by Pam Crooks
His damned honor again, and he sighed. The day he claimed Callie Mae as his own was the day she came to him willingly, as hungry for him as he’d always be for her. Without a shred of resistance to hold her back.
Might be he was only dreaming it’d happen that way, but it was a dream he couldn’t let go of. He eased away and pulled her closer. Her head settled on his shoulder, and for now, holding her, warming her, would have to be enough. He tugged her blanket higher to her neck.
“You didn’t answer my question, Mr. Grier,” she murmured after a moment.
He thought back to it, before his lust had taken over and distracted him. “About how this will all end?”
“Yes.”
“It’ll end with the truth.”
She emitted a worried tsk. “Everything’s such a mess, TJ. I’m scared what the truth will be.”
He understood her fear. He’d lived through plenty of it himself over the past months.
“Better than not knowing,” he said firmly. “The time’s long past to right the wrongs that have been done to both of us.”
“Of course.” Her head moved in a quick nod. “Of course, you’re right.”
Despite her agreement, she still sounded apprehensive, and he dropped a reassuring kiss to her temple.
“Go to sleep, Callie Mae. Sun’ll be up soon.”
And with the arrival of dawn, the certainty of being unable to hold her any longer.
His chest tightened. Would he ever have another chance like this one?
Until she left him, he intended to savor the feel of her body snuggled against his, growing more relaxed the warmer she became.
Didn’t take long for his imagination to kick in, thinking how her slim legs would feel entwined with his, without the cumbersome denim between them, the hard ground beneath, the air above chilly. To have the comforts of a real bed, a home of their own, a lifetime of nights together…
“TJ. Did you hear that?”
Callie Mae’s whisper brought him instantly awake, and his senses hurtled into place. Brilliant sun dappled through the leaves, startling him with the realization dawn had long since arrived.
“Hear what?” he asked, his mind more on how he’d overslept than on her concern. Must’ve been the pleasure of having a beautiful woman against him, keeping them both toasty and sleeping as sound as babies.
“A horse, I think.”
He took a few moments to listen but heard nothing. His glance jumped toward their mounts, still hobbled.
“I think someone’s coming,” she said in a hushed voice.
He didn’t take her concern lightly. “Stay put. I’ll have a look around.”
She drew back, giving him room to reach for Kullen’s peashooter, stashed safely beside his bedroll.
A twig snapped.
TJ froze.
A crunch followed, not unlike an iron-shod hoof stepping over rocky ground, and TJ suddenly lunged for the pathetic-size Colt derringer while vehemently wishing for his shotgun which would’ve been a whole lot more deadly—
“Hold it right there, TJ, or we’ll shoot.”
He didn’t move.
Callie Mae sucked in a breath of alarm.
They both twisted toward the three mounted men moseying into their camp, each with rifles cocked and leveled right at them.
TJ, in particular.
Woollie Morgan had been foreman for the C Bar C ranch for as long as TJ could remember. With him, Jesse Keller and Orlin Fahey, two of the most dedicated cowboys Carina and Penn McClure could have on their payroll.
And TJ had grown up right under their noses.
That they pointed weapons at him now rankled. Deep. A searing hurt rooted in his conviction for Danny’s death, years of friendship and camaraderie destroyed because of what TJ had done.
What Kullen had done.
Callie Mae flung aside the wool and scrambled to her feet.
“Put those rifles away. All of you,” she ordered. “Woollie, what are you thinking, coming into our camp like this?”
None of them moved.
“I’m thinking I’m a mite disappointed you’ve let yourself be his blanket companion, teacup,” Woollie said. “I wouldn’t have expected it of you.”
Her cheeks pinkened. “It wasn’t like you think.”
“I know what I saw.”
TJ rose. “Nothing happened, Woollie. Not that it’s any of your business if it had.”
The foreman’s eyes swung sharply toward him. His curly white beard being the reason for his nickname, the man had been a part of Callie Mae’s life since the day she was born. When her own grandfather died a half-dozen years ago, Woollie had quietly stepped in to take his place, loving her as his own.
