Josie laced her fingers together and looked down at her palms. She didn’t need to know because she wasn’t getting involved with him. Not even as friends. He’d be around for a month and then be gone.
Ask him something else. Anything else.
“Did you grow up on a ranch?”
“No, a quiet patch of suburbia.” He stretched out his legs under the table. “My dad was in law enforcement.”
“Ah.” Josie nodded. A lot of families were like that... Being on the force seemed to run in the blood. She cradled her belly. Not you, little one! I won’t allow it. “Well, when did you learn all this stuff?” She motioned over her shoulder, in the direction of her barn. “How to take care of cows and pigs and fix fences? Last I checked they don’t teach that on the force or in the army.”
“They sure don’t.” He chuckled and set his napkin on the table. “My uncle Blaine has a ranch not far from here, near Waco. I moved in with him when things went south with my stepdad. Blaine put me right to work.” Heath rubbed his hand over his smile. “He says there’s no such thing as hands that aren’t working on a ranch.”
“Good for your uncle.”
“I’m glad he did.” Heath steepled his fingers. “If he hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t be any help to you now.”
“What are you doing in Haven anyway?” Josie asked between bites. “Besides bugging me at my ranch, that is. And the calves mystery.” She rolled her eyes. Not because she wasn’t still scared about the possibility of a stranger having been hiding in the barn with her, but because it still seemed silly that a Texas Ranger was working the case. “We both know you didn’t take a month off to investigate that.”
Heath finished a piece of bacon. “Visiting Flint, mostly. And checking out the boys ranch, of course.”
“Do you know someone who might need to go there?”
“Having resources for troubled youth stored up here—” he tapped his forehead “—is good in my line of work.” He rested his forearms on the table. “How about you? Why do you volunteer there?”
Josie shrugged. “Everyone in Haven pitches in.”
“Did your husband?”
Not at all. Dale always gave the place a wide berth. “Why do you care—”
“I’m sorry.” He held up a hand. “Forget I asked.”
Josie plowed on anyway. “I’m a member of the Lone Star Cowboy League. We support the boys ranch. I’m there because I want to be, but also because it’s my duty as a member of the League. My husband wasn’t a member. You have to be a rancher to be involved... Dale wasn’t one. I only just joined. After.” She looked down.
“You didn’t have to answer,” Heath said. “My question was out of line. Job hazard. I’m used to asking whatever I want to know.” He smoothed his hand down his jaw. “How about this... Who’s your favorite kid on the ranch?”
She shifted her cup around and around in her hands. “I don’t have a favorite.”
“Of course you do.” His voice was gentle. “Who is it?”
“I guess, if I absolutely had to pick... I’d probably say Diego. He’s had a hard road in life. He’s this bright little guy who always has a serious expression on his face. Like he’s working out a math puzzle at all times.” Josie pulled a face, imitating Diego. Heath answered with a soft grin.
“His hair is almost black and his eyes are dark and soulful.” Josie found she was smiling but couldn’t help it. “He and I get along really well because he loves the cattle. He’s always the first one at the barn waiting for me and wants to pitch in on anything having to do with the calves. You could say I have a soft spot for him.”
Heath leaned forward. “What’s Diego in for?”
“In for?”
“All the boys there, they’re troublemakers. They wouldn’t be sent to the ranch if they weren’t. What’s Diego’s issue? What’d he do wrong?”
Josie bristled. There was nothing wrong with Diego. Nothing at all. Sometimes a child needed special attention. Sometimes they needed a change from normal life in order to work through something. But living at the ranch certainly wasn’t a punishment.
“You still don’t think well of them. Even after our talk yesterday?”
Heath’s expression became unreadable. “I know good, well-adjusted kids don’t end up there. Normal kids are at their homes...with their parents. I know bad things have happened at the boys ranch in the past.”
“With that attitude, it’s a wonder you’re willing to help Flint solve his case at all.” She scooted out of her seat and collected both of their plates.
“Attitude?” Heath turned in his chair so he could continue facing her as she moved to the sink. “That’s not attitude. It’s the truth.”
Josie dropped the dishes into the sink with a loud clang and turned around. “Those boys are flesh and blood with feelings and dreams and they just want to be loved and accepted. Same as you and me.” She laid her hand along her collarbone. “If you can’t see that, Officer, then you aren’t that great of a detective after all.”
“I’m sorry.” He looked down, studied the table. “Perhaps you’re right. After everything, I guess it’s hard to see them any other way.”
“After everything? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“My dad was a Texas Ranger. I don’t think I told you that before. But he was.”
He’d said his dad worked in law enforcement...but they were both Rangers? That was amazing. “You followed in his footsteps?”
Heath nodded. “I wanted to honor his sacrifice.” He looked down at his hands as if the lines on his palms were the most interesting things in the world. “Fifteen years ago, my father was working a case at your boys ranch.”
