by Diana Palmer
“Yes, I know.” She flushed a little. She’d seen his and loved the breed. “But, actually, I have six of them. That’s Archibald.”
His pale, thick eyebrows rose. “Archibald?”
She flushed a little. “It’s a long story.”
“I can’t wait to hear it.”
Chapter 2
In another pasture, Hayes noted milling cattle, some of which were black-baldies, a cross between Black Angus and Herefords. Most mixed-breed cattle were popular in beef herds. The Raynor place was a ranch.
Along with the ranch, when her stepmother and stepfather died just a few months apart, she inherited two siblings, Julie and Shane. They weren’t actually related to her, but they were hers as surely as if they’d been blood siblings. She loved them dearly.
The children were school-age now. Julie was in kindergarten and Shane was in grammar school. Minette seemed to take that responsibility very seriously. No one ever heard her complain about the kids being a burden. Of course, they also kept her single, Hayes mused. Most men didn’t want a ready-made family to support.
Minette’s great-aunt, Sarah, a tiny little woman with white hair whom Minette always addressed as “Aunt” instead of “Great-Aunt,” was waiting on the front porch. She rushed down the steps as Hayes climbed laboriously out of the SUV.
“Here, Hayes, you lean on me,” she said.
Hayes chuckled. “Sarah, you’re too little to support a man my size. But thanks.”
Minette smiled and hugged her aunt. “He’s right. He needs a little more help than you can give.” She got under Hayes’s arm and put her arm around his back. Her hand twitched when she felt a cavity under his shirt.
“It’s another wound,” he said quietly, feeling her consternation. “I’m pockmarked with them. That one was from a shotgun blast a few years back. I didn’t duck fast enough.”
“You’re a walking advertisement for the perils of law enforcement,” she muttered.
He was trying not to notice how nice it felt to have her close to him. They’d been adversaries for years. He’d blamed her for Bobby’s death. He still blamed her family for that, but she didn’t know who she really was. She had illusions, and he was hesitant to shatter them. After all, she’d given him a home when nobody else offered.
“Thanks,” he said stiffly as they went up the steps and into the roomy, high-ceilinged house.
She paused and looked up at him. She was trying not to let him see the effect his nearness had on her. She’d always adored Hayes Carson, who hated her for reasons that were incomprehensible to her.
“For what?” she stammered.
He searched her black eyes far longer than he meant to. He wondered if she ever questioned the color of those eyes. Her mother had had blue eyes. But he wasn’t going to ask.
“For letting me stay here,” he said.
“You’re welcome.” She hesitated. “I’m afraid all the bedrooms are upstairs...”
“I don’t mind.”
She sighed. “Okay.”
Sarah came bustling in behind them and closed the front door. “I changed the bed in the guest room and turned on the heat,” she told Carson. “It’s not the warmest room in the house, I’m afraid,” she added apologetically.
“Not to worry. I like a cool bedroom.”
“We need to get some fresh clothing for you,” Minette said, appalled by the gunshot wound in the fabric of the shirt he was wearing, and the blood on it.
“I’ll call Zack and have him bring some over,” he said, naming his chief deputy. “He’s been feeding Andy and Rex for me.”
“Okay.”
She helped him into the guest bedroom. It was decorated in shades of blue, brown and beige. The walls were an eggshell-blue, the coverlet was quilted and included browns and blues. The carpet was a soft beige. The curtains matched the coverlet. The windows, two of them, overlooked the pasture where the palomino was grazing.
“This is very nice,” Hayes remarked.
“I’m glad you like it,” Minette said gently. “You should call Zack.”
He nodded. “I’ll do that right now.” He eased onto the coverlet and laid back on the pillow, shivering a little from the exertion and the pain and the weakness that was still making him uncomfortable. “That feels so good.”
Minette hovered. He was pale and he looked terrible. “Can we get you anything?”
He looked at her hopefully. “Coffee?”
She laughed. “They wouldn’t give it to you in the hospital, I gather.”
