Matt: Texas Rascals Book 2

by Wilde, Lori

  “Too busy for one of Parelli’s specialties? Oozing tomato sauce and mozzarella cheese?” he tempted.

  Her mouth watered.

  “Overflowing with sautéed onions and green bell peppers,” he tantalized.

  “No fair.” She laughed. “Food warfare.”

  “All’s fair in love and war,” he quipped.

  “And which is this, Matt?” she asked.

  Their eyes met.

  “War,” they exclaimed in unison.

  Laughing, they put the sandwiches in the refrigerator, woke Cody from his nap, and took him with them as they drove the cattle to the back pasture. It felt so nice. The three of them together like a family.

  Savannah yearned. If only they could be.

  “I don’t know if this is the best place to keep the cattle.” Savannah fretted, kneading her brow with her fingers. “I don’t have a new lock for the gate, and the thieves removed them pretty easily the first time.”

  “Don’t replace the lock. We want them easy to steal.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’ll tell you all about it over lunch.”

  “Am I free to sell the Gerts?”

  Matt backed the trailer across the rough terrain. “I’m sorry, but no.”

  “Why not? I’ve got the tax people chewing my behind for overdue property taxes, and I’ve got to do something.”

  “Stop worrying,” he told her. “If my plan works, we’ll have the thieves under arrest before you know it, and then you’ll be free to do whatever you wish with the herd. And I intend on getting the rest of the cattle back for you, too.”

  “I certainly hope so.” She got out of the truck and followed Matt to the back of the trailer, Cody settled comfortably at her hip.

  Matt let the trailer door down, and he stepped aside. The cattle jostled each other getting out of the trailer and into the pasture.

  “Da.” Cody pointed at the cows and made grasping motions with his hand.

  “Cows,” Savannah instructed. She took his hand and rubbed it against the neck of the docile animal. “Moo.”

  Cody giggled and bucked joyfully in her arms. “Cow!”

  “Yes, cows.” She laughed. Finally, he’d said something besides “da.” She’d started worrying about his lack of verbal skills.

  “Cow, cow, cow,” Cody sang.

  “He’s a little cowboy already,” Matt murmured.

  She looked up and caught Matt studying them with a pensive expression on his face. His gaze caught hers, and he gave her a look so weighted with meaning that Savannah gulped. Was he feeling the same gut-churning emotions that she was? Did the same yearning to recapture what they’d lost hang heavy in his chest?

  “Mission accomplished,” he said, his tone as light as butterfly wings. “Let’s head to the house and those sandwiches. I’m starving.”

  “Me, too.”

  They returned to the farmhouse and washed up. Savannah packed a picnic basket with the sandwiches, baby food for Cody, fresh fruit and potato chips, and filled a cooler with apple juice and soft drinks.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “It’s your ranch. You pick the spot.”

  “Morgan’s Meadow,” she said, naming the spot named after Gary’s great-grandfather. “By the creek. We can let Cody go wading.”

  “Sounds great.”

  “Let’s walk,” she said. “It isn’t far. Just over the hill and down in the valley a bit. About half a mile.”

  She reapplied sunscreen to her face and arms, then slathered a coating over Cody’s wiggly little body. She put on a straw hat as a shield against the Texas noonday sun and settled a tiny baseball cap on her son’s head.

  Matt shouldered the picnic basket and cooler. Savannah tucked the blanket under one arm and held Cody in the other. Matt opened the back door, and they traipsed out across the pasture.

  Mockingbirds and scissortails flitted through the mesquite and chinaberry trees. Wildflowers swayed in the fields—orange-red Indian paintbrushes, yellow black-eyed Susan, purple prickly pears. Grasshoppers leaped beneath their feet.

  The delicious aroma of garlicky meatballs seeped up from the wooden picnic basket. Bees hummed by. Butterflies pirouetted in the air. In the distance, a creek gurgled. They topped the hill and started down into the valley. A narrow stream ran through a clump of chinaberry trees. Savannah pointed out the spot.

  “Let’s picnic here.”

