by Norah Wilson
“I’d love to.”
“Good. There’s a nice grassy spot overhung by trailing willows that’s just—”
She held up a hand to stop him. “After I’ve located Marlena.”
“Again with Marlena?” Cal groaned. “What is it now? Another premonition?”
“Yeah.” She grimaced. “I know you think it’s silly. Do you mind?”
He suppressed a sigh. The last thing he wanted to do was go hunting for his ex-wife. What he did want to do was tell Lauren how his heart had stopped with fear when his men had told him she’d tried to put her slight frame between his unconscious body and Misadventure. How it still pounded when he thought of her in that corral with that beast. And God, yes, he wanted to give her an orgasm under that willow, this time with his mouth and hands. And afterward—
“Cal?”
He blinked the image away. It would all have to wait. They didn’t have time for what he had in mind anyway, and while he couldn’t understand this bug Lauren had for Marlena, he could see her concern was genuine. “Well, I guess if anyone could get herself into trouble anywhere at any time, it would be Marlena. If it’ll set your mind to rest, let’s go find her.”
“Thank you.”
The gratitude in her eyes was enough to make him very glad he’d acceded to her request. “My pleasure.” Taking her elbow, he guided her outside.
They didn’t have to go far. A shiny black Ford F450 pulled up just as they passed the corral.
“That’s McLeod, come to see the third bull ride, I imagine,” Cal said. “Can we hang back a sec so I can tell him it’s off?”
“Sure.”
Harvey jumped out of the truck, but instead of heading toward Cal immediately, he circled the truck and opened the passenger door. Cal’s stomach lurched. He couldn’t see the passenger through the smoke-tinted windows, but he had a damn good suspicion. An instant later, like a Cinderella being helped from her gleaming heavy-duty carriage, Marlena emerged regally. Then Harvey stepped in close to her and kissed her full on the mouth with explicit possessiveness, and Marlena gave it right back to him.
“Oh, for the love of God!” Cal muttered. “Of all the men Marlena had to choose from this weekend, she had to go and pick Harvey McLeod.”
“He’s very charming,” said Lauren in a halfhearted defense of Marlena, “and you told her yourself he’s wealthy.”
“Yeah, well, it’s what I didn’t tell her that worries me.”
Lauren gripped his arm. “What do you mean? What should she know about Harvey McLeod?”
“Well, for starters, he’s the kid’s father, or rather, he was until that paternity test disproved it and he disowned him.”
“Whose father?” Lauren’s grip tightened, and her voice was urgent.
“Brady’s,” Cal said.
“Harvey McLeod is Brady’s father?”
Cal tugged Lauren up against his chest. “Geez, could you say it a little louder?” He glanced at the people milling around outside the corral.
“Why didn’t you tell me that?” she hissed.
“I just did.” He looked at her, baffled. “And like I said, Harvey is not really Brady’s father. I imagine that news would be tough enough to handle without the man you knew as your father for your whole life kicking you to the curb because of it.”
“Omigod, this is awful!”
“It was nasty, all right,” Cal agreed, keeping his voice down. “And just to turn the screws, Harvey made them—his ex-wife Carol and Brady both—surrender the McLeod name. Made it part of the settlement, I guess, that they both take Carol’s maiden name. By all accounts, by that time Brady was more than happy to shed Harvey’s name.”
“Oh, this is so not good. Brady will be wild if he sees.”
“That ship sailed,” he said. “Though why it matters so much to you, I can’t imagine.” For the benefit of any onlookers, he dropped a kiss on her tightly closed mouth.
Her fingers dug into his ribs, hard, and he lifted his head.
“Cal, stop it! What on earth are you doing?”
“What’s it look like I’m doing? Making a spectacle of us so everybody doesn’t gawk at Marlena. For Brady’s sake, not Marlena’s,” he clarified. “I stopped caring what other people thought about Marlena’s antics a long time ago.”
She strained in his arms, twisting to search for the younger man, but he held her still. “No, don’t look. It’ll only compound his humiliation.”
She subsided in his arms. “Oh, no. This changes everything.”