“Reckon she’s a Lockett, TJ,” Woollie said. “That makes her my business, all right.”
“I’ve come to no harm with him.” Chin kicked up, Callie Mae’s voice rang firm.
The foreman grunted his skepticism. “Heard tell he put a gun to your head, young lady. That tells me right there he’s put you in harm’s way.”
“He had his reasons.”
“I’ll bet he did.”
TJ scowled in annoyance. Damned if Callie Mae was going to do his talking for him. “If you’d have been there, Woollie, you would’ve seen for yourself why things happened the way they did.”
“Half the county’s talking about what happened, TJ. I didn’t have to be there.”
Callie Mae set her hands on her slim hips. “Oh, Woollie, hush. I understand your concern, truly I do, but you can tell by looking at me, I’m just fine.”
He skimmed her with a gaze—from the top of her uncombed head to her bootless feet—so thoroughly, she fidgeted. Pain darkened his eyes.
“Not sure I can tell that at all, honey,” he said roughly, and shot TJ a condemning look.
“I am. I promise.” Her voice had softened. Clearly, she read the concern in his gruffness. “Please don’t worry.”
He indicated her ill-fitting denims, the man’s shirt. “What you’re wearing isn’t what it was when you left the ranch.”
“No.” In a self-conscious gesture, she stuffed the shirt hem more snuggly in the waistband of her Levi’s, tidying herself for their perusal after a night of sleeping in her clothes. “I borrowed these from Stinky Dale Cooper. We stopped at his place for supper. How did you find us out here?”
Woollie lowered his rifle, as if convinced TJ wouldn’t be a threat, after all. Jesse and Orlin followed suit. “When we heard about what happened, we rode out to the Coopers’ place first. Figured they were nearest Preston Farm and might’ve seen you. Becky told us you were headed toward the Palo Duro.”
“We were looking for TJ’s horse.”
“So I hear.”
“We found him,” TJ added, just in case any of them were interested.
Woollie said nothing. His silence stung, right along with Jesse and Orlin’s. A year ago, the subject of TJ owning a racehorse as fine as Blue Whistler would’ve been fodder for a wagonload of interest from all of them.
Their lack of response only proved once again how much TJ had lost. Friends, who had once been like brothers to him.
“Reckon there’s not much reason to stick around then, is there, Callie Mae?” Woollie asked. “Which horse is yours over there? We’re taking you home.”
“Not yet,” TJ said, thinking of the truth he needed to find with her first.
“I have to ride into Amarillo to see Kullen,” she added firmly.
The foreman shook his head, giving her another once-over, his expression indicating he didn’t like what he saw. “You look like something the cat drug in, Callie Mae. Not fitting for a Lockett and for sure not fitting to be traipsing into a hospital. The way folks have been talking about you and what happened, you’ll get ’em fired up even more.” He jerked his chin toward the tethered horses. “I’m taking you home where it’s safe.”
“But—”
“No arguing.”
“She’s a
grown woman, Woollie.” TJ glowered. “Treat her like one.”
“No, no, he’s right, TJ.” She tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear and stood a little taller, her feminine pride kicking in to change her mind. “I’ll clean up before I ride in to see Kullen.”
TJ sensed her pulling back from him, a shifting from the world they’d shared these past days to return to her own. A world where he didn’t belong. He was losing her, too soon, and he wasn’t ready.
“Callie Mae.” He clenched his teeth, on the verge of embarrassing himself in front of the cowboys by begging her to stay.
As if she hadn’t heard him speak, she turned back to Orlin. “My horse is the roan. Saddle him for me, will you?”
“Sure thing, Miss Lockett.” Orlin slid his rifle into its scabbard and hefted his bulk out of the saddle. Paunch-bellied and balding, he moved with a grace one wouldn’t expect for his girth. He avoided TJ’s glance and set to work.
