by Joanna Wayne
“I may have mentioned that in my résumé.”
“Then you deserved what you got.” Tague started back toward the tack room. “Guess I’ll have to make an honest woman of you.”
“I’m not getting on a horse, Tague. I’m not.”
“You’ll feel better once you conquer your fears.”
“I like my fears the way they are.”
“There’s nothing to it, Alexis. I’ll help you mount Silver. She’s as gentle as a lapdog and then you and Tommy can ride around the corral. I’ll hold the reins and lead. You’ll get the feel of it in no time.”
She shook her head. “Don’t push your luck, cowboy.”
“Wanna ride, Mommy,” Tommy chimed in. “Wanna ride Silver.”
“You don’t want to disappoint the boy,” Tague said.
Tommy wiggled to get down from Tague’s arms. Tague eased him down and Tommy immediately dived into a pile of fresh straw a few feet away. Tague put a thumb under Alexis’s chin and tilted her face until their gazes locked. “Do you trust me to do what I say?”
She closed her eyes for a second and then exhaled slowly. “This isn’t about riding Silver anymore, is it?”
“Not at the moment.”
“I don’t have a lot of choice, do I? I do what you say, or you call the authorities.”
“That’s not going to cut it, Alexis, not if you really want to prove your innocence. We’re not in Hollywood and this isn’t a world of make-believe and illusions.”
“I know where I am, Tague.”
“I’m willing to use every resource I have to help you, but I need you to be totally honest with me about everything. You have to trust me enough to hold nothing back.”
“I don’t have a lot of experience with trust, Tague. In fact, I don’t have any.”
“Then we’ll just be spinning our wheels for the next week.” He leaned in close and put his mouth to her ear so that he could keep his voice to a husky whisper. “Tommy will be the real loser. Is that what you want?”
“No. You know it’s not.”
“Then trust me. I have no ulterior motives. I have nothing to gain except the knowledge that I’ve done what I can to make sure you get a fair shake and Tommy stays safe.”
“I want to believe you.”
“Then do. Trust me.”
“I’ll try. It’s been so long, I don’t even know where to start or how to begin letting down the barriers.”
“Then let’s start with a horse ride. Put yourself in my hands and trust me to keep you safe. Then we’ll work from there.”
For a second he seriously doubted she could. Then she gave a little salute and relented.
“Okay, Tague. I’ll do my best to give this trust thing a shot. I’ll get back in the saddle again.”
“Atta girl. This time, we’ll try it with a horse.”
* * *
ALEXIS COULDN’T DENY a bit of nerve-tamped elation as they walked back toward the house. Tague had led her and Tommy around the corral not once but three times. Tommy had been ecstatic, especially after Tague had taught him to yell yee-haw. She figured he’d be doing it the rest of the day.
Tague was incredible. She wanted desperately to trust him, yet the niggling fear and mistrust she’d harbored for years refused to completely disappear.
The stakes were too high. Tague could change his mind at any second, decide she was guilty and use anything she’d said against her. He lived in world of black and white, a Camelot of sorts where truth was might.
The past three years of her life had been painted in shades of gray and the lines between right and wrong had blurred to the point she could no longer distinguish between them.
She’d never meant to hurt anyone. In spite of that, she’d unknowingly helped destroy Lena and she’d stolen Tommy and became a fugitive.
Tommy ran ahead of them, stopping to splash at every opportunity, though the puddles were quickly drying up. The bright morning sun was a glaring reminder that the temperature might reach a hundred degrees by afternoon.
“I’ll have to carry Tommy directly to the bathtub,” she said. “Your mother will kill me if he drags that mud into her house.”
“There’s a hose in the backyard. Wash him off outside.”
“He’ll love that.”
“I think he’s got a little cowboy in him,” Tague said. “He’s taking to ranch life like a wrangler in training.”
“No doubt about it,” Alexis agreed. “You won him over the second you lifted him atop Silver. He’ll drive me nuts begging to come back to the Bent Pine.”
But she found it difficult to believe they ever would. No matter how much Tague talked about trust, her best opportunity to stay out of jail and keep Tommy was to go on the run again. Somehow she had to find a way to make him see that.
In order to do that, she needed to find out everything about him she could.
“What was it like growing up on the ranch?” she asked as they neared the house.
“The dream life, though, of course, I didn’t realize it at the time. Looking back, I appreciate how lucky my brothers and I were. We had horses and four-wheelers and acres to explore. We were surrounded by friends and family and lived in a house that echoed with love.”
“It sounds heavenly.” And far more like a dream than any reality she’d ever known.
“Don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t all fun and games. We had chores to do. And not nearly as many fancy toys as our friends. Dad wasn’t keen on kids watching TV or playing video games. He figured a bike, a baseball, a football and a swimming hole should be enough to keep a kid busy.”
“He sounds like a man who had it all together.”
“I’m not sure anyone ever has it all together, but Dad was a man who put morals and ethics above money, and trustworthiness above popularity. He truly was as good as his word in the oil business and in ranching.”
