by Janet Dailey
But only for a moment. Then Sky was shoving her away from him, holding her at arm’s length. His hooded eyes burned as hot and blue as gas jets.
“Not here.” His voice was a growl. “We’ve got an audience.”
His head jerked in the direction of the yard, where one of the cowhands was strolling toward the bunkhouse. Only the horses, blocking the view, had kept him from getting an eyeful.
“And not now,” he said. “I promised Beau that if you came back to work on the books, I’d keep my distance.”
“You told Beau?” Lauren’s cheeks blazed.
“He guessed after he found your earring behind the computer. It’ll be in the desk drawer when you want it back.” He turned toward the black horse again. “Come on, let’s ride. We’ll take it slow for the horses.”
Sky headed southeast, keeping the late afternoon sun at their backs. They rode single file across the brushy landscape, Sky in front on Storm Cloud, Lauren on Belle a few yards behind him. He’d warned her to keep the mare at a distance so she wouldn’t distract the big black. But he suspected that Lauren’s silence had little to do with the horses. He’d done it again—wounded her womanly pride. If he was getting the silent treatment now, it was no worse than he deserved.
Lord, did she have any idea how hard it had been to push her away? All he’d really wanted to do was drag her into the barn, throw her down in the hay, and thrust his sex deep into that lush, willing body. He knew she’d wanted it, too. That was why she’d shown up smelling like a high-class French cathouse, with her blouse unbuttoned to the point of luscious indecency.
The horse had been nothing more than an excuse. He understood that. But Storm Cloud was a magnificent animal, and his trust issues were real. If anything could be done for him, Sky resolved to do it. He kept his touch light but firm, guiding as much with his knees as with his hands. He could sense the resistance in the big gelding. What was the creature afraid of?
“What do you know about this horse?” he asked Lauren. “Where did he come from?”
“Sorry, can you say that again, louder?” Her voice came from a dozen yards back.
Sky glanced over his shoulder, making sure she could hear. “Bring the mare up even with us. Not too close. Let’s see how he does with the two of you next to him.”
Nudging the mare to a trot, she came up alongside, keeping a safe distance between the two horses. The gelding tensed and snorted but kept to his brisk walking pace. Heat waves shimmered in the distance, blurring the air above the sunbaked land. A lone vulture circled against the blazing turquoise sky.
“Storm Cloud’s behaving just fine for you,” Lauren said.
“But not because he wants to. I can feel the fear in every step he takes. It would help to have some idea of what’s bothering him.”
“It’s not just the perfume,” Lauren said. “He misbehaves with the cowboys, too.”
“What do you know about his history?”
“Not much. The foreman told me he wasn’t raised on the ranch. One of the syndicate men brought him in last year. He’d bought the horse for his wife, but things hadn’t worked out.”
“With the horse or with the wife?”
Lauren’s laugh was deep and real—a sexy laugh, not a ladylike giggle. “I’m not sure. But could that explain why he hates my perfume?”
“Maybe. That, or he just plain doesn’t like the smell. If you’re bound and determined to ride this horse—”
He broke off as a jackrabbit exploded out of the mesquite, almost under the gelding’s hooves. Storm Cloud squealed and reared.
“Easy, boy . . . . That’s it.” Sky soothed the quivering horse, keeping firm control as the rabbit streaked away. “As I was about to say, if you’re determined to ride this horse, I’d like to keep him here for a week or two, keep an eye on him, ride him a little and see how he does. When you’re helping Beau in the office, you can come out afterward, and I’ll work with both of you.”
“Is this a bribe to get me working on Beau’s spreadsheet again?” Mischief danced in her copper-flecked eyes. They’d be tempting fate, and they both knew it. Alone together, there’d be no way they could keep their hands off each other for long.
“Beau really does need your help,” Sky said. “He thinks you’ve stayed away because of me. We had a few words over it today. Sorry, but this drought’s got everybody on edge.”
“My staying away had nothing to do with you. It’s just that I’ve been busy.”
“So you’ll come back?”
