by Rita Herron
And reminded her how much she’d loved Brett.
And how painful it had been when he’d left her years ago.
She couldn’t allow herself to hope that they could rekindle that love. And when Brett discovered Sam was his...
She’d face that when they got her little boy back.
It took half an hour to reach The Wagon Wheel, a bar/restaurant that specialized in barbecue and beer. Pickups, SUVs and a couple of motorcycles filled the parking lot, the wooden wheel lit up against the darkness.
Willow pulled her scarf over her head as they hurried to the door. Country music blared from the inside as they entered. The place was rustic with deer and elk heads, saddles, saddle blankets and other ranch tools on the walls. Wood floors, pine benches and tables, and checkered tablecloths gave it a cozy country feel.
Willow dug her hands in her jacket pockets. “How do we recognize her?”
Brett shrugged, but his phone buzzed with a text. When he looked down, the message said, Back booth on the right.
“That way.” Brett led Willow to the rear of the restaurant where a small Hispanic woman with big dark eyes sat with her hands knotted on the table.
“Mrs. Garcia?”
She nodded, her gaze darting over Willow, then she looked back down at her hands as if wrestling with whether or not to flee.
Willow covered the woman’s hand with her own and they slid into the booth. “I appreciate you meeting us. My name is Willow. Tell me your name.”
“Valeria,” the woman said in a low voice. “I...my husband will be upset that I come.”
Willow squeezed her hand. “I don’t want to cause you trouble, but my son is missing, Valeria, and I need help.”
Valeria gave them both a wary look. “You don’t understand. My husband...he not talk because he scared for me and little Ana Sofia.”
Willow’s heart pounded. “Ana Sofia?”
“Our little girl. She’s eight.” Valeria pulled a photo from her handwoven purse and showed it to them. “She...is so sweet and so tiny. And Gus went to prison so those bad men wouldn’t kill us.”
Willow tensed. “Someone threatened your little girl?”
Valeria nodded and curled her fingers into Willow’s. But she looked directly at Brett, her eyes pleading, “If I talk to you, you take us some place where they can’t hurt us?”
Brett spoke through clenched teeth. “Yes, ma’am. I promise. I’ll pay for protection for you myself.”
* * *
BRETT HAD NO patience for any man who would hurt a woman. “Who threatened you and your daughter, Valeria?”
“If I tell you, they may hurt my Gus.”
“He’s in prison,” Willow said.
Brett understood Mrs. Garcia’s fear, though. If someone wanted to get to Gus, they could.
“No one will know about this conversation,” Brett assured her.
“Just tell us what happened,” Willow said softly.
Valeria pulled her hand from Willow’s and twisted them together in her lap. “Sí. I do this for the little boy, miss. I cannot stand for anyone to hurt children.”
“Neither can I,” Willow said, a look of motherly understanding passing between the two women.
“You see, Gus, he work for this rancher named Boyle Gates. Mr. Gates have big spread, but some say he cheat and steal so he be biggest, wealthiest rancher in Wyoming.”
“What exactly did Gus do for Gates?” Brett asked.
“He was ranch hand,” Valeria said. “Gus proud man. He work hard. But one day Mr. Gates accuse him of stealing money from his safe in house. My Gus not do it, but man named Dale Franklin say he saw Gus take it.”
“Dale Franklin? He died, didn’t he?”
“Yes.” Her voice quivered. “Gus think they kill him. He was working with a rustling cattle ring. They tell Gus they do same to him and us if he not help them.”
“What exactly did they want him to do?” Brett asked.
She dabbed at her eyes with a colorful handkerchief. “Steal cattle.” Her lip quivered. “Gus not want to, but they say they fix things with Mr. Gates so he keep job and they pay him, too. He still say no, but then they talk about hurting me and our Ana Sofia, he go along.”
“And when the men were caught, Gus took the fall to protect you.”
She nodded, her eyes blurring with tears. “Gus try to be good in prison so he get out one day. That reason he not talk to you.”
