Wyoming Bold (Mills & Boon M&B)

by Diana Palmer

“I wouldn’t mind supper,” Cody replied with a grin. “I’m so tired of burnt eggs and half-cooked bacon.”

  “You’re not married?” Rourke asked.

  Cody shook his head sadly. “You know that new strain of flu that’s going around, the deadly one? She was a doctor. She was treating a patient in a hospital down in Boulder. She died.”

  “I’m sorry,” Rourke said softly.

  “Me, too,” Cody replied. “It was over a year ago, but it takes some getting used to. We’d only been married two years.”

  Tank looked at Merissa and imagined how he would have felt in Cody’s position. It was devastating.

  “What about Clara and Merissa?” he asked the room at large. “Are they going to be safe here?”

  “You want a gut reply, no,” Rourke said abruptly. “If he’s brazen enough to kill one of his own accomplices, he’ll kill anybody. He brought Clara’s husband back here for some reason that we don’t know. But it means he’s targeted them. Maybe he knew the man’s past and hoped he’d kill them.” He shook his head. “Whatever the reason, they’re in as much danger as you are.”

  “They can come and live at the ranch,” Tank said. “We’ve got three spare bedrooms. It’s a huge place.”

  “It’s such an imposition,” Clara protested.

  “Yes,” Merissa added worriedly.

  Tank just smiled. “Lots of room and good company. You can play with Mallory’s baby, too,” he added.

  Clara and Merissa just melted. “Their little boy?” Merissa asked, and her eyes lit up. “I love babies.”

  Tank looked absolutely smitten. He sighed and smiled to himself.

  “Babies!” Carson’s face was harder than stone. He turned on his heel and walked away. It was such an odd reaction that Tank and Rourke exchanged curious looks.

  “Well, if you want my vote,” Cody added, “I think it’s a good idea to get the women out of here. This place is too isolated for comfort.”

  “I don’t know,” Merissa said after a minute. “I mean, we’ve been here all this time alone and he hasn’t tried anything. He’s bugged the phones, but he didn’t try to hurt us.”

  “That’s true,” Clara said. She sighed. “I just don’t understand what he wants from us.”

  “To torture him, of course,” Rourke said, jerking his head toward Tank. “To make him nervous, unsettle him, keep him off his guard. Maybe keep him from remembering something the enemy doesn’t want remembered.”

  “Enemy.” Cody chuckled. “War term.”

  Rourke shrugged. “I’ve spent my life fighting small wars all over the world, in and out of the military. Force of habit.”

  “Then if he’s just trying to unsettle us, it won’t matter if we stay here,” Merissa said softly. She looked up at Tank worriedly. “I’m sorry, it’s a generous offer, really it is. But I’m uneasy around other people. I just don’t...socialize all that much. And if I’m upset, I can’t work.”

  Tank was disappointed. And worried. “You’d have a room all to yourself.”

  She nodded. “Yes, but you have a big family. They’re very nice,” she added, holding up a hand. “But I’m a solitary person.” She looked very worried. “I’m odd, you know. I don’t fit in with other people.”

  “You fit in with me,” he pointed out and he smiled.

  She smiled back. “Of course. But...”

  “Don’t force her,” Clara said softly. “We’ve both had too much of that in our lives, both physical and verbal.”

  “Okay,” Tank said at once. “I won’t.” He looked at Merissa with a speaking expression. “But I’m going to worry.”

  Merissa smiled. “We’ll be okay.”

  “Yes, they will,” Carson said quietly, returning to the porch. “I’m moving in here.”

  “What?” three voices said in unison.

  Carson glared at the two men. “Rourke can’t stay here and watch you, too,” he told Tank. “Besides, how do you think the rogue agent knew about her husband?” He indicated Clara.

  “He bugged the phones,” Tank said. “But we found all the bugs, right?” he asked Rourke, who’d done the sweep.

  “We were talking about Bill before you found them,” Clara confessed sadly. “Including where he worked. I’m sorry. It was my fault.”

