Best of Cowboys Bundle

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Barbara White Daille, Judy Christenberry, Christine Wenger, Shirley Rogers, Crystal Green, Nina Bruhns, Candance Schuler, Carole Mortimer

  “I have no intention of selling Irish Heaven,” she said indignantly, and got to her feet. “And if you—”

  “Hold on to your horses, there, doll. Just relax. I’m not suggesting you should. In fact, I think you’d be crazy if you did sell it.”

  Reluctantly she sat down again. “Sorry. I’m a little sensitive about the subject. Redhawk—” She stopped and shook her head.

  “He what? Doesn’t trust you?”

  “Of course he trusts me, it’s just—” She laughed and took a sip of beer. “Never mind. He’s just worried about the rustling. I am, too.”

  He reached for her hands across the table and took them in his. “Rhiannon, I want you to know you can come to me, if you need help. With anything. Anything at all.”

  “Thanks, Burt. I appreciate that,” she said, subtly attempting to extract her hands from his, but he held tight.

  “I mean it, sweetheart. I know you’re hurting for money now that you’re not working at Jake’s, and, well, I have a bit put away. Anytime, Rhiannon. Just give me the word.”

  “Burt, I’m not—”

  Suddenly the back door swung open, and Redhawk strode in, duster flying, carrying his rifle under his arm. He halted in his tracks.

  His gaze latched on to their hands, still joined over the table, and anger flashed from every pore. “Well, isn’t this cozy,” he said, his voice low but seething with hostility.

  “Hawk!” She yanked on her hands, but only succeeded in freeing one.

  The other, Burt brought to his lips before releasing. “The offer’s always open, sweetheart.” Then he turned to Hawk. “Evening, Jackson,” he said, and rose to his feet with a false smile. “Thought you were out babysitting bovines.”

  Hawk’s eyes narrowed. “How did you know that?”

  Burt shrugged. “Stands to reason. Everyone figures the rustlers will show up again sooner or later. Besides, the sheriff is having a cruiser drive by a few times each night.”

  Rhiannon’s eyes widened. “You’ve been spying on us?”

  “Police surveillance,” Burt corrected. “For an ongoing investigation.”

  “Why weren’t we notified?” Hawk demanded.

  Burt leveled him a flat gaze. “We generally don’t inform suspects of our movements.” At Rhiannon’s gasp, he added. “Don’t worry, we’ve ruled you out, since you weren’t in the country when the rustling started.”

  “How convenient,” Hawk muttered acerbically.

  She stared at him, hurt cascading through her at his cutting remark.

  “Nice boyfriend,” Burton said, picking up his hat from the table. “You’re right not to trust him.”

  “Get out of my house,” Hawk growled. The muzzle of his rifle raised slightly. “Now.”

  Burt’s brows flicked. “Your house?” He gave Rhiannon a pointed look. “Remember what I said, doll. Anytime.” To Hawk he said, “Next time you threaten an officer of the law I’ll have you arrested.” Then he walked out the back door with a slam.

  Neither she nor Hawk moved for a long moment.

  “Did you invite him over?” he finally asked.

  For the first time in her life she felt like slapping a man. Hard.

  Instead of answering, she went to the sink and washed her hands, scrubbing them thoroughly. What she really wanted was to take a shower. After she smacked Hawk silly.

  Gathering as much calm as she could muster, she leaned back against the counter and asked, “Could he be doing the rustling?”

  It was Hawk’s turn to stare. “Grant? What makes you think—”

  “Nothing. I’m probably just being paranoid.”

  He snorted, setting aside his rifle. “Please. The man can’t even ride a horse.”

  “Really?”

  “His father was a deputy, probably his grandfather before that.”

  “Then why does he want the ranch?”

  “What makes you think he does?”

  “Why else would he come here offering help?”

  Hawk crossed the room in two strides and grasped her behind the neck, fingers digging into her flesh. “The good deputy wants you, Rhiannon. Any fool can see that.”

  She gazed up at the hard, angry face of her lover. “And I only want you, Hawk. Any fool can see that.”

