by BJ Daniels
He let her lead the way back down. He liked following her, but not just because of the view. He felt she’d be safer with him bringing up the rear. The feeling surprised him. He hadn’t felt protective toward a woman in a long time. Especially one as capable as Delaney Lawson. But it also meant he thought she needed protecting. And that worried him.
They were almost out of the narrow canyon of rock, almost to their horses, when he heard the splatter of small stones, like raindrops overhead. He glanced up, caught a blur of color and lunged for Delaney. Catching her around the waist, he took her down into the gravel at the edge of the rock wall. They hit hard, Cooper absorbing most of the impact as he pulled her back under the overhang, drawing her tight against his body.
“What the—” Delaney’s words were drowned out by the rock slide that whirred in front of them as loud as helicopters. Rocks hammered the creek bed in a meteorlike shower. Delaney pressed into him and he held her tighter.
“McLeod?”
It took him a moment to realize the rocks had quit falling. It took another to realize the thudding of his heart was only partially due to the near accident. He lay with Delaney spooned against him, his arms wrapped around her, his forearms against her soft, full breasts, his face buried in her hair. At every point where Delaney’s body pressed against his, he felt the heat of desire. She turned in his arms, and without thinking, he sought her lips—
”McLeod.” Her lips barely brushed his and were quickly gone as she slipped out of his embrace, leaving him with nothing but her hat in his hands. Fast on her feet, he decided, looking up at her standing over him.
He’d thought he might see at least a little fire of longing burning in her eyes. There was a fire, all right. But this one could have been set by an arsonist—a very mad one. Forget longing. Forget desire. Only anger burned in those dark eyes. A whole lot of anger. And all of it directed at him. She stood with her hands on her hips, eyes blazing.
“And just what was all that about?” she demanded.
Realizing he still held her hat in his hands, he got to his feet and picked up his rifle. “Ma’am?”
Angrily she dusted herself off as if she could erase the feel of him against her and picked up her own rifle from the ground. “Don’t ma’am’ me, you…you…” She waved her hand through the air.
He joined her in the rock-strewn creek bed. “You don’t have to thank me for saving your life—”
“Saving my life! Is that what you were doing?”
Her ebony hair spilled around her shoulders. She threw it back as she narrowed eyes as dark as midnight at him.
“And here I thought you were just taking advantage of the situation.”
He looked down at her hat in his free hand. What was wrong with him? He’d charmed his way into enough women’s hearts to know better than to overplay his hand. Why in God’s name had he tried to kiss her? He met her gaze. Because at that moment all he’d wanted was to kiss her. Great. “Pardon me, ma’am—I don’t know what I was thinking,” he answered honestly. “It was just a crazy impulse.”
She took the hat he offered her, her fingers shaking. “McLeod, I have enough problems without you—”
“I’d say you’re right about that. But before you fire me, there’s something you might want to know. That rock slide wasn’t an accident.”
She glared at him. “And how do you know that?
He studied her, realizing he had nothing to lose. She planned to can him, and he couldn’t say he blamed her. “I think there’s something you’d better see.”
They hiked back up the mountain, then across the top of the rock butte. The sun slipped toward the mountains to the west, stealing across the sky, taking the heat with it.
“See those?” He pointed to the boot tracks in the dust where he’d seen the flash of clothing. The rocks had been disturbed where someone had started the rock slide. “Right before the slide, I saw someone up here.”
DELANEY FELT her legs turn liquid beneath her. She plopped down on a large boulder at the edge of the steep bluff, all her strength suddenly gone. Cooper was right. Someone had purposely started the rock slide. She rubbed the back of her neck, trying to make sense of everything that was happening, slowly realizing that like it or not, Cooper had saved her life. She looked up to find him silhouetted against the sinking sun. She didn’t need to see his face to know he was watching her.
“I’m sorry. I thought you’d somehow orchestrated the rock slide just to—” She bit down on her lower lip, realizing how crazy that must sound. Almost as crazy as that split second when she’d wanted to kiss him.
