Her words cut through his heart like a mower through grass. But didn’t he feel the same way? He forced air past the knot in his throat. “Are you going to take a test?”
She faced him again. “I will, but I’ve been late before. I’ll give it a couple more days.” He nodded his agreement, and then she jutted her chin toward his desk. “I saw the report.”
He cleared his throat before turning toward the desk. “Yeah. Jimsonweed poisoning.”
“Are you going to come back to work on the house?”
He wanted to. He missed her, their meals, the conversations about everything to nothing, her icy glares, her sunny smiles and her fiery arguments. She made him feel alive, and because of the joy she found in his work, he could take pride in something again.
To flush out the tool who’d poisoned the animals and to prevent any other calamities, he had to work alongside him. “No. Isn’t Tom working out?”
“Tom’s okay.” She moved away and faced the window behind his desk. “But he doesn’t let me help and doesn’t work as fast as you. I really want to get the house done. You’d told me Kyle could handle the ranch work.”
He looked down at the floor and clenched his fist. He hated not telling her the whole truth. “After the poisoning, the work has doubled. I won’t buy hay again, and getting it in from your fields takes both of us.”
“Oh.” She sniffed and didn’t look at him. “Maybe I should just hire a general contractor to do the work. Leon has offered his company.”
At the mention of the name, he turned her to look at him. “No. Not Ferguson.” Despite her glare, he headed off her argument. “If you want to hire someone to come in and do the work, that’s fine. As long as it’s not Ferguson.”
Her expression remained defiant. “What if I want Leon’s company to do the work? I’ve seen some of the houses his company has built. They’re beautiful.”
“And shoddy.”
She shook her head and pushed his hands away. “Dear God, Dylan, I know you don’t like him, but it’s not like Leon himself will be driving the nails and painting my walls.”
“No, he wants you on your back and your deed in his name.” He stepped away with clenched fists. Heat crawled up his neck. “Maybe he’s already gotten you into bed, but I won’t let him take this land the way he swindled my grandfather out of his.” The moment the words were out, he regretted them.
“I can’t believe you! Do you have any idea how insulting that is?” Charli shot him through with blue-green fire. “Yes, Leon wants me, but I haven’t slept with him. I don’t want to! And I can’t believe you still think he wants my land. Why? Why the hell would he want my ranch when he can buy whatever land he wants?”
“You can’t be this blind or naive. Think! You know everyone in town was shocked when you took the bid for this place out from under Leon. In all the years I’ve known him, he has never gone after a local woman, and then you show up and suddenly he’s all over you. Is being socially accepted by this town so damned important, you’d willingly fall for his act?”
The tears misting her eyes extinguished the fire. Damn, he didn’t mean to hurt her.
“But why? Why does he want my ranch so badly?” She hugged herself again. Her face went pale, and she sat in the old chair in the corner by the door. Finally, he’d made her think.
He leaned his backside against the desk, facing her. “I wish I knew why. I only know Leon has wanted this place for almost as long as I’ve known him.”
He looked down at his crossed boots. “When we were kids, my family came to Oak Springs for Christmas. I was about seven, Leon was twelve or thirteen, I think. Anyway, we were fooling around like boys do, and we snuck over here. He wanted to check out those old derricks. When we got to the bridge, Leon stopped the four-wheeler we were riding. I looked toward the house and saw old Jock standing on the front porch with one of his girlfriends and Johnny–Jock’s first son. He’s about the same age as Leon. And I figured they probably knew each other.”
He stared into the past as he spoke. “Jock looked up at us, and it was almost as if there was some silent exchange between him and Leon. After a moment, Leon looked at me with so much hatred in his eyes it scared me.”
As he submerged himself into the long ago scene from that mild winter day, he remembered the way Leon’s face turned hard at seeing Jock with his family. Something tripped in him. He looked up to find her watching him. “We were about halfway back to Oak Springs when he said to me, ‘I’ll own that ranch someday.’ I laughed and said something about Jock’s kid, and Leon looked at me and said, ‘His bastards don’t matter. Blackwell Ranch will rightfully be mine.’”
