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

by Jean Brashear

  Quinn frowned. “She was alone on the highway?”

  Josh nodded, “Hitchhiking, soaking wet and desperate.” He grimaced, thinking of what could have happened to her. “She took off with only the clothes on her back and very little money, I suspect.”

  “You called in the police?”

  “I was going to, but she freaked.”

  Quinn frowned.

  Josh nodded. “Clearly I need to know more.” He shot his brother a troubled look. “In some ways, her behavior reminds me of Lorie after the attack, terrified of being touched.”

  Quinn lifted an eyebrow. “She did fine just now. Obviously, you’ve helped her out of that.”

  “Just barely. She makes me think of that filly we had, remember?”

  Quinn nodded. “But you gentled her and taught her to trust. Seems to me you’ve done that here, too.”

  Josh’s fists clenched. “And if I can find that bastard, I’m going to make sure he’s sorry for what he’s done.”

  “All this for a woman you just met?”

  “Worse yet, she’s still married to him.” Josh lifted his gaze to his brother’s, knowing that Quinn, of all people, would understand how little he himself comprehended about what was happening. “But there’s…something…” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know what it is, Quinn, but I just can’t let her go yet.” He exhaled. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve got to report back to the set in three weeks. I want to make things right for her before I do.”

  “She’s not your usual starlet.”

  “You think I don’t know that? I have no idea what the devil I’m doing. L.A. would eat her alive, I know next to nothing about her, she’s not my type—and I want her so badly I can’t think straight.” He ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “I keep thinking about that stupid fortune-teller—”

  “Fortune-teller?”

  “Forget it.” He’d had no intention of mentioning her, but no matter how old he got, he could never seem to keep from spilling his guts to Quinn. “It’s all bunk.”

  “You so sure?”

  “Look, that stuff is fine for you and Tía, but…you know it’s not anything I…” He shook his head. “No way.”

  “Tell me.” Quinn placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

  “It’s ridiculous.” But he knew Quinn wouldn’t drop the subject until he came clean. “All right. Babette had this fortune-teller at a party—”

  “Babette? You’ve actually been with a woman named Babette?” Quinn grinned. “Have you no shame?”

  “Oh, hell, you know L.A. Her real name is probably Gertrude.”

  The brothers laughed. Quinn hadn’t spent much time away from the ranch since he and Lorie married, but Josh had told him plenty of stories about his life in Hollywood.

  Josh felt his tension easing. Just being with Quinn, being back home, helped him relax and remember that L.A. was not real life.

  “So what did this fortune-teller say?”

  “Oh, it was just a bunch of bull. Forget it.”

  “Was it about Elena?”

  “No. I hadn’t even met her then.” The old woman’s prediction had nothing to do with them. Thinking otherwise would be absurd.

  But he might as well relent. Quinn’s patience would outlast his own. “Look, I didn’t want to have anything to do with that old woman, but she sought me out. It was eerie, I’m telling you.” He gazed into the distance again. “She told me that I had sacrificed my life for love in another time, that my soulmate was alive once more and needed me. It was almost like having Tía—” He halted. Shook his head. “You know I don’t believe in that stuff.”

  Quinn smiled. “I didn’t, either, if you’ll recall.”

  “But—” Josh didn’t mind other people believing in woo-woo, but it was not for him.

  “Never mind.” Quinn slapped his back affectionately and finally let him off the hook. “Let’s get these toys inside before the kids explode.”

  Eagerly Josh grabbed his load, happy to leave this discussion behind them. He cast a glance at his brother, then shook his head.

  Who was he kidding? Quinn wouldn’t dismiss the subject so easily.

  His own scalp prickled, and he rejected it.

  Just an old woman’s con job. Not for this boy. Uh-uh. No way.

  “Where shall I put Elena’s things, Mom?” Grant asked, his arms full of shopping bags.

  “Here,” Elena said. “I only have a purse and one bag, but let me help you with the rest.”

  Grant looked confused. “But Uncle Josh said all these are yours.”

  “They are,” Josh said as he entered.

  She turned and saw a sheepish smile. His eyes pleaded with her not to argue in front of the others.

  “Take them out to the east bedroom in the new wing, Grant,” Lorie responded. “We’ve finished the add-on to the cabin, Josh. Our two guest bedrooms are in the new wing. I hope that’s all right.”

  Josh grinned. “Calling this place a cabin was never a very good description, even before you and Quinn started re-populating West Texas.”

  Lorie smacked him lightly on the arm.

  “You know it’s true.” His smile was unrepentant. He started to take a step forward, but couldn’t move for the children crowded around him.

  He looked down in mock surprise. “So what’s with the crowd?”

  “We’re waiting for toys!” Emilio cried out.

  “Toys? Seriously?” His eyes danced. “Oh, yeah…I forgot. Let’s see here…” He settled on the floor and distributed gifts, children gamboling like puppies around him. Elena had to remind herself that this was one of the most famous men in the country. At the moment, the Sexiest Man Alive was as entranced as the children, exploring the toys and playing with abandon.

