A Cowboy to Keep Read online

  He pressed his lips together and strove to hear his own thoughts over the sudden drumming of his heart. “Who was Smiley with?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Ain’t seen him before. Evan somethin’ or another.”

  “Evan, or Everett?”

  She shrugged. “Could be either, though now that you say it, I think Everett sounds right. Tried not to pay him no mind. A dangerous-looking man. Cold. Real cold.”

  In a flash, the room receded, the walls, the floors, the roof, as he peered backward to the night his brother lost his life. He saw the two men who’d concealed their appearance with hoodies and scarves on that cold winter night. Pictured the names of the strangers listed on a local hotel registry that night. One in particular, Everett Ridland, had been a suspect in connection with another murder. The name, an alias, turned out to be another dead end.

  “Where’d you bring them?”

  “Shawnee.”

  “What’s there?”

  “Smiley works at Mountain Sky Dude Ranch sometimes. Could be he intended on asking them for money...” Her voice trailed off like the last air from a deflated balloon.

  Jack straightened. He’d gotten everything out of her he needed...and more. The chances he’d finally locked onto his brother’s killers rose. “Thank you kindly, ma’am.” He handed her his card. “You call me if he turns up, now.”

  Her hands shook as she snatched the card from him and backed away. “I told him. I said, ‘Smiley, I don’t want no part of any of your shenanigans. Leave me out of it.’ So you’re saying I’m going to lose my house?”

  Jack shook his head. “Not if I get him first.”

  “Good luck,” she called after him, then she shut the door fast, before he’d even stepped off the porch.

  A couple of hours later, he drove through a darkened Shawnee and kept on going until his headlights illuminated the stone pillars holding up an arch that read Mountain Sky Dude Ranch. He glanced at his dash. Midnight. A good time to scout the property. The season wouldn’t have started yet, so no one should be up and about. He didn’t want to explain his presence to anyone in case Smiley or Everett—if it was Everett—got tipped off. His phone call to the owners had gone straight to voice mail.

  Leaving his truck, he vaulted over the gate and slipped through the trees. A crescent moon hung low in the star-studded sky. Moving quickly but stealthily, he skirted a pasture of horses, careful not to get too close and spook any. When a number of them lifted their heads and neighed, he froze. Could Smiley and his partner hear that?

  After a moment, he glided through shadows and headed for a hay barn. When he grabbed the latch, the unmistakable metallic slide and click of a bullet being chambered behind him sounded.

  Reacting on instinct, he ducked, whirled and pointed his gun directly between the prettiest hazel eyes he’d ever seen.

  CHAPTER TWO

  DANI CRAWFORD NEARLY dropped her rifle when the lethal-looking prowler turned. Their eyes met, a dark promise in the depths of his, and her heartbeat thudded in her ears at his intent, hard-bitten expression. A scar snaked from the top of his left eyebrow, reappeared below his lower lid, slashed his high cheekbone and dipped to his full mouth.

  A deadly badge of dishonor, by the look of it.

  Some vicious fight he’d survived.

  What’d the other guy look like?

  Probably rotting in a grave.

  A shiver slithered down her back at her fanciful imagination. Strands of hair blew in her face as the wind whistled across the hilly land and coyotes yipped in the distance.

  “Hands up!” she ordered, sounding as tough as a gal could while standing barefoot in a tank and sleep shorts. Hopefully her rifle was doing the intimidating.

  To her relief, her intruder placed his pistol in the grass and slowly straightened to a goliath height. His muscular, tattooed arms, revealed by a fitted black T-shirt, pointed at the new moon. His predator eyes never left hers and bumps rose on her exposed skin.

  She should have grabbed a robe and sneakers. Searched out one of the ranch’s rare cell phone signals since she didn’t have a landline.

  The moment she’d heard the horses and spotted someone moving on her employer’s property, she’d grabbed her gun and pursued, her cell phone shoved in her pocket. She would not—could not—let anything jeopardize the ranch that’d become a second home to her, a haven from her troubled past.

