Keeping a Cowboy [Recovery 2] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove)

by Sunny Day

  “What the hell…” He leaned down to inspect them. A familiar scent assaulted his nostrils. Kerosene?

  “You couldn’t stay away, could you?” drawled a lazy voice behind him. Stiffening, Leslie slowly turned to face the speaker. He swallowed heavily when he noticed the gun in the man’s hand.

  “Nash,” he said in what he hoped was a casual voice. “What are you doing here?”

  Nash just smiled at him, cold and calculating. Leslie had seen him in town a couple of times. His family was old money, banking, if Leslie remembered correctly. He was dressed impeccably as always, the brim of his hat shadowing his face. Despite that, Leslie could see the malicious gleam in his eyes.

  He waved the gun at the canisters behind them. “I thought it would be obvious. Then again, you never were that smart, were you? Always wondered what Foster saw in you. You must be good in the sack.”

  Leslie stifled a flare of annoyance. His eyes never leaving the gun, he asked, “What does Ash have to do with this?”

  Nash scowled. “Everything, I’m afraid. If he had only kept out of my business, all this could have been avoided.”

  “Kept out of your business?”

  Nash’s jaw clenched. “I had a project lined up, but needed powerful backers.”

  “You approached the Fosters.”

  “Will Foster agreed, but then Asher saw fit to involve himself. He pulled the plug. Most of the investors did the same, like I didn’t know better than him.”

  In a flash, Leslie remembered Ash pacing his dining room, talking animatedly to the phone. “I don’t care—Tell Nash—” He shivered a little. That was how it started.

  “You were behind my accident, and the attack on Calvin,” he said slowly. “Why? To get revenge on Ash?”

  Nash barked out a laugh. “Of course not. I told you, Will Foster was backing me up. I just needed Ash distracted enough to pull it off.”

  “You figured hurting me would accomplish your goal.”

  “I didn’t plan to. But it just happened I was on the road at the same time. It was easy to push your truck out of the way.”

  Leslie felt sick.

  “You almost killed me.”

  “I wasn’t planning to. I told you, I just needed Asher distracted. Worked like a charm, too. The minute he heard you were hurt, he left the ranch and rushed to the hospital. He was out of town for two weeks. Missed out on his family’s party. I can tell you they weren’t pleased about that. But then he was back. It would all be so much easier if you stayed unconscious for a couple more days. I wouldn’t have to try again, you see.”

  “You broke into my home.”

  “It was pitifully easy. During the day, almost no one is here. Watched for a couple days before making my move. I had no wish to get caught, you see. It was a stroke of luck that you didn’t remember who forced you off the road. I had an alibi prepared just in case.”

  “You were out of luck, because Calvin was there.”

  “The old fool showed up and demanded to know what I was doing. It was quite unexpected. Like you right now. You weren’t supposed to be here, you know.”

  “You wanted to burn my barn.”

  “Figured that would get your attention. And Asher’s, too. Of course, now my plans will have to change.” Nash frowned. “Damn it, what I am supposed to do?”

  “You could go,” Leslie said seriously. “Killing a man is different from what you did up until now. You can hire an expensive lawyer, and I assume they’ll get you off the hook for most of it.”

  “It doesn’t work quite that way. I needed that project to get off. The family money has run out.”

  He licked his lips nervously. “It seems we are at an impasse.” Leslie waited. Both men jerked as the rumbling of an engine came their way.

  “Looks like you have a visit, Kilmer.” Nash smiled without any humor. “Three guesses who it is.”

  The truck was black. Ash.

  A sick feeling rose inside his chest. His eyes burned. Ash, you have the worst sense of timing. You were supposed to be here hours later.

  “Let me talk to him,” he said suddenly. “I can send him away. He doesn’t have to know you were here at all. Just…let him leave.”

  Nash gave him a considering look, then took a step back. And another.

  “Very well,” he said. “But I’ll keep my eye on you. Don’t try to trick me. You’ll regret it.” Numb, Leslie just nodded. Nash disappeared behind the stable, but Leslie could feel his eyes on his back as he slowly moved in Ash’s line of vision.

