Cowboy Lies

by Lynde Lakes

  Terrified shrieks and murmurs rippled through the crowd. Molly clung to her now-crying baby and prayed with all her might, promising anything, everything…

  As though her prayers had been answered, Matt finally managed to yank his hand from the snared glove and leaped free. The bull charged toward the exit gate. Amid the crowd’s cheers, bullfighting clowns herded and blocked the bull’s return. Matt bent and grabbed up his flattened hat, then hustled toward the fence with an eye on the stomping fury. He climbed the barricade. At the top, he paused and straddled the rail. Safe.

  Tears of relief rolled down Molly’s cheeks. Damn Matt! Wait ’til she got hold of him. That reckless, heart-stopping cowboy would wish he’d never seen a bull. Or her!

  Looking unruffled, he slapped his hat against his chaps to shake free the dust, then he reshaped his Stetson and plunked it back on his head. The announcer blared Matt’s time—sixteen seconds! “Our two esteemed judges agree—Matt Ryan earned a score of ninety-seven based upon style, body position, and control.” He chuckled. “And his masterful save was a sight to behold.”

  The crowd went wild, cheering and stomping their feet. Matt smiled and touched the brim of his hat. His nod to the people in the stands looked subdued, with just the right amount of humility.

  Tita and Suzy hugged Molly and the baby. “Yee-hah! Way to go, Matt!” Suzy shouted.

  “Hold up folks,” the announcer boomed over the shouts. “Let’s give credit to the other half of the team. Dragon Fire earned his half of the score for flash and difficulty.” His voice took on an added note of respect. “But then how could the son of Bodacious disappoint us?” The crowd roared again, this time for Dragon Fire.

  “Señor Matt sure knows how to take a woman’s breath away,” Tita said, fanning herself with a program.

  “Yeah.” Molly squared her shoulders for battle. “And he’s going to pay for it. Mind taking Sara Jane for a few minutes?”

  Tita laughed and reached for Sara Jane. “Give him your worst, triquitraque.”

  Firecracker, indeed. Molly felt more like a bomb about to explode. She dashed down the grandstand steps and right into Matt’s open arms. He smelled earthy, a mixture of sweat and leather. And very, very male. Looking pleased with himself, he drew her tight against him, pinning her arms. She’d love to knock that smug look clean off his face.

  “Are you all right?” Molly asked, furious but unable to control the tremor in her voice. She wanted to shove him away—wanted to never leave his arms.

  “It’s great to be alive…and in one piece.” He bent to kiss her.

  She turned her head away and tried to wrestle herself from his grip. “You could’ve ended up dust under that bull’s hooves! Damn you, Matt. What were you thinking? Did you really believe you could control a ton of raging bull?”

  He gave her a lopsided grin. “I stayed past the count. In the rodeo game it doesn’t get much better than that.”

  “Yeah, well, congratulations,” she muttered. “It almost went another way. Face it, there are things you can’t control.”

  “Like you, little darlin’?” He looked into her eyes and caressed her back. Warm feelings rippled throughout her.

  “No, damn you,” she said thinking of the scene in the barn that had sent her searching for Matt. Her throat felt dry. “Not like me. Like Ramon.”

  Matt’s hands stilled, and he stiffened. “Ramon? What the hell’s he got to do with anything?”

  “I heard him talking on his cell phone. He’s not the good guy you think he is. I heard him telling someone that no one was ‘wise’ to him. And he said your brother would kill you to get what’s due him.”

  Pain flickered in Matt’s eyes. “You must’ve heard wrong. Ramon’s worked for me for almost a year. Couldn’t ask for a more loyal or hardworking hand.”

  “A year? Maybe he was planted on your ranch by Del Fuego. What logical reason could Ramon have for saying those things, Matt?”

  “I don’t know. But I’ll find out. Hate to fire a man based upon a short, one-sided conversation, but you’ve raised serious questions—”

  “Damned straight. Starting now, I don’t want Ramon within fifty miles of my baby. Send him back to your ranch—or to hell. Just keep him away from us.”

