Mason

by Delores Fossen

  Mason made a skeptical sound and threw open the door. However, he didn’t toss her out. That’s because his oldest brother, Grayson, was standing in the way. He had an armful of clothes, a concerned look on his face and the same cop’s eyes as Mason. And he eyed the grip that Mason had on her.

  “A problem?” Grayson asked, suspicion dripping from his voice. He waited until Mason let go of her before he handed her the clothes from his wife.

  “Yeah, there’s a problem,” Mason verified. “Boone sent her.”

  “He didn’t,” Abbie answered as fast as she could, and she was getting darn tired of that broken-record accusation.

  Grayson looked first at Mason. Then her. “Is that why you’re here at the ranch, because of Boone?”

  “No,” Abbie said at the exact moment that Mason said, “Yes.”

  Grayson gave them a raised eyebrow. “Well, which is it?”

  Both Rylands stared at her, waiting. “Boone doesn’t know I’m here, and he didn’t send me,” Abbie insisted. “He believes he doesn’t stand a chance of reconciling with any of you.”

  “He’s right,” Mason jumped to answer.

  Grayson didn’t voice an opinion, but his expression made it clear that Mason and he were of a like mind. And that meant Abbie was wasting her time and putting them in future danger for no reason. Well, except that she might get some answers from Grayson that she hadn’t managed to get from his brother.

  Abbie hugged the clothes to her chest and looked Grayson in the eyes. “Boone never talked much about all of you, so I don’t know why he left.”

  Mason cursed.

  Grayson lifted his shoulder. “Does it matter why?” he asked.

  Unlike Mason, he actually waited for her to answer. “Maybe.” That required a deep breath. “Something’s wrong.”

  “If he’s dying, then you’d better break the news to someone who gives a flying fig,” Mason grumbled.

  Abbie was about to tell him that Boone wasn’t dying, but she had no idea if that was true. And that made her sick to her stomach. Yes, Mason had a right to be this enraged, but she was already getting tired of it. He was aiming that venom not just at her but also at the man who’d raised her. A man she loved like a father.

  “Get dressed,” Mason said again. This time it was an order, and he grabbed on to the concho and shoved it back into her gown so that it was out of sight. “I’ll drive you into town so you can leave Silver Creek.”

  Grayson had a different reaction. He flexed those previously raised eyebrows. “Someone just tried to kill her,” he reminded Mason. “And that someone likely set fire to the guesthouse with her in it. As the sheriff, I think I’d like to get to the bottom of that first before she leaves.”

  “Boone sent her,” Mason argued.

  “And we can send her back. After the doc checks her out and she answers a few questions.” Because Mason was clearly gearing up for an argument, Grayson tipped his head to the clothes. “Go ahead and change.”

  Abbie considered staying put, considered trying to convince them that she wasn’t there on a mission of peacemaking, but it was obviously an argument she’d lose. On a huff she headed to the bathroom but didn’t shut the door all the way. She needed to hear what the Ryland brothers were planning to do with her. Too bad she couldn’t quite manage that because both lowered their voices to whispers.

  Angry ones.

  Mason was still no doubt insisting that she leave immediately. Grayson had the more level head, and she remembered Boone calling him an old soul.

  Abbie hurriedly changed into loose pants and oversized denim shirt. No underwear, but the flat slipper-type shoes fit. She was ready to face down the enemy, or rather her former employer, until she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Mercy. There was soot on her face. Her hair was a tangled mess, and there were dark circles under her eyes. And then she wondered why she cared.

  Oh, yes. She remembered.

  Mason, and that body-to-body contact. Abbie cursed him. Cursed herself. She didn’t let men get under her skin, and she wasn’t about to start now.

  Steeled with that reminder, Abbie walked back into the main room, only to have both Ryland men stop their whispered conversation and stare at her.

  “So, what’s the verdict?” she came right out and asked. Of course, Mason scowled at her and mumbled something she probably didn’t want to hear anyway.

