowing where I’ve gone.”

  “I can look after him.”

  Gwen turned back to Whit. “I can’t pull you from your work, Whit. But thank you.”

  “Got the morning off so it’s no problem.”

  Eli spoke, “Will Cameron be okay if he wakes up and Whit’s there? We won’t be gone more than an hour or so.”

  Gwen nodded slowly, then couldn’t help smiling. “Thanks, Whit. I owe you.” Excitement thrumming, she followed Eli out of the workshop. She missed riding. Simply being around the horses made her happy, but riding was something else. There was that connection, the communication between horse and rider that was so elemental.

  Eli stopped in front of Queenie’s stall and handed Gwen a lead rope. He tipped back his Stetson. “Take her to the hitching post out front.”

  Gwen opened the stall door and snapped the lead onto Queenie’s halter to bring her out into the bright sunshine of early morning. The temperature was chilly, probably in the low fifties. Eli came out of the barn with bridles hanging from his shoulder and pulling the lead of a bay gelding named Beau. He handed her a radio and a bridle.

  “Here’s a spare radio.”

  She clipped it to her waistband as Eli tied Beau next to Queenie. She lay the bridle across the hitching post, then followed Eli when he walked back into the barn. In the tack room, he pulled a saddle off a rack and would have walked past her, but Gwen reached out to take it from him.

  “It’s heavy, I’ll carry it out for you.”

  Gwen shook her head. “I’ll take it. I’m not weak, Eli. Or incompetent.”

  “I don’t think you’re weak or incompetent. You’ve been sick for two days.”

  “Right. And handing me the bridle earlier wasn’t a test to see if I’d bridle Queenie before I saddled her?”

  He gave a slight grin. “Okay, maybe. But can you blame me? I don’t know your knowledge level. I’d do the same for any new hire.”

  He was right. She shouldn’t expect him to give her a free hand when she hadn’t proven herself. “All right, so I’m on probation. But if I’m going to prove I can work around horses you can’t treat me like I can’t do the job.” Gwen gripped the saddle. He held tight for a moment, expression reluctant, until finally releasing it.

  “Gwendolyn.”

  She stopped, resting the weight of the saddle against her knee.

  “You’re not one of my hired hands. Our relationship is on a completely different level.”

  She held his gaze for a moment, then shook her head and walked away.

  A light breeze picked up as Gwen pulled the cinch tight and finished saddling Queenie. She picked up the bridle and eased the bit between the mare’s teeth, then pulled the straps around her ears, all while Eli’s words echoed in her head. He’d somehow made their relationship sound more personal than she was comfortable with. Which added to her confusion ever since he’d kissed her.

  Eli came out of the barn. He placed a blanket on Beau’s back and then the saddle. The man moved with an easy grace she found impossible not to watch. His lean, rangy build could be deceptive, unless you noticed the strength in the wide shoulders and the strong back. He turned and she hastily averted his eyes.

  With a wave goodbye to Whit who was crossing the yard toward the house, Gwen swung herself into the saddle. Once Eli was astride Beau, she gave Queenie a gentle tap on the ribs and followed him. They skirted the ranch buildings and rode along a dirt road that bordered wide pastures. At the edge of the field a small stream wound its course through the grass dotted by spring wild flowers. Cattle clustered behind barbed wire fencing, watching the passing riders with velvety brown eyes.

  Neither of them spoke as they continued along the road, climbing steadily. The hills rolled gently at first, then rose more steeply to fold into the foothills of the Sierras on the western edge of the valley. Eli took a trail branching off from the road to follow the creek tumbling down from the mountain, the water rushing over boulders before deepening to form dark pools. Queenie plodded steadily, ears twitching, and Gwen thought the horse was enjoying the outing as much as Gwen was.

  Riding in the quiet morning gave her time to think. She mulled over the plan she’d brought up to Eli once before. Not one she liked, but had to consider. Staying with him had given her a breather, a chance to regroup following the fearful flight from Southern California. And thank goodness she’d been here when she’d gotten sick. But she was better now, and worry about Cameron’s safety was never far from her mind. She couldn’t let go of the belief that the two men who’d come to the ranch looking for work had been sent by Justin to scout out the situation. If that was the case, Justin knew they were here.

  They rode beside the creek, the breeze lifting her hair, and she wished she’d remembered to grab her jacket before starting out. Gloves would have been nice, too. Pulling the zipper of her hoodie snug under her chin, she pulled on the reins when Eli stopped beside a wood and concrete structure. Water channeled from the creek tumbled over the spillway, and Gwen realized this was the source of the smaller streams that fed the meadows. Eli swung down and left Beau ground tied as he crouched next to the spillway to examine the metal wheel that adjusted the diverter.

