“Suppose this isn’t related to the cattle rustling. Maybe someone just wanted to pull a prank on you. Besides, as you pointed out, Estrada still has his horses.”
“Deputy Madison, if you really believe that crock of bullshit, I think you should turn in your badge right now.”
A slow grin curled her lips. “Of course I don’t, but someone wanted to get back at you for something.” She held up her hand in a good imitation of a traffic cop, to forestall his retort. “Look. I haven’t forgotten the other rustlings. But you have to admit something about this sinks of rotten eggs.” She pointed to the horses in Estrada’s pasture. “If they weren’t just targeting you, Estrada would be four horses short today.”
“Maybe they didn’t have any room on their trucks. Twenty horses are a lot for two trucks,” he countered. “Or they wanted my thoroughbreds instead.”
She shrugged, and before he could gather enough steam to explode, added, “You weren’t playing Texas Hold ’Em again, were you?”
He glared at his deputy–and friend. Dawn always teased him when they were alone–and when he started to lose perspective, which meant he was starting to act like a jackass.
They had known each other since they were both in diapers. In some ways, she was the sister he’d never had. Her grandmother had worked as a housekeeper for his grandparents until they’d both died. Her grandfather, Chief Madison, had been his grandfather’s unofficial adopted brother and his head foreman for forty years, until he retired. When Zack’s great-grandfather had died, he’d deeded off five thousand acres to him. Dawn’s father, the former sheriff, had raised fine Angus cattle on the grassland, and when a heart attack forced him to quit ranching, he divided the place up among his three children.
Besides their families being close, they had spent years riding the same rodeos together. She’d been a champion barrel racer back then. Her older half-brother, Talon Blackwell, and younger brother, Hunter Madison, still rode the circuit. However, Dawn had lost interest in the rodeo. She’d studied criminal justice at college, and after graduation, gone to the police academy in Austin. She’d wanted to be a cop like her dad, who’d been the first Native American to ever be elected sheriff of Forest County. Dawn made it no secret she’d like to not only be the next Indian to get the job if Zack chose to leave it, but also be the first woman to be elected as well. However, she wouldn’t run against Zack; he was positive of that.
He’d be the first to admit, she was more qualified for the job than he was, and he valued her opinions. She’d worked as a vice cop on the Dallas PD for a while until a drug bust went sour and she’d been shot. Now, she was Zack’s lieutenant.
“I haven’t played poker in years,” he said, going along with the taunt. “But I was called out to break up a fight your granddad started at a high stakes game at O’Donnell’s Bar and Grill a few weeks ago. He swore retribution.”
“If you think Chief had anything to do with this, you should turn in your badge, Sheriff,” she said smugly. Everyone in the community called the old Comanche Chief, including his grandchildren.
The paint curiously watched them from only a few yards away.
Zack laughed and put his hands on his sides above his service belt. “I don’t understand it. Rustlers usually steal either cattle or horses, but seldom do they mix what they take.”
“I’ve noticed something else.” Dawn looked in the direction of the Estradas’ home and barn off in the distance. “Whoever did this must have been watching the Estradas. Otherwise, how would they have known they’d be gone, and Billy, too? As serious as these guys are, I can’t imagine them risking being heard. Driving those horses through that pasture would’ve made some noise.”
He considered what she’d said for a moment. “I’ve also seen a pattern. They’re taking livestock that has only recently been purchased or haven’t been branded.” Damn, he’d had plenty of time in the past month to freeze-brand his horses. He’d simply procrastinated too long, and now, he was branded a fool.
“That’s probably the real reason they didn’t take Estrada’s horses. Or the fortune my cousin and I have grazing over by the cliffs off Gambler’s Folly.” He and Lance had three hundred head of Santa Gertrudis breeding stock in a pasture near the county road bordering the entire front of the ranch. The rustlers could have easily pulled up near the fence, cut it and herded them in. However, those cattle were registered, branded and had been owned by them for over a year.