“I’ve meant to come back all along.”
“And the horse?”
“I’m with you. He deserves better than to be so miserable. Do whatever you can for him, and I’ll give Beau some free hours in exchange.”
“You don’t have to do that.” But it would please Beau, Sky thought. Given the ranch’s limited cash flow, even that small saving would help.
“Please let me. I took the job for the experience, not for the money. And it’s a great excuse to get away from my father.”
Yes, her father. Sky had actually begun to like the woman before she reminded him whose daughter she was. Garn Prescott was everything that gave politicians a bad name—two-faced, double dealing, and greedy. At least his late father, Bull’s archenemy Ferg Prescott, had been up-front with his meanness. But Ferg’s congressman son hid everything behind a genial mask.
How did Jasper put it? Trust a rattler before you trust a Prescott. Wise words, Sky knew. But kissing Lauren by the corral had lit a bonfire inside him. He wanted her—any time, any place he could get into those damned two-hundred-dollar jeans of hers.
But having her would mean walking a fine line—maybe even a dangerous line.
They were almost there before Sky realized where he was taking her. Without conscious thought, he’d been headed toward the southeast boundary of the ranch—and the hundred acres Bull had left him in his will.
Torn by conflict over his father’s motives, Sky had avoided coming here. But he’d seen and admired the place before without knowing it was to be his. It was a choice piece of land, rolling, wooded in spots, and watered by a deep spring—perfect for horses.
Even now, as they crossed the boundary, something resisted in him. It would serve his pride to sell the land and donate the money to the ranch. He didn’t need it. And he didn’t want a guilt offering from the man who’d left his mother pregnant and alone. If he saw the land, if he rode across it, he might begin to think of it as his—and he wasn’t ready for that.
But something in him had wanted to see the place again; and being here with Lauren made it easier. He wouldn’t tell her about the land, of course. He didn’t plan to tell anybody until he’d made a final decision. For now, at least, her company kept the darkness from his thoughts.
They talked about safe things. She told him about growing up in Maryland and competing in dressage. He explained the fine points of riding a Western cow horse. Heat lay like a blanket on the land. Insects droned in the long grass. The horses had slowed to a plodding pace. Even Storm Cloud was too hot to misbehave.
A bead of sweat trickled like a liquid jewel down her cheek. Sky checked the impulse to reach out and brush it away with his fingertip. With Lauren, one thing was apt to lead to another. Maybe it was time they turned around, before they found themselves in trouble.
“There’s a spring here somewhere,” he said. “We’ll water the horses and then head back. If you want to leave Storm Cloud with me, I’ll stable him and drive you home in the pickup.”
“Fine.” Lifting her hat, she raked her fingers through her coppery hair, holding it off the back of her neck. The motion tugged her thin shirt against her breasts. “I don’t think he’s up to a ride home in this heat. I know I’m not. Tell Beau I’ll be back tomorrow to work on the spreadsheet.”
Sky willed himself to ignore the tightening of his body. “I can hear the spring. It should be just beyond that clump of mesquite.” He swung the gelding toward the sound. The mare foll
owed without any urging.
The spot where the cold spring formed a shallow pool was overgrown with watercress and ringed with moisture-sucking tamarisk bushes, which would need digging out if the water was to be of much use—but what was he thinking? Why make plans for a property he didn’t plan to keep?
The horses lowered their heads to drink. Lauren slid off the mare, flung back her hat, and crouched to splash water on her hot face. Sky eased off Storm Cloud, looped the reins around a branch, and joined her, wetting his face with his hands and slicking back his hair. “Now this is more like it,” he muttered.
Lauren shot him an impish glance. Lifting her hat free, she scooped the crown full of water and dashed it over his head.
“Why, you little—” Grinning, he made a grab for her. She laughed and scooted out of reach.
