A Cowboy's Pride

by Karen Rock

  When she began to shut the door, Katlynn gripped its jamb, requiring Renata to either crush her fingers or keep the entrance open. “May I beg a favor?”

  Think.

  How to get in there?

  Renata glanced at Katlynn’s hand, her upper lip pulled tight in disapproval. Clearly Renata did not like a scene. That could work.

  “I’m afraid I’m feeling a bit unwell myself. A long day riding,” Katlynn babbled, ignoring Cole’s side eye. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water before we go?”

  Renata studied Katlynn as she drooped against the doorway, wedging her shoulder in the gap. When push came to shove, no one knew how to gain entry like an investigative reporter.

  “I can’t imagine what my production company would think, let alone the tabloids, if word got out I fainted here.” Katlynn infused her voice with a slight gasping hoarseness. “You know how the paparazzi loves to speculate on pregnancies. They’d drag Mr. Farthington into a crass story for refusing me a glass of water.”

  Behind her, Cole camouflaged his chuckle with a cough.

  Renata sighed and opened the door wider. “Come in.” She pointed to the front parlor. “Please wait here.”

  Her short heels clattered on the black-and-white tiles as she marched away.

  “Where is he?” Katlynn turned slowly in a circle. “I’m not leaving without answers.”

  “That’s two of us. Hey. Look.” Cole pointed to a pair of gardening gloves beside a pair of open doors off the parlor leading to an indoor terrarium. The faint strains of opera music floated from the space. “Could be in there.”

  “Let’s check it out.”

  Humid, moist air smothered them the moment they stepped into the glassed-in space. Katlynn glanced out one of the clear panels; the weather had been sunny for several days but was about to break. Thunder growled in the distance and she could feel the coming rain in the air flowing through an open door that led to an outdoor rose garden.

  “Mr. Farthington!” she called, stepping deeper into the room. Potted orchids crowded shelves on either side of the space. They filled the room with a cloying, floral scent.

  Cole stopped her with a hand on her arm and a point out into the garden. On a bench amidst bright roses framed by trimmed boxwood hedges, sat Mr. Farthington. White drifted from his mouth as he puffed on a cigar. A wide-brimmed straw hat shaded his face. He appeared to be napping.

  Katlynn’s chin lifted. No one smoked while they napped. She’d bet her last dollar he was faking. “Mr. Farthington!” She advanced down the white gravel path. Beneath her boots, the hard stones ground against each other. “A moment of your time?”

  “I’ve been expecting you,” he said without lifting his lids.

  Katlynn’s eyes met Cole’s and he shrugged, as surprised as she.

  With a sigh, Clyde opened his eyes and straightened on the bench. “Won’t you have a seat?” he asked, his cigar dangling from his mouth.

  The surreal moment seemed to steal sensation from her legs. It felt as though she floated to the bench.

  “How did you know we were coming?” Cole demanded, dispensing with the niceties. Her heart swelled at the tough, rugged man, the delicate roses surrounding him only accentuating his masculinity. He wasn’t smooth or sophisticated like the men she’d met in LA, but he was a good man, a man of principles, integrity and strength. He didn’t waver or equivocate, especially when it came to her, as she’d discovered today. He’d never stopped caring for her and wanted her back...

  Clyde removed his cigar from his lips long enough to say, “I received a call from your brother, Sheriff Loveland. Claimed some wild story about me having you followed. Quite ridiculous.”

  “Is it?” Cole paced forward and loomed over the gamine man who, in his tan linen suit and expensive loafers, looked as though he’d stepped off a yacht in St. Tropez. Cole’s chin jutted. “Whose gun did Jerry have?”

  “Who?” Clyde asked, shooing away a curious bee.

  Katlynn called on her interviewer skills to study his body language. Despite his off-handed speech, he seemed nervous. His hands were steady as he replaced his cigar in his mouth, but there were lines of strain around his eyes, and his jaw was set in a way at odds with his casual talk. The humid day was warm, but it was not so warm as to justify the slick of sweat at Clyde’s temples.

  “The man you hired to steal a jewel from us, using any means possible.” Katlynn smiled blithely. “I believe that comes with charges of conspiracy to commit grand theft.”

