The Lawman's Noelle (Men of the West Book 31)

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The Lawman's Noelle (Men of the West Book 31) Page 17

by Stella Bagwell


  Shaking her head, she stared hopelessly at the worn linoleum beneath her feet. Her heart ached, and she figured it would go on aching for the rest of her life. “I understand that, Evan,” she mumbled. “I can see you want to make things easier for me—to pamper me. But that isn’t what I want. I gave up that sort of life to come here to Nevada and make something of this ranch and myself. I can’t do that if everything is handed to me. And in the end, I wouldn’t be happy living in that fancy ranch house at the Silver Horn.”

  “Not even with me?” he asked, his voice strained and low.

  Even though a shaft of pain was stabbing her chest, she forced herself to look at him. “Not even with you.”

  “If that’s how you feel, then I sure as hell don’t need to keep hanging around, begging you to become my wife. Because if I ever marry, it’s going to be to a woman who cares more about me than she does about a piece of damned dirt and a measly herd of cattle!”

  Before she could make any sort of reply to that, he grabbed up his hat and jacket and jerked open the door.

  “Merry Christmas, Noelle! You’ve certainly made this one unforgettable!”

  She didn’t try to stop him as he stepped outside and slammed the door behind him. What would be the point? Trying to make things work with Evan would be like trying to make hay in the rain. All she’d wind up with was a moldy mess.

  Her eyes filling with tears, she turned to leave the room and noticed he’d left the ring box on the couch with the lid still open. As she picked it up, the diamond seemed to wink mockingly at her. Noelle couldn’t help remembering all the Christmases in the past when she’d received valuable gems as a gift. She’d spent those holidays alone, too, she thought miserably.

  Snapping the lid shut, she placed the box next to the poinsettia he’d given her two weeks ago. To make her little house look more like Christmas, she thought ruefully. He hadn’t understood then, any more than he did today, that Christmas had nothing to do with decorations and everything to do with the gift of love.

  * * *

  By the time New Year’s Eve rolled around, Noelle had hardened herself to the fact that everything she’d ever hoped to have with Evan was over. Now that her anger at him had cooled, she could view the situation clearly, and it was easy to see that the two of them wanted different things in their lives. Ending their relationship before they got any deeper had been for the best. Still, that didn’t make it any easier to bear the ache of loneliness that never seemed to leave her.

  What are you thinking, Noelle? How could things get any deeper than loving a man with all your heart? You’ve never felt anything like this for any man, including your ex-husband. And chances are you’ll never feel this much for any man again. So what are you going to do? Do as Evan accused you of doing? Throw it all away for a piece of land and a herd of cows?

  Fighting to shove away the mocking voice in her head, she tossed the saddle onto Lonesome’s back and cinched the girth. The fact that the Silver Horn horse was still residing in her barn was a mystery to her, and she’d considered calling the ranch to have someone come to collect the animal. But she’d fallen in love with the paint. Though she knew she’d eventually have to give him up, she didn’t want to think about that day until she was actually faced with it.

  At least she had the dogs. And though they were a joy, each time she watched them at play around the ranch yard, she couldn’t help but remember the night Evan had given them to her. On her birthday, he’d made her feel so loved, so special.

  A brush against her leg had her looking down to see the mother dog, Gracie, standing at her side and looking up at her with eager anticipation.

  “I know you’d like to go, Gracie, but your little ones couldn’t keep up. Their legs aren’t long enough yet. You need to stay here and watch over them until Lonesome and I get back. Now go on. Go find your babies,” she told the dog.

  Thankfully, the shepherd did as she was told. Noelle grabbed the reins and urged the horse from beneath the shed of the barn. “Come on, Lonesome, let’s ride out and see if the cattle are finding any grass. What do you say?”

  The horse gave her shoulder a gentle nudge, and Noelle suddenly found tears in her eyes and a lump in her throat. Turning, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and pressed her cheek against his winter coat.

