"You'll wing it. Austin's done a good job with Kelsey. He can give you some pointers." Tyler threw his arms over both brothers' shoulders. "Let's get your bags and head back home. We were up late last night. Tonight's going to be even worse."
After battling the crowd at the baggage claim, Dallas led the way to the truck.
"I wish I could see Jessie now," Cameron said as he tossed his bag in the back of the pickup.
"Have to wait until tomorrow," Tyler said. "It's way too late tonight. You can go first thing in the morning."
Cameron nodded and settled in on the passenger side. "So, bring me up to date on everything."
Tyler had been relegated to the back. He propped his arms on the tops of the front seat and leaned forward. "Dallas has a girl."
"Oh, really?" Cameron glanced at his older brother. "Who's finally caught your interest?"
"Nobody you know." Dallas elbowed Tyler hard on the shoulder, shoving him back against the seat. "Better watch that mouth of yours, Ty. If you don't, I'm going to shut it up for you."
"I'm trembling in my boots, big brother."
Dallas glanced at Cameron. "I was telling Austin the other day that we should have beaten the crap out of him when we had the chance."
Cameron nodded. "Yeah, something needs to be done about him. I bet together we could take him if we put our minds to it."
Tyler snorted. "It would take more than your minds to take me down."
"That's it," said Dallas, slowing the truck.
"Hey, what are you doing?" Tyler asked. "Okay, okay. I give, I give. I won't say another word about Gillian."
"See that you don't." Dallas resumed his speed.
"Gillian, is it?" Cameron said. "Nice name. Nice girl?"
"Hell, now don't you start. There's nothing going on. She works at the drilling site. Nothing's going on."
Tyler leaned forward again. "He spent the night with her last night."
Dallas shoved him back again. "Shut up." He glanced in the rearview mirror. Tyler grinned at him. "I'm warning you!"
"I'll tell you all about it later, Cam," Tyler promised.
Cameron stared at Dallas. "I can hardly wait."
****
The next morning, Dallas pulled his truck into Kincaid's Garage for a fill up. Cutting the engine, he climbed out of the cab and began pumping gas.
He hadn't seen Gillian since Saturday, and his body was edgy from wanting her. He needed to see her again. Touch her. Taste her. Just be with her. He missed her, damn it!
If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was half in love with her. Not good. Not good at all.
The nozzle clicked off and Dallas went inside to pay. He cursed under his breath when he saw Nadine Cooley sitting near the desk, drinking a soda, talking to Sam Garza.
"Hey, Good-looking!" She jumped up from her seat and almost spilled her drink.
Dallas caught her arm so the soda can stayed upright. He quickly released her and turned to Sam, ignoring the way Nadine sidled up against him. "Here you go."
Sam took the bills and walked over to the old-fashioned cash register behind the desk. "I talked to Jessie yesterday," he said over his shoulder. "She and the baby seem to be doing fine. I can't believe you delivered that baby."
Dallas repressed a shudder. It still gave him the heebie-jeebies just thinking about it. "I can't either."
Nadine squeezed his arm. "You're a real live hero, Dallas. But you've always been my hero." She rubbed her body against him.
Dallas stepped away from her, barely able to repress another shudder. "I have to get going."
Sam handed Dallas his change. "You think your sister will be coming anytime soon to see Jessie and the baby?"
Dallas pocketed the coins. He had a sneaking suspicion Garza had a thing for his baby sister. "Don't know for sure. I imagine she'll drive up from A&M as soon she can get away from school."
Sam nodded and avoided eye contact. "You'll probably see Jessie before I do. Tell her not to worry about the garage. I have everything under control."
"Will do." Dallas made for the door, eager to get away. Nadine was one crazy woman. He didn't like how she was always finding excuses to touch him. Talk about the heebie-jeebies.
Nadine tossed her empty soda can in the trash and caught Dallas's elbow, sliding her hand in its crook. "Walk me to my car, will you? I want to tell you something."
Dallas stiffened at the contact. "Sure, Nadine. But make it fast. I'm in a hurry."
"It won't take long, sugar lips." She squeezed his biceps and leaned her head against his shoulder.
Dallas quickly pulled away and opened the door, waiting for her to pass in front of him. The woman was nutty as a fruitcake.
He followed Nadine to her car. "What is it you wanted to tell me?" He glanced at his watch, then at the woman.
She sighed and puffed out her lips in a pout. "I bet you're glad Jessie won't be staying in the ranch house any longer."
Where was the woman going with that? "What do you mean?"
She leaned forward and played with the buttons on his shirt. "I mean, she must have made you uncomfortable, reminding you about the drilling and all. I know how much you hate the drilling on your land."
"I'm not crazy about it, that's for sure." He caught her hands and pushed her away. "I really need to be going."
"Wait!" She blocked his path. "You know I'd do anything in my power to make you happy? You know that, don't you, Dallas?"