“You said they, but you only mentioned a man named Dale Franklin. Who else was involved?” Willow asked.
Valeria looked nervous again, but Brett assured her once more that he would protect her and her child. “I’ll also do whatever I can to help Gus get paroled. Just give me the men’s names.”
Valerie heaved a big breath. “Jasper Day and Wally Norman.”
“Do they still work for Mr. Gates?” Brett asked.
She shrugged. “I think Mr. Norman, he wind up in prison, too. Not sure he still there.”
“Valeria, whoever is holding Sam believes Leo Howard had that money and stashed it somewhere. Do you or Gus know where he would have hidden it?”
She shook her head no. “Mr. Howard was leader. Gus said he was brains.”
Brains without a conscience.
Brett wished the bastard was still alive so he could beat the hell out of him. Because of him, Willow’s little boy was in danger.
“Valeria, where is your little girl now?”
“At Miss Vera’s. I clean her house.”
“Let us follow you and pick up Ana Sofia. There’s an extra cabin on my family’s ranch where the two of you can stay. You’ll be safe there.”
Willow took Valeria’s hands in hers. “I promise, no one will look for you at Horseshoe Creek.”
Brett’s gut tightened. He should discuss this with Maddox first, but Horseshoe Creek was as much his land as it was his brother’s.
That is, until he sold his share to Maddox. Then he would have no stake in the land. No ties to it himself.
Was that what he wanted?
No, but he’d do it for Sam.
* * *
WILLOW FOLLOWED VALERIA inside the small shack where Valeria lived. Ever since her husband had been incarcerated, the poor woman had been cleaning Ms. Vera’s house, as well as rooms at a motel to put food on the table.
Willow didn’t condone Mr. Garcia’s illegal activities, but if he’d been coerced to help the other men out of fear, she could understand. Just look at the lengths she had gone to in the past couple of days for her own son.
Little Ana Sofia was a tiny dark-haired girl with waist-length black braids and the biggest brown eyes Willow had ever seen. She clung to her mother’s skirt as Valeria explained that they were taking a trip for a few days.
The child’s questioning look only compounded the turmoil raging inside Willow.
How could she ever have married a man who would threaten a family like Leo had?
Had she been that desperate for a father for her baby?
No...she’d been desperate to forget Brett. She’d seen the tabloids of the women throwing themselves at him and had needed comfort. And Leo had stroked her ego—at first.
All part of his ruse to cover up the fact that he was a criminal.
“This is Miss Willow,” Valeria said. “She and Mr. Brett are going to let us stay on their ranch.”
Not her ranch. Brett’s and his brothers’. But Willow didn’t comment. At one time she’d fantasized about marrying Brett and the two of them carving out a home on a piece of the McCullen land.
But that dream had died years ago.
“Hi, Ana, you have beautiful hair.” Willow stroked one of her braids. “And beautiful big eyes.”
“They’re like my daddy’s.” Ana’s lower lip quivered. “But I don’t get to see him anymore.”
Valeria looked stricken, but Willow patted the little girl’s back. “Well, maybe one day soon, you will. And you can tell him all about the horses and cows you see on Mr. Br
ett’s ranch. Would you like that?”
“I like horses,” the little girl said.
Valeria hugged Willow. “Thank you, Miss Willow.”
Willow’s throat closed. “No, Valeria, thank you.”
Because of Valeria’s courage, they might have a lead on how to find the money Willow needed.
* * *
WILLOW HELPED VALERIA and her daughter settle into a cabin near the one where Brett and Willow were staying. The sound of an engine made him step outside the cabin, and he cursed.
Maddox in his police SUV. What was he doing here?
Wind battered the trees and sent a few twigs and limbs down, a light rain adding to the cold dreariness as evening set in.
Brett jammed his hands in his pockets and waited, contemplating an explanation as Maddox parked and strode up to the porch. Rain dripped from his cowboy hat and jacket as he ducked under the roof.
“What’s going on, Brett?”