Josie’s heart sunk. She sucked in a loud breath. As someone who’d lost a loved one to the thin blue line, she knew where his story was going.
“They found him dead. Three bullets. Near the main barn on the old property.”
“Oh, Heath.” Josie crossed the kitchen and laid a hand on his shoulder. She squeezed. “I’m so sorry.” She blinked against the burn of tears, his words dragging up the ache of her loss.
“My dad’s murder is still a cold case. Unsolved.”
His hand came up and covered hers. It was warm and comforting. Josie’s throat spasmed. She missed the friendly touches of her past life...a quick hug, a shoulder brushing against a shoulder, holding a hand. She missed it so much she ached.
She drew her shaky hand out from under his. “Now that you mention it, I remember hearing about it on the news when it happened. It was a big deal in a town like Haven.”
He swiveled in the chair in order to make eye contact. “I’d like to solve the case, if I could.”
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
“Among other reasons.” He shrugged. “But I’d like to keep that private as much as I can, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.” She nodded. “My husband was a deputy.” Josie dropped into the seat beside Heath. Close enough that their knees bumped. “It started as a routine traffic stop and turned into him never coming home.” She got the words out before her throat clamped up again. But her voice pitched higher at the end, betraying her.
Heath reached over and took her hand. He held it between both of his. For a minute they sat in silence. Allowing each other to deal with their loss. Finding comfort in the fact that someone else understood.
Finally, Heath cleared his throat. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. No one should have to lose a loved one that way.”
She dabbed at her eyes and nodded. Staying in the pain, reliving everything, wouldn’t help her or her child. If Heath was still hanging on to the pain of losing his father, he needed to move toward letting that go, as well. But Josie knew how hard that could be. Still, she racked her brain for a way to enco
urage him.
She squeezed his fingers. “I know you said you would yesterday, but this is one more reason why you should volunteer at the ranch. There are ranch hands still working there who would have been working fifteen years ago. Someone might know something, Heath. Don’t you see?”
Heath looked off to the side for a second. Josie had noticed he did that when he was considering something.
“Some of the ranch hands are still there?” He captured her gaze again. His dark eyes swirled with questions. “Are you sure about that?”
“Very sure. I’ll have to talk to some of the old-timers, but I think I can get you a list of the names of people who still live in town who worked or volunteered when it happened.”
Heath rose to his feet. “Get your shoes on, Josie. Let’s head to the ranch.”
* * *
One hand on the steering wheel, the other cocked on the open window, Heath maneuvered his truck toward the boys ranch.
He stole a glance at Josie.
She’d wriggled more personal information out of him in the past two days than he’d told his coworkers in the nine years he’d worked for the Texas Department of Public Safety. They were the branch of the government that the Rangers functioned under. In order to be considered for the position of Ranger, Heath had worked as a state trooper for eight years first, in their investigative unit. Still, he was one of the youngest guys to be made a Ranger in a long time. He had a hunch that those in upper management remembered his father and that had paved his way. After all this time, he should be used to keeping a tight rein on his personal life, but Josie had somehow slipped under his defenses.
The woman should consider going into detective work.
She caught him looking at her and hugged her stomach. “My truck is just fine, you know. I could have driven myself.”
They’d gone toe-to-toe over her truck. She’d called him overbearing and he’d insisted on having the vehicle checked out before she continued to drive it. Texan winters weren’t bad, but still, anything could happen. And that thing wouldn’t be able to handle another accident if she did get caught in bad weather at some point. She’d said that was what caused the last fender bender, a storm. It was raining and she missed the stop sign. Ended up broadsided by a sedan.
Heath’s stomach tightened. The idea of Josie and her baby in an accident didn’t sit well with him. Not one bit.
He forced his fingers to relax his grip on the wheel. “Like I said before, let me take a look at it tomorrow. I know a little about cars.”
“You know a little about everything, don’t you?”
He popped his gaze back to her for a second, fighting a grin. This woman had exercised his smile muscles more than he cared to admit. “I’ve picked up things here and there.”
“I don’t like it.” She looked out the window.
“Let’s make sure it’s sound before your baby comes,” he added softly.
That did her in. She sighed and ran a hand across her stomach. “I guess that makes sense. If you’re sure you don’t mind.”
He threw on his blinker to turn into the ranch. “Have you had someone install a car seat for you yet?”
She laughed. “I still have three months.”
“They usually suggest doing it before...before it’s too close to your time. Just in case. Babies have a way of appearing whenever they want to.”
“And how do you know so much about babies?” She poked him in the arm a few times as she talked. The way his little sister used to when she was trying to be annoying. Although, when Josie did it, the action felt endearing.
“Not babies.” Those he knew nothing about and never would. “Car seats. I was trained as a car-seat technician when I worked with the troopers. I could teach you how to install one, if you’d like.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Josie had the door open and jumped down to the ground the second he put his truck in Park. She had told him on the way over that she needed to meet up with the minister who volunteered at the ranch. She’d catch him later or maybe find a ride home with someone else. He’d make sure he found her before she wanted to go home. Because her place was on the way back to the inn where he was staying... That was the only reason he should drive her home, of course.
