by B. J Daniels
“Have you seen Reggie?” he demanded, not surprised to find his mother and sister behind him. They both shook their heads.
“She was in here packing, planning to leave as soon as the commercial was over,” Shelby said, accusingly. “She was upset.”
He glanced around the room. Her suitcase was open on the bed, packed, ready to leave. But he’d seen her little red rental sports car on his way into the house. It was parked out front.
“See if she is outside with the crew,” he said, glancing toward the back door. “I’m going to check out back. If you find her, keep her with you.”
“James Thomas, what is going on?” his mother demanded.
“The killer could have her.” And then he was gone out the back door. He hadn’t gone but a few feet into the trees when he saw the fresh tracks.
His mother had insisted on an area of lawn behind the house and Asa had had sod put in and a sprinkler system that came on every few hours during the summer.
The grass was wet now from early frost. So was the ground at the edge of the lawn. Boot tracks. And another track where someone had been dragged, heels digging into the wet earth.
He looked up and saw the old shed in the distance and began to run toward it. He hadn’t gone far when he heard something heavy crash to the floor and then a scream.
REGINA TRIED to fight Claude off but he was too strong for her. He held her down while he began to bind her wrists in front of her with the cord.
She kicked and screamed until he hit her again, making her see stars. He bound her ankles, holding her down where she couldn’t kick out at him. The shed floor was rough against her back as he pressed her into the wood and dust. She struggled to breathe, the pressure of his body on her heavy and painful. And then he released her.
She futilely fought the cords he’d put around her wrists and ankles, as she heard the splash of liquid against the walls and smelled the gasoline.
J.T. HIT THE SHED DOOR, bursting into the shed in time to see Claude Ryan dumping gasoline on the floor of the shed.
Claude stopped when he saw J.T., dropping the can to pull the knife. He smiled. “You’re a little early. The party hasn’t started.” Claude had a lighter in his other hand, his thumb poised over it, ready to flick the flame to life.
J.T. saw Reggie on the floor behind Claude. She was bound, eyes wide in the dim darkness. If Claude ignited the shed from where he stood, he wouldn’t be able to get out. But then neither would J.T. be able to get to Reggie in time.
“You do that and you will burn up in this shed,” J.T. said, looking at the lighter. He thought about rushing the man but knew Claude would set the shed on fire if he did. “I’m not letting you past me. I’ll die first.”
Claude Ryan laughed. “You’ll die first all right.” His expression turned mean. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this day, J. T. McCall?” He glanced over his shoulder for just an instant at Reggie. “I have something you want for a change and there is nothing you can do about it.”
“You would burn up in this shed to even some score between us?” J.T. saw the insanity in Claude’s gaze, knew this had never really been about him. It was something inside of Claude Ryan, something sick that had only gotten more malignant over the years.
Behind Claude, J.T. saw Reggie. She had pushed herself against the wall and managed to get to her feet. Balancing precariously, ankles and wrists still bound, she worked her way over to the shovels leaning against the wall. Did she hope to cut the cord on the dull blade of the shovel? He knew it was futile. No way was Claude going to give either of them that much time.
“I know you,” Claude said smiling again. “You won’t be able to live with yourself if you can’t save the damsel in distress.” He flicked on the lighter. The flame flared, catching a light in Claude Ryan’s eyes that chilled J.T. to his soul. Claude tossed the lighter toward the wall he’d just soaked with gasoline.
But only an instant before, Reggie had gripped the shovel handle and throwing her body into it, managed to swing the shovel as she fell.
The shovel blade caught Claude in the center of the back. Off balance and not expecting the attack from behind, Claude was knocked against the wall as the lighter dropped, the flame licking at the gasoline and the air suddenly whooshed in a bright loud boom—Claude right at the center.
Flames leapt on him, setting his clothing on fire in an instant. He shrieked, arms and legs flailing in a dance of horror as his body went up in a blaze.
J.T. dove for Reggie, sweeping her up in his arms and lunging out the door of the shed an instant before it exploded.
Epilogue
J.T. CAME OUT of the barn, swearing under his breath as he looked toward the ranch house. Christmas lights blinked through the falling snow. His mother’s doing. She had announced that they were going to have an old-fashioned Christmas this year.
He’d caught her crying just this morning as she was wrapping presents.
“I’m just feeling a little sentimental,” she’d said when he asked her if something was wrong. “This is my first Christmas with all of you.”
He hadn’t pointed out that it had been her choice—and his father’s. He’d just nodded and left the room, running into Rourke and Cassidy. They’d come back from their honeymoon and had taken over one wing of the house until they could break ground on their place in the spring.
