by B. J Daniels
Jake’s plan was to lose just enough money that they invited him back. The worst thing he could do was fleece these men, especially LJ. So he played smart, winning a little, losing more.
The whole time, LJ watched him as if he really did expect him to deal off the bottom of the deck. At one point, he had a full house, aces and jacks. He knew he could take the pot. It was a big one.
When everyone but LJ folded, Jake had to fight a burning desire to take his money. He stayed in just long enough to make LJ sweat and then he folded.
As the deputy reached for Jake’s cards, curious to see what he’d had, Jake shoved them deep into the discarded pile. No one but LJ seemed to notice what he’d done. He could feel the deputy studying him with suspicion. Jake knew he would have to be more careful next time. If there was a next time.
Hutch won a little money and seemed to relax as the evening progressed.
When the game finally broke up, it was late. He’d sized up the men at the table by the way they played poker and had a pretty good idea who to question about Frank.
Several of the men were headed for First Street Bar across the alley, but Hutch declined, saying he had to get home. Jake held back to talk to Bob Christianson, a shy rancher who’d played conservatively all night.
“What happens if you lose more than you can afford in this group?” Jake asked.
Bob shot him a look. “They won’t let you do that.”
“They let Frank Anson.”
The rancher stared at his boots and sighed. “Everyone in this group knows why you’re in town.” He slowly raised his gaze. “I have nothing against Monte McClintock. I don’t even care that he raises bison. But people are upset over Frank’s death. You need to be careful asking about Frank.”
“Careful is my middle name.”
Bob shook his head. “Son, I saw the way you play poker. For whatever reason, you could have taken that last pot and you didn’t. I don’t know what you’re up to—”
“I want to find out who killed Frank. I don’t believe it was Monte. I’m guessing that Frank was a poor poker player.”
Bob seemed to hesitate. The others had gone out into the alley. Jake could hear them discussing the bar, the weather, their good and bad hands tonight. The man slowly zipped up his down coat before looking at Jake again. “Frank lost more than he won and couldn’t pay up.”
“Who’d he lose to the most besides Hutch?”
Bob seemed surprised that Jake already knew that. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, hesitating again.
Jake could hear the others outside breaking up, some going home, some headed for the bar. Time was running out. Herb would be anxious to lock up.
“I’m sure you’ve already figured out who the weakest player is.” LJ Fraser, the sheriff’s son. He’d paid a little visit to LJ’s place outside town. It had been easy enough to take a peek into his barn. As expected, he found the Appaloosa horse he’d seen the day of the bison stampede.
“You have a nice night,” Bob said and turned and walked out.
Jake followed, thanking Herb as he started toward for his pickup.
“If you’d like to come back tomorrow,” Herb called after him, “same time. Same place.”
“Same group?” he asked.
“Pretty much.”
Jake gave him a nod and continued to his pickup. He wouldn’t mind playing Deputy LJ Fraser again. The man was dangerous because he was reckless. Hutch lacked skill whereas LJ was overconfident to a fault.
He could see either of them getting angry and shooting Frank. But what would they have gained by doing that? They still wouldn’t have gotten their money. So why do it? There had to be more to Frank’s murder.
* * *
ALLIE HEARD THE sound of a vehicle and moved to the door, where she kept Frank’s old shotgun loaded and ready. She recognized the pickup that pulled in. She’d been expecting him, knowing he would come in darkness.
As she watched Hutch Durham climb out of his truck and look around, she picked up the shotgun and opened the door.
At the sound, he turned, his eyes narrowing. “Not very neighborly, Mrs. Anson.”
“What do you want, Hutch?” She held the shotgun across her chest, but her finger rested on the trigger. Frank had told her enough about Hutch that she had good reason to be leery of the man. Since then, she’d learned that her husband’s trips to town had definitely been so he could gamble. Hutch’s wife had let her know that Frank had reneged on the poker money he owed. Hutch was no doubt here to collect. “I already told your wife I would pay what Frank owed you once I had the note my husband signed.”
Hutch scratched his grizzled chin. “Well, that’s the thing. I’m going to need interest on that money compounded daily.”
“You sound like a loan shark.”
The man grinned and took a step toward her.
“I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you,” she said, shifting the barrel so it was pointed at his chest.
Hutch looked around again before settling an intent gaze on her. “You all alone out here, Allie?” He knew she was. Frank only hired occasional help, and that was when he was desperate. That was why Everett had been here the day Frank died. Most of the time it was just the two of them. “Dangerous, a woman alone this far out with neighbors nowhere near enough should you have to call for help.”
He took another step toward her.
“I hope you don’t think I won’t shoot you.”
“Maybe I just want some of what you’ve been giving away to McClintock,” Hutch said, baring his stained teeth in a sneer.
She swung the shotgun off to the side and fired, swinging it just as quickly back to him. “It’s a double barrel. This next one is for you.”
He jumped back, anger contorting his face. “This isn’t over. I’ll get my money and some satisfaction, as well. You won’t always have that shotgun in your hands.”
