by Julie Miller
He dialed Bull. “You got a quick way to get a few more phone records?”
“Could be.”
“Why don’t we see if anyone from the ranch has been making calls to one of Calderón’s businesses? Check everyone. I don’t think our man is one of the new hires.”
A moment of silence on the other end, then, “I’ll take care of it.”
There. They could work together in peace.
He drove back and stopped in at the main house to tell Justice and Wyatt what he had so far. Pitifully little. Then he headed over to the cabin in the settling dusk and knocked on Dakota’s door.
She was cleaning up the kitchen while Cody watched some cartoon, half-asleep on the couch. Cody, who’d accepted him from the first moment, had taken him at face value. Cody, who trusted him with childish innocence. Which scared the hell out of Morgan.
Who was he kidding? He didn’t belong here. He belonged on some secret mission, alone. That was where his expertise lay.
“I don’t suppose you have a cup of coffee handy?” He planned on staying up all night and staking out the buildings in case Calderón’s men tried to hit again.
She raised a slim eyebrow as she reached for the pot. “You could have gotten coffee from Miguel.”
He took off his hat and sat at her kitchen table, feeling right there and more at home than he ever had over at the big house. There was something about her that filled the place and made it nice to be in it. “I like the company better here.”
He wanted to at least spend some time with her before he left.
“Flattery might get you coffee, but it won’t get you anything more,” she warned.
He wanted to pull her onto his lap and kiss her so badly he ached with the need. But Cody was still semi-conscious, and Morgan was covered in dirt from the day.
“Maybe not today.” He shot her his cockiest smile. “But I’m a patient man.” He played along.
She laughed as she set a mug in front of him. “You’re such a liar.”
Okay, fine, he wasn’t patient. Not when it came to wanting to kiss her again.
“Find anything?”
He drank in silence.
“That bad?”
“I’ll have him tomorrow. And you’ll be safe tonight. I promise you that.”
She nodded. Then stood. Cody had finally passed out. She carried the little boy to bed, murmuring something sweet. The sight touched some deep longing inside Morgan’s chest.
He finished his coffee and was standing by the time she came back. She walked over to the door with him so she could lock up behind him. He looked into her eyes. His lips were clean enough, he decided, and leaned in for a kiss.
If he couldn’t get all he wanted, at least he would take what he could get.
* * *
SHE WAS IN LOVE with Morgan McCabe.
Still, in love. Because if she wanted to be honest—and if you couldn’t be honest with yourself in your own bedroom in the middle of the night then when and where could you be—she had to admit that she’d never fallen out of love with him.
How was that possible? Dakota lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, reevaluating everything she knew to be true.
All this time, she’d blamed Morgan for being too withdrawn, blamed him for the breakup of their relationship years ago. But she’d been the one to make that decision.
Had she really chosen Billy because he was more romantic, or because he was safer? Morgan demanded all of her. She could lose herself in Morgan. Which had scared her back then, and still scared her now. With Billy, everything had been more manageable.
Had she told Morgan about Billy back then to make him jealous? So he would declare himself? Instead, he’d taken off.
She’d been so young and stupid.
But what now, that she was marginally smarter?
For starters, she wasn’t going to push him away again.
He had his job. He had other things going on in his life. But he cared for her. He wanted her. If there was a chance that he could love her again...
She was a single mom. Ever since Cody had been born, she had always played everything safe. She could do that again. But would she be doing Cody a favor? Would she be doing herself a favor?
She wouldn’t, she decided.
Morgan McCabe was worth some risk.
* * *
MORGAN WAS AT THE FARTHEST of the outbuildings, the one that housed farm machinery, catching up with the last of the older ranch hands when Bull called. He’d driven into San Antonio that morning to pick up the phone records in person. They wouldn’t send it in email. Needed his signature and police ID.
Morgan stifled a yawn. He’d patrolled the grounds all night, but not as much as a stray coyote had stirred.
“I got three guys with frequent calls to Mexico, but Wyatt says they all have girlfriends on the other side.”
“We’ll check them, anyway.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“You know what’s weird? I talked to every one of the men now, and I got no vibes that one of them was a hard core, professional killer.” Morgan thought that over. “Maybe I’m looking for the wrong thing.”
“How so?”
“Don’t know yet. But I’ll figure it out.”
He glanced toward the buildings that made up the heart of the ranch.
“You think...” Bull was saying, but Morgan barely heard his brother. A plume of smoke rose from the old cabin’s roof, snaking to the sky.
He took off running as he yelled into the phone. “Get home now! We got a fire!”
* * *
DAKOTA WAS SHOWING Justice the spreadsheets in the living room at the big house. Wyatt had gone off to administer the sick horse his medicine. Cody took a cold soft drink and some hunting magazines up to Julio, who’d been complaining about being stuck upstairs.
“Everything looks good,” Justice said. “I appreciate all the hard work you do around here.”
“And we appreciate that you’ve given us a home.”
“Even as messed up as it is these days?”