“Good point. But the cattle taken off Oak Springs weren’t newly purchased.”
“No, but those steers have changed hands. They went from belonging to Leon Ferguson to being jointly owned by Dylan and Charli Quinn under their new brand–Butterfly Springs Cattle Company. It might be to our benefit to stake out some of the locals who have bought livestock within the past six months. Put Kennedy in charge of getting a team together. If they follow their pattern, they won’t strike again until later in the week. And let Herb know what we’ve discovered.”
She acknowledged the order and looked over his neighbor’s pasture. “Have you contacted the Quinns about their cattle yet?”
“No. Tracy and her parents asked me not to, and since they haven’t had any other cattle stolen, I decided to let it ride until they return.”
Dawn frowned and wouldn’t look at him.
“What is it?”
She took a deep breath and met his gaze. “If you get involved with Tracy again, you’re crazy. She ripped you apart.”
“Well, it’s a good thing that’s my damned business, then, isn’t it?” What the hell was wrong with everyone butting into his life? Halfway to his horse, he turned. “Call in the Rangers, Deputy Madison. I want my horses back.” Zack pushed his hat back and swung up into the saddle, gave the big Appaloosa stallion some rein, and took off at a run.
Chapter 11
Zack entered the reception area of Tracy’s salon late Monday morning. At the tinkling of the bell over the door, Tracy’s voice chimed from a room on the right. “I’ll be right there.”
He removed his hat. “Okay.”
Turning around, he looked over the fussy room. Prints of Victorian ladies, most of them seated before mirrors, hung in a grouping on one wall. Gilt framed mirrors hung on another. Frilly curtains dressed the windows. Cabinets held knick-knacks and styling supplies. Even the tops were covered with fake ivy with white Christmas lights strung through it. One of those obnoxious smelling jar candles burned on the edge of the antique desk she used as a reception counter. He wrinkled his nose at the cloying scent.
Damn, the place reminded him an old-time bordello. A scene flashed through his mind of him ambling in like some gun-slinging sheriff of the Wild West. Tracy, dressed in a black and red corset, garter belt and silk stockings, lounged on the old desk. All long legs and wanton invitation. Her hair was done up in big curls and held high on her head, just waiting to be set free to tumble down around her shoulders.
Laughter from the inner room scattered the vision like a bullet to a mirror, leaving Zack grasping for reality.
Shacking off the last shards of the fantasy, he twisted his hat in his hand in front of him, glad he had it. The only place to sit was a fancy couch with big pink roses on the delicate-looking fabric. He sat and heard another voice in the inner room. “Thanks so much, my dear.”
“I’m glad you like it, Mrs. Pratt,” Tracy replied. “And thank you for the contact at the college. I’ll give them a call.”
Zack groaned. Aida Mae Pratt was as notorious a gossip as his aunt. He glanced at the door. Could he sneak out before she knew he was here?
“You do it, dear. That little apartment upstairs would be perfect for college students,” the old widow and boarding house proprietor said. “Well, I’ll be going. I think that was the sheriff I heard out there.”
Too late.
When the women came out of the room, which Zack figured must be where Tracy worked her magic on the hair of the county’s women, he stood and pasted on a smile. Unable
to bear the hopefulness Tracy couldn’t quite mask, he tipped his head to the older woman. Her too-blonde hair was piled high on her head. “Mrs. Pratt, how’re you doing?”
“I’m fine, Sheriff. Thanks for asking. I heard about those rustlers taking your horses.”
Good to see the Grapevine was working just fine. He glanced at Tracy, who was busy ringing up the service on an antique cash register. “Yes, well, the department has it under control.” He looked at Tracy again. “In fact, that’s why I stopped by. I wanted to make sure everything was secure out on Butterfly and Oak Springs.”