Brett tensed at his brother’s gruff tone. Maddox had a way of saying things that reeked of disapproval even without using specific words.
“I decided to stay in that cabin over there. And a friend of mine needed a place, so she’s staying here.”
Maddox arched a brow. “A woman? She’s not staying with you?”
Brett swallowed back a biting retort. He’d be damned if he’d admit that Willow was staying with him. “No, she just needs a safe place for her and her little girl for a few days.”
Maddox crossed his arms. “Brett, is this woman one of your conquests?” He lowered his voice. “Is the kid yours?”
Anger slashed through Brett. “You would think the worst of me, wouldn’t you?” He squared his shoulders, making him eye to eye with Maddox. “I wouldn’t do that to a woman. And if the child was mine, I’d take responsibility.”
Animosity bubbled between them, born of years apart—and the years they’d fought as kids.
“I’m sorry,” Maddox said quietly. “I guess I jumped to conclusions.”
Brett released a tense breath. Maddox didn’t apologize often.
“She’s in trouble,” Brett said in a low voice. “Can’t you just trust me for once, Maddox, and let her stay here without asking questions?”
Maddox studied him for another full minute, then gave a clipped nod. “Okay, little brother. Do you want me to have my deputy or one of the ranch hands drive by and check on them tonight?”
Brett shrugged. “Maybe one of the ranch hands. I don’t think the deputy needs to come.” Sweat beaded on his brow. What if the deputy drove around and found Leo’s grave?
“Okay, I’ll tell Ron to swing by.”
“Thanks, Maddox.”
Maddox made a clicking sound with his teeth. “I guess it’s time we both start trusting each other, right?”
“Right.” Brett’s gut knotted with guilt as Maddox strode back to his SUV. Maddox would kick his butt when he learned what Brett had done.
It would also destroy any chance of a reconciliation between him and his brother.
* * *
WILLOW BATTLED TEARS as she listened to Brett’s conversation with Maddox. Brett wouldn’t have abandoned a child.
She should tell him about Sam.
After all, he was putting his relationship with his brother on the line for her. She owed him the truth. But he cut her off before she could speak.
“I’m going to see that rancher tonight. Stay here with Valeria.”
Willow glanced down at her phone, willing it to ring. But the picture of little Sam that the kidnapper had sent stared back.
She wrapped her coat around her. “No, I’m going with you. I want to see his reaction to the picture of my son.”
* * *
SAM PUSHED ASIDE the grilled cheese the man set in front of him. “I want my mommy.”
“Well, your mommy’s not here, kid. Now eat the sandwich.”
Sam picked at the burnt edge, then set the plate on the floor “It’s black. And it gots the crust on it and Mommy cuts the crust off.”
The man’s pudgy face puffed up like a big fat pig’s. Then he picked up the sandwich and shoved it toward Sam’s mouth.
Sam’s stomach growled, but he hated the man, and he wasn’t going to eat the nasty thing so he turned his head away.
The mean man probably put roaches in the sandwiches or spiders or maybe he even spit tobacco in it. He’d seen him spitting that brown stuff in that can.
“Fine, you little brat. Starve.” He hurled the sandwich at the wall. It hit, then fell to the floor, a mangled mess.
Sam fought tears. “When are you gonna take me back?”
The man glared at him, then slammed the door. Sam heard the key turning and threw himself at the door, beating on it. “I wanna go home! Let me go!”
He beat and beat until his fists hurt, and snot bubbled in his nose.
Don’t be a baby, he told himself. Cowboys don’t cry.
He wiped his nose on his sleeve and looked around the dingy room. He needed to find a way out, but those windows were nailed shut.
He hunted for something sharp to use to stab the man with if he came back. A knife or a nail or a pair of scissors. But he couldn’t find anything but a broken plastic comb.
The rope they’d first tied his hands with was on the floor. It wasn’t long enough to make a lasso like the cowboys used.
He wound the rope around his fingers and tried to remember the knots he’d seen in that book he sneaked from the library. It had pictures of roping calves and horseback riding and trick riding.
