Camouflage Cowboy

by Jan Hambright

  Nolan’s gaze locked with Nick’s and a measure of understanding passed between them.

  Something was wrong.

  Nolan’s former life had been in D.C., and Nick wasn’t sure exactly what kind of ghosts still resided there, but something was haunting Nolan Law.

  “Thank you, Cavanaugh. Gentlemen, you’re dismissed.” Nolan scooped up the file and left the room.

  Nick wasn’t far behind him, suddenly anxious to see Grace and Caleb. Thank goodness he didn’t have long to wait: as he stepped out of the conference room and walked to the seating area in front of Amelia’s desk, he saw them waiting for him. He paused for a moment, watching as Grace read a storybook to her son, who sat on her lap leaning his head against her shoulder.

  His heart twisted in his chest. He had to do something to save Caleb. Walk through fire, chew glass, speak to Governor Lockhart again?

  Grace glanced up, her blue-eyed gaze focused on him alone. She smiled; he smiled back and moved toward them.

  “Finished?” she asked, closing the book.

  “Yeah.”

  Caleb climbed down off his mother’s lap and without hesitation bolted forward with a broad grin on his face.

  “Mister Nick!” he yelled, hopping at the last possible second for Nick to snag him and swing him up into his arms.

  “Hey, buddy, ya ready to go?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How about we go on a picnic this afternoon? Get some fresh air and sunshine?”

  Caleb nodded. “Eat Goldfish?”

  “Goldfish?”

  “It’s a cracker, Nick. Shaped like a fish,” Grace clarified, smiling up at them both.

  “I love them,” Caleb said as he let his cheek rest against Nick’s shoulder.

  He was beginning to love something, too, but it wasn’t Goldfish.

  NICK TIGHTENED THE CINCH on Jericho, then checked the leather bags he’d secured to the back of the saddle. The satchels were loaded with a picnic lunch consisting of PB and J sandwiches Caleb had proudly helped his mother slap together, apple juice boxes and a bag of Goldfish crackers, all delectable foods to a four-year-old, or so he’d been told in the grocery-store aisle.

  He’d eat dirt if it meant getting to enjoy the afternoon with Grace and Caleb.

  Skirting the back of his horse, he helped her pull the cinch tight on Tulip, a gentle quarter-horse mare in a beautiful shade of chestnut. “She won’t give you any trouble. She’s kid gentle.” He gazed down at her as he lowered the stirrup from off the saddle horn. “Do you know how to ride?”

  “I was born in Texas, wasn’t I?”

  He grinned. “Well, take it easy on me, then, will ya?”

  “Never.” Her smile faded slowly as she stared up at him, and he resisted the overwhelming urge to kiss her on the spot, to feel her willing body respond to his on a level he’d never experienced before last night.

  Glancing away, he looked at Caleb where he stood next to the corral, leaning on the second rung, wearing the pair of new cowboy boots they’d picked up after their trip to the grocery store. “He looks pretty beat this afternoon.”

  Grace followed his line of sight and he saw her features turn down. “I’m going to take him into Holy Cross tomorrow morning. His energy level is dropping faster than it ever has before. Something’s up with his blood-cell counts.”

  “We’ll take it easy. Ride out onto the lower twenty and picnic under a scrub oak.”

  She nodded, but the worry lines around her beautiful blue eyes deepened exponentially, setting concern loose inside of him.

  “We don’t have to go today, Grace. We can put it off.”

  “Are you kidding?” She gestured toward Caleb. “He’s been waiting for this all week. Sometimes I think the excitement of this adventure is the only thing keeping his spirit alive.” She swallowed and a glimmer of tears flooded her eyes for an instant, before she blinked them back. “He’s living one day at a time, so today he’s going to live.”

  He reached for her and pulled her against him, feeling her body quake for a moment before she contained her emotions. By the time she stepped away she had a smile on her face.

  “Come on. Let’s go.” She turned and jerked the tie on the reins, releasing them from the hitching post. “It’s a beautiful day. I want to enjoy it.”