  “And murder,” Cole added, his teeth clenched.

  Clyde’s face darkened, and his hands fisted at his sides. “You have no proof. A jury wouldn’t believe such a crazy story. I’m well-known in this town. My family has a long history here. A reputation.”

  “So does mine.” Cole pointed a finger in Clyde’s face.

  With Clyde distracted, Katlynn slipped her cell from her pocket, scrolled to Gabe’s number, selected text and hit the microphone button to transcribe and record the conversation. She muted the volume to keep them from hearing Gabe.

  “Lovelands,” Clyde spat, “are white trash. Broke-down cowboys.”

  Emotions shifted like sea currents beneath Clyde’s blotched skin as Katlynn glanced from one man to the other.

  “I’d rather be a poor, honest man than a rich thief. If you’re any kind of a man, tell us why you’re having us followed.”

  Clyde’s slit eyes rested on Cole, hard and bright as diamonds. “No one will believe you, anyway.”

  “Seems my brother’s leaning in that direction.”

  “The infamous Loveland lawmen...a tradition in Carbondale for generations. You think that’ll scare me?”

  “If it doesn’t, you’re an idiot.”

  Katlynn leaned forward and straightened Clyde’s tie. “Mr. Farthington, if your family has some connection to Cora’s Tear, think of the historical implications. You’d mentioned you were a history buff. This is your chance to make a name for yourself. Surely, your family’s part in this Cade-Loveland feud is an important one, an untold story. Let me share it. Imagine the celebrity, the notoriety, you’ll gain.” She stared directly into his eyes. “The miscommunication with Jerry can be a nonfactor, and Sheriff Loveland will drop the investigation into the attempted murder and grand theft charges.”

  Clyde paled slightly. “An investigation for attempted murder?”

  “Wouldn’t you rather the focus be on the past than the present?” she cajoled. “If you’re the key to resolving the Cade-Loveland feud, you’ll be a hero...not a petty criminal.”

  In the distance, lightning forked against a gray-purple sky, the charged air electric.

  “Which is it, Farthington?” Cole demanded, his arms folded across his chest.

  “Mr. Farthington,” Renata huffed, appearing in the doorway. “I tried to turn them away, but—”

  With a graceful wave of his hand, Clyde dismissed her. “Leave us be, Renata.”

  “Why has your family been trying to purchase the parcel of land by the bluffs from the Lovelands?”

  “We were ordered to.”

  “By?” Cole demanded.

  Clyde sighed. “By Clyde the first. From his deathbed.”

  “A deathbed confession.” Intrigue crackled along Katlynn’s spine. She sat ramrod straight, schooling her face to conceal her excitement. At last...the truth. She could smell it.

  Clyde nodded. “My ancestor had gotten into a bit of financial trouble and—”

  “Siphoning government funds to pay off his gambling debts,” Cole interrupted. “We know all about it...and why he moved up the date of his wedding to Maggie. He needed the jewel.”

  Clyde’s hand rose to his chest. “How did you—”

  “We’re investigators. It’s our job,” Katlynn replied, firm. When she met Cole’s eye, the proud expre
ssion he wore squeezed her heart.

  “One you appear to be quite good at,” Clyde mused, recovered from his shock. “I see I have no choice but to tell you everything.”

  “Beginning with?” Katlynn prompted. Open-ended queries loosened up reluctant subjects. As if to punctuate her question, lightning forked, quicksilver, in the distance. The air swarmed around her, pressing.

  “Before he died, Clyde begged his oldest son, in confidence, to continue his lifelong search for Cora’s Tear.” Clyde dropped his cigar to the ground and squashed its glowing tip with his shoe. “It was promised to him as part of Maggie Cade’s dowry and, by rights, belonged to him.”

  “Not her family?” Katlynn prodded gently.

  Clyde pulled a monogrammed handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbed at his glistening forehead. “It was part of the betrothal agreement.”

  “But she died before they were married,” Cole insisted.

  “Yes. Unfortunate.” Clyde waved the white cloth, dismissing Cole’s claim, before pocketing it again.

