The Marshalls Boxed Set (Texas Heroes: The Marshalls Books 1-3)

by Jean Brashear

  Abruptly fighting tears, she glanced away.

  “Could a hero wannabe buy his pretty lady a book?” Josh questioned.

  “Josh…no.”

  “Okay.” Then he took the book from her hand and grabbed several others, then headed for the cash register.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Buying them for me. You can’t complain about that.” His expression was the soul of innocence. “For my education. How can I be a hero if I don’t know how it’s done?” Grinning, he pulled out his wallet.

  Elena shook her head and followed him, a grin of her own sneaking through.

  Chapter Ten

  “Sometimes I forget how big the sky is out in this part of the country,” Josh mused as Elena drove. “There’s a kind of peace to this desolate landscape. It has its own stark beauty.”

  “You miss it?”

  “Yeah, believe it or not, I do.” He gave a soft laugh. “If anyone had told me I would, back when I was in high school, itching to get as far away as possible…” He met her gaze. “Never say never, I guess, huh?”

  She smiled.

  “Did you ever feel that way?”

  She thought for a moment, “No, I was an only child, and I always knew I would take care of the family land. It was my destiny, though my father would have preferred to have a son to inherit.”

  “But he loved you?”

  She sobered. “In his own way, I guess.” She hadn’t been able to tell it until he was near death, however. She looked very much like her faithless mother, and he hadn’t been able to stand the sight of her.

  So she’d mostly raised herself, with the help of Carmen’s parents.

  Then, like an idiot, she’d fallen for Richard Kruger because he’d paid attention to her. Courted her with little gifts and such persistence. She’d been so hungry for affection that she’d been blinded by his pursuit. One of two times her father had stirred himself on her behalf was to ask her if she was sure Richard was the right man.

  No, he was not, Papa. But I was too naive to see it.

  The second time was on his deathbed, when he begged her to leave Richard.

  But by then it was too late to escape.

  She would break down if she thought about her father. Her land. The mess she’d made of her life.

  She changed the subject. “Why did you become an actor?”

  “I sure didn’t spend my childhood wishing for it,” he chuckled. “It was an accident.”

  “How is that?”

  “I was always in trouble. Quinn was constantly bailing me out of one prank or another before my parents could find out,” he recalled.

  “That was nice of him.”

  Josh snorted. “Yeah, nice, except that then he’d take me away from the house and whip my ass for being stupid.”

  She couldn’t help a chuckle at his aggrieved tone.

  “Easy for you to laugh. Quinn was always big. I was a shrimp for a long time.” Josh smiled then. “Not to say I didn’t have it coming.” He started laughing. “I think about those boys of his, and I’m sure he thinks they should have been mine.”

  Elena laughed. “They’re really wild?”

  “Nah, they’re good kids. They’re just…energetic.” Mischief sparkled in his green eyes. “That’s what my mother used to call me. Energetic.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Poor Mom, she never wanted to believe her baby boy could be such a hooligan.”

  Elena smiled at the thought of a young Josh. She’d like to have known him. She suspected she’d have had quite a crush on him. “So how did the acting bug bite you?”

  “My English teacher was at her wits’ end, trying to figure out how to get me to settle down. She decided to make it an assignment for me to play Puck in A Midsummer-Night’s Dream. The rest, as they say, is history.”

  “So you were really good?”

  “Oh, I don’t think anyone would say I was great, but I discovered I liked it a lot. It gave me an outlet for all that energy besides sports. I was good at sports, but I always had to follow in Quinn’s shadow. I realize now that I probably acted up so much, just trying to get attention away from Quinn. Acting is something Quinn would never do. You’d never catch him up on a stage or in front of a camera.”

  “He’s too shy?”

  Josh chuckled. “No, shy is not a word that applies to my big brother. Intense, for sure. Overpowering, maybe. He’s your basic dark and dangerous type, always on top of everything, always in control.”

  She could hear the affection in his voice. “But you don’t resent him.”

