by BJ Daniels
On the way back to the bar, Cooper realized he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. That probably explained why he felt a little light-headed. He took a sip of his imported beer, which was now more than a little warm and flat, and told Jared he’d see him Saturday at the rodeo.
The sheriff seemed too pleased, Cooper thought as he went out to find Crazy Jack waiting for him in a grassy spot by the parking lot. He let out a piercing whistle and the horse came running over to him, almost knocking him down.
“Let’s go home, boy,” he told Crazy Jack as he mounted the animal and headed for the ranch. Home? When had he started thinking of the Rockin’ L as home? He shook his head at just the thought of Delaney and her determination to hang on to the ranch. She was going to get herself killed over nothing more than a piece of land and a few horses. It wasn’t worth it. Didn’t she realize that?
Chapter Eleven
“Buck?” Delaney looked over at him as he drove toward the ranch. He seemed more distracted than ever tonight, almost agitated. From the strong scent of perfume inside the cab of the truck, Delaney knew whom he’d been with and had a pretty good idea what he’d been up to.
He pulled himself out of his thoughts with a jerk. “Sorry, what?”
“Are you all right?” she asked, worried that after an amorous evening, Angel had decided to break it off.
“Just thinkin’.” Buck darted a look at her. “I stopped by your place earlier.”
“Something you wanted to talk about?”
He ran his hand over the top of the steering wheel. He couldn’t seem to hold still. “You know I was married once.”
She’d heard the scuttlebutt about his fateful marriage. Buck had married a Helena woman when Delaney was in junior high school, and after about six months, she’d taken off to become a showgirl in Vegas.
“It didn’t work out,” he said. “She didn’t like living way out of town on a ranch. Wanted to live in a city and wear fancy clothes and go out a lot.”
Just like Angel, Delaney thought. “Well, some women need that, Buck.”
“I suppose.” He glanced over at her. “But you don’t seem to. Don’t you ever wish you lived in town?”
She laughed. “No, Buck. Nor do I want to go live on an island.” He frowned at her in puzzlement. “Jared offered to take me to an island.”
“Seems your date didn’t work out so well,” Buck said.
Buck, the king of understatement. “You could say that.” She looked over at him. “What makes you think it was a date?”
“That’s what McLeod said when I stopped by the ranch.”
McLeod. She should have known. And to make matters worse, he’d been right about Jared being dangerous. Delaney just hadn’t realized how much until tonight. Not that she planned to admit that to Cooper.
“I’ve been doing some thinking,” Buck said.
She studied him out of the corner of her eye. They’d never been what she’d call friends. While almost a permanent fixture on the ranch, he was a lot older and tended to keep to himself. A loner, her grandfather would have called him.
“You thinking about getting married again, Buck?” she asked, hoping he wouldn’t feel she was prying. Also hoping he’d say no.
He looked surprised, then sheepish. “It crosses a man’s mind sometimes, you know? It’s not like I’m getting any younger.”
“But this woman you’re thinking about wouldn’t want to live on a ranch, right?”
He eyed her as if she had ESP.
“Buck, I have to assume it’s Angel.”
He laughed nervously as he turned off onto her ranch road. “I’m not even sure she’d have me, mind you, and I’d have to do a powerful lot of changing to make her happy.”
Delaney started to argue that if you loved someone, you didn’t require them to change for you, but she realized if she were to fall for a rodeo cowboy like Cooper—not that something like that would ever happen—she would want him to quit rodeoing. “You thinking about moving into town?”
He swallowed. “That and getting a better job that pays more.” He realized what he’d said. His eyes widened. “No offense.”
“None taken. Buck, you’ve got to do what’s right for you. If it’s moving into town and getting a different kind of job, then I wish you the best of luck. I’d miss you and you’d be damned hard to replace, but I wouldn’t stand in your way if it’s what you wanted.”
He felt relieved. And a little guilty. “Thank you, Del,” he said, avoiding her gaze.
And she realized he’d been doing that a lot lately. Angel certainly had put this man into a tailspin.
As Buck pulled into the ranch yard, Delaney automatically looked over at Cooper’s camp. No campfire lit the night. No light at all except the stars overhead. Nor did she see Crazy Jack around anywhere.
“I wonder where Cooper is?” she asked, thinking out loud.
“Angel and I saw him at the York Bar,” Buck told her.
She tried not to show her disappointment as she climbed out. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Are you going to be all right here by yourself?” Buck asked.
“Of course,” she said with a laugh. “I’ve lived here for years alone.” But no one has been taking potshots at her back then, she reminded herself. “I’ll be fine,” she assured Buck and herself.
He bade her good-night and drove away.
Delaney walked up the steps, her pumps making a completely foreign sound on the steps. She hugged herself, feeling a little cool although the night was warm. It struck her that Buck was right. She didn’t feel safe here anymore. It didn’t help that Cooper was gone.
Well, you’d best get used to it, because it’s only a matter of time before he takes off for good, she told herself as she locked the front door.