Heath shook his head. She was trying to shake him. Poor woman. Did she really understand what he did for a living? Once he made his mind up about something, he could be pretty stubborn. The trait came in handy in his profession.
Still...what must she think of him for showing up at her house two days in a row? He’d do it tomorrow, too. And the day after that. The woman was alone and pregnant; she shouldn’t be managing the ranch on her own. Besides, she was the eyewitness to a possible crime. If the wrongdoer had spotted her, then Josie could be in danger. He wouldn’t scare her with that notion, but he’d stick close until things were sorted out.
Heath spotted Flint straightaway. He was near the heavy machinery, but when he saw Heath’s truck, Flint came striding across the yard. A big black dog yapped circles around his feet.
Heath grabbed his white Stetson, pushed it onto his head, then tucked his badge into his back pocket as he stepped down from his truck. He took in the barn, the fence posts, the large home—it was impossible for Heath to turn off his investigative eye. His brain seemed programmed to constantly log information, and look for weaknesses or issues. Things to fix, help, protect.
The black Lab bounded toward Heath, its tail smacking his legs while it used the running board on Heath’s truck to jump up into the driver’s seat, which put the animal at head level to lodge a full lick attack on Heath’s neck and face. Heath groaned and good-naturedly shoved the dog’s nose away so he couldn’t lick him any longer.
“Cowboy, down.” Flint reached around Heath, grabbed the dog’s collar and tugged him out of the truck. “Sorry about that.” Flint finally looked at Heath. The two men were about the same height, but that was where their similarities ended. Where Heath’s eyes were dark, Flint’s were blue; same for the hair—Heath had black to Flint’s blond.
“He’s only two,” Flint apologized. “Still learning his manners.”
“It’s fine.” Heath used the sleeve of his white button-down to sop the worst of the drool from his neck. “He still has better manners than most of the people I deal with.” He adjusted his hat. All the Rangers wore them for work, but he’d gotten so used to the feel of it on his head, Heath usually wore the Stetson at all times.
“Got a minute?” Flint released the dog and it took off toward the barn where a group of school-age boys were working a few ponies in the arena. Flint set his hands on the edge of his belt.
“Right. Down to business.”
Flint laughed.
Neither of them was a chitchat type of guy. That was probably why they’d gotten along so well during basic training.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about something,” Flint said as Heath came over.
Heath propped his hand on the edge of his holster. “I have all the time in the world right now.”
Flint leaned against the giant wheel of a tractor. “I told you about the gentleman who died and left us this new property. Didn’t I?”
“Cyrus Culpepper.”
“That’s the one.” Flint shook his head. “I forgot about how good you are at remembering things—facts.”
“That’s what they pay me for.”
“Well, I got some more facts for you, then.” Flint hooked his thumb in his pocket. “Culpepper left terms in his will. You know how our ranch used to be located on the other end of town?”
Heath nodded. The boys ranch had moved into their current location—the land from Culpepper’s will—only a week ago. Before then, they’d been located on a smaller piece of land.
“Well, it turns out Culpepper was on
e of the original residents from when the boys ranch was first started. One of his stipulations for us to keep the property and everything else he left is to have the original boys from the ranch back for the anniversary party in March.”
Heath waited for the punch line. There was always a punch line.
Flint shifted his weight, obviously uncomfortable with whatever he had to say. “I was tasked with tracking down a man by the name of Edmund Grayson. Maybe it’s a long shot, but I was wondering if you might be related to him. Does that name sound familiar?”
Edmund Grayson? But it couldn’t be...could it?
Heath sucked in a rattled breath.
Of course he knew that name—but no, it wasn’t possible. He wouldn’t believe it. Heath straightened his spine. Kicked his boot against one of the tractor tires to shake free of the dirt.
He cupped his hand along his jaw. “That’s my grandfather’s name, but he was never a resident at any of these ranches.”
“Is he from the Waco area?”
“He is that.” Heath nodded. “Born and lived in this area most of his life. He was a state trooper until he retired and moved to Florida.”
“Edmund’s not a common name,” Flint said gently.
It wasn’t, but there had to be two of them. If his grandfather had lived at the boys ranch, Heath would know. Wouldn’t he? That was something his father or grandfather would have mentioned at some point.
“I’m telling you, you have the wrong guy. My grandfather never went to one of these ranches. I’d know if he did. He would have told me. Especially after what happened to my dad, that would have come out at some point.”
Flint shuffled his feet. “It’s imperative that all four of the original residents are found and reunited at the celebration in March. If that doesn’t happen...we’ll lose all of this.” He raised his hands to encompass the land. “Edmund Grayson is a unique enough name. I haven’t been able to find another one with ties to the Waco area.”
The Ranger's Texas Proposal Page 4