  And now she stood alone with the most dangerous-looking man she’d ever seen. Her employers were hundreds of miles away, buying a new horse for the stable she managed. Her staff didn’t arrive for the new season until tomorrow. Would he know that? Was that why he’d come? She should have listened to her friend Ray’s admonishments to stay in town when she’d stopped at his bar earlier. Her tongue darted out and licked her dry lips. His gaze dropped to her mouth, lingered, then rose again.

  “Didn’t mean to disturb you, ma’am.” His husky baritone seemed to move right through her skin, wrap around her chest and squeeze the air out of her like a python’s embrace.

  “What’s your business here?” she asked, her heartbeat and her breath running wild.

  He shrugged broad shoulders, something in the deceptively casual move making her even more fearful. His long, denim-clad legs suggested speed and agility; his flat abdomen, wide chest and lean waist screamed strength. Still. She had the gun. Was in charge of the situation. Yet his calm, relaxed demeanor raised doubts about who was really in control.

  He acted like having a gun pulled on him happened every day.

  Maybe it did. She studied the hard planes of his face.

  “Just passing through.”

  “You should have called if you wanted a tour,” she said evenly. Her pulse throbbed at the base of her throat.

  The right side of his mouth curled, the easy expression putting her on the defensive just as much as his gun had. Maybe even more. “Prefer doing things on my own.”

  “That right,” she drawled, weighing her options, fear making her bones shake.

  Calling 911 wasn’t an option, even if she could get a signal. She’d avoided law enforcement since running from her Oklahoma-issued arrest warrant six years ago. Officers asked too many questions. Might connect her to the worst mistake of her past. Were within their rights to extradite her... She tamped down the horrible, nightmare thought.

  He gazed at her steadily. “So. Are you shooting me? My arms are getting tired.” He rolled first one, then the other shoulder. Didn’t look bothered a bit.

  And that bothered her a lot. Time to throw this fish back in the stream, much as she’d like to get to the bottom of his visit. Since an access road to the Pike National Forest crossed the property, sometimes disoriented stragglers turned up. It’d be naive of her to think a man like him would get lost, though. An armed man...

  Keep him talking or get rid of him? Seeing as she was alone, she’d go with the latter.

  “Where’s your vehicle?”

  “Outside the gate.”

  “Let’s go.” She nodded toward the entrance, down one of the dirt paths crisscrossing the property. It passed the two-story main lodge and the corral where they brought saddled horses for daily expeditions.

  “I need my gun.”

  Her eyes widened. “Not on my property.”

  “I need my gun.” His tone sounded easy as ever, yet steel had entered it. An implacable quality that suggested a man used to getting what he wanted.

  “Then you shouldn’t have dropped it.”

  He lowered his head and peered at her from beneath his brows. “I’m not leaving without it.”

  “If we agree that leaving on a stretcher is an option, then go for it.” She didn’t even try keeping the sass out of that one. In the oddest way, she enjoyed the tightrope feel of this conversation. Recognized it f
rom the days she’d run with the wrong crowd until that fascination had come back to bite her. Hard.

  But she wasn’t the kind of woman who enjoyed that sort of thrill anymore... Resentment rose at the glimpse of her old self. She’d worked too hard to start over, to become a better person, to ever go back to the way she’d been.

  He rolled his eyes skyward and his chest rose and fell. “Ma’am. I have no quarrel with you. Let me have my gun and I’ll be on my way.”

  She blew out a breath. “Kick it over here.” He did, and the Glock skidded to a stop at her feet. “Don’t move unless you want your head blown off.” At his nod, she snatched it up and straightened, her rifle still trained on the trespasser. “I could shoot you. It’s the law.”

  “But you won’t.” He lowered his arms and crossed them.

  There was a breathtaking silence as that sank in. Her mind raced wild along its trail. “How do you know?”

  “You ever shoot a man?”

  Heat crept up her neck. She willed herself not to turn red like she always had, growing up, when caught out. “Have you?” she challenged, and lifted her chin. Tried looking tough. Lord, she hoped she looked tough.

