by Pam Crooks
She pressed her lips together against the harshness of TJ’s logic, but she could find no argument with which to retaliate. Kullen’s actions were indeed troubling. There was no sense to them.
“He’s working with Emmett,” TJ added roughly.
She hid her surprise with a frown. “Who?”
“My groomer.” He turned back toward her, the line of his jaw hard, the sheen in his eyes like flint. “Emmett Ralston. He came to work for me a few weeks ago, and he’s been feeding Kullen information ever since.”
Callie Mae shivered at the revelation—and at the fury TJ could barely contain. She supposed he directed some of it at himself for being duped; the rest, well, blood would spill when he saw Emmett Ralston again.
“The man is your problem. Not mine. Whatever association Kullen has with him, I’ll determine after I see to his welfare.” Resolutely, she tugged on the reins. “I’ve changed my mind about this crazy chase, TJ. I’m heading back to Amarillo.”
But before she could turn her mount, TJ’s arm shot out and he grabbed firm hold on the bridle.
“The hell you will,” he growled. “You’re staying with me.”
She smacked his forearm. “Let go!”
His grasp only tightened. “You’re not safe with him, Callie Mae.”
She drew back in frustrated exasperation. “That’s ridiculous. Of course, I am.”
“You’re a fool to trust him farther than you can spit, and if you don’t believe that, then you’re not nearly as smart as you should be. Didn’t what happened at Boomer’s tell you anything?”
He’s not the man you think he is… you think he is… you think he is…
The warning echoed again in her mind.
She fought it back into silence. Kullen was one of the most intelligent, kind, loyal men she’d ever known. He loved her. He’d told her so many times over. He’d never do anything to hurt her.
She leveled TJ with an imperious look, letting her contempt for his accusations show.
“He’ll be my husband soon. I trust him more than anyone,” she said.
TJ released the bridle and sat back, glaring at her. His lip curled. “Your husband.”
“Not that it’s any of your business.”
A mask of indifference fell across his shadowed features. “You could marry the devil for all I care, Callie Mae. But you agreed to come with me to find Blue and the truth about Danny’s death. I mean to hold you to both.”
He appeared ruthlessly determined, and desperation flickered inside her. “I have to go back to Amarillo. Kullen needs me.”
“Don’t pride yourself.” TJ’s demeanor turned frosty, and her skin chilled. “I always thought the Lockett word meant something. Leastways, it did with your mother.”
She stiffened at the barb.
“Guess I was wrong about you,” he said.
At that moment, she despised him more than ever.
“Going to be hard to prove yourself in this world if you don’t do what you say you’re going to do.”
How could he know that proving herself had become all-important, especially in her mother’s absence? And was there really more to learn about Danny’s death, as he claimed?
Her resistance crumbled. Damn him for leaving her defenseless against his attack. Danny would always be her one weak spot…
“Fine,” she grated. Her questions to Kullen would have to wait; she fervently hoped he received the medical attention he needed without her. “I’ll keep looking for your horse, but only for a little longer.” She refused to look at TJ and told herself she was doing the right thing and that any suspicions hovering over her brother’s death took priority over her concern for Kullen.
Didn’t they?
A headache stirred. She threw a scowling look around her. “Where are we anyway?”
A moment passed. Callie Mae could feel him watching her, his gaze pulling, but she quelled the urge to meet it. She sensed there was more he intended to say, yet his silence indicated he’d thought better of it.
“Just inside the Potter County line. Not far from the eastern boundary of the C Bar C,” he said.
His voice had lost its edge. Was he relieved some of the fight had drained from her? That she intended to cooperate with him?
Had his worry for her been that deep?
“A friend of mine lives over there.” He lifted a long arm and pointed toward a stand of pines in the distance. Dingy smoke curling in the darkening sky indicated a cabin hidden somewhere beyond them. “Might be he’s seen Blue.”
TJ urged his horse forward. Resigned, Callie Mae followed.