  “Don’t move too far,” came a menacing order. Leslie froze, not daring to move.

  Ash must have noticed him. The truck came to a stop in front of Leslie.

  Ash pulled the door open. “You are home. I thought you were—”

  “I don’t have time, Asher,” Leslie said. “Whatever it is, can we talk about that later?”

  He saw Ash frown.

  “I was going to—”

  He squeezed his arm, taking a deep breath of Ash’s scent. “Later, Asher. I have to go back, and you are needed on Fourteen F.”

  Ash scrutinized him. “Okay,” he said slowly. He hesitated for a moment.

  “Wait.” Leslie caught his shoulder, and then leaned in to press his mouth to Asher’s. If this was going to be the last time they saw each other, he wanted at least one kiss. Ash’s lips were unmoving under his. Leslie stepped back, swallowing heavily. “Bye, Asher.”

  Ash gave him a quizzical glance, then shook his head and put the truck into the gear. Within moments, it was kicking dust on its way to Fourteen F. Heart in his throat, Leslie stared after him.

  “Touching,” a mocking voice reached him. Leslie closed his eyes as he turned to face his tormentor.

  “Are you going to kill me now?” he challenged. With Ash out of danger, it wasn’t like he had anything to lose.

  “I’m afraid that I really have to.”

  Leslie took an instinctive step back. His lungs burned. Nash raised his gun. Leslie stared at the barrel.

  The sharp sound of a shot shook Leslie to the core. He swore he could almost smell the gunpowder. His knees collapsed under him, and he landed heavily on the ground, suddenly unable to breathe. He heard a groan.

  Am I hit? he thought dizzily. It doesn’t hurt.

  His blurry vision cleared enough to see Nash standing in front of him, a clear look of surprise on his face. He still held the gun, but his other hand was on his chest.

  And a rapidly spreading red smear on his shirt and jacket. He choked before falling to the ground. Leslie whipped his head around. Ash stood near the trees surrounding his house. He was lowering the long rifle he held in his arms. Leslie remembered seeing it in the Fourteen F truck. Hysterical laugher bubbled out of his chest. He was still alive. Ash was still alive. And the man who caused him so many problems was now dead.

  Leslie was still in shock two hours later as he related what happened to the sheriff in his office. Ash had called him, after making sure Leslie was all right. Leslie was happy to go with him as suggested. The van had arrived to take care of the body, and Leslie didn’t want to see that.

  “Nash wanted to burn your place?”

  Leslie nodded, massaging his temples fitfully. Ash, who was standing behind him, pressed his hand to Leslie’s shoulder. “Apparently, he was the one behind both my accident and the attack on Calvin. Ash cut short some of his plans. He wanted to distract him.”

  “Jesus,” Grant said. “All this because of money. It’s not like his family doesn’t have it.”

  “They don’t,” Ash said. “I didn’t refuse Nash without reason. I knew he didn’t have enough capital to see the venture to the end.”

  “So he wanted to make trouble for Leslie, to make sure you were out of the way.”

  “He was going to kill me,” Leslie whispered. “I returned home earlier, and he was going to kill me because I saw him. He threatened to kill Ash.”

  Grant threw a curious glance at Ash. “How did y
ou know something was wrong?”

  “I didn’t expect Leslie to be home, that’s true, but I have a key to his place. There would be no reason for him to tell me to leave. And he called me Asher. Each time.”

  “That’s your name.” Grant looked puzzled.

  “I never call him that,” Leslie said. “Well, almost never. He was always only Ash to me.”

  “It was still very close,” Grant confessed.

  “Is Ash going to be in trouble because of this?” Leslie asked, leaning forward in his seat.

  “I don’t think so. Nash still had a gun in his hand when he was shot. Added to that, my men picked up the kerosene. It won’t be any problem to prove it was self-defense.”

  “Good,” Leslie said, totally exhausted. “Good, that’s—” his voice broke. “I don’t want to have a day like this ever again.”

