The Cowboy's Deadly Reunion

by Cindy Dees

  The interior ceiling and its massive beams gleamed a warm golden color now, and the sanded and refinished plank floors had been stained to match. Slate flooring had been laid in the bathrooms and kitchen, and shower tile was curing before it could be grouted.

  She spent Saturday turning a series of carved poles she’d found in a closet into curtain rods. Wes had created them and they were probably walking sticks, but they were far too beautiful to take outside and ruin, thank you very much. She hung the new curtains using cast iron rings and stood back to admire the effect.

  Her laptop dinged an incoming email, and she went over to check it. Officer Demoyne had sent her something. Stomach tight, she opened the email.

  It turns out the threatening email to you was sent from a proxy server in Billings, Montana. It’s my best guess that whoever sent you that threatening email has nothing to do with the guy who roofied you. I confirmed today that he’s still here in the DC metro area.

  Billings, Montana? Jessica’s blood ran cold. Whoever was threatening her was close. So, as she’d suspected, those gunshots on the road hadn’t been random. Someone had deliberately tried to kill her. All hope, however far-fetched, that it had been a prank or a mistake of some kind evaporated.

  She sat down heavily on the lone kitchen chair she’d left for Wes.

  The back door opened and she looked up bleakly. Wes stepped into the remains of his kitchen and stopped abruptly, looking chagrined. “I thought you left already,” he mumbled.

  “I’ll leave now,” she replied glumly.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She lifted her gaze to him. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. What’s wrong?”

  “I just got a message from the police. A threatening email I got was sent from Billings, Montana. It couldn’t have come from the guy who drugged me at the party in Washington.”

  “What threatening email?” he exclaimed.

  “The one I got a few days ago.”

  “What did it say?”

  “Nothing much. Just, I’m coming for you soon. I know where you are, and you’ll die. The usual stuff you’d expect in a threatening note.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Wes demanded.

  “Because it’s not your problem.” She shrugged. “The police officer I talked with doesn’t believe the guy from the club is stalking me. Which means whoever’s after me probably doesn’t have anything to do with you. You’re in the clear.”

  “If it wasn’t that guy, then who shot at you?” Wes demanded.

  She shrugged, feeling defeated. Helpless, even. “I have no idea. Apparently, I have enemies I’m not even aware of.”

  He took a quick step forward as if to hug her, but then checked himself, stopping in the middle of the space. Of course he stopped. He hated her guts.

  She picked up her purse, tucked her new laptop under her arm and headed for the door. She paused long enough to say tiredly, “The crew has the day off tomorrow, so you won’t have to hide from me. We’ll be back Monday midmorning. The flooring guys will be refinishing these beautiful, hand-scraped pine floors. Your cabinets should be done being refinished next week. The cabinet guy still had to build a couple of new cabinets because of the reconfiguration of the kitchen, too. He’s hoping to finish those this weekend. But after that, the granite counters can go in. There’s been a delay on your kitchen appliances, but I’ll try to have a more or less functional kitchen for you by the end of next week.”

  It was just so darned exhausting trying to keep up a good front all the time, especially for Wes, who could read her so easily and well.

  She climbed into the Jeep she’d leased for the next several months while a Corvette specialist in Bozeman did more work on repairing and restoring her car. She barely made it out the front gate of the Outlaw Ranch before she had to pull over at the side of the road and rest her forehead on the steering wheel, blinded by tears that filled her eyes but refused to fall.

  Her entire life she’d been petted and adored, first by her father and then by her friends, teachers and, well, pretty much everybody. And now, the one person whose opinion she cared about judged and despised her. How could her life go so far off track so fast? She wasn’t a bad person, at least not intentionally.

  Even walking into the calm comfort of the hunting cabin a little while later failed to make her feel better. She ate something from the freezer and microwave without registering any taste at all, and then she flopped on the couch, facing yet another lonely Saturday night with only her regrets for company.

