“I’ll make new friends.”
“Where? Across the border? That might stop sheriffs like Tate, but it’s not going to stop the Hammonds. If they’re so terrible and so determined, don’t you think they’ll find you eventually? Then what will you do? You won’t have anyone to help you.”
His lips curved into a tight smile. “I didn’t know you still cared.”
Jodie ignored that. “If you’ve told the truth, you have nothing to worry about. We’ll find this Joe-Bob.”
“I thought you said—”
“Leave that to me.”
“I can’t stay here!” he asserted. “It’s too close. Someone’s liable to come up on me when I’m sleepin’ or somethin’.”
Jodie racked her brain. “I agree,” she said. “You have to get farther away. What do you think—out in the rough country, in the foothills? I won’t be able to contact you as easily, but that’s not something we’ll need to do again until everything’s settled.”
“I’m not waitin’ around forever. Not even in the foothills. I’d rather take my chances in Mexico than have the Hammonds find me off in some lonely canyon.”
“Give me until sunset Wednesday. If I haven’t contacted you by then, leave. I don’t know exactly what I’ll do yet, but I promise—I won’t tell anyone where you are.”
He considered her proposal, obviously torn between the desire to run away and the desire to have his name cleared. For the old Rio there’d have been no question. He’d already have hopped on her horse and ridden away to the pickup truck he had stashed, then been off to Mexico, leaving her to find her way back to the compound as best she could. The new Rio, though, the one who claimed to be innocent of murder, the one who claimed to have truly loved the murdered girl, stayed firm.
“All right,” he said. “Wednesday, sunset. You know the canyon with the old trapper’s shack in Big Spur?”
Jodie nodded. She knew it vaguely. Big Spur was one of the outer ranch divisions, very remote, with only one cowboy living in a trailer assigned to tend stock. The trapper’s shack, remote even within the remote division, had been used years ago by an employee of the federal government who trapped coyotes and bobcats.
“That’s where I’ll be, and I’ll keep an eye out for you,” Rio said.
Just then Tony let loose with a high piercing whinny, as if he’d seen another horse. Rio instantly ducked, hiding himself again in the shadows.
Jodie cautiously went to check if someone had come upon them. In the distance she saw several horses, grazing wild and free on a hillside. She patted Tony. “You want to be with them, boy?” she murmured.
The horse made a soft sound that might have been agreement.
Jodie returned to the schoolhouse. “It wasn’t anybody,” she said. “Everything’s clear.”
“This time,” Rio said ominously.
Jodie had nothing to offer in reply. She went back to the horse and remounted.
At first she’d thought she might have brought too many supplies. Now she was glad she had. As things turned out, Rio would at least have enough to eat and drink for the next three days.
She gave the schoolhouse one last look. All was quiet. No one would suspect that a wanted man was secreted inside, even if only for a short time longer.
WHEN JODIE RETURNED to the compound, it was to find Morgan Hughes camped out in a chair on Mae’s front porch, the rifle he normally carried with him when he rode the range resting across his lap.
“Where’ve you been?” he asked. “Tate called, told me I should get myself over here PDQ, to protect you and the ranch, and then I find you gone.”
Morgan had always been a favorite of Jodie’s, almost like another cousin.
“I had to go out,” she said.
“You know about these people who’re coming?”
“Tate told me.”
“Then you picked a pretty strange time to disappear.”
That was the only trouble with Morgan. As Tate had said, he was a trained law-enforcement officer, a commissioned Texas Ranger, who’d once worked for a private state-wide organization of ranchers to combat cattle theft. He’d gone off active duty, though, since taking over the foreman’s job for his father. Yet his instincts were just as keen. She had to tread carefully.
He got up to stand at the porch railing, the rifle hanging casually from one hand, the muzzle pointed at the floor. At least that was something she could feel good about, Jodie thought. If the Hammonds did show up right away and try to cause trouble, Morgan was perfectly capable of holding them off.
“I had an errand to run,” she claimed. She knew a way to take his mind off where she’d been. “How’s Christine?” she asked. “Almost another week down. Any signs of the baby coming?”
