by Janet Dailey
“Listen to me,” he said. “I love you, too. And if I had my way, there’d never be a reason to let you go. But you have to stay clear of me. If we’re seen together, that will only strengthen the case against me and damage you, too. People could claim that I killed your father to get my hands on you and the ranch, and that you went along with it.”
Her dismayed expression told him he’d finally gotten through to her. “Oh, Luke!” she said. “That’s awful! So unfair!”
“But it could happen. You know it could. We can’t let it.” He stood, took her hand, and pulled her up to face him. “All we can do is hope the person who killed your father is found and arrested soon. Once that happens, maybe we can move on to whatever’s next.” He lifted her hand to his lips, planted a kiss on her palm, and closed her fist around it. “Now go. Behave as if there’s nothing between us. Get through the funeral. Focus on running the ranch. You might even want to go out with Kyle if he asks you. Time will pass, and we’ll get through this. All right?”
“All right.” She took a few steps toward the front door, then stopped and turned back. Their eyes met—and suddenly she was in his arms again, clinging to him, returning his hungry, desperate kisses. For a long moment, he held her close, memorizing the feel of her eager body against his, every sweet curve and hollow. He wanted her like a drowning man wants air—wanted to touch and kiss every part of her, to be inside her, feeling that warm, moist silk around him. But it wasn’t going to happen. Not now. Maybe not ever.
Gently he eased her away from him. “Go,” he ordered her. “Go before you get us both in trouble. I love you, Erin.”
“And I love you. Whatever happens, Luke, I’ll always love you.”
Tearing her gaze away from him, she left.
* * *
“So when are you going to see your girl again?” Hunter Cardwell demanded. “You can’t wait too long. With her father gone, she’s going to need a man. That man had damn well better be you.”
Kyle nodded as he finished his beef stroganoff and crumpled his napkin next to the dinner plate. It seemed his father always used mealtimes as an occasion to harangue him. Mostly he closed his ears to the tirade, but right now Hunter was making sense. Erin had been putting him off. He needed to call her, make some excuse to see her again, and take things from there.
“Don’t worry, Dad, I’ll figure something out,” he said. “Erin’s been pretty busy, and she’s grieving for her father. It’s not exactly a good time to ask her out on a date.”
“Hell, it’s the best time. She’s vulnerable. She needs comfort. That’s when you make your move.”
“I said don’t worry, Dad. I’ll call her.”
“Have you heard any more about the investigation? Is that farrier still the prime suspect?”
“How should I know?” Kyle shrugged, relieved that his father had changed the subject. “From what I heard, they let him go after that deputy was shot and killed.”
“But the bastard could still have done it. It could just as easily have been somebody else who shot the deputy.”
“That’s my guess, too,” Kyle said. “At least the sheriff must still be keeping him around. His rig’s still parked at the Rimrock.”
“You’ve been to the Rimrock?” Hunter asked.
“Just drove past, that’s all. Somebody’s got to keep an eye on the place. Might as well be me.”
“Fine.” He turned to his wife, who sat at the foot of the table. “Damn it, Vivian, there’s a food smudge on this spoon. How many times do I have to tell you to rinse the silver ware before you put it in the dishwasher? What if we had company? Lord, I’d be embarrassed to death!”
We never have company, Kyle thought, but he knew better than to speak up.
Kyle’s mother didn’t answer. Since Will Tyler’s death had come on the news, she’d seemed to shrink into herself. Kyle suspected that she’d had a thing for Will. But if she had, it had been nothing more than a harmless crush. She would never have been bold enough to act on her feelings—although if she had, he wouldn’t have blamed her.
Hellfire, he couldn’t wait to get out of this house and away from his shitty parents. Right now, marrying Erin sounded like a great idea—big house, control over a ranch, and doing all the things with Erin that he’d done with that blond whore.