  She dealt with her misery by going to bed at barely eight o’clock and escaping into sleep. It was the coward’s way out, but she’d had a really rotten week.

  * * *

  Wes stared up at the gorgeous new vaulted ceiling in his bedroom as sleep eluded him. Moonlight filtered in past the sheers Jessica had hung behind the new curtains, which were made of a pale tan burlap. The silvery moonlight played with shadows cast by the heavy wood beams crisscrossing overhead. The room felt twice as large now and had a stately quality to it that he reluctantly admitted was great. She knew his taste, and he couldn’t complain about the new, raised stone hearth for his fireplace nor about the thick Navajo rugs on the hardwood floors or the overstuffed armchair and ottoman beside the window.

  The new double-paned windows with handmade wooden frames didn’t rattle in the wind at night anymore, which was a blessing, too. They’d driven him a little crazy over the long winter just past.

  Yup, his bedroom had been transformed into a gracious but masculine space where he could unwind and relax after a hard day’s work. And every inch of it reminded him of Jessica, no matter where his gaze landed in the space. She had touched or transformed every square inch of it.

  What was he going to do about her, anyway? She had all but accused him of being in love with her in one breath, and then had called him a hypocrite in the next. Was it even possible to be both? More to the point, was she right?

  His heart had about jumped out of his chest when he’d come into the house and spotted her this afternoon. He wanted to tell her how much he liked the things she was doing to the house, but the words of praise had refused to come out of his mouth. Was he really that petty?

  He fell asleep thinking about what she felt like in his arms and woke up the next morning imagining making love to her. He groaned and tried to get back to sleep, but to no avail. Irritated as hell at himself and at her, he got up, fed the cows and stomped out to his workshop to do a little carving.

  His finger was healing enough for him to start using his whittling tools again, and he needed to take out his anger on a good piece of wood, forcing it into the shape in his mind.

  His cell phone rang at noon, startling him out of the concentration he often lost himself in when he was creating a piece of carving. It was the ranch phone number. If it was Jessica bugging him one more time about some detail having to do with his house, he was going to scream.

  “What?” he snapped into the phone.

  “Since when do you take that tone with me, young man?” his mother snapped back. “You’re late. Have you forgotten about dinner at the main house today?”

  “Crap. I didn’t realize what time it was.”

  “Everyone’s here. I’ll hold the meal until you get here,” his mother replied sternly.

  Which was Mirandaspeak for he had better get his butt over to her house ASAP. He tossed down his tools and headed out. He loved his mother, but he would always be a little intimidated by her. She was a fierce woman as strong as the mountains she’d grown up in.

  He barged into the kitchen of the big house about five minutes later and pulled up short at the sight of Jessica and his brother, Chase, laughing at something Chase’s fiancée, Anna, was saying. “What’s she doing here?” Wes demanded.

  Chase looked up, his gaze
narrowed in warning. “She’s my future wife.”

  “Not Anna. Jessica.”

  Chase smirked. “The way I hear it, she’s your future wife.”

  Wes rounded on Jessica to rip her a new one, but she’d gone pale and looked fully as horrified as he felt at Chase’s gibe.

  He turned back to his older brother and snarled, “Am I going to have to take you out back and kick your ass, or are you going to keep a civil tongue in your head and not embarrass Mother’s guest?” For there was no question at all who had invited Jessica to a family dinner. Miranda was famous for interfering in every Morgan’s personal business.

  Chase’s smirk widened into a grin. “A mite touchy, are we, little brother?”

  Wes told Chase where he could go and how he could get there, in the most succinct and impolite of terms.

  Mild-mannered Anna started to laugh and then announced, “Wow. You really do have it bad for her, don’t you, Wes?”

  He glared, but knew better than to say anything rude to her. Chase hadn’t been a Special Forces soldier for nothing, and the guy was lethal in a fight. Wes didn’t relish pissing off Chase enough to actually provoke a fistfight or even just a wrestling match.