Morgan’s chiseled features creased immediately into a smile. “She felt a little twinge this morning, but it turned out to be a false alarm. I don’t know who was more disappointed—Erin or her.”
Jodie tucked her fingers into the back pockets of her jeans and rocked on her boot heels. She smiled. “Or you, too, right?”
“I have to admit I’ll be relieved when it’s over. When little Elisabeth’s with us all safe and sound and Christine’s through the delivery.”
“Are you going to be in the delivery room?” she asked.
“You bet. Wild horses couldn’t keep me outta there.”
A car engine caught their attention. Both looked toward the front of the compound to see who was turning into the long drive. It was Mae’s big black Cadillac, old but in perfect running condition, LeRoy at the wheel. With him were most of his family and all of Rafe’s.
LeRoy stopped to let everyone out before taking the car to the garage at the side of the barn. Harriet and Shannon were laughing as they supervised the younger children’s exit. They’d just come from a pleasant afternoon of visiting, and neither seemed to have a care in the world.
Jodie glanced inquisitively at Morgan, who answered quietly, “I didn’t want Christine to worry, so I just said I was needed over here, not why.”
Shannon caught part of his explanation and looked from Jodie to him—and then down to Morgan’s rifle. Her eyes widened. “What’s up?” she asked.
Harriet, who’d just turned from waving her husband away, did a similar double take, her gray eyes on the rifle.
The children started to scamper off, but both women ordered them to stay put.
Morgan said easily, “We could have a little trouble come our direction in a bit. That girl Rio Walsh beat up in Colorado died this morning. And now Tate says her father and brothers are on their way here to find him. The Parker Ranch is where they’re gonna want to start lookin’.”
“We’d hand him over with bells on if we knew where he was,” Harriet said.
“I know that, you know that, but they don’t. It’s somethin’ we’ll have to get across to them.”
“Rafe will never let them have free run of the ranch,” Shannon said.
Morgan patted the rifle. “That’s what I’m gonna tell ’em. Unless Rafe gets here first. Then he can.”
“She died!” Harriet exclaimed, shocked and looked at Jodie. It must have just hit solidly home with her that what had happened to the other young woman could just as easily have happened to Jodie.
Jodie tried to offer a reassuring smile, but her emotions were in such turmoil she failed. She was the only person who knew where to find Rio. She couldn’t betray him. Then again, didn’t she owe her family her first loyalty?
Rafe and Mae walked up the pathway from the work area, and when they spotted the group clustered by the front of Mae’s house, their steps quickened. It took only a moment for them to receive an explanation.
“No-good cowboy’s still causin’ us trouble,” Mae snapped fiercely. She looked tired, as if spending most of the day out on the ranch had been hard on her, even from the relative comfort of a pickup truck.
“Tate say what time they might turn up?” Rafe asked.
“Probably not
before six,” Morgan replied.
Everyone who had a watch checked it.
“It’s six now,” Rafe said.
Morgan merely nodded.
Rafe lifted his younger son, who’d been trying to gain his attention, into his arms. Little Nate gurgled with three-year-old pleasure. “Ice cream! Ice cream!” he demanded shrilly, which provoked the other children to join his chant.
Rafe turned the boy over to Shannon and rubbed the top of his older son’s head as he hopped up and down at his elbow. “Why don’t you and Harriet take ‘em over to our place and give ’em what they want?” he said to his wife. “Jodie, you help Aunt Mae.”
“Help me!” Mae exploded. “What’s she gonna do? Sit me down in my rocking chair and cover me with a lace shawl?” She looked around. “Where are Wesley and Gwen?”
“They’re staying the night at Little Springs,” Harriet said.
“Good. Now you keep those babies inside. Don’t let ‘em out unless you come with ’em.” She was more direct with her orders than Rafe had been. Her attention moved back to her great-nephew. “What do we know about these people?” she demanded.
