Cowboy Justice

Home > Romance > Cowboy Justice > Page 15
Cowboy Justice Page 15

by Patricia Rosemoor


  The first faint rays of dawn were lighting the landscape even as horse and rider burst from the canyon.

  Behind him, Gray could hear the man gathering up his mount, slowing him, bringing him to a dead stop.

  He was almost to his goal when he heard the sharp click of metal on metal as the kidnapper readied his rifle.

  “Stop, Matlock!”

  But Gray decided to chance it. Functioning fine now, he could hold his own. And he was almost to a place where he could force a confrontation.

  It was the bullet that brought him face-to-face with reality—the bullet and the searing pain and his own blood blooming across the front of his shirt....

  Chapter Eleven

  Sunday

  Reine floated awake. Dust motes danced through the shaft of light that swept over the bed, and she happily tried to catch them. But they were as elusive as... well, love.

  She couldn’t remember ever feeling so wonderful. Or so sore. Not all of her aches were the result of her run-in with the low rider, either.

  Remembering the night that had followed made her grin.

  Even remembering how and why she and Cash were together didn’t wipe the smile from her lips. This morning she was convinced. Together, she and Cash could do anything, even rescue Gray.

  All for one and one for all...

  In everything but the bedroom, of course, she thought with an unladylike snort.

  Getting out of bed, she nearly tripped over the shirt Cash had discarded on the floor along with the rest of his clothing. She slipped into it, and, inhaling his fragrance with a contented sigh, wandered barefoot around the room. The sound of the shower told her where she could find Cash if she could bear to be made love to yet another time.

  Then again, one more time might lead to another and another—which would be fine with her if they didn’t have such pressing concerns.

  Yawning, she stretched and wandered into the small gallery joining his master bedroom and office. She was admiring an R. C. Gorman watercolor—a Pueblo woman who reminded her of Luna—when the phone rang. She thought to alert Cash, then decided she might as well let the answering machine do its job.

  “Cash Abreu here. State your business,” came the crisp message echoing from his office.

  “Abreu. We need to talk. There’s a foul-up in our plan.”

  That sounded like Sam Valdez. Reine frowned. Surely she was mistaken.

  But when the man at the other end said, “Marlene had it all wrong,” her stomach clutched.

  What plan could the two of them have in common? she asked herself. Something involving her aunt.

  “Getting out of the marriage won’t do the trick, and the old bastard won’t budge,” Valdez said tersely. “We’re gonna have to figure out some other way to get our hands on that river property,” he concluded.

  That left Reine stunned.

  WHEN CASH LEFT THE bathroom, he immediately zeroed in on Reine. Surprisingly, she was fully dressed—he’d been certain she’d planned on showering again, since her last shower had led to more lovemaking—and she was standing in front of the mirror, trying to tame her hair.

  “Leave it. I like it wild.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and thought of the long night they’d shared. “I like you wild.”

  She met his gaze in the mirror. “Is that why you went after me?”

  Thinking the question oddly phrased, he murmured, “I don’t get it.”

  “Because I’d be wild. Or was it something else altogether?”

  Hearing the catch in her voice, he studied her mirror image, but her expression was impassive. Still, he had this feeling—no, a certainty—that something was wrong.

  “You’re in a strange mood.”

  “You did warn me you wanted me, Cash. Many times. Only you never said why.”

  “Isn’t that obvious?”

  “No, not really.”

  “For one,” he said, running his knuckles down the side of her face, “look at you.”

  “Let’s do that. I’m blond, reasonably attractive—”

  “Stunning,” he interrupted.

  This was getting a little weird. What in hell had gone on in the ten minutes he’d left her alone to shower and dress?

  She continued. “I have an okay body—”

  “You don’t have to be so modest. You’re perfect.”

  “Like a piece of artwork?”

  “Only you live and breathe.”

  “But still a possession. Something you... collect, show off to the world.”

  Back to that again. Was that what was bothering her? That she feared he saw her as nothing more than a possession? He shoved away the twinge of guilt when he remembered that was pretty much the way he had thought about her at first. But everything had changed.

  He had changed.

  Trying to reassure Reine, Cash said, “I thought we finished this conversation the other night.”

  “Not to my satisfaction.”

  Wanting to kiss away her doubts, he turned her to face him. “Let me try to satisfy you, then.”

  Reine shrugged away from him and wrapped her arms around her middle as if she were trying to protect herself—from him.

  “A woman likes to think a man wants her for more than her looks.”

  “Don’t you think I know there’s more to you than what’s in that mirror? Inside, you’re rich with warmth and caring and loyalty.”

  All were things he’d ached for without her.

  “‘All for one and one for all,’ right?” Her smile was bittersweet. “What’s inside you, Cash?”

  “No one’s perfect, but I think you already know the good things along with the bad.”

  “Do I? Everything?” When he didn’t answer immediately, she asked, “No secrets?”

  Now Reine was scaring him. “Where are you going with this?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Tell you what?”

  The rising tension between them almost made him shout at her. He curled his hands into fists and told himself not to lose his temper. Relationships were scary. She merely needed to be reassured.