  “Our other brothers Dade and Nate are out looking for the man who took shots at you,” Grayson informed her. He was all cop now. “Any idea who he was?”

  She shook her head. “It was too dark to see his face.”

  Mason swung his attention in her direction. “What about the man who set the fire? Too dark to see him, too?”

  Abbie ignored the skeptical, snarky tone. “I didn’t see him,” she verified. “In fact, I didn’t see anyone. I only sensed someone was there.”

  “Your senses are good,” Grayson volunteered. “Because I looked at the door that Mason pulled off you. It’d been torn from its hinges. If you didn’t do that—”

  “I didn’t.”

  Grayson lifted his shoulder. “Then someone else did. I’m guessing it was the same man who fired those shots.”

  She guessed the same. Abbie also guessed that his brothers would give it their best efforts in searching for the man. But she also knew there were miles and miles of wooded area surrounding the Ryland ranch. The odds weren’t good. And that put a hard knot back in her stomach.

  “He’ll be back,” she said before she could stop herself. Abbie instantly regretted the admission, but it didn’t surprise Grayson. Perhaps not Mason either. It was hard to tell because his face seemed to be frozen in that permanent glare.

  “Boone didn’t send me,” she reiterated. “And I’m sorry that you’re riled because someone tried to kill me on your ranch.”

  “I’m not riled because of that.” That got rid of the glare. Judging from his annoyed huff, Mason hadn’t intended to ditch the glare, raise his voice. Or show even a smidgen of what had to be a bad temper to go along with that gruff exterior.

  But Abbie hadn’t intended to go the snark route either. “Look, I’m frustrated. Scared. And feeling a dozen other things that you clearly don’t want me to feel. I’m sorry.”

  “Quit apologizing,” Mason snapped. He stared at her. And stared. Then cursed again. “Quit apologizing,” he repeated.

  Like the little arm rub he’d given her earlier, before he’d seen the concho, it sounded, well, human.

  Grayson gave them both a stern glance, especially his brother. “Are you two sleeping together or something?”

  “No!” Mason and she said in unison. Mason shot his brother a look that could have frozen Hades.

  Grayson did some more staring and then made a sound of disbelief. “Then maybe we can concentrate on finding the man who tried to kill you.” He waited until he had their attention before he continued. “I’ve already made a call to Marshal Harlan McKinney to let him know what’s going on, and I’ve put out feelers to find out if Vernon Ferguson’s connected to this.”

  She gave a weary sigh and pushed her hair from her face. “You won’t find a connection,” Abbie assured him. “Ferguson’s too smart for that.” And that reminder caused her to go still. “Ferguson found me awfully fast. I’ve been here at the ranch only three days.”

  “Maybe Boone told him,” Mason instantly suggested.

  Abbie didn’t even have to consider it. “Boone doesn’t know I’m here. That’s the truth. I told him I was visiting a friend in Austin.”

  Mason gave her a flat stare. “So you’re telling us the truth, but you lied to him?”

  “Yes.” She ignored his sarcasm and turned toward Mason. “Did you do some kind of background check on me?”

  Mason probably would have preferred to continue the sniping match, but she saw the moment that he turned from an angry son to a concerned rancher and lawman. “Of course. I use a P.I. agency in San Antonio to screen potential employe
es.” He paused. “I don’t have the report back on you yet.”

  Later, she would curse herself for not realizing that Mason would run such a check. She didn’t have an arrest record. In fact, not many records at all, and that would have perhaps flagged a P.I.’s interest.

  It had probably flagged Marshal McKinney, too, but Abbie had called him right before she applied for the job at the ranch to tell him she might be working there for a short period of time. She’d also asked the marshal not to tell Boone, and McKinney must have complied because Boone hadn’t tried to stop her. And he would have if he’d known she was anywhere near Silver Creek.

  Abbie shook her head and stared at Mason. “So why did you hire me before you got the report?”

  “Because he needed a cutter,” Grayson jumped to answer. “He goes through five or six cutting-horse trainers a year.”

