by B. J Daniels
He wished he could take back some of the things he’d said to her. “Wilder,” he admitted. “But I was going to say young, just a kid.”
She stopped abruptly and turned, hands on her hips. “Well, I’m not a kid anymore.”
“You can say that again!” He let out a low whistle.
She narrowed her gaze at him. “What is it about me that scares you so much?”
He laughed. “Everything about you scares me, Josie.”
She shook her head at him, thinking he was joking, and turned and headed on down the hill to the stables.
He caught up with her in two easy strides. “You have to understand, Josie. I care about you. But I’m going to find those jewels and who helped Odell and Raymond steal them. I have the feeling that I’m getting close. I think I’m making some people nervous.”
She wagged her head at him, not looking the least bit nervous. “You’re so sure of yourself, aren’t you, Jackson. But if Odell and Raymond did pull off the robbery, why couldn’t they have gotten rid of the jewels a long time ago? What would be the purpose in waiting so long? They don’t strike me as men with a lot of patience. And if they are the fools you think they are, why didn’t they try to fence the jewels?”
He’d already wondered the same thing. “You make a very good argument.” And she’d known both men better than he had. All he had was his gut instinct. His gut instinct and Raymond Degas had gotten him this far. Straight to Josie O’Malley. “I will find the jewels.”
“That’s all that matters, isn’t it?”
He met her gaze. “Yes. I need to know who stole them and how they did it. I have a theory that the thieves got to the security plans in my office at the ranch.”
Nothing showed in her expression, but her eyes seemed a shade darker blue.
“I’m not going back to Texas until I get both. And you’re going to help me.”
She shot him a disbelieving look. “Why would I do that?”
He arched a brow at her. “To prove that you had nothing to do with the robbery. If you have nothing to hide—”
Her gaze narrowed, hotter than a summer afternoon. “I forgot, I’m always guilty until proven innocent with you.”
“Raymond didn’t get what he came here for,” Clay said, angry with her for trying to make him feel guilty. “He’ll be back. I intend to be here. One way or the other.”
“I see,” she said, biting off each word. “What is it you want from me?”
What he’d dreamed he’d had one night on a creek bank in Texas. But that was pure fantasy, and most of the time, he knew it. “Just the truth, Josie.”
Anger flashed in her gaze. “You sure you can handle the truth, Jackson?”
She had him there. “I also thought you might want me to stay in the cabin so I’d be close by if you needed me.”
She laughed. “Well, then you thought wrong,” she said, turning her back on him as she stalked away, her hips swaying in her tight-fitting jeans.
Could he handle the truth? He damn sure hoped so.
THE AFTERNOON PASSED slowly, with Clay watching her every move. She finally quit early and went up to the cabin to prepare supper. Clay didn’t make any effort to pretend he wasn’t watching her like a hawk or that he wasn’t still hoping to be invited inside.
Fat chance.
She walked away from him a few yards from the cabin, and when she looked back, he was gone. But not far, she knew.
She made his favorite meal, opening the kitchen window to let the smell waft out to him. Let him eat his heart out. Let him go hungry. Let him suffer.
She’d planned to spend the evening with Ivy, but Mildred reminded her that the two of them were expected over at the neighbor’s for a birthday party.
Ivy and the little neighbor girl, Rachel, were the same age, and Mildred often got them together to play. “She gets sick of all us adults around,” Mildred would say of Ivy.
Josie didn’t want Ivy to go, and Mildred must have noticed.
“We won’t be late. It’s good for Ivy to be around other kids,” Mildred said.
She couldn’t argue that. She just felt uneasy. As if a storm were blowing in. But the sky was clear. Not a cloud in the dwindling blue. The only storm that had blown in was Clay Jackson.
After Mildred and Ivy left, the cabin seemed too quiet, especially knowing that Clay was out there. She tried to read, but was too restless to concentrate.
She knew there was only one thing that would relax her. Even though it was getting dark, she headed for the stables.
HE LIKED THE DARK. The vast emptiness of night. It had a familiar universal appeal. It defied reality. He could pretend he was in Texas. He could pretend he was deep underground.
He felt a small thrill at the thought. But as much as he liked the dark, it didn’t do for him what the caves did. He couldn’t wait to get back into the caverns. Except next time, he wasn’t going alone. Next time he’d have Ivy O’Malley with him.
He smiled at the thought, because it wasn’t the toddler he was thinking about but her mother. Ivy was only a means to an end. He’d known for a long time what he wanted. What he deserved. Now he knew how to get it.
He waited until the last of the sun died away before he moved. He preferred moving under the cloak of darkness. Like a vampire coming out of his casket, he felt ready to roam with the disappearing light. He felt an infinity with the night as if it brought him to life and made him invisible. Maybe even invincible.
He definitely felt stronger, more powerful. Ready. Ready to give Josie O’Malley just what she had coming to her. The thought made him salivate. He felt the familiar tightening in his loins, the hammering in his chest. Expectation. He couldn’t wait to see her face. She’d taken so much from him.
Eventually he’d take what she cherished most. Take Ivy to a place of endless darkness. And Josie would follow. Josie.
And Clay Jackson.