  “Not at all. I love him.” Josh’s voice sounded a little choked. “I’d step in front of a bullet for him. He’s had a hell of a rough life. I’m so damn glad that he and Lorie got together. It’s been great for both of them, like they always belonged together.” He stared off into the distance.

  “Soulmates,” Elena observed.

  His head whipped around. “Do you believe there is such a thing?” His eyes bored into her.

  She was silent for a long moment, pondering. Finally, she answered, “I don’t know.” She turned to face him. “But I hope so.”

  Their gazes locked and held.

  Reluctantly, Elena turned to watch the road.

  “Look!” Elena exclaimed, pointing to a sign as they neared White Sands. “A festival in La Luz.” Josh was struck by the glitter of excitement in her eyes. “Is that far?” she asked.

  “No, it’s just up the road from Alamogordo, which is about ten miles past White Sands. Want to go, after we finish at the dunes?”

  “Would you mind?”

  “Nope. Sounds like fun.” Her enthusiasm boosted his own. “See the Visitors’ Center up ahead? We can park there and visit the gift shop first, maybe get something to drink.”

  She nodded, putting on the blinkers.

  Heat still shimmered off the parking lot, though the sunset neared. A strong dry breeze blew, scattering minuscule grains of the gypsum sands which gave the place its name. They took their time viewing the exhibits which explained the formation of White Sands, then moved on to the gift shop.

  “Check it out. Perfect for you, right?” Josh grinned, a tiny red sombrero perched precariously on top of his baseball cap.

  She couldn’t repress her laughter. Josh knew he was making a total geek of himself, but he was ready to do handstands if that’s what it took. This woman so deserved a break from whatever was haunting her.

  She entered into the spirit of the hunt, finding a little straw donkey she thought he should have, then trading it out for a bolo made of petrified wood. She brought it over and placed it around his neck.

  “Goes great with the sombrero.” She giggled, eyes dancing.

  He did her one better, placing a tiny serape placemat over one shoulder. He grabbed a ukulele and began whistling a tune as he strummed out of key, all the while trying to keep the sombrero from sliding. When Elena doubled over with laughter, he didn’t think he’d ever found a performance more rewarding.

  He scraped a bow for her, and she granted him a kiss on the cheek.

  In that moment, the air sizzled around them, as laughter faded and something deeper replaced it.

  “Sir?” the cashier’s voice intruded. “I’m sorry, but the gift shop will close in five minutes.”

  “I’ll be right there,” he told Elena. He swept the sombrero off his head, grabbed the ukulele and the serape, depositing them by the cash register as he showed the clerk the price tag on the bolo. When Elena’s back was turned as she made her way to the door, he scooped up a turquoise bracelet she’d been admiring and placed it on top of the stack.

  He paid for the purchases and caught up with her, slipping one arm around her waist. Before she could say anything, he kissed her, quick and hard.

  She didn’t pull away. “What was that for?”

  “For laughing at me,” he replied.

  “How could I not?” Her smile was broad and unclouded. “You don’t mind?”

&n
bsp; “Not one bit,” he said, leading her around to the passenger side of the car. “I’m an actor—I have no dignity.”

  Her chuckle was all the reward he needed. As he tucked the sack in the back seat, he stuck the bracelet in his pocket. He started to get in, then remembered what he’d forgotten. “Be right back,” he called out as he ran back to the gift shop.

  When he returned with two cardboard boxes and stashed them in the back seat, she raised her eyebrows but didn’t question. Good. She’d find out soon enough that the fun was just beginning.

  Chapter Eleven

  Undercover agent Greg Barron smiled up as the waitress asked, “Table for one?”

  He glanced around. “No, I’m waiting for someone.” Though he wondered if she’d really show. He sure hoped so, though, and not just because she was Elena Navarro Kruger’s longtime friend.

  She was also smokin’ hot. Saucy and curvy and smart, too, he suspected. All things he liked in a woman. And no, he wasn’t here to meet women, but if that turned out to be a side benefit to his investigation into Jorge Guzman, well…he wouldn’t turn it down.