  He reached behind him to pull Ash closer then wrapped an arm around his waist. They were in Grant’s office in town, and he could hear the buzz of people talking. For once he didn’t care who could see them or what they were going to make of this. Ash squeezed his shoulder. “Neither do I,” he said softly. “Neither do I.”

  Leslie sighed, snuggling deeper into the pillows. He’d settled into his favorite place, the bay widow in the living room in his house, and was looking quietly at the stars filling the night sky. If he stared at them long enough, he could almost imagine the scent of the grass, the moonlight spilling on the stone, and Ash’s warmth seeping into him from where he lay next to him, their horses waiting on them in their secret place. He turned his head to look at the room. There were almost no signs of the mess Nash left. He was dead. Calvin was released from the hospital, but he would stay with his daughter while he recovered completely. Leslie knew that fact alone would help him tremendously. He’d been to see him two days ago. In the meantime, Ash had dragged him on a trip out of town to buy furniture to replace what got damaged. He’d also, in his typical fashion, used the opportunity to make some other changes. Leslie swung his legs down and glanced toward the dining room.

  “Ash?” he called. He stood up and walked over, leaning on the back of new, butter-soft leather couch. From there, he could see a new, smaller table that now took residence in the living room. It could seat four people, but they’d bought only two chairs. Warmth spilled inside him at the sight, the same as the first time he saw it in the store. He couldn’t explain it. There was something strangely intimate in the arrangement. Table for two. For him and Ash. The space next to the wall now a housed cherrywood desk. Ash had brought this over from Fourteen F. It was a long desk, complete with a leather-upholstered chair Ash now lounged in. He’d explained to Leslie that while there were some things he had to do on Fourteen F, there were other tasks he could do from home. He’d said it casually. Leslie wasn’t fooled. Ash never did anything casually. The first evening Ash had spent behind the desk in Leslie’s home, Leslie had spent sitting on the couch and staring at him until Ash noticed and dragged him to the bedroom. Like the table and the desk, the home office told its own story. This may be Leslie’s house, but it was Ash’s home, too.

  “What are you doing?” Leslie asked curiously. Ash glanced at him, hesitated, then appeared to come to a decision.

  “Come see.”

  His interest piqued, and Leslie went over to the desk. He leaned over Ash’s shoulder, noticing a bundle of official-looking papers in front of Ash. His fingers brushed Ash’s shoulder. He’d come so close to losing this.

  His heartbeat stopped as he thought he recognized the form. He hesitated before flipping through pages. He still remembered the argument he and Ash had about this. He wondered why Ash was bringing it up again.

  “It’s not what you think,” Ash said, recognizing his hesitation. “It is, but not…look.”

  The papers were the same, Leslie realized, but the signature at the end was Ash’s. He traced the lines of Ash’s elegant handwriting. “You made me your power of attorney?”

  “Yes. I did that earlier. I didn’t tell you because…we got into a fight. I just thought, it’ll be better if you knew.”

  “I see.” Leslie wasn’t sure what to think of this.

  Ash laughed, catching a belt hoop on Leslie’s jeans and tugging him closer. “I don’t expect you to reciprocate, Leslie.”

  “I should.”

  “No. I want you to be comfortable with doing it. I’m not going anywhere. I can wait, Leslie. Remember what you told me about the Fourth of July celebration? How I was using myself as a bribe?” He sobered abruptly. “It’s the same thing. I want you to want it.” He pushed the papers out of the way. “Look at the rest of it.” He stood up and went to the kitchen. Leslie heard the cabinet door open and close and looked at the papers in his hand. A jolt went through him. Last will and testament. He couldn’t suppress a shiver. He still had nightmares about what happened with Nash. Sometimes the panic would overwhelm him, out of the blue, and he could only calm down after he saw Ash. His heart constricted, but he kept reading through it, knowing Ash would insist on it. He blinked as the meaning of the fancy words sank in.

  “Ash?” he said, turning to face his lover. Ash was leaning on the kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in his hand. He raised his head as he recognized alarm in Leslie’s words.

  “What is it?”

  “You wrote this after we broke up?”

