Outlawed!

by BJ Daniels

  Jamison answered on the second ring.

  “You made two offers on the Rockin’ L,” Cooper said without preamble. “Behind my back.”

  Jamison was silent for a long moment. “It wasn’t my doing, Coop. The agency wants that ranch.”

  Cooper’s heart thundered in his ears. “What are you saying, Thom? That they’re willing to do anything to get it?” It was a question he’d asked before, only back then he’d been running the scam. He’d been the one who’d decided just what it would take to acquire a ranch. Now he realized he was just one of the players on the wrong side of a deadly game. And he worried how he’d gotten there.

  “The Rockin’ L is just one of many acquisitions planned in the agency’s overall—”

  Cooper knew the agency’s standard response by heart. “Don’t give me that crap, Thom. What’s going on? The company’s sent in someone else to get this ranch?”

  “There was a mix-up, Coop. You were supposed to acquire a cattle ranch in eastern Montana. Someone else was handling the Rockin’ L.”

  “Someone from the agency?” Cooper demanded. Jamison hesitated a moment too long. “Don’t tell me they hired someone local.”

  “The agency wants this ranch, Coop. And they plan to get it.”

  Cooper glanced over at a war monument someone had built across the blacktop road and noticed Ty Drummond’s pickup, and wondered suddenly where the out-ofwork rodeo cowboy got money to live on. “Why do they want the Rockin’ L so badly that they’d hire an amateur?”

  “You know the board doesn’t release that kind of information.”

  Cooper swore. All he knew was that Jamison fronted for a group of men who made up “the agency.” “I thought I could trust you.”

  “You can,” Jamison said wearily. “I’d tell you if I knew. It’s all very hush-hush. I just do what I’m told. And I was told to tell you that since you’re already there, they’d like you to stay on and keep me informed if there are any…problems.”

  “Problems?” Cooper laughed. “He tried to kill her.”

  “What?” Jamison demanded in surprise.

  “The guy the agency hired to get the ranch. He tried to kill Delaney Lawson in a rock slide yesterday.”

  “You know we specifically tell our people not to use excessive force—”

  “Is attempted murder considered excessive force, Thom? Because that’s where he’s at. And he’s going to take everyone down with him, including you. You’re looking at prison, Thom. And you aren’t going to like it—I can assure you of that.”

  “That’s why I need you there, Coop.”

  He heard an urgency in Jamison’s voice he’d never heard before.

  “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t even know who they’ve hired. Whoever it is reports directly to the board. That’s why I need you on the inside, reporting to me.”

  “You’ll try to find out who they hired?” Cooper asked, wondering why he was doing this, knowing it was because Jamison had always been straight with him. Because if there was anyone at Rattlesnake Range he could trust, it was Jamison.

  “I’ll work on it from this end. You work on it from there. And Coop, I can pull a few strings and double your commission on this one.”

  Cooper laughed to himself. For a moment there he’d forgotten why he’d become involved with Rattlesnake Range to start with. For the money. And now Jamison was offering him a way out. After this job, he wouldn’t have to work for Rattlesnake Range ever again if he didn’t want to. And all he had to do was let Jamison know what was happening. Why did it feel too easy?

  “Coop, I’m counting on you.”

  Jamison sounded scared. He should be.

  “I’ll phone when I’ve got something. If you need to talk to me before that, call me at the York Bar and leave a message.” He read the number off the phone and hung up.

  As he stepped away from the phone, he took a couple of deep breaths. Why did Rattlesnake Range want a relatively small horse ranch near Helena, Montana, bad enough that the agency would kill for it? It didn’t make any sense. Unless a lot of money was involved. That ruled out raising Morgan horses. It had to be something else, but what? The missing mother lode?

  Cooper didn’t like anything about this, hadn’t from the

  start. And now he felt double—crossed—no matter what Jamison had said about a mix-up. The agency had hired an amateur from outside, an amateur who’d almost killed Delaney—as well as Cooper himself—in a rock slide. The whole mess brought back his suspicions about Rattlesnake Range from his mishaps on his last job.