He would have to work on that—and he would start by giving Erin a friendly call.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
DEPUTY ROY PORTER’S FUNERAL WAS HELD TWO DAYS LATER. MOST of Blanco Springs’ citizens turned out to honor their fallen hero, killed in the line of duty. Officers from other local branches of the law formed a procession to accompany the casket to the cemetery. Though it wasn’t a military funeral, a bugler from the high school band played taps at the graveside, leaving folks dabbing at their eyes.
Kyle had invited Erin to attend the service with him. Since they had both known Roy, she’d seen no reason not to go. It wasn’t really a date. They would be out in public. And being seen with him, especially by the sheriff, would help quell the idea that she was still involved with Luke.
As they stood with the crowd at the graveside, a few yards behind Roy’s distraught parents, Kyle kept a possessive grip on her hand. Erin let him. It was a show—a lie for the sake of appearances. She didn’t like herself much right now, but she would do anything to protect the man she loved.
She blinked away a tear as Roy’s casket was lowered into the grave. It was against all justice that a promising young man should lose his life in such a senseless way.
Erin had known Roy since the year she was in kindergarten and he was in first grade—a nice boy, quiet and well behaved. Once when she’d dropped her library book, he had picked it up and handed it back to her. Otherwise, they’d had little direct contact, but Roy had been there. She’d watched him grow up, change from a gangly, freckled boy to a polite young man. He’d been an Eagle Scout and played baseball, though he’d never been a star. She couldn’t recall his ever having had a steady girlfriend. Only when he’d joined the county sheriff’s team as a deputy did he seem to have found himself. Roy had clearly loved being a cop. And now he was gone.
Life was a throw of the dice. Some people got what they wanted, whether they deserved it or not. Others had to settle for what they had. Still others, like Roy, got everything snatched away just as they were about to grasp it.
Life was a gamble. Not death. Death took everything.
The medical examiner had released Will’s body to the mortuary in Lubbock. The funeral would be held two days from now. Maybe when she saw him laid to rest, next to her mother, the reality of her father’s death would sink home, and she’d be able to move forward. Now it was as if he’d just left the house, and she was waiting for him to come back.
People were walking away from the grave now, headed for their cars. Kyle was still clasping Erin’s hand when the sheriff approached with a purposeful stride.
“Erin, I just wanted to check with you.” Cyrus Harger was never one to waste time on polite chitchat. “Is Luke Maddox still at the Rimrock?”
Erin pulled her hand away from Kyle’s. “He is. He’s been working, shoeing our horses to get them ready for the roundup.”
“Any trouble from him?”
“Absolutely none. He keeps to himself, minds his own business. Why? Is everything all right? Have you learned any more about who shot Roy and my father?”
“You’re assuming it was the same person. Abner thinks the sonofabitch who broke into the Blue Coyote and shot Roy had known about the inside stairs, maybe from years ago, but not about the door at the bottom. He got trapped in the stairwell and, when Roy showed up, he had to shoot his way out.
“The motive at the Blue Coyote was robbery. Shooting Will was a whole different can of beans. The killer knew him, and had reason to want him dead. Sounds to me like two entirely different crimes, committed by two different people.”
Erin’s heart contracted. So Luke was still a suspect in her father’s murder.
The sheriff might even be planning to lock him up again.
“Luke had nothing against my father,” she said. “He had no reason to kill him.”
“That’s not what I heard,” the sheriff said. “Going by what those two cowpokes told me, you and Luke must’ve had something pretty hot going on.”
Erin was conscious of Kyle standing next to her, hearing every word. She could sense the tension in him, hear the rush of his breathing.
“That’s not true, Sheriff,” she said. “Luke and I were friends. We liked each other. But it’s over now. He left the ranch because he didn’t want to cause trouble for me. By the time my father was killed, Luke was miles away.”
“So he says. But he can’t prove it.”
Desperation surged. “Why are you so set on Luke? Ask Sky about his cousin, Marie Fletcher. She’s out of prison and hasn’t checked in with her parole officer. I took a photo of a boot print I found near the ranch. Sky thinks it’s hers.”
