Front Range Cowboys (5 Book Box Set)

by Evie Nichole

Met read her text and cursed out loud. CRAZY EX LEFT ME A PACKAGE. POLICE TOOK IT AWAY. BE CAREFUL.

  Apparently, Justin the loser had made a few stops before coming by Met’s place. That meant the guy really got around. Didn’t he have anything better to do? That was always the thing with criminals and crazy people. They seemed to have no lives other than their pointed harassment of perfectly normal individuals with better things to do than pander to weirdos.

  Met ran upstairs to get dressed. He left a trail of wet spots and soaking wet underpants all over Laredo’s bedroom as he found clean clothes and pulled them on. Of course, he’d left his boots on the deck, which meant he had to run back downstairs and find them. His hair was sticking up at all angles, and he felt like he was running laps on a body not quite fit for service. But that didn’t matter.

  Then he yanked the front door open and stopped short. Sitting in the center of Laredo’s oversized front porch with its Adirondack chairs and coordinating outdoor cushions and fake topiaries was a very plain cardboard box. It was square in shape and had absolutely no identifying marks on it.

  Met exhaled a sigh and pulled his phone from his jeans pocket. He typed a quick text to Daphne letting her know that he had received a box too. Then he reluctantly called the police. If there was any sort of chance that the incidents this evening could help a case against Justin on behalf of Daphne, then Met just wanted to do it right.

  “911 what’s your emergency?”

  Were all 911 operators nasally? It seemed like a recording or something. Met went through the usual rigmarole about where he was and what he was doing. Then finally the operator dispatched someone to his address.

  “Yeah, I’ll stay right here,” Met told the 911 operator. “I’m not going to move. And I’m not going to…”

  “Sir?”

  “There are flames…”

  No sooner had Met spoken than he felt the heat of a bonfire hot on his face. He was flung backwards. He’d thrown a lit match on a barbeque grill full of charcoal and lighter fluid enough times in his life to know when he needed to hit the deck.

  Turning, Met dove back into the house as a ball of flame belched up into the sky. He pulled Laredo’s plush entry rug up over his head as flaming bits of cardboard rained down on him. The scent of burning lighter fluid, gasoline, and something else he could not identify filled the air.

  Spinning himself sideways on the floor, Met groped with his foot for the front door. He needed to close it. He needed to put a wall of solid metal between himself and that ball of flames. Finally, he felt the door. Kicking it closed, he heard a satisfying slam as it hit home and the front of the house shuddered with the force.

  Sirens blared outside. He could hear them coming and knew at least that someone would be able to put out the flames before the front of the house was damaged beyond repair. Met rolled out of the carpet and glanced down. The plush nap was spotted with burn marks where the flames had burned holes in it. He had a few of those on his arms and chest as well. His T-shirt had more than a few holes in it. Reaching up, he felt his eyebrows and sighed when he realized they’d been singed too.

  “Damn you, Justin,” Met muttered. “I’m going to rip your balls off and feed them to the coyotes out on the ranch. Just you wait.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Daphne did not realize that she was whimpering until one of the nurses in the hospital emergency room patted her arm and told her in a whispered voice that everything was going to be all right.

  All right? How was it going to be all right? Justin Sorenson had sent a flaming ball of gasoline-soaked flames to Met’s house! Met had been flung off his feet and singed with burns that were now being treated in the ER.

  “Are you okay?”

  Daphne spun around to give the nurse a telling off but just barely managed to cut off the rude retort when she realized that it wasn’t a hospital employee asking. It was Met’s adopted sister, Jesse Collins.

  Jesse’s expression was kind but not pushy. “I know it sucks to wait out here while they poke and prod and do God knows what else to your loved one behind closed doors. You’d think that crap would be illegal. In fact, you would think that the hospital would want witnesses present so nobody could claim mistreatment later on. Right?”

  “Right.” Daphne could not help it. She laughed. The giggle sounded faintly crazy, and she had to slap her hands over her mouth to keep any more from spilling out, but she felt so incredibly overwrought right now she could not help it. “I like you,” Daphne told Jesse suddenly. “I realize that sounds crazy, but I wanted you to know. You’re funny and smart, and I think you’re really cool. In fact, I sort of envy you.”