  Ash blinked at him. He set the cup on the counter and braced with both arms on it. “Of everything that’s there, that’s the fact you focus on?”

  “Don’t play with me, Ash. You break up with me and then make a will in which you leave me everything? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  Blue eyes, filled with naked longing, found his. They were suspiciously bright. “I didn’t leave you because I didn’t love you, Leslie.”

  “I know.” They were both aware most of their neighbors wouldn’t look at their relationship favorably, the limits society put on it. He’d always figured that was the reason Ash broke up with him. Leslie couldn’t quite blame him for that. He’d kept quiet about his preferences the whole time he was in the rodeo circuit. “Only you, Ash. Only you would do something like that.” Leslie sat heavily in Ash’s chair. He raised his head when Ash touched his knee.

  “I actually had a reason why I was showing you this,” Ash said softly.

  “Which would be?”

  “It’s as close as it could be without us getting actually married.”

  Leslie stared at him. “We can’t get married, Ash.”

  “No,” his lover agreed. “But if we could, you know I’d want to, right?”

  Instead of answering, Leslie pulled him in his lap. “I know. It’s good to hear. We don’t talk…much, but I was in this for a long haul from the beginning. There was never anyone else.”

  There was never anyone, or despite the love he felt for Midnight Stars, anything else. He had what he wanted with Ash.

  “I’m freezing,” Leslie muttered, stuffing his fists into his pockets. He glared at Ash, who appeared amused. “If this was your idea of a honeymoon, couldn’t we have waited until spring?”

  “I notice you have no complaints on the spot I picked.”

  Leslie blinked at him. “No. Why would I?”

  Ash snorted. He was bundled into a jacket similar to Leslie’s and moved briskly as he set up a small tent. The horses were tied to a tree behind them, their breath leaving small clouds in the cold air. Leslie glanced at their surroundings. It was autumn, the colors of rust and gold covering the hills and valleys around them. Above them, the sun was setting in a blaze of color, the reds and yellow seeping into the ground, heaven and earth mirroring each other. Leslie sat on the stone outcropping. He remembered one other evening, almost eleven years before.

  He was excited, filled with hopes and dreams. He had gone with his uncle to a ranch in Minnesota, which was holding a small rodeo event. His uncle was raising and selling bulls. It wasn’t the first time he dealt with this guy, Rick Evans. During the dinner, Evans ha
d asked Leslie curiously if he ever entered a competition. He was a sponsor to this one, and there was a relatively big sum of money involved. The thought of competing in a rodeo never even crossed Leslie’s mind. However, that time he accepted. He still wasn’t sure why. He’d sensed a change in Ash lately, but his lover wasn’t talking, and maybe that made him reckless. He’d been thinking of his future increasingly of late. His uncle wasn’t going to kick him off the Midnight Stars, but Leslie didn’t want to stay where he wasn’t wanted, not if he had a choice. He’d had no problems with the idea of finding a job somewhere else, but leaving town also meant leaving Ash. Ash couldn’t just walk away from Fourteen F, and Leslie knew even then that he couldn’t walk away from Ash. Whatever the reasons, he accepted. He hadn’t won, but the prize money he got was still more than a decent bundle. The morning after, after he tucked the bills into his wallet, it occurred to him that this may be the solution to his problems. If he had enough money, he could buy a place close to Fourteen F. A small place, but he didn’t need much. By the time he returned to Midnight Stars, he was bubbling with plans and happiness. He was so immersed in his story as he related it to Ash that he missed the tightening of his lips and dangerous glint in his eyes.

  “What do you think?” he asked, pausing to take a breath.

  “I think that’s the worst idea I ever heard.”

  Jarred out of his pleasant fantasies, Leslie boggled at him. For the first time he realized that Ash hadn’t said anything while he talked. His face was closed, and his hands were balled into fists.

  “What?” he said, reaching for Ash, but he shied back. “What possessed you to do it? You always told me riding bulls was a great way to end up in the hospital.” Leslie winced. He remembered saying that.

  “Some guys do it for years,” he reasoned. “I don’t plan on getting hurt. I know it’s possible. Still, I think the risk is acceptable.”