  Nick gathered his own tangled thoughts and un tethered Jericho, anxious to channel the growing anger in his gut. He turned the bay toward Caleb and pulled him to a stop, staring down at the little boy who’d captured his heart and soul the first time he’d called him Mister Nick. He knew what he had to do. It wasn’t going to be easy, but he’d do it anyway. He was choosing honor over duty.

  “Ready to cowboy up, Caleb?”

  Caleb grinned and rocked forward off the wooden railing he’d been sitting on. “Can we go fast?”

  “Yeah. Today’s the day you become a real cowboy just like Zachary-G.”

  He let out a whoop and scuffed his new boots in the loose Texas soil, stirring up a trail of dust behind him.

  “Come on, let’s ride.” Nick scooped him up and put him in the saddle, then shoved his booted foot into the stirrup and swung up behind him. He wrapped his left arm around Caleb’s chest to secure him and showed him how to lock his hands around the base of the saddle horn for stability.

  Sometimes courage showed up in the most unexpected places, Nick realized as he turned his horse for the open landscape in front of them; and Caleb Marshall had plenty of it.

  GRACE SQUINTED HER EYES against the afternoon sun filtering through the lacy branches of the scrub oak overhead, and leaned back into Nick’s broad chest.

  A steady breeze stirred in the range grass around them and ruffled Caleb’s hair where he sat on the blanket they’d spread out under the tree, playing quietly with his toy horse.

  Contentment seemed a strange companion at the moment, but that didn’t stop her from succumbing to it. Seeing her son grinning and laughing as Nick had loped his horse along had been therapeutic to them both.

  “A penny for your thoughts,” Nick whispered close to her ear.

  “I haven’t heard that phrase in so long. Where’d you hear it?”

  “My parents used to say it to each other.”

  “It’s sweet, but oblivious to the rising cost of living.”

  A deep chuckle resonated from his chest. “I’ll go a buck.”

  “I was just enjoying this moment of peace. There haven’t been very many of them for us lately.”

  He brushed his hand across the side of her head and worked his fingers into her hair. “Things will get better, Grace. I promise.”

  She closed her eyes to listen to the beat of his heart under her ear, and started when Caleb tapped her on the shoulder a moment later.

  “Mommy. Wake up. I want to ride.”

  Dazed, Grace realized she must have dozed off for a second or two. It was no wonder, considering the amount of time she’d lain awake in Nick’s arms last night.

  Heat erupted on her cheeks as she sucked in a deep breath before leaning forward to stare up at Caleb.

  “Where do you want to go?”

  He turned and pointed to the massive barn several shallow rises away from their location. “I want to see the bats.”

  “There could be bats,” Nick said from behind her, “and owls, and sparrows.”

  “Bats,” Caleb repeated.

  “I’ve been meaning to take a ride down there and have a look around since we saw the flicker of light the other night. May as well be this afternoon. We’re halfway there already.”

  “Are you sure?” Grace asked, turning to look at him, then back at Caleb.

  “If he’s up for it, so am I.” Nick rocked forward onto his knees.

  She studied her son, focusing on the tinge of healthy pink shading in his cheeks. “Then let’s go.”

  Caleb bent down and picked up his bag of Goldfish, reached inside and pulled a couple out, then popped them into his mouth. “Now I’m ready,” he said as
he crunched them up.

  Within a couple of minutes they’d broken down their picnic spot and Nick had everything stuffed into the saddlebags and tied onto the horse again.

  He held on to Tulip’s reins as Grace climbed aboard before he turned and picked Caleb up.

  “You doing okay, bud?”

  “I’m a cowboy now.”

  “Yes, you are. I’ll have you pushing cattle before too long.”

  “Cattle?” Caleb asked, repeating the unfamiliar word.

  “Cows. Moo. Cows.”

  Caleb nodded, understanding the bovine’s call.

  Nick lifted him up and settled him on the horse, then swung up onto the saddle behind him. After making sure Caleb had a good hold on the saddle horn, he turned Jericho and headed out for the old trestle barn, a relic that had been on the property for fifty years or more according to the locals.

  He reined his horse in at an easy walk, enjoying his surroundings, while he contemplated his next move with the governor. He’d thought of little else since he’d made the decision to convince her to help her grandson, regardless of the consequences he could face. No secret was worth keeping if Caleb Marshall lost his life in the process.