  “At least you understand me, boy, even if Evan can’t,” she told the horse. Then, with a determined sniff, she climbed into the saddle and reined the horse into the bitter north wind.

  Ten minutes later, she and Lonesome arrived at the spot where she’d fed the cattle yesterday evening. The hay she’d spread for them had all been eaten, but there was no sign of the cows.

  Believing the herd had moved farther north in search of grass, she kicked Lonesome into a long trot and continued to search the jagged horizon for the cattle. But by the time she reached the gulch with no sign of the animals, an uneasy feeling hit her.

  It wasn’t like the cows to be this far away from the ranch yard. Not at this time of the year, when grazing was scarce and they were accustomed to being fed routinely.

  Trying not to panic, Noelle urged Lonesome down the steep bank of the gulch. Once they reached the bottom, she started up the narrow draw, then reined the horse to a stop and stared in shock at the sight in front of her. Hundreds of cattle tracks marred the silt and dirt. Even to her untrained eye, it was easy to determine by the deep tears in the earth that the cattle had been running, not meandering along searching for grass.

  Sick to her stomach, Noelle followed the trail until it reached the end of the draw. There the cattle had been pushed up the bank and onto the plateau where she’d finished repairing the boundary fence not too many days ago.

  Directing Lonesome up the bank, she prayed with all her might that she would find the cattle there on the flat land and that her fear they’d been stolen was wrong. God willing, the cattle had simply run into the gulch in an effort to get away from coyotes or wolves.

  But that hope was squashed flat the moment she and Lonesome topped the steep bank. Part of the fence lay on the ground.

  “Oh, dear God.” Her livelihood, everything she owned had been poured into that herd. Now they were gone, wiped away as though she’d never had them.

  What was she going to do now? Call Evan?

  She’d pretty much told Evan she didn’t need his kind of help. It wouldn’t be right for her to go asking for it now. She’d have to deal with this on her own. The way she’d done everything on her own since she’d decided to change her life and move to Nevada.

  * * *

  Later that day at the sheriff’s office, Evan was doing his best to concentrate on the notes scattered over his desk, but thoughts of Noelle, along with Vincent’s chatter, kept spoiling his effort to focus on the Watson case.

  “You should’ve come over to my house last night to help me celebrate New Year’s Eve,” Vincent said. “There was a dandy NBA game on, and I even had pizza delivered. I ate the whole thing by myself. What did you do, anyway?”

  “I was here. Working.”

  Using a foam cup as a basketball, Vincent tossed it into a high arc, then grinned triumphantly as it dropped neatly into a nearby trash basket.

  “Hell, man, there’s no use in you trying to kill yourself over this case. It’ll get solved. You need to give it time to let the pieces fall into place.”

  “The pieces won’t fall into place on their own. They have to be fitted together by someone,” Evan barked at him. “And today is New Year’s Day. The way I remember our schedule, you didn’t have to show up today. So why are you here?”

  The other man shrugged. “I didn’t have anything better to do. And I figured you needed someone around to cheer you up. Ever since Miss Barnes gave you that big fat no, I’ve been trying to decide if you need a bottle of whiskey or a night on the town.”

&
nbsp; Evan slammed his pencil onto his desk. “Damn it, Vince, I don’t find that funny. I don’t find you funny. Why the hell don’t you just go home and leave me alone?”

  Unaffected by his partner’s outburst, Vincent walked over to Evan’s desk and picked up the Wyatt Earp lunch box sitting next to a banker’s lamp. “You know what? I don’t find you a bit amusing, either. In fact, you’re coming across to me as damned pathetic.”

  Evan started to blast him with another angry retort, then caught himself as he realized he was behaving like a jackass. And it was hardly fair to take his misery out on his partner.

  “Sorry, Vince. I didn’t mean that. I was just sitting here wondering what I’m doing working as a detective. Clearly, I’m in the wrong department.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I’m supposed to be smart enough to evaluate a situation. To read people. But I got it all wrong with Bianca. It took me far too long to figure out what she was all about. And now with Noelle…well, I’ve misjudged everything about her. I’m beginning to doubt my judgment on anything anymore.”

