Cowboy Edition EBook

by Maree, Kay

  “Sorry,” I mumble around my mouthful.

  “Don’t be.” She winks.

  Relaxing, I dig back in, watching Nash pace the space.

  “God, give me strength,” he grumbles around the rim of the cup, rolling his eyes.

  I try to fight off a giggle, but it’s no use. These two together are a riot. I must admit, not as funny as Nash and his dad, but they still give me a good laugh. Nash shoots me a smile, winking, making heat creep up my neck.

  He really is a good-looking man. Although not as hot as Jebson, I’m sure he made many women chase after him before he met Cora.

  “What’s going on?” June asks.

  “My wife,” he growls, but I can tell it’s forced.

  “I caught her this morning, doing the damn washing.”

  “I was going to do that this morning,” June says.

  “I know, and I told her that, but the damn woman says she’s feeling fine and can do it.” He shakes his head. “The doctor told us it could take up to six weeks to recover after the girls, but do you think that damn woman listens? She thinks she knows better. I swear I’ll be grey by my next birthday.” Taking his hat off, he runs a rough hand through his dark hair.

  “I’ll head over in a minute and make sure she’s resting.” June nods.

  “Thanks, mum. Tell her I’ll tan her hide if I catch her doing anything else,” he grumbles, picking his coffee back up and making his way back down the hallway.

  “If I don’t first,” she shouts back, making him laugh.

  “He hits her?” I choke out, my lungs seizing in my chest at the thought.

  “Oh no child, never. Cora is his everything, he’d never hurt her. I think he’d die if anything ever happened to her.” She pauses, as if trying to think of what to say next. “If he's anything like his father, it’s a spanking, as in for pleasure.” I bite my lip, nodding and trying not to laugh at the look on her face, as if she doesn’t know how I will interpret that. I may have been sheltered, but I definitely know what she means. I laugh, I can’t help it, which sets her off.

  After we catch our breath, she pats my hand, smiling.

  “Wanna come with me and see the babies?”

  “Okay.” I smile.

  The girls are absolutely gorgeous and Cora and I have become quite close. While June does odd jobs around their house, I help her with the babies.

  We eat in comfortable silence, as music from the old radio on top of the fridge plays. It’s so comforting, a sob crawls up the back of my throat, but I push it back down with my next mouthful.

  “Is Jebson coming by today?” June asks, pushing to her feet and collecting the empty dishes.

  “I don’t know,” I mumble around the rim of my cup, trying to hide the heat in my cheeks, but this woman has eyes like lasers and never misses a damn thing.

  “He would be lucky to call you his,” she throws over her shoulder, dropping her cup and our plates into the sink.

  “I wouldn’t be that lucky,” I whisper, but she catches it, if the sad smile she gives me is anything to go by.

  “You might be surprised, sweetheart,” she says softly, before walking out of the room.

  Staring out the big window above the sink, I let her words roll through me for a minute.

  What would it be like to be his?

  I am nowhere near ready to be anyone’s.

  I am just starting to find my footing.

  Pushing the thought away, I drain the rest of my cup.

  I’m too broken to be anyone’s.

  Too lost.

  There hasn’t been a day I haven’t seen him, touched him, but surely, I imagine the looks he sends my way. He probably just feels sorry for me, maybe I’m an obligation, a part of the job, because of what I told him in the hospital. My stomach churns and the delicious food I just ate threatens to come back up.

  Taking in small lungfuls of air, I push the queasy feeling away. The coffee, now-bitter across my tongue, knowing when he isn’t with me, he’s with someone a whole lot better and not broken.

  I saw the way Officer Davies looked at him at the hospital. The thought twists my stomach again and my hands curl into tight fists against the wooden tabletop.

  I have no right to be this upset.

  I have never experienced jealousy before, but I’m not so blind not to know that this is what it feels like.

  He ain't mine and I have to keep telling myself that he is just a friend, someone that wants to help me.

  Shaking my head and pushing to my feet, I don’t have time to dwell on the what if’s.

  Jebson is looking for Malcolm, my so-called brother, and I just need to keep getting stronger.

  I already look better than the girl from the hospital. My complexion no longer translucent; I’m still pale; but no longer resemble Casper. My cheeks have filled out and you can no longer see my ribs, so I just have to keep striving for the healthy version I once was and taking every day as it comes.

  Jealousy burns through me; just like the marks that mar my skin,

  it will always be there.

  At heart, I know he is my friend and I need to learn to move on.

  Live to be free and not let the past define who I was always meant to be.

  Is now my new moto…

  1 week later

  “Davis, I need all the files you have on Malcolm Cabot.” Her blonde head snaps up, her brows pinch together, and she nods as I head towards my office.

  “Give me five,” she calls to my back.

  Pushing through the glass door and rounding my wooden desk, I fall into my chair. Pushing the mass of papers across the top, I know I need to sort all this shit out. I hate having a messy desk, but right now I have other things on my mind.

  Snatching up the handset of my phone, I dial the number to connect me to Detective Deacon Black, hoping he may have some answers.