  “You envy me?” Jesse put her hand on her chest and drew back in obvious surprise. “Why? I’m a mess. My ranch is currently struggling under an injunction that is trying to claim that I’m the worst sort of thief. I have no idea what’s going to happen from week to week with all of this, and my brothers and I are trying to figure out how to keep the Flying W from trouncing us all into the dirt while dodging a bunch of wackos that seem intent on killing us in the bargain.”

  “Okay, so, when you put it like that,” Daphne said, letting her statement hang. “But eventually that other crap will work itself out. You guys aren’t lying thieves. You’re good people. Denver knows that. They’re just too busy listening to Paul Weatherby spin his tall tales.”

  “How do you combat a guy like that though?” Jesse murmured. “It’s like he’s managed to make himself infallible just because he’s a cop.”

  Daphne thought about Officer Keene and his reaction earlier. She thought about all of the ways in which they could possibly discredit Paul Weatherby. She was in the business of public relations. Surely where there was a will and some damaging information, there was a way?

  “I think I might be able to come up with something for that,” Daphne murmured thoughtfully. “Laredo has never really asked me to do the reverse PR campaign before, but I’ve done them before, and I think I might be able to do it again.”

  “So, basically a smear campaign?” Jesse mused. “Nice.” Then she glanced down the hall toward Met’s exam room. “Oh, hey, they’re waving us in!”

  Daphne nearly tripped all over her own two feet trying to get down the hallway to Met’s room. Then, by the time she and Jesse arrived, Daphne had a sudden attack of shyness. She drew back and pressed herself against the opaque glass.

  “What’s wrong?” Jesse frowned and pointed to the room. “Don’t you want to go see him?”

  “What if he doesn’t want to see me?” Daphne whispered. Her heart was in her throat. “It’s my fault this happened. If it wasn’t for my crazy ex stalker, he would have never gotten a box on his doorstep.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Jesse grabbed onto Daphne’s arm and dragged her through the doorway and past the thin curtain hanging between the hall and the exam space. “He wants to see you. Met!” she called out. “Don’t you want to see Daphne?”

  Now Daphne felt ridiculous. She peeked into the exam room. Met was there in the bed with his chest exposed. There were little white and silver smears of medication on the smooth tanned surface of his chest. Daphne stepped toward him. He held out his hand. She laced her fingers with his and suddenly felt the hot splash of tears down her cheeks.

  “Now, darlin’, don’t you cry,” Met murmured. He put his arm around her and drew her down for a hug. “I’m just fine. I promise. I’d be up and out of here, but these doctors and nurses keep threatening to tie me to the bed if I try to leave.”

  Daphne sank down onto the edge of the bed. She had never seen his bare chest before. It was rugged and incredibly muscular, but the scars were what drew the eye. He was covered in them. Pale lines crisscrossed his skin. There were thick pads of scar tissue and a surgical scar on his shoulder that beggared her ability to describe its angry appearance.

  “Damn, little brother!” Jesse said with a whistle. “I haven’t seen you with a shirt off since you were a kid. Seems like
those barbed wire scars just got totally covered up, huh?”

  “Pretty much.” Met jerked his chin toward Jesse. “Why are you here?”

  “Laredo is hanging out with your father to keep him busy.”

  “Ah,” Met nodded. “So, you’re here to represent the family, huh?”

  “Something like that.” She shrugged and actually looked embarrassed. The pretty blonde gave Met a shy smile. “As much as I hated you when we were kids, I think I’d like to keep you healthy now. We could use all the help we can get, you know?”

  “I do know.” Met stroked Daphne’s hair. “Sweetie, are you all right after Justin left you that package? Yours didn’t blow up, right?”

  “No. They never did.”

  “Never did,” Jesse grumbled. “What is wrong with the police that they can’t manage to put a stalker in jail?”