  “Does Bart Bellows own this land, as well?” Grace asked from next to him, their horses matching each other stride for stride.

  “Yeah. Bought it for his son. Too bad he never came home from his tour in Iraq.”

  “That’s sad,” Grace said.

  “Yes, it is.” Nick couldn’t keep thoughts of the men he’d lost there from invading his mind. Good soldiers who might still be alive if they hadn’t listened to him. He gritted his teeth and turned his focus on the barn looming in the distance. He’d gained an ounce of peace with his past, thanks to Bart, who’d encouraged him to start over, to forgive himself and to find a path to redemption any way he could.

  And maybe he had. Maybe the child in his arms was the way back.

  Caleb pointed at the barn as they got closer. “It’s giant, Mister Nick. Lots of room for bats.”

  Glancing over, he watched Grace make a face and shiver. “Let’s hope not, Caleb. They carry rabies.”

  “What’s a rabies?”

  “It’s not good, tiger. So if we see any bats flying around in broad daylight we’re out of here. Understand?”

  “Okay.”

  Just to be sure, Nick scanned the sky directly surrounding the barn, satisfied when the only winged creatures were half a dozen sparrows.

  He reined in his horse just shy of the barn’s two story doors and dismounted, then gently lifted Caleb down from the saddle. Caleb took several steps back and craned his neck so he could see the entire face of the structure.

  Nick caught him just before he tipped over. “Easy there.” Concerned, he picked him up and held him in his arms so he could look up at the barn.

  Grace stepped up next to them and touched Nick’s arm. “I should have warned you, his condition can affect his equilibrium at times.”

  He nodded. “I’ll watch him.”

  “Can we go inside?” Caleb asked, beginning to squirm in Nick’s arms. “I wanna go in.”

  “Yeah, but you’ll have to let me look first. Make sure there aren’t any coyotes hiding out in there, or a skunk, or a raccoon.”

  Caleb’s eyes went wild. He stopped fidgeting and stared at the doors with a measure of mistrust on his face.

  “Skunks smell bad.”

  “Yes, they do, so stay with your mom and I’ll have a look.”

  “Okay.” Content to be on the outside for the moment, he didn’t protest when Nick put him into his mother’s open arms and headed for the massive double doors that had been barred with a wooden plank wedged into heavy metal brackets on either side.

  Nick raised one end of the plank, popped it out of its bracket, then pulled the door open several feet and stepped into the cavernous barn.

  Sunlight streamed in through the cracks in the structure’s outer skin, highlighting billions of dust particles riding the shafts of light to the ground.

  All clear—

  A shrill scream sliced the air and brought Nick around.

  “Grace!” he yelled, as a wave of panic drove him through the doorway and outside, where he spotted her stumbling backward from a massive clump of Texas sage less than thirty feet away, clutching Caleb in her arms.

  He bolted toward them. Was something wrong with Caleb? He’d never forgive himself if anything happened to him.

  Nick caught her from behind just before she went down hard, and lowered her to the ground in a sitting position.

  “Grace! What’s going on? Is he okay?”

  Caleb pushed back and stared up at him wild-eyed and confused.

  She nodded, sucking in deep gulps of air. “He needed a place to relieve himself. He said he couldn’t hold it until we got home. I figured the bushes were good, but, Nick, there’s someone in the brush.”

  Caution hissed across his nerves. Had the person who’d trespassed on the ranch several nights ago returned?

  “I’ll check it out.” He came to his feet, reached back with his right hand, flipped the snap on his weapons holster and drew his pistol, glad he’d clipped it on his belt before they left the ranch. You never knew what kind of creatures you might encounter out here, including the two-legged kind with an agenda.

  He moved forward, scanning for movement in the thick patch of Texas sage. Focused on the exact place he’d first spotted Grace and Caleb.

  The impressions of her shoe prints were visible, and he followed them to the edge of the brush.

  Nick came to a full stop and stared down at a familiar print pressed into the soil next to a pair of cowboy boots partially obscured in the tangle of branches and leaves. Careful to avoid the impression, he reached out, gathered a fist full of branches and pulled them back for confirmation.