While Rafe gave his limited response—he knew very little about them, unlike Jodie who had Rio’s assessment—Jodie edged away from the group, then escaped to her house. She had a lot to think about. She had to find a way to warn her family about the Hammonds without them learning how she knew. Also, there was her continuing problem with the elusive Joe-Bob. She’d promised Rio they’d find him. Now it was even more important!
She peeked through the curtain, to where Mae, Morgan and Rafe still stood in a tight group in front of her great-aunt’s house.
Her only consolation at that moment was that her family weren’t good people to cross, either. They were Parkers, on Parker land. And the Hammonds would be wise to respect that.
THE PATROL CAR’S powerful engine ate up the miles of the narrow two-lane highway as Tate raced to what he hoped would be a quiet setting. He’d decided that his best bet to prevent mayhem was not to try to intercept the Hammonds in town, but to be present himself at the Parker Ranch. And the sooner he got there, the better.
He doubted that the Hammonds had already arrived. It was a long hard drive south from the Colorado border—a twelve- to fourteen-hour undertaking that the men were performing in a highly emotional state. There was no way to tell how many unbroken hours they’d been awake before the girl died—she’d been hovering near death for more than a week. No way to tell how much they’d eaten—or drunk. Their tempers would be raw, easy to provoke. They’d be like powder kegs, ready to explode in their quest for vengeance.
And at the Parker Ranch they’d hit resistance head-on. When they demanded to search every nook and cranny of the place, they’d be refused. Then...KABOOM!
Rafe Parker and Morgan Hughes were on Mae’s front porch when Tate arrived, their rifles a hand’s reach away. Within seconds Mae and Jodie had joined them.
Tate parked his patrol car front and center before Mae’s house. He wanted it to be an emphatic statement to anyone who saw it that the law in Briggs County wasn’t to be taken lightly.
“Rafe, Morgan,” he said to the men, then turned to the women. “Hello, Mae...Jodie.”
Rafe and Morgan stepped to the porch railing. They didn’t look especially glad to see him, but neither were they hostile. Both were imposing individuals. Strong of will, unified in their determination to protect what was theirs.
“You have any new word on the Hammonds?” Rafe asked.
Tate shook his head. He’d left his hat on, content for the moment to let their business remain official. “Not a thing.”
“Then why are you here?”
He’d known it wasn’t going to be easy. These bigtime ranches were like feudal strongholds. They had their own rules and regulations, their own procedures, which usually boiled down to “Don’t bother us and we won’t bother you.” For an outsider to come onto their property, even someone they’d known for years, and try to tell them what to do wasn’t something they took to very well.
Tate kept his poker face. This was serious business. He was aware of Jodie on the fringe of the assemblage but couldn’t let his gaze wander toward her. “I think you know why. My job is to prevent trouble. They’re comin’ lookin’ for it, and you’ll give it to ’em if they push you too hard, which they’ll probably do.”
“Damn straight,” Morgan agreed softly.
“So I’m plannin’ to be here to prevent it.”
Rafe’s dark eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened. “You don’t think we can do that?”
Tate answered carefully. “I’m sure you’ll want to, but they may not let you. From what Sheriff Preston tells me, they went berserk when the girl died. They’re not goin’ to want to listen to reason. Think how you’d feel if the same thing had happened to someone you love.”
Jodie made a soft sound that Tate steeled himself not to respond to.
Rafe’s jaw set even harder. “I’m still not giving ’em free run of the ranch.”
“I don’t expect you to. All I want is for you to let me hang around and help keep the lid on things when they get here.”
Rafe’s dark eyes bored into him. A prototypical Parker, the strength of his will was awesome. Through sheer nerve, hard work and fierce determination the Parkers had carved a place for themselves in this rugged and often hostile land the previous century. That same determination carried through to this day.
Tate returned Rafe’s gaze unflinchingly.
“All right,” Rafe said after another moment passed. “You can stay. We’d rather not have this meeting get out of hand, either. Like you say, these people are hurtin’.”
“It’s that danged Rio Walsh!” Mae spit. “I knew the first time I set eyes on him that he was gonna be trouble. I should’ve put my foot down right then.”