  Matt set the picnic basket and cooler underneath the shade of the tree, took the blanket from Savannah, and spread it on the ground.

  She sank to her knees and placed the toddler beside her on the blanket. Cody squealed with delight and played with toy firetruck she’d brought along to distract him.

  “Since he seems content right now, why don’t we eat first, and I’ll feed him later,” Savannah said.

  “Whatever you say, you’re the mom.” He studied her. “You’re a great mother, by the way.”

  His kind words hurt because would a great mother have kept a father from his son?

  You had good reasons for doing what you did.

  But what had seemed good reasons at the time, now felt like excuses. Shouldn’t she have at least given Matt a chance to make up his own mind instead of deciding everything for him? Even if she did have his best interest at heart by breaking up with him. She feared he wasn’t going to see it that way when he learned the truth.

  Guilt was a sledgehammer, knocking against her chest.

  Matt sat down next to her, doffed his hat, and ran a hand through his hair. He looked so handsome, she could scarcely catch her breath.

  “I’ll warn you right now, moms rarely get through a meal without being interrupted,” she said.

  “I can handle that. As long as I’m with you, I can handle anything.” Then he lightly touched her forearm, and Savannah just about came undone.

  11

  Matt couldn’t help noticing that Savannah gently moved her arm away and couldn’t meet his gaze. Did she feel as overwhelmed as he did by the powerful attraction that hadn’t lessened one whit in two years apart? It had, if anything, grown stronger.

  She leaned over and opened the picnic basket. Her luscious hair feathered over her high cheekbones. Her vanilla scent tickled his nose. Her little bell earrings tinkled softly. A lump formed in his throat.

  What in the Sam Hill was he doing here? Matt closed his eyes and remembered other picnics, other events where they’d stretched out on a blanket together. Those times had ended in wild embraces, with arms and legs tangled together, their mouths molded around each other.

  Matt swallowed hard. A picnic had been a stupid idea.

  “Here you go,” she said.

  He opened his eyes to see her smiling at him. The sight took his breath. She tucked a strand of hair behind a delicate ear, extending the wax-paper-wrapped sandwich toward him.

  “Th…th…thanks,” he stuttered, so thrown by her beauty he just stared.

  “Need something to drink?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he croaked.

  “Soda or apple juice?”

  “Whatever.”

  She pulled the tab on a cola can and handed him the cold soft drink. He pressed it to his forehead in an attempt to cool the heat raging within him. Wow. He had to get hold of himself, and pronto.

  Unwrapping her own sandwich, Savannah held it gingerly between her fingers so the tomato sauce wouldn’t drip on her clothes. Her mouth opened. Matt saw a flash of her friendly pink tongue, and he groaned inwardly.

  She took a cautious bite.

  Matt had to glance away, his own sandwich growing clammy in his sweaty palm. He tried to concentrate on eating but could think of nothing except Savannah’s mouth, her tongue, her sweet, full lips.

  “Arg.” He sighed.

  “Something wrong?”

  She swallowed the bite of meatball sandwich and stared at him with wide gold-green eyes. A spot of tomato sauce dotted the corner of her mouth. Matt fought the u
rge to lean over and kiss it away. She saved him by dabbing it off with a napkin.

  He shook his head.

  Cody scooted across the blanket between them. Grateful for the distraction, Matt turned his attention to the baby. Cody reached for Matt’s sandwich, and he broke off a chunk of bread and offered it to him. The boy drooled on the tidbit and grinned.

  “Chips?” Savannah held up the bag.

  Matt shook his head.

  “French onion,” she tempted. “Your favorite.”

  “You remembered.”

  “I remember a lot of things about you.”

  Same here. Too darn many things, like how her breasts felt pressed against his chest, and the way she loved to have her tummy tickled with a light, gentle touch. Had Markum catered to her desires? He didn’t even want to think about her and Markum together. Even though the man was dead, jealousy still knotted his chest.

  “So,” Savannah said, licking the sauce from her fingers. “Tell me about your plans to catch the cattle thieves.”