“Was he a good father as well?”
“He was strict, but he knew how to have fun. We still have the tire swing he hung for us. And the tree house he helped us build out of scrap lumber is still standing, though a woodpecker left the roof full of holes.”
“Did you and your brothers go to private schools?”
“Nope. Mother is big on community. If she wasn’t happy with something about the neighborhood school, she jumped in and did what she could to change it, but never without the involvement of others. She’s convinced that it’s the sharing that makes everyone feel part of the community. She’s a remarkable woman, another thing I didn’t fully appreciate until recently.”
“She’s very gracious.”
“And there’s not a snobbish bone in her body. To tell you the truth, I didn’t even know we were rich until I was in high school.”
“You’re kidding?”
“No. When I was in the tenth grade, I read an article about the success of Lambert Inc. and I thought, ‘Hey, that’s us.’ I immediately went to my father and told him that since we were rich I should be driving a Corvette to school.”
“Did you get one?”
“Hardly. He informed me he was rich. I was still living on the dole.”
“Did you ever get the Corvette?”
“Not yet. Probably never will. Turns out I’m a pickup truck kind of guy.”
“So there are no deep, dark secrets that shaped your life or rattling skeletons hiding in the back of your closet?”
“Afraid not.”
“No beautiful woman in a distant European castle waiting for your visit with bated breath?”
“I think you have me mixed up with Prince William or his brother, Harry.”
“Impossible. You have a Texas accent. Is there a first love for whom you still pine?”
“Not unless you mean my horse
Gabe. He died about four years ago and I still miss him.”
Perhaps Tague was as straightforward and as honest as he seemed. Guilt pricked Alexis’s conscience. “There’s something I need to tell you, Tague.”
“I’m listening.”
“Remember the phone call that I got just before we left Dallas?”
“The one from the carjacker?”
“Yes, only I lied. It wasn’t from the carjacker. The caller was Scott. He didn’t say his name. He only said that I knew what he wanted. But I’d know his voice anywhere.”
“No wonder you were in such a rush to get out of the house. Why didn’t you tell me then?”
“Because I was trying not to get involved with you. If Scott knew my number, I thought he must have known where I lived. I expected him to burst through the door at any second.”
“That seems logical,” Tague agreed.
“Yes, but the more I think about it, I feel certain he only had my phone number. He may have been trying to trace the call and discover my location. But there is no way he’d have ever just called and given me warning that he was coming if he knew where to find me.”
“I want to know if he calls again, Alexis, and don’t wait until a day later to tell me.”
“No, I won’t.”
Tommy ran up to show her a bug he’d found under a rock, saving her from any additional talk of Scott. Before she finished examining the bug, she heard Carolina calling for them to hurry.
Alexis took Tommy’s hand and pulled him along, albeit a few steps behind Tague.
“What is it?” Tague asked.
“Sheriff Garcia is here to see Alexis. He says it’s urgent.”
Alexis’s heart plunged to her toes. A visit from any sheriff could only mean one thing. She was on her way to jail.
Chapter Nine
Tague had no idea how Garcia had gotten involved in this, but he didn’t like it. There was a chance Scott Hayden was behind this visit, but Tague doubted that was the case. Had Scott known Alexis and Tommy were here, cops would be swarming the place. In that situation, Tague would have no choice but to stand back and let them arrest Alexis.
He glanced behind him to see how Alexis was taking the news.
She was leaning over Tommy, holding on to him as if she feared he was about to be plucked away by a vulture. Her face was drawn, her bottom lip sucked between her teeth. The urge to take her in his arms and reassure her was practically devastating.
“Tell Garcia we’ll be there in a few minutes,” Tague told his mother. “We need to rinse the mud off of Tommy first.” At least that would give Alexis a chance to calm down.
“I can do that for you,” Carolina offered.
“I’ll handle the clean-up job,” Tague said, “but you could throw me a bar of soap and a washcloth and towel. I might as well do this right while I’m at it. Besides, there’s nothing more refreshing than an outdoor shower in July.”
“I can take care of Tommy,” Alexis said in a shaky voice. “You can all go inside.”
“I’m staying out here with you,” Tague said. “Why don’t you help Tommy get undressed, Alexis?”
Tommy was already stripping, but as frightened as Alexis looked and sounded, she might do something desperate if he let her out of his sight. Like steal one of the vehicles in the driveway and make a run for it.
He turned on the water and adjusted the nozzle while Alexis pulled the blue knit shirt over Tommy’s head. Tague sprayed gently to the backdrop of Tommy’s delighted squeals.
Alexis stepped behind him where she could stay dry. “Tell the sheriff I’m not here, Tague,” she pleaded, her voice barely a whisper. “Tell him I left while you were working with the horses. Tell him anything. Just get rid of him.”
“It’s too late for that. He’d know I was lying.”
“Then give me the keys to your truck. You can sidetrack him while Tommy and I drive away and then you won’t be lying.”
“You’ve run long enough, Alexis. It’s time to stand strong and tackle the issues head-on. I’ll be beside you all the way.”