  He gazed at her steadily, and she clamped her teeth together. Swallowed hard.

  He sauntered closer and she stared, mesmerized, the way a hare does when cornered by a western rattler. With a small push, he nudged her rifle barrel down. She breathed in the pure male scent of him. Not so much unwashed as worked hard. It made her nostrils flare. Her palms began to sweat. He wasn’t a man to tangle with.

  “I want my gun.”

  His words snapped her out of her trance and she backed up a few steps. Her mind turned in circles. She was fooling herself to think she had the upper hand here. Time to level the playing field. She tucked her rifle under her arm, pulled back the Glock’s slide to remove the chambered round, yanked out its magazine and tossed the empty gun back.

  He caught it neatly with one hand. “Thank you, ma’am. I’ll see myself out.”

  “I’ll be right behind you.”

  His eyes gleamed. “And here I was, thinking you didn’t like me,” he said, and there was the corner of a grin there, bitten back as he holstered his gun.

  Arrogant bastard. “I like your back. Intend to watch it as you go.”

  His low chuckle made her flush again and then he strode away without a backward glance. Pebbles grazed the bottoms of her feet as she hurried after him, slightly dizzy. Off-balance. Bats called, up in the dark air. A clump of aspens leaned in the wind, intent, watchful. The rush and whisper of them roared in her ears.

  At last they reached the gate and her fingers trembled on the keypad.

  “No need.” He scaled the fence and dropped neatly on the other side. The moonlight glinted on his white teeth as he smiled. “Thanks for the tour.”

  He tipped his hat and she watched him go. Studied the shadows long after they’d lost sight of him, too. She gripped the gate’s metal bar when her knees turned wobbly.

  What had he wanted? Not to harm her, it seemed.

  Would he come back?

  Given her past, she wasn’t in any position to be spending time with dangerous men. But, suddenly, she wanted to know more about the scarred man who both frightened and fascinated her.

  She gave herself a mental kick and headed back to her room behind the stables.

  Bad boys.

  She’d more than had her fill of them and wouldn’t let another occupy her thoughts. Not when the last one nearly destroyed her life. Not when, with her recent promotion to stable manager, she’d finally achieved the security that’d let her put her past behind for good.

  The stranger’s striking face returned to her as she slipped under the covers. She punched her pillow. Hopefully she’d never see him again.

  She wasn’t so sure her resolve would be up to the test.

  * * *

  JACK’S CELL BUZZED beside his plate of hotcakes the next morning. He nodded to the Shawnee Diner waitress holding a coffeepot, slid his mug to the edge of the table and brought the phone to his ear. It was a three-cup morning. He’d been up since four hanging flyers for his bail jumper, adrenaline jittering through him at the thought that he might be on the trail of his brother’s killers—and the redemption he desperately needed.

  “Jack.”

  “Mr. Cade, this is Diane May, owner of Mountain Sky Dude Ranch. I’m sorry we didn’t return your call last night. My husband forgot the charger and...” At a gruff throat clearing, she switched gears. “Anyways, how can we help you?”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the approaching server. She crept forward, her expression wary. She looked ready to bolt at any sudden movement. He held still. Funny how that pretty gal last night hadn’t seemed the least afraid of him. He smiled inwardly as he recalled her sass, her humor, her bravado. “I’m a bounty hunter looking for a fugitive who’s worked for you.”

  A gasp sounded, followed by, “A criminal? One of our workers? Who?”

  Murmuring rose on the other end and Jack kept his face averted out of habit when his waitress poured the coffee then scuttled behind the counter. The cash register dinged as the joint’s only other customer checked out. A banjo and fiddle mingled in a broadcasted bluegrass tune.

  The small restaurant must have been retrofitted from one of the old train cars that ran through this area once, he mused, waiting for someone to come back on the line. Its old-time booths rose high and pressed against small windows. Scuffed wood floors ran the length of the narrow space. An antique mirror reflected the space from behind the polished counter.

  “Mr. Cade, this is Larry May,” came a man’s voice. “What’s going on?”