He swore softly under his breath. Hadn’t he always known he’d have to do something about Jackson?
He breathed in the night, shifting his thoughts to something more pleasant. It was hard not to rush his plans. Not to make mistakes.
But part of the fun was the anticipation, the planning. Unfortunately, he had a couple of flies in the ointment he’d have to deal with first. He wouldn’t let anyone mess this up. Not again. He was too close.
As he moved through the darkness, the moon shimmered off the rock bluffs behind the ranch. He considered how he would kill Clay Jackson. He just wished he’d done it a long time ago.
Chapter Six
Josie felt a prickling along her neck as she neared the stables. A feeling that she wasn’t alone and that someone other than Clay was out there.
She glanced around the ranch yard. Horses shifted restlessly in the corral. A cloud moved across the moon, extinguishing any light. Closer, a breeze ruffled her short hair and sent a chill down her back.
Cautiously she pushed open the door, gripping the flashlight she carried, realizing it made a lousy weapon. Raymond must have come back, just as Clay had predicted.
A sound came from out of the darkness.
“Who’s there?” she called out.
Silence. Then she heard the scrape of boots as someone approached, but in the opposite direction from where she’d thought she’d heard something.
A cowboy rounded the corner, his western hat slanted low over his face. As he shoved the hat back, she half expected to see Raymond Degas’s face.
“I figured you’d want to go for a ride,” Clay drawled. “I was hoping for an invitation.”
Her first instinct was to be rude. But she was too relieved it’d only been Clay. Also, as jumpy as she was, she didn’t really mind if he rode with her tonight.
She just needed to get out, to feel the freedom of being on a horse. And she figured she couldn’t get rid of him no matter what she did. She might as well have him where she could see him, as Ruth had suggested.
“I guess you might as well,” she said, heading for the
tack room. “You’re determined to hang around, anyway.”
He laughed as he joined her in the tack room, filling up the small space with his presence. “With an invitation like that, how can I refuse?”
She shoved a saddle at him, feeling his gaze on her. She didn’t dare lift her eyes to his. “You can ride Lady. She’s about your speed.”
He backed out of the tack room. “You’re too kind.”
“I’d hate to see you on your backside.” Again. She remembered the last time she’d watched him try to ride Diablo at his ranch in Texas.
“I’d think you’d have had your fill of horses for the day,” he said as they saddled up.
“I could never get my fill of horses. They’re intelligent, graceful and loyal, with a willing nature.” Everything that men weren’t.
And she’d always loved to ride at night. Now she usually rode in the afternoons, taking Ivy with her. But she missed riding hard and fast under a vast night sky. She used to believe she could outrun her troubles. She didn’t anymore.
THE NIGHT WAS DARK, only the faint hint of the moon hidden behind a thick bank of clouds as they rode out. No stars. Just shades of darkness splattered across the tall grass.
Clay rode out ahead of her. She’d always loved seeing him in the saddle. He rode tall, assured, as at home on a horse as he was anywhere. Sometimes he seemed to love horses as much as she did. Those times she felt herself soften toward him. A pull stronger than gravity.
She’d felt the same way earlier, watching him with Ivy. Who knew the man could possess such tenderness?
She let the wind blow back her hair as she loped across the field to catch him. The breeze caressed her face, the horse beneath her soothed her, and the night seemed filled with an electric excitement.
He seemed as lost as she was in the ride, his face turned to the black rough line of the mountain peaks and the clouds that hung like a shroud over them, hiding more than the moon from the night, making the vast landscape seem smaller, almost intimate.
They didn’t speak as they rode toward the light-colored bluffs of the old buffalo jump. The darkness felt thick with an eager silence as if holding its breath.
Josie brought her horse to a halt at the bottom of the cliffs and climbed down to stare up at the rough rock face. She often rode up here, thinking sometimes she could feel the history that lingered like the dying sun on the rocks. Tonight, though, she felt nothing but the man beside her as Clay dismounted and joined her.
She sensed his body heat as if it were drawing toward her. The masculine scent of him mixed with the smell of leather and horses. Intoxicating. Her body felt alive, everything magnified as if this were her first night here, as if she were experiencing it all for the first time. Seeing it, feeling it, sensing it not only through her own eyes but through his as well.
He was close. Too close. To her. To the truth.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse with unexpected emotion. He knew that this place was special to her, the same way he’d known she’d want to ride tonight. He knew her, better than any man ever had. And yet, he didn’t know her at all.
She looked over at him, surprised that he understood what this place meant to her.
He smiled, acknowledging that surprise. But it was a sad smile full of regret.
She wanted to say something, but the moment seemed lost. Was Ruth right? Had she misjudged him? Just as he had her? Was that why it surprised her when he knew anything halfway good about her?
“We’d better get back,” she said, mounting up. She hated to cut her ride short, but she realized this had been a bad idea. Being alone with Clay only reminded her of Texas and the past.
She rode toward the Madison River and the ranch, letting the horse run, thankful Clay didn’t try to catch up to her or, worse yet, try to talk to her. She didn’t like the feeling that she might be wrong about him. Wrong about herself.