  “For starters,” she was saying, “what exactly do you and Sam Valdez have in common?”

  His stomach dropped. “You know. How?”

  “Valdez needs to learn discretion. He called when you were in the shower, and I let the answering machine pick up. It seems that Uncle Jasper’s river property won’t be available to the two of you, after all.”

  “I can explain.”

  “How you and Valdez schemed to get it?”

  “That was before—”

  “What? Me?”

  “Gray,” Cash said, suddenly feeling desperate. If he didn’t do this right, he was going to lose her. “Before Gray disappeared.”

  “Interesting. Because I don’t believe that Aunt Marlene had any reason to consider selling—be—fore—did she?”

  Cash cursed under his breath. “You can’t think that I set this whole thing up.”

  “Why not?”

  “I would never hurt Gray any more than I would hurt you.”

  “Well, then, there it is,” Reine said, laughing without humor. “What you did to me seventeen years ago wasn’t supposed to hurt, right?” She shook her head. “It would be ironic if Uncle Jasper had you pinned all along.”

  “I swear to you that I had nothing to do with Gray’s kidnapping.”

  “Just as you had nothing to do with trying to destroy Matlock Construction?”

  “It’s not the same thing.”

  “No? You vowed to strip Uncle Jasper of everything he ever cared about. He does care about both his son and his company, if not with equal fervor. And though he gives me a hard time, he cares for me, too. He would hate knowing I’d succumbed to your charms again. The only things left out of the equation are Matlock Ranch and his marriage to my aunt, both of which could have gone down with one genius stroke. Well, almost genius. You still have some work to do there.”

  Cash knew t
hat, everything combined, she had reason to be upset. It looked bad. And yet he couldn’t help being angry. Did she think so little of him? Did she not believe a word that came out of his mouth?

  “I didn’t use Marlene any more than I’m using you,” he said. “She went to Valdez with the offer. And I never agreed to it. You’ve got it all wrong, Reine.”

  “What about Sam Valdez? Did he have it wrong when he said ‘our plan’?”

  “I told him I’d have to think about the offer and I have. I decided I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t steal my own brother’s ‘legacy,’ as you so aptly called it. And I couldn’t betray you that way.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me about it?”

  “This is why. Your attitude. Your assumptions. You don’t trust me.”

  “And why should I?”

  “Because, whatever else I’ve done, I’ve never lied to you, Reine.”

  “Never? You once told me you loved me. And the next day you were gone.”

  Cash was furious. His loving her hadn’t been a lie. Circumstances—namely, Jasper Matlock—had driven him from her. And he’d been a plain fool to let it happen.

  Why couldn’t she see that?

  Either she believed in him or she didn’t, and he feared he knew which direction the wind was blowing.

  “I’m through with this,” he said coldly.

  Her expression stricken, she whispered, “Then so am I.”

  When she rushed out of the room, he didn’t try to stop her. Instead, he picked up the nearest thing at hand—a century-old ceramic bowl he’d paid a fortune for at auction—and threw it against the wall. Its shattering into pieces didn’t make him feel any better.

  He stood there, staring at them, stunned.

  What the hell had just happened?

  It couldn’t be over. Not this time.

  And where did Reine think she was going without a car?

  Cash stormed through the house, expecting Reine to be cooling her heels in the drive.

  She wasn’t there.

  Standing next to the swing where they’d made love the night before, he watched her cut across his land on foot, knowing exactly where she was headed.

  He would have expected her to be angry and disappointed at learning he’d been plotting with Valdez, but her reaction had been out of hand. Why was she so ready to believe the worst of him at every turn?

  Ready to believe Jasper Matlock over him.

  Ready to stand by Matlock’s side rather than his! Again.

  History was repeating itself and Cash feared that no matter what he did, he couldn’t alter it.

  BY THE TIME SHE CAME within sight of the house, having walked for a couple of hours, Reine was exhausted physically as well as emotionally.

  With every step she’d taken across the rocky land, she’d gone over and over the argument until she was sick to death of it. Considering the circumstances, she just couldn’t see how things could have turned out any differently.

  Whether or not she believed Cash was responsible for Gray’s disappearance—which she didn’t, really—was not the issue. She’d let him think as much just to hurt him the way she’d been hurting. That he had been plotting with Valdez to get the land for who knew how long had only a perfunctory bearing on the way she felt.

  That Cash had known about Aunt Marlene, however, had been an involved party to the proposition, and that he hadn’t told her even when he’d decided to pass on the deal—those had been the deciding factors in her mind.

  Which wasn’t to dismiss her very real fears of Cash wanting her in the same way as he did any of his possessions. Except she had added value, Reine reminded herself, still suspecting that part of the allure of having her was knowing what that would do to Uncle Jasper.

  And Cash had let her walk out the door so easily....

  That she had known about Marlene’s going to Valdez, and hadn’t told Cash didn’t enter into the picture, Reine had decided. It had been her aunt’s confidence to share, and her responsibility to keep her mouth shut. She’d had nothing to gain from the situation.

  With that justification firmly fixed in her mind, Reine entered the house and practically ran into her uncle, who seemed to be in a hurry to leave.

  “Have you heard anything?” she asked anxiously.