He paused, his mind buzzed with a hunch so outrageous he didn’t believe it himself. “I didn’t think anything about it until I’d heard about Leon firing three of his lawyers and his secretary when he discovered you beat him to the bid on this place. Then it slipped out he’d been trying for years to buy the ranch from Jock. Then Jock destroyed his will. The consensus at the time was he was just being a son-of-a-bitch by not giving it to his sons and letting it go to probate. Everyone chalked it up to his craziness. I’d say it’s because the last person Jock Blackwell wanted to have this place was Leon and that’s who would have bought it from the Blackwell boys.” He kneeled before her. “Suddenly those childish declarations didn’t seem so silly. Don’t trust him, Peaches.” He skimmed his fingers over her pale, damp, cheek. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
I don’t want to be hurt if you turn to him.
* * * *
Four days later, Dylan invited Tracy out to the ranch. After they’d eaten the burgers she’d picked up from Ella’s on the way over, he’d suggested they go riding. Bobby was content to stay and torment Jesse as he finished up for the day in the barn. He saddled the black and the sorrel Charli had named Ceres. The bay, Athena, seemed healthy enough, but he didn’t want to take the chance by saddling her.
Tracy reached over the stall door and rubbed Aurora’s long white-splotched face. “She’s a beautiful horse.”
He tightened the cinch on Artemis. He hated her name, and had a tendency to refer to her as Artie when Charli wasn’t around. Who named horses after Greek and Roman goddesses anyway? The answer made him smile as he patted Artie’s graceful neck. Only Charli. Over his shoulder, he looked at Tracy. “She’s had a rough couple of weeks.”
“Is she the one that was sick and aborted?” Tracy took the reins of Ceres, who waited in the breezeway, saddled and anxious to go.
“Yeah, but she’s doing better. Let’s go. I need to talk to you.” He swung up into the saddle and led the way out of the stable.
As they headed toward the southeastern side of the property, he gathered his thoughts on the way. Once they came to an unused pasture full of wildflowers, he stopped.
Tracy pulled up beside him. “Okay, big brother, what’s going on?”
He leaned over the saddle horn and pushed his hat back over his forehead. “What do you know about Kyle McPherson?”
“What do you want to know?”
He straightened and turned to peer at her. “Remember I haven’t lived in Colton for thirteen years, sis. What was he like as a kid? Jesse told me he was a troublemaker. Tell me what you know. You know almost everything that goes on in this town before it even happens because women like to talk when they get their hair done.”
Tracy furrowed her brows and looked away. “I know Kyle had a few run-ins with the law when he was a teenager, but his father always got him off the hook. He worked for his grandfather on his ranch until Uncle Jim sold it to the developer. He always has a flashy car and likes to buy his girlfriends expensive jewelry. Just the other day, Jenny Garret showed me the impressive emerald bauble he’d given to her.”
“Do you wonder where he gets the money? Charli isn’t paying him that much. Her wages are fair, but they aren’t gonna make a man rich.”
She shrugged. “Maybe it’s not real or his credit cards are maxed.”
> “Maybe.” He frowned. “Was he ever in trouble for drugs?”
“I don’t know.” Tracy looked at him. “Wait. I think he was. Got himself in trouble over in Waco about a year and a half ago, but his daddy pulled strings with Sheriff Madison, right before the old man retired, and they got the charges dropped or lessened. Shouldn’t you already know this? He is your employee.”
He took a deep breath. “He legally doesn’t have to tell an employer anything if the charges didn’t stick. Damn, if I’d known that, though, he wouldn’t be working here. I knew I should’ve called Wyatt before I hired him.” Wyatt McPherson was Kyle’s older brother and a Texas Ranger. Maybe he should still call his old friend.
“Did he steal something? What this is all about?”