  “I’ll take care of it. I want you safe—and to feel safe. Wanda will have her cell phone with her. Let’s go borrow it. I’ll get the ranch hands to keep an eye out for Ramon, and when he’s found, I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  Molly’s heart softened. “Thanks,” she said, but meant so much more. This headstrong man was the lead stallion in her roundup of memories—the one who shared the missing half of buried moments.

  He took her arm and followed her up the steps to the reserved section. Tita and Suzy waved, and jumped up and down like excited kids. “Great ride, Señor Matt,” Tita said.

  Suzy punched his arm. “Ride ’em, cowboy!”

  Matt shrugged, and a flush crawled up his neck. “Thanks.” He turned to Wanda, who was jiggling Sara Jane on her knee. “May I borrow your cell phone?”

  “Of course. Anything the matter?” Wanda asked, fishing the cell from her pocket and handing it over to Matt.

  “Nah. Just a little business to clear up.” Molly heard him order a search of the grounds for Ramon. Then he flicked the phone closed, handed it back to Wanda and said, “We’re going to get something to eat. Want to come along?”

  “You go on,” Tita said. “Roberto is getting something for us.”

  Matt reached for Sara Jane. “Come to Daddy, sunshine.”

  Daddy. Molly’s breath caught. She and Tita exchanged glances. Was Tita thinking what she was? That Matt was getting too close, and when she left and took Sara Jane he’d be heartbroken.

  Matt buckled Sara Jane into her car seat and then picked up both carrier and baby. Like a real family, they headed down the grandstand steps.

  At a nearby food stand, Matt bought hot dogs and drinks. Molly led their way out of the arena, past the spouting fountain, and wished she could climb over the low wall and splash in the misty waters to cool off and forget the men after her and her baby.

  She headed to a picnic table under a group of pines. Matt lifted Sara Jane from the car seat and bounced her against his chest. She cooed and grabbed his nose. He laughed and lifted her high over his head. Molly loved his gentleness, his playfulness. The man was a natural father.

  Smiling, Molly removed the wrappers from the hot dogs. “Want catsup, mustard, relish?” She flashed an array of condiment packets.

  “The works.” He lowered Sara Jane to the car seat and popped a pacifier in her mouth. “I’ll getcha a fresh bottle of cow juice in a few minutes, sunshine.”

  They sat down at the picnic table side by side. Molly handed the doctored hot dog to Matt and stared at hers.

  “You like yours plain.”

  “I do?” It was unnerving that he knew more about her than she knew about herself. She lifted her chin and shot him a look. “Perhaps my tastes have changed.” She slathered catsup on her bun. She took a bite and the next instant wished she’d left it plain. She munched for a moment, then skewered him with her gaze. “Why did you ride the bull?”

  Matt winked and reached over to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, grazing her cheek, blazing a trail of heat over her sensitive skin. “You really want to know?” She nodded. He shrugged. “Sexual frustration. Had to work off some of that tension you triggered or explode.”

  He took another bite of his hot dog, then ran his tongue over his lips, taking his time to lick away bits of catsup and relish with a thoroughness that quickened Molly’s heartbeat.

  Maybe she should ride a bull. Her frustrations were building, tightening her nerves to the point of snapping. “If you’d been hurt, who would protect Sara Jane?”

  Matt feigned a sad face beneath the shadow of his misshapen Stetson. “And here I thought you were worried about me.”

  She gave his arm a squeeze, then punched it for emphasis. �
�I was worried about you, and I still am. But my baby is my first priority.”

  He reached over and ruffled Sara Jane’s downy hair. “Mine, too.” His voice deepened, and he turned back to Molly. His serious eyes locked with hers. “I won’t let anything happen to either of you.”

  She wanted to believe him, but there were still too many unanswered questions. “What about the stuff Ramon said about Parker—that he’d kill you to get what’s due him? What did he mean by that, Matt?”

  Matt looked down at his boots for a moment. “It’s just talk. We’re family. But I decided both of my brothers needed to get away for a while, and I’ve sent them on a little forced vacation.”

  “Forced?”

  “Intervention and treatment.” Matt gave a ragged sigh. “You were right, Molly. I avoided taking action for far too long.”