  He shook his head. “Not yet. Where have you been? I expected you to make a pest of yourself and I’ve hardly seen you around.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  He stared at her and scowled as if he could read her mind. To her surprise, he didn’t comment, but said, “I’ve got some business to take care of.”

  “On Sunday?” she asked.

  “This can’t wait” Jasper started to pass her, then hesitated. He reached out and gently pushed a strand of her hair away from her forehead. “You always did look pretty when you let your hair down.”

  Then he left and Reine had trouble swallowing past the lump in her throat. Uncle Jasper paid so few compliments, his words were akin to his telling her he loved her.

  Before going upstairs, she decided to check the dayroom for her aunt. Marlene was asleep on the chaise longue, her swollen and tearstained face at peace for the moment. Crying inside, herself, she wanted nothing more than to feel her aunt’s arms around her and to hear a few words of comfort. But, certain that Marlene had none to give, and fearing that heaping anything more on the poor woman would be too much for her to bear, Reine decided to let her be.

  She went upstairs, to the rooms that were still hers. Several changes of clothing hung in her closet. Considering how much time she spent at the ranch, it had seemed foolish dragging things back and forth. She had everything she needed here.

  Everything but Cash.

  Heartbroken, she stepped into the shower, determined to wash away the lingering scent of him. She scrubbed and scrubbed her skin, but still she could smell him... taste him...feel him. Finally, hot water beating down on her, she gave in to tears. A good cry should make her feel better.

  Only it didn’t.

  Nothing would ever make her feel better again—except maybe doing something more about Gray.

  So, washed and dressed in jeans and a cotton shirt, Reine left the house and borrowed the old four-by-four Uncle Jasper kept threatening to consign to the junk heap.

  Tobiah Hill had a small place of his own on the property just up the road; the same house that had been assigned to Zane Abreu when he’d been foreman.

  How many times had she played with Cash and Gray in its front yard? How many times had Luna fed them all in her tiny kitchen?

  Reine tried not to let childhood memories intrude when she parked and left the vehicle.

  Apparently having heard her drive up, Tobiah looked out at her from the front-room window. She waved at him. A moment later, he met her on the porch.

  “Something wrong at the house?” he immediately asked, his brow wrinkled in concern.

  “Yes. Gray still isn’t home. That’s why I’m here.”

  “Don’t know anything more’n I did yesterday,” he warned her.

  “Maybe yesterday I didn’t think of all the right questions to ask.”

  “Want to come in?”

  Wanting to keep the emotional memories to a minimum, Reine indicated the weathered wooden chairs facing each other on the porch. “Out here’ll do. This won’t take long.”

  “Fine by me.”

  Tobiah waited until she was seated before settling in the other chair.

  “How well do you know Ozzie Skinner?” she asked.

  “Skinner? He’s a drifter. Comes and goes. At the moment, he’s gone.”

  “You did fire him, then.”

  “Nope. Didn’t have to. He collected his week’s pay and told me to expect him when I saw him.”

  Which made the man sound like he could be the kidnapper, Reine thought. Or one of them. He’d had easy access to both the ranch and Gray.

  “I told him not to bother coming back,” Tobiah added. “What’s your interest?�


  “Yesterday morning Skinner was in Espanola when I figured he should have been working.”

  “He reported on time—must’ve sneaked away. Can’t say as I’m surprised. Wasn’t the first time no one could find him during the last week or so.”

  Because he’d been sneaking around, plotting? Then checking in with a cohort?

  “I saw him with a fair-haired man,” Reine went on, “who had a scar here.” She indicated the spot on her own lip. “Made him look like he was snarling. Then last night, when Cash and I were trying to find out what happened to Gray, someone tried running me over in a low rider. I got a glimpse of the driver—Skinner’s friend.”

  “Closer’n that,” Tobiah said. “That’d be his cousin, Lloyd Rynko. He’s a bad one. Spent some time in the pen.”

  Reine’s pulse quickened. “For what?”

  “Grand theft auto...and for murder.”

  JASPER COULDN’T BELIEVE he’d come to this, crawling to a man like Evan Bixler for help. From the other side of the bar, the smug son of a bitch was smiling at him through a thick wreath of cigar smoke.

  “Well, Matlock, never thought I’d see you step foot in my establishment.”

  Jasper sat himself at the bar. “Never thought I’d be in some place called The Bix Box, neither.”

  “The first drink’s on the house. What can I get you?”

  “I’m not here to drink.”

  “Then, what can I do for you?”

  Though he was sweating inside, Jasper tried to remain cool. He was hoping to add a couple of hundred thousand to what he could scrape together from his and Marlene’s personal worth. Then he’d see what he could work out about the river property—maybe remortgage it. He was willing to grasp any straw offered. Gray’s life might depend on it.

  He was done with fooling himself.

  “It’s what I can do for you,” he told Bixler with a hearty smile. “I gave your offer on Matlock Construction due consideration.”

  “I recollect your turning me down flat.”

  “Then I decided I was too hasty and thought again. I’m ready to sell.”

  “How interesting. And how fortuitous for you—your son is ready to buy.”

 

‹ Prev