Rafe relaxed a bit as a slow smile tilted his lips. “That must be the first time in history you ever kept your feelings to yourself.”
Morgan smiled, too, but wisely didn’t comment.
Mae sputtered even as Rafe continued, “Rio was a damn fine cowboy—that’s why he got the job. If he’d stuck to that, he’d probably still be here.”
“A skunk can’t hide its true colors for long,” Mae declared.
“Shouldn’t that be ‘smell’?” Rafe countered teasingly.
Mae lifted an eyebrow. “Hush up, boy. We have business to attend to.” She turned to Tate. “You’re welcome to stay as long as it takes, Tate. Now, first order—have you had anything to eat lately? Rafe and I haven’t. I was goin’ to get Marie to put some sandwiches together for us before all this came up. She can easily make more.”
Tate couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. “A sandwich sounds good, thanks.”
“She’ll make enough for everyone. Jodie, go tell her.”
Jodie didn’t move. She didn’t seem to have heard. Suddenly she gave a start and apologized, “I’m sorry, I—”
“Go tell Marie to make some sandwiches,” Mae repeated. “Enough for everyone. And maybe some of that potato salad we had yesterday. It could be a long evening.”
A tinge of pink lent color to Jodie’s cheeks. Her hair was beginning to grow out, soft curls starting to feather and fluff. She’d always had wonderful eye-catching hair, both the shade—flaming copper—and the sheer abundance. Tate wanted to touch her hair again now, only this time not lightly as he had yesterday. He wanted to thread his fingers into the soft silkiness, then pull them through and watch as the late-afternoon sun turned the strands into fiery rivulets of red and gold.
Their eyes met and for a second Tate lost the ability to breathe. The way she looked at him—did she know what he was thinking?
She turned away to do her aunt’s bidding, and the world settled back into place, leaving, it seemed, only Tate shaken.
“Tate?” Mae said his name as if she was repeating it. He moved his gaze. “Are you plannin’ on staying the night?” she ask
ed. “Because if you are, you can have one of the guest rooms in my place. They both overlook the driveway.”
“No, thank you, Miss Parker. I’ll stay in the patrol car.”
“I won’t hear of it!” Mae exclaimed. “You couldn’t be comfortable there!”
“I’ve done it before,” Tate replied, smiling.
“Well, I wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink thinkin’ about you. At the very least let us set up a cot in the living room. You’ll be just a few steps away from anything that happens. I won’t accept less.”
She’d said it and she meant it. As gracefully as he could, Tate accepted her autocratic hospitality. If he had a need for it. Personally he hoped the Hammonds would just show up and get the whole affair over with. He was planning to escort them into Del Norte and house them at the town’s lone motel overnight. That is, if they behaved. If they didn’t, the county would pick up the tab. They couldn’t get up to much mischief from the inside of a jail cell. And tomorrow they could all start over.
JODIE SLIPPED into a downstairs bathroom after delivering Mae’s message to Marie and ran a cool damp hand over the back of her neck. She had to stay focused. She’d already set her course of action—tell Tate. And Tate was even here, removing her need to seek him out. All that remained was to get him off by himself and—
A quiver of emotion played along Jodie’s spine, an excited little trill of anticipation She’d caught the look he’d given her moments before and recognized it for what it was. That it had happened in the midst of all this turmoil surprised her. But very little had ever been as expected in her life.
—and tell him. About Rio, about Joe-Bob, and all she knew about the Hammonds! She—
She wanted to do more than talk to him. She wanted to look deeply into his eyes and watch as they ignited with desire. She wanted to feel his arms go around her and pull her close. She wanted to feel his lips press hungrily on hers.
—she had to beg for his help! Only, would he help when she refused to tell him where Rio was hiding?
She looked at herself in the mirror. At the short hair, pale face and serious expression. She was changing. Somehow, somewhere deep inside herself a shift was taking place. She could sense it even though she didn’t understand it—or even begin to grasp the implications. Did it have something to do with Tate?
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