  After a second his eyes softened, along with his grip. He took a deep breath. “He was touching you. If he ever touches you again, I swear I’ll kill him.”

  She slid her arms under his duster and around his waist. “He won’t. It was a mistake to let him in. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise. Thank goodness you came home. What made you change your mind about going out?”

  “I saw headlights. Got worried.”

  She tightened her hold. “Stay,” she whispered. “Please stay with me. I hate it when you’re gone.”

  Silently he held her close, the firm, steady beat of his heart pounding in rhythm with hers. He pushed his fingers into her hair and caressed her. She could feel his indecision, heard it in the short, jetted breath he let out.

  “I don’t want to go,” he said at last. “But I have to.” After a long kiss, he set her away. “Lock the doors. All of them. And don’t let anyone in. I don’t care who it is.”

  She nodded and stuck her hands under her armpits so he wouldn’t see them shaking. “Be safe,” she said, and again he was gone.

  Redhawk galloped Tonopah to the top of the plateau overlooking the ranch road and watched Burton Grant’s taillights bump along to the highway, turn and disappear toward town.

  He didn’t trust the bastard. Not within ten miles of Rhiannon.

  But could he be involved in the rustling as she had suggested?

  He mulled it over as he made for the canyons. Naw. Fitz didn’t like Grant, but that was about something long ago having to do with Grant’s dad. As far as Hawk could tell, the son had always been on the up and up. Other than having eyes for his woman.

  Come to think of it, Jeremy Lloyd—Hawk’s other main rustler suspect—also had roving eyes. Jeremy had asked Rhiannon out numerous times after their one dinner date, even when she kept turning him down.

  Hawk tipped his head back and gazed up at the glittering swath of stars overhead. He needed heavenly inspiration to clear his mind.

  What was he missing? Rhiannon couldn’t be the reason all this was happening. It had started long before her arrival. He was just being a jealous lover.

  There had to be something else about Irish Heaven that was attracting the rustlers.

  But what?

  He thought about it for the rest of the night as he sat bundled in his sleeping bag, rifle propped next to him, keeping watch over his tiny remaining herd. And realized he didn’t know nearly enough about the history of Fitz and Irish Heaven.

  That’s where the key must lie. Somewhere in the past.

  At least he hoped like hell it did. Otherwise, as clever as these guys were, if it was all random, he might never be able to figure out this thing and stop them.

  He waited until an hour after dawn, then hoisted himself onto Tonopah and made for home. Sunrise had been spectacular, yellow and orange and violet blues blazing over the bright red sandstone cliffs. Now the birds and animals were out searching for food and greeting the new day with cheerful abandon. The desert air was crisp and clear as he rode, and he could practically smell the bacon Rhiannon would be frying up as he walked in the door.

  But when he rode up to the ranch, the hairs rose on the back of his neck.

  Lucky Charm lay dead in his pen.

  The bull’s thick throat was slit ear to ear and its once-powerful body pierced by a dozen cuts, now inert and surrounded by a frozen pool of blood.

  Hawk found Rhiannon cowering in the hall closet.

  “Baby!” he exclaimed, relief avalanching over him at seeing her safe. But it immediately turned to panic as she launched into his arms with a frightened cry.

  “Oh, Hawk!”


  “Darlin’, are you all right? Did someone hurt you?” he demanded.

  “No,” came her muffled reply from the layers of his coat where she’d buried her face after bringing him to his knees. “We’re fine. They didn’t come in the house.”

  “Who?” he said, fury whipping through his blood, sped by the thundering of his heart. “Who was here?”

  “I didn’t see them. Only heard them. With Lucky Charm.” She broke down. “Oh, God, it was awful.”

  He set his teeth to keep them from chattering with the force of his wrath. He literally vibrated with anger. “Did you call the cops?”

  “The phone wouldn’t work.”

  “All right. Shhh,” he soothed, battling to stay calm himself. Wanting to find someone—anyone—and make them pay. “I’m here now. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”

  She gave a little mewl and clung to him tighter.