  I have held off calling him, hoping we could find something on this prick, but it’s been just over three weeks and it’s like this fucker has just disappeared into thin air. All we’ve been able to find is the usual basic shit.

  Every petty crime he got charged with was brought before a judge, but he was never convicted for any of it, receiving barely a slap on the wrist and community service. Even that was tame, as with all the charges the hours added up to less than one hundred over a five-year period.

  The coffee from earlier sits like lead in the pit of my stomach, and I know that ain’t fucking good. Someone must have pulled strings for him to walk away without jail time. Rubbing my temple, a dull throb starting up, I am aware I need to find this fucker and now, before he comes after my girl.

  I’ve had officers on her ever since she went to live with the Steels. It’s easy to guard her since she doesn’t leave the farm except to go over to Lucy and Lucas’s place next door, but I know things will change because Lucy has organised a trip into Roma to find dresses for their wedding and she wants all the girls with her. Thankfully, June is going with them, and Lucy’s sister is travelling up from Newcastle for the day as well, but that just means more men, more overtime, if I can’t be there.

  “Fuck,” I mumble, running a rough hand through my hair while waiting for the call to connect.

  “Black,” he answers on the second ring.

  “Detective, it’s Jebson Stone.”

  “I hear congratulations are in order, mate,” he chuckles. “I heard your old man finally retired and handed the reins over to you.”

  “The ink isn’t even dry yet, how the fuck do you know?” I chuckle.

  “Detective, remember” he laughs.

  “So, why do I get the feeling this isn’t a personal call.”

  Right, straight to business. That’s why I like this guy, he doesn’t beat around the bush, and the fact that he is fantastic at his job and has a knack for finding a needle in a haystack.

  He proved that not too long ago when I needed information on Cora’s ex-hu
sband when he took her.

  “I need your help.”

  “What can I help you with?”

  I explain the situation, right down to what this sick fuck did to his sister. My head flashes back to when we found Emily’s little home on the outskirts of Wallumbilla, bile rising in the back of my throat from the stench we walked into - rotten food, blood, mould, and rotting wood - but combined all that was the smell of decomposing flesh. It was enough to turn anybody’s stomach, and we still can’t identify who the half-carved up body belonged to.

  Hell doesn’t even cover what she went through, considering the amount of blood in the falling-down house.

  I'm amazed she managed to survive as long as she did.

  “Fuck,” he grinds out. “Name?” he grunts as the tapping of keys on a keyboard echoes down the line.

  “Malcolm Sean Cabot,” I grind out.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” he blows out a breath.

  “What?” The hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.

  “We’ve been looking for that fucker for the past year.”

  “Are you telling me he’s held my girl captive for a year?”

  “Your girl?”

  I pause, realising I just let that slip out, but ever since I laid eyes on her that’s what she’s been to me, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

  I just need more time to show her that I’m all she’ll ever need.

  The line is silent and I guess he gets the hint as he rattles off information.

  “This fucker is a slippery fucker, Jebson. He’s wanted for questioning for the murder of his adopted parents, the gardener, a Taxi driver, and also rape and murder of a petrol station attendant. And get this, the fucker has money. The Cobats ran the coal mines down here.” He blows out a rough breath and I realise my breathing has kicked up to high gear, along with my heart rate.

  “All accounts were frozen upon the parent’s death, but being this rich, I have no doubt they had accounts that couldn’t be traced. This sick fuck has left a trail of blood along the coast of New South Wales, mate.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Pretty much.”

  Silence hangs in the air as his words roll through me. He's a goddamn mass murderer and he had my girl locked up for a year, torturing her.

  “I need to put a call into Roma Police station and see about any missing persons in the past year. We found a body where he imprisoned my girl and my gut is telling me this fucker hasn’t stopped killing since he left Newcastle.”

  “You might be right. You may have your very own serial killer, mate.” He curses, frustration clear in his tone.

  “Look, mate, let me see if I can find out more and I’ll get everything faxed over to you.”

  “Why didn’t we have access to all this?” I gruff out.

  “The file was classified and only basic information was released. I have a mate heading up the investigation - I’ll get in touch with him and see if I can find out more.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No worries. We will find this fucker. You just look after that girl of yours.”

  “She’s gone through hell already; I have to stop him before he finds her,”

  “You’re the one in charge now; I’m sure you can work it out.”

  “Good point,” I grunt.

  “Alright, mate, let me see what I can find out and I’ll be in touch.”

  With that, we say our goodbyes.

  Leaning back into my chair, I rub my face, releasing a deep exhale. A knock at my door pulls my attention to Officer Sara Davis standing in the doorway with a yellow manilla folder in her hand. Gritting my teeth as I catch her checking me out, I don’t pull her up for it. Time is limited right now and she’s still new around here, but if she extends it into more, I will definitely pull her back in line.

  “Davies,” I bark, breaking through her daydream. I bite off a curse at the dreamy-eyed look she shoots my way, and nod for her to enter.

  “This is all we’ve found,” she says, sliding the folder across my desk.

  “Thanks,” I nod, flipping it open and scanning the information.