The sheriff brushed away a fly that had settled on his mustache. “Roy did mention that to me. I’ll look into it.” His cell phone rang. “We’ll take this up again later,” he said, turning away to answer the call.
Kyle caught her hand as they walked to the beat-up ranch pickup he was driving in place of the wrecked SUV. His grip was hard and possessive, his mouth a thin-lipped line. He didn’t speak as he opened the door of the cab to let her climb in.
Erin waited as he walked around to the driver’s side. Maybe this was a bad idea, riding home with him. Last time he’d been angry with her, he’d almost gotten them both killed. The sheriff should have waited to speak with her alone, but Cyrus Harger was about as sensitive as a buffalo bull at a tea party.
Kyle didn’t speak until the truck was on the road out of town. “What were you thinking, Erin, cozying up to that pile of trash? I thought you had better taste.”
Erin knew better than to defend Luke. “I told the sheriff it was over. If that isn’t good enough for you, that’s your problem. You don’t own me, Kyle Cardwell.”
He drove in silence for a couple of miles, probably wondering how to put their relationship back on the right track. Finally he gave her a smile.
“You always did have an independent streak,” he said. “But you’re going to need more than that to run the Rimrock. You’re going to need a man by your side—a man who knows the business. I’ve got an associate degree in ranch management, and I’ve worked with my father for years. I’m practically his right-hand man. I know everything there is to know about running a ranch.”
“Are you suggesting that I hire you?”
“Funny girl. No, I’m suggesting that you marry me.”
She should have known where this was leading. Erin sighed. “We’ve been down this road before, Kyle. I’m not ready to get married—not to anyone.”
“I know what you said. But that was before your father died.” He turned down a side lane that wound between drought-parched hay fields and branched off. The main branch cut back to the highway. The other, which Kyle had chosen to follow, ended in a thicket of willows, fed by a mucky seep. The place was known as a popular teenage make-out spot. But this time of day, it would likely be deserted.
Erin stirred uncomfortably on the worn bench seat of the old pickup. “My father raised me to take over the Rimrock and run it,” she said. “I never planned on losing him so soon, but I’m ready to step up and do my job. That’s what he’d expect of me.”
“But you’ll be alone.” Kyle pulled the truck under the willows, far enough that the branches hung like a curtain over the windshield. “You may know a lot about cows and horses, but people will try to take advantage of you. They’ll try to win your trust so they can manipulate or cheat you. You’ll need a man to protect you and help you make decisions.” He turned toward her in the seat. “If you’ll let me, I can be that man.”
His look roused Erin’s wariness. She’d always been able to manage Kyle and stop him from going too far. But something about him had changed. The familiar eyes that gazed at her had taken on a predatory gleam. Suddenly, without knowing why, she was uneasy.
“Let me show you the man I can be,” he said. “Let me show you what I can do. You’ll like it—women always do. And when we’re married, we can do it all the time.”
Alarm flaring, she edged toward the door. “I don’t want to stay here, Kyle,” she said. “Start this truck and take me home.”
“Not until you’ve given me the chance to change your mind.” He reached for her, his hand clasping her arm, jerking her toward him. “No,” she said. “I’m saying no—hear me?”
She began to struggle, trying to thrust him away, but he was stronger than she was. He shoved her down on the seat. The black sleeveless dress she’d worn for the funeral fastened down the front. His free hand grabbed a fistful of fabric and yanked. A button popped off, clicking as it struck the dash.
“No! Stop it!” She twisted like an eel, trying to get away as his hand slid up her leg. She’d worn sandals, with no stockings. His touch on her inner thigh triggered a surge of rage and fear that she hadn’t felt since her kidnapping six years ago. Her knees jabbed but missed the vital target.
He laughed. “Stop fighting. It’ll be great! You’ll see!”
“You idiot!” She ground out the words between her teeth. “You stupid, stupid jerk!”
Fury gave her strength. She worked an arm free, doubled her hand into a fist, and slammed it hard into his eye.