Geez, there she went again with the dramatics. “What do you mean?” Cal caught her chin in what he hoped looked like a lover-like grasp. “How does this change anything? Marlena couldn’t have made her…admiration…for Harvey more plain the last time we crossed paths with him.”
She pulled away. “But I didn’t know that Harvey…that Brady…”
“Yeah, but Harvey and Brady knew.” His eyes narrowed on her face as he let her go. “What does your knowing change?”
“It’s so much more volatile than I thought.” She chewed her lip anxiously.
It dawned on him then. “Oh Lord, this all plays into your thing about Marlena, doesn’t it?”
She colored but held his gaze. “Am I worried that she’s putting herself at risk with her behavior? Absolutely.”
He laughed harshly. “Join the crowd. Marlena makes an art out of putting herself in these situations. Ain’t nothing we can do about it. What we can do is deflect attention.”
“But…”
“Trust me when I say I’ve had some experience in this,” he gritted. “Come on, let’s join the other guests.”
Cal placed a possessive hand on Lauren’s back, guiding her over to join the crowd gathered outside the corral. As he hoped, his uncharacteristic public display had drawn attention to himself and Lauren. Anything to get the focus off Marlena, Brady, and Harvey.
“Afternoon, Cal.”
Harvey’s voice, right behind him. Damn the man. Couldn’t he just get in his vehicle and go back home?
“Harvey.” He cast his neighbor a casual glance, moving closer still to Lauren. She relaxed into him, playing the part. “Hope you’re not back for an encore. I sent Misadventure home earlier after that last mishap. There won’t be a repeat.”
Harvey flashed a toothy grin. “Yeah, I heard you blinked.”
Cal smiled a slow, fierce smile as he fought down the urge to knock a few of his neighbor’s pearly whites down his throat.
“Yeah, that’s right, McLeod. When it comes to other folks getting hurt, I guess I just don’t have your stomach for it.”
Harvey’s smile widened, but his eyes turned hard. “You got the stomach for some other stuff, though, don’t you, Taggart? A little garden-variety cover-up, for instance.”
Conscious of their audience, Cal drew himself up, putting Lauren behind him. “You got something to say to me, McLeod?”
“Me? No, I got nothing to say. Not when this says it so much better.” Harvey uncurled a newspaper he’d been clutching white-knuckled in his right hand and thrust it at him. “Deadly Anthrax Outbreak Suspected at Foothills Guest Ranch.”
Cal felt as though he’d been turned to stone as Harvey swiveled the paper around for all to see. Impossible. That veterinary inspector had given his word that he wouldn’t go to the press. But there it was in black and white.
“What’s wrong, Taggart? Didn’t want your guests to know they’re locked down here while this gets swept under the rug?”
Hell, how’d he know that? “Dammit, Harvey, nothing’s being swept under the rug. There’s no positive diagnosis yet.”
Harvey snorted. “That supposed to make me feel better?” He curled the paper up and wagged it like an accusing finger. “The pasture where that dead steer was found is hard up against one of mine, and you didn’t see fit to tell me?” Harvey waved the paper toward his audience: “You didn’t see fit to tell these folks?”
Cal’s fingers curled into fists, bu
t before he could lay hands on McLeod, Lauren stepped quickly between them.
“Wait a minute, Mr. McLeod,” she said. “Your herd is one thing; I understand your concern. But as far as Cal’s guests go, there’s no risk to them of contracting anthrax.”
“Yeah, right.” Harvey’s handsome face had turned a mottled red. “It gives hardened soldiers nightmares, but these folks shouldn’t worry about it?”
Cal shouldered his way past Lauren. “That biological warfare stuff is a different thing, and you know it.”
“Excuse me if I don’t feel reassured, especially after you kept it under wraps for two days.”
“If you don’t believe Cal, you can believe me,” Lauren said calmly, though Cal noticed her own hands were fisted too. “I’m a qualified veterinarian. I’m telling you the risk to humans is negligible, even if they were exposed, and no one was exposed.”
“How can you be sure it’s so negligible?” Harvey shot the question at Lauren, then turned back to Cal. “You said yourself, Taggart, that you don’t know what you’re dealing with yet.”