  “Indeed.” Katlynn signaled Cole with her eyes to let her take the lead. He put Clyde on the defensive. Even the worst villains didn’t see themselves as the bad guy. The trick was to make them believe you understood their point of view and would portray it on the show sympathetically. “I imagine your ancestor must have been quite desperate when he was informed of the railroad’s audit.”

  Clyde heaved an aggrieved sigh. “He would have resolved the matter had his fiancée not been a simpleton.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Taking up with another man,” Clyde sniffed. “A penniless younger son.”

  “Maggie?” Katlynn rounded her mouth, aping surprise.

  Clyde leaned forward and patted her knee. “Oh, yes. She was sleeping with a Loveland.” Clyde’s glance flitted dismissively over Cole, who now stood as still as a statue. “Everett Loveland.”

  “But how would he have known that?” Katlynn asked with just the right amount of breathless anticipation. “Seems like Maggie would have been too clever to flaunt such a tawdry romance...”

  “Indeed.” Clyde nodded at her approvingly. “My ancestor knew better than to trust an uneducated, ungrateful minx. He had her followed, discovered their trysts and arranged to send Everett away with a job offer.”

  “He worked for the Crystal River Railroad,” Cole said.

  “With him out of the way, he could persuade the young woman to see the error of her ways.” Clyde uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

  “Only she didn’t come to her senses, correct?” Katlynn angled her body sideways to maintain eye contact, her connection with Clyde. “She continued to care only for Everett.”

  Clyde nodded. “Correct. A silly, useless girl.”

  “She could have had it all,” Katlynn mused aloud. “Money. A position in society, a name people recognized. She wasn’t sufficiently grateful for Mr. Farthington’s attention.”

  “She deserved what she got,” Clyde muttered, low.

  “Say that again,” Cole growled.

  Clyde’s shoulders hunched. Thunder rumbled, low and deep. Closer now. “Her death was her own fault.”

  “Not Everett’s?” Katlynn prompted. The unspoken truth swelled in the space between them as surely as the water ballooning the dark clouds overhead.

  Clyde studied his hands as they twisted in his lap. “No.”

  “But many believed Everett killed her...unless you know something no one else does.”

  Clyde glanced at her sharply, and she held her breath, watching as he calculated his next response.

  “A secret so explosive you’ll become a household name for sharing it?” she prompted, dangling the bait.

  Clyde’s lids lowered. “You’re a clever one, I’ll give you that.”

  “Excuse me?” Disappointment curled tight inside Katlynn. She’d nearly had him on the hook. Now he was pulling away.

  “You’re trying to trick me into a confession.”

  “If you don’t confess to me, then Ultima Productions will demand one,” she pronounced, switching tactics, reading her subject. “When they take you to court for threatening the life of one of its stars.”

  A trio of sparrows swooped low over the hedges to land on a birdfeeder, twittering in the sudden, tense silence.

  “Are you threatening me, Ms. Brennon?” Clyde asked coldly.

  “Merely reminding you of the facts.” She lifted her chin, meeting his haughty stare. Matching it. In this moment she wasn’t speaking to him as a star. She was Katie-Lynn Brennon, a simple girl from Carbondale, Colorado, who deserved and demanded answers about her small town’s worst unsolved crime.

  “Clyde visited her the night before the wedding and spied her sneaking away,” Clyde intoned, speaking as slowly as a funeral dirge. “He confronted her on the bluffs. When she admitted to running away to marry Everett, he insisted on knowing the whereabouts of the jewel or he wouldn’t free her.”

  “Insisted?” Menace now darkened Cole’s voice.

  “Wouldn’t he have known the location since he’d had her followed?” Katlynn asked.

  “Alas, his hired man suffered a fatal heart attack before showing Clyde the spot, though he’d described the general area.”

  “The land your family’s been trying to purchase to conduct your own searches.” Katlynn pulled her shirt collar from her damp neck. Beneath her clothes, her body felt slick. Clammy.

  “Yes,” Clyde said, impatient. “We’ve gone over this before.”

  “Let’s get back to Maggie, then.” Cole rested the tip of his boot on the bench leg and leaned closer to Clyde.