  The muscles in Mason’s jaw tightened. “Because most aren’t worth spit.” Another pause, and he tipped his head toward her. “She seemed to know what she was doing.”

  “Thanks. Your father trained me,” she added, knowing it would cause his glare to return. It did. Not just from Mason, but his brother, too.

  She huffed but regretted that little jab. It was clear she wasn’t going to win them over to her side, so it was best to tell them the truth and hope they’d be willing to do something to help her.

  Abbie took a deep breath before she started. “Something happened about a month ago. I’m not sure what,” she added because it looked as if both Rylands were about to interrupt her. “I know it started when Boone heard the news reports about the senator who committed suicide here in Silver Creek.”

  “Ford Herrington,” Grayson supplied.

  Abbie waited for them to add more. They didn’t. But she’d done her own reading about the senator. He’d confessed to murdering his wife and the Ryland sons’ grandfather Chet McLaurin, before taking his own life.

  “What connection did Boone have to Senator Herrington?” Abbie asked.

  “You mean other than Herrington murdering Boone’s father-in-law?” Mason asked. He was back to being a cowboy cop again.

  She nodded. “Is there something more?”

  Mason shook his head, huffed. “According to Ford, our grandfather was having an affair with Ford’s wife.”

  “Was he?” she pressed, though she still couldn’t see the connection with Boone.

  “Maybe.” And when Mason paused, Grayson took up the explanation. “His wife was having an affair with someone. Ford’s daughter, Lynette, confirmed that. She overheard her mother talking about it before she was killed, and Lynette has no reason to lie, because she’s our sister-in-law.”

  So maybe that was the connection she’d been searching for. But why would a decades-old affair between a senator’s wife and Boone’s father-in-law have such an impact now? Especially because everyone seemed to know about it.

  “Is it possible that the senator’s wife got pregnant and had your grandfather’s baby?” Yes, she was grasping at straws, but she had to find what had set all of this in motion.

  Mason lifted his shoulder. “I suppose she could have gotten pregnant, but she didn’t give birth. No time for that. From the time line we’ve been able to come up with, Ford killed her only about a month after the affair started.”

  Well, there went her secret-baby theory.

  “Boone got upset when he saw the news reports about the senator’s suicide,” she added. “And he followed the story like a hawk. I’d never seen him like that, and since then he’s been secretive. Agitated. He even hired a P.I., and he won’t tell me why.”

  The brothers exchanged concerned glances. “What’s your theory?”

  Abbie had to take a deep breath. “I suspect something bad happened to Boone all those years ago. Something bad enough to cause him to walk out on his family.”

  “And what would that be?” Mason’s tone wasn’t quite as lawmanlike as it had been for his other questions. The emotion and old pain were seeping through.

  “I’m not sure,” Abbie admitted. “But a week ago I heard him talking to someone on the phone. I don’t know who, but it could have been the P.I. I only caught pieces of the conversation, but Boone mentioned the ranch. And all of you.”

  “Us?” Mason challenged.

  She nodded. “I think he was worried about your safety.” Mercy, she wished she’d heard more of that call. “He also said something else.”

  “What?” Mason pressed when she paused.

  Abbie tried to repeat this part verbatim. “Boone said the past was catching up with him and that it wouldn’t be long before someone came to kill him.”

  Chapter Five

  Mason listened to every word that Abbie said, but it took a moment for her bombshell to sink in.

  “Who wants Boone dead?” Mason asked. “Other than me, that is.”

  There was a flash of annoyance in her eyes. Probably because she felt he was being too hard on her surrogate daddy. He wasn’t. There wasn’t such a thing as too hard when it came to Boone Ryland.

  “I don’t know who wants him dead,” she insisted. “But I could tell from his voice and body language that the threat was real.”

  Hell. This was not a turn that Mason wanted. It might not even be true, but just the fact that Abbie had tossed it out there meant it would have be investigated. Not by him. Well, not unless he learned that Boone had been the one to cause the fire and the gunman.