Cal felt the anger in him howl for release, but managed to keep his voice flat and quiet. “I know what you’re doing, McLeod. This isn’t about a single animal that may or may not have gone down with anthrax. This is about opportunity, plain and simple. You want my land and you’re not too particular about how you get it. Isn’t that right?”
Cal stood his ground as Harvey thrust his now florid face closer. “This is about business, Taggart. I can’t afford to be tainted by this.”
“Bullshit!” Cal stood toe to toe with Harvey. “An episode like this wouldn’t even put a crimp in your business. How many head you slaughter a day over there now? A thousand?”
“Not as many as I’ll be butchering when your herd falls to me at auction. When the bank forecloses on this circus, I’ll—”
Without thought, Cal shot a hand out like a striking rattlesnake to grab Harvey’s shirtfront. “That’s it, McLeod.” He yanked the taller man close. “Get the hell off my land and stay off. You’re not welcome here.” He released Harvey with a shove that sent him staggering. “Go on! Git!”
Harvey stumbled a few steps, then recovered his balance, tugged his twisted shirt back down.
Marlena rushed to Harvey, laying hands on him as though to steady him, but he shook her off.
“Enjoy it while you can,” he spat, throwing the paper in the dust. “The tables’ll be turned soon enough, and it’ll be me kicking your skinny ass off my land.”
With that, he stormed over to his truck. Marlena hurried after him, but he shut the door on her. Starting the truck, he reversed it in a hail of gravel and sped off down the long driveway to the road.
Beside him, Lauren let out a shaky breath as they watched the truck disappear in a trail of dust.
“Well, that went well, don’t you think?” she said.
Cal’s laugh came out as a hollow bark. “Oh, yeah, real well.” He turned back toward his group of guests, many of whom looked shell-shocked. Some met his gaze with frank concern, but other gazes slid away. The sliders he knew would check out immediately; the others, he might be able to keep.
He took a deep breath. “Okay, here’s the situation. We did have a steer die forty-eight hours ago, way over yonder, past that ridge you can see in the distance.” Heads swiveled to contemplate the horizon toward which he pointed. “Like I told Mr. McLeod, we don’t have a diagnosis yet to say yea or nay whether it’s anthrax. No more cattle have died, though, and that’s a real good sign. We expect to hear for sure within the next twelve hours, but if you prefer not to stay under the circumstances, your money will be refunded.”
Dr. Rinehart, the physician who’d checked Cal over earlier, stepped forward. “For what it’s worth, I’ve never seen or even heard of a case of anthrax in my whole career. I suspect he’s right that it’s not a big risk for us.”
The investment broker cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Doc, but you’re from back east, right? Couldn’t it be that anthrax is just not endemic there like it is here?”
The doctor rubbed his chin. “I honestly don’t know, Neil. You could be right,” he conceded, giving Cal a shrug and a look as though to say I tried.
Another man spoke from Cal’s left. “Well, we’ll be leaving.” He shrugged apologetically. “I’ve got a family to think about. We can’t stay with this thing looming.” Dale Travers, a lawyer, Cal recalled with a sinking sensation.
He scanned the group, saw the way other parents exchanged worried glances.
Cal nodded curtly, then turned to Jim. “Would you explain the situation to Delia? Tell her to refund Mr. Travers’s money and anyone else’s who wants to leave.” Jamming his hat down on his head, he strode toward the corral. “Spider, Brady,” he called. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
CHAPTER TEN
A man’s back could say so much.
Lauren’s throat ached as she watched Cal. She’d seen the stiffness creep into that spot between his shoulder blades, noted the way he pulled his shoulders back as the audience dwindled to four spectators—Dr. Rinehart, his wife, Marlena, and Lauren. Well, five if you counted Brady, but he was clear around the other side of the corral with Seth and the other cowhands.
Cal backed his horse behind the barrier for the last run, and the chestnut danced skittishly. Lauren could practically feel the normally steady mare’s agitation, which no doubt sprang from Cal’s own anxiety. This time Spider was heading and Cal was heeling. When the steer was released, Spider broke after it, roping it neatly around both horns. Cal’s rope snaked out, but snagged only one of the animal’s back hoofs. Sienna danced backward to pull the rope taut and the steer went down, but it wasn’t clean. Cal looked grim as Jim announced the time into the PA, complete with a five-second penalty for failing to rope both back feet.