Going through the house she turned the lights on and off as she went, feeling like a scared kid. But she had to admit, her encounter with Jared had spooked her a little. Everything else that had happened had spooked her a lot.
And what Jared had said about her selling out before she got herself killed left little doubt in her mind that whoever was after her ranch meant business. Someone out there was determined to get the Rockin’ L. Someone, it seemed, who would even kill her for it.
Delaney shook her head, fighting back tears. It was becoming harder and harder not to give in to the fear.
Cooper was right. She had to do something. She was tired of feeling helpless, of waiting for the next rock slide or rifle shot. She couldn’t wait for the next time the brakes went out in one of her trucks. And that meant starting with Rattlesnake Range.
She flipped on the lights in her office and dug through the papers until she found the offers Thomas Jamison had made on their behalf. She scribbled a note to herself to call the attorney probating her father’s estate and ask him to check on Rattlesnake Range for her, and felt a little better. It was time she found out what was going on.
As she turned out the office lights, she decided she’d drive over to Butte and talk to Marguerite Drummond the next day. She needed to know everything she could about Ty. His mother seemed like a good place to start. Heading up the stairs, Delaney felt her bit of confidence disappear. She’d never been afraid in this house, but she was tonight. She wished Cooper were at his camp sleeping under the stars. Maybe she should have had Buck stay on the couch. With some nut case out there—
A loud thump outside stopped Delaney in midmotion. She clutched the stair railing and tried to hear over the pounding of her heart. Just the wind. Except there was no wind tonight. Maybe it was some small critter.
She heard the noise again. Louder this time. Someone was on the porch! And it wasn’t a small critter! At least she’d been smart enough to lock the front door. Not that whoever it was couldn’t come through a window if determined enough. Hurriedly she reached over and hit the light switch, plunging the house into darkness.
For what seemed an eternity, she stood paralyzed on the stairs, listening. There was the so
und again! Whoever it was was moving around the house, possibly looking in the windows!
Shaking, Delaney moved cautiously back down the stairs and edged along the wall to the gun cabinet. The door creaked as she reached in. She felt around until she found her father’s old revolver, which she kept for chasing off coyotes.
Feeling her way to the front of the house, she crept up to the edge of the window casing and peeked out. The ranch yard lay in a warm bath of yellow from the yard light. She stared out, straining to see into the edge of darkness that circled the ranch. Nothing moved in the quiet summer night.
She inched her way to a window at the side of the house and peered out, telling herself the sounds had just been her imagination. Right.
Suddenly a face appeared in the glass. Huge. Ugly. Horrible. Delaney let out a scream and fell back into an end table. The large western lamp toppled with a thud, along with Delaney. She lay on the floor, her heart hammering to get out of her chest. Gulping down a breath, she braced herself and looked toward the window. The face was gone. But not the memory of those eyes looking in at her. Crazy Jack’s wild eyes.
“Damn that horse,” she cried, stumbling to her feet. “I’m going to shoot him and Cooper.” It did little to still her anger at that stupid horse for scaring her half to death.
She slammed out the front door, ready to give Cooper and his horse a piece of her mind. “McLeod!” He didn’t answer. She looked toward his camp and saw nothing but darkness. “Damn your hide, McLeod!” She started toward his camper but stopped, suddenly feeling vulnerable in the middle of the yard. Alone. She’d left the revolver on the living room floor where she’d dropped it. Behind her she heard the shuffled steps of the horse. He’d picked up his oat bag, which he’d been dragging around. She smiled at the horse, her pulse slowing. What a horse! As unique as his owner.
“Come on, I’ll get you some oats,” she said, motioning toward McLeod’s rig.
Crazy Jack trotted toward the camper and truck. Delaney followed, wondering where Cooper was. Surely the horse hadn’t come home without Cooper. A sliver of worry worked its way under her skin. With all the accidents that had been happening on the ranch, what if Cooper—She hurried toward his camp.
COOPER AWOKE WITH A start to find Crazy Jack leaning over him in the dark, whinnying softly. He pushed aside the horse’s muzzle and reached for the .45 he kept tucked under his pillow. Sitting up in the sleeping bag he’d rolled out near a large old pine, he brought the pistol up with him at the sound of footfalls approaching his camp. He could see boots coming around the end of the camper. Shaking off the last of his deep sleep, he tightened his grip on the pistol, ready for whatever trouble might be coming.
The figure stepped into view. At first he didn’t recognize her. Then he saw her dark silhouette against the yard light leaking around the camper. He quickly slipped the pistol back under his pillow, but not before she’d seen it.
“Do you always sleep armed?” Delaney asked.
Her tone was cautious, suspicious, worried, almost angry. Things he didn’t want her to be.
He laughed softly, grinning up at her, turning up the charm the same way he turned up the lantern near his sleeping bag. “Like Jared Kincaid said, you never know when some sidewinder will wander into your camp.”
She smiled at that, but her body was still rigid, her attitude tense. He studied her face in the lantern light. She wasn’t so sure he wasn’t a snake who’d wandered into her camp.