He grinned. “I usually don’t have to pull off such elaborate feats to get a kiss from a woman.”
“I’m sure you don’t.” She tried to laugh, but it came out a whisper. “Thank you.”
“Forget it,” he said, seeming to study the dusty toes of his boots.
Delaney pushed herself up and walked toward a stand of pines, fear mixing with anger as she thought about the person who’d drugged her horses, who’d no doubt caused her other “accidents,” who’d just tried to kill her. She stopped at the sight of a horse’s tracks in the dirt and squatted to study them. One of the horse’s shoes had been barred across the back, a corrective measure for a broken hoof, and just as individualized as a fingerprint.
She looked up to find Cooper standing over her.
“Recognize the horse?” he asked, nodding at the print.
She shook her head. “It could even be one of mine.” The shoer had just been to the ranch. Buck hadn’t mentioned a horse with a broken hoof, but she hadn’t seen much of Buck lately. She pushed herself to her feet, fighting tears of anger, fear and growing frustration.
“Maybe I’m out of line again, boss, but I can’t help thinking you know who’s doing this. And why.”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she turned. Her first impulse was to tell him to mind his own business. But he’d just saved her life, hadn’t he? Her gaze wandered across the land, then settled on Cooper. “I knew he wanted the ranch,” she said quietly. “I just never believed he’d try to kill me to get it.”
Chapter Three
Delaney found she was shaking by the time they reached their horses. A delayed reaction. From her near escape in the rock slide. Her near escape from kissing Cooper McLeod. She didn’t know what had possessed her. She blamed it on fear, on all the bad luck she’d been having, on this cowboy’s unexpected insight on the mountain.
“Is it Jared Kincaid?” Cooper asked as he put his rifle back into his scabbard.
It was a question she knew he’d been dying to ask, but she hadn’t given him a chance.
She sheathed her own weapon and swung up into the saddle. “Jared? Why would you think that?”
“He seems to have an interest in your bad luck,” Cooper said as he mounted Crazy Jack.
Delaney watched him, thinking the same could be said of Cooper McLeod. But Cooper had almost been caught in the rock slide with her, she reminded herself. If it hadn’t been for him—“Jared’s made no secret of the fact that he’d like the Rockin’ L. But this isn’t his style.” She hesitated, having never voiced her fears before. “A man claiming to be my half brother showed up at the ranch about a month ago, about the time my so-called bad luck started.”
“A half brother you didn’t know about?” Cooper asked, incredulous.
Delaney looked toward the mountains, debating how much to confide in McLeod. He’d just saved her life; she owed him at least the truth. “It seems he’s the son of an old…girlfriend of my father’s.”
“You don’t sound surprised. Or convinced he’s your brother.”
They rode toward the ranch house, the sun melting behind the peaks. “Surprised that my father had mistresses?” She shook her head, but couldn’t meet McLeod’s gaze. “Hank Lawson required more attention that any one woman could give a man, not even my mother, who adored him. Ty’s mother was one of many. I guess that’s why I don’t bel
ieve Ty Drummond is my half brother.”
Cooper pulled off his hat and ran his fingers through his sandy blond hair. It was a gesture Delaney had seen her father do a hundred times.
“I heard about Hank’s death while I was riding the circuit. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head at the memory. “He was still riding bulls in small exhibition rodeos, even though he was too old for it and had been hurt too many times. He just couldn’t quit.” She glanced over at Cooper. “And I’m sure you also heard about the bull that killed him. Its name was Death Wish. How appropriate, huh?”
“Riding bulls is dangerous no matter what the bull’s name. It’s just something some men have to do.”
“So my father told me.” She couldn’t help sounding disgusted. What was wrong with grown men who had to ride wild bulls or broncs? Was it the thrill? The challenge? Or did they have to continue proving themselves? Her father had never been able to explain it to her. And she doubted Cooper McLeod could, either.