He watched the hopeful glint brighten in her eyes. If he was a smart man, he wouldn’t touch her ever again. He’d never used a woman. He’d had his share of flings and one-night stands, but those women hadn’t been looking for hearts and flowers out of the encounters either. It didn’t take a brilliant strategist to determine Tracy was shooting for much more out of this, whatever the hell this was, than he could give her. But just what did she want? The question was like an echo off the limestone cliffs that cut across the eastern edge of Lance’s half of the ranch. Over and over again it kept bouncing back at him.
Tracy finished cashing in Mrs. Pratt’s twenty. “Yes, I think Tom and the boys have everything under control.”
Mrs. Pratt watched them intently enough to make Zack tighten the grip on his hat. “I was tickled pink when Charli and Dylan got together. Amazing how things worked out.”
Zack’s brow shot up, and he cocked a lopsided grin when he noticed the furrowing of Tracy’s brow as she narrowed her eyes on her customer. Aida Mae made it no secret that she disliked Dylan Quinn.
“Well,” Aida went on as she put her change away into one of those fanny packs attached to the leather belt of her tight jeans, “I’ve got to get going and get the noon meal on. Go ahead and schedule me with Melissa for the next time. I always thought Buck got the bastard’s end in his divorce to that gold-digger he married. Glad to see at least one of his girls hasn’t forgotten their daddy in his hour of need.”
“I’m glad you’re giving Melissa a chance. Will one o’clock on Thursday be okay?”
“Yep, works for me.” Smiling broadly, she looked from Zack to Tracy again and waved as she headed out the door. “Y’all have a great afternoon.”
Tracy wrote the appointment in her book and called a farewell. She crossed her arms over her chest, then uncrossed them. After clearing her throat, she asked, “How many horses did they take?”
“Twenty. Those thoroughbred mares I told you about. They drove them over Luis Estrada’s place to get to them to their trucks.”
“I’m so sorry. You were planning on breeding them, weren’t you?” She bit her lower lip and her eyes took on a silvery color.
He nodded, moved around the end of the desk, and tossed the hat on the top beside the register. Her breathing caught and then sped up as he invaded her space.
“Do you have any more customers?”
* * * *
Tracy’s body reacted to the possibility of him coming on to her the moment she’d heard his husky voice. She swallowed hard and shook her head. “I don’t. Melissa will be in at one. I usually take Monday afternoons off to do my books.”
“I was hoping you could keep me company this afternoon.” He skimmed his fingers over her cheek.
Her insides, heating up like lava under the surface of the earth, pooled in her low belly. Her lips parted.
Against her lips, he whispered, “Tracy, I want you.”
She had thought of little else since he’d left her standing on her porch Friday night. He was asking her to enter into a sexual relationship without any hope of a future–without love.
But she was already in love with Zack.
Both of their kids would benefit from them being together. Hadn’t that been what she’d decided while she tossed and turned in her big, empty bed?
With her gaze locked on his, she murmured, “I want you, too, but I have a stipulation.”
He leaned back. “What is it?”
“I’m no one’s fuck-buddy, Zack. I know what my reputation is in this town, but it’s all wrong.” She swallowed her rapidly thumping heart back into place. “I’ll only go through with this, if you promise to treat me as a serious girlfriend. That means we date, we visit with our families and we share our kids.” When his expression hardened, she quickly added, “Mandy likes me. And I adore her. I’d like to bring her here, to the shop, for a few hours and play. And take her shopping. I know your mom tries, but she’s busy with her foundations and charities she does for the Junior League.”
The breath she sucked in was full of Zack’s scent of sage and leather. “Meanwhile, you can teach Bobby how to ride and maybe take him to the sheriff’s department and show him around. Jake won’t like it, but I’ll deal with him.” Having laid her demands out on the proverbial table, she held her breath, waiting for him to tell her what she could do with herself. After all, a man of Zack’s caliber could have any damned woman he wanted. Tracy was just handy, and according to the gossip of her ex-husband and mother-in-law, she was easy.
He studied her for a few moments. “That’s more than one stipulation.”
“Take it or leave it.”
“Tracy, it won’t change what I told you Friday night. I’m never getting married again.”