  Lorie spoke up beside her. “He’s always been a big kid himself. He used to play with Grant for hours. He was Grant’s favorite playmate, until Quinn came along.”

  “You’ve known him a long time?”

  Lorie nodded. “It seems like forever. Did he tell you he and I worked together?”

  “He told me you starred together in New York when—” Elena stopped abruptly.

  “It’s okay. I can talk about it now. At the time…” Lorie’s voice trailed off. She straightened her shoulders. “When my first husband was killed by that evil man, I don’t know how I would have survived without Josh. He was a combination big brother and father to Grant at a time when I was trying desperately to pull my life back together.”

  Here was all the evidence she needed that Josh was not for her. One of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen had been involved with him. She could only imagine the legions of others.

  Lorie’s gaze fastened on her. “He’s a very special man.”

  Despair suffused her. “I hear you. I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t—” The lump in her throat silenced her.

  “Elena,” Lorie hugged her gently. “If you need someone to talk to…”

  She desperately did, but she didn’t know where to begin, and anyway, it was all just so hopeless. “I—I’m sorry. If you don’t mind, I’ll just—” She all but ran to follow the path she’d seen Grant take.

  Once in the quiet hallway, Elena leaned against the wall, unable to stem her tears any longer. Oh, how it hurt to be here, to see her dreams alive and completely out of her reach. And what did she do but be ungracious to Lorie, who’d welcomed her, who was only trying to help?

  But she just couldn’t bear it. And she wouldn’t break down in front of them.

  “Elena?” Josh.

  She leaped away from the wall, swiping at her tears, trying to regain her composure.

  “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not. Tell me what’s wrong.” He reached for her.

  She stiffened. Backed away, desperate to resist him and the broken heart she knew was coming as surely as the sunrise. “Please…I—I need some
time alone. To rest,” she added, to make him feel better.

  Josh let his hand hover in the space between them, but finally he let it drop. “Of course you should rest, if that’s what you want.” But his voice took on an edge. “I don’t like leaving you upset.”

  Elena met his gaze before her own slid away.

  Josh waited again, then sighed. “I’m here, sweetheart, whenever you’re ready.”

  Swallowing around the boulder lodged in her throat, Elena only nodded as she made her way to her room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

  Long moments passed before she heard Josh’s footsteps move away.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Well, that was fun. Greg stared out the windshield as he drove to Carmen’s. Nothing like getting reamed out by your boss to put a nice little period on the end of a day.

  He smiled as he drove. If he’d ever doubted that Sheriff Carlson was in bed with Richard Kruger, that doubt was gone now. The man had been sweating bullets even as he was dressing down Greg for bothering the town’s leading citizen.

  Overreact much, Sheriff?

  Greg wondered how long it had taken for Kruger to hear about his visit then to call Carlson.

  But had anyone discussed Greg asking after Kruger’s wife, as well? That was the important question. How had he done on that score?

  Because if she was there, she might be the one to pay for any concern Greg had roused in them.

  He also knew something more after he’d seen Carlson: the sheriff didn’t know Elena Kruger was missing yet.

  If she was, that is. And if she was, why wouldn’t Kruger want everyone looking for her?

  Because…her absence jeopardized Kruger in some way?

  That would mean with Guzman, most likely.

  Was her land the issue? As neglected as it was, that would make it a good candidate for a trafficking operation, no one around to see what went in and out.

  So controlling that land might be the reason she’d been held prisoner as Carmen had insisted. Arizona was a community property state, so whatever belonged to Elena belonged to Kruger, unless it was claimed as separate property coming into the marriage.

  Or if it hadn’t belonged to her when they married. Her father had died only recently. He made a mental note to see if she had other family—or wait, he could simply ask Carmen.

  He didn’t want to. He’d rather keep Carmen squarely in the realm of fun.

  But he wasn’t here to have fun. He was here to gather evidence. Anywhere he could uncover it.

  That included Carmen. Beautiful, sexy Carmen.

  Damn it.

  Head in the game, son.

  Okay. So…unless Elena Kruger’s father had willed the land to someone else, everything he had would come to her, but it would be separate property. That could change over time if community assets were used for the upkeep of it, but otherwise, he thought she would still need to declare it community property for Kruger to be entitled to any share of it or to exercise legal control over it.

  He could force her to sign it over, of course, but if he’d controlled her life to the extent Carmen believed, why bother? What difference would a piece of paper make?

  He stared into space, thinking.

  As part of a paper trail, maybe? To legally transfer it into some other entity that couldn’t be easily traced? The goal would be to obscure the ownership, so as not to jeopardize legitimate business assets. If this operation were busted, Guzman was not American, so his holdings wouldn’t be vulnerable.

  But Kruger’s would.

  Of course, he could simply kill her and inherit it—but murder was a drastic move and definitely not easy to cover up. It was more likely Kruger would have resorted to any number of unpleasant but not lethal ways to force her to sign.

  But all that assumed that Carmen was right that her friend was little more than a prisoner in her marriage, and Carmen might be wrong. Maybe her friend loved Kruger and that was why she refused to do as Carmen suggested and leave him.