She strode toward the saddlebags to collect her things, but TJ snatched her wrist before she got there.
“Callie Mae,” he grated. “I’ll go with you—”
But even before he finished the sentence, he knew he wouldn’t. Sadness filled her expression, and she shook her head.
“I’m sorry, TJ,” she said quietly. “I don’t think that would be wise.”
Scalded by her refusal, he immediately released her and steeled himself against the truth of her words. The truth which would never be fair.
He gave her a cold smile. “It wouldn’t, would it?”
She hesitated. “No.”
She turned away. Before he knew it, she was saddled up and ready to ride, protectively flanked on either side by Woollie and Orlin. If she glanced at TJ, if she waved him a goodbye before they left, he didn’t see it.
He refused to watch her leave.
Only the sound of hoofbeats told him she did.
Except, one of them held back.
Jesse.
And TJ braced himself to find out why.
Chapter Fifteen
“You always were crazy in love with her, weren’t you, TJ?” Shaking his head, the cowboy sheathed his rifle.
TJ was in no mood for a confrontation. Jesse had worked at the C Bar C for a decade and a half; he’d been there from the very first day TJ joined the outfit, and TJ figured he could tell Jesse just about anything, including his feelings for Callie Mae.
Not anymore.
Jesse’s allegiance would always be with Carina and Penn, and right now, that put him on the opposite side of the fence to TJ. Damn near made TJ bleed just thinking it, knowing it, but things being the way they were, it couldn’t be helped.
“Best if you ride on out of here, Jesse,” he said. “Else you’ll never catch up with the other three.”
“In due time. In due time.”
Jesse swung a leg over the saddle horn and dropped to the ground. He rooted in his shirt pocket and pulled out a couple of quirleys.
He strode toward TJ, and TJ watched him come. That stride of his—lean, loose, bowlegged—and familiar. Like it’d been only yesterday since they’d cowboyed together on the C Bar C.
“Smoke?” Jesse asked.
“All right.” TJ cleared his throat. “Thanks.”
He remained wary. He couldn’t figure why Jesse would stay behind when only minutes ago he’d leveled his rifle in TJ’s direction.
Yet while they hunkered in the grass, both of them taking their first drags off their cigarettes, the silence between them turned… strangely companionable.
Just like old times.
“I never believed you, you know,” Jesse said finally. “What you said about Danny.”
TJ stilled. “That right?”
Jesse nodded and lifted a speck of tobacco off the tip of his tongue. “You were lying, weren’t you?”
“About what?”
“Killing him.”
“What makes you think I was?” TJ hedged, needing time to comprehend where Jesse was leading. How much he knew.
“No way you could’ve done it.”
“Don’t think so?”
“Nope.” Jesse glanced over at him, then. Steady. Direct. “You were down in the valley, racing with the rest of us that night. We all saw you. No way you could’ve gone up to that horse barn in time to grab your shotgun and shoot him.”
“I left early.”
“Not early enough.”
TJ stared straight ahead. He fought the ugly memories and resisted the possibility Jesse might have figured out what Maggie had done and only despised TJ more for lying about it.
TJ had always made it a habit to check on Maggie. Still did, in fact. Every night. Just to make sure she was all right.
And that’s what he’d done back then. Already half-drunk from the cold beer flowing freely among them, he left their racing early to check on Maggie. He’d been stunned to see the fire raging out of control, and he’d sobered up quick. Hearing the shotgun, finding that gut-wrenchingly small form crumpled in the dirt, his mother bent over and sobbing uncontrollably—
The horror and grief—sweet Lord, he hoped neither of them had to live through anything like it again.
“You’re coverin’ for somebody, ain’t you, TJ?”
TJ’s throat worked. Tried to form a denial. Tell one more lie—
“You are. I know you are,” Jesse said.
TJ could feel his piercing stare, as if the cowboy tried to delve into TJ’s memories and see for himself what really happened that horrific night.