  “Damn,” he whispered under his breath as he released the brush and holstered his pistol, going instead for the cell phone in his shirt pocket.

  Unfortunately those boots were still on a man’s feet. A man with a bullet hole drilled into his forehead.

  Nick flipped open his phone and dialed 9-1-1.

  Chapter Eleven

  “You were right, Nick. It’s a match to the boot impression we pulled over at the governor’s ranch,” Matteo said, holding out the casting he’d just helped Sheriff Hale’s investigative team pour and lift.

  Nick took it, staring at the distinctive sole pattern of the Marine Corps boot. “Whoever he is, he’s probably the one who killed this guy. Could be our Wes Bradley.”

  Wade joined them and held up a plastic bag with a cell phone in it. “That’s affirmative. Hale’s forensic investigators found this buried in the straw in the barn along with signs that someone has been living inside. When I turned it on, I discovered its contact number matches the one we found on Trevor Lewis’s phone for Wes Bradley.”

  “The kicker,” Nick said, shaking his head in disgust, “is that the guy has been using my ranch house to shower and steal food. I discovered it yesterday, but I should have figured it out sooner.”

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Nick,” Matt said. “It’s out of the norm for something like this to happen. A big, empty house, him in need of a place to hide—and don’t forget, he was careful. Anyone of us could have missed the signs.”

  Harlan made his way over to the circle. “Hale found the guy’s wallet intact, along with his driver’s license. Guy’s name is Joe Sims. He’s a ranch hand at the Y-Bar-J next door. The foreman told Hale Sims went in search of his cow dog Wilson two nights ago. Wilson came home the next morning, but Joe didn’t. He wasn’t too concerned, since Sims had a couple of days off coming. He just figured the kid had taken off, until this morning, when he didn’t show up at the ranch.”

  “He stumbled down here, right on top of our shooter, who couldn’t risk having his hideout discovered, so he popped him and tried to stash his body.” The summation was acidic in Nick’s mouth, and he shook
his head. “It fits. Two nights ago, I saw what looked like a lantern light. It was probably Sims’s.”

  “Yeah,” Wade said. “They found a Coleman lantern in the same area where they found the cell phone.”

  Nick looked up to where Nolan was deep in conversation with Sheriff Hale, no doubt relaying the information they had on Wes Bradley, sketchy as it was.

  He slid his gaze to where Grace and Caleb were safely seated in the backseat of a patrol car, out of the mix of cops and bad news. Thankfully Caleb hadn’t seen Sims’s body hidden in the sagebrush, according to Grace, who’d blocked it from view.

  “It looks like this guy is willing to kill anyone who gets in his way.” Harlan rested his hands on his hips. “So you’ve gotta ask yourself, what’s his next move? Who’s his next target? What’s his endgame?”

  Nick’s chest tightened as he contemplated the answers. “From what we’ve seen so far, he wants to take out the governor.” His sense of duty amped up and he let his gaze lock on the patrol car where Grace and Caleb waited.

  “Granted, she seems to be his number-one target,” Harlan agreed.

  “Hey, I’ve gotta take off, get them home. It’s been a heck of a day, and Caleb’s exhausted. I’ll see you guys later. Let me know if Nolan plans a briefing.” He stepped back and headed for the patrol unit, prepared to have Grace and Caleb driven back to the ranch house while he rode and ponied the other horse home.

  One thing was certain—Lila Lockhart would be no good to Caleb Marshall if she died in an attack.

  GRACE UNZIPPED the upper garment flap on her suitcase, reached in and pulled out the tattered manila envelope from inside. It represented the last barrier to the trust she knew had solidified between her and Nick; her trial transcripts. The events of that horrific night in her own words. Words she’d never bothered to read.

  She took a peek at Caleb where he lay sound asleep in bed, flipped off the light switch and left the door open a crack so she’d hear him in case he woke up and called out for her.

  Clutching the package to her chest, dressed in sweats and a T-shirt, she padded down the hallway barefoot and paused to stare into the living room where Nick sat on the sofa staring into the fireplace. She studied his handsome profile, strong jaw and straight nose. Maybe luck had finally found time to acknowledge her existence.