Swelter
Page 16
She threw the dishcloth onto the counter and cut a quick path through the living room to her private bathroom, slamming the door closed and propping her back against it. She opened her jeans in one swift movement and shoved her hand inside, moaning as her fingers found the ache and began a swift massage. Eyes closed again, she could taste August’s tongue in her mouth. In Teal’s mind, August didn’t pull away, didn’t end the kiss. It was her fingers snaking down Teal’s belly, sliding against Teal’s slick, swollen flesh. Then she was pushing Teal’s jeans down and lifting her up onto the kitchen’s counter. She was jerking Teal to the edge of the counter, her grip firm on Teal’s thighs to spread them wide, and then her mouth hot and—
Teal realized the loud thump had been her head slamming back against the door as her vision and her fingers catapulted her to quick orgasm. Chest heaving, she opened her eyes, almost startled by the wanton woman who stared back from the bathroom’s mirror. This was pathetic. She had to stop. Last night after her reading session and again today. August was driving her crazy. She’d never wanted a woman so much. Maybe it was all this fresh air and exercise. She’d never hungered for Lauren like this, not even during their first weeks. Lauren had been heels and business suits, wine and five-course dinners, a master in the power game of lies and strategy and getting what she wanted. August was different. She was golden sun and rich earth, sweat and horses, blood-pumpingly sexy and achingly tentative. God almighty. She should run the other way. Run fast. No. She had to sleep with her. Yes. Sleep with her, by God, to get August out of her system.
Teal made a plan while she washed up. August had a private sign-on, so she couldn’t check to see what she browsed on the Internet, but maybe she could find a few clues about what she liked in her bedroom. She slipped across the hall.
August’s room was neat but not obsessively so. The queen bed was made, but the closet door had been closed to hide the jumble of boots, athletic shoes, and overflowing laundry hamper. Teal stuffed the dirty clothes into the hamper and set it by the door to take to the washroom.
A towel hung a bit haphazardly in the bathroom, but none were on the floor. Teal smiled. The cap was neatly replaced on the toothpaste, which was appropriately squeezed from the bottom. No problem there. She pursed her lips. Also, no hints. Her cosmetics amounted to a preference for standard Ivory soap. No perfumes or bath oils. No tub for that matter. Only a walk-in shower.
The iPad on the bedside table requested a password when she turned it on, so she switched it off again. Darn. She picked up the television remote and hit the power button. Hmm. August had been watching the food network. That was interesting. She’d never shown any interest in cooking. Then she spotted the printer on the small secretary’s desk under the window. A single sheet of printed paper lay next to it. Bingo.
August apparently had printed the recipe for a butter rum cake. In the page’s margin, a note was written in August’s bold cursive:
Angela, a client’s mother in Dallas used to make these cakes for me because it’s my favorite. What would you charge to bake one? Or do you know someone in town who bakes them?—August
The printer was also a copier, so Teal made a quick duplicate. She heard voices in the kitchen and checked her watch. That would be Brick’s wife, Angela, and her cleaning crew. Just the person Teal needed to see.
Chapter Twelve
“So, we ain’t gonna ship these steers out after we wean them? We’re gonna feed them for three years?” Doubt was written all over Manny’s rugged features. At least it wasn’t the same wariness they’d all shown as they watched her set up the video about raising grass-fed beef.
“Yes.” August watched the men exchange incredulous looks. Except Hawk. He sat quietly against the wall, watching her. “We’ll still sell breeding stock every year, so there’ll be some income. I have my own financial resources, so I intend to invest the money Julio left back into the ranch. My plan is to develop a White Paw brand and sell directly to top-level outlets. An old college chum is a big-deal chef in Chicago and has already put me in touch with some contacts there, in New York and Atlanta. There’s plenty of interest.”
Manny, Tommy, Brick, and Pops stared at her, not really comprehending. Hawk, as usual, was hard to read.
“What she’s saying is that we’re going to start raising specialty beef and sell it to some high-priced restaurants that cater to people who’ll pay extra because somebody tells them it’s fancy meat.” BJ wasn’t anxious to change the way they’d been doing things for years, but she’d discussed her ideas with him at length, and he had her back when it came down to doing it. “Nobody here is going to lose their job. There’ll be plenty to do even though we won’t be shipping calves to market every year. We’ll just be doing some different things, or the same things a different way. Could be, we find out we need to hire another man—”
“Or woman,” Teal said.
BJ nodded. “Or woman to handle all the work.”
“I heard people won’t buy grass-fed beef because it costs too much and doesn’t taste as good without enough fat marbling in it,” Brick said.
“It’s true that grass-fed beef sells at a higher price unless you buy in bulk. We’ll start out just shipping to restaurants or a few premium distributors. But we’ll offer bulk sales to individuals through a website, and maybe a few places locally. Eventually, I want to have our own meat-packing plant or contract someone to partner with who’ll do things our way.”