  Tank put an arm around her. “Nothing is your fault,” he said gently. “The man was an animal. The world is better off without him. I’m just sorry about the way it went down.”

  “Me, too,” Clara said. “Shot down like an animal...and just before Christmas.” Her eyes teared up.

  “It will be all right, Mama,” Merissa said, hugging her close. “We all have to face what he did. He was violent and he hurt us. He hurt other people, too. His end was like his life, a mirror of the damage he did.” She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, too. Whatever else he was, he was still my father. But at least we don’t have to live in fear of him anymore.”

  “It’s just, the way he died,” Clara said. She wiped her eyes. “He had a girlfriend, didn’t he? Should we try to find her?”

  Tank and Cody Banks exchanged meaningful looks. There might be clues to the man’s identity in Bill Blake’s circle of friends in California. “That’s not a bad idea,” Tank said.

  Cody nodded.

  “I have a friend who lives in San Diego,” Rourke said. “I’ll get him on it. If you have a contact there in the sheriff’s department,” he told Cody, “that would help. His friends and acquaintances might be able to point us to clues about the rogue agent’s identity.”

  “I agree,” Cody said. “Good thinking. I’ll get on it.”

  A van pulled up in the driveway and a man in jeans and a sweatshirt got out, along with a younger man who stayed in the van. The coroner was tall, with thinning hair and a sad face.

  “The coroner,” Cody introduced. “Mack Hollis.”

  “Hello,” he greeted them. “I understand there was a death?”

  Cody nodded. “My man is standing over the body. I’ll show you where it is.”

  The two men went around the house. The man in the van climbed out and followed closely behind.

  Clara’s face was very pale. “I don’t want to be out here when they bring him around...”

  “He’ll be in a body bag,” Tank said gently. “You won’t have to see him. But we can go inside if you’d rather.”

  “I’d rather,” Clara said gently.

  Carson followed Tank and the two women into the house. The women looked at him with curiosity and a little uneasiness.

  “I’ll be a model houseguest,” Carson told them politely. “I’ll be outside most of the time, observing, setting up a perimeter. I’ll only need a room to sleep in at night.”

  Merissa was nervous. It showed.

  Carson actually smiled. “I haven’t ever hurt a woman.”

  Merissa relaxed a little and managed a smile in return. “Okay.”

  “You can have the guest bedroom,” Clara said gently. “It’s sort of cluttered...”

  “Leave it that way. I don’t mind clutter. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get to work.” He nodded to Tank and Rourke and went back outside.

  “Well,” Rourke told Tank, who was irritated, “he’s got a point. You’re the danger magnet right now. If you stay here, you put them in even more danger.”

  “I know that,” Tank gritted. “That doesn’t mean I like it.”

  Merissa went right up to him. “We’d feel safer with a man here, especially after what just happened,” she said. “It’s okay.”

  He relaxed. He smoothed his big hand over her hair. “I worry.”

  She smiled. Her eyes were soft with affection. “I like that.”

  He chuckled.

  * * *

  CODY CAME BACK into the cabin a few minutes later. The women had made coffee, and Rourke and Tank were sharing a pot with them.

  “Coffee?” Merissa asked the sheriff.

  “Sorry, no time,” he replied. “We’ve got him loaded up and
our investigator is out there doing the walkaround with a crime scene technician. It will take a little time to complete, but they won’t bother you,” he told the women. “The investigator will need to speak with you. And I’ll need a report. If I give you the forms, can you fill them out and have them dropped by my office?”

  “Certainly,” Clara said for both of them. She teared up again. “He was a bad man. But when we first married, he was so gentle and kind...” She shook her head. “I never understood what changed him.”

  “Life happens,” Cody said quietly. “I am sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you,” Merissa said.

  Cody looked at Tank. “What time is supper?”

  Tank chuckled. “Six sharp. You don’t have to dress. We’re informal.”

  Cody grinned. “Okay. See you then.”

  Tank and Rourke stayed until the investigator was finished and the women had given their information to him. The crime scene technicians packed up and left with him, with trace evidence, photographic evidence and measurements intact.