He’d never seen Rourke so content or happy. Even Dusty was getting along better with Shelby, although like the rest of them she wasn’t calling her Mother yet. Brandon was obviously still seeing his mystery girlfriend and actually seemed to be enjoying working on the ranch. He was to start law school next fall.
Cash had come out to help their mother decorate and put up strings and strings of lights. Asa had insisted on getting the Christmas tree, riding up into the hills to bring back a huge tree that was now glittering in the living room.
It was as if his entire family had been transformed into a Christmas special. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits except him.
He still had nightmares about fires. Only this time Claude died in the shed fire. Cash and the state investigators found his body and made a positive identification based on the DNA samples. Claude Ryan was dead. J.T. paid to have him buried at the local cemetery. He’d even bought him a stone that read May He Rest In Peace under his name and dates.
He and Reggie had talked before she left for Los Angeles. She’d admitted that she owned the jeans company. It had been passed down to her by her mother and grandmother, but it was in trouble financially. She had to make one last-ditch attempt to change the company’s image. Her mother and grandmother were depending on her.
She’d never wanted the company, never wanted that life to be hers but hadn’t known anything different because she’d been raised in the garment industry.
But neither her mother or grandmother had realized the need to change the company’s image until it was too late. Both were broke. It had been left up to Reggie to save the company and take care of her mother and grandmother.
She was sure this new commercial promotion would do it. Then she had intended to take the company public, set up a trust fund for her mother and grandmother and finally get a chance to decide what she wanted out of life.
J.T. had listened to how she had to return to Los Angeles to finish what she’d started.
“I want to come back,” she’d said. “Back here, that is if…”
He’d been so surprised he hadn’t said anything for a moment. And he certainly hadn’t said what was in his heart. He believed that once she got back to Los Angeles, she would never want to return to Montana. Not to a ranch in the middle of nowhere. Not to this life. Once she’d gotten the jeans company back on its feet and sold it, she’d have enough money to do whatever she wanted. He couldn’t imagine she would want Montana ranch life or him.
“You know you’re always welcome here,” he’d said.
She nodded, biting down on her lower lip, tears in her eyes. “I’m
sorry I didn’t tell you everything from the beginning.”
“It wouldn’t have made any difference,” he said. The commercial had come out. He was now known as Hollywood McCall in town. It hadn’t been as bad as he’d thought it would be. He tried not to catch the commercial when it came on TV. It only reminded him of Reggie. He just hoped the promotion turned her jeans company around and that she was happy.
As he walked through the snowstorm toward the house, he realized he would do the commercial over in a heartbeat just to have Reggie back here. His whole family had missed her after she’d left but not half as much as he did.
Hell, he’d fallen for her against every ounce of common sense he’d ever had. And his heart broke to think that he would probably never see her again.
As he neared the house, he heard laughter over the sound of Christmas music and started to turn around and go back to the barn. He had no Christmas spirit this year, wasn’t sure he would ever again.
“McCall?”
He looked up at the sound of her voice, caught half-turning back toward the barn.
She was standing at the end of the porch, her dark hair floating around her shoulders. She had on a sheepskin coat, jeans and boots and she looked so right standing next to the ranch house that his heart just stopped.
“Reggie?” He thought he must be seeing things.
“I told you I’d be back.” The snow fell around her as she stepped off the porch and came toward him. “The commercial promotion worked. I don’t have to worry about my mother and grandmother anymore. I’m free.”
He just stared at her. Was she saying what he hoped she was?
“I love you, James Thomas McCall. I had to come back and tell you.”
“Reggie.” His voice broke and his feet were moving and she was smiling at him, crying, running toward him now. He threw his arms around her. Nothing had felt more right than holding her.
Snowflakes drifted down around them. She snuggled against him. “Merry Christmas, McCall.”
He pulled back to look down into her face. “Oh Reggie, I love you. Merry Christmas.” He kissed her, lifting her into his arms. He would have carried her away but the Christmas music seemed to grow louder and when he raised his lips from hers, he saw his entire family on the porch. They began to applaud.
And he realized how much he loved them and needed them. This was going to be the best Christmas he’d ever had. But it was only the first of many. He put his arm around Reggie and they walked back toward the ranch house and his family.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-6174-1
COWBOY ACCOMPLICE
Copyright © 2004 by Barbara Heinlein
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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*Cascades Concealed
*Cascades Concealed
*Cascades Concealed
†McCalls’ Montana
†McCalls’ Montana
