Cowboy's Rescue (Colton 911 Book 1)

by Marie Ferrarella

  “Must me my fatal charm,” Maggie said sarcastically. She wasn’t happy about Corgan’s attraction to her, but she was determined to use it to her advantage.

  The chief didn’t look overly happy about this revelation, even though he didn’t contest it.

  Resigned, he said, “Fine, then the two of you go back and see him tomorrow morning. It doesn’t matter who gets the truth out of him as long as the truth does come out. But the minute you leave that cold-blooded scumbag, I want you to report everything he told you back to me. Am I making myself clear?” Thompson asked, his steely gaze shifting from Maggie to Jonah and then back again.

  “Crystal,” Maggie answered.

  “Um, chief, there is just one more thing,” Jonah said as Thompson was about to turn his back on them and get to the paperwork he absolutely dreaded.

  Thompson’s eyes rose to pin Jonah down. He leaned in closer. “Yes?”

  “Maggie’s been getting threatening texts on her phone lately,” Jonah told the chief.

  “Is this true?” Thompson asked her.

  She really wished Jonah hadn’t said anything, but she had no choice. She had to answer in the affirmative. “Yes. But there’ve only been two,” she protested as if that made it all right.

  Thompson’s complexion flushed. “Why didn’t you come to me with this, Maggie?”

  She gestured toward his desk as if it was a symbol for the whole town and what he was carrying on his shoulders.

  “Well, it’s not as if you didn’t already have your hands full,” she pointed out.

  The chief didn’t bother dignifying her excuse with a comment. “Do you have any idea who might have sent them?” he asked her.

  Maggie shook her head. “Not a clue.”

  “That’s why we brought this to you,” Jonah explained. He held his hand out for the phone. Maggie reluctantly surrendered it. “We thought maybe your IT person could track the texts back to their source.”

  “He could,” the chief agreed, his mouth set grimly, “except for one small problem.”

  “And that is?” Jonah asked.

  “Jim Ellis, my IT person, was one of Hurricane Brooke’s casualties,” he told them. “The first, actually,” he confessed unhappily.

  Maggie was the first one to react. “I’m so very sorry for your loss, Chief.”

  “Yeah, we all are,” the chief told her. “Jim was one of those eager beavers who came in early, stayed late and never walked away until he had finished his job. He was really good at it, too.”

  “Did Jim have a family?” Maggie asked sympathetically.

  “No, but he was hoping for one,” he told her. “Jim was engaged,” he explained, then added sadly, “I was the one who had to break the news to his fiancée.” He looked at them with a very sober expression on his face. “There are times when I really hate this job.”

  And then he focused not on the news that they had brought him about his sister, but on Maggie’s threatening texts.

  “Let me see your phone,” he said to her.

  Maggie put in her passcode, then pulled up the two texts for the chief to look at.

  “And you got these when?” he asked after reading each one.

  “One came in just after we got back from finding your sister’s body, the other one came today after we got back from seeing Corgan at the prison.”

  “Did you tell anyone about going to see Corgan?” he asked.

  “No one,” Jonah answered for her.

  “Did you notice anyone following you?” he asked them.

  “The aftermath of the hurricane has people milling around all over the place,” Maggie told the chief. “I never took notice of anyone in particular, but that’s not to say that someone wasn’t deliberately following us,” she said.

  “We’re kind of shorthanded right now, otherwise I’d assign someone to protect you around the clock,” the chief said almost apologetically.

  Jonah cleared his throat. “In case you didn’t notice, Chief, I’m here. I can provide Maggie with all the protection and care she might need to keep her safe and sound from this maniac who’s trying to scare her off by texting.”

  The chief looked at him skeptically, but when he spoke, he said, “Well then, I guess there’s nothing to worry about, is there?”

  “Are you being sarcastic?” Jonah asked him good-naturedly.

  “No, but I am reminded of that old saying. You know the one I mean. It’s the one about the best-laid plans of mice and men,” the chief answered.

  “Okay, you are being sarcastic,” Jonah concluded. “Well, don’t be. Search and rescue aren’t the only things I’m trained in,” he assured the chief.

  Maggie raised her hand to draw attention to herself and away from a possible brewing dispute. “I’m right here and although I am touched that you’re both concerned about keeping me safe. I am perfectly capable of doing that myself.”

  “No one’s arguing with that,” Jonah told her, “but there is that other old saying,” he said, taking a page out of the chief’s book, “about two heads being better than one. That goes for protectors, as well,” he told Maggie in no uncertain terms.

  She smiled at him. “Seeing as how it’s me you’re trying to keep safe, I’m not going to argue with that.”

  Jonah looked at her. He knew there was more coming. “But?”

  “No ‘but,’” she said innocently. “However, didn’t you say if we got back early, you wanted to lend a hand in the cleanup efforts?”

  He thought that in light of the text, things had changed. “I did, but—”

  Maggie pretended not to hear his protest. “Well then, let’s go, Colton,” she ordered. “We’re standing around, wasting daylight.”

  He nodded toward the chief, taking his leave. The chief waved them on.