  “I’ll get home,” Tank said. “I hate to leave you, both of you, here.” He sighed. “But Carson’s right. I don’t want to make you a target. It’s me he’s after.”

  Merissa hugged him. “Thanks for caring.”

  “Silly woman,” he teased. He bent and kissed her gently, in front of them all. “I have to take care of my girl.”

  She beamed. “Don’t go out alone.”

  He grinned. “Never.” He glanced at Rourke. “He wouldn’t let me.”

  “Dead right,” Rourke replied. “And don’t be afraid of Carson,” he added gently. “He’s not what he seems. He’s a good man. He’ll take care of you.”

  “He’s very...” Clara searched for words.

  “Yes.” Rourke laughed. “He’s very everything. But he’ll never let you down.”

  “Okay,” Merissa said.

  “I’ll call you later,” Tank told Merissa. He kissed her again and he and Rourke left the cabin.

  On the way home, he stopped by a local jewelry store. Christmas was almost on them, and he meant to get her something very special indeed. She liked rubies. He smiled as he picked out a set of rings.

  CHAPTER NINE

  MERISSA FOUND CARSON hard going as a houseguest. He never said a word. He nodded as he passed them when he got up in the morning, but he was constantly out and about on the property. He checked out all the rooms. There was an attic, too, but Merissa assured him that it was only a crawlspace and a ladder would be required to access it. They didn’t even have a ladder.

  The second day he was there, Merissa got up the nerve to ask him if he wanted coffee when he started out the door.

  He paused, glanced at her wary expression and retraced his steps. He was much taller than she was, about Dalton’s height. But he was much more somber and uptight.

  “It’s okay if you don’t,” she said quickly. “I just wanted to offer. I mean, you don’t eat meals with us or... We wouldn’t mind, you know, there’s always extra food...”

  He liked her shyness. It was unusual. Well, Cash Grier’s vicious little secretary was shy when she wasn’t verbally assaulting him. He hated the memory of her. He hated having hurt her...

  Merissa swallowed, because he looked suddenly angry. She had a terror of angry men, learned at a very early age from her father.

  Carson saw it and forcibly relaxed his expression. “I appreciate the offer of food, but I have meals at the Kirk ranch, so that I can keep Dalton up-to-date.” He smiled. “He really has a case on you.”

  She smiled back, and her whole face lit up. “I sort of have a case on him, too,” she confessed. “He’s...very special.”

  “He feels the same about you.” He hesitated. “I would like coffee.”

  She beamed. “I just made a fresh pot. It’s rather strong,” she said hesitantly.

  “I like coffee that needs to be cut with a knife,” he told her.

  She was amazed at the difference it made when he smiled. He was an odd sort of man, reclusive and introverted. But she sensed tragedy about him. Great tragedy.

  Her eyes became that odd opaque shade that indicated she was seeing things far away and back in time. She poured his coffee and put it in front of him. She sat down with her own. Her expression was troubled.

  He was quick. He knew about her special gifts. “You know things about me,” he said quietly.

  “Yes,” she confessed.

  “And not gleaned from any conventional source.”

  “That’s also true.” She looked at him with true compassion. “I’m so sorry, for what happened to you.”

  His face hardened for a moment and then suddenly relaxed. He stared into the black coffee. “I’ve never spoken of it,” he replied quietly. “My parents are both dead, and I had no siblings. I have a cousin or two spread around in the Lakota and Northern Cheyenne reservations. Nobody close. Not anymore.”

  “Losing the child was the worst of it,” she said in a soft monotone, her eyes far away. “She lied to you.” Her face tautened. “But it wasn’t your fault,” she said suddenly, staring right into his shocked eyes. “He was drinking...”

  He drew in a sharp breath.

  “You didn’t know,” she said, nodding. “You should check the police report. It was why he wrecked the car. He didn’t mean to kill her, or himself.”

  “I chased them,” he gritted.

  “Of course you did. You were young and in love, and she’d hurt you. It’s not a good thing, but it’s a human thing. It was a mistake. But you’re still punishing yourself for it. What sort of life is that?” she asked gently.