She heard the threat, her trigger finger itching to end this now right here in Frank’s front yard. He’d brought this on her. Even dead he was making her life a living hell.
“You come back, Hutch, and I’ll kill you.”
He smirked. “I guess we’ll see about that.”
* * *
JAKE HAD HOPED to find Blaze watching another Christmas movie. He had a craving for her and popcorn. At least he could fulfill one of those cravings.
But instead of being curled up in front of the television, he found her opening what he quickly realized wasn’t her first beer of the night.
“So, did you win?” she asked and handed him a beer.
He took it, trying to evaluate her mood. Not good, that much he could see. Something had her worked up. “I won and lost enough. I’ve been invited back tomorrow night.”
She shook her head. “Why bother? I know who killed Frank. The person my father is protecting.”
He listened as she told him about her visit to Pastor Westlake’s office. “It’s a theory,” he said when she finished.
“You have a better one?”
“Not yet. But I’m not giving up.” She didn’t look convinced. He worried that his coming to town was a mistake. Maybe he was making things worse for Blaze. He said as much.
She looked over at him, her gaze softening. “I told you. I’m glad you’re here. I’ll admit I wasn’t at first. Because of our past. I didn’t want to be reminded.”
“And now?”
She chuckled and took a long drink of her beer. “I can’t believe any of this is happening.”
“At least your father has come to his senses and is pleading not guilty.”
“As if he can get a fair trial in this town.”
“A trial is months off—if it comes to that. In the meantime, we’ll get to the truth. Isn’t that what we do?”
She nodded as she finished her beer
and was getting up to get another when he grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him. She stumbled and fell into his lap, her arms going around his neck. Her full breasts brushed against him, stirring his desire instantly. She smiled, her blue eyes wide and inviting. The woman knew how much he wanted her.
He drew her closer, even as his mind argued that this wasn’t the time. She was half-drunk and he was... Just the scent of her made him hard. He grasped the back of her neck. “Are you through fighting it?” He saw the answer in her eyes. Her defenses were down, her desire so strong that she could no longer hide it from him. She wanted him desperately. As desperately as he wanted her?
He dragged her to him. His mouth took hers in a blistering kiss as his free hand cupped her breast. His thumb caressed her pebble-hard nipple. She made a sound low in her throat and grabbed the front of his shirt in her two hands. As she jerked it open, the snaps sang as they came apart. He felt her warm palms on his bare chest and groaned against her lips.
But as her hand slid down to his crotch, he lifted her off him and stood, holding her at arm’s length. “I can’t do this.”
* * *
BLAZE STARED AT HIM. “I beg your pardon?”
“Not like this.”
His kiss had stolen her breath and her resolve. She had felt the pounding of his heart as she’d looped her arms around his neck and let herself enjoy the feel of him after days of pushing him away. More than anything she wanted to lose her naked self in him. She needed this. Needed him.
She reached for him but he stepped back. She frowned in confusion and met his gaze.
“I want more,” he said simply.
“So do I. Thought that’s what we were just about to do.”
He shook his head. “I want you, Blaze. All of you.”
She took a step toward him, caught the collar of his open shirt in one hand and pressed her palm to his warm, hard chest. He caught her hands in his and shook his head.
Her gaze went to his crouch. “Jake, it’s clear that you want me as much as I want you.”
“I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about love. Commitment, Blaze. Forever. Till death.”
She jerked her hands free and glared at him. “Forever? You can’t really believe that anyone can make such a commitment and actually keep it.”
“It’s not unheard-of, Blaze. But without a commitment...”
She took a step back from him, shaking her head. She felt dizzy, the beer she’d drunk making her queasy. She’d wanted this so desperately. She’d wanted him. She swallowed back the disappointment. “You ask too much.”
“Probably, but I won’t settle for less. Not this time.”
Her stomach knotted as she looked at him. She needed him in her bed. As her gaze met his again, he must have seen the torment in her eyes.
“Blaze—”
“You can’t kiss me like that and then...”
He reached for her but she sidestepped him. “You broke my heart. Now you want me to trust you? To commit forever to you?”
“You do trust me. You might have felt hurt but only because you told yourself a story that wasn’t true. You knew I didn’t love that woman. You knew I wasn’t sleeping with her. You were scared. Admit it.”
She glared at him. “How do you know what I felt?”
“Because I know you. Surely you can’t doubt that. Not after everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve meant to each other.”
“I don’t believe in love-ever-after.” She let out a laugh that broke with emotion. “Look at my father and mother. Now there’s a love story for you.”
“That’s just fear talking. It’s scary surrendering to another person, letting them see into your heart. Into your soul.”
“I...” She couldn’t finish. And yet she couldn’t move. She looked at him, knowing how weak she seemed with tears filling her eyes. Her heart felt as if it would break all over again.
He slowly began to snap his shirt closed. “I love you. And I know you love me. But maybe not enough.” He met her gaze. “Good night, Blaze.” With that, he turned and walked out.