“They did give me a little hot brown water this morning. They called it coffee,” he scoffed.
“I make very good coffee,” she said. “I have a machine that uses pods, and I get the latte pods from Germany. It’s almost sinfully good.”
He laughed. “Sounds great.”
“I’ll make you a cup before I leave.” She checked her watch and grimaced. “I need to call and let Bill know I’m going to be later than I expected. It’s okay,” she added when Hayes looked guilty, “he can handle the office. We go to press on Tuesdays, but today is hectic, because the weekend is coming up.”
“I see.”
“I won’t be a minute.”
She went back downstairs, with Sarah trailing her. Hayes dug his cell phone out of his pocket and called Zack.
“Hey,” he said. “I escaped.”
Zack chuckled. “Way to go, boss. Are you at home?”
“I wish. Coltrain won’t let me live by myself. I’m staying with...Minette and her family,” he said, almost choking the words out.
“Well!”
Hayes shifted uncomfortably. The stress of riding in the confinement of the seat belt was giving him some problems with his injured chest and shoulder. “I need some fresh clothes. I had to come here in the shirt with the bullet hole.”
“Just tell me what you need. I’ll bring it over.”
Hayes gave him quite a list, including pajamas and robe and slippers. He noticed that his room had not only a television, but a Blu-ray player. “And bring my new movies over,” he added. “I’ll watch them while I’m bedridden.”
“Where are they?”
“On the shelf next to the DVD player.”
“Okay.”
“Who shot me?” he added curtly.
“We’re working on that,” Zack assured him. “We have a shell casing and a cigarette butt. We think it may be tied to those recent arrests we made.”
“The new Mexican drug cartel mules. Their bosses are fighting a turf war across the border in Cotillo. Its mayor owes his soul to Pedro Mendez, who took over the operation that used to belong to the Fuentes brothers bunch,” Hayes added quietly.
“Yes, Mendez is the one his enemies call El Ladrón, the thief,” Zack agreed.
“Mendez has a bitter enemy in El Jefe, Diego Sanchez, who has an even bigger drug cartel. Sanchez wants the Cotillo stronghold for himself. It’s the easiest path to Texas, through mountains where a sidewinder could get lost.” Hayes sighed. “Two of the most evil men on the planet. God knows how many lives they’ve snuffed out.” He didn’t add that his own brother was one of those. He’d never shared what he knew with another living soul. Only Coltrain knew, but he had the information from Hayes’s late father, not Hayes.
“Hey, at least El Jefe takes care of his people, and he draws the line at killing women and children,” Zack reminded him.
“Drugs kill women and children.”
“That’s true, I guess,” Zack said. “I meant, he didn’t carry out vendettas against them. But even Manuel Lopez who used to own the drug trade in these parts never hurt children. God knows, he killed enough grown-ups to make up for it before Micah Steele took him out. Not that I know anything about that. Honest. Cross my heart.”
Hayes just smiled. “It’s an open secret locally, no worries. Maybe El Jefe does have a saving grace or two, but I’d gun him down in a heartbeat if I wasn’t sworn to uphold the law.”
Zack felt the undercurrents
in Hayes’s voice, so he didn’t ask questions. His boss was closemouthed about some things.
“I imagine one of our drug-distribution czars ordered the hit on me. They don’t like local law enforcement interfering with the transport of their product, and they make a public statement with assassinations. But can we prove they tried to kill me?”
Zack chuckled. “The mule who threatened you is in custody in our county detention center. So isn’t it a good thing that we keep surveillance devices there?” he mused. “He made a phone call from the facility. We got it on tape, and traced the number. Sadly, it was a throwaway phone. Or that’s what we think. The number is no longer in service.”
“Damn.”
“Not to worry, I’ve got Yancy on it. He’ll go through every scrap of paper, every cigarette butt, every blade of grass on your property to dig the shooter out. Never saw a guy with such an eye for detail.”
“Me, neither,” Hayes agreed. “He’s good.” Hayes sighed. “I wish we had the bullet. It might give us an even better lead. But Coltrain wouldn’t take it out.”