  “Unfortunately, it isn’t their fault,” Daphne grumbled. “Justin is always pretty good at not leaving a calling card. He’s even smart enough not to brag about doing it.”

  Jesse frowned. “So, why do it?”

  “He thinks if he scares me enough that I’ll come running back to him because that’s the only place I feel safe.” Daphne realized how ridiculous that probably sounded to normal people not infected by narcissistic logic. “It’s just how he operates. There’s no real practical logic to it. He doesn’t think that way.”

  “He was at the house tonight,” Met informed them. “I was out back in the hot tub.”

  “Woohoo!” Jesse teased. “Enjoying the high life, right?”

  “More like trying to avoid getting drunk,” Met grumbled. “Turns out that was a good idea. A fireball coming at me when I’m sporting ninety plus proof breath is probably not a good thing. I’d have been fanning those flames like a regular old drunk dragon.”

  “So, you got in the hot tub to ease all the achiness?” Daphne felt a jolt of appreciation. She pressed her lips together. She didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but it was a really big deal. “That’s a great idea.”

  “It worked too,” Met admitted. “Until some crazy jackass showed up in the bushes to take photos of me.”

  Jesse made a face. “That’s disgusting. What a pervert.”

  “He’s not actually a pervert,” Daphne said slowly. “Tonight, he left a photo on the bottom of the box. If he was taking pictures of you too, it means he’s shifted his pattern a little.”

  “What photo?” Met asked sharply.

  His tone told her that he feared exactly what she did when it came to the violation of their privacy. “In the parking lot of the diner earlier tonight.”

  Jesse rolled her eyes. “Oh, ick! Were you guys making out? He took a picture of that? What a creep!”

  Just about that time, Cisco came strolling into the room. Daphne had only met the second youngest Hernandez brother once or twice. He was a lawyer, which was probably why he was here. She had spotted him a bit earlier talking to the police out in the hospital emergency room’s lobby.

  “Wow.” Cisco looked at Jesse and Daphne. Then he looked at Met. “How did you rate a couple of good-looking women in your hospital room?”

  “Oh, that’s gross!” Jesse made gagging noises. “You guys are my brothers. You’re not supposed to think of me as good-looking!”

  Cisco made a low noise of amusement. “But you’re not our sister, are you, Jesse?”

  “No. I suppose not, biologically speaking.” Jesse was rubbing the back of her neck as though she were uncomfortable. “I wish someone would remind Cal of that every once in a while.”

  Met stared long and hard at Jesse. Daphne felt like she was missing something significant. Then Met pursed his lips and sighed. “I don’t think Cal is as oblivious to that as you might think, Jesse. Just be patient with the old man.”

  “That’s the problem!” Jesse burst out. “We’re all getting old waiting for him to get a clue!”

  “Whoa there, girl!” Met exchanged a significant look with Jesse. “There’s more going on than you probably realize. It’s not like Dad is exactly supportive of a relationship between you and Cal.”

  “Why not?” Jesse flopped into a chair. She put her leg up on the arm of the thing and began bouncing it up and down. “We’re not siblings. Not biologically, anyway. He’s older. Yeah. But get a grip! It’s not like that makes a difference to anyone but us.”

  Daphne listened to their low chatter and could not help but think about the situation from a very detached and somewhat outside perspective. She wasn’t really affected by it directly. Joe Hernandez had been a pain in her butt pretty much the entire time she had been working at the Abernathy Firm. But it wasn’t the same thing that the family was experiencing with him.

  So, what was he hiding? He had been unfaithful to his wife. That alone could make someone paranoid. Okay, what else? Because there had to be something else. There absolutely had to be.

  “What if your father was sleeping with Jesse’s mother?”

  Daphne realized as soon as the words were out that she should have chosen a much more private place to air that thought. The dead stares of Cisco, Met, and especially Jesse made her feel as though she had just ripped open a very old and very putrid wound.

  “No.” Jesse’s tone was flat, and her voice was final. There was absolutely no way she was going to entertain that notion.