“That’s our show, folks,” Jim said. “Thanks for watching.”
As the men cleared the steers out, Marlena turned abruptly and headed to the house. Lauren didn’t know whether or not to be grateful that there’d be no confrontation between Marlena and Brady tonight, at least not in public. If it were public, she might be better able to gauge Brady’s emotion. On the other hand, Cal didn’t need another scene on top of everything else.
Lauren glanced at the horizon. At least she could relax on one score. Nothing was going to happen to Marlena tonight—the sun was already sinking, staining the sky a deep magenta.
From the corner of her eye, she caught a movement and turned toward it. Cal. Shoving his stiff new gloves into his pocket, he strode toward her. Her lungs felt overfull as she watched him, yet her chest grew tight. If she hadn’t already admitted to herself that she loved him, she’d have known it in this moment. Because that’s what it was to love—to feel their pain like your pain.
Cal stopped in front of them and removed his hat, exposing that close-cut hair that stood up in a most uncowboylike way. “Thanks for staying, Doc, Mrs. Rinehart.”
“Don’t take any of this personally.” Dr. Rinehart clapped a hand on Cal’s back, and Cal tensed. “I’ve seen it before. One case of meningitis and folks won’t let their kids go to school. Gut-level fear like that is hard to combat with mere reason.”
“I understand.” Cal shrugged out from under the doctor’s sympathetic arm. “And I appreciate your staying. I really do. In fact, tonight’s on me.”
The older man looked surprised and a little taken aback at the suggestion. “We couldn’t. You just lost all your guests—”
“I insist,” Cal said, clamping his hat to his hip. “As a thank-you for your efforts to educate the others.”
“But—”
“Really.” He ground his hat against his hip. “I insist.”
Lauren could read the signs even if Dr. Rinehart couldn’t. “I think this is one argument you’re destined to lose, Dr. Rinehart. Why not just say ‘Thank you, Cal’ and make him happy?”
“Okay. Thanks, Cal.” Dr. Rinehart shifted uncertainl
y, and his wife looked even more uncomfortable. “Er, well, think we’ll head back to the cabin now. I think there’s a ball game on.”
“What’d you do that for?” she asked when the Rineharts were out of earshot. “That’s revenue you can ill afford to pass up.”
Ignoring her comment, he lifted his right hand and dragged a thumb across his eyebrow from the inner edge to the temple. The gesture, so familiar now, caught at her heart.
“See how I blew that last steer? Greenhorn mistake.” He dropped his arm to his side. “Fitting end to the side show, eh?”
“I’m so sorry, Cal.”
Nervously she twisted the newspaper she’d rescued from the dirt. The motion attracted his attention.
“Let me see that.”
Wordlessly she handed him the paper. He unrolled it, his face hardening as he read Bruce Dysan’s comments. He thrust the paper back at her. “If he wasn’t going to keep his mouth shut, he should have said so. I’d have done things differently.”
“Bruce Dysan didn’t leak the story.”
The tamped-down anger she’d sensed in him flared. “You coulda fooled me. They seem to quote him pretty extensively.”
“I slipped back to my cabin and called him, vet to vet. He says the journalist who phoned him had all the details. In light of what they already knew, he didn’t think it prudent to deny he was investigating a possible case.”
Cal massaged his temple as though to quiet the pulse she could see beating there. He probably had the mother of all headaches. His anger seemed to ebb, leaving him looking bleak. She wanted to pull his head down, pillow it on her breasts.
“Then the leak had to have come from one of my men.”
She met his gaze. “It might have been the backhoe operator, but that seems contrary to his best interest. An outbreak could mean repeat business, but not if he’s feeding the press.”
“One of my guys,” he reiterated dully.
“I’m sorry. I wish I could think—” Suddenly she thought about that moment two days ago, standing by the dead steer with Bruce Dysan while Cal opened the gate for the backhoe. She remembered wondering how a man’s luck could go so bad and asking Dysan to take extra samples…She wished to God the results would come back. If it was anthrax, well, anthrax happened. As that ass-hat lawyer had pointed out, it was endemic here. But if it were something else…She had to tell Cal.