  “Baby, we need to get you out of this closet.” Apart from anything else, his knee was burning like hell and he thought he might have sprung the stitches in his arm firing himself off Tonopah like a rocket and practically tearing the screen off its hinges in his haste to get the back door unlocked. Somewhere along the line he’d lost his arm sling. “Come on, now, help me up.”

  Mention of him needing help rallied her. She lifted her head and looked at him. The expression on her face made his heart break in a million pieces. So anxious and vulnerable. Yet she swallowed her fear and gave him a brave if quivery smile.

  “Sorry I’m being such a ninny.”

  “Don’t even think it. Let’s get out of here and make sure Fitz didn’t wake up in all the commotion.”

  They helped each other up from the closet floor, peeked in to check on Fitz, then went to the kitchen.

  “I’ll make some tea,” she said, and he felt marginally better. If she was already making tea, she was coming around.

  “No, I’ll make it,” he said, taking the kettle from her. He, on the other hand, needed to do something or he’d start smashing things. “You sit and tell me exactly what happened.”

  She folded her hands in her lap and stared at them while he filled the kettle, then tossed aside his duster and jacket. When he sat next to her and covered her hands with his, she started talking.

  “It was in the middle of the night, maybe two or three o’clock, when I heard something stirring up the animals in the barn. I thought it was you coming back, and I looked out the bedroom window. But there were two horses tied to the fence. So I knew it couldn’t be you.”

  She stopped to swallow. He felt the muscle below his eye tick madly. “Go on.”

  “Lucky Charm’s stall door opened and a man stuck his head out. He looked up at the bedroom window, right at me.” Her voice caught.

  “Did he see you?” he asked, keeping his tone carefully even. He didn’t want her to know how close he was to losing it.

  “I don’t know. It was dark and I jerked back behind the wall, but—” she lifted her shoulders “—I don’t know.”

  “What happened then?”

  “I ran downstairs to call the police, but the phone wouldn’t work. I dialed and dialed, but it was dead.” She put her hand over her mouth. “And all the while I could hear how they—Oh, how the poor thing bellowed!”

  She choked on the words and he hauled her into his arms, ignoring the pain that sliced through his injury. “I’ll kill them,” he muttered in outrage. “I’ll hunt them down and kill them slowly for putting you through this.”

  Her breath hitched. “No. I’m fine. Really. Let the sheriff find them and put them in jail. I don’t want you hurt again.”

  “Did they do anything else? Anything at all?”

  “I’m not sure. When the phone didn’t work, I ran and hid. I’m sorry.”

  “Hush, now. You did exactly the right thing. Here, drink your tea.”

  He managed to get her to sip the soothing brew. He needed to get out to the barn. He was deathly afraid of what else he might find. If they’d hurt the other horses, he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions. But he had to know.

  “I need to take care of Tonopah,” he told her. “And check the other animals.”

  “No!” She jumped up from her chair, crashing it onto the floor behind her. “Don’t leave us alone. Please!”

  He held her when she pressed into him. “Just to the barn. You and Fitz will be fine. You can watch me from the window, okay? If I don’t tend to Tonopah, he’ll catch cold. He’s all lathered up.”

  She drew away reluctantly. “You’re right. I’m sorry I’m being such a coward. It’s just…it all reminds me of when I was a child in Belfast and the British would harass us after my father—”

  She stopped, and he could see her visibly pull herself together. “But that’s all in the past. You go now. I’ll be all right.”

  He hesitated a moment, astonished at how she was able to shake herself out of her inner terrors. The woman was amazing. If only he could do the same thing with his anger.

  “Are you sure?”

  Her spine straightened. “Positive.”

  Fetching his rifle, he pressed it into her hands. “Watch me from the window. If anything but me moves, shoot it.”

  Her mouth gaped. He knew she’d never held a weapon before in her life. He also knew if she tried to shoot anything, he’d better duck quick. But that wasn’t the point. The point was empowerment.

  A lone tear trembled on the edge of her lashes when she looked up at him. With his thumb he wiped it away. Then strode out the door to see just how bad these bastards were.