  His instincts told him to get as far away as fast as he could. When this thing blew—

  He got into his pickup. It’s not your problem, McLeod. You don’t owe Jamison anything. Let him get himself out of this. You don’t need this kind of trouble.

  Yet Cooper found himself headed for the Rockin’ L, right into the heart of trouble. He told himself he couldn’t leave until he found out what Rattlesnake Range wanted. And who they’d hired to do their dirty work. And of course there was the money. Going back had nothing to do with Delaney, he assured himself. Nothing to do with all that temptation in blue jeans or his fears for her life if Rattlesnake Range decided to make any more offers on her ranch. No, he was just going back to finish the job he’d started.

  As he pulled his rig under some pines, not far from the house, he noticed a dark green pickup parked in front. Rockin’ L Ranch, it read on the door. He got out and started toward the ranch house, then saw Delaney sitting on the porch with a man. Cooper swore under his breath as he re alized who the man had to be.

  “Speak of the devil,” Delaney said. “Buck, you remember Cooper McLeod, that rodeo cowboy you hired?”

  Chapter Six

  Buck frowned and stumbled to his feet. “Rodeo cowboy?” he repeated, sounding more than a little surprised.

  But he wasn’t as surprised as Cooper was to see him back a day early. Buck stood a solid six feet of hard-boned cowpuncher. Cooper had seen his kind before. The kind who could pick up a half-grown calf and toss it in the air like a cowpie. And right now he looked big and mean.

  As Cooper mounted the porch steps, his mind raced for a way out of this. He’d been so busy with all the other problems that came with this job, he hadn’t really given much thought to how to handle the little problem of his hiring. Not that he usually planned things. He’d just always talked his way out of trouble. Until the last job, he reminded himself.

  “I have to tell you the truth, Ms. Lawson,” Cooper said before Buck could say anything more. “I wasn’t entirely on the up-and-up with your ranch manager here.” He shot Buck his best smile and held out his hand. “Buck, it’s nice to see you again.”

  The cowboy hesitated, then with almost resignation took Cooper’s hand in a killer grip. Cooper smiled in acknowledgment of the not-so subtle warning, withdrew his aching fingers and quickly turned his attention again to Delaney. He was about to tell her some cock-and-bull story, but didn’t get the chance.

  “Buck?” a honey-filled female voice called from inside the house. “Could you come in here a moment?”

  “Sure,” Buck said, still frowning at Cooper as he pushed back his chair, but a lot of meanness had left his features. “Del, if you’ll excuse me?”

  “Buck, you aren’t getting off that easily,” Delaney said.

  “I’ll be back and we’ll get this straightened out,” Buck said, giving Cooper the evil eye before hurrying into the house.

  With relief, Cooper watched him go, then grinned over at Delaney. “Nice day, isn’t it?”

  “Save the charm, McLeod,” she said, shaking her head. “Buck might have bought it, but I’m not.”

  The phone rang. She groaned. “Don’t move,” she ordered as she got up to go in to answer it.

  Cooper let out a relieved sigh and glanced around the empty porch. Just what had Buck already told her? Did Buck’s surprise indicate that he hadn’t told her anything yet? Cooper sure w
ished he knew. Now more than ever he didn’t want to get fired—let alone shot.

  Voices from inside the house drifted on the afternoon breeze. Buck’s. And the honey-sweet one. Cooper tiptoed over to the screen door and, standing in the shadows, peeked in. Buck and a young blond woman were standing by the couch. A bunch of photo albums were strewn across the cushions, where the woman had obviously been sitting just a few moments ago. Cooper could catch only a few words, but Buck sounded upset. Sneaking across the porch, Cooper planted himself next to the open window near the two.

  “What are you saying?” the blonde asked.

  She was young, only about half Buck’s age, with wide green eyes and a button of a nose. Cute. But the oddest thing was that Cooper knew he’d seen her somewhere before. He just couldn’t put his finger on where. He swore under his breath. This could be trouble if she remembered him from one of his other jobs.