TJ rarely lied. In fact, he never did—except once in recent memory. But telling Callie Mae he could care less about who she married was as bald-faced a lie as a man could tell.
He did care. More than he should.
More than he had a right.
Her choice of husbands was none of his business, but damn it, what was she thinking? They didn’t come any shiftier than Kullen Brosius, and she couldn’t be more blind not to see it.
That scared the hell out of him—Callie Mae being blind. It meant Kullen had fooled her but good. It meant she’d fight TJ like a she-cat if he tried to prove her thinking wrong.
And that’s just what he intended to prove, whether she liked it or not. To keep her from making the biggest mistake of her life.
Grimly, he skirted the grouping of pine trees, and the faint crunch of hooves against fallen needles assured him she wasn’t far behind. He didn’t know how long he’d be able to keep her with him. She could turn and bolt the minute his back was turned, and what would he do then? Tear after her? When he had to find Blue first?
He hoped he didn’t have to make the choice. The stallion could be miles away in who knew which direction, and it might take days, weeks, to hunt him down. He couldn’t expect Callie Mae to endure it, and yet—
She drew up beside him, and he halted.
And yet, he wanted her to do just that.
TJ allowed himself to be reminded of how beautiful she was, her body slender inside a tan checked gown trimmed in gold-and-brown silk. She sat in the saddle with her shoulders square, her back straight. She looked every bit a Lockett sitting there. Every bit female. And the blood in his groin stirred.
He hadn’t ridden with her in years. Not since they were kids, when he was a gangly wrangler who couldn’t get a string of words out in her presence without twisting his tongue around them first. She was five years younger and off-limits as the boss’s daughter. She’d grown up knowing him as just another sun-browned face in the crowded C Bar C outfit, and TJ had had to work hard to keep from wearing his heart on his sleeve.
“Who lives here?” she asked.
He dragged his thoughts back from the past and regretted how her question was a reminder of why they were here. Of how everything had changed the night Danny died. That she’d always despise him because of what Kullen had done.
Which only proved all the more that he had to find Blue and satisfy his revenge.
TJ’s gaze joined Callie Mae’s on the small log cabin nestled amongst the pines. Their horses stood on the edge of a yard overrun with weeds and dotted with spots of bare ground. A light shone through a thin curtain covering one of the windows.
“His name’s Dale Cooper. He worked for your mother a while back,” he said.
“Stinky Dale?”
She swiveled toward him in surprise, and for once, there was no animosity in her expression.
Again, the sight of her distracted him. The wide-brimmed contrivance she called a hat darkened her face yet silhouetted its regal shape. The wind had pulled at her hair, and wisps fluttered against her temple and cheeks. A large ostrich feather lay askew on top; a wide brown-and-gold-striped bow needed straightening. Damned if he knew how she managed to keep the thing on her head, even if they hadn’t been riding hell-bent for leather across the Texas range.
“TJ.” A hint of impatience lent a snap to her voice. “I asked you�
�Stinky Dale?”
His brain scrambled off her and back onto the name she demanded he clarify. Hell, she probably thought he was an idiot.
“Yes.” TJ returned his scrutiny to the cabin and refused to let her distract him again. “He left the C Bar C when he bought this section of land. Got married and had a couple of kids.”
“I remember him.” She sounded defensive, as if he thought she wouldn’t.
“You should. He was a good cowboy. Spent his growing-up years on your ranch.”
Callie Mae sniffed. “By the looks of this place, he should never have left.”
TJ was inclined to agree, but he kept his mouth shut. A man couldn’t be blamed for wanting a spread of his own; some just did a better job than others at having one.
“You’ll know his wife,” he said instead. “Becky Rupp.”
A moment passed—her brain working, he guessed, to place the name.
“Her father, Ben Rupp, keeps sheep down by Childress Way,” he added to poke her memory.
She shifted in the saddle, as if impatient with his prodding. “I don’t recall the name.”