  He glanced over at Jessica and was gratified to see her face flushed scarlet with embarrassment. Good. At least he wasn’t the only one bothered by the jokes about the two of them.

  John Morgan strode toward him and Wes braced himself. The two of them might have declared a silent truce over Number 19 and her calf, but there was no animal in distress to buffer them now. “Glad you came,” John said gruffly.

  Whoa. Miranda must have hog-tied him and threatened him within an inch of his life to get the Old Man to be that civil to his errant son. Their last fight, when he’d gotten home, disgraced and ejected from the Marines, had been epic.

  Wes nodded back stiffly.

  John turned to Jessica, and Wes was shocked to see his father’s gruff expression fade into a fond smile. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you how much I like what you did to the cabin, young lady. Next time Miranda kicks me out to cool my heels in the barn, I’m heading up there to lick my wounds.”

  She replied, “Well then, I guess I’d better lay in a supply of good scotch up there.”

  Jessica smiled warmly at his father, and she was so dazzlingly beautiful that Wes actually staggered a little. She’d been so somber and unhappy around him recently that he’d forgotten just how magnificent she was when she expressed joy. She lit up a room, even a big one like his parents’ great room.

  Anna looped her arm in Jessica’s and led her away. Wes strained to hear what they were talking about and was surprised to hear that Miranda had hired Jess to freshen up the entire main house. Jessica was describing what she was planning to Anna, who listened raptly.

  Wes realized with a jolt that he was listening raptly, too. And he didn’t give a flying flip about color palettes and accent pillows. He spun away, scowling.

  “What’s up, Wes?” Chase asked quietly, holding out a beer to him.

  “Mom hates it when we drink on Sunday.”

  “It’s after noon. She’ll get over it.”

  Wes took the beer and tossed back a long slug.

  “You got problems with your girl?” Chase asked.

  “She’s not my girl.”

  “But you want her to be,” Chase commented. “Don’t deny it. You can’t take your eyes off her, and she practically glows when she looks at you.”

  Wes huffed. “It’s complicated.”

  “Always is with the good ones.”

  He shot his brother a candid look and was surprised to see sympathy in Chase’s eyes. His older brother clapped him on the back. “You might as well give in, now. It’s no use fighting them when you love ’em. They always win. Haven’t you figured that out after growing up with our mother?”

  “Anna’s nothing like Mom.”

  Chase laughed heartily. “And yet, she’s got me wrapped round her little finger. I’ll do anything for her. Anything.”

  Wes stared. “Really? Like what?”

  “She’s got me helping plan our wedding. Do you have any idea how many kinds of wedding invitations there are?” Chase rolled his eyes. “I thought it was a piece of cardboard with the date and time on it. Have you ever heard of a save-the-date invitation?” He shook his head in disgust.

  “I had no idea you’d fallen so far, bro,” Wes replied sympathetically. “Sounds like you’ve lost your man card for good.”

  Chase grinned. “Yeah. But I found Anna.”

  Wes just shook his head.

  They strolled over to the long dining room table, and Wes wasn’t the least bit surprised that Miranda had maneuvered the seating arrangement so he was beside Jessica. His mother hadn’t put an extra leaf in the table, either, so Wes was sitting elbow to elbow, knee to knee with Jess. He was close enough to smell her gardenia perfume. The scent never failed to remind him of old money, beach estates and fast cars.

  An image flashed through his head of Jessica in dark sunglasses with a silk scarf wrapped around her head, wearing white leather gloves, driving her vintage Corvette with the top down. She had looked like a movie star from the 1950s. It had been the day they’d taken a road trip to the coast. The sun had been shining, the salt smell of the sea mingling with her perfume. They’d had a picnic and too much wine and ended up making love on the beach. Yeah, that had been a damned near perfect day.

  Jessica did know how to live each moment to the fullest, that was for sure.

  “Earth to Wes, come in,” she murmured beside him.

