On The Texas Border

by Linda Warren

  Her eyes sparkled, and a vein worked steadily in her neck. Jonas was captivated by the motion. Abigail Duncan was fire and ice—and everything a man desired. And he wanted her. That was all too obvious by the tightening in his groin. He moved toward the refrigerator to get more water. As he opened the door, cool air washed over his heated body. Oh yeah, that was what he needed. That, and a ton of ice.

  He sucked in cold air and walked back to her. He handed her the bottle.

  As she took it, she said, “I know you think I’m crazy, but…” She took a couple of swallows of water and glanced at the desk her father had occupied. “I can feel his presence in this room, and he doesn’t deserve…” She swallowed and looked at him. “Try to understand. I have to do this.”

  He stared into her eyes and felt himself wavering like a sixteen-year-old—and wanting her with that same ferocity. He could control it. He had before and he would now.

  “It’s time to go home,” he said tiredly.

  She stood, then immediately sank limply into the chair.

  Jonas was instantly at her side. “What’s wrong?”

  “The room’s doing a crazy dance.”

  “Take a deep breath.”

  She did as he instructed. “I’m okay now,” she told him.

  “No, you’re not.” He made a quick decision. “You can’t drive in this condition. Let me get my shoes and shirt, and I’ll drive you.”

  “Okay,” she agreed meekly.

  Jonas was back in record time. She stood, and he took her hand. They walked slowly to his truck.

  When they drove up to her house, Abby turned in her seat. “Thank you, Jonas.”

  The way she said his name made his stomach roll over. He inhaled deeply, knowing he was fighting a losing battle.

  “Can we call a truce?” she asked tentatively.

  He looked at her. “Since we’re thrown together against our wills, it’s probably a good idea. We’ll talk tomorrow about going to Mexico.”

  She seemed about to object, then stopped. “Thank you,” she said, and before he realized what was happening, she reached over and kissed his cheek.

  He drew back as if she’d slapped him. “Don’t do that,” he snapped.

  “Okay, okay,” she said, obviously startled by his reaction. Great, he thought. Now she’ll think I’m repelled by her kisses.

  Jonas got out of the truck. He had to, or he was going to take her in his arms the way he wanted to—and he knew she wasn’t ready for that. Not that she ever would be. Abigail Duncan had no place in his life. He had to remember that.

  In silence he walked her to the front door. She’d left her purse in the file room, so she had to use the key in the flowerpot.

  “Thank you, Jonas,” she said again as she stepped into the house.

  Jonas marched to his truck. He had the urge to gun the motor and burn rubber. But he had outgrown that behavior. He only wished he had outgrown this deep frustration inside him, too. Abigail Duncan was making him crazy.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  WHEN JONAS GOT BACK to the office, he went into the file room and retrieved Abby’s purse and Delores Alvarez’s file. He took them to his desk, locked Abby’s purse in a drawer and sat down. He stared at the file. If he opened it, there was no turning back. So it was time to stop fooling himself. Time to face his lust for Abigail Duncan. For that’s all it was—lust, pure and simple.

  He’d heard Abe talk about her for years. He’d seen her at a distance several times and he’d seen her up close at Abe’s funeral, but he hadn’t actual met her until she’d come to work for Brewster. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Parker,” she had said in a soft titillating voice, and his insides had coiled tighter than an eight-day clock. He’d never met anyone like her. She was beautiful, smart and sophisticated, and so far removed from his world that it was laughable. He’d made a vow right then and there that he’d stay away from her. It had worked…for a while.

  His hand went to his cheek. Dammit, he couldn’t believe how he’d reacted to her innocent kiss. Like a teenager. He wondered what she’d say if he told her he’d never been kissed like that before—gently, affectionately—not even by his mother.

  The moment her soft lips had touched him he’d felt a need that had long been buried under pain and heartache. A need to love someone. He’d had to get away from her as quickly as he could because he couldn’t give reign to those emotions. She wouldn’t understand him or his past. No woman would.