  Carmen certainly believed, though, that Elena Kruger was too frightened to take action. And the guards had clearly been uneasy at the mention of her.

  If she had escaped—which Kruger sure wouldn’t want to reveal to Guzman—why now? What had changed?

  Her father. Ding ding ding – give the man a cookie. If Kruger had threatened her father and she loved her father, she might have stayed with Kruger to protect him. But once her father was gone…what would hold her here?

  Nothing.

  Was she smart enough, brave enough, spirited enough to plan an escape? Abused spouses often were not capable of such a move. He’d have to ask Carmen about that, too.

  If, however, she had escaped, Kruger couldn’t get her to sign jack diddly squat. He sure wouldn’t be broadcasting that she was missing—he’d be looking for her everywhere. But quietly. He would want her back under his control.

  Especially if she knew anything at all about his operations.

  Okay. Okay, now. That inner instinct he’d honed for years was chiming certain and true. He needed a better look at the Navarro place, but he’d have to do it without her permission. Too bad he couldn’t find her.

  But maybe, if Carmen was her only friend, she would get in touch?

  Reason enough to stay in touch with the woman who already had his attention.

  He pulled up into Carmen’s driveway and got out. Stepped onto the porch and knocked.

  Started smiling when the door opened—

  Carmen grabbed his shirt front and all but dragged him inside.

  “Well, hello to—mmph!”

  Then she was kissing the living daylights out of him.

  Well, okay, dogies. Greg mentally gave himself a high five. He could totally get behind a woman who wasn’t afraid to reach out and take what she wanted.

  Then she grabbed his belt buckle, “Hey there,” she broke away long enough to say.

  He tried to make his mouth form words, but he was pretty sure he was only doing a full-bore fish gasping thing. “Unh—”

  Then he grabbed her hair in one hand and dragged her mouth back to his.

  For a roller-coaster of a day, he had the feeling this one was clacking right up to a new peak.

  He mentally threw his hands in the air and got ready to ride.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Elena woke to the sound of children’s voices and a deep rumble that sounded like Josh in the hall outside her door. He shushed them, and the voices drifted away.

  Snuggling beneath a quilt in the cool morning air, Elena looked around the room, trying to collect herself. She didn’t remember removing her clothes, but she was now clad in a soft flannel gown. She remembered nothing beyond curling up on the bed after closing the door on Josh.

  Nothing except crying herself to sleep.

  This morning, however, she felt restored. She must have slept very deeply to not remember changing her clothes.

  She didn’t want to consider who else might have changed them.

  This room, like the living room, had walls of honey gold logs. Buttery sunshine flowed through the window to her left; through the curtains, she could see the reddish glow of the canyon walls, just past the feathery mesquite tree outside her window. Faint sounds of laughter rippled in the air.

  She wished she could stay right here, forever.

  Maybe she couldn’t have this life. Maybe she would never have a family of her own. But, like a child pressing its nose to the window of a candy store, she longed to be at least this close to her dream.

  It would almost be enough to be near them.

  But it was only a dream for her. She had to start figuring out her next step: what to do when Josh left. The very thought already hurt. How much worse would it feel when he was finally, completely, gone?

  Her mind shied away from the devastation that loomed, but she refused to give in. She was a survivor, wasn’t she? Hadn’t she proven that by surviving years of hell with Richard Kruger?

  Sh
e would survive this, too.

  Soon she would call Carmen to check in, though part of her longed to simply leave that life behind and start a new one.

  But Richard should be stopped, and no one in Mesa Roja could do it.

  Nor could she, not yet.

  Her father had made her promise to leave and never return. She’d seized her first chance to escape. Her land, her heritage was back there, though. As were people who would be harmed by Richard.

  Seeing this family, their sense of heritage, their strong bonds, Elena longed for her own roots. She owned land that had been in her family for many years. Despite the promise she’d made to her father, how could she simply let years of her ancestors’ struggle wither and die, as it would if she did not return and claim it?

  But she would have to battle Richard for the land, she knew, and the deck was stacked against her. The mere thought of seeing him again terrified her. Plus, knowing fragments of his intent…he had to be stopped.

  I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’ll take care of it.

  She could never let Josh face him. No matter what assets he brought to the fight, his goodness would be a liability. Richard had no morals, no compunction to stop him from doing anything he deemed necessary.

  However lovely this respite, she finally acknowledged to herself that she would inevitably have to run from Josh, too, in order to protect him.

  Too agitated to lie in the lovely bed any longer, Elena rose and paced the room. At the window she sucked in a deep breath of the crisp, cool air and forced herself to calm.

  The morning felt fresh and new.

  She would have to go, yes, but not yet. She could drink in this magic for a little while longer.

  The sound of laughter coming from another part of the house drew her like a magnet. She glanced around for the clothes she’d had on last night.

  Her gaze landed on the many bundles Grant had brought inside. She knew she should make Josh take them back. Buying them showed blatant disregard for their bargain.