“I’ve seen lawmen get court orders for bullets to be removed for evidence,” Zack replied.
“So have I, but I don’t know anybody who’s ever forced Coltrain to do anything he didn’t want to do. Besides that, he said it was a greater risk to take it out than leave it in.” He frowned. “Pity they can’t do an invasive scan on me and check out the bullet.”
“There’s a thought.”
Hayes moved and winced, because it hurt. He drew in a long breath. The new antibiotic seemed to be working already. Maybe it was wishful thinking. It still hurt to breathe, but he had to get up and move around, to prevent the development of a bad bronchitis, or even pneumonia.
“Anyway, we’re working on your case, along with the other thirty that are current,” Zack added drily. “Of course, you’re the only shooting victim so far.”
“Good enough. If I could get the county commission to listen to me, I’d give you all raises.”
“We know that, boss. None of us got into law enforcement because of the money.”
Hayes chuckled. “Thanks, Zack.”
“I’ll be over with the clothes in about an hour. That okay?”
“That’s fine.”
When he hung up, Minette brought him a big mug of freshly brewed coffee. She handed it to him gently.
“Taste that,” she said with a grin.
He did. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Oh, my gosh,” he groaned. “I’ve never tasted anything so sweet!”
“Told you so.” She checked her watch. “I have to go. Is there anything special you’d like for supper?”
He hesitated.
“Come on. We don’t live on a budget here. Not yet, anyway,” she chuckled.
“Cube steak with onions, mashed potatoes, green beans.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“I’m a meat and potatoes man,” he confided. “Any variation is a happy one.”
“I can handle that. Dessert?”
He swallowed. “Anything but gelatin.”
She burst out laughing. “Okay. I’ll get Aunt Sarah to make one of her chocolate pound cakes.”
“My favorite kind.”
She smiled. “Mine, too. Well, gotta go.”
“Minette.”
She stopped at the door and turned. Hearing her name in Hayes’s deep, smooth voice made her toes tingle and she had to hide it. “Yes?”
“Thanks.”
He looked very somber. She just nodded and left as quickly as she could. Maybe, she thought hopefully, maybe she could change Hayes’s mind about her after all. She was going to work on that, hard.
* * *
Zack Tallman was lean, tall, olive-skinned and black-eyed. He had Spanish blood, but he never spoke about his ancestry. He was thirty years old, and one of the best deputies Hayes had ever hired.
He came into the bedroom carrying a huge suitcase. He put it down on a straight chair by Hayes’s bed. “I think that’s everything you asked for.” He opened it.
With some difficulty, Hayes got out of bed and looked into the suitcase. “Yep,” he said, smiling as he pulled out the videos. “That’s everything.”
“You and your cartoon movies,” Zack sighed.
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with cartoons,” Hayes said defensively. He pulled out pajamas and underwear and a robe and slippers. “I want a shower, but I have trouble standing. You feel like helping me?”
“No problem, boss,” Zack chuckled. “You’d do the same for me.”
“In a heartbeat,” he replied. He managed a smile. “Thanks. I feel dingy.”
“No doubt.”
* * *
Zack helped him into the shower and stood outside the cubicle while Hayes managed to bathe himself and even shampoo his hair, one-handed of course. Minette had even thought of toiletries to put in the bathroom, because the brands were masculine. There was a razor on the sink, and when he was dried and dressed, with a little help from Zack, he even managed to shave.
“I think I’ll live,” he told the other man as he sank onto the bed under the covers. “Thanks a million, Zack.”
“You’re welcome. Need anything else?”
“Yes. Get out there with Yancy and find the guy who shot me,” Hayes replied.
Zack saluted. “On my way.”
“Keep me posted,” Hayes reminded him.
“You know I will.”
“And can you keep feeding Andy and Rex for me?” he asked hesitantly.
“You bet.”
“If you run out of fruit and veggies for Andy...”