For some reason, that annoyed him. As a Lockett, she should be familiar with the ranchers and farmers in the area, something her mother had always made a point of doing.
Most likely, she’d been too busy cavorting with the likes of Kullen Brosius, living her carefree high-society life while everyone else toiled for their living, clinging to dreams that could shatter when they least expected it.
Someone like himself.
Glowering, he nudged his horse toward Stinky Dale’s cabin, and this time, TJ didn’t bother to check if Callie Mae followed.
Chapter Five
The cabin door opened, and Stinky Dale stepped out in his stocking feet. The aroma of frying potatoes wafted from behind him. He peered into the dusk.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said in surprise. “That you, TJ?”
“It is.” TJ drew up, crossed his wrists over the saddle horn and tried to look calmer than he felt. “Hope you don’t mind us showing up at your doorstep like this.”
“Hell, no.” The cowboy’s gaze swung toward Callie Mae. “Who’s that you got with you?”
“Callie Mae Lockett.”
A moment passed. “You don’t say.”
She shifted, and the angle of her head showed more of her face beneath the wide brim. “Hello, Stinky.”
“Miss Lockett.” The cowboy stood a little straighter, his stance showing the respect he’d always had for her and her parents. “You’re all growed up now, aren’t you?”
“It was inevitable, I suppose.” She gave him a small smile.
TJ cleared his throat. Social niceties weren’t going to help him find his horse, but before he could open his mouth to ask about Blue, a woman appeared in the doorway.
Stinky’s wife, Becky. By the looks of the plain-looking dress hanging on her thin frame, times were hard for them. She dried her hands on flour-sack toweling and swept a curious glance over them.
“Who’re you talking to out here, Dale?” she asked.
“TJ Grier. He’s got Callie Mae Lockett with him.”
“Grier?” She stilled, looking alarmed. “Isn’t he the one—”
“Yes.” Stinky Dale’s mouth went tight.
And TJ should’ve known the mistake he’d make in coming. Of course, Stinky Dale and Becky had heard about Danny’s death. They would’ve heard about TJ’s part in it, too, just like everyone had, not only in the Texas Panhandle, but in surrounding states and beyond.
Except TJ had thought Stinky Dale would be different. That he wouldn’t believe. They’d spent too many years together on the C Bar C, sweating and swearing, wrangling horses and punching cows, for the wiry cowboy to think TJ was capable of the crime.
But from the grim look on Stinky Dale’s face, TJ thought wrong.
He steeled himself against burning hurt. Chastised himself for the weakness. Consoled himself with the knowledge he didn’t need Stinky Dale or his tired-looking wife to find Blue. He didn’t need anyone. And the longer he sat there, enduring their stares and high-handed judgments, the longer it’d take to prove to them he wasn’t a killer.
A child-killer.
Damn them all to hell.
He slammed his gaze into Callie Mae’s.
“Let’s go,” he grated.
He hadn’t known she was staring at him, too. Condemning him like the Coopers were? Blaming him? Hating him for all that had happened?
He cursed the dusk and the shadows that hid her face beneath the hat brim. He didn’t like not knowing what was inside her head, the thoughts that were certain to be on the past. On him. That gave her the advantage, and he’d about had his limit from being on the wrong end of it.
“Not yet, TJ,” she said, not moving.
Her tone held the same firm command he’d heard often enough from Carina, her mother, the she-boss he’d once revered. Still would revere, if she hadn’t banished him forever from the C Bar C.
“You had a reason for dragging me out to Stinky Dale’s place this time of night,” Callie Mae continued in a cool voice. “Now that we’re here, go on and ask him what you need to know.”
“I’ve changed my mind on it,” he said tersely.
“Is that so?”
He didn’t grace her challenge with a response but yanked on the reins to turn his mount. He refused to argue with her, with Stinky Dale and Becky being witness. The horse pranced, ready to run, but a tiny part of TJ, the disgustingly weak part of him, wasn’t ready to leave yet.
Not without asking about Blue.