  He fingered the file. If Abby would give up this insane notion of avenging her father and return to Dallas, his life would settle into its usual routine again and he wouldn’t have to deal with his unwelcome feelings. But Abby wasn’t leaving, he knew that. Even after spending hours in a locked room, she wasn’t backing out.

  The door had not closed by itself. Couldn’t she see that? It was dangerous to continue this crusade. But there wasn’t much he could do.

  He opened the file and started to read. Delores lived a few miles across the border. At least her parents did. Since family was important to Mexicans, he’d bet Delores wasn’t far away. That disturbed him. So close, yet she never came back to ask for support from Brewster even after his son had died. Why? If her daughter was Brewster’s heir, why hadn’t she done anything about it?

  Brewster was a bastard and he could be a mean son of a bitch when he was in one of his moods. He might have put the fear of God into her. Still…Jonas had trouble accepting that. Somehow the pieces didn’t fit.

  He decided to call it a night. Maybe after a few hours sleep, he’d be able to think more clearly.

  JONAS WOKE UP with a start. Someone was pounding on his door. He opened one eye and glanced at the clock. Six o’clock. Dammit all to hell, he’d overslept. He was always in the office by five.

  “Mr. Jonas. Mr. Jonas. Come quick,” Juan yelled through the door.

  Now what? he thought as he slipped into jeans and made his way to the living room.

  He yanked open the door. “This had better be important, Juan.”

  “Mr. Stuart wants you,” Juan said, and hurried down the stairs.

  Jonas followed at a slower pace. Stuart Banks stood at the bottom with a worried expression on his face. Stuart was younger than Jonas, but they were friends. Medium height with a spreading middle, Stuart had reddish-blond hair and blue eyes. Jonas spent a lot of Sundays at Stuart and Brenda’s house. He knew Brenda had been a high school friend of Abby’s. He’d often heard her talk about Abby and her success in the big city.

  “I sent Juan to get you,” Stuart said. “Thought you should see this.” He pointed to Abby’s car, which was still parked out front.

  Good God, all four tires were flat. Jonas walked closer and knelt down to inspect one. It had been slashed with a sharp object. Dammit. He stood slowly.

  “Someone has it in for Abby,” Stuart remarked.

  Yeah, that was the gist of it. Jonas pushed both hands through his tousled hair and told Stuart about last night’s incident and Brewster’s deal with Abby.

  “Jonas, what’s going on?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  Stuart frowned. “I can’t believe Abby’s doing this, but I know how she feels about Abe. I don’t think I’ll tell Brenda. She’ll only worry.”

  “Yeah,” Jonas said. “I’d better get dressed, and you go call the sheriff.”

  “Okay, and trucks should be pulling in at any minute.”

  “I know. Let’s try not to get behind. Pull Pablo and Roberto from the fields. We have a full day ahead of us and we’ll need all the help we can get.”

  “Sure thing,” Stuart said, and turned toward the office.

  “Stuart.” Jonas stopped him. “There’ll be a raise on your next paycheck.”

  Stuart’s eyes widened. “How in the hell did you accomplish that?”

  Another deal with Brewster. “Brewster’s tough about some things, but he knows how hard you work around here.”

  Even though he and Stuart were friends, Jonas had never
told him—or anyone—about the deal he’d made with Brewster when he was fifteen. No one knew but Brewster, the sheriff, Mick and Jonas.

  “Thanks, Jonas. With three kids, I can sure use it.”

  Jonas was aware of that. He tried to make sure all the top people had good salaries to support their families. As long as they did, they stayed in Hope, Texas. Jonas didn’t want to lose Stuart or his friendship. So he hadn’t had much choice but to go along with Brewster’s wishes. The smile on Stuart’s face was thanks enough.

  “Call the sheriff, and I’ll be down as fast as I can.”

  Jonas hurried upstairs and dressed for the day. He stared at the telephone. Should he call her? She’d still be sleeping, he reasoned, and after last night she needed her rest. She had to be told what had happened to her car. He’d give her some time, then he’d call.