  Matt set his sandwich aside, too keyed up to eat another bite. He stretched out on the blanket, cradled his head in his palms, and stared through the tree branches at the cerulean sky. Cody crawled over his belly and sat right on his chest.

  “Come here, Cody,” Savannah said, clapping her hands. “Get off Matt.”

  “He’s okay,” Matt assured her and wrapped an arm around the boy.

  Savannah popped open a jar of baby food, and that got Cody’s attention fast. He slid off Matt and reached for his mother.

  “I thought that might convince you,” she cooed.

  Matt narrowed his eyes, lazily watching mother and child.

  “So go ahead,” Savannah said while angling a spoonful of strained apricots into Cody’s eager mouth.

  “I know you’re not going to want to hear this, but I think Clem might be involved,” Matt said.

  Savannah frowned. “Why?”

  “Think about it, Savvy. How did the thieves get in and out so quickly? That west pasture is a far piece from the house. They had to have at least two trailers for fourteen head of cattle or one mighty big one. How come nobody heard anything?”

  She shrugged, wiping Cody’s chin with a napkin. “They still could have managed it without Clem’s help.”

  Matt raised a palm. “I have a theory.”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “What if Clem knew about the insurance policy?”

  “Suppose he did. So what? How would he benefit from that?” She glanced at him, lips pursed in an inquisitive pucker.

  His heart jackhammered. Good grief, what was happening to him? Two years ago, she’d hurt him so badly he thought he’d never recover, and now one look from her and he felt like a schoolboy on his first date, angling to slip his arm around a pretty girl at the movies.

  “Clem wouldn’t benefit from the insurance policy, but he realizes you will.”

  “Yes?” Her hair swung against her shoulders.

  “Yeah. He doesn’t feel guilty about stealing the cattle knowing you’ll get the insurance money. He knows you’re in tough financial straits. In fact, he might see it as a way to solve both your troubles. He gets a cut on the profits from the thefts, and you get the insurance money.”

  Savannah gnawed her thumbnail. “I can’t believe it of Clem. He’s worked for Gary’s family for over twenty years.”

  “What about Todd? He drew up the policy for Gary, and yet, when you told him your cattle were missing, he never once mentioned the policy. That’s suspicious, too,” Matt pointed out.

  “Todd? No way. He’s so honest, he squeaks. He’s been thinking about the wedding, not business. I’m sure it just slipped his mind.”

  “So we’re back to Clem.”

  “But why?”

  “Maybe he starts considering the idea of stealing your cattle after the other thefts occurred. Then he’s thinking if your cattle turn up missing, the sheriff will assume it’s the same culprits.”

  “I guess it’s a possibility.”

  “And then there’s this. A few days ago, I saw him in Kelly’s with Brent Larkins and Hootie Thompson, two of the most unsavory characters this side of the Pecos.”

  * * *

  Savannah didn’t like what Matt was saying. She didn’t want to believe that Clem was capable of such a thing. He’d been so good to her since Gary’s death. His advanced age prevented him from doing more, but she’d always believed he possessed a kind heart. Now, Matt’s words had her doubting her own judgment.

  Was she really so blind?

  Scraping the last spoonful of apricots from the jar, she fed Cody the remaining bite, then wiped his mouth again. Then she peeled a banana, broke off half, and gave it to him. He squeezed the banana between his chubby fingers and laughed.

  “But you don’t have any solid evidence, correct?” Her eyes met Matt’s.

  He propped himself up on one elbow, stuck a blade of grass between his teeth, and nodded. “If we want to catch him, we’ve got to set a trap.”

  “You think he’d do it again?”

  “If not him, then Larkins and Thompson.”

  Savannah shook her head. “I don’t know about this.”

  “You want to get the rest of your cattle back?”

  “Well, sure, but will this do the trick?”

  “Worth a try.”

  “I suppose.” She shrugged and let out a long sigh.

  “I want to close this case.”

  She looked away to see Cody toddling toward the creek. Moving quickly, she intercepted him before he could dive headfirst into the water.

  He squealed his displeasure and flailed his arms at her.