“I think he’s responsible for the poisoning.”
“What?” She shook her head. “Kyle’s a spoiled brat, but I don’t believe for a minute he’d poison horses and cattle.”
He glanced away and dismounted. After moving away, he waited for Tracy to follow him to the ground. “I know McPherson did the feeding the morning the stock got sick. According to Jesse, Kyle acted jittery for a few days before the animals got sick. The morning before I found the calves, Kyle started the feeding before five-thirty. I don’t think the boy has ever been here that early. I also know jimsonweed is easy to buy on the street.”
She stared at him for a moment. “Why would Kyle poison Charli’s animals?”
“On the orders of someone willing to pay him enough to afford fancy emeralds for his lady love.” He raised a brow, and as soon as Tracy added two plus two, she widened her eyes. But in case she still had trouble coming up with four, he added, “And who in this county has more money than morals?”
“You don’t really think Leon is behind it, do you?”
“I wouldn’t put anything past that snake. Including murder.”
His sister shrieked, “You think he’s behind the shooting, too!”
“Tracy, Leon wants this land. And he wants me out of the way.”
“But why?” She shoved her fists to her hips and squared her shoulders. “Your insistence on this is going beyond crazy. Accusing anyone of such crimes is serious business, but our uncle–who just happens to be one of the richest men in Central Texas–is downright ludicrous.”
Although he’d lived in Colton as a teenager and for the past year, Leon hadn’t been around much during his high school days. He’d been off at Harvard, and after Leon graduated, he’d gone to work for his grandfather in Houston. Tracy, on the other hand, had never left Colton since moving here. She’d gotten pregnant her first year at Colton College and dropped out to marry Jock Blackwell’s nephew, Jake Parker. Possibly, she knew a great deal more about Leon and Maddie Ferguson than he did.
He ran his hand through his hair. “What do you know about Leon’s real father?”
Widened eyes replaced her frown, and she thoughtfully sucked on her bottom lip. “Not much. Maddie doesn’t talk about him. I’ve never even heard the man mentioned by name. Dylan, what the hell are you thinking?”
He looked out over the drifts of yellow, white, blue and red flowers. “Something beyond crazy.”
“Dylan?”
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Yeah.”
“Why do you care if Leon gets this place or not? Rumor has it Charli and Leon are seeing each other.”
“Because Charli has worked too hard for this place to have it swindled away from her by sweet talk and bouquets of roses.”
Tracy gently touched his shoulder. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”
“I’ll never let a woman do to me again what Brenda did. Charli’s just a good person who has had a tough life and deserves a fair chance to make it.”
Tracy snaked her arm around his waist and laid her head against his shoulder. “Oh, Dylan.”
A white butterfly swayed gently on the wind over the field. He had to save this land from Leon’s greed. If he couldn’t give his kid a normal family where Mom and Dad lived happily ever after, he’d make damned sure he or she had a home.
He moved away from Tracy and mounted Artie. “Let’s get back.”
Charli had had her few days. By now, she should’ve pissed on a stick. And he’d know if his life was about to become a whole hell of a lot more complicated.
Chapter 13
Charli stepped back from the wall, admiring the painting she’d purchased from an antique dealer in town. It was a beautiful seascape with one of the famous lighthouses along the southern coast in the foreground. She tilted her head to one side and retreated another step to admire her handiwork. The picture was perfect.
Tom worked somewhere upstairs. He never asked for help, and if she didn’t hear the sounds of an occasional saw or hammer and the twang of his radio, she’d wonder if he was even around.
After Leon left for his business trip, she’d decided to redo her bedroom. Tediously, she’d stripped the woodwork and repainted it a pure white, then painted the walls azure. When she’d pulled up the putrid green carpet, she uncovered red oak in reasonably good condition. She’d polished the flooring as she and Dylan had done in the living room.
Now as she looked at the once drab room, pleasure tingled through her. She’d done this. All of it. Before she’d met Dylan, she wouldn’t have known where to start.