  “Hey, chica,” the hostess said, looking over his shoulder. “Come back to the kitchen. Mama will love that you’re here for lunch.”

  “Sorry, cuz,” said a familiar voice. “I’m with him.”

  He turned and caught her raised eyebrows that seemed to say Didn’t think I’d show, did you?

  He smiled back. Damn, she was gorgeous. “Hi, there.”

  “Hi yourself.” She grabbed two menus and two rolls of napkins and silverware. “I’ll just seat us, Rosie.” She kissed the hostess’s cheek. “Tell Tía I’ll be back to see her before I go, okay?”

  “You got it. I’ll send your waitress right over.”

  Carmen grinned. “Don’t be too quick. Que padre, no?”

  The hostess Rosie laughed. “He is hot at that. I’m Rosie Salinas. This one is my cousin.” She leaned in with a stage whisper. “The black sheep of the family.”

  He grinned. “Greg Blackwell. Somehow I can believe that.”

  “So, fair warning: don’t believe a word she says. And get ready for your heart to be broken. She’s left a trail of them.”

  Carmen rolled her eyes. “Go back to work. Besides, he’s a deputy. I can’t lie to the law.”

  Rosie snorted. “Uh-huh.” Her gaze shifted back to him. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Duly noted.” He followed Carmen to a table and pulled out her chair.

  “Be still my heart,” she said. “A gentleman.”

  “My mama raised me right.”

  “Your accent…Texas?”

  “Born and bred.”

  “Well, we can’t all be perfect.”

  “What do you have against Texans?”

  “Besides massive egos and a refusal to acknowledge that any other state exists, you mean?”

  He chuckled. “It ain’t braggin’ if it’s true.”

  “Spare me.”

  The waitress arrived. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Diet Coke,” Carmen answered.

  What was it with women and counting calories? He liked her curves. “Iced tea.”

  “You know what you want to order?”

  He shook his head.

  “You trust me to order for you?”

  Well, how about this? “Why not?”

  She studied him. “Meat, definitely, probably red. Salsa…hot or nuclear? Hmmm…well, he’s from Texas, so probably he fancies himself a connoisseur of hot sauce, but I lived in New Mexico for awhile, and I know that you Texans can’t take our red sauce.”

  “Hey, now—don’t make assumptions.”

  Her smile was feline. “You just lived up to one.” She turned to the waitress. “Make him Lupita’s special and tell her this one likes smoke coming out of his ears. I’ll take the same, but only two enchiladas, not four.”

  The waitress retrieved his unopened menu and left.

  “Four enchiladas?”

  “Yep, beef. With onions. That’s the real test, you know. Will he kiss me if I eat onions, which I love? Answer is yes, if he has them, too.”

  “I’d kiss you either way.” Damn, but this was a lot more fun than he’d expected. Too bad he was on the job.

  But he was, and he needed answers. Rumor was that Guzman had found a new partner in Kruger, and he would be adding on a new trafficking route soon.

  It would be bad enough if it were only drugs, but Guzman believed in diversification. Besides drugs and weapons, he traded in children and women, too. Greg had memories that would forever stain his soul from some of Guzman’s victims.

  They had to be stopped.

  “What are you thinking about that makes you look so serious?” she asked.

  Careful now. “I was just puzzling over your remark about the sheriff yesterday. You don’t trust him. Why not?”

  “Why would I tell you, if that were the case?”

  “Because you can trust me, and I don’t work for corrupt cops. Is that what you’re implying?”

  She looked at him oddly.

  “Sorry.” He exhaled. “I totally fouled up the mood, didn’t I? But that really got to me, the idea that I took a job I would hate. Because I would, you know.”

  “Would you?”

  “Yeah. Count on it. I’m a good cop. I believe in my work.” He cleared his throat. “So…seen any good movies lately?”

  “What made you come here to Mesa Roja? All the way from Texas?”

  Lying always went down better when there was a seed of truth in it. “The work I was doing before…I had a bellyful.” That wasn’t a lie. He’d lost a good friend to Guzman’s bunch, and he’d come within inches of quitting.