  Honestly, Daphne could see why. If she was in love with Cal and had been for a very long time, then she wouldn’t want to entertain any kind of notion that would end with Cal and Jesse being biologically related. It would destroy her dreams.

  Daphne put her hands up. “I’m sorry, I’m just thinking out loud. You know? I was trying to come up with anything that might make Joe act crazy about—well, multiple things. Right? You’ve got his strange reluctance to accept a relationship between Jesse and Cal. You have his weirdness about what Met saw before he left home. You’ve got his willingness to admit his infidelity and yet his unwillingness to admit that it was habitual. It’s just all a lot of dramatic bullshit. That’s all I was getting at.” Daphne’s brain was spinning. Suddenly, the possibility of Jesse’s mother as the unknown paramour was making more sense. “It’s like he’s been hiding something big for so long that it’s making him slightly insane.”

  Met’s breathing had grown ragged. Beside him, the heart monitor started to speed up. “It isn’t just him. It’s Mom too. She’s reached her breaking point. Why now?”

  “Maybe I should ask her,” Jesse muttered. She stood up and grabbed her hair, tugging at it as though she might rip it out. “I can’t stay here any longer. I can’t deal with this crap. I’m sorry. I need to go.”

  Daphne felt horrible as she watched Jesse leave. The young woman had been so nice to Daphne. She hadn’t meant to return the favor by destroying what little composure or hope that Jesse had managed to carry with her all these years.

  “It’s all right.” Met seemed to guess Daphne’s thoughts. “I think if we would all just be honest with each other, we would realize that there’s a lot we could figure out.”

  Cisco gave a snort and folded his arms over his chest. “Be honest with yourself, Met. Do you really want to know? Really? Because I feel like I don’t. I don’t want to know Dad’s secrets. I know too many already.”

  “I think it’s possible that the woman he was screwing in the barn that night”—Met gestured to his brother—“Remember I told you about that night?”

  “I remember.” Cisco perched on the end of the hospital bed. “I’ve been trying to forget since you told me. What was I? Thirteen?”

  “I’d just turned twelve.” Met seemed to be deep into his memories. Daphne reached out and wound her fingers into his for support. “I don’t remember seeing the woman’s face, but wouldn’t it make sense that the accident took place just a few nights later?”

  “Dad said something odd to my fiancée, Melody,” Cisco suddenly added. “He told her that her grandparents—the Farrells—were somehow involved or had seen the C
ollinses on the night of the accident. I don’t know what all of that means, if you put it together, but this is still a lot of what ifs. You know?”

  “So, hypothetically,” Met muttered. “If Dad was sleeping with Jesse’s mom, does that mean Jesse is our real sister?”

  The thought did not sit well. Daphne could tell that it didn’t. Her whole head was jumbled and confused. She didn’t know what to think about the problems with Justin or the problems with Joe, or Jesse, or what was with all the J named people being such a mess? It was like karma had it in for them or something.

  “Maybe none of this matters.” Met put an arm around Daphne and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Maybe the only thing that matters right now is figuring out why this crazy person wants to blow up my front porch and take creepy photographs of me and my girl in a parking lot.”

  “About that,” Cisco said conversationally. “I don’t think we have enough evidence to actually file a complaint.”

  Daphne’s heart sank.

  But Cisco wasn’t done. “However, I already called the guy I use for private investigation. He does a lot of work for me when I’m trying to unravel a case that seems to be full of liars.”

  “Well, we certainly have plenty of that going on,” Daphne muttered. “If your friend can find some dirt on Justin, I’ll start using him for our accounts too.”

  Cisco chuckled. “Now that is the kind of incentive that works!” Cisco turned to Met. “How did you manage to snag such a smart woman?”

  “I wished on a star.” Met gently lifted her fingers to his lips. “And this is what the angels sent me.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Met unfolded himself from the passenger seat of Daphne’s little compact car and exited the vehicle. Daphne was already walking around the front of the vehicle. She was staring up at the front of Laredo’s house with a look of barely disguised disbelief on her face.

  “You live here?”

  “This is Laredo’s house,” Met said quickly. “Not mine. Not my house. Not my style.”