Callie Mae huffed an exasperated breath and turned to the Coopers.
“He’s looking for a horse,” she said in brisk explanation. “A stallion. Thoroughbred. Three-years-old or thereabouts. Black as night and still wearing his lead rope.”
Stinky Dale’s glance jumped from her to TJ and back again. “A thoroughbred?”
“That’s right,” she said.
TJ would’ve been impressed at her recall if he hadn’t been so damned annoyed with her. He tugged on the reins again, this time bringing himself back around to face her.
“You’ll not be doing my talking for me, Callie Mae,” he growled.
“Someone has to,” she said. “You’re sitting there, stiff as a stone wall.”
“Can’t imagine you losin’ a thoroughbred,” Stinky Dale drawled, clearly skeptical.
TJ snapped a glower at the cowboy. “I didn’t lose him. He was spooked. On purpose.”
“Yeah?”
“Have you seen him?” Callie Mae asked.
Stinky Dale shook his head. “No, but there’s a lot of country out here.”
Of which TJ didn’t need to be reminded. Fear stirred in him anew. The worry he’d never see Blue again.
“Whereabouts was he runnin’ from?” Stinky Dale asked.
“Preston Farm.” TJ peered out into the darkening twilight and hoped against foolish hope that his horse would suddenly appear. Like magic.
“Boomer’s place?” The cowboy appeared taken aback.
But, of course, Blue wouldn’t appear. Magic would be too easy, and when had TJ’s life been that?
“Yep.” He gripped the reins. “We’ve taken up enough of your time, Stinky Dale. Go on back inside. Your supper’s waiting.” He braced himself for a long night of riding. Of relentless searching. “Come on, Callie Mae. Let’s go.”
Before he could turn his horse to leave, he encountered Becky Cooper’s stare. The look in her face, the wide-eyed apprehension that shone through the shadows, chilled his blood.
She was afraid of him.
It was there in the way she held herself, stiff and wary. As if she was ready to bolt into the cabin and lock the doors tight if he so much as looked at her wrong.
What did she think he’d do? Hurt her?
The realization stunned him.
Because of what he’d done. What she thought he’d done, and how could he convince
her he wasn’t the monster she believed him to be?
The door burst open with a screech of its hinges. A slick-haired boy of about four strode out. “Ma? When are we gonna eat?”
Another boy, a year younger, followed, but stopped short at the sight of visitors. “Hey, Pa! Who’s here?”
He took an exuberant step toward Stinky Dale, but Becky gasped and moved faster, grabbed him by the collar and held him close. As if on second thought, she grabbed her oldest son, too, and pulled them both up against her.
“Stay here, boys,” she commanded.
TJ didn’t move. Didn’t think. He could barely breathe from the insult.
“Becky.” Stinky Dale frowned the warning.
“You know what he did, Dale,” she said, her voice unsteady. “We have to be careful.” She stood taller, her thin face resolute in the dimming light, and leveled TJ with a condescending glance. “We haven’t seen your horse, Mr. Grier, like my husband said. So you’d best just ride on out of here and look for him somewhere else.”
“I’ll do that.” TJ gathered his pride and wondered what had possessed him to think that stopping by Stinky Dale’s was a good idea. “Sorry to have bothered you.”
“Not so fast, TJ.” Callie Mae’s lips curved. “I’m rather glad we stopped here. In fact, I think I’d like to stay a while.”
And with that, she swept aside her skirts, swung a leg over the saddle and dismounted.
“What are you doing, Callie Mae?”
TJ glowered down at her from the saddle. She had to tilt her head to glower right back at him.
“I doubt you’ve noticed, but it’s getting dark. Cold, too. The horses are tired. They need to rest.” She set her hands on her hips. “We have no food, no water, and I’m not going one step further.”
“You knew this wasn’t going to be a pleasure ride,” he said, the rumble in his voice giving fair warning he’d throttle her if he could reach her.
“I’m not going to let it be a foolish one.”