  Gwen dismounted to join him, hands buried in her pockets for warmth. He glanced at her and straightened, then pulled off his coat. He held it out to her. “Here, put this on. You’re cold.”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Gwendolyn, put it on.”

  She shook her head, backing away. “I can deal with being a little chilly, Eli.”

  He scowled but put his coat back on. “The diverter is good. We can go back.”

  “Before we do, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

  His eyes flashed heat, and she knew he was thinking about the kiss. “About you and me?”

  “No, not you and me.” She wished he didn’t have the power to make her tingle all over with only a look. “About those men. They must have been sent by Justin. He knows Cameron and I are here.”

  “He does.”

  “Have you found out anything more about them?”

  “Nothing solid, but I’ve come to the same conclusion as you have. Justin is looking for you and figured out you came here.”

  “Then the solution is obvious. My car is fixed, so I’ll leave and draw them away from Cameron. I’ll go to a big city, maybe Sacramento.”

  “No.”

  “Listen, this will work. I’ll use my ATM card to get cash. If Justin is monitoring my account, and I bet he is, he’ll send his goons after me, or come himself. That leads him away from the Broken Arrow.”

  “No.”

  “Think about it. If I keep moving, he can’t catch me, and Cameron stays safe.”

  “No.”

  “You can’t just say ‘no.’”

  “Hell, no.” Jacket held open by hands on his hips, Stetson pulled low over his eyes, he looked about as movable as a mountain.

  “Now you’re being rude.”

  “Don’t care. The answer is still no.”

  Irritation sharpened her tone. “I’m not asking permission, Eli, simply letting you know. Besides, my plan makes sense. Cameron is safer, and, added benefit, I replenish my cash supply.”

  “No.”

  She rolled her eyes. “We can’t discuss this if you keep saying ‘no.’ And besides, you’re not the boss of me.”

  He moved toward her, crowding her, looming close enough for her to see sparks of steel in his gray eyes. “There is nothing to discuss, Gwendolyn. No argument, nothing. You’re staying on the Broken Arrow. If I need to, I’ll disable your car. You’re not leaving.”

  Irritation ratcheted up to anger. “I’ll do what I have to, and you won�
��t stop me. You sent the video to the FBI field office in Sacramento, goodness knows they’ve had enough time to view it, so I can check in with them when I’m there, maybe get them to do something since lives are in danger.”

  “You’re not leaving. What do you think it would do to Cameron if you took off? He’s already lost Chloe. Do you think he’d ever recover if something happened to you?”

  “Nothing is going to happen to me.” She pushed against his chest to get a little distance. Beneath the flannel, solid muscle didn’t budge an inch.

  He grabbed her hand, then swore beneath his breath. “Damn it, your hand is freezing.” He grabbed her other hand, wrapping both in his and bringing them to his mouth.

  She stilled as he blew warm breath across her fingers.

  “Jeez, Eli. You don’t fight fair.”

  “We’re on the same side in this, Gwen. I’m done fighting you.”

  A shiver of want wound through her at his husky tone. “Good. That’s good. I go, do what I can to lead Justin after me. We don’t fight about it.”

  “That wasn’t the kind of fighting I meant.” He tugged and her heartbeat kicked up as he drew her closer.

  “I can’t figure you out, Elijah. First, you’re all bossy, then –”

  “Gwendolyn, shut up.” He lowered his head, the brim of his hat brushing against her forehead as he captured her lips with his. She stood frozen in shock, sensations slamming through her. His tongue slipped into her mouth, sliding against hers, the rich flavor of the coffee he’d drunk earlier making her crave him like an addiction. The hot kiss broke the freeze and spread a deliciously intoxicating warmth from low in her belly radiating out to the tips of her fingers and toes. He let go of her hands to cup her face, thumbs stroking her cheek bones, long fingers threading into the hair at the back of her neck. God, he felt amazing, and she had to wonder if steam wasn’t rising out of the top her head to billow into the chilly air.

  Her fingers splayed against his chest, the heat of his skin warm through the flannel. The scent of pine and leather combined to add to the intoxicating overload on her brain. Hands firmly gripping his shirt, she leaned into him. Eli broke the kiss to press warm lips along her jaw to the sensitive skin below her ear. She should have known he’d be good at this. She gave a shiver, and when he pulled his head back to look at her with burning eyes, she shook her head and pulled him back. “More.”

 

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