A Rancher’s Brand of Justice

by Ann Voss Peterson

  “Where’s your gun?” Nick kept his eyes on the direction the two gang members had gone until he could no longer hear the smack of their sneakers on pavement.

  “Were those the guys? The guys in the sedan? The ones who shot Jimmy and Essie?”

  “No.” He didn’t have the slightest question in his mind. “What did they want?”

  “You’re sure these two weren’t in that car?”

  “I’m sure. What did they want?”

  “I’ll fill you in later.”

  “No, now.”

  She gestured up the street behind him. “Where’s Jason?”

  “He’s locked in the truck, watching a movie.” The little guy had run and climbed and slid until tired and cranky had taken him over. Desperate for quiet, Nick had taken him out to the truck, hoping a movie could lull him into a more quiet state. That’s when he’d spotted Melissa take her detour and head down the opposite street, two rough-looking teens following behind. He glanced back toward the truck. “I can see Jason from here.”

  She walked past him, heading for the truck.

  He fell in beside her. “What did they want?”

  “They wanted to tell me José Sanchez is innocent.”

  “And they pulled a knife to convince you?” Seemed like a bad move if you wanted to convince someone to trust you.

  “They were lacking a bit in their powers of persuasion.” A tremble behind her voice undercut the wryness of her humor and confidence of her stride. She was more shaken than she wanted him to believe.

  He fought the urge to touch her. “You believe them?”

  “I don’t know what to believe.” Melissa grabbed the door handle on the passenger side.

  The siren wailed louder, closer.

  Nick dashed around to the driver’s side. If he wanted answers to his questions, he’d better hurry, because he sure wouldn’t get them from the police.

  JIMMY’S CABIN WAS ABOUT as fancy as the man himself. In other words, a dump. But even though Melissa had never been there before, it felt as familiar as an old friend’s voice.

  The outside wasn’t the typical rustic-looking cabin constructed of rough-hewn lodgepole pine, not like Nick’s ranch. Instead, it looked like it had been slapped together with plywood, duct tape and more than a little prayer.

  Nick gave the door a hard shove with one hip to convince it to open. Jason raced inside.

  Picturing a rat infestation, or worse, Melissa quickly stepped in behind him. The place was in order and housed no rodents that she could see. Probably thanks to Tammy’s cleaning skills or the strong odor of mothballs that hung in the air.

  Nick stepped in behind, hauling the suitcases they’d packed back at the ranch and following with the boxes. Once that was done, he scanned the single bedroom, the bathroom that sported a heavy plastic curtain instead of a door and the hot plate balanced on the dorm refrigerator and smiled. “I like it.”

  Melissa wasn’t sure what there was to like for a person with no emotional attachment to the place or the owner, especially a man with a perfectly picturesque ranch like the Circle J. But she liked that he’d voiced approval of the dump anyway, even if it didn’t make a lot of sense. “There’s firewood in here already. If you start a fire, I’ll spoon one of these casseroles into Tammy’s Crock-Pot.

  “Deal.” He crossed to the little fireplace. Made of carefully laid stone, it was clearly the part of the cabin where Jimmy invested the most money and time. She remembered how many hours he’d spent building it stone by stone. She had no doubt that to Jimmy, this fireplace was as grand as Nick’s at the Circle J. And the way Nick stood in front of it, one leg cocked while he studied the rock and nodded approvingly…it would have made Jimmy proud.

  She tore her gaze from Nick and focused on the sad excuse for a kitchen. After all that had happened the past few hours, she was grateful to focus on something as normal and domestic as heating a casserole while her thoughts settled. She’d successfully fended off Nick’s questions about her meeting with Seth and the whereabouts of her gun on the drive up. As long as she stayed busy now, she could continue to do so. And getting some distance from Nick, even if it was only across the room, was a bonus.

  She needed to tell him all of it sometime. She knew that. But something was holding her back, something beyond the very awake and alert four-year-old now jumping on one of the twin beds. And she suspected it had a lot to do with her sorting through her own thoughts and feelings first.

  She eyed the boxes Nick had set just inside the door. Now that she knew more about Calhoun’s theories, the first thing she needed to do was take another look at Gayle’s papers. Even the thought inspired a dread deep in her chest that she didn’t want to face.

  So she focused on heating dinner, and he built a fire. Soon they were warm and fed and Jason’s eyelids were drooping over his big blue eyes.

  Nick gestured to Melissa. “Want to tuck him in B-E-D?”

  Melissa almost nodded but caught herself just in time. Nick was the boy’s parent. Not her. Enabling him to duck the hard work of forging a relationship with his son would do neither him nor Jason any favors. And it would be just the opportunity she needed to get a peek at those papers alone. “I think you should this time.”