“Family business is always messy.” She gave him a half smile. “I’ll tidy up these charts, then send them over to you as an email attachment.” She headed toward the stairs to say goodbye to Cody for a few more hours and get him back down to Maria in the kitchen.
She looked through the front window completely by chance, and her blood froze for a second. “Fire!”
The cabin was on fire. But she didn’t run to save her valuables. She was running up, needing to make sure Cody was okay, that he hadn’t somehow gotten outside through the back door and gone home.
Justice was running outside, yelling for Maria in the kitchen to call 911.
She was at the top of the stairs, bursting into Morgan’s old room. “Cody!”
He was there. Standing in front of Julio. Rusty Fisher was up there, too, pointing a gun at the two of them.
Which didn’t make any sense. Then understanding dawned, and her stomach clenched.
“Mom!”
Fear sliced through her. “I’m here, honey.”
“And you’ll stay right there, too,” Rusty said.
Chapter Six
“Now lock that damn door and toss me the key.”
Oh, God. Rusty was the assassin? Her thoughts were a confused jumble, but she did as she was told.
The man pocketed the key and moved to the window. Looked out. He didn’t seem to take pleasure in the view. Had he set the fire to distract everyone from the main house?
From where she stood, all she could see was the smoke. “Why are you doing this? You have a good place here. A good job. A home.”
Keeping calm was the most difficult thing she’d ever done, but she had to do it for Cody’s sake. She didn’t want to scare her son more than he already was. He stared at her wide-eyed, fear scrunching up his little face, but he wasn’t crying. Yet.
She hoped it would stay that way. Who knew what would set Rusty off. He clearly
wasn’t the man they’d all thought him to be.
He glanced between them, shifting on his feet, obviously agitated.
Not good. Then again, he hadn’t shot anyone yet.
She had to think of something to save them.
Everyone would come for the fire, she thought. The great distraction. But sooner or later someone would notice that she and Cody were missing. Morgan, if nobody else. The only question was how far away was he, and how long would it take him to get back here? Had he gone back to the pasture?
“You two shouldn’t have come up,” Rusty said. “Should’ve stayed downstairs with Justice.”
“It’s not too late. Nobody is hurt yet. Nothing bad has to happen today.”
“I didn’t mean for nothin’ to happen to the kid.”
“I believe you, Rusty. Listen, you’re a better man than this.”
The man gave a sour laugh. “Some of us are born to be bad and there ain’t nothin’ we can do to climb out of it. I tried. Damned if I didn’t.”
“Whatever Calderón is paying you, I have some money set aside, too. I can ask Justice for more. He’ll give it to me.”
“It ain’t about the money.”
“Then what is it about?”
He shrugged. “Too long a story.”
Good. She needed to keep him talking until Morgan got here. And in case he didn’t, she needed another plan. She eyed the chair in the corner and shifted toward it. “If we are to die, I think we have the right to hear why.”
Rusty glanced out the window again, then back at her. “You know about my brother.”
She nodded. “He died in a shootout with the cops ten years ago. You wear his rattler belt and rodeo belt buckle to remember him by.” Everyone at the ranch knew that much.
“Buddy and I started out a life of crime together. Some cattle rustling, this and that. First time we got caught, we got tossed in jail.” He shook his head. “Scared the spit out of me. Didn’t want to go back, no way. Got a job, stayed out of trouble.”
“But not your brother?”
“He got in with Calderón’s men, running drugs over the border. When the cops shot him, he was bringing in cocaine bricks that got confiscated. Calderón’s men came after me. Figured the debt transferred to the family.”
“They threatened you. Forced you into doing what?”
He shrugged again. “Whatever needed doing now and then.”
“Virgil is a cop. Wyatt is sheriff. They can get you into the witness protection program.”
“It ain’t about me. Got a mother in a nursing home. Got two sisters. Nephews. Nieces.”
“We’ll find a way out of this.”
“I already did. With this last job, my debt to Calderón will be settled. I’ll be done with the man.”
Nobody was done with someone like Calderón until Calderón said he was done, but just as she would have told Rusty that, the man put his finger on the trigger, aiming at Julio.
The sudden escalation of tension spooked Cody and he tore away from Julio to run toward his mother. Directly into the path of the bullet.
“No!” She dove that way, but she was too far.
The door flew open at the same time, Morgan diving for her son, putting himself between Cody and the bullet. Justice was right behind him, throwing himself in the middle.
The shot went off.
Her ears rang so hard she didn’t even hear herself scream again. For a moment she didn’t know who was hit.
Not Morgan, she realized the next second, as Morgan was wrestling with Rusty for the gun. Julio was down, but getting up. He’d probably hit the ground when the weapon discharged.
Cody, half under Justice, scrambled up, too, and ran into her arms. “Thank God.” She checked him over twice. “Are you okay, honey?”
“I was scared, Mom.”
Her throat burned. “You were very brave.”
Morgan subdued Rusty at last and had control of the weapon.
Julio was helping Justice to his feet. The old man held his side, blood seeping through his fingers.
“Justice.” She was next to him the next second. “Lie back down. Let me see it.”