“You had more than enough money in the cookie jar to take care of that,” Zack assured him. It was where Hayes kept his spare change, and over months of use, it added up to a tidy little sum.
Hayes laughed. “And people say spare change is useless.”
“Useless, my left foot,” Zack replied. “I’m saving up mine for a trip to Tahiti.” He frowned. “I figure by the time I’m seventy-two, I’ll have just enough.”
“Good grief.”
Zack grinned. “Just kidding. I don’t even like islands. You get better, boss. I’ll take care of Andy, no worries.”
“When the cookie jar gets empty...”
“You’ll be home by then. I guarantee it. Nice of Minette to let you stay here,” he added.
“Yes. Very nice.”
“She’s such an odd bird,” Zack mused. “Never dates anybody. Her whole life is those two little kids and her job. I guess they’d make it hard to have a serious relationship,” he said. “Most men don’t want somebody else’s kids.”
“I guess not.” Hayes had already thought about that.
“Still, she’s a dish,” Zack added wistfully. “Pretty and smart and brave. Imagine, taking on a drug cartel after those guys killed a whole newspaper staff over the border a year or so ago for writing bad things about them.”
“She takes chances,” Hayes agreed.
“Unwise. But brave.”
“Very.”
* * *
Hayes spent the day watching movies. Sarah came in with a light lunch, homemade roast beef sandwiches and hot coffee. Afterward, she brought him a slice of chocolate pound cake.
“You’ll never get rid of me if you keep feeding me like this,” Hayes said as he bit into the perfect cake. “You’re a wonderful cook.”
“It’s our pleasure to help out,” Sarah said.
He finished the cake and coffee and she started to remove the dishes.
“Why did Minette offer to let me stay here?” he asked suddenly.
Sarah hesitated.
“Tell me.”
She bit her lower lip. “Well, it bothered her that nobody would stay with you at home,” she began. “And she knew you hated being in the hospital. She said...”
“She said what?” Hayes persisted.
She grinned suddenly. “Do you know the passage in the Bible about heaping coals of fire o
n an enemy’s head by being kind to him?”
He burst out laughing.
“Well, it’s sort of like that,” she added.
He shook his head. “At least I understand it now.”
“She never gave drugs to anybody, Hayes,” Sarah said softly. “She never even smoked marijuana when she was in high school. Her mother was a fanatic about drugs. She wouldn’t even take an aspirin tablet for a headache and she put that attitude into Minette. Never understood why,” she said on a sigh. “She was a curious woman. But I loved her dearly.”
“Did Minette’s father use drugs?” he wondered, averting his eyes.
“Well, I don’t know. I never actually met her father.” She flushed. “I mean, the man my niece, Faye, married—Minette’s stepfather—didn’t use them, ever.”
He was shocked. He hadn’t been aware that Sarah knew Minette’s stepfather wasn’t her biological father. He frowned. “Then you don’t know what her real father looked like?”
“Not really. My niece didn’t speak of him,” she said. “I wonder if he had brown eyes, though. It amazed me that my niece produced a girl with Minette’s coloring. Nobody in our whole family for generations ever had black eyes. They were always blue.”
Hayes didn’t look at her. “Genetics are odd.”
“I’ll say!” She lowered her voice. “You know, Minette’s mother married her stepfather when she was about six months pregnant. It was such a scandal!”
Hayes bit his lip. “Was it?”
“Yes! She said her new husband didn’t mind about the pregnancy, though, he loved children. They even told Minette, when she was ten, that Stan loved her very much but that he was her stepfather. I wondered if she ever really understood that. She never speaks of it, even to me.” She picked up the cup and saucer and fork, looking thoughtful. “Still, as you say, genetics are very odd. If you need anything, you use that,” she indicated the speakerphone beside the bed on the table. “And I’ll be right up.”
“Thanks, Sarah.”
She smiled. “You’re very welcome.” She hesitated at the door. “You won’t mention to Minette, that I said anything about her mother?” she worried.
“Of course I won’t,” he assured her. “Not a word.”