He swallowed hard. The woman was downright scary sometimes. "Sure, Nadine. Whatever you say."
She kissed her fingertips, then pressed them against his lips. "You'll be very happy, very soon. I promise." She backed away and opened her car door.
Dallas watched her pull onto the highway, then made his way to his truck. What the hell was that all about? He started the pickup, trying to shake the weird feeling caused by the strange encounter. Stranger than usual, even for Nadine.
****
A week later, Gillian woke from a sound sleep. She lay still, trying to listen for the noise that had jarred her awake. There it was again. A low bawling outside her window. It took a minute to figure out what had made the sound. Tiptoeing to the window, she peeked between the curtains. A small black calf stood beneath the window of the trailer, calling to its mother. What was a cow doing on the drilling site?
Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Gillian looked beyond the small yard surrounding the trailer and gasped. There wasn't just one cow on the drilling site. There was a herd of cattle. What was going on?
The phone rang. Gillian picked up the receiver and dragged on a robe. Harold was on the other end of the line.
"I'm up here on the platform," he said. "We've got trouble."
"I know. How did they get on the site?" Gillian asked.
"What do you mean, 'they'?"
"The cattle. You are talking about the cattle, aren't you?"
"Cattle? What cattle?" he asked. "God almighty, I see them now. There must be two hundred head coming this way. Call McCade up at the ranch house. Those must be his cows. Hold on a minute."
Gillian looked out the window again. Several cows were grazing on the sparse grass near her trailer. Looking closer, she saw the brands on their rumps. A circle within a diamond and the letters, DBR. Diamondback Ranch.
Harold came back on the line. "You still there?"
"Yes, what's going on?"
"One of the men found a pair of wire cutters. Said he found it laying next to a fence post." He paused. "Better call the sheriff."
A sinking sensation formed in the pit of her stomach. "The sheriff? Why?"
"The cutters are from McCade's place."
"Why do you think that?" Gillian didn't believe Dallas was responsible for sabotaging the drilling operation. She hadn't believed it in a long time.
"They're clearly marked. We've got McCade now," Harold said.
"Dallas didn't do this, Harold. I know it wasn't him." But someone had done it, she thought. Who could it be? She
forced herself to focus on the business at hand. "If you weren't calling about the cows, why did you call? What else is wrong?" Gillian watched the herd of cattle make its way toward the equipment. So many large animals could do a lot of damage.
"One of the roughnecks got hurt and had to go to the hospital. Nothing serious. Just wanted you to know," Harold said. "Listen, I've got to get some of the men and make sure those cows stay away from the rig. Be sure to call the sheriff. And McCade."
"It wasn't him," she said again. "I'll call the sheriff anyway." Gillian hung up. She grabbed the phone book and scanned the names and numbers. Someone was determined to stop the drilling. Harold was convinced it was Dallas, yet she knew better. It was time to find out who was behind all of this.
Gillian quickly found the number of the sheriff's office and punched it in. She explained what was going on. The deputy sounded sleepy. Guess they didn't get many calls at four in the morning. She hesitated before making the next call.
The night she had spent with Dallas burned in her memory. The passion they shared scorched her soul. She had fallen in love with him against her better judgement.
It had been more than a week since she had heard from him. Why hadn't he called? Why had he kept away? Did he regret their lovemaking? Had it meant nothing to him?
She wondered what he would think when he found out he was being accused of sabotaging the rig. She would know soon enough. Taking a deep breath, Gillian dialed the ranch.
Dallas answered on the second ring. "Hello?"
Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of the deep sleepy voice. "Hey, it's me," she said. "Something's happened up here on the site. You need to come as soon as you can."
"Are you all right?" Dallas asked. "What happened? Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine," she said, hearing the concern in his voice soothed away some of her fears. Did he care for her even only a little? Her throat ached with longing and hurt. Hearing his strong voice, knowing how he must look in his bed, just waking up--a yearning washed through her body. "Could you meet me at my office? Please?"
"You mean now?" he asked. "What's going on?"
Gillian felt like crying. How could he sound concerned one minute, then irritated and impatient the next? She should never have let their relationship go so far. Dallas didn't want her love. He'd made that clear from the start.
"Some of your cattle are on the site," she said.
"Hell," he muttered. "A fence must be down. I'll be right over." The receiver clicked in her ear.
Gillian quickly dressed. She ran a brush through her tangled hair. Her hand trembled with the motion. Tossing the brush on the counter, she clutched both hands in her lap trying to still the tremors. She had to face Dallas. Pretend that nothing had happened between them, because she was certain he regretted everything. Somehow, some way, she would get through this.
****
In the cramped space of her office, Gillian almost cowered at the sight of the big man towering over her. She took a deep cleansing breath. Dallas had every right to be angry. No one liked to be accused of wrongdoing, especially when they were innocent.
His eyes glittered fiercely down at her. "You thought I was responsible for this fiasco?"