  “She proved to be quite a fighter.” Clyde sank back in the bench, putting as much distance between himself and an encroaching Cole as possible. “She struck Clyde. When he grabbed her, merely to restrain her since she was becoming quite hysterical, she stumbled out of reach and fell off the bluff.”

  Cole’s eyes, dark with horror and shock, clicked with hers for an electric moment. Astonishment and dismay vied for a place in Katlynn’s chest with a certain feeling of satisfaction. The truth—at last.

  “Clyde killed Maggie Cade.”

  Clyde, the fourth, shook his head. “It was an accident, of course.”

  “All of Clyde’s women died in accidents,” Cole insisted. “That’s no coincidence.”

  “Well... I...” Clyde sputtered.

  “So why didn’t he tell the authorities?” Katlynn asked, sounding as offhand as possible to get Clyde to relax again.

  “He heard hooves approaching and hid when he spied the man who’d tried to steal his intended.”

  “Everett,” Cole breathed. His nostrils flared.

  Clyde nodded. “The Cades arrived a moment later searching for Maggie. When they spotted Everett with her, they assumed he killed her and strung him up.”

  “And Clyde didn’t try to stop it?” Katlynn jumped in to ask, beating a red-faced Cole.

  “And implicate himself?” Clyde gave a short, dismissive laugh. “Why would he do that?”

  “Because it’s the right thing to do.” Cole paced before the bench now, his hands tightly clasped behind his back. “The honest thing.”

  Lightning cracked, near enough to make Katlynn jump. She’d suggest they head inside, but it’d break the spell. The Cade-Loveland feud, solved at last. Exaltation mingled with anticipation. Joy and Boyd would be delighted by the news and have the wedding they deserved...and she’d have unraveled one of America’s longest unsolved mysteries, elevating her and her show. If she was planning to leave LA for Cole, it shouldn’t matter, but it did. It did. This was a possible Emmy-winning scoop, the culmination of her life’s work. It’d be hard to turn her back on it.

  “The right thing?” Clyde scoffed. “Such bourgeois sentiments. Maggie w
as dead regardless, and Everett...his hanging saved him from a meaningless existence.”

  “Your ancestor did them a favor, as you see it?” Katlynn pressed, covering up her distaste.

  “Maggie’s death was regrettable, I imagine, but Everett’s...well...”

  “Didn’t matter,” Cole bit out.

  Clyde shrugged. “Cora’s Tear belonged to my ancestor until Everett tried stealing a woman and dowry that didn’t belong to him.”

  “But her heart was Everett’s. That’s more valuable than a thousand Cora’s Tears,” Katlynn said, her eyes on Cole.

  “Sentimental mishmash.” Clyde retrieved another cigar from the box beside him and patted his pockets in search of a lighter. “Would have thought that beneath you, Ms. Brennon. In any case, my family has sought the jewel ever since.”

  “The jewel doesn’t belong to your family,” Cole insisted through clenched teeth.

  “It was rightfully ours.”

  Katlynn raised her eyebrows. “And you killed to get it.”

  “Now...see here, Ms. Brennon.”

  Katlynn held up her recording cell phone and unmuted the volume. “Did you get all that, Gabe?”

  “Every word,” her director gasped. “Tell Mr. Farthington we’ll be sending our representatives tomorrow with a contract.”

  Clyde’s scowl smoothed, and a pleased light entered his eye. “A contract? Will I be in the episode?”

  “You’ll be its star,” Gabe assured the odious man. “Next to Katlynn, of course.”

  “No. I’m happy to let Mr. Farthington shine,” she demurred, her eyes on Cole. “Stardom has lost its appeal lately.”

  A stunned smile transformed his rugged face to breathtaking handsomeness. They had much to celebrate after finding a way to bring peace to the families at last.

  If only she wasn’t still at war with herself...

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  COLE CHEWED SLOWLY on a tender spare rib, half listening as Heath’s guitar twanged inside Shorty’s outdoor dining tent. Contentment filled him as he watched Joy and Pa swap bites from each other’s plates. The sweet-smoky scent of hickory barbecue drifted in on the cool evening air and mingled with the children’s shouts. Cade grandkids chased his brother Daryl’s son and daughter around cloth-covered tables formed into a horseshoe perimeter for tonight’s rehearsal dinner.