  Vincent shook his head. “You’re being too hard on yourself, Evan. Trying to figure out a woman you love is far different than looking analytically at a crime scene. No matter how hard we try, women will always be a mystery to us men. Just when you think you understand what she wants or needs, you learn you’ve got it all wrong. You’re a damned good detective. You can’t let this break with Noelle shake your confidence.”

  Evan sighed. “I know you’re right. But I feel like a damned fool. I’ll admit I’m not handling this thing with Noelle very well. But I—well, I’ve never felt like this about any woman before. When she turned me down, I—”

  “You were shocked,” the other man finished for him. “You didn’t expect her to hand that ring right back to you, did you?”

  He grimaced. “That ring,” he muttered crossly. “I have no idea what she’s even done with that ring. Probably crushed it with a sledgehammer. She’s not impressed with shiny or showy.”

  “Then why did you try to give her something shiny and showy? Why didn’t you pick out a sweet, simple solitaire? One that didn’t shout, ‘I’m a Calhoun! I can buy you anything you want’?”

  “Do you think that would’ve made a difference?”

  Placing the tin lunch box back on the desk, Vincent regarded him thoughtfully. “It couldn’t have hurt.”

  Shaking his head, Evan leaned back in the office chair and raked both hands through his hair. He’d never felt so tired and defeated in his life. Nor had he ever been so confused or torn. What had started out to be the most beautiful, wonderful Christmas he could imagine had turned into one of the darkest days of his life.

  “Offering her a more modest ring won’t help, Vince. She wants no part of living on the Silver Horn.” Evan sighed. “And I guess, deep down, I knew that she wouldn’t. But damn it, I’m not trying to make her change. I just want to make her life better—easier. Isn’t that what every man wants to do for the woman he loves?”

  “Yeah, I guess it’s our nature to want to provide for our mate. But I think we make the mistake of focusing on the wrong thing. I did. Instead of giving Tanya what would make her happy, I tried to give her what I thought she needed. It’s no wonder she wanted to blot everything out with alcohol.”

  Evan had never heard Vincent talk this way. Oh, he’d talked about his ex being an alcoholic before, but just hearing his partner admit to making mistakes with the woman made Evan feel less alone.

  “Give her what makes her happy,” Evan said. “Yeah. I guess that makes sense. But that means I’d have to quit living with my family and leave the Silver Horn. It means I’d be making my home in that little stucco of hers. It hardly has enough room in it to cuss a cat.”

  Grinning now, Vincent started back to his desk. “Think about it, Evan. Wouldn’t it be better to be in Noelle’s warm, loving arms than on the Horn in a big, lonely bedroom?”

  My home is simple. I’ll admit it’s even a bit shabby. But I’m proud of it, and I’d be proud if you’d make it your home, too. Yet I can see it’s not nearly good enough for you.

  For the past week, Noelle’s words had haunted him. She believed he considered himself too good to live in her house. But that simply wasn’t true. He’d be happy to live with Noelle in a tent, if necessary. But she wasn’t willing to do the same. That was what cut him the deepest. Yet he doubted she would understand his feelings, even if he tried to explain them to her. Maybe he was expecting her to give up too much. Maybe he should’ve made it clear that he would meet her in the middle. That no matter what, they could work it out.

  Evan’s troubled thoughts were interrupted when the phone on his desk rang. The extension button for the dispatcher was blinking. He picked up the receiver and said, “Happy New Year, Mia. What’s up?”

  “Happy New Year to you, too, Evan. And I’m not sure—but I think the call I got a few minutes ago might interest you. It came from a woman out on Black Burro Road. Isn’t that where the homicide victim was found?”

  Scooting to the edge of his seat, Evan gripped the phone. “What woman? What’s happened?”

  “Just a second. Uh…here it is. Her name is Noelle Barnes. She called to report her cattle are missing.”

