Official Duty

by Doreen Roberts

  He’d never expected to see her again. Now he was looking at her just a few feet away from him and he’d never wanted her as badly as he did right now. He took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh.

  She must have sensed him standing there as she turned her face, her cheeks flushed. Her gaze locked with his and he wondered if she knew what she was doing to him. Or if she cared.

  The thought brought him back to reality with a crash. He took two steps toward her then paused as she moved toward him. “Ready to go?”

  She nodded, her glance sliding away from him as if she were afraid to look at him. “How far is the ranch?”

  He followed her out to his Jeep, trying not to notice how her hips swayed as she walked. “About half an hour. Lyla’s looking forward to meeting you. She’s got great plans for supper, so I hope you’re hungry.”

  “I am. I only had half a sandwich for lunch.”

  Something about the way she said it caught his attention. He gave her a sharp look. The years he’d spent enforcing the law had honed his instincts to such a pitch that the slightest tremor in a voice alerted him. Something had upset her since this morning. Something significant.

  He held the door open for her while she eased her hips into his Jeep. Deep in thought, he climbed in next to her and gunned the engine. She’d planned to go back to the house that afternoon. He wondered if she’d seen something that might have a bearing on the murder. If so, he hoped like hell she’d volunteer the information and he wouldn’t have to pry it out of her.

  “What’s the name of your ranch?” she asked, as they headed out of town and onto the dry, dusty rangeland that spread away from the mountains.

  “The Black Diamond.” He pressed his foot to the accelerator to coax more speed out of the reluctant vehicle. “It was just the Diamond Ranch when I bought it. I added the Black. Made it sound more personal.”

  “I like it.” She stared out of the window as if she’d never seen the flat meadows of the high plateau before. “What kind of ranch is it?”

  “Horses. It’s not a big ranch. Just enough to keep me and a couple of hands busy when they don’t need a sheriff in town.”

  “Does that happen very often?”

  “More often than not. Jed and Cory, my deputies, can usually handle anything that crops up. We don’t get too many murders in McKewen County. Not enough people for them to go around killing each other, I reckon. We leave that to the city folk.”

  The minute the words were out of his mouth, he wished them back. He’d made up his mind he wouldn’t keep harping on about the past tonight. There was far too much in the present he wanted to talk about. And the past had too much bitterness tied up in it for them to have anything to say about it.

  He waited for Ginny to come back with a sharp retort but to his surprise she said quietly, “Then you’re extremely lucky.”

  “Yep, I reckon we are at that.” He glanced sideways at her. The window on her side was down a few inches and the wind’s greedy fingers ruffled her hair. He liked it better that way than the smooth, flawless style she’d worn that morning. A woman’s hair should look natural, flowing soft and free. The kind a man loves to run his hands through.

  He forced his mind off the image of her lying next to him on the bed, her hair spread over the pillow while he combed it back from her face with his fingers. “Looks like the wind’s getting up,” he said, in an effort to get his mind back to a less dangerous subject. “Could be a change in the weather.”

  “You think it’s going to rain?” She looked up at the empty sky as if expecting a downpour any minute.

  “Not yet. We’re only halfway through September. We haven’t been getting any rain until late October these past few years.” He frowned into the rearview mirror, his gaze on the mountains behind him. “Last winter we had hardly any rain at all. And it’s been a long, dry summer. Everything is tinder dry. If we start getting some of that dry lightning that’s been lighting up the mountains lately, we could be in for some real trouble.”

  “Like a wildfire?”

  “Yep. You must remember the one we had when you were living at the Corbetts’. For a while there we thought we’d lose the house.”

  She nodded. “I remember. All that smoke got into the house and it smelled terrible for weeks afterward. The worst part was watching all the animals running away from it. I cried myself to sleep thinking about the ones who didn’t get away.”