Despite Jesse’s sharp perception, TJ couldn’t trust him. Not yet. He hadn’t seen the cowboy since the night Danny died. Why would Jesse speak up now, after all this time?
“Not going to talk about it, TJ?” he asked, his voice quiet, challenging.
“No.”
“Suit yourself.” He studied his cigarette. “We tried to help, though, just so you know.”
“Help who?” TJ’s head swung around. “Me?”
“Yep. Orlin, Ronnie Bennington, Billy Aspen. All of us, we went to see that lawyer Callie Mae’s gone and hooked herself up with.” Jesse took a puff off his stogie and exhaled. “Damn shyster.”
“Kullen Brosius.”
“Yeah, him.”
“You did?” TJ couldn’t hide his surprise.
“We tried to tell him you couldn’t have done it because you were down in the valley with us, racing and drinking beer. We were all ready to swear to it, but he said without evidence, it was our word against the law’s. Like he was bound and determined to see you convicted, didn’t matter what we said. He threatened to have us arrested for harassing him and threw us out of his office after that.”
Stunned, TJ could only stare.
“We would’ve come to the trial and spoke up for you, then, but we couldn’t,” Jesse continued. “Maybe you didn’t know that, either.”
“I didn’t.”
He recalled standing in front of the judge and feeling so damned alone, believing the outfit was too angry with him to bother to come. He’d been tortured from the hurt and contempt Callie Mae, Carina and Penn felt for him, too. He’d endured the trial without friends to assure him they’d be waiting when he got out of jail.
“Why didn’t you come to the trial?” TJ hated asking, but he couldn’t help himself.
“You didn’t hear about the horses?”
TJ shook his head slowly. “What horses?”
Jesse heaved a long, frustrated sigh, a frustration TJ was beginning to feel, too.
“After the new barn burned, we corralled the remuda down in the valley,” the cowboy began. “The day of your trial, we woke up to find someone had kicked the pole fence in, and the herd had hightailed into the hills. We were roundin’ ’em up for three days afterward.”
“You think someone was trying to keep you out of the courtroom?”
“I’d bet my mama’s bible on it.”
“Hell, Jesse.” TJ frowned.
“Now you know.” Jesse ground ou
t the cigarette into the dirt and rose. TJ rose with him. “If you need anything, just ask, y’hear?”
The offer moved him. “Appreciate it.”
“I’d best be going.” He mounted up. “One more thing, though.”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t let Woollie bother you none. Reckon he was as proddy as a locoed steer this mornin’, but he’s always had a heap of respect for you.” He pulled the brim of his hat lower onto his forehead. “Danny meant the world to him, that’s all. So does Callie Mae and—”
“I know.”
TJ had always known. And he understood. They were Woollie’s family in a way that had nothing to do with blood.
“Good enough, then.” Jesse touched a finger to his hat, turned his mount and rode off.
Back to the C Bar C.
Home.
If only TJ could go back, too.
A sharp dose of homesickness landed in the pit of his belly, right along with a new round of hate for what Kullen Brosius had done to him.
The newly built St. Anthony’s Hospital and Sanitarium was a fine-looking, two-story brick building located in the northern part of Amarillo. In his haste to talk to Kullen, TJ didn’t linger to marvel. He tied the buckskin to the hitching post and strode through the doors.
Once inside, however, his step slowed. The facility bustled with patients in wheelchairs and the good Sisters of Charity nuns garbed in their navy-blue habits and starched white wimples. An abundance of windows filled the area with light, but there seemed to be a somber mood about the place.
Maybe it was only the hushed voices and serious expressions on the Sisters, but the feeling was palpable. TJ shook the mood off. His concern lay only with finding Kullen’s room and pulling the truth out of the man’s conniving throat.
He approached an elderly, small-boned woman seated behind a large desk. She made notations in a ledger and appeared absorbed with her work. Noticing TJ in front of her, she gasped in surprise and pressed a blue-veined hand to her breast. Her wide-eyed glance dropped over him, then lifted quickly. She paled.