They were almost to the ranch. It sat just over the next rise. Delaney quickened her pace. It was a sight she never tired of. Her grandfather, Del Henry Lawson, had built the two-story ranch house. It had weathered many storms over the years—from the worst blizzards to the loss of her mother and finally the death of her father. She hoped the house had the strength to weather more storms, because she knew it was going to have to, and soon.
As the home place came into view, she watched Cooper take it in. He nodded with appreciation.
The house seemed to fill the open landscape, stone glistening, logs glowing warm in the failing sun. Shadows lounged in the shade of a wide porch that ran the width of the house. Behind it all, ponderosas glistened like dark silk against the rocky bluffs. A small creek wound its way through the pines. Off to the side, an old barn hunkered, its horse weather vane reflecting the last of the sun. Another, newer, barn and corrals stretched to the south.
“It’s beautiful,” Cooper said.
She could feel his gaze on her. It warmed her face the way the sun had.
“It means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”
She smiled at that. “It means everything to me, Mr. McLeod. I’d die before I’d let anyone take it from me.”
He frowned as if suddenly hit by a sharp stab of pain, and she wondered if his leg bothered him more than he let on.
Her smile faded as they rode nearer and she saw the beat-up pickup parked off to the side of the house. “Damn,” she swore under her breath. “It looks like you’re going to get to meet my alleged half brother, Ty.”
COOPER SPOTTED a lanky young cowboy in the shade of the porch, his feet up on the railing, his hat tipped back. His look, as well as his demeanor, oozed defiance.
“I can take care of your horse if you want to go on up,” Cooper offered.
But Delaney shook her head. “Let Ty wait. It will be good for him. And I’d just as soon you not take off yet.”
She seemed a little rattled. He figured Ty was to blame.
“I have some tax forms I need you to fill out, so you might as well come on up to the house.”
They unsaddled the horses and Cooper cut Crazy Jack out with the others. One of the horses in the corral was still lathered up, as if it had just been run hard, he noted, hoping it wasn’t Buck’s horse. For a while, Cooper had forgotten about the lie he was living. But Buck Taylor would certainly take care of that once they met. Cooper wondered also when the real ranch hand would turn up.
“I suppose that’s Buck’s horse in the corral?” Cooper said, pointing at the freshly ridden dark bay.
Delaney frowned. “No, he keeps his horse, Sugarfoot, down at his place. And Buck’s out of town for a few days, so he couldn’t have ridden any of these horses.” She glanced toward the lathered bay. “I’ve got a couple of college kids helping with the haying while Buck’s gone. Maybe one of them took the horse out.” She wasn’t convinced.
Cooper climbed into the corral and checked the prints the bay was making in the dirt. No barred horseshoe.
Delaney seemed lost in thought as they walked toward the ranch house. Ty hadn’t moved from his spot on the porch, but Cooper detected an agitation that belied the cowboy’s apparent calm. His age surprised Cooper. Ty looked to be in his late twenties, like Delaney.
Yet there wasn’t much real resemblance between the two. Ty was dark like Delaney, but lacked the striking features that made her beautiful. His eyes were a lighter version of hers, but there was no kindness in them, no compassion, no passion at all. Just an icy darkness that seemed bottomless.
“I heard about the horses,” Ty Drummond snarled before Delaney reached the porch.
He sounded accusing and belligerent and Cooper suspected he’d been drinking.
“Jared said—”
“Jared?” Delaney asked, pushing back her hat to look up at him as she leaned against the porch railing.
Cooper watched the two of them from the yard.
“I ran into him in town,” Ty said, avoiding her gaze.
“You didn’t by any chance borrow one of my horses this afternoon, did you?”
He jerked around to glare at her. “Your horses?” Then he gave the idea a dismissive shrug. “What would I need with a horse?”
“I was wondering that myself,” Delaney said.
Ty glanced around the ranch yard, pretending a nonchalance he wasn’t pulling off. His gaze fell on Cooper. He eyed Delaney questioningly.
