Homicide at Whiskey Gulch

by Elle James

  “I liked it when you wrapped your arms around me,” he said. “But I find I like wrapping my arms around you even better.”

  Another rumble of thunder reminded them of the impending storm.

  Trace stared into the distance at the dark clouds building on the horizon. “Much as I enjoy being alone with you, we’d better get back to the others. I’m thinking we have less than an hour before that storm hits.”

  Lily nudged the horse’s flanks and reined him toward the open gate. Once they were through, Trace leaned down and pushed the gate closed.

  Free of the barn and out in the open, Dusty took off, galloping across the field, his legs stretching out, eating the distance between the barn and the people working the hay.

  Trace held on tightly around Lily’s waist.

  She loved the strength in his arms and the solid wall of muscles he pressed against her back. If only they didn’t have to haul the hay, she’d keep riding, without a care for the future and what might happen next.

  All too soon, they reached the others.

  Rosalynn was just finishing baling the last row of loose straw. She parked the tractor at the end of the field and climbed down, walking toward the truck.

  Lily aimed Dusty toward the tree line for a place to tie him up where he could be in the shade and still graze while they loaded hay.

  After a brief squeeze, Trace slipped off the horse, landing nimbly on the ground. He held up his arms for Lily and helped her from the saddle.

  Irish waved at them and nudged his horse toward where they were standing.

  Trace took the reins from Lily and tied them to a low-hanging tree branch.

  He was just turning back toward Lily when she heard a rustling in the trees.

  Lily spun toward the sound and ducked low.

  She couldn’t see anyone moving in the shadows, but the rustling continued, and a loud snort sounded close by.

  Her heart stopped. If that sound was what she thought it was, she had seconds to get the heck out of there.

  “Run!” Trace yelled as he pulled the pistol from his holster and aimed it toward the spot where Lily stood.

  For a nanosecond, Lily froze. Then she launched herself from the position where she had been standing and ran out into the open. The truck and tractor were too far for her to make it fast enough, so she ran toward a hay bale, wishing it were a heavy round bale instead of an eighty-pound rectangle that wouldn’t provide any protection from what was hiding in the woods.

  The sound of feet pounding against the ground behind her made Lily run faster.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Trace take careful aim.

  The blast of a gunfire sounded.

  Lily dived behind the hay bale and crouched, pulling her body in on all sides, out of sight of what was chasing her.

  Another shot rang out and the sound of something crashing hard against the earth brought her head up and she dared to look over the top of the bale.

  Lying in the dust and hay stubble was a gigantic feral hog with wicked tusks. It heaved a last breath and lay still with two gunshot wounds to the heart.

  Lily collapsed against the bale, her knees trembling, her pulse still thundering through her system.

  Trace hurried toward her, running past the hog to gather her into his arms. He held her for a long moment. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “Thanks to you.”

  Irish rode up on Lady, his rifle in one hand, the other managing the reins. “Wow. That was some good shooting. That hog didn’t look like he was going to stop for one tiny bullet.” Irish slipped from the saddle and walked around the dead animal. “Should be some good eating. Anyone fancy ham for dinner?” He glanced at Lily. “You all right?”

  She nodded from the reassuring comfort of Trace’s arms. “I am.”

  “I would have fired the rifle, but you were in direct line of fire from where I stood. Trace had to get him, or...”

  “Or the hog would have gotten me,” Lily said softly.

  “He didn’t,” Trace said and smoothed a hand over her hair. “And Irish is right. That hog will make good eating.”

  “That’s right,” Rosalynn said, joining them. “Better us eating him than him gouging one of us.”

  Matt trotted toward them from the direction of the truck and trailer. “You guys all right?”

  “Yes,” Trace assured him.

  Irish grinned at Lily. “I’ve never seen anyone run so fast.”

  “A good thing she did. That hog wasn’t far behind her,” Matt said. “I’m glad he didn’t catch up with you.”