  “You ever give any thought to being a drill sergeant?” Jonah asked her as he held the chief’s office door open for Maggie. “Because you really should. I think you’d be perfect for the job.”

  “Think so?” she asked. When he nodded, she said cheerfully, “Then maybe I will give it some thought.”

  Chapter 16

  Dinner that evening was courtesy of an extremely grateful woman named Molly McClure who wanted to express her thanks to the team that had rescued her ten-year-old son, Nathan, who was buried alive beneath a pile of rubble earlier that week. Because the general store was receiving regular deliveries now, Molly was able to go all out with her preparations. She wouldn’t allow any of the team or the volunteers to leave until they had all had at least two servings of her fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn and something that was supposed to pass for a green salad.

  It was a treat for the team to gather together, talking and sharing stories—doing something other than digging through debris.

  Consequently, by the time Jonah and Maggie walked into his cabin, it was a great deal later than they had anticipated. They were both quite tired.

  Even so, Maggie turned toward Jonah and smiled. “That was rather nice. I guess you’re kind of used to this, aren’t you?”

  Exhausted, Jonah dropped his large frame onto the sofa. “You mean eating?” he asked. “Yeah, I try to do it at least once a day.”

  “No, wise guy,” Maggie laughed at him. “I mean being regaled as a hero.”

  Jonah frowned in response, shaking his head. “I’m not a hero,” he denied with feeling. “None of us are. We’re just doing what we would want someone else to do if they were in the right place at the right time. Help,” he concluded simply, eschewing any sort of fanfare beyond that.

  But Maggie was not about to allow Jonah to brush off everything he’d done for the town and its residents so lightly.

  “Yes, you are,” she insisted. “It takes a certain kind of person to risk their lives to save others like that.”

  “You did it,”
Jonah pointed out. “I saw you,” he reminded her. “You’ve been in the thick of things more than a few times since I got you out of that tree,” he added with a grin.

  Maggie sighed. The tree again. “You’re not going to let me forget that, are you?”

  The expression on his face told her that she was right.

  “It still has some mileage in it,” Jonah said glibly. And then he grew a little more serious as he asked, “It doesn’t really bother you, does it?”

  “No,” she admitted. “Not if it makes you smile like that.” Although she really wished he didn’t find so much amusement in his good deed.

  “Know what else makes me smile?” Jonah asked, moving in closer to her.

  Maggie looked up at him, a totally innocent expression on her face. “What?”

  He didn’t mind playing games when she turned out to be the prize. “You,” he answered softly. The single word all but encompassed her.

  “Oh?” Maggie questioned.

  “Yeah, oh,” Jonah echoed just as he leaned in to kiss her.

  She felt herself melting even seconds before he made contact. He had the ability to really set her on fire with just one kiss.

  “I thought you were tired,” Maggie murmured against his lips.

  His grin, beginning in his eyes, was positively wicked. “I guess I just got my second wind,” Jonah said a beat before he took Maggie in his arms and kissed her again.

  Maggie totally surrendered to the thrilling wave that came rushing over her.

  She had every intention of making the most of this interlude while it lasted. She was more than aware that what was happening between the two of them had a limited life expectancy, because very soon, Jonah would be returning to Austin on a permanent basis. That was where his job was, while her place, she had come to accept, was here.

  With Bell marrying Donovan, there would probably be children on the horizon, and while she was undecided about having children of her own, “Aunt” Maggie was more than willing to pitch in and help her sister when Bell’s children made their appearance.

  With the immediate future, not to mention everything else, so up in the air right now, all she wanted to do was live in the moment.

  And right now, the moment was delicious, she thought, her body heating as Jonah kissed her over and over again while they slowly made their way into the bedroom to make love.

  Everything else was put on hold.

  * * *

  “I can’t believe we’re actually going to go back to that prison to see Elliott for a second time,” Maggie said with a large sigh as she lay beside Jonah the following morning.

  She had woken up before him and had been awake for a few minutes now. But she hadn’t said anything or even attempted to get up until she had felt him stirring next to her.

  Jonah slipped his arm around her now, bringing Maggie closer. “If you’d rather not, I can go alone,” he told her, kissing the side of her head.

  “Thanks, but I started this. I’m not about to bow out just because the man makes my skin crawl.” She shivered just thinking about Corgan. “How could people not have caught onto him right from the beginning? For heaven sakes, the man almost looks the part of a crazy serial killer.”

  The moment the words her out of her mouth, other thoughts occurred to her. She had married into the family not knowing about its dark secret.

  “For that matter, how did my ex’s family manage to keep this all—the dead bodies, Elliott’s conviction—quiet for so long?”

  “You forget, money can buy almost anything, including silence,” Jonah told her. “It also has a long reach,” he added, “which was one of the reasons that I moved to Austin.”

  That caught her attention. Jonah hadn’t really talked about what had made him leave Whisperwood before.

  Maggie drew herself up on her elbow to look at him. “You wanted to get away from your family?” she asked, curious.