His words stung as much now as they had the other night, but she didn’t show him how much. She kept her face determined, as if she were haggling over one of his horses, rather than her body and soul.
“Fine. But I’m not a floozy. Yes, I’ve made mistakes. But I have my son to consider. And I’d hope you’d feel the same about Mandy. They’re bound to see us together. What do you plan on telling your six-year-old daughter when she asks about me? That I’m your friend with benefits? I know that isn’t what I want to be teaching my son.” Moreover, she didn’t want to give credence to Jake’s claim that she had no sexual morals.
“Okay,” he said at last. “We’ll play the game your way.” He pressed her against him. “Luck would have it I’m off this afternoon, too. I’ve already put in sixteen hours.”
When his lips captured hers, she knew she’d made a pact with the devil, but she couldn’t stop the elation surging through her. There was something he wanted from her. Sex was a big portion of it, but something else kept Zack from walking away and hooking up with any one of the many available women in town.
He tilted her head with his hands on either side of her face, and she opened completely to him. He plunged into her mouth, drank in her will to fight along with her breath, and left her trembling and weak-kneed.
Breathing harshly, he pulled back. “When do you have to get Bobby to his practice?”
“Five-thirty.” She somehow managed to breathe out.
The sexy grin sent a quake through the heat building pressure in her lower regions. He caressed her cheeks with his thumbs. “Let’s go out to the ranch. Mandy goes to the daycare after school, and I don’t need to pick her up until five. I can drive you back to get your car.”
“I’ll follow you.”
She was too far gone not to go through with this, but she wanted her own car so she could leave when she wanted to.
He kissed her nose and chuckled. “Alright.”
“Zack, there’s something you...” She paused to search his eyes and bit hard on her lower lip.
“Tracy, if you don’t want to do this now, I’ll understand.”
She shook her head. “It’s not that. I’m not taking anything. Birth control, I mean.”
The furrow of his brow told her he was surprised. He heaved in a long breath. “Well, I guess I’d better stop for condoms then. I’ll run over to Hamilton, because I can’t get them in this county without everyone knowing about it before you even have your first orgasm.”
Heat burned her cheeks at the picture he presented.
He produced a ring of keys from his pocket, removed one of them and held the key toward her. “This will open the m
udroom door, beside the garage. Go in and make yourself at home.”
Yeah, right.
She gingerly accepted the key as if it was a poisoned dart. “Okay.”
He picked his hat up from the desk, but before setting it on his head, he drew her to him again with his free hand on her waist. This kiss was lighter, teasing and promised delights to come. When he pulled back, he left her wanting to strip him right there and have her way with him. Without saying a word, he smiled, settled the Stetson on his head and left.
Tracy watched the door close, the tinkling bell giving a cheerful good-bye. To her it was the harbinger of doom.
What the hell was she doing?
* * * *
Tracy slowed down as she came to the turn-off for Oak Springs Road. She should just go home and forget this whole crazy thing. Her heart was bound to be broken.
She stared at the sign for the county road named for the creek running parallel to it and the ranch to which it led. A beep sounded, and she looked in the rearview mirror to find a pickup truck behind her. When had she stopped? Shaking her head, she took her foot off the brake and hit the gas, zoomed right by the turn-off and over the bridge. At the fork in the road, she turned onto another county road, aptly named Gambler’s Folly.
Yep, this was a gamble alright, and it definitely was folly. She stopped again on the road when she came to the Zack’s gate–the original gate to the CW Ranch. The arch over the driveway was made of wood and showcased the cattle brand the Cartwrights had used for nearly a century and a half–a connected C and W. Beside the brand were painted a pair of aces, representing the winning hand in the poker game in which Cole Cartwright had won the original land in 1865.
The story went that his cousins, Dylan Ferguson and Elijah Blackwell, had pooled their money together and insisted Cole play in the Dallas game only months after they’d returned from the Civil War.
Gambling On a Heart Page 16