  Irish winked. “That’s right. We need all the help we can get loading the rest of that hay.”

  Lily appreciated that they all were rallying around her. But the wall of clouds was nearing, and they still had half a field to load onto the trailer and get to the barn before the skies opened up and dumped rain on them.

  Another, louder rumble of thunder caught everyone’s attention.

  “We’d better get back to work,” Rosalynn said. “Lily and I can stack the hay.”

  “Let’s do this. We don’t have much time,” Trace said. “I can already smell the rain.”

  Lily sniffed the air. She, too, could smell the earthy dampness of the weather system moving toward them. She and Rosalynn climbed up on the back of the trailer.

  Matt and Trace tossed the bales as high as they could, and Lily and Rosalynn moved them into neat rows, layering them carefully so they held in place as the layers grew higher. Trace threw the last bale up onto the trailer and climbed up after it. “We don’t have time to tie it down. You two go on back to the barn. I’ll ride back here with the hay to make sure nothing starts sliding off.”

  “We stacked it in crisscrossing layers,” Rosalynn said. “It’ll hold. Ride up front with Roy and Matt. I’ll take the tractor.”

  “And I’ll ride Dusty,” Lily said. She didn’t offer but left it open for Trace to suggest he ride double.

  Trace frowned at the tall stack of hay. “If you’re sure it’ll hold, I’ll go with Lily in case there’s another hog hiding out in the underbrush.”

  Lily let go of the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and ducked her head to hide her smile. She was glad he would be riding double with her. Especially after he’d saved her from the charging hog.

  Roy drove the truck and trailer to where the hog lay. Matt tied a rope around the animal’s back legs and to the back of the trailer. They would drag it back to the barn, where they could field dress it and process it for the freezer.

  Lily shivered as she passed the hog.

  “You were smart,” Trace said. “You moved fast.”

  Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I would not have been fast enough to outrun that thing,” she said. “You’re the reason I wasn’t mauled or killed.” She turned to him. “Thank you.”

  Trace pushed a hand through his hair, his gaze searching the undergrowth, as if expecting another feral hog to jump out. “I’m glad I was here, and that I had a gun.”

  “Me, too.” Lily untied Dusty’s reins from the tree branch and looped them over the saddle horn.

  Trace cupped his hands and bent low.

  “You know I can reach the stirrup, don’t you?” she asked, her lips twisting in a wry grin.

  He looked up at her, his face serious. “Humor me, will you? I almost lost you to a hog today.” Not a smile curled the corners of his lips, and there was no twinkle of laughter in his eyes. The man appeared to be years older than he’d looked at the beginning of the day.

  Lily nodded. “Okay, then.” She placed her foot in his cupped hands and pushed up until she could swing her leg over the saddle.

  She moved her leg back, giving him room to place the toe of his boot in the stirrup.

  He swung up behind her.

&n
bsp; “You could have ridden in the saddle,” Lily said. “I don’t mind riding behind.”

  “The stirrups are fitted to the length of your legs. Besides, I’d rather have your back as we return to the barn.”

  Lily frowned, her mind working through what he’d just said.

  He had her back. Meaning, if someone shot at her, he’d get Trace first. Trace would take the bullet, instead of her.

  Her hands tightened on the reins and her pulse sped. “Trace, I don’t like—”

  He leaned into her back, his lips brushing her earlobe. “Don’t go getting your panties in a wad. Give the horse his head. He’ll get us back to the barn in no time.”

  “But—”

  Trace squeezed his legs against hers and dug his heels into the horse’s flanks.

  Dusty leaped forward, got the bit between his teeth and took off at a full gallop across the field, headed for the barn and his dinner.