“I’ll show you a thing or two!” Sky lunged to his feet. In a lightning move, he caught her up in his arms. He’d meant to toss her in the water. But her closeness put entirely different ideas in his head. Her wet shirt clung to her half-exposed breasts. As his body responded, he lowered his head and nuzzled their softness. Lingering traces of her perfume crept into his senses, rousing him to a fevered ache. He cursed silently. The woman was driving him crazy.
She arched against him with a little purring sound. Her hand dropped to brush his swollen sex. “Sure . . .” she whispered.
He’d tucked a condom in his wallet, so the only problem was where. Lifting his gaze, he glanced around for someplace that wasn’t either wet or prickly. Damn it, he’d take her standing up if he had to, but there had to be a less awkward way.
As he turned with her, he felt his boot heel come down on something slick and rigid that gave beneath the pressure of his weight. Sky tensed, his danger instincts quivering.
“What is it?” Lauren had sensed the change in him.
“Something isn’t right.” Sky had an idea what it was, but before he checked it out, he needed to make sure Lauren was safe. “I’m going to put you on the mare,” he said quietly. “Ride out of here the way we came, slow and easy, like nothing’s wrong. If you hear anything—a voice, a gunshot—get away fast. Otherwise just keep going easy till I catch up with you.”
“And if you don’t show?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” He boosted her into the saddle. “If something goes wrong, don’t take any fool chances. Just go. Got it?”
She nodded, her eyes wide and questioning. Sky gave the mare a light slap on the haunch to get her started, then watched until she was clear of the brush and headed back toward the ranch. Only then did he crouch to examine what he’d felt on the ground.
What he found was what he’d expected—a length of three-quarter-inch black PVC pipe, lightly buried under a layer of dirt and leaves. Emerging from under the water in the spring, the pipe ran back through the tamarisk and beyond. Keeping low, Sky followed it through the scrub to a battery-operated siphon pump, duct taped to a half-dozen black hoses, running off in different directions like the legs of a spider.
Too bad he hadn’t brought a gun. Unarmed as he was, it would be risky to go on. In any case, there could be no doubt what he’d find if he followed those black hoses far enough.
Somebody was farming marijuana on his land.
Right now he needed to get back to the horse and make sure Lauren was all right. But he planned to return and investigate when he was better prepared. Something told him he’d stumbled on the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle—a piece that could connect to Jasper’s shooting and to Marie’s appearance in Blanco Springs. But he couldn’t be sure of anything until he had more evidence.
Picking up a broken branch, he began brushing out his tracks as he backed away. At the same time, he scanned the ground. There were no horse signs and no vehicle tracks, which meant that the weed growers were coming and going by some other route. But marijuana plants needed water, especially in this drought. Somebody would need to maintain the pump and make sure the pipe was clear.
The tracks, when he found them, appeared to be several days old. But they were distinct enough for Sky to recognize the same motorcycle boot and the worn, narrow print he’d seen near the spot where Jasper had been shot.
Sky used his cell to snap quick photos of the pump and the tracks. He had just slipped the phone back in his pocket when a faint but unmistakable sound reached his ears. It was the metallic rumble of a big motorcycle—a Harley, he guessed—approaching fast from the direction of Blanco Springs. The rider might have a camp near the marijuana patch. For a fleeting second, Sky was tempted to sneak back for a look at him. But he’d left the horse by the spring, and there was Lauren. If she was headed for the ranch, she’d be in the open, exposed and vulnerable.
The sound of the approaching bike had grown to a roar. Abruptly it stopped, the silence more unnerving than the noise had been. Sky reached the horse and freed the reins. Springing into the saddle, he kneed Storm Cloud to a lope. For once the unruly gelding behaved. Soon they were clear of the brush and headed back toward Rimrock land.
Had the biker heard him ride away, or even seen him? If so, the marijuana growers would be on high alert. Anyone getting too close would run the risk of being shot—like Jasper had been shot. Except that Jasper hadn’t been anywhere near this place. One more missing piece of the puzzle.
Slowing the horse to a walk, he scanned the parched grassland ahead for Lauren. Taking the mare at an easy pace, as he’d told her to, she couldn’t have gotten far. But there was no sign of her.