She picked up the closest thing at hand, her empty beer bottle. She hurled it. The bottle hit the door as he closed it behind him. The glass shattered and sprinkled to the floor. Her heart shattered with it as she let out a howl of pain.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE NEXT MORNING Blaze came into the kitchen to find no pancakes and bacon cooking on the stove. No Jake. She glanced out the window and saw that his pickup was gone. Gone for good?
The thought squeezed her heart like a fist even as she told herself it was probably for the best. She decided to stop by the local café for breakfast, then go see her father. On the way, she replayed what had happened—and didn’t happen—last night.
She couldn’t help being disappointed and angry with Jake. What man in his right mind would pass up a physical relationship with no strings? Only Jake Horn. She thought of his kiss and groaned in agony. The man knew how she felt about him. Why did he have to take this ridiculous stand? It wasn’t like he’d promised marriage.
By the time she’d reached town, she was fuming. After parking in front of the café, she entered to find the place just starting to empty out following the early-morning rush.
“Take a seat,” an elderly waitress told her.
She’d just sat down in a booth, facing the windows looking out on the main drag, when the waitress put down a menu and a glass of ice water in front of her. “Coffee?” She looked up at the woman, saw her name tag and only got off a nod before Luella produced a cup and filled it from the pot in her other hand. “Think you know what you want?”
Blaze opened the menu. She could have been in any café across Montana since it offered the same thing. “I’ll have a short stack with bacon,” she said, handing back the menu, and the woman was off to the kitchen to place her order.
Sipping the coffee, she tried to clear her mind of everything but the reason she’d come back here. Through the front window she saw that it had begun to snow. Huge flakes whirled through the air in a mesmerizing fashion. She heard a couple talking excitedly about a white Christmas as they left.
She hadn’t thought about Christmas. The days at the ranch had all run together since she’d been here. Most years, she did little decorating since she was usually on a job somewhere and the day would pass with hardly any notice. She tried not to think about last Christmas. She and Jake had been together.
Christmas was still weeks away. She figured they would be finished here. If Jake hadn’t already left. It wasn’t like she needed his help, she told herself.
“A short stack and bacon.” Luella plopped the plates down. “Get you anything else?”
“As a matter of fact,” Blaze said and looked around the café. “It isn’t busy right now. Can I ask you why you visited Montgomery McClintock in jail?”
Luella leaned back a little as she looked at her. “You’re the daughter. Blair.”
“Blaze.”
The woman nodded sagely. “Right. I guess you should ask your father about it.”
“I plan to. But in the meantime, why don’t you tell me? Unless it’s a secret.”
Luella laughed. “Oh, honey, you can’t think that I’m hitting on your father.” She shook her head. “He got a message to me. Seems he hates the slop the jail was feeding him from that place a few doors down. I promised to see that he got what he likes. Wish it was something more...sinister.”
With that, the waitress left her to her pancakes and bacon.
* * *
JAKE HAD WOKEN before daylight after a restless night filled with bad dreams. He’d showered, dressed and left the ranch, not in the mood to see Blaze this morning. Once in town, he stopped by the sheriff’s office to see Monte.
“Where’s Blaze?” the prisoner asked as he entered the room to find onl
y Jake.
“I thought we should talk without her,” Jake told him.
Monte stood just inside the door as if bracing himself for what was to come.
“I’m in love with your daughter.”
The words seemed to take the man off guard. “This is what you want to talk to me about?” He looked relieved and amused.
“I want to ask you for her hand.”
“Seriously?” Monte shook his head as he walked around to take a chair. “That’s a bit old-fashioned.”
“I’m old-fashioned.”
“Really?”
“You seem surprised,” Jake said.
“It’s just that I know my daughter. So she’s agreed to this?”
“No,” he said. “She’s fighting it.”
Monte laughed again. “I hate to even ask. How do you plan to get her to the post, then?”
“I’m working on it. I want to marry her, raise a family, settle down.”
“We are talking about Blaze, right?”
“She is more conventional than she likes to admit,” he said.
“I’d have to take your word for that.” Monte seemed to consider him seriously. “How do you intend to support her?”
“I make good enough money as a private investigator. I also own a small ranch, run a few hundred head of cattle. I’ll make sure she’s taken care of, you don’t have to worry about that.”
“You are aware that I’m leaving Blaze the ranch.”
“That doesn’t have anything to do with me,” Jake said. “I don’t want or need your ranch.”
“I see. But if you married Blaze and she wanted to stay on the ranch?”
“If that’s what made her happy, I’d be there for her.”
“Then I give you my blessing,” Monte said, smiling. “Good luck.” He started to rise.
“One more thing,” Jake said. “Who killed Frank?”
The older man sat back down. “Haven’t we already had this conversation?”
“You haven’t been honest with your daughter. She’s planning to talk to the Westlakes. Sandra and her mother and probably Sandra’s husband, Lonny Dean.”