  As he started out the door, the phone rang. He jerked up the receiver. “Yeah.”

  “Jonas?”

  “Abby?”

  “Yes, you sound upset.”

  He ignored her observation. “I thought you’d be sleeping in.”

  “No, I couldn’t sleep much. Every time I close my eyes I got this suffocating feeling.”

  Tell her. Tell her.

  “I was wondering if I could ask a favor.”

  Through his own indecision he heard the tentativeness in her voice. “Sure.”

  “My mom had to go in early to school. I know you’re busy, but could you pick me up so I can get my car?”

  Silence.

  He knew Abby was waiting.

  “If it’s a bother, I can…”

  He found his voice. “No, no, it’s not a bother. Do you mind if I send Juan over? I have something to do. I’ll be here when you arrive.”

  A long pause.

  “Fine,” she finally said.

  Was that disappointment in her voice? “Abby.”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ll talk to you when you get here.”

  “Okay.”

  She hung up the phone with a strange feeling. Jonas sounded put out. She should have called Earl, but she had this urge—one of those urges again—to see Jonas. Well, she’d get over it.

  JONAS WAS CURSING HIMSELF. He should have told her and he should have gone to get her, but the sheriff wouldn’t be too pleased if Jonas wasn’t here when he arrived. Jonas grabbed his hat and walked downstairs, scowling.

  He sent Juan to get Abby and told him not to say a word about her car. As Juan hurried to his truck, the sheriff drove up. Bob Fisher emerged from the vehicle. He was a tall stout man. His size alone deterred most people.

  Jonas met him at the door.

  “What the hell’s going on, Jonas? Stuart called. He said you got trouble?”

  “You could say that, Sheriff,” Jonas replied, and strolled to Abby’s car. “Ms. Duncan’s tires were slashed last night and she was locked in the file room. I found her about one o’clock this morning.”

  The sheriff removed his hat and scratched his head. “Holy Moses, I guess the rumor I heard is true.”

  “What did you hear?”

  “Brewster wants her to find some daughter he says he has.”

  Jonas didn’t need to wonder where Bob had gotten his information. He hadn’t heard a rumor. Brewster had told him. The sheriff and Brewster were tight. They controlled most of what went on in this small town.

  “That’s about it.”

  “What’s that old man gonna come up with next?”

  “I don’t know,” Jonas said. “But he’s got people jumpy.”

  “I’ll say,” the sheriff agreed. “Don’t touch anything. I’ll get my boys over here to get prints. Maybe someone left a calling card.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Where’s Abby?”

  “She’s on her way.”

  “Good, I need to ask her some questions.”

  As the sheriff was talking on his radio, Juan drove up with Abby. She wore jeans and a pink knit top. She looked wonderful except for the lines around her eyes. She began walking toward him, then she noticed her car and halted. Her hand went to her mouth. Jonas immediately went to her.

  “What happened to my car?”

  “Someone slashed your tires,” he replied, wanting to hold her, to comfort her, but not doing either. The inclination startled him. Those emotions weren’t in his nature. He was a loner. He’d survived by being a loner…never getting too close to anyone. “I called the sheriff,” he added abruptly. “That’s why I couldn’t come get you.”

  Her eyes caught his. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Didn’t think it would do you any good to worry.”

  “I guess not,” she said quietly, and moved closer to her car. “Who would do this?”

  “I was hoping you’d tell me.” The sheriff walked up behind them.

  Abby turned to face him. “Hi, Sheriff,” she said. “I don’t have a clue who would do this to my car.”

  “Jonas says you were locked in the file room last night.”

  “Yes, I was,” she said.

  Two deputies drove up, diverting her attention.

  “Let’s go to Jonas’s office and talk, while my boys do some checking,” the sheriff suggested.