  Buck motioned for her to keep her voice down, as he looked over his shoulder. Delaney must have been in the office off the other end of the living room.

  “She thinks I hired this cowboy.”

  “So tell her you didn’t,” the woman snapped.

  “The point is, I was supposed to hire someone.” He brushed his fingers down the tumbled length of her bottleblond hair, coming to a halt just above her right breast. “I forgot because I was with you.”

  She giggled, wiggling a little under his touch, just enough to make Buck suck in his breath and pull back his fingers as if burned. She sobered. “You’re not going to lose your job, are you? She won’t give me that interview.”

  He looked pained. “Don’t worry, I’ll think of something.”

  “Can’t you tell her you were helping me with my research?” she suggested.

  “I don’t think that would necessarily make her happy. I’ve missed a lot of work helping you with your…research.”

  “Then come up with a better lie or something. Surely getting blamed for hiring a rodeo cowboy isn’t as bad as forgetting to do your job.”

  “You don’t understand—”

  Delaney came out of the office and they both turned. Cooper made a quick trip down the porch to lean against the railing and pretend to study the horizon. A moment later, the screen door creaked open.

  “Now, where were we?” Delaney asked.

  The look she gave Cooper made it clear she remembered exactly where they were.

  “Something about you not telling the truth, I believe?”

  “Why, hello,” said honey-sweet as she stepped through the open screen door past Buck to extend her hand to Cooper.

  Cooper gazed into her baby dark greens, looking for any sign of recognition. Zip. Either she didn’t know him, didn’t remember him or wasn’t letting on. He took her outstretched hand. She wasn’t as cute as he’d first thought. Or maybe his taste in women was changing.

  “I’m Angel,” she said, squeezing his hand.

  “Of course you are,” he answered, flashing her a grin. He knew her game. She was just hoping to save Buck. And Cooper didn’t mind playing; he was just trying to save his own neck.

  She giggled. “Angel Danvers. The writer.”

  “Cooper McLeod. The ranch hand.”

  Delaney let out a low oath. “Angel, if you could excuse us for a moment longer…”

  Angel turned, fingers going to her painted lips. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Of course you have things you must talk to Buck about.”

  She shot Buck a heart-melting smile that had the desired effect. Cooper had never seen a man look more smitten.

  “I’ll just go back in and look at the photos until you’re through.”

  “Yes, we need to clear up a couple of things,” Delaney said.

  “Then perhaps we can talk about that interview,” Angel said. “It just won’t be any kind of book without the history of your ranch in it.”

  “Ranch history?” Cooper asked, watching Angel’s swing, trying to remember that old expression…if I had a swing like that…And at the same time, trying to place where he’d seen it—and her—before.

  “Angel is a historian,” Buck said with a note of pride. “She’s doing a book on old ranches and I’ve been helping her do her…” His words died off as he realized Delaney was glaring at him. “Research.”

  “Okay, what’s going on here?” Delaney demanded the moment Angel was out of earshot. “And don’t tell me ‘nothing.’“

  “Well, the truth is…” Cooper said. He looked at Buck meaningfully, hoping the old fool would go along with him. “I might have oversold myself just a little to Buck.”

  Delaney let out a knowing chuckle. “I can just imagine.”

  “And I might have told him I was damned good with horses, but I might have failed to mention I’d done a little rodeoing.” He shrugged and glanced over at the ranch manager. “I needed the work.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Delaney. She studied him as though she’d be able to spot the truth if he so much as even moved a wrong muscle.

  “And what do you have to say about all this, Buck?” she asked finally, shifting her gaze to him.

  “Well, Del,” Buck said, studying the dusty toes of his boots. “I know how you feel about rodeo cowboys, and under normal circumstances I wouldn’t dream of hiring one—” He did a pretty good imitation of Cooper’s shrug and gave Delaney a poor-ol’-boy look.

  Cooper let out the breath he’d been holding. “Buck did me a favor, Ms. Lawson. And I owe him one.”