  “Did you find something new?” Looking up, I see she’s chewing on the corner of her lip as her big blue eyes stare straight into mine.

  “I just got off the phone to a Detective friend in Newcastle. Looks like this fucker is worse than we originally thought.” I breathe out, tension locking my muscles.

  “You did, how bad?” she squeaks out, her eyes darting around my desk.

  “Let’s just say the body count keeps rising.” I nod slowly, squinting my eyes.

  “That’s good that you contacted him; maybe he’ll have something for us.” She bats those lashes at me, but it does nothing for me. If anything, it just irritates the fuck out of me even more.

  Whenever Emily gets that soft look on her face, without even trying, it knocks the wind from my lungs, leaving my body trembling.

  Just the hint of her sweet, sugary scent of cotton candy messes with me.

  But when Davis flirts with me, it just leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

  “Detective Black is faxing over some information. Let Drixen know so he’s on the lookout.”

  “No worries, Boss.” She nods, winking before she heads for the door.

  Fuck. Looks like I’m going to have to have a talk with her, after all, I think, picking up the phone to call Captain Thompson over in Roma.

  Pulling my truck to a stop in front of Lou’s barn, I jump out, swinging my keys around my finger.

  “Jebson, ‘bout fucking time you got here,” Nash calls out, coming towards me.

  “What happened?” I rush out, my eyes swinging towards the house Emily lives in.

  “Nothing, Brother, she’s fine,” he’s quick to reassure me as Lucas ambles up beside him.

  “Mum said we can’t start the grill without everyone here. Where the fuck have you been?”

  “Yeah, dickhead, I’m starving,” Lucas throws in.

  Ah shit. I’ve been so caught up all day going over everything Deacon sent me and putting it with what we already had, I forgot June offered to hold a cookout tonight to celebrate me moving up the ranks and Dad retiring.

  “Sorry, some information came in on that fucker and I’ve spent my day sifting through it.”

  “If there’s ever a good reason to be late, that is definitely one of them.” Nash nods, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “Will it help?” Lucas asks.

  “I’m hoping so. I called up Detective Black in Newcastle and he’s putting out feelers and digging around for anything we may have missed. So far, let’s just say this fucker is more fucked up than we originally thought.” I breathe in, the aroma of the beginnings of a bonfire crackles through the air washing through my senses.

  “Fuck,” Lucas says roughly.

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “Black is the detective that helped find Cora’s ex, right?”

  “One and the same.” I nod as we head down the side of the house and around the back. I smile, for what feels like the first time today seeing Emily laughing with the girls as she holds one of the twins in her lap.

  A heavy hand hits my back. I look towards Nash, but he's not looking at me. Instead, he’s staring at the girls.

  “She’s a nice girl, Jebson, she just got dealt a shit hand. Emily deserves nothing but good things from here on out.” He squeezes my shoulder before he heads towards his wife. Bending down, he kisses the top of her head, and there’s nothing but love and adoration in her eyes as she stares up at her husband.

  My gut twists, wanting it to be that simple and being able to do that to Emily, but it’s still too soon.

  I see those shadows still lurking in her eyes. I know when she has spent the night tossing and turning from nightmares I could never possibly understand, but I’m willing to spend the time to comfort her through it all. Me staking my claim right now probably wou
ldn’t help the situation.

  “Give it time,” Lucas mumbles and all I can do is grunt in response. I know she needs time, but fuck, it’s killing me being in the same space as her and not being able to show her how I feel.

  “Boss,” Davies calls out, springing up from nowhere and handing me a bottle of beer, tapping her’s against mine, and that’s when I see some of the guys from the station hanging around the fire. Drixen holds up his bottle in a salute. Giving him a chin lift in return, my eyes go back to Sara when she speaks.

  “Congratulations, Sir.” She smiles, taking a pull from her drink, those eyes roaming my face unapologetically.

  “Emily,” Lucy calls out, grabbing my attention.

  I watch as she takes off for the back door, her back straight and head bowed a little, those teeth biting into her quivering lip.

  Fuck.

  “Excuse me,” I rush out, shoving the bottle back into Sara’s hand and taking off towards the back door, not giving Sara a chance to say anything else.

  Pushing through the back door, I hear her little feet running up the stairs right before her door closes shut.

  Taking a few deep breaths, I take the stairs two at a time. Gripping the door handle, my heart squeezing in my chest, I hear soft sniffles on the other side of the door.

  “Little Sunshine,” I murmur, pushing her door open.

  “Hey,” she whispers, turning her face away from me, sitting cross-legged on her bed, her fingers playing with the fabric of the comforter.

  Taking up the space between us and easing my ass down onto the edge of the bed, I rest my hand on her knee, loving the fact she doesn’t freeze under my touch anymore.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, I’m fine.” She smiles up at me, but it’s fake.

  “You’ve been crying,” I state matter-of-factly.

  “No, I just got smoke in my eyes.” She sniffs again.

  I know that’s bullshit. They were nowhere near the fire and the smoke wasn’t blowing in their direction.

  “Sunshine?” I say slowly, squeezing her knee lightly.