  But he couldn’t let Guzman win. “A buddy of mine died, and I just…” He held up his palms. “Sometimes you feel like you’re making no progress. I decided to take on something simpler.”

  She laughed, but it wasn’t a cheerful laugh. “Then I’m sorry to say you came to the wrong place. Have you encountered Richard Kruger yet?”

  Wow. Luck could be everything sometimes. The task force was indeed interested in Richard Kruger, but the man was proving difficult to investigate.

  “I’ve heard his name,” he hedged. “Owns a big place several miles outside town, right?”

  “Right.” She lowered her voice and leaned forward. “And he owns your sheriff, lock stock and barrel.”

  “Seriously?” The report he’d gotten indicated exactly that. Putting the sheriff behind bars as collateral damage would be a bonus. Greg hated wrong cops. “How do you know?”

  “Everyone knows. Richard Kruger owns all or part of a number of the businesses in town and a good portion of the property. When he says jump, people ask how high.” Her voice sounded bitter.

  “What about you?”

  “He will never own me, but—” She glanced away.

  “But what?”

  “My best friend is married to him.”

  “Whoa.”

  “Whoa is right. He’s made her a virtual prisoner on that ranch, and now—” Her mouth clamped shut.

  “Now what?”

  The waitress brought their drinks. Carmen didn’t answer.

  Once the waitress left, he picked up where they’d left off. “How can anyone become a prisoner these days? All she needs is a cell phone or computer or any number of ways to reach out.”

  Her eyes sparked. “She doesn’t have a phone or a computer, and she has constant guards on her. She leaves the house exactly once a week, on Tuesdays at eleven, to buy groceries. That’s the only time she’s alone.”

  “And that’s who you were looking for yesterday.”

  She tensed.

  “You meet her there, right? Why don’t you help her escape?”

  “You don’t think I’ve tried?” She hissed, then glanced around her. “She won’t leave. I don’t know why.”

  “Maybe she loves him.”

  “Maybe he’s brainwashed her
. She’s turned into this, this…robot.”

  “People change.”

  “I know, but…she’s scared. I’d bet anything he abuses her, though I’ve never been able to see bruises, and she won’t talk about it.”

  “Want me to talk to her? I could go out there, introduce myself.”

  Hope flared. “Would you?” She gnawed her lip. “Because she didn’t show yesterday, and I’m really worried.” Then her eyes went hard. “But you’re working for Carlson. I shouldn’t even be talking to you. He would run straight to Kruger, and it would be Elena who would suffer.”

  “I’m not Sheriff Carlson. Get that through your head.”

  She glanced away. Her eyes filled. “I don’t know what to do. He won’t let me talk to her or come out there. I arrive early and hide out until she gets to the store. Then I can only pass notes or talk fast as our paths cross in the aisle. His men don’t stay inside, but if they knew I was there talking to her…I don’t know what would happen to her.” Anguish darkened her beautiful eyes. “But you’re a stranger, and I shouldn’t be talking to you until I know I can trust you. How can I know that?”

  Tricky ground he was on. He couldn’t tell her who he really was, but he couldn’t turn away from her either, not when she was clearly so worried for her friend. But Elena Kruger was a pawn in a much larger game, and he had to keep his eye on the prize: Guzman and his network.

  “I could tell you I’m trustworthy until the cows come home, but…words are cheap. Actions matter. Tell me how I could ease your mind.”

  The waitress arrived with their meals, and Carmen remained silent until she left.

  Then she looked straight at him. “Look me in the eye and tell me you won’t say a word to the sheriff about what I’ve told you.”

  “I won’t.” An easy promise. “And I have a tailor-made excuse for paying a visit to Kruger to see what I can find out about your friend. I’m new in town and too ignorant to know the sheriff probably reserves the right to all contact with him. I’ll be properly apologetic when I get my hand slapped, but in the meantime, I could get a chance to ease your mind. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission, I always say.”

  “I’m scared to trust you, but—”

  “But you don’t have any other options, right?”