  A sick sensation hit the pit of his stomach like a shovel full of heavy rocks. Some bastard had taken away Noelle’s whole source of income. Even worse, those cattle were like babies to her. Many of them she had named, and she recognized each one on sight. She must be feeling as if the whole world had been ripped from under her feet.

  “When?” Evan shot the question at the dispatcher.

  “I told you, she called a few minutes ago.”

  “No! I mean when did the cattle go missing?”

  By now Vincent was standing in front of Evan’s desk.

  “She discovered them gone this afternoon. That’s all I know. I assured her someone would be out to investigate. Roberts and Williams are on their way there now.”

  “Okay, Mia. Thanks.”

  Leaping to his feet, he tossed the receiver back on its hook. “Noelle’s cattle have been stolen! I’ve got to do something!”

  Vincent grabbed for his hat and jacket at the same time Evan reached for his.

  “I’ll go with you,” Vincent said. “With a little luck, the trail might still be hot enough that we can get them back for her.”

  “It’s going to take a whole lot more than luck,” Evan said as the two men left the room at a trot.

  Chapter Twelve

  Blinking at the moisture building in her eyes, Noelle plunged her hands into the dishwater. She refused to cry. Tears wouldn’t bring her cattle back. She’d cried a bucket of tears over Evan, and they certainly hadn’t brought him back to her.

  She was scrubbing fiercely at a spot of dried food on the rim of a saucepan when a knock sounded on the doorjamb behind her.

  Whirling around in fright, she stood with her hands dripping and stared at Evan standing just inside the kitchen.

  “I didn’t hear Gracie bark. What are you doing here?” she asked bluntly.

  He stepped forward until he was standing in the middle of the room. As his eyes met hers, Noelle thought her heart would surely split with longing and pain. Had it been only a week since he’d walked out the door? It felt as if months of gray, dreary days had passed since she’d touched him, kissed him, felt his strong arms holding her close.

  “I’m here about the cattle,” he said.

  “I’ve already told the deputies everything I know.”

  “Vincent and I will be the investigators on this case. The deputies were just here to take the initial report of what happened.”

  Turning her back to him, she reached for a dish towel to dry her hands. “Well, send Vincent in, then,” she said stiffly. “I’
d rather talk with him.”

  Crossing the short distance between them, he stood a few inches down the counter from her. “I’m the one in charge of this interview, Noelle. Not you. And not Vince.”

  “Well, bully for you. I’m missing my cattle, and you’re more worried about who’s in charge of the situation.” She glared at him. Mostly because being angry with him was so much easier than dwelling on how much she loved him. “I don’t give a damn if you’re in charge or the governor of this state! All I care about is getting my herd back! Got it?”

  His nostrils flared as he studied her for long, silent moments. “Yeah, I got it. You can play the tough girl all you want with me. But I understand how much you’re hurting over this. I wanted to talk to you tonight because I thought it would make you feel better to learn I’d be working this case. That I’m making a promise to you now to get your cattle back. But I guess that means nothing to you. I mean nothing to you.”

  His last words caused tears to blur her eyes and her throat to tighten to the point that she could scarcely breathe. Desperate to hide her broken emotions, she turned her back to him and swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

  “The more you talk, the worse it gets,” she mumbled. “All that time we spent together—you didn’t hear anything I said, except what you wanted to hear.”

  Suddenly his hands were wrapping around her upper arms, while the front of his body was pressing into her back. “If I’m supposed to understand any of that, I’m sorry. You’re going to have to be plainer with me.”

  Bending her head, she struggled to stop herself from turning and flinging herself against his chest and seeking the comfort of his strong arms.

  “Just because I’m angry with you doesn’t mean I’ve stopped loving you, Evan,” she said hoarsely.

  The room became unbearably quiet for long seconds before his cheek pressed against her hair and his lips hovered close to her ear. “Then why are you putting us through this misery? We could be so happy—”

 

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