  “Yeah, I know.” His mind flicked backward in time to a hot summer night after the main danger of the fire had passed. Ginny had been just a kid then, too young for him to have the kind of feelings he’d dealt with later. But that night he’d heard her crying and he’d crept into the room she’d shared with Sally to comfort her.

  Sally was asleep but Ginny had looked at him with such agony on her face he’d felt like crying, too. She’d finally fallen asleep with his arm around her and he’d had to shake it like crazy to get the feeling back in it. He’d never spoken about it afterward to anyone. And neither had she. When he’d mentioned it to Sally years later, she had no memory of it at all. He glanced at Ginny, wondering if she was remembering that night, too.

  She was staring into the side mirror, craning her neck to get a better look.

  He peered into the rearview mirror to see what she was looking at but the road was empty behind him. Yet still she stared at the mirror, as if she were waiting for something to appear, something that she didn’t want to see.

  “Someone following us?” he asked lightly.

  He’d meant it as a joke but she jumped as if she’d been stung by an angry bee. “What? Of course not! I mean…” Her voice trailed off into what sounded awfully like a groan.

  Concerned now, he gave her a hard look. “Isn’t it time you told me what’s eating you?”

  She leaned back in her seat, the closed look he’d dreaded hiding her expression. Her voice sounded normal again when she spoke, though he noticed her hands were clenched in her lap. “I don’t know what you mean. Nothing’s bothering me.”

  “I know all this business with Mabel and Jim is upsetting you. If there’s anything I can do to help…”

  “It’s not that.”

  For a moment he thought she was going to tell him what was on her mind but when he glanced at her again her lips were clamped tight as if she’d let the words slip out and had instantly regretted it.

  He took a wild shot in the dark. “You must be missing your husband a lot.”

  He was watching the road and didn’t see her expression change but he heard the terse note in her voice when she answered him. “You’d think.”

  “But you’re not.”

  It was a statement more than a question and she didn’t deny it. “Brandon and I had…problems. It wasn’t a good marriage.”

  “I’m sorry.” There were a hundred things he wanted to say but he kept quiet, hoping that his silence would encourage her to say more. He was disappointed when she leaned forward in her seat, asking, “Is that your ranch over there?”

  He shook his head. “That’s my neighbor, Jim O’Connor. I’m another mile or two down the highway, and then five miles after the turn.”

  “What made you buy a ranch?”

  He shrugged. “I had to do something with my spare time. I’ve always loved horses, as you well know.” He shot a glance at her. “Do you still ride?”

  She shook her head. “I haven’t been on a horse since I left. There’s not much opportunity for riding horses in the city.”

  “Yeah, I know. It was the thing I missed most when I lived there.”

  He could hear the wariness in her voice when she answered. “You’ve never talked about living in the city. Except to say how bad it was.”

  He’d never told her about his younger days. He’d never talked about it to anyone after he’d been sent to the Corbetts’ house. When Ginny had asked him about his life before he came to Gold Peak, all he’d told her was that he’d run away from home as a kid and had ended up with
the Corbetts. Just like her.

  “I lived for a while in Portland, when I was real young,” he said, wondering why he was telling her now.

  “Were you born there?”

  “Nope.” He wished now he hadn’t mentioned it but since he had, it seemed only right he should tell her all of it. “I was seven years old when my father was transferred to Portland. Until then we’d lived in Prairie Falls.”

  “Is that in Oregon?”

  “Yep. It’s smaller than Gold Peak. At least, it was when I lived there. My best friend’s family had a horse ranch, and I spent all my time there.”

  “You must have missed that.”

  “I did. I was pretty miserable, I guess.”

  He sensed her looking at him, but he kept his gaze on the road ahead. The turn was coming up any minute.

  “I can understand why you were unhappy, but not everyone hates the city the way you do.”

  He hesitated, then said slowly, “Well, that’s not all of it. A couple of years after we moved there, my father left us to go live with a woman he’d met at work.”

  “Oh, I’m…sorry.”

  She’d sounded shocked. Her genuine sympathy encouraged him to finish the story.