  Lily was glad the horse raced across the field. Maybe if he went fast enough, and with Irish bringing up the rear, they wouldn’t take a bullet. Now that Trace was back, Lily didn’t want anything to happen to him. Heck, the man had fought in the Middle East through several deployments. He couldn’t die back in Texas on his own property. That would be all kinds of wrong. And Lily couldn’t live knowing he was gone.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Trace held on to Lily as the horse loped across the field. They caught up with and passed the truck hauling the trailer full of hay and arrived at the barn with enough time to remove the saddle and run a quick brush over Dusty’s sweaty coat before the others got back. Trace stepped out of the barn as Lily led the horse into a stall and the truck stopped in front of the barn.

  Irish rode into the yard and slipped out of the saddle to stand on his feet. He squatted several times and rubbed his backside. “Those are some muscles I don’t use that often,” he said, grimacing.

  Trace grinned. “I know how you feel. If you don’t ride on a regular basis, one day in the saddle will make you sore for a week.” He grabbed a bale of hay and carried it into the barn. Between him and Matt, they got started on unloading the trailer.

  Lily joined in, carrying the eighty-pound bales a little slower, but she didn’t complain or sit it out. She worked hard alongside the men.

  Trace’s mother entered the barn and started to lift a bale.

  Trace took the bale from her hands. “Mom, you’d serve an even greater purpose if you feed us when this is all done.”

  She nodded and touched a hand to the small of her back. “But that rain is almost here.”

  “If we have to, we can back the trailer into the barn to keep the hay dry,” Trace said. “You’ve already helped more than you should.”

  “What you mean is for an old woman.”

  Trace shook his head. “You’re anything but old. Still, you need to take a break. We can handle the rest.”

  “He’s right, Rosalynn,” Lily said as she grabbed another bale and carried it over to the foot of the stairs leading up to the loft. “We’re going to be starving when we’re done here.”

  “You should go help her,” Trace said.

  Lily snorted, her brow dipping. “And let you two have all the fun? No way.” She came back for another bale. “I will, however, let you guys carry these bales up the stairs to the loft.”

  “Deal,” Trace said. “Mom, let Irish walk you into the house. I know for a fact he’s great at peeling potatoes.”

  “Hey, are you volunteering me for KP?” Irish stood in the open doorway to the barn. “I am pretty good at it.” He grinned. “Then, at least, I won’t have to stand out in the lightning.” He tipped his head toward the southwest. “It’s almost here. You have about fifteen minutes before the rain starts.”

  Lily carried bales to the bottom of the stairs while Matt and Trace took turns carrying them up into the loft. Working as a team, they had the trailer unloaded in less than twenty minutes. Lily carried the last bale into the barn as the sky opened up and rain poured down.

  She stood at the door and sighed. Any way she looked at it, if she stepped out of the barn, she’d be drenched in the first five steps. Getting to the house would be very wet.

  Matt and Trace joined her at the door.

  “We could wait until it lets up,” Matt said.

  Trace shook his head. “It’s predicted to last all night. And I’m hungry.” He patted his flat abdomen.

  “Me, too.” Lily rolled her aching shoulders. “We worked hard.”

  Matt grinned. “Got it done.”

  Trace glanced at the massive hog lying in the middle of the barn. “We might as well dress this hog. No use getting a shower until that’s done.”

  “You’ll need something to put the meat in.” Lily grabbed an empty paper feed sack and lifted it over her head. “I’ll be right back with containers and freezer paper.”

  “Grab an extra knife while you’re at it,” Trace said. “I’ll watch until you get to the house.” A crack of thunder rattled the rafters of the barn. “On second thought...you stay here. I’ll go get what we need.”

  “I’m not afraid of a little lightning,” Lily said, ready to go out into the storm. She didn’t stand around arguing. Instead, she dashed out the door before Trace could grab her and insist on her staying in the barn.

  “Damn it, Lily,” Trace called out.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said over her shoulder, sure he wouldn’t hear her anyway. Not with the rain pounding down on the metal roof of the barn.