She reminded herself why Clay was here. To find the jewels. And the thieves. If she was smart, she’d be very careful. Thinking of Clay as anything other than the enemy would be a huge mistake. One she’d made once before. And look how that had turned out.
She raced through the tall grass, letting the horse go, the wind roaring past along with the darkness. In the distance she could see the ranch, the yard light glowing.
She headed for it, knowing Clay wasn’t far behind, and slowed to let her horse cool down.
But Clay didn’t catch her until she reached the ranch yard. She pulled up short when she saw the expression on his face.
“What is it?” she asked in a whisper, his gaze scaring her.
He stared at her as if seeing a stranger. Did he really know this woman? It appeared not. But at the same time, he wondered if he knew her even better than he thought he did. Much better.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he said, unable to take his eyes off her. “Why?”
She eyed him for a moment, then shook her head and dismounted to lead her horse toward the stables.
“You ride very well,” he commented, trying to hide the true extent of his surprise as he dismounted and followed her toward the stables.
He’d never known she could ride like that. He’d watched her gallop across the pasture, the dim moonlight illuminating only her pale blond hair and the light-colored flanks of the horse beneath her. She looked like a spirit, some night sprite. Just the reflection of a woman on a horse riding through the night.
Stunned, he realized he’d seen her ride like this once before. His heart quickened, his pulse pounding at his temple as he remembered Josie in the dream. And then in the pen earlier with the unbroken stallion.
It was possible that Josie had ridden Diablo.
The realization hit him hard, filling his head with all the implications. If she could gentle a stallion like she had today, if she could ride like she had tonight, if she had ridden Diablo that night in Texas—
“Are you all right?”
Her voice dragged him from his thoughts. He looked down at her. She stood next to him, looking at him with concern in her gaze.
“I’m fine,” he lied as he reminded himself of all the reasons that night had been nothing more than a dream. There weren’t as many reasons anymore, though. But one good one still remained. When he’d made love to the Josie in his dreams, she’d been a virgin.
The wildest thing east of the Pecos, a virgin? Still, he couldn’t shake the image of her on that horse tonight. One with the horse. As confident on a horse as she was with Ivy.
He realized her gaze was still on him, questioning. “I feel as if you cut your ride short because of me. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head and looked away. “I was ready to get back.”
At least that sounded like the truth. He unsaddled the horse and took the saddle into the tack room, which someone had put back in order. He couldn’t help wondering what Raymond Degas had been looking for in here.
When he came back out, Josie had put the horses in the corral and stood looking toward the barn on the far side of the stables.
He felt his heart rate jump at the expression on her face. “What?”
“I heard something over by the barn,” she whispered, sounding as if she hated to be the one to tell him. Hated that it was happening again. Was it possible she was as confused as he was about all this? “It sounded like it was coming from one of the horse trailers.”
“Stay here,” he ordered, and took off at a run toward the barn. He was only mildly surprised to hear Josie hot on his heels.
It had to be Raymond, he thought as he slowed beside the barn, wishing he had a weapon. He’d left his pistol locked in his truck, not wanting it around the baby.
He chastised himself for going on the ride. He should have stayed here and watched for Raymond. Except he didn’t like letting Josie out of his sight. Because he couldn’t trust her. A lie. Because he was worried about her.
That little bit of honesty concerned him. He was letting a woman, who w
as more than likely a jewel thief—at the least, an accomplice—distract him from what he had to do.
At the horse trailers, he turned to look back at Josie. She had an anxious, worried look on her face that made him wonder if she wanted to talk to Raymond as badly as he did. Maybe more. With Odell dead, Raymond might be the only one who knew where the jewels were. Or he might be the only one alive who could implicate her in the jewel robbery. Blackness bathed this side of the barn, making the horse trailers barely distinguishable. Clay followed the faint rustling sound. Was someone searching one of the horse trailers? It wasn’t until he was so close he could touch it, that he saw which trailer it was. Josie’s. The one she’d taken when she left Texas.
He’d known she was gone for good when he’d heard she’d taken not only her clothes but her truck, horse, horse trailer and tack.
The consequences of Raymond banging around in her horse trailer only further fueled his suspicions. He glanced back at her, telling himself he’d be a fool to turn his back on this woman for long.
He had that “I told you so” look on his face, the one that infuriated her so. Was it now her fault that someone was in her horse trailer? She felt sick inside. First the man in the pines. Then someone in the tack room. Now her horse trailer. Why? And who was it? Raymond Degas?
But what worried her most was the look in Clay’s eyes when he’d come riding in a few minutes ago. He’d looked as if he’d seen a ghost. As if she’d done something to make him more suspicious of her.
She followed him now, keeping close, hoping against all hope that he was wrong. That whoever was rummaging around in the trailer wasn’t Raymond. Wasn’t anyone she knew. Didn’t have anything to do with the jewel robbery or Texas or Odell or the past. And especially had nothing to do with her.
But she knew it was too much to hope for.
Clay motioned for her to keep back, his expression threatening. She nodded grudgingly and moved back some as he approached the trailer’s side door. Her boot toe stubbed something solid and metallic in the tall grass. She bent down to pick up a foot-long piece of galvanized pipe. A weapon.