He’d gotten under her skin the first day they’d met and stayed there.
As she looked down over her flat tummy, she tried to imagine herself pregnant. She couldn’t, didn’t want to. How could she ever be a mother? She’d been close to hers, but Momma died when she just started needing her mother the most.
She forced the wave of grief down and went into the bathroom. After taking a quick shower, she changed into a clean pair of shorts and a t-shirt before heading back into the bedroom.
She admired her handiwork for a few more minutes. She had to talk to Dylan and stop stalling.
“Is this another one of your butterflies?”
She slowly turned at the sound of his deep voice. Dylan stood in the doorway of her bedroom. Thick, dark brown hair fell over his forehead, the skin tanned from the sun. Broad shoulders filled the opening, and he had his hands tucked into the pockets of his faded jeans. He took her breath away.
Meeting his silver eyes, she gave him a small smile. “You could say that. This room was ugly before I started on it.”
“Yeah, it was.” He stepped through the door and looked over the room as he moved toward her. The dimple in his left cheek deepened when he grinned. “I’m impressed.”
She shrugged and clasped her hands before her, uncomfortable and, yet, pleased with his praise. “I only redecorated it. Wasn’t all too difficult.”
He chuckled low, and it vibrated through her. “Who are you kidding? I remember teaching you which end of the paintbrush to hold.”
It was too painful to look up at him and know she was about to destroy whatever might have been. She wrapped her arms around her middle. “I–I’m pregnant.”
Unable to hold back the tears, she turned away from him, not able to bear watching his teasing admiration turn to hatred for trapping him in unwanted fatherhood. When he didn’t speak, she squeezed her eyes shut against the hollow ache. In a voice so soft she doubted he’d hear it, she whispered, “You don’t have to be involved if you don’t want to be.”
“No.” His arms engulfed her from behind and turned her to face him. The disbelief in his eyes surprised her. “I told you I’d be here. Neither one of us may have wanted this, but we created a life together.” His voice broke and he swallowed hard. “I said the other day I’d never measure up to my father. I know I never will if I walk away from you and our baby. I’m not like your father, Charli, and I won’t let another man raise my child.”
She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his shoulder. He smelled of horses, leather, and sunshine–and she never wanted to let him go. Her tears fell in as much relief as anything else. “I’m no
t sure I can do this alone.”
His breath warmed the side of her neck where his face pressed. “You won’t be alone as long as you want me here.”
She pulled back, and he gently brushed away the tears on her cheek with the pad of a thumb. The gesture was so tender and his eyes were so full of emotion, she could almost imagine he really cared for her.
Of course, he cared. Dylan cared for everyone whom he felt responsible for. But it wasn’t love. Ricardo had told her he cared for her, but he’d only cared as long as she did what he’d coerced her into doing. Danny had promised to take care of her, but he’d only cared for her as long as she stole from her grandfather to support his drug habit.
For Dylan, it was his sense of honor. He’d knocked up a girl. Of course, he’d take care of her because it was the right thing to do.
He smoothed his hand over her damp hair. “When was the last time you ate?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. I think it was sometime yesterday. I haven’t had much of an appetite.”
“I’m going to fix you something. You need to eat.”
She nodded and followed him out to the kitchen. He rummaged through the new stainless refrigerator. “I like the way the kitchen turned out.” He faced her with a carton of eggs and a package of bacon and set the items on the new island in the large kitchen.
Dylan finished stockpiling ingredients on the granite countertop. She pulled out one of the bar stools and sat down to watch him. He took two pans down from the rack above the workspace and went about making an omelet and frying bacon.
When he set a plate of food before her, she smiled up at him. He took the stool beside her, his own plate piled high.
“This looks–interesting.” She picked at the green pepper and cheese omelet that looked more like scrambled eggs with green chunks and splotched with gooey cheddar. The bacon was extra crispy and slightly burnt on the edges. “Your mother’s a chef, huh?”
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