  Delaney searched their faces, her gaze shifting between them. “Is that right? Then why is it I’m having trouble believing either one of you?” She swore when neither responded.

  “Buck, tell your…friend I’ll consider that interview if it will get your mind back on your work. Have her stop by tonight,” she said, heading for the barn. She waved off his gushing gratitude. “McLeod, get saddled up. We’re going after those mares.” She strode across the yard, stirring up dust in her wake. “And Buck, if you’re of a mind to do a little work today, you could see if the haying is finished. We’ll need to get that burned barn cleaned up as soon as the arson expert’s done with his investigation.”

  “You bet, Del,” Buck called after her.

  The moment she disappeared into the new horse barn, he swung around to face Cooper, all that big and mean back.

  “Just what is your story, cowboy?” he demanded. “You and I both know damned well I didn’t hire you.”

  Cooper quickly told him how he’d ridden onto the ranch to look for a job but hadn’t found anyone around and had been taking a nap up in the hills on the way back, when Delaney found him and mistakenly thought he was already employed.

  “I meant it when I said I owed you,” he assured Buck. “I really do need this job.” Cooper didn’t bother to point out that he had Buck over a barrel now. Cooper doubted Delaney would take kindly to the fact that her ranch manager had just lied about hiring him.

  Buck made a good show of looking as if he was considering telling Delaney the truth, then nodded, clearly anxious to go tell Angel the news about the interview, as well as assure her that the new ranch hand was no longer a problem. “Well, you’d better be a damned good hand.”

  Cooper hustled off to saddle Crazy Jack, wondering what Angel saw in the well-preserved ranch manager. It wasn’t Buck’s good looks or his money, as far as Cooper could tell. And he wondered about her interest in the Rockin’ L. He knew it would drive him crazy until he remembered where he’d seen her before.

  DELANEY RODE with Cooper up into the high country, taking the long way around the rocky butte to avoid the narrow canyon and any more rock slides. She tried not to think about all the other recent calamities: her drugged mares, the fire, Buck’s infatuation with that Angel creature, and Cooper McLeod. Especially not Cooper McLeod.

  “Well, how about that,” Cooper said as they topped the ridge line. Below them the horses milled in the tall grass—an idyllic, tranquil setting so different from the one they’d witnessed the day
before. “Whatever they were drugged with seems to have worn off.”

  “That call I got earlier was from the veterinarian.” She looked over at him. His face was in shadow, but she could still see a hint of those blue eyes of his. “You were right. The horses were drugged with locoweed. Lucky guess, huh.”

  “Yeah.”

  Was it her imagination, or did he avoid her gaze?

  He hadn’t said much on the ride. Which was just as well, as far as Delaney was concerned. She wasn’t sure what had transpired between Buck and this cowboy, but none of it had rung true. She felt angry, and wasn’t sure exactly why. It was probably that blamed charm of McLeod’s. She’d seen the way he worked it on her. And Buck. And Angel. She grimaced, remembering how Angel and Cooper had hit it off. It was enough to make a grown woman sick.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you what other ranches you’ve worked on,” she said now, more determined than ever to check up on her new ranch hand.

  Cooper shoved back his hat. One eyebrow flicked up as he grinned at her. “I kinda thought you might want a list, so I wrote them down for you.” He handed her a piece of paper containing a half-dozen ranch names and phone numbers printed neatly.

  “It’s amazing the way you anticipate my every need,” she said, studying him.

  He grinned. “Isn’t it, though.”

  She made a mental note to call a few of them and stuffed the list in her pocket. “You don’t stay in one place long, do you, McLeod?”

  “Never found a reason to,” he said, leaning on his saddle horn as he gave her a long, lazy look.

  “Let’s get these horses out of here,” she said, spurring her mare and swearing under her breath. Why did she let him get to her?

  “Whatever you say, boss.”

  But as she rode away she had to admit the man had a way with horses. And women, she thought.

  After they got the mares back down into the valley, Delaney sent McLeod off to mend fence, having had more than enough of his charm for one day.