  “No, just from their name,” he told her. As he spoke, he played with the ends of her hair, tantalizing them both. “I wanted to be my own man, to know that whatever I accomplished, it wasn’t because of the Colton name, but because of the effort I put into whatever career path I chose to follow.” He smiled then, laughing at his own naïveté. “I never thought that my becoming part of the Cowboy Heroes would wind up bringing me right back to my hometown.”

  “Well, speaking for your hometown,” she said, “I’m very glad that it did.”

  “Just speaking for the town?” he asked, arching a brow as he looked at her.

  “And me,” she added, knowing that was what he was going for. “That goes without saying.”

  The grin instantly reached his eyes. “Oh, say it,” Jonah coaxed.

  She ran the back of her hand along his cheek. “Okay. I’m very glad that you came back just in time,” she told him.

  “Otherwise,” he said, enjoying himself, “you might still be up that tree.”

  “Don’t push it, Colton,” she warned. But there was a smile in her voice as she said it.

  “Oh, but I like pushing you,” he told her, stealing a quick kiss that threatened to blossom into something far more consuming.

  But before she got too carried away—Jonah was quickly becoming her weakness—Maggie placed her hands against his chest to keep him from kissing her again. “We’re going to wind up being late,” she predicted.

  “Corgan’s not going anywhere. And we’re not on the clock,” he reminded her. “I think, all things considered, that he can wait an extra half hour or so for us, don’t you think?”

  Maggie gave up fighting Jonah as well as her own desires. “You’re right,” she agreed, happily surrendering to him—and herself.

  * * *

  Instead of the predicted half hour, it was closer to two hours later when they finally drove up to Randolph State Prison. Unlike the day before, this time the visitors’ parking lot was fairly empty.

  “See, I told you there was no reason to hurry,” Jonah said to her. “Maybe if Corgan has to wait for a while, he’ll be more inclined to talk so he doesn’t wind up losing our attention.” Jonah pulled up into the first row and parked his truck there. “Looks like we’ll practically have the place to ourselves.”

  She looked around. There were about one quarter of the cars here today than were in the lot yesterday. “I’m not sure if I think that’s a good thing or a scary one,” she confessed.

  “Nothing to be afraid of,” Jonah reminded her. “I’m going to be right here with you.” To illustrate his point, he took her hand.

  Yes, he had a way of making her feel protected, but she couldn’t get used to this, Maggie told herself. She was a realist. The town was already getting back on its feet, although it was rather wobbly. But the fact was that Whisperwood was starting to look better. Sure, there was still lots of work left to do, but reconstruction really wasn’t part of Jonah’s job. That meant that Jonah wasn’t going to be around that much longer.

  The thought left her cold.

  As if to underscore that very point, Jonah let go of her hand. Without thinking, Maggie reached for it. He glanced in her direction and smiled. His fingers curled around hers.

  Why did she find that so comforting? she asked herself. She’d always been able to stand on her own before, even when she was married to James. She could certainly do that again.

  She just couldn’t allow herself to grow dependent on Jonah, she thought fiercely.

  But she continued to let him hold her hand as they made their way through the various gates and doors until they were finally in front of the prison guard who took their phones and their wallets from them, securing the items until they were ready to leave again.

  “It’s for your own safety,” the guard recited mechanically. “You’ll get your things back when you leave Randolph.”

  “That can’t be soon enough for
me,” Maggie said to Jonah.

  As before, a guard brought them to the large communal room. Jonah told a second guard the name of the prisoner they had come to see.

  The second guard, a different man from the day before, frowned at them as if the request was personally putting him out.

  “Take a seat,” he all but snarled. “We’ll bring the prisoner down to you.”

  As the guard left, Maggie looked around the communal room. There were only two other people there and they were already seated, each talking to the prisoner that they had come to visit.

  “Looks like we have our pick of tables, too,” she commented.

  Jonah chose a table that was located in the very center of the room. It was visible from all angles.

  “I guess this is a really slow day at Randolph,” he said.

  He waited for Maggie to sit down, then took the seat beside her.

  Several minutes passed. Jonah looked at his watch. “I don’t remember it taking them this long to bring Corgan down the last time.”

  “Maybe Elliott’s stalling because he wants to make a grand entrance,” Maggie guessed. “He’s probably drawing this out for as long as he can because he knows that once he tells us who he thinks is responsible for Emmeline’s murder, that’s it. There’s no more reason for us to come back again to talk to him. We’ll have the information we need and we’ll go from there—and he knows that.”

  Jonah looked at his watch again. “You’re probably right,” he replied, trying to contain his impatience.

  But after another fifteen minutes had passed and Corgan still hadn’t made an appearance, Jonah was on his feet, ready to find someone in authority to tell them what was going on.

  “Something’s wrong,” he told Maggie. “Even if he was deliberately dragging his feet, Corgan should have been down here by now. Or at least the guard should have come back to tell us why Corgan was taking so long. Maybe Corgan isn’t going to meet with you.”

  “Speak of the devil,” Maggie said, tapping Jonah’s shoulder. She pointed to the doorway. The guard who had gone to get the prisoner had returned.