  “I guess everything fell apart after that. My brother got into trouble and was sent to a remand home.”

  “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

  Now she sounded a little hurt. He flicked a glance at her.

  “I didn’t like talking about that part of my life. I had better things to talk about back then.”

  She snatched her gaze away from him. “Where is he now?”

  Cully shrugged. “Who knows? We lost touch. I tried to find him when I was elected sheriff, but had no luck. He could be dead for all I know.”

  “What about your mother?”

  He let out his breath on a long sigh. “Well, after my dad left, she got a little wild. Started drinking and partying half the night. She brought her boyfriends home with her and she didn’t want me around to spoil her fun. One morning she got mad at me over something and told me she wished I’d never been born. Said I was an embarrassment to her and I was stopping her from living her life. That night I packed a bag and tried to hitch a ride back to Prairie Falls. I haven’t seen her since.”

  “Oh, Cully.” His pulse leapt at the distress in her voice. “That’s terrible. You must have been heart-broken.”

  He shrugged. “Not really. I was glad to be out of there.”

  “I remember you telling me you ran away from home, and got picked up by a cop.”

  “Yeah. Frank Manelli. Great guy. He knew the Corbetts and got me into their home. He even put in a word for Rich, my brother. Got him into a work program on a farm somewhere. I knew right then that I wanted to be a cop. If it hadn’t been for Frank, I would have ended up like Rich, on the wrong side of the law. I guess I wanted to make that kind of difference in people’s lives, too.”

  She didn’t answer him but just sat there staring through the windshield with a wistful look on her face that made him long to know what she was thinking.

  “Well, here it is,” he announced, as they approached the gates leading up to the ranch. “Welcome to the Black Diamond. Get ready for a rowdy welcome from the dogs. They’re not used to female company.”

  She stole a look at him. “No girlfriends?”

  “Not in a while, anyway. Haven’t had much time lately for socializing. The ranch keeps me pretty busy.” He pulled up in front of the three-story house and shut off the engine. The front door opened almost immediately and a chorus of yelping and barking accompanied the two dogs that rushed down the porch steps and bounded over to the Jeep.

  Cully jumped out and closed the door. “Okay, you two, calm down and show the lady some manners.”

  Ginny had scrambled out the other side and was under attack from Puddles, who seemed intent in leaping right up to her face. Rags had all four paws on the ground but was trying to push his nose into her hand.

  She laughed at them and crouched down to their level, which was pretty gutsy of her, considering the way they were all over her. She didn’t seem to mind that Rags was licking her face, or that Puddles had his paws all over that pretty sweater.

  He liked that, Cully decided, as a warm glow crept into his heart. This was more like the Ginny he remembered. The carefree country girl who didn’t mind getting messy as long as she was having fun.

  She looked up at him at that moment, laughing and trying to say something while Rags slopped kisses all over her face. He felt as if the sun had changed direction and was coming up all over again, lighting up everything it touched.

  “If he’s not going to introduce me, I’ll have to do it myself.” The short wiry woman standing at the bottom of the steps wagged a finger at him. “Shame on you Sheriff Black. You’re forgetting your manners.”

  Ginny straightened at once and held out her hand. “You must be Mrs. Whittaker. Cully told me you are an excellent cook.”

  “Did he now.” The housekeeper’s light brown eyes flicked over at him. “Trust a man to think of his stomach first.” She shook Ginny’s hand. “Call me Lyla. Let’s go inside. I have some cheese puffs and a nice bottle of wine waiting for you. That should hold you both until dinner is served.”

  Cully followed the two women up the steps, grinning at his housekeeper when she sent him a meaningful look registering her approval of Ginny. He felt good. Better than he had in a very long time.

  He would have to be on his guard tonight. Being alone with Ginny could play tricks with his mind. No matter how badly he wanted her, for his own peace of mind he had to keep his distance. He wasn’t about to be caught in that trap again. In a few days she’d be back to her city life and he’d be just a faint memory. He’d do well to remember that tonight.