  “That doesn’t usually go over well.”

  “You’re not keeping your mind on the outcome you want.” She gave him a smile that she hoped was reassuring. “Besides, you two need to get some of these things worked out.”

  He blew a stream of air through puffed cheeks. “I suppose you’re right.”

  He strode into the living room and knelt down to where Jason was playing with his superhero action figures. “Hey, Buddy. Do you want to bring these guys into bed with you?”

  Jason stuck out his little chin. “Don’t wanna go to bed.”

  “It’s time. Now, do you want to bring your toys?”

  “No.”

  Nick glanced in Melissa’s direction. He got up and joined her next to the sink. “What am I doing wrong? It worked for you at the ranch.”

  “I don’t wanna go to the ranch.”

  Nick stilled, as if bracing himself against the blow.

  “I hate the ranch. I don’t wanna go.”

  Melissa rinsed the last plastic plate from dinner and dried it with a ratty towel. She dropped her voice to a low whisper. “He knows that bothers you. That’s all.”

  Nick focused on the little boy. “Time to go.” He scooped him up and carried him to the little bedroom. He closed the door behind him, its paperlike thickness blocking little of Jason’s mutiny scream.

  Melissa pulled in a shaky breath and propped the box with Gayle’s papers on one hip. Toting it to the old couch near the fireplace, she lowered herself onto a seat that hollowed out like a bucket beneath her and set the box between her knees. Nick had his challenges, she had hers.

  She picked a folder out of the box and began sorting through the papers one more time. Soon Jason’s protests stopped and she heard the low hum of Nick reading him a story. She flipped through one folder after the next. She had just located the file of charge card bills when Nick came back in the room.

  “I have no idea if I did that right, but it’s done.”

  “Sounded like it went okay.” A nervous flutter stirred in the pit of her stomach as she fingered the folder’s cover.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing.” She stared at the folder in her hand. “I know Jimmy didn’t do any of the things Calhoun is accusing him of, yet…”

  “You’re worried about what you’ll find inside?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What can I help you with?” He reached out a hand for the folder in her lap.

  She grabbed a folder she’d already been through and handed it to him instead.

  “Phone records? Didn’t we go over these back at the ranch?” He took it and sat on a recliner. Old springs creaked under his weight.

  “I’m just making sure we didn’t miss anything.” She should
just tell him about Calhoun’s suspicions that Jimmy and Gayle were having an affair. But seeing that it was his ex-wife, that seemed like sensitive territory. And if she was being honest, she couldn’t shake the feeling that saying it out loud would make it true.

  She scooped in a deep breath and flipped open the cover of the credit card folder. The first thing she saw was a hotel charge.

  Melissa’s heartbeat accelerated. She eyed the hotel’s address. The downtown Hilton, uncomfortably close to the Denver P.D.’s downtown station.

  Nick let out a frustrated breath. “I don’t see anything here that we didn’t notice before.”

  “Keep looking.” She flinched inwardly at the stress in her voice and flipped to the next page of charges. Sure enough. Another charge at the Hilton in the middle of the week. And another. She brought her fingers to her lips and closed her eyes.

  “Melissa, what are you really looking for?”

  Nick’s voice gave her a jolt. She slapped her palm over the page of charges and opened her eyes.

  He gave her a questioning look.

  What was she doing? She must be losing her mind. She slid her hand off the side of the page. It was right in front of her in black and white. Saying it out loud wasn’t likely to make things more real than that. “Gayle was charging hotel rooms in downtown Denver during the workweek.”

  He raised his brows but said nothing, just waited for her to continue.

  She forced herself to tell him about Calhoun’s theories, each word ripping a little piece of her away.

  “So Gayle was having an affair with Detective Bernard? That’s why the hotel rooms?” he said, joining the dots Melissa hadn’t wanted to connect out loud. He seemed so calm about it. As if he was discussing a woman who was no more than a stranger to him.

  “It’s impossible.”

  He answered her with silence.

  “Jimmy wouldn’t. Not any more than he would take bribes.”

  Again, not a word.

  “You don’t believe me.”

  “People make mistakes, Melissa. Marriages fall apart for all kinds of reasons.”

  “Not Jimmy and Tammy’s.”

  “How do you know that? You weren’t part of it. Hell, I wasn’t even fully aware that my own marriage was so far gone until…well, until Gayle really was gone.” He thrust himself up from the recliner and took the spot on the couch next to her. “There might have been things happening that you didn’t know about. Reasons Jimmy had for making choices that don’t seem so smart once everything falls apart.”

  “You had an affair when you were married to Gayle?”