  He almost fell over from relief when he found Jasper and Crimson nervous but unharmed in their stalls. He rubbed down Tonopah and gave them all an extra ration of oats, opened the Dutch doors to let in the sunshine, and ignored their protests when he left them confined instead of leading them out to their corral.

  “Sorry, guys. Don’t want to mess with the crime scene,” he muttered, giving them each an ear rub.

  He deliberately avoided going anywhere near Lucky Charm. He didn’t have the heart. He’d leave that to the cops.

  “I have to drive to a phone and call this in,” he said to Rhiannon when he was back in the kitchen, after giving her the relative good news.

  She gnawed on her lip as she nodded. “Take us with you. I don’t want to stay here by ourselves.”

  “Yeah.” He wasn’t about to leave them, anyway.

  “Can we wait until Fitz wakes up? I’d really like to lie down for a bit,” she said apologetically. “I’m still shaking.”

  “Of course.”

  They went upstairs and he tucked her into bed, showered and slid in next to her. Immediately she snuggled up close, wrapping her shivering body in his willing embrace.

  He was still livid with rage over what had been done to them…to her. Because whoever did this had known damn well she’d been alone on the ranch with a helpless old man when they’d struck. They’d deliberately terrified her.

  Why?

  The only explanation he could come up with was, they also knew she was the conservator for her uncle, and therefore responsible for all his financial decisions—including selling the ranch. “You can’t let them intimidate you into selling,” he murmured.

  “I know,” she answered, shocking him that he’d spoken the words out loud. “I won’t.”

  He gathered her precious body tight to his chest, suddenly vividly cognizant of what might have happened….

  If any harm came to her, ever, he didn’t know what he’d do.

  Actually, he did. He thought of his cousin sitting in prison on an eight-to-fifteen attempted-murder charge, and for the first time understood what the man must have gone through. Someone had hurt his sister. He’d gone after the guy. Hawk knew he would have done exactly the same thing himself. There were just some things a man couldn’t tolerate others messing with.

  For Hawk, it was his ranch and the people he considered family.

  That’s when cold reality hit him. Th
e way things sat, he couldn’t protect them both.

  He’d have to choose.

  The herd and the solvency of the ranch…or the safety of those he loved.

  He couldn’t do both.

  If he was with the herd, they could get to his family. If he was with Fitz and Rhiannon, they could destroy the herd.

  Hell and damnation.

  He tried to figure a way out of it. So he could be in two places at once. But there was no way he’d bring Fitz and Rhiannon with him up into the canyons at night. And there was not a chance in hell he’d ever leave them alone on the ranch at night again. That was plain old not happening.

  Not until these sickos were behind bars.

  But how could he catch them if he couldn’t be out hunting them?

  The whole thing was impossible. He felt as frustrated and helpless as a roped and trussed rodeo calf.

  “We’ll have to bring the cattle down from the canyons,” she said, as though reading his mind. “It’s the only way.”

  “Can’t,” he said. He’d already considered that. “They’re more sheltered against the cold up there. Besides, there’s not enough grass to feed them down here.”

  “We could buy hay and feed, same as you do now. Just more.”

  “With what?”

  “Hawk, does the ranch owe anyone any money?”

  “Hell, no. We’ve always dealt in cash only.”

  “Maybe it’s time we made an exception.”

  “That’s a slippery slope, Rhiannon. Half the farms in the Midwest went under because they started thinking that way.”

  She was silent for a moment. “Would you rather sell the cattle in the spring and pay off an honest debt to the feed store, or let the rustlers just take the herd without a fight?”

  He dipped his head and looked at her. He couldn’t believe she was showing this much spunk after what she’d just gone through. Amazing didn’t come close.

  “You up for a fight?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes,” she said, meeting his gaze. The green of her eyes flashed like emeralds.

  “It could get ugly.”

  Her brows hiked.

  “Right.” Okay, so it was already as ugly as he dared imagine. These men had to be stopped before it got even worse. “We’ll report the attack and buy feed this afternoon.”