  Adrenaline surged through Molly, flooding her with mixed emotions. “The intervention may have saved their lives. But after what Ramon said, I’m worried that Parker might try to end yours.”

  Matt washed a bite of hot dog down with cola. “Don’t worry until there’s something to worry about.”

  She sighed with frustration. “Men! I’d say that stallion has already left the corral.”

  He laughed, but he looked worried. “You’ve said some things…” He paused and clasped her hand. Heat shot up her arm. “I think you’re starting to remember more than you’ve told me.”

  Her cheeks flamed hot. Still unsure how much she wanted to tell him, she chose a subject guaranteed to distract. “There was this X-rated dream of us together…”

  He lifted a brow and a slow, wicked grin spread across his face. “No kidding. This I gotta hear.”

  Her comment was a diversionary tactic, but the dream was real enough…The room had been silvery with moonlight. She couldn’t get enough of him—couldn’t tell where her body began and his left off. Flames shot through her now just thinking about it. No, she couldn’t divulge this. Not now. “It isn’t relevant.”

  “Come on, live dangerously.” Matt’s sultry once-over sent a shiver through her. “I’ll tell you if anything like it ever really happened.”

  “Living dangerously is what got me into trouble in the first place. Which leads me to something that does apply. I remember going to a party to get the goods on Del Fuego. What I learned forced me into hiding.”

  Matt’s eyes held steady. “You remember meeting me?”

  “Some of it.” He was the best-looking man she’d ever met—that much she remembered. With his dark, bad-boy looks she’d thought he might even be one of Del Fuego’s men. “Just up to the part where you got into my car.”

  “Nothing else?” He sounded disappointed.

  She thought of the coins buried at the back of her drawer, and about Matt’s lies. She wanted to trust him, but—“What haven’t you told me?”

  Something flickered in his eyes. “I’ve told you all I know about the case.”

  “And on a personal level?”

  He tipped her chin, the touch of his fingers sending tiny flames skittering through her body. “Look at me, Molly. Don’t play games. Tell me what you remember. All of it. What you know could kill you—could kill Sara Jane.”

  His touch and the urgency in his words awoke a vivid awareness. In that moment, she believed she could count on him and trust him with her doubts, her fears. “I…I saw an image of blood-spattered walls,” she said, wishing the image wasn’t so vivid.

  He nodded, his eyes solemn. “It was the so-called safe house where the agents assigned to protect you were murdered.”

  Sadness and regret welled in her. She’d already figured out the place and the circumstances for herself, and the knowledge filled her with guilt. She had escaped the hit by taking a risk and breaking the rules. Perhaps, if she hadn’t slipped away to get more information for her news story, her protectors would still be alive, and her baby wouldn’t have been kidnapped and exposed to dangers she couldn’t bear to imagine. The guilt was almost paralyzing.

  As though her expression had transmitted her thoughts, Matt turned her fully to him and squeezed her shoulders. “If you’d been there, you’d be dead,” he said. “Don’t doubt that for a minute. Your escape may be the one thing that ensured Sara Jane’s safety. Del Fuego needed her to lure you.”

  Molly tossed aside the rest of her hot dog; her appetite was gone. She wanted desperately to believe Matt’s evaluation of the situation—it would ease her burden of guilt.

  “Anything else?” he prompted.

  She took a breath and a leap of faith. “Is Del Fuego a coin collector?”

  “Yeah, he is. He’s big on rare coins.”

  “What about…three antique silver coins?”

  “Could be his. Why?” Matt asked.

  Her heartbeat pulsed a near-deafening roar in her ears. She met Matt’s gaze. “I have the coins.”

  “Damn.” His jaw tightened. “That’s what you were hiding in the drawer!”

  Heat scorched her cheeks. To distract Matt, she’d thrown herself at him like a Jezebel wrapped in that burgundy towel. Molly wallowed in shame for a heartbeat or two, then squared her shoulders. “If my source was right, the coins are microchips containing the complete books of Del Fuego’s illegal operations.”

  “For cryin’ out loud, Molly!” Matt jumped to his feet, knocking over the last of his drink. “Why didn’t you tell me this immediately?”