He leaned back, trying to put her at ease. “Jared Kincaid seems to have staked a claim on you,” he said, surprised he’d said it, since he hadn’t meant to. But he was curious what role the rancher played in Delaney Lawson’s life. He assured himself he only wanted to know because of business. He had to know everything about Delaney to get his job done here. “Kincaid seems a little old for you.”
She laughed. “Don’t beat around the bush, McLeod. Why don’t you just come out and ask me if Jared and I ever were an item?”
“Were you?” he asked, surprised how much he wanted the answer to be no.
“It’s none of your business,” she said, shaking her head at him. “Do you always butt into other people’s lives this way, or is it just my life you find so fascinating?”
“I believe you’re the one who walked into my bedroom,” he remarked as he sat up, shoving the bedroll down around his waist. Delaney quickly averted her gaze from his naked upper torso and glanced around the camp as if she wasn’t sure what to look at. It was the first time he’d seen her uncomfortable, and he smiled, realizing he liked the hint of vulnerability he’d glimpsed.
“I wouldn’t have come over here if your damned horse hadn’t scared ten years off my life,” she said angrily, turning on her heels and stomping toward the ranch house. “Why don’t you feed the poor old nag?”
Crazy Jack let out a whinny. “She didn’t mean it,” Cooper said to the horse loud enough for Delaney to hear. “I think she really likes you.”
Delaney let loose an oath right before she slammed the front door of the ranch house.
Cooper leaned back, smiling up at the stars overhead. He was enjoying this job. Then his smile faded. He might be enjoying it too much. He couldn’t let Delaney Lawson keep him from doing what he had to do. No matter how intriguing the woman was.
THE NEXT MORNING Cooper went up to the house to invite Delaney over for breakfast.
“I’ve seen the way you cook, McLeod, and to tell you the truth, burned beans aren’t my idea of breakfast.”
He grinned. “How do you feel about sausage gravy, biscuits and eggs sunny-side up?”
She studied him for a moment, skepticism written all over her face. “If you can do that over a campfire, why do you eat beans?”
“I like beans.”
She smiled. He could tell it was against her will.
“Well?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I guess I’m going to have to see this to believe it,” she said, relenting. “I’ll bring the coffee.”
“You’re on.”
They sat around the campfire, the sun at their backs, and ate in silence. In the distance, a hawk circled in the clear blue, while a few young Morgans romped playfully in a near pasture. Cooper breathed in the sweet scent of summer—and Delaney—as he ate. Sitting so close to her had made him more aware of everything—from the smooth, warm surface of the log they shared to the feathered edges of the ponderosas etched against the skyline. He felt a longing like none he’d ever known. He told himself it was just simple desire, something he understood.
“Great breakfast,” Delaney said, glancing over at him as she set down her empty plate. “I take back what I said about your cooking.” She searched his face. “I can’t quite figure you out, McLeod. Why is that?”
“I’m a man of many talents,” he said, feeling his grin slip a little. He felt his skin prickle at the thought of touching her. Of her touching him. He put down his plate, telling himself the last thing he should do was reach for her.
The phone rang inside the house.
He took a ragged breath and let it out slowly. “I meant to ask you how your date went last night,” he said, feeling the need to change directions.
She shot him a look that said volumes and got up to go answer the phone. “I’d better get that. It could be something important.”
“I’m going to go take a bath,” he said, pointing toward the creek.
“You’re welcome to use the shower in the barn,” she said over her shoulder.
“I need the fresh air,” he said, watching her go, wondering who’d call this early in the morning.
WHEN DELANEY reached the house, the answering machine was just picking up. She started for her office but stopped when she heard the attorney’s voice and the defeat in it.
“Delaney, I just received word on the DNA tests,” he said.
The tests she’d insisted on. The results she’d asked called to her immediately. She felt her heart fall, her hopes and dreams with it.<
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“The tests were ninety-five percent conclusive. Ty Drummond is your half brother.”
Chapter Twelve
Delaney dropped into her office chair. In a daze, she listened to the rest of the message from the attorney. He explained they could run the tests again if she wanted, although he saw no reason to. With the use of her father’s baby teeth, the tests had been fairly decisive. But, he went on, the will Ty claimed was from their father could still prove to be a forgery. And even if it wasn’t, they could fight Ty in court for part of the ranch on the grounds that her father hadn’t been himself just before he died. Or she could still find a later will, the one her father had said he’d written, leaving her everything.
Delaney couldn’t believe it. She’d convinced herself that Ty wasn’t her brother, that he’d made up the whole story just for the money, that the will couldn’t be real—her father wouldn’t have done that to her. Now she worried that she’d been wrong on all counts.
What would Hank Lawson have done if he’d found out just days before his death that he had a son? Would he have left everything, including the ranch, to his only son? It was just the sort of thing a man like Hank Lawson might have done.
She buried her face in her hands and cried, the hurt and pain overwhelming. Her father had betrayed her. All the times he’d hurt her, forgetting her birthdays, missing school events, never being around when she needed him, nothing could compare with now.