  He looked up, startled out of the memory, which was secretly one of his all-time favorites.

  “Your mother just asked you if you like what I’m doing to your place.”

  He glanced down to the foot of the table. “Jessica’s doing a fantastic job on my place.” He added wryly, “I’m just worried she won’t stop with the house.”

  “What do you mean?” Jessica interjected.

  “I’m afraid I’m going to walk out to the barn one morning and find the damn thing wallpapered and curtained and accessorized.”

  Everyone laughed, but he caught the brief look of hurt that passed through her eyes. Beneath the talk and clatter of dishes passing around, he murmured, “I didn’t mean anything by that. I was just joking. We kid each other a lot in this family.”

  She nodded, but he frowned, not convinced she’d forgiven him. He forgot sometimes that she’d grown up with just her father for family. Poor kid.

  Why did he give a damn if he’d hurt her feelings, anyway? If she couldn’t take being teased a little, she surely wouldn’t last long in his family—

  Whoa. Time-out. He didn’t want her to last long in his family!

  Cripes, the woman tied him in knots.

  Scowling, he ate in silence, letting the banter and discussion of Chase and Anna’s upcoming wedding flow around him without touching him.

  He should have known Miranda would try to throw him and Jess together. He should have turned down today’s dinner invitation, except it was lonely in his nuked house after Jessica left.

  He’d been okay before she’d come, but now the place echoed hollowly. He occasionally caught a whiff of gardenia or found a paper with a scribbled sketch on it in her handwriting. Even her sketches were talented, conveying artistically what she wanted workmen to do, be it installing a hearth or hanging the new wrought iron chandelier where the kitchen table was going to go.

  Each reminder of her caused him actual physical pain. His gut tightened like someone had reached into his body, grabbed a fistful of his innards and given them a good, hard twist.

  “Are you okay?” Jessica whispered, startling him.

  “Yeah.”

  “You looked like you were in pain.”

  “I was.”

  “
Are you sick?” she asked in quick concern. “Or is your finger hurting?”

  He glanced down at the bandage on his finger. “It’s fine. Doc says I can take the tape off tomorrow.”

  “That’s wonderful! Can you go back to carving?”

  He threw her a sheepish, sidelong look. “Already did.”

  “Wes—”

  He cut her off, muttering urgently, “Don’t tell Doc Cooper. And, for God’s sake, don’t tell my mother.”

  Jessica smiled fondly down the table. “Miranda’s great, isn’t she?”

  He blinked, taken aback. “Are we talking about Miranda Morgan? You didn’t have to grow up with her. She’s a terror.”

  “I didn’t have a mother at all. You should be grateful for her, even if she can be a bit of a mama bear. She loves all of you guys immensely.”

  “True. But she’s an inveterate meddler. Take you being here today and conveniently seated beside me.”

  “She means well.”

  He harrumphed.

  Miranda looked over at him, an eyebrow raised, and he smiled lamely at her. No need to cause a scene when he and his father were just starting to bury the hatchet after their last falling-out. The fastest way to piss off John Morgan besides dissing the United States Marine Corps was to upset his wife.

  The meal ended, and Chase invited Anna out to the horse barn to see the new foal that had been born a few days ago. Miranda bred champion quarter horses and had some beautiful specimens in her barn.

  Wes looked over at Jessica reluctantly. If she thought calves were cute, wait till she got a load of a foal. “You wanna go, too?”

  “Will you come with us?” she asked hopefully.

  He sighed. “Yeah, sure. The alternative is to get drafted to do the dishes with Mother and suffer through an interrogation from her.”

  Jessica chuckled. “I’m glad to know that I rate higher than slave labor and hostile interrogations.”

  “Just barely,” he allowed drily.

  They followed Chase and Anna, who walked ahead, their arms twined around each other. It was hard to look at. The pair were a vivid reminder of what he lacked in his life. Since when was he all hot and bothered about finding a woman and settling down, anyway?