  With trembling hands she mopped up the spilled cola with a napkin, then stared up at him. “I just couldn’t, Matt. From the very first, I’ve been suspicious of you. Even though I couldn’t remember a thing, it was hard to accept what you were telling me. It just didn’t feel right. Then when I overheard your argument with Parker, my suspicions were confirmed.” Her throat felt dry. “If you’d been straight with me from the beginning—”

  Matt jerked away from the hand she had reached out to him and began to pace. “Dear God. Del Fuego won’t stop until he gets those coins back and shovels dirt on your grave.” Matt paused, his face twisting with anger. “It’s that competitive reporter thing, isn’t it? When you remembered being a reporter, you wanted to keep the documentation of his crimes to yourself until you could break your big story.”

  The jagged edge of his raw contempt shook her to the core. “No!” she said. “I don’t know for sure if the coins are microchips or if they contain Del Fuego’s books. But if they do, I need the evidence to back up my testimony and put that monster away for life.”

  “You wouldn’t save them for a great story?”

  “No.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “Maybe.”

  The contraction of Matt’s pupils seemed to dare her to admit a truth she’d only now realized.

  “Well, okay, yes,” she said. “But I planned to tell you about the coins after I was sure I could trust you. I wouldn’t hold out such crucial evidence just for a story, Matt. You have to believe that!” Her voice broke, and she took a deep breath to regain her composure. “I still have these large gaps of missing memory. I need to know exactly what we meant to each other. It wasn’t enough or you c-couldn’t have left me.”

  He recoiled as though she’d punched him in the jaw. “That’s not true.”

  “Isn’t it? What happened the night I drove you to the hotel?” She looked down at her hands. “Was that when we became lovers? We were lovers, right?”

  “I wish you remembered.”

  The anguish in his tone magnified her understanding. He was locked into some kind of honor-bound vow with himself. “So do I,” she said, so soft she wondered if he’d heard her. It was clear that although he wanted her now more than ever, he would deny himself until she remembered everything on her own. And the irony of it all…what if the only thing that could trigger that part of her memory would be making love with him again?

  “We were more than just lovers, Molly.” Matt’s voice was ragged. “I love you. Always have, always will.”

  Her breath caught. She wanted to believe—<
br />
  “When did you decide to trust me enough to tell me all this?” he asked, his gaze level.

  “When I heard Ramon say your brother might kill you—when you almost killed yourself riding that bull.” Molly couldn’t control the tremor in her voice.

  Something flickered in Matt’s eyes. “Damn it. Holding things back from one another has done nothing but increase the danger. If we’re going to survive this, we have to work together.”

  “Too bad you didn’t realize that from the beginning.” She hated the sarcasm in her tone, but it was the truth, and they both knew it.

  He nodded. “I know most of this is my fault, and I’ll do whatever I can to help you learn to trust me again.”

  “No more lies?”

  “Not to you. That’s a promise.” He rubbed a hand along his jaw. “Can you trust me now? I mean all the way?”

  She swallowed. “What do you mean?”

  “I need those coins.”

  ****

  Matt watched Molly slide the dresser drawer open and withdraw a small velvet pouch. Her hands trembled. She turned to face him, her eyes deepening to the greenest green he’d ever seen them. Her tangible hesitancy lashed the air like a whip. “It’s okay, Molly. I’ll get the coins to a micro-tech lab for analysis. We have to know what we’re dealing with.”

  He ached all over from riding the Brahma, but the sight of Molly’s thick auburn hair flowing about her shoulders and her slim body encased in those faded jeans shot painkilling endorphins through his veins. Old images flickered in his head. They had parked somewhere to share information and had ended up sharing passion.

  Midnight darkness slipped from the Dallas sky to pool in the alley about them like a cocoon. He removed the Styrofoam cup with the dregs of coffee from her hand and kissed her—lightly, then harder, thrusting his tongue into a mouth warmed by the coffee and sweetened by cream and sugar. High on the adrenaline of the impending danger, they gave in to the heat and excitement of one another’s arms, then crawled into the back seat and went at it wildly like teenagers with raging hormones…