He yelped and swore, reeling backward and holding his hand to his eye. Erin used the instant of distraction to grab the door handle, shove the door open, and tumble out onto the soft, muddy ground. By the time Kyle had recovered enough to climb out of the truck, she had scrambled to her feet, ducked under the wire fence, and was running across the field, toward the main road.
At first she was afraid he’d come after her. He was faster and stronger than she was, and between her sore ankle, her flimsy sandals, and the rough ground, she knew she wouldn’t get far without needing to stop. But evidently Kyle had had enough. As she ran, stumbling every few steps, she could hear him shouting across the distance.
“It’s that bastard Maddox, isn’t it? You’ll be sorry, you lying slut! Both of you!”
Erin made it to the road and began walking along the rim of the bar ditch. Her knee was skinned, her feet were raw, and one sandal had a broken strap, and she was still about ten miles from the ranch. In the blistering sun, with no water, she’d pass out before she made it. Her only hope was that someone would come along and offer her a ride.
If only she could call for help. But she’d left her cell phone at home in her purse. Beau had gone to Lubbock to make the final funeral arrangements. Sky was on the mountain, and Rose had borrowed the station wagon to take some measurements on her land. At least Carmen might be home to take a message and get her some help.
But without her phone, none of that made any difference. She felt like a helpless fool. Maybe she should just find a shady spot and wait. Sooner or later, somebody was bound to come along. Only neighbors and townspeople drove this way. She’d be fine, as long as it wasn’t Kyle.
But what if it was? What would she do?
She was struggling with that question when she heard the faint throb of an engine coming from behind her. Turning, she could see the glint of sunlight on polished metal. No, it wasn’t Kyle. The truck he’d borrowed today was old and red. This was a newer pickup, a blue one.
Deciding to take a chance, she stood by the roadside and held up her thumb.
The blue truck, which she couldn’t place at first, slowed down. The glare of the sun on the windshield hid the driver’s face from view. But when the passenger door opened and a deep male voice said, “Erin, are you all right? Get in,” she felt reassured. Only as she climbed inside the air-conditioned cab and closed the door behind her did she recognize her good Samaritan.
It was Hunter Cardwell, Kyle’s father.
She huddled on the seat, painfully
aware of her muddy knees, her broken sandal, and the missing button on her dress. Whatever he must be thinking, it couldn’t be much worse than the truth.
He gave her a worried glance as he drove. “What are you doing out here, Erin? Lord, you could have died of heat stroke if I hadn’t come along. There’s water in a cooler behind the seat. Grab yourself a bottle. Then you can tell me what happened.”
Erin reached back and found a water bottle, twisted off the cap, and took a long drink. The cold liquid, spilling down her hot, dry throat, sent a shudder through her body.
“Better?” he asked.
“I think so.” She’d been aware of Hunter Cardwell for as long as she’d been dating Kyle. But they’d never really interacted until now. He was a handsome man, even better looking than his son. But she sensed an almost feral quality about him, an air of unpredictability that set her on edge, especially now.
She did not want to be here.
“So tell me what happened, Erin,” he said. “I thought you were with my son.”
“I was.” No, she couldn’t tell him the whole story. “We . . . uh, had a fight. I told him I could find a ride home. I was wrong.”
“That was foolish, Erin. Alone out here in the heat, anything could have happened to you. What did Kyle do to make you leave him like that?”
Squirming inwardly, Erin looked down at her hands. “Oh, just the usual thing, acting like he’s qualified to run my life. I won’t be treated like a child.”
“So why did you act like a child and run off? You’re a nineteen-year-old girl, Erin. You need somebody to look after you and manage your affairs now that your parents are gone. Kyle is very capable—he even has a degree in ranch management, and he’s been working with me for years. More important, he loves you. All he wants is to make you happy.”
Something clicked in Erin’s mind. The man sounded just like his son—same argument, even some of the same words. Was it a coincidence, or was something darker going on? Whatever it was, she wouldn’t let this man think she could be controlled.