  Considering she had been hot and sweaty by the time she’d finished unloading the trailer, she should be thankful for the drenching rain to cool her off. The only problem was being able to see as she ran through the deluge. When she finally made it to the porch, she stopped long enough to squeeze the water out of her hair. Too wet to enter the house, she poked her head through the back door and spotted Trace’s mother at the stove. “Rosalynn.”

  The older woman spun, a spatula in her hand. “Oh, my goodness,” she said. Turning the flame down beneath the pot simmering on the stove, she hurried over to where Lily dripped on the tile. “Come in, dear. You’re not going to hurt the floor.”

  Lily shook her head. “I’d rather not. We’re going to process the hog. I need supplies.”

  Rosalynn nodded. “I know just what you’ll use.” She hurried around the kitchen gathering items from drawers and the pantry, stuffing them in a large canvas bag. When she was finished, she returned to Lily. “Let me take it out there. You need to come in and get a shower.”

  With a smile, Lily relieved the woman of the bag. “No use you getting wet, too. We’ve got this. Between the three of us, we should be able to take care of things quickly.” With the straps of the bag looped over her shoulder, Lily headed back the way she’d come, pausing briefly at the edge of the porch as a bright flash lit the darkness and an answering rumble of thunder rattled the eaves.

  Taking a deep breath, she ran down the stairs and across the backyard to the barn. She didn’t care that lightning struck nearby. She only wanted to be close to Trace.

  * * *

  TRACE AND MATT strung the hog from one of the rafters and started the process of rendering it for consumption.

  They worked in silence.

  Trace didn’t want to like his half brother, but the man worked hard and efficiently, without complaint. And he was prior service. A marine.

  “Why did you get off active duty?” Trace asked, curious about this man with whom he’d have to share the Whiskey Gulch Ranch or sell it.

  “Injury,” Matt said. “Wrecked my knee. I’ve since been given a new one, but medical boarded off active duty. Your—our father came to my rescue when I returned to Whiskey Gulch. I didn’t know what I was going to do with my life without the military. I was good with car engines, but not much else. He set me up with my own shop, loaned
me the money to get started and told me I could pay it back in my own time.”

  “Generous of him,” Trace said. “He never wanted me to do anything but ranching. Blew a gasket when I announced I was going into the army.”

  “Should have gone into the marines,” Matt said with a grin. “He might not have been as mad.”

  “Whatever,” Trace muttered. “He liked to have control of his corner of the world.”

  “And you didn’t like being controlled,” Matt concluded.

  “That about covers it.” Trace worked the hide away from the hindquarters.

  Matt helped by pulling back while Trace cut. “Was Lily one of James’s control issues as well?”

  Trace bristled. He didn’t want to discuss Lily with this man. “Let’s just say he didn’t approve.” His tone was deep and tinged with anger.

  Matt held up his hands. “Sorry, dude. I didn’t mean to stir the hornet’s nest. But you need to know, there never was anything between me and Lily... We were friends. Only. She hung out with me for a week, came to my house once to watch a game, and once you were gone, she never came back to hang out.”

  Trace frowned. “Why would she tell me that she was marrying you?”

  Matt shrugged. “Did you ask her?”

  “No.”

  The other man chuckled. “Seems like that would be your first stop.”

  Trace snorted. “Getting a straight answer out of her can be a challenge.”

  “One worth taking on,” Matt said. “She’s a smart, hardworking and beautiful woman.”

  The more Matt talked, the more Trace wanted to punch him. He straightened, his eyes narrowing. “Look, she’s—”

  “Off-limits?” Matt shook his head. “Have you told her that? You’re going to mess up and lose her if you don’t do something about it. I think your boy, Irish, has a thing for her.”

  “Irish is harmless,” Trace muttered and went back to work on the hide.

  “Maybe he is. Maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about.” Matt pulled at the hide. “Irish himself said that Lily was just the kind of woman he’d want to marry.” Matt lifted his shoulders. “He could have been kidding or just making a statement. Maybe you need to open your eyes to what’s right there in front of you.”