Sky’s throat jerked tight. How much time had passed since he’d sent her off? Five minutes? Ten at most. Even riding away at a gallop, she’d have left a trail of dust that would linger in the air.
Where was the woman? Had one of the bastards grabbed her? He’d seen no one, heard no one except the biker. But anything could have happened.
So help him, he would kill anybody who’d laid a hand on her.
He was about to go back and look for her when he heard the rapid pounding of hooves coming up behind him. Turning, he saw Lauren on the mare.
He waited for her to catch up. By the time she did, anger had flooded the hollows worry had left.
“I told you to get away,” he snapped. “What the hell were you doing?”
“Hiding in the brush while I waited for you. Did you really think I was going to ride off and leave you when I knew something was wrong?”
“Blast it, Lauren, don’t be stupid! Anything could’ve happened to you back there. And it would’ve been my fault. The next time I tell you to do something, just do it.”
Lauren’s silence told him what she thought of that idea. “What did you find back there?” she asked after a long pause.
“Nothing.” Sky was mad enough to lie to her. “Just a place that looked like some homeless people were camping out. Since they weren’t on ranch property, I decided to leave them alone.”
“I heard the motorcycle. Did you see anybody?”
“No, that was when I decided to leave. You know about Jasper getting shot, don’t you?”
“Everybody does. It was on the news. Do you think the people back there might have done it?”
“Maybe. But since I didn’t have a gun, I decided not to stick around and find out the hard way. I don’t want you going near the place again.”
“Why should I? What reason would I have to come back here?” Lauren’s response made it clear that his orders meant nothing to her. “How is Jasper, by the way?”
“Mending.” Sky was relieved to change the subject. “He should be home in the next couple of days. From what I hear, he’s really put the hospital staff through their paces.”
“He sounds delightful. I’ve never had the chance to meet him, but I’m looking forward to it.”
“Fine, but be warned. Jasper says exactly what he thinks—and he doesn’t think much of your family.”
“Sometimes I don’t think too much of them, either. We’ll get along fine.” Lauren laughed—that low-pitched, s
exy laugh that sent Sky’s thoughts spinning in all the wrong directions. He’d had sex with her on a desk and almost had sex with her on the bare ground. A bed would be a nice change. Maybe he should ask her out on a real date—dinner in Lubbock followed by an adventurous night at a first-class hotel. If she was worried about her father, they could always come home earlier—but Lauren was over twenty-one and accustomed to running her own life. Beau had even mentioned that she’d been engaged once. Why should it matter?
The more he thought about the idea, the more sense it made. He’d bring it up when he drove her home, after he’d put the horses away.
They’d made it back to the corral and were just climbing off their horses when a low-slung red Maserati came speeding up the lane toward the house. As if the driver had spotted them, the car made a sudden swerve toward the corral and braked in a cloud of dust. The man who climbed out appeared to be in his early forties, his health club body dressed in a tailored blue suit with a silk shirt open at the throat. His thick, sandy hair was sculpted into a pompadour that would hold up in a norther. Sky had never set eyes on the man before. But he certainly seemed to know Lauren.
“Here you are!” His grin showed movie-star-perfect veneers. “I hope you don’t mind my coming by. Your father said I might find you here.”
Sky glanced at Lauren, trying to gauge her reaction. She was cool, unreadable.
“Hello, Josh.” She wiped her dusty hands on her even dustier jeans. There was mud on the knees where she’d knelt by the spring to splash her face—and to splash him. “This is Sky Fletcher. He’s been giving me a . . . riding lesson.”
So that’s what she wanted to call it. Fine.
“Sky, this is Mr. Josh Hardesty. I met him at a fund-raiser for my father.”
“Hardesty.” Sky offered a hand.
Hardesty pumped it vigorously, a politician’s handshake. “This girl made quite an impression on me, Fletcher. So much so that I just dropped by the Prescott Ranch to give the congressman a nice little contribution to his campaign—I suppose it would be bad form to say how much.”