Teal looked up. She’d been busily scribbling in a small notebook. “You could introduce your brand at some community events in Amarillo, Lubbock, and Dallas to start out. Offer to cater an event or give away cooked samples at a community festival. Set up a White Paw booth at the Texas State Fair and sell jerky, or steak on a stick, or kabobs.” She waved her pen, her eyes bright with excitement. “Get your celebrity chef friend to come down and do a cooking demonstration with your beef. The Dallas media would eat that up.” She stood and began waving her arms around. “You could make a video about how the cows are raised and handled in a more humane way, like you using local anesthesia to castrate while other ranchers don’t.”
August grinned at Teal’s excitement, then made a face at her last suggestion. “I don’t think people want to watch a calf get castrated while they’re chewing on White Paw beef.”
The men laughed, and so did Teal.
“I didn’t mean you should show the video at the food booth. Well, you could, but a sanitized version. The long version could go on the website. You could put cooking tips on the website, too.”
“Those are great ideas.” As impressed as she was by Teal’s brainstorming, August couldn’t help but shrink a little from the enormity of it. She wouldn’t exactly be retreating to the quiet life of a small ranch operation. She’d be building what could evolve into a corporation. Did she want to do that? Did she want to shoulder that alone?
Tommy still shook his head. “I don’t know. We spent all morning putting up fence panels for a vaccination chute that has no corners. The old square paddock and chute have been fine all these years. How come you want to change things around?”
Hawk finally spoke, his eyes never leaving August’s. “Because it is the right thing,” he said. “It’s more kind and gentle to the animals who give their lives to nourish us. The rounded paddocks are less stressful and remove the risk of them bunching up in a corner and causing an injury. When you avoid crowding them into muddy feed lots and stuffing them full of additives, hormones, and grain to fatten them quicker, and make changes in how they’re handled on the ranch and at slaughter, the end product is a healthier, leaner meat.”
“Julio would’a done it.”
They all turned to Pops. August thought he’d fallen asleep in his recliner during the video she’d shown them on the big-screen television. Apparently not.
He sat forward, resting his forearms on his knees, and looked around the room at each of them. “Julio had talked about it fifteen years ago, but there weren’t enough
buyers out there.” He jerked his thumb toward August. “And he didn’t have the connections this one does.”
August hadn’t expected an endorsement from Pops. If they hadn’t had an audience, she would have hugged him. She looked at her wranglers. “Julio depended on you guys, and I’m hoping you’ll stick with The White Paw. If you get behind me on this, each of you will receive a bonus of one percent of The White Paw’s profits the first year we sell grass-fed beef. In addition, you’ll each receive two head of mature beef. You can sell them, put them in your freezer, or keep them for breeding stock to start your own herds. If you keep them, I’m willing to negotiate some grazing terms so they can stay on The White Paw until you have your own pasture for them.”
Manny and Tommy sat straighter and exchanged surprised smiles. Hawk gave her an approving nod. “We’re in,” Brick said, answering for all.
August held up her hand, palm out, when they started to rise from their seats. “One more thing I need to discuss with you. But before I do, I need each of you to give your word that what is said here stays on this ranch. You cannot discuss it with anyone.”
They settled back in their seats, checking each other’s reaction.
Brick was the first to speak up. “This secret. It’s not anything illegal that would get us in trouble with the law by knowing and not telling, is it?”
Tommy snorted. “Yeah, Brick. She’s gonna grow a side crop of marijuana in the chicken-manure pile.”
August shook her head and smiled. “No. I would never ask you to do anything illegal.”
“You have my word,” Hawk said.
The rest chimed in one by one, and BJ nodded for her to begin.
“I think most of you are aware that until I got the news that Julio had passed away and left the ranch to me, I was practicing law in Dallas.” August’s gaze rested on Teal. She was ashamed to admit how stupid she’d been. But something in Teal’s eyes told her it would be okay. She was admitting that she’d let Christine dupe her. But telling them was letting them have a stake in her as well as the ranch, or giving them the option to leave for their own safety. She cleared her throat. “What you don’t know is that just before I got the news about the ranch, my law partner was arrested and our offices closed. There’s an ongoing federal investigation into some cases handled by my partner and a junior associate, who is the son of the biggest client our practice handled. Or, I should say, my partner handled. There’ll be a big trial sometime in the next year, and I’ll be called to testify.”
They were quiet for a moment as they digested the information.
“They didn’t charge you with anything? Or did you make a deal so they wouldn’t arrest you, too?” She was glad Brick asked, rather than gossip and conjecture behind her back.
“My paralegal brought the malfeasance to my attention, along with information that my partner and the client were doctoring paperwork to implicate me if I ever found out.”
“So, how did the cops find out?” Tommy asked.
“I gathered evidence from our office files and beat them to the punch. I turned them in.”
“Why do I think this is more than you being worried that we’ll hear about it and think you were involved?” Hawk was always the perceptive one.
She avoided looking at Teal. This part wasn’t in the newspaper article. “The client, the man the feds are still gathering evidence to arrest, is very dangerous.”