  Then Boone would have to answer for it.

  Grayson shook his head. “If Boone thought someone was trying to kill him, why would he let you out of his sight?”

  It was a good question, especially considering Boone had chosen to raise this woman and she seemingly had such a high opinion of him. Mason only wished he’d thought of the question first. He couldn’t let the past and Abbie’s vulnerable eyes cloud his head.

  Too late, the little voice inside him mumbled.

  Mason would make it his mission to prove that little voice wrong.

  “Like I said, I lied to him,” Abbie explained. “Boone thought it would be a good idea if I disappeared for a while and put some distance between him and me. He wouldn’t say why,” she quickly added. “He seemed relieved when I told him I was going to Austin for a month, but I didn’t dare tell him I was coming here, or he would have tried to stop me. He knows none of you want contact with him, directly or otherwise. I just wanted to find out why he might be in danger.”

  So if Abbie was telling the truth, and Mason thought she might be—about this anyway—then Boone was in some kind of danger and he didn’t want that spilling onto her. Clearly, he loved his foster daughter a heck of a lot more than he’d loved his sons.

  But that didn’t surprise Mason.

  “I need to do some checking,” Grayson finally said. “If the fire and the gunman are connected to Boone, then I’ll have to ask him some questions.”

  Mason waited for Abbie to object. She didn’t. Strange. Mason had thought she might try to come up with a good reason why Grayson shouldn’t do that. Mason was certainly trying to come up with one. He didn’t want Grayson or anyone else in the family to have any contact with the man.

  However, the alternative to questioning Boone wasn’t a good one: the possibility of continued danger and threats on the ranch.

  Grayson looked at him. “I need to wrap up some things with the fire chief and check on Nate and Dade.”

  Good plan, but Mason knew if his brothers had found the gunman, they would have called.

  “Why don’t you go ahead and take Abbie to the main house? The doctor will be here soon,” Grayson suggested. Mason wasn’t sure what Grayson saw in his expression, but it caused him to add, “She’s just the messenger, Mason. She didn’t cause Boone to walk out on us all those years ago.”

  Abbie looked both uncomfortable with that reminder and a little relieved. Of course, if she was telling the truth about all of this, she would no doubt want them to leap headfirst into saving Boone.

/>   That wasn’t going to happen.

  Unless…saving his sorry butt would mean keeping the family safe. But Mason was a long way from believing that.

  “Come on,” Mason told Abbie, and he started out of his office and toward the main house. He kept his gun ready, just in case, but he doubted the gunman would make a repeat appearance tonight.

  “You think this is a smart move?” Abbie asked, catching up with him. “I don’t want the gunman coming to the house.”

  “Neither do I,” Mason assured her. “It’s the safest place on the ranch. It has a security system with surveillance cameras.”

  And some areas of the grounds had cameras, too. As soon as he had Abbie tucked away in one of the guest rooms, she could wait for the doctor and he’d check the surveillance feed to see what he could find out about the gunman.

  About Abbie, too.

  “Your family isn’t going to like my being there,” she mumbled. She followed him along the crushed-limestone walking path that would take them directly to the back porch.

  Mason couldn’t disagree with that. They wouldn’t like it. But they wouldn’t turn her out. Not tonight anyway. If he found out she’d told him another lie, even a single one, then he would toss her out himself.

  “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” Abbie added. “I figured I’d come here, get some answers to save Boone and then leave.”

  “Guess you figured wrong, huh?”

  But Mason immediately regretted that dig. Yeah, they’d been jabbing at each other since she’d spilled the beans about Boone, but it wasn’t helping matters. There was no way Abbie could ever understand how Boone had ripped his sons to pieces and then turned his back on them. And that led him back full circle to a question he just had to ask.

  “Boone knew about my mother’s suicide?”

  There was enough illumination from the security lights and the house that Mason could see the answer on Abbie’s suddenly stark face. “He knew. He didn’t talk about it, but I heard him mention it once to my mother.”