  GINNY PAUSED in the doorway of the vast living room and looked around in wonder. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting—stark furniture, heavy paneling, gun cabinet, deer heads and stuffed fish on the wall—the sort of thing one expects from a man living alone.

  Never once had she imagined the thick green carpeting, the pale gold couches, or the magnificent landscape above a glistening white marble fireplace.

  “This is beautiful,” she murmured, as she moved closer to examine the painting. “What a lovely room.”

  “Glad you like it.” Cully stood in the doorway and it was hard to imagine him relaxing in this room with its soft hues and silky drapes. “I don’t use it very often. I spend most of my time in the den.”

  “Which is just as well,” Lyla said from behind him. “Can you imagine the dogs all over those couches?” She pushed past Cully and carried the large tray she was holding over to a long, rectangle coffee table. “Here, Ginny. Sit yourself down and have a glass of wine while you wait for the sheriff to get presentable.”

  Cully pulled a face. “Never could get her to call me by my name.” He glanced at his watch. “Give me five minutes, Ginny. And don’t eat all the cheese puffs before I get back.”

  He disappeared and Lyla shook her head. “It’s been so long since he did any entertaining, he’s forgotten how.” She poured a generous amount from the bottle of Pinot Gris into a glass and handed it to Ginny. “Now you just sit there and relax. I have to go feed the dogs, or they’ll be bouncing around in my kitchen looking for food.” She set the wine down next to the two bottles of beer that she’d apparently brought for Cully, then hurried out of the room.

  Left to herself, Ginny took a sip of her wine. This house was such a contrast to the scruffy apartment where Cully used to live. The transformation took her breath away. It wasn’t just the furnishings, though they certainly added charm to the room. It was the feeling of tranquility, a sense of security that she hadn’t felt since she’d left the Corbetts’ house all those years ago.

  It must mean so much to Cully. Her heart had ached for him earlier, when he’d told her about his childhood. She’d had no idea he’d been through so much. No wonder he hated
the city. He probably blamed city life for everything that had gone wrong.

  She was so happy that he’d found contentment here in Gold Peak. Though he must be lonely at times. Not that it seemed to bother him. Some men preferred to live alone. Though she never would have thought Cully was one of them.

  The wine tasted good and she took another sip. This was nice. This was very nice. She reached for a cheese puff and popped it in her mouth. Cully was right. Lyla knew what she was doing.

  She was on her second cheese puff when Cully returned, freshly shaven and wearing a black shirt with his jeans. At the sight of him, her pulse quickened. He’d slicked his dark hair back but already strands of it fell across his forehead. He looked more relaxed, more approachable, more like the Cully she remembered.

  He leaned over the table to refill her glass and she caught a breath of his cologne. The earthy fragrance embodied his rugged nature—forceful, proud and just a little primitive.

  Everything about him was so vital, so masculine. She could envision him on horseback, thundering across the rangelands with his head bent against the wind, his hat sheltering his face, his strong thighs guiding the eager animal beneath him.

  She shivered inside, remembering the touch of his hands on her body, confident yet tender, stirring a fire that had never quite died.

  He looked up at that moment, surprising her. Something sparked between them, an invisible thread of smoldering energy that seemed to bond them together, like a soldering iron melding lead.

  His body stilled and she saw the fire reflected in his eyes, in his soul. She knew he’d felt it, too, and seemed to be waiting for her to make the next move. No, not again.

  She felt her cheeks burn and sat back on the couch, her glass clutched in her hand. Casting about for something to say, anything that would break the awkward silence, she said quickly, “I’d like to see Sally again. Does she work full-time at the Red Steer?”

  A mask seemed to fall over his face and he picked up a bottle of beer. Carrying it with him, he sat down on the couch opposite her. His voice sounded husky when he answered her. “She works most days there. Goes in for the lunch hour, then leaves until around five, and stays until they close. She’ll be happy to see you.”