“Who is this bad guy, and what’s he into?” Brick had a wife and kids. If any of them left, she would expect it to be him. He had to think of his family’s safety.
“I know he’s laundering money through fake nonprofit organizations with off-shore bank accounts. The feds can’t prove it yet, but they believe it comes from importing and distributing cocaine from South America.” She paused. “His name is Luis Reyes.”
“Sweet Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.” The others watched Manny as he looked skyward, crossed himself, and kissed the Catholic medallion hanging around his neck.
“Witnesses have mysteriously disappeared or suddenly refused to testify in past cases that involved his employees.” She gave them a grim smile. “But when I got the call about Julio, I left Dallas in the middle of the night. Nobody knows I’m here. Not even the feds. They wanted to put me in witness protection until the trial.”
“You’ve been here for weeks. Why are you telling us now?” Hawk asked.
“Because John Stutts called me yesterday to say he can’t delay filing the deed to the ranch any longer. If I was Reyes, I’d have Internet-search alerts set up in case I surfaced. The deed will trigger that and give him a new place to look for me. His men could show up here.” She held up her hands. “If they do, I don’t want anyone to be hurt. I would ask you to stand down and not put yourself in harm’s way for me, but to alert authorities as soon as possible. BJ and the sheriff have the number of the DEA agent who should be contacted.”
The men shifted in their chairs, sharing looks but staying silent. Finally, Brick stood. “Most of us had already been making plans for other employment when old Julio’s health began to fail. We figured this land would be sold off to developers like most of the other ranches.”
August held up her hand. “I understand that you have a family to protect, Brick. There’ll be no hard feelings if you feel you have to leave. Anybody who does leave will get three months of salary to tide you over until you settle in somewhere else. I wish I could do more, but I have to keep the ranch going.”
He glared at her. “I was going to say that we were relieved when you showed up here wanting to ranch rather than sell the place. I think I speak for all of us. We’re not going anywhere. And if you think we intend to stand by and let those drug dealers drag you off, you don’t know nothing about The White Paw. We stick together.”
The men all nodded, an occasional “that’s right” or “you bet” thrown in for good measure.
August shook her head and was about to object when BJ stood.
“Here’s the deal. Until this pig swill is behind bars, I want everybody armed and carrying a two-way.”
She couldn’t let them do this. “BJ—”
It was Pops, though, that settled the issue. He stood, his gnarled hand grasping her forearm to forestall her argument, and met her glare with unfaltering steel. “Would you stand by and let them haul off one of us?”
“Of course not, but—”
“No buts. You’re part of The White Paw family, and we take care of our own. Just say thank you.”
She still wanted to object, but the determination on their faces told her it wouldn’t do any good. She looked at Teal, who offered a small smile and slight nod. Then she took a moment to look into the eyes of each man. “Thank you,” she said.
*
Teal licked a bit of the butter-rum glaze from her finger. Yum. This recipe had turned out even better than it sounded. Angela had suggested a few minor changes and was glad to drive Teal into town for a quick shopping trip to gather the necessary ingredients. She’d baked the cake before lunch and managed to sidetrack August, who’d smelled it cooling when she’d popped in to wash up before heading to the bunkhouse to set things up for the post-lunch meeting.
August’s decision to include the men in her plans for the ranch’s future and to share her personal dilemma seemed to tear down any reservations they had about her as a boss. They were full of questions about the changes she wanted to make, and she showed them another video about Temple Grandin, an autistic woman who had been changing the way meat-packing houses operate so animals were less stressed and slaughtered in a humane way. That was when Teal managed to slip away and finish her dinner preparations and glaze the cake.
“I’m heading out,” BJ said, stopping to peer over Teal’s shoulder. “That sure smells good. Maybe I should take some with me.”
“Maybe you can have some when you come home tonight,” Teal said, slapping at his hand when he tried to drag his finger through the glaze puddled at the base of the Bundt cake.
“You old dog,” Teal chuckled but cut a quarter of the Bundt and transferred it into a plastic container.
“What? Didn’t think this old dog could still hunt?”
She laughed at his implication. “On the contrary. I’m sure none of the widows in town are safe.” She handed over his cake. “Good luck, although I’m sure you don’t need it.”
He laughed, too, and headed for the door with his cake in hand. “Good luck to you tonight, too.” He paused as he settled his hat over his brow. “The skittish ones, you just have to keep after them smooth and steady.”
She watched him leave, staring at the door even after he’d gone. Problem was, she didn’t feel so steady. She had no idea what she was doing. She’d never actually pursued another woman. Not even Lauren.
“Those must be some serious thoughts.” August stood across the kitchen, slouched against the large stainless-steel refrigerator. Her hair was still damp from a shower, slicked back and draped across nearly bare shoulders. The racer-back black ribbed tank clung to her small breasts, her nipples hard peaks in the air-conditioning. She wasn’t wearing a bra. In fact, Teal had noticed that August rarely wore a bra. Faded jeans sagged along her slim hips, and bare feet peeked from under the hem that dragged the floor. God, could she get any sexier?