  “Okay, okay, I’ll let you wade for a minute.” Ignoring Matt, she squatted next to the creek, held Cody under his arms, and let him splash his feet in the cool stream that trickled down from the snow off the Davis Mountains in the spring.

  “Remember the time we drove to Turner Falls in Oklahoma?” Matt’s voice rumbled, husky and low, across the prairie.

  Savannah squeezed her eyes shut. Why was he doing this to her? Torturing her with memories, with regrets, with thoughts of what might have been.

  “Remember?” he repeated.

  Boy, did she ever.

  That trip to Turner Falls had been the most exotic, erotic adventure of her young life. Matt had borrowed his uncle’s new pickup, and they’d packed a tent and supplies. During the entire journey, she’d practically sat in his lap, Matt’s arms curving around her to reach the steering wheel while she rested her head against his chest.

  They’d laughed and talked and sung along with the radio. She’d felt so loved, so cared for. Back when she was young and stupid and still believed in happily ever after.

  Once at Turner Falls, they’d been delighted to discover the park almost deserted at that time of year. It was late September and kids were in school. They pitched the tent, then spent the afternoon climbing the craggy rocks, exploring the caves, and swimming in the clear water pools. They’d cooked hot dogs over an open fire, then kissed beneath a waterfall, long, slow, and tender.

  Warmth suffused her solar plexus as she remembered the feel of Matt’s callused fingers skimming her pliant body, the hungry taste of his thirsty mouth, the sound of water splattering around them. Only the unexpected arrival of park rangers had kept them from making love on that trip.

  The memory made her shiver.

  Cody giggled, splashing cold water in her face.

  Savannah opened her eyes. Matt crouched beside her. Her gaze floated up to meet his.

  “When did things go so wrong between us?” he asked.

  Cody plunked down on his bottom in the stream. Savannah wrapped her arms around her knees, her straw hat hiding her face from him.

  “Savvy?”

  She turned her head and eyed him. The thin scar on the side of his face, courtesy of Julio Diaz’s knife, had gone from red to dull pink. That scar epitomized Matt. He was relentless. Nothing ever got in
his way. He would move heaven and earth to achieve his goals.

  Tell him about Cody.

  She opened her mouth. “Matt, I…there’s something you should know.”

  “About the cattle?”

  Savannah stood up abruptly, picked Cody up, and took him back to the blanket for a diaper change. Her chest tightened as if twisted in a vise. It was so hard to open herself up to the hurt and anger she knew that was coming. Was this really the best place with Cody crawling underfoot?

  You’re stalling.

  Yes, she was.

  “Savannah?”

  She heard him get to his feet and felt him come up behind her as she put Cody on his back and changed his diaper.

  “Honey? What’s wrong?” He placed a hand on her shoulder. His touch sent a tremor throughout her body.

  She shrugged him off. She didn’t deserve his tenderness. She finished up with the diaper change and gave Cody a cookie to keep him occupied.

  “Talk to me, Savvy.”

  “I…” Oh God, just say it.

  “You can tell me anything, sweetheart,” he whispered.

  “Anything?” She stared into his steady gaze. Did he somehow suspect?

  “Anything.” He nodded. “I won’t judge you.”

  “What happened between us two years ago—”

  “Is over,” he said firmly. “We don’t have to talk about it. The past is the past.” He took her hand in his. “What I want to talk about is our future.”

  “Our fu…future?” she stammered.

  “Ever since I saw you again I’ve felt the old pull, stronger than ever.” He brushed away a lock of hair from her cheek. “And I think you feel it, too.”

  She did! “Things aren’t that simple, Matt.”

  “Sure they are. Or they could be. I still love you, and I’m praying hard that you love me, too.”

  She closed her eyes, swallowing hard past the lump in her throat. “There are things you don’t understand.”

  This was so difficult. She was about to filet herself wide open, leaving her heart bare.

  He cupped her chin in his palm, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. “If only you could curb this irrational fear of yours that I’ll end up getting killed, then maybe we might have a chance to rebuild something together. I know you’ve had a lot of loss in your life, that it’s hard for you to trust—”