“Don’t make a big fuss over this.” He tried to walk forward, but his knees buckled.
Sirens sounded in the distance.
“You lie down on the bed then.” She pushed him that way. “Help is coming.”
“Hey, who’s the boss here?” But he let her push him on top of the covers, his face turning white.
Only when Justice was horizontal did she look back at Morgan, who had Rusty tied up with an old lasso. Morgan’s arm was bleeding, too. The bullet that had gone through Justice, must have hit him.
Her heart about stopped. “You, too,” she ordered him. “On the bed.”
He quirked an eyebrow and shot her a hot grin.
She swallowed. Fine. “On the chair. Sit down, for heaven’s sake.”
“It’s a flesh wound.” He smirked. “Let’s not get carried away.”
She wanted to throw him into a chair and see how bad the shot really was, make sure he was okay. She wanted to kiss him.
Instead, she turned back to Justice and pushed his shirt aside, prepared for the worst. The bullet had only grazed him, tore his flesh, but nothing else.
“It’s not too bad,” she admitted. “But I still don’t want you getting up.” She picked up Cody and hurried downstairs with him. Someone had to direct the arriving paramedics and cops.
* * *
HE HAD FIVE MINUTES, tops, before the cops would take over.
“Secure the door.” Morgan pointed at Julio who still looked pale.
He did move to the door, though, and closed it as best he could against the busted doorjamb, put his back against it.
Morgan put a knee into the middle of Rusty’s chest as the man lay on the floor, then aimed the gun at the man’s head. He held on to his tenuous control as cold fury coursed through him. The bastard had held Dakota and Cody at gunpoint. “Where’s Brittany?”
He squeezed off a shot so close to the man’s head, it caught a trail of blood through his ear.
Rusty went white. “You don’t know Calderón. He’ll kill me when he catches me. He’ll kill my whole family.”
“I know myself. And I know for sure I will shoot you, here and now if you don’t tell me where my sister is.” He brought his knee up until it pressed against the man’s throat.
“Don’t,” he gasped out the single word. Then, “Okay.”
Morgan eased up on the pressure. “Talk.” He moved the end of the barrel to the middle of the man’s forehead.
“She’s... They took her to the packaging factory.”
“Where is that?”
“I don’t know. Calderón has an alpaca farm. He does his drug packaging there. That’s all I know, I swear.”
It was enough. Morgan eased back a little. He had a map of the territories Calderón controlled. And he had the military satellite pictures. Now that he knew they were looking for an alpaca farm, they should be able to figure out the rest.
Boots slapped up the stairs outside.
“Police! Drop your weapons and put your hands behind your heads.” The first officer up the stairs had his gun aimed at them.
Morgan laid down his gun. “Everything is under control, officer.”
* * *
THAT NIGHT, THEY ALL SLEPT in the main house. Julio moved into Bull’s room with him. Morgan doubled up with Wyatt, sleeping on old blankets on the floor. Dakota and Cody settled into Morgan’s room.
Trying to sleep in Morgan’s bed was surreal in so many ways. Images of the two of them rolled around in her head until she couldn’t take it anymore, and got up to walk to the window while Cody slept peacefully.
Moonlight danced on the charred cabin. Thank God the farmhands were quick to the rescue, and the fire department had gotten there in time. The place would need massive repair, but it was salvageable.
As for her belongings...not so much.<
br />
Her clothes were ruined, her furniture as well. Cody’s baby picture albums burned, too, but at least she had the digital photos backed up online. And, most important, she had Cody, safe and sound, so she wasn’t going to complain about anything else.
She pushed away from the window and looked toward the door. Might as well use the bathroom while she was up. With all the people in the house, who knew how long she’d have to wait in line in the morning.
She opened the door at the same time as Morgan did across the hall. He wore nothing but blue jeans. She wore nothing but one of his T-shirts over her underwear, the shirt’s hem coming to the top of her thighs, leaving her legs bare. They both paused for a moment as they looked at each other, then stepped out and closed the door behind them.
“How is your arm?” she asked in a whisper.
“Not worth mentioning.”
“Justice?”
“Happy on painkillers the last I saw him.”
“And you’re going to Mexico tomorrow?”
“All three of us.” He shook his head. “Not that I need them.”
“Of course not.”
“They’ll be just in the way.”
“Everybody needs backup, Morgan. Everybody needs family.”
He said nothing to that, his gaze holding hers.
“I’ll take care of Justice,” she said after a long moment.
“Much appreciated.”
“He took a bullet for you, you know.” Even as Morgan had jumped in front of Cody to protect her son, Justice had jumped in front of Morgan.
He shook his head. “It’s the strangest thing.”
“He cares for you.”
He just looked at her for a long second. “I’m planning on talking to him before we head out tomorrow.”
“And what happens after you come back with Brittany?”
He glanced at his feet. “Back to work.”
She watched him. “Don’t you want more?”
“I’m not made for more,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “I wouldn’t make a good family man.”
“Says who?”
“I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to be a father.”