  Before Abby could answer, Juan called to Jonas. “Mr. Jonas, we’ve got a truck backing up to the dock.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Jonas said, then spoke to the sheriff. “I’ll be in the warehouse if you need anything.”

  “You have any idea what’s going on here, Jonas?”

  Jonas’s eyes narrowed with a chilling look the sheriff didn’t miss.

  “Now, don’t get me wrong,” the sheriff was quick to add. “You were scared straight when you were fifteen and I know that hasn’t changed. I admire the man you’ve become. It took a lot of courage to turn your life around. All I’m asking is for a little help. You know this farm and the workers better than anyone.”

  “All I know is Brewster has stirred things up with this absurd story, and Abby’s caught in the middle,” Jonas said.

  “Yep, yep, yep, kinda looks like it,” the sheriff muttered. “Seems someone doesn’t want Brewster to have a daughter.”

  “Seems that way.”

  The sheriff stared directly at him. “You wouldn’t be one of those people, would you, Jonas?”

  Jonas met his look squarely. “You were just spouting what a good man I’ve become. Was that hogwash?”

  “No, I meant it. I’m only testing the water.”

  “Well, test it somewhere else. I’ve got work to do.” With that, Jonas turned and headed for the warehouse.

  “Jonas.” Abby was surprised to find herself running after him. She’d always been an independent person, even when she was little. Now she needed Jonas, and that scared her more than the slashed tires or being locked in a room.

  When he looked at her, she didn’t know what to say. Don’t go. Stay with me. Those words hovered on her lips.

  As if sensing her nervousness, he said, “I’ll be back. Talk to the sheriff.”

  She nodded and moved toward the sheriff, feeling like a fool. A helpless female fool. She didn’t need a man to take care of her. She could take care of herself. So…why was she so afraid?

  For the next hour she talked to the sheriff, while his men took prints off the file room door and her car. She told him Edna Kline had been at the mansion that afternoon and that she and Jules and Darby didn’t like Abby’s involvement with Mr. Brewster.

  The sheriff said he would talk to them. He tried to reassure Abby by telling her that the culprit was probably only trying to scare her. Well, he or she had succeeded. But that didn’t mean Abby would give up the quest to find Delores Alvarez.

  Soon the sheriff and his men left, and Abby went in search of Jonas. She opened the door to the warehouse and stopped. She’d forgotten how huge the place was. Several houses could fit inside it. She shivered—the place was kept at a cool temperature to ensure the vegetables and fruits stayed fresh.
Their pungent scent drifted to her. She remembered that smell from her childhood visits to her father. He’d get her an orange or whatever fruit they were shipping. She’d never tasted anything as good as the fruit she’d eaten during those special times with her father.

  An eighteen-wheeler was backed up to the dock and workers were methodically loading one-hundred-pound bags of onions onto it. Jonas worked alongside them. He swung bags onto a dolly with ease. Obviously that was how he got those muscles, she thought. She was learning a lot about Jonas Parker, and so far, there wasn’t one thing she didn’t like—except maybe the fact that he seemed to be immune to her.

  As the doors slammed shut on the truck, a man sitting in a corner drinking a soft drink got to his feet. He handed Jonas a clipboard with some papers. Jonas signed the papers and gave the man a copy. They shook hands, and soon the big truck was pulling away. Another was waiting in line.

  Abby noticed Stuart giving directions to the truck driver. When he saw her, he waved. She waved back.

  Jonas came over. “How’d it go with the sheriff?”

  “Fine. He thinks someone is just trying to scare me.”

  A worker shouted something in Mexican Abby didn’t catch. Jonas barked a response. A chorus of “Sì, sì, sì,” resounded in the warehouse.

  “Let’s go inside,” he said. “I need water.”

  She got the feeling that the worker’s remark had been about her and that Jonas had put a stop to it. She didn’t ask because she really didn’t care to know. She followed him into the office. He grabbed bottled water out of the refrigerator.

  “Want some?” he asked.

  “No, thanks, I’ve been drinking water all night. I think I’m waterlogged now.”