  “No. Nothing like that.”

  “Then it’s different.”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe. Maybe not. I never really gave our marriage a chance. Of course I didn’t see it at the time, but I chose the ranch over Gayle long before she left. I probably shouldn’t have been surprised when she finally chose the city over me.”

  It made sense. His desperation to sell his son on horseback riding. The stricken look that had crossed his face when Jason had said he hated the Circle J. “You’re worried Jason will hate the ranch like Gayle did, that he’ll leave you, too.”

  He looked down at the fire. “When you say it out loud, it sounds so stupid.”

  She let the papers fall loose on her lap. She had a horrible urge to take him in her arms. To bring her lips to his like she had last night. To show him just how special she thought he was. “Your ranch is wonderful. It really is. But you know what?”

  “Let me guess. I’m not my ranch?”

  “You’re even better.” It was corny as hell, and she shouldn’t have said it. It was as reckless and stupid as last night’s kiss. But right then—after he’d admitted so much—she had to be honest. When she met him, she’d been drawn to the cowboy fantasy. But in the past few days, she’d grown to know him better. She’d come to see that the reality of Nick Raymond was far more seductive than any Stetson-wearing hero on a silver screen. And while she couldn’t afford to let anything grow between them, she also could no longer pretend the feelings she had didn’t exist.

  He reached out and ran his fingers along her cheek. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

  She leaned her face into his touch. The feelings that had swamped her during their kiss welled inside, threatening to pull her under again. What she wouldn’t give to forget everything and just let herself feel. Give herself over to that urge inside. Let herself go.

  A jitter seized low in her chest. Not butterflies. Not warmth. Something dark and cold and unforgiving. Reaching up to her cheek, she took his hand in hers and cradled it safely in her lap. It was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do. “I never understood my mother. Not until now.”

  His brows dipped low over his eyes. “Your mother?”

  Melissa nodded. She knew it seemed like a non sequitur. To her, the leap from this out-of-control need to her mother was as natural as breathing. “She was the most carefree person I’ve ever known. And the most dependent.”

  “On you?”

  “On men.”

  “Boyfriends?”

  “One after another. She was beautiful. Men liked her. Good thing. I don’t think she could have survived without a man. Not physically. Not emotionally.” She could feel him watching her, probably trying to figure out where in the world she was coming from, but she didn’t dare look up into his eyes. She just focused on his hands, rubbing her fingertips over thick calluses and square nails.

  “That had to be mighty hard on you.”

  “Some of her boyfriends weren’t the best of men.”

  “They hurt you?”

  She shook her head. That would probably make sense to him. That she didn’t want to get involved because she’d been abused. She’d been lucky. And when she’d felt any kind of leer or threat from one of her mother’s men, she’d tried not to stick around. “I ran away a lot. Waited for the booze to wear off, waited for my mother to find another man. Waited until I was picked up by the cops. Only one time when I was brought back, my mother was no longer there.”

  “What happened?”

  “She was killed. Murdered by her boyfriend.”

  He turned the tables on her, this time, rubbing his fingers over hers, cupping her hands with his. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Not for me, anyway. The guy who brought me back that time was an officer named Jimmy Bernard. And he changed my life.”

  He nodded, as if he understood her bond with Jimmy. “He was there when you needed him.”

  “And he never left.” She tried to swallow, but her throat was too thick to function. Funny she could talk about her mother’s tragic death without batting an eye, but even good things about Jimmy…they were just too close. “Jimmy was the only one I could count on, you know?”

  “And now you’re not sure.”

  The room blurred into a watery mosaic of color. She opened her eyes wide so the tears wouldn’t break free. She didn’t want to admit it, that her belief in Jimmy had been shaken. She didn’t want to even think it, let alone say it out loud.

  “What else happened in that meeting tonight, Melissa? Where is your gun?”

  “Seth put me on administrative leave.”

  “Administrative leave?”

  “I’m suspended. I had to turn in my ID and gun.” She looked down at the tangle of their fingers. “I don’t have any legal authority and I’m unarmed.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me right away?”

  “I don’t know. I needed to get used to the idea myself first, I guess.”

  “And did that work?”

  She didn’t even bother shaking her head. “I can’t protect you anymore. You were right all along. Coming back wasn’t such a good idea.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t take Jason back to the ranch. Not until those men are caught.”

  “So go somewhere else. Anywhere else. Just until this all blows over.”

  “And when will tha
t happen?”

  “I don’t know.”

  His lips flattened into a line, and he stared into the fire. “And if I did that, just went somewhere, what would you do?”

  She pulled herself up. “Jimmy was there for me when I needed him most. I have to be there for him.”

  Nick’s lips