  He glanced down the length of the empty restaurant. At the opposite end, the waitress leaned on the through-window and gossiped with the cook. No one to overhear.

  “I’ve got a Failure to Appear warrant for Bill ‘Smiley’ Reno. He’s accused of drug possession and is a person of interest in a murder case.” Steam curled from his black coffee. Using the side of his fork, he cut through his short stack.

  “Smiley? I think there’s some kind of mix-up. One of our groundskeepers goes by that nickname, but his name’s Ned Terrill. He’d never do anything like that.”

  Butter and syrup melted on his tongue as he finished chewing and lowered his fork. “Ned Terrill’s an alias.” A phone shrilled on the counter and the waitress picked it up. Outside, a passing pickup honked at a couple of teenagers smoking beside the sidewalk’s geranium-filled planters.

  “Can’t be. He showed us a driver’s license. Social Security card, too.”

  “Fake.” The bitter black coffee stung the inside of his cheeks as he gulped.

  He waited for the man’s sputtering to fade and ate more of his breakfast as he eyed the blue sky that domed over the small city. A good tracking day; he needed to get back on that ranch fast. A picture of the dainty woman who’d confronted him last night came to mind. She’d bristled like she stood ten feet tall; the image made him grin. It was a damn unfamiliar feeling.

  “Who can we contact to verify your information? I don’t mean to be rude, but this is a bit of a shock. We’ve known Smiley for years. Our employees are like family.”

  “Don’t mind at all.” He supplied Mr. May with contact info for Randall Cook and Lance, hung up and went back to eating. Sympathy for the couple rose. Most folks didn’t have much experience with the seedier side of life. They took people at their word. Saw the good since they hadn’t experienced much of the bad. His gaze drifted to his cell, willing a fast callback. It was eleven o’clock. Half the day gone and he didn’t want to waste more.

  He crunched on a bacon slice and recalled how he’d been held at gunpoint by their caretaker last night. Impressive for a civilian... Not that her bold move would deter him
from returning and catching his man—or men.

  The woman had grit, and she’d piqued his interest nearly as much as this case had. Still, he wasn’t about to chase after romance as well as outlaws. He needed to focus on this case, not get sidetracked. His mission was about justice and putting bad guys away—not about finding personal happiness he didn’t deserve. Until he caught his brother’s killers, his own life would take a backseat. It didn’t begin to pay the debt he owed, but it was a start.

  Plus, a face like his induced nightmares, not dreams... Strange how she’d stared right at him and hadn’t seemed put off. In fact, she’d gotten in his face, challenged him and he’d liked it. No denying that.

  His cell vibrated.

  “Mr. May.”

  “Yes. I, uh, talked to Sheriff Covington, who spoke highly of you. I reckon what you’re saying about Smiley is true, although you left out the part about there being two people wanted on that murder.”

  “It wasn’t my news to share. Do you know anyone who goes by the name Everett Ridland?”

  A pause, then, “Nope. Doesn’t ring a bell. You think that could be the other fellow?”

  “It’s possible.” He didn’t say the unspoken...that if Smiley had a job at Mountain Sky Dude Ranch using an alias, so might Everett. But what would tie them to the property? “Is it all right with you if I look around the place for the two men? His family says they dropped nearby a couple of days ago.”

  “My stable manager’s up there alone, Jack.” Larry’s voice grew muffled and he heard him tell his wife to start packing.

  “I believe I met her last night. Thought a late-night look-see might be a good idea until she pulled a rifle on me.”

  A chuckle rumbled through the phone. “Sounds like Dani.”

  “Dani...” Jack prompted, absurdly curious for her full name. The way she’d been filling his thoughts all morning was aggravating, his anticipation to see her again undeniable.

  “Dani Crawford. A Texas gal. Used to be a competitive show jumper. We met her through our son, Ben, who was on the same tour. Sure wish he was here. I’d like his opinion on this, but he’s away on business in some rain forest and we can’t reach him. Maybe you’ve heard of his company? Therm Tel? They work with alternative energy.”