“Cooper McLeod is my new hand,” she said with more force than she had earlier with Jared. It made Cooper feel a little better. “This is Ty Drummond.”
Ty glared at her, then tipped his hat at Cooper. “I’m her brother.”
“Half brother,” Delaney corrected as she climbed the steps and pushed open the screen door. “Maybe.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Cooper, come in and I’ll get those forms for you to fill out.”
He liked the way she called him “Cooper,” even though he figured she only did it to make him sound more important than he was to needle Ty. Nor was he fooled by her asking him inside the house to fill out some tax forms. He figured she didn’t want to be alone with Ty. He couldn’t blame her. Ty made him nervous, too, but for a different reason.
Cooper followed her into the house. He’d seen photographs of the inside, but none had done it justice. A huge rock fireplace dominated the room. Pine floors gleamed golden beneath a scattering of rich-colored Native American rugs. The furniture, while rustic, looked comfortable, the cushions colorful and inviting.
Behind him, he heard Ty’s boot soles slap the floor with angry thuds. The cowboy shoved past him and into the kitchen.
“You can’t keep ignoring me,” Ty called, stomping after Delaney. “I have our father’s will, naming me heir. The Rockin’ L is mine and you know it.”
Cooper swore under his breath. A will naming Ty heir to the ranch? This was worse than he’d thought. How many more surprises were going to turn up like dead bodies on this ranch? Cooper wondered.
“All I know is what my father told me a week before he died,” Delaney said, her voice carrying into the living room. “He said he’d made out a will, leaving me the ranch and everything else, including his bills.”
“So where is this will?” Ty demanded. “Show it to me.”
“It will turn up, don’t worry.”
Delaney sounded worried, but she wasn’t half as worried as Cooper. He had to call his employers—and soon. This job was starting to go sour just like the last one, he thought as he trailed Ty and Delaney into the kitchen.
Like the living room, the kitchen had the same warm and cozy feel to it. Pots hung from the ceiling. A checked redand-white tablecloth draped the long wooden table. Wild flowers sat in the middle in an old white porcelain vase. Cooper frowned, realizing they must have been from an admirer, because Delaney Lawson seemed too busy a ranch woman to stop to pick flowers.
Ty stomped over to the table and dropped a bundle of letters tied with a ragged purple ribbon o
nto the tablecloth. “You wanted proof that I’m your brother—there it is.”
Cooper watched Delaney pour two glasses of lemonade. She handed one to him, then looked at Ty.
“I don’t want any lemonade,” he said impatiently. “Well, aren’t you even going to look at them?”
Cooper watched her glance toward the package of worn letters, but she didn’t reach for them.
“They’re love letters,” he said smiling, obviously enjoying her discomfort. “From our father to my mother. I was his son. And he wanted me to have this ranch.”
Delaney laughed. “Too bad you weren’t around to help pay the bills when he was alive.”
Anger rose up Ty’s neck like a deep red rash. “I didn’t know I was his son. No one bothered to tell me.”
Delaney studied him for a moment, then opened the fridge and began to rummage around inside it as if she were searching for something. Cooper figured she just didn’t want to deal with this and he couldn’t blame her.
“The courts will decide…” Delaney said from inside the refrigerator.
“You’re just trying to drag this out.”
He glared at Cooper, probably since his glares at Delaney were going unnoticed.
“I’ll have this ranch, and sooner than you think.” He picked up the bundle of love letters, bumping the table and spilling the vase of flowers. “You can have the copies of the letters,” he said, dropping some papers on the table before he stomped out. Cooper heard the front door slam and, a moment later, a rough-sounding engine start, then a rattling pickup sped off down the road, gears grinding.
Delaney slammed the refrigerator door and leaned against it. “So what do you think of Ty?” she asked sarcastically.
“As charming as Jared Kincaid,” Cooper said, picking up the copies of the love letters and spilled flowers and mopping up the water with the towel Delaney tossed him. “But I can’t help thinking he’s not the one behind your accidents—or the rock slide today.”