  He bit his lower lip, almost hard enough to draw blood.

  “I know. You don’t speak of such matters to anyone. But I’m...not like other people,” she faltered. She swallowed. “I know things. I see things. I’m outside, looking in. I don’t belong to this world, except in a disassociated fashion. I’m an outcast. Like you,” she added with a sad smile.

  He looked at her with his true face, the one he never let show. It was vulnerable and still and sad. “Her cousin told me the child was mine. She was seven months pregnant, but she didn’t want me. She wanted him. He beat her, abused her...treated her like dirt. It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t leave him. I couldn’t make her see sense. He came to her house and saw me, and ordered her into the car. He jerked her in, with no consideration for her condition, and sped off. I thought...he was going to hurt her. She had my child inside her. I chased them, trying to save her.” His eyes closed. “He hit the side of the bridge. It was made of wood and the car went through it. They dropped into the river, far below. They found the bodies downstream the next day.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she told him, and meant it. “It destroyed your life.”

  “Yes,” he said tautly. “I decided that variety was better than commitment.” He looked world-weary. “But it’s not. At the end of the day, I’m still alone.”

  “We’re all alone, inside ourselves,” she said, her voice quiet and soft. “I’ve lived that way, too. Well, not with the variety thing.” She laughed. “My mother and I are people of faith. We don’t walk in step with the modern world.”

  He cocked his head and studied her. Innocence. It was as clear as day. It reminded him of Carlie’s face, as guileless as a child’s. He remembered what he’d said to Carlie and it shamed him all over again.

  Merissa frowned. “There was an attack,” she said in a monotone. “With a knife. She tried to save him...”

  “She? Who?”

  “She works for a man in a uniform,” she said. She blinked. “I’m sorry, I can’t see any more than that. But there are secrets, deadly secrets. She doesn’t even know some of them. Her father...” She cleared her throat. “It went away.”

  He knew who she was seeing. Carlie. He remembered the odd fit of her T-shirt at the shoulder and her fear of his knife. He remembered what she’d told them about her father being attacked with a knife. Maybe she�
�d gotten in front of him, been cut. And he’d said he liked his women prettier and more physically perfect! He almost groaned.

  “You have...a remarkable gift,” he managed after a minute.

  “A gift and a curse,” she replied. “I hate most of the things I see. It’s what saved Dalton, though,” she told him. “I told him that he was under threat because of something he didn’t remember. He had no idea.”

  He nodded. “His assailant would probably have killed him if you hadn’t given him the warning.” He hesitated. “What do you see, in my future, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  She studied him for a long time. Her eyes took on the opaque look once more. “Your past will mar your future,” she said quietly. “It makes a wall, between you and something you want. Something you’re afraid to want.”

  He frowned. “Do you know what it is, exactly?”

  She drew in a breath. “Sorry. It doesn’t work that way. It’s like I can see the pattern of things, but not the substance. Sort of like seeing the skeleton, with no flesh on it.”

  He smiled. “Well, I guess I’d better lie about my past when whatever it is presents itself,” he said with a twist of his lips.

  “Lying is never a good idea,” she pointed out. “Even when it’s painful, the truth is the best path.”

  “Perhaps,” he said. He finished his coffee and got to his feet. “Thank you,” he said solemnly.

  “For what?” she asked.

  He smiled. “For being a good listener.”

  She smiled back. “I might add that I never speak of personal matters to people who aren’t involved with them. I won’t tell anyone what I know about you.” She pursed her lips. “Not even the crocodile thing, overseas.”

  “That wasn’t really me. It was Rourke. I just assisted.”

  “Why did Rourke feed a man to a crocodile?” she asked curiously.

  His face went taut. “The man in question tortured a young woman—a personal friend of Rourke’s who’s a photojournalist. He used a knife on her. She’ll carry the scars forever, unless she decides to have plastic surgery. Right now, she won’t talk about it. She calls them badges of courage.”

  “What a brave young woman,” Merissa said.