Gillian hesitated. "Dallas, I--"
"Never mind. I have my answer." He turned to the sheriff. "Better arrest me, Roland. Seems like I've been tried and convicted without a judge or jury."
"No, wait!" Gillian grabbed the sleeve of Dallas's shirt. "I know you didn't do it."
Dallas looked down at her. "You never thought it was me?"
Gillian squeezed his forearm, the muscles hard under her fingers. She couldn't lie to him. "In the beginning, I thought you might be responsible. I was new to the job. I didn't know you very well."
Dallas jerked his arm away. He looked at Harold. "You think I'm guilty, too. Don't you?
Harold didn't waver from the penetrating gaze. "Sure looks that way."
"At the jubilee," Dallas continued, "when you were called away to the site. You thought I was responsible for that trouble, too. Didn't you?"
"You're the only one with any kind of motive," Harold said. "You've made no secret about how you feel with us drilling on your land."
"Yes, everyone knows how I feel," Dallas said. "Tell me one thing. How do you think I pulled off all these 'accidents'?"
"You have someone on the inside doing the dirty work," said Harold. "Someone who used to work for the Diamondback Ranch."
Dallas frowned. "Dunbar."
"Exactly," Harold said.
"Let me see those wire cutters," Dallas said to the sheriff.
Roland took them from a large plastic bag and handed them over.
Dallas stared at the cutters and frowned.
"You've been clever covering up your tracks," Harold said, taking the cutters from Dallas. He turned them over and pointed to the identification marks on the handle. "Here's the proof I've been waiting for. Right here. MC. McCade. Can't deny it, can you?"
The sheriff grabbed the cutters. "Those aren't--"
Dallas interrupted him."Looks like you're going to have to book me, Roland."
"I'm not arresting you," the sheriff protested. "You know those marks belong to--"
"Just do it." Dallas held his wrists out. "Might as well make it look good."
He caught Roland's eye. Gillian saw a look pass between the two men. What was going on?
"Hell, Dallas. You know this isn't necessary." The sheriff hesitated before clapping the handcuffs on him.
Harold looked from one man to the other. "McCade, those are your marks, aren't they?"
Gillian could see Harold's uncertainty. He had been so sure Dallas was guilty. The sheriff's reaction, as well as Dallas's, was unexpected. Doubt furrowed Harold's brow. "Look, if there's been some mistake--"
"Don't worry," Dallas said. "I promise justice will be served." He glanced at Gillian before walking toward the door.
She had the distinct impression she was witnessing a play or a farce. Dallas was acting a role, forcing the sheriff to play along. Everything seemed unreal.
"I'm going with you," she said.
Dallas stopped at the door and slowly turned. "I don't think so. You've played your part."
Gillian recoiled from the contempt in the blue eyes. Everything they had shared together disintegrated in an instant. He would never forgive her for doubting him.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. For a second, something flickered in his gaze. It was gone just as fast. Gillian watched him walk out the door and out of her life.
****
Dallas sat in the sheriff's office, sipping a cup of coffee. He tried to ignore the ache in his heart, the sick feeling in his stomach. He couldn't believe Gillian had believed him capable of sabotaging the rig. She might as well have stabbed him in the back. How could she have thought such things, even in the beginning, yet laid with him in bed sharing the most incredible night of his life? He had thought she was different from other women. Now he knew better.
"Need a refill?" Roland reached for the coffee pot.
Dallas held his cup out. "Sure."
Roland sat back down at his desk. "How long are we going to play this little charade out? Those wire-cutters don't belong to you. That MC stands for Malcolm Cooley, not McCade, and you know it. Everything on the Diamondback is marked with your brand."
"You know it and I know it. The people at the rig don't know it. They think I'm responsible. We need something more substantial to prove who really did it. I don't think we'll have long to wait," Dallas said. "You went to the cafe and told Sarah Sue what happened, didn't you?"
"Yeah. She looked at me like I was crazy. I wouldn't be surprised if half the town isn't in here protesting your arrest and offering to post your bail."
"We're just waiting for one certain person to show up," Dallas said. "If my hunch is correct, and the news of my arrest spreads fast, we should be out of here before lunch." He glanced out the window, then sat back. "Make that brea
kfast. The show is about to begin."
Nadine Cooley threw the door wide open, rushed into the sheriff's office and searched the room with a wild look in her eye. "No, no, no!" she said, when she spotted Dallas. "What have you done? This wasn't supposed to happen. Why have you arrested Dallas?" She glared at Roland.
"Someone has been trying to stop the drilling at the rig," said the sheriff. "Dallas is responsible."
"It wasn't Dallas." Nadine stood in the middle of the office, wringing her hands together. "Of course, it wasn't Dallas. He would never do something like that." She ran over to Roland and tugged at his sleeve. "It was me. I wanted to make those people leave the ranch. I wanted Dallas to be happy again. I thought maybe he would love me a little because I helped get rid of them."
The Cowboy's Surrender Page 15