His mama had another book in the table by her bed, too. She pretended she didn’t like rodeos, but he’d seen her looking at pictures of that famous rodeo star. Only those pictures made her cry.
He laid the rope in his lap and twisted and turned it, then tried again and again. If he could trip that mean man, and tie him up like a calf, he could run and run till he found his mommy again.
Chapter Thirteen
Brett waited until the rancher showed up to guard Valeria and her daughter.
“Is she running from a husband?” Ron asked.
Brett shrugged, not wanting to explain. “Something like that.”
“I’ll make sure no one bothers her tonight.”
“Thanks.” Brett shook the man’s hand. One thing he could always count on was that Maddox hired good men.
He met Willow at the truck. His phone buzzed again as he drove toward Gates’s ranch. Kitty. He ignored the call.
Why couldn’t she take the hint? A second later, his phone rang again.
“Aren’t you going to answer that, Brett?”
“No, it’s no one important.”
Willow’s brows lifted. “It’s your girlfriend, isn’t it?”
Brett’s pulse clamored. He didn’t want to discuss the women in his past with Willow. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
Willow released a sardonic laugh. “Oh, that’s right. You have a different woman in every city.”
He hated that she was right. “Where did you get that idea?”
“Pictures of you and your lovers are plastered all over the rodeo magazines. How could I not know? Let’s see. There was Bethany in Laredo, Aurora in Austin, then Carly in Houston, Pauline in El Paso—”
Brett held up a hand. “Okay, so I’ve dated a few women. You got married.” And had a child with another man. And within a year after his last visit home. A visit that had made him think they might have a future.
But she’d squashed that with her wedding.
“You’re right. I guess we both moved on.”
Had they? Or had he just been biding time, hoping one day to reconcile with Willow?
The rain fell harder, slashing the windshield and roof, forcing him to drive slower through the rocky terrain.
“By the way, congratulations on all your success, Brett.” Willow looked out the window as she spoke. “You followed your dreams and became exactly what you always wanted to be.”
Brett gripped t
he steering wheel as he sped around a curve and headed down the long road toward Gates’s spread, the Circle T. Willow’s words taunted him.
He had achieved success on the circuit. And he didn’t have to go without a woman. There were plenty of groupies out there. But they wanted the same thing—the fame, the money, the cameras...
All carbon copies. Shallow.
None of them wanted the real Brett or cared to know about his family. Or that sometimes he regretted leaving Pistol Whip and the chasm between him and his brothers. That when his mother died, he’d fallen apart and missed her so much that he’d cried himself to sleep every night.
That he wanted to be as perfect as Maddox, but he hadn’t been, so he’d joked his way through life. That the only thing he’d been good at was riding.
He’d certainly screwed up with Willow.
Willow gestured toward the turnoff for the ranch. “There’s the sign for the Circle T.”
He’d read about Gates’s operation. He owned thousands of acres, raised crops and had made a name for himself in the cattle business.
At one time, Brett’s father had wanted to make Horseshoe Creek just as big. He’d wanted him and Ray to help Maddox—with the three of them working together, it might have been possible.
But Brett had needed to stretch his wings. And Ray...he’d had too much anger in him. He couldn’t get along with Joe or Maddox.
Willow grew more tense as they approached the house, and kept running her finger over the photo of Sam that the kidnapper had texted.
Brett put thoughts of Horseshoe Creek and his own problems behind. He could live with Maddox hating him when this was over.
As long as he put Sam back in Willow’s arms.
* * *
EVEN THOUGH IT was dark and raining, Willow could see that the Circle T spanned for miles and miles. She’d heard about the big operation and that Gates was a formidable man.
Had he earned his money and success by being involved with crooks like Leo?
She tugged her jacket hood over her head, ducking against the wind and rain as she and Brett made their way to the front door. A chunky woman in a maid’s uniform answered the door and escorted them to a huge paneled office with a large cherry desk, and corner bar. Dozens of awards for Gates’s quality beef cattle adorned the wall.