“Really? Are you going to jail with me? Are you going to take care of Tommy and keep him safe while I’m in front of a judge and jury?”
Carolina returned. She handed Tague the bar of soap and the washcloth and Alexis a big, fluffy towel. “I think the sheriff has good news,” she said. “At least he better since he’s eaten two pieces of Alda’s banana bread and bored me for almost half an hour with talk of his mother’s gout.”
“Do you know him personally?” Alexis asked.
“Everyone around here knows Garcia,” Carolina said. “He’s been sheriff for the last twenty years and he was a deputy before that. He’s as recognizable around Oak Grove as the bell tower in the Baptist Church.”
“And he makes as much noise,” Tague said. “I think we’re done here. Tommy is squeaky-clean.”
“Yee-haw,” Tommy called. When Carolina laughed, he did it a couple of more times for her listening pleasure.
“If you’ll lay out his clothes, I’ll dress him and keep him entertained while you talk to the sheriff,” Carolina offered.
“I’d appreciate that,” Alexis said. She wrapped the towel around Tommy and Tague threw him over his shoulders and carried him up the stairs and into the house.
“You look like a natural at that,” Carolina said.
A witty comeback flew to the tip of Tague’s tongue, but he bit it back. He wasn’t even sure why except that it didn’t seem the time or place to protest that he was a long way from being ready for fatherhood.
He took Alexis’s arm as they walked into the parlor where Garcia was waiting.
“Hang in there,” he offered as feeble encouragement.
“Please don’t mention the word hang. I’m about to be sick as it is.”
Garcia stood as they entered, dressed in his usual pair of creased khaki pants and a clean khaki shirt. His skin was ruddy and though he was only a few years older than Carolina, his hairline was receding fast.
He put out his hand to Tague. “Good to see you again. Haven’t seen hide nor hair of you since the Easter community service. Guess you’ve been busy.”
“A rancher’s work is never done,” Tague said.
“Same with a lawman. I hear you’ve been looking around for some more land to buy.”
“I’m always in the market for a bargain.”
“Reid Olson’s thinking of selling off some of his land now that his kids are all married and grown.”
“I’ll give him a call, but I’m sure that’s not what brought you here today.”
“No, I’m here to see Alexis Beranger.” He put out a hand to Alexis. “You must be the lady in question.”
“I’m Alexis Beranger,” she said, ignoring his hand.
“That’s quite a shiner you got there. Did you get that from the carjacker?”
“I did. How do you know about that?”
“I got a call from Detective Gerald Hampton. He said he’s working with you on the case.”
“Why would he call you?”
“You’re in my jurisdiction, so he asked me to take a ride over here. He didn’t know for certain you were at the Lamberts, but he figured you might be, seeing as how he’d run into Tague at your place yesterday.”
“So why did Hampton send you out here?”
“He thought Alexis would be happy to learn that her carjacker has been arrested.”
“That is good news,” Tague said. “Who is he?”
Garcia hitched up his trousers. “Booker Dell Collins. He’s bad news. Hampton claims he likes his violence about as well as he likes his crack. And that’s plenty.”
Alexis put a shaky hand on Tague’s arm. “They must have found his fingerprints in my ca
r.”
“Not that I know of,” Garcia said. “Way I heard it was that someone turned Booker in for the reward money.”
“What reward?” Alexis asked.
“Let’s sit down and go over this slowly,” Tague said. “I’d like to make certain I get the facts straight.” He led Alexis to the sofa and then sat down next to her. Garcia sat back down as well, in a chair facing them.
“What’s this about a reward?” Tague asked.
“Someone offered a whopping $50,000 reward for information leading to the arrest of the carjacker.”
“Who would do that?” Alexis asked. “Certainly no one that I know.”
“An anonymous donor.”
“That’s a lot of money for a carjacking where no one was injured,” Tague commented.
“Well, it worked,” Garcia said. “A woman who claims to have seen the entire incident from her car called in and identified Booker Dell Collins by name. She said she’d known his mother for years.”
“So there was a witness,” Tague said.
“Yep, and apparently a credible one. She didn’t actually collect the reward yet, but if the arrest sticks, she will. Of course, she opted not to have her identity revealed to the public for fear of reprisal.”
“I still can’t imagine who’d offer an award of that size,” Alexis said.
“Hampton figures it was a business owner whose bottom line is being affected by crimes in that area. It could even be the CEO of the supermarket chain where you were attacked.”
It could have been, but Tague had a hunch Scott Hayden was behind this. That amount of money would be nothing to him. But why did he need the carjacker arrested?
Was he trying to protect Alexis? Or did he have a more devious plan? Like not wanting her identified and arrested before he could kill her and silence her claims of rage and attempted murder for good.
“Detective Hampton said to tell you he’d need you to come in and pick the suspect out of a lineup, Mrs. Beranger,” Garcia said. “He’ll call and let you know when, but he wants you to keep your phone with you so he can reach you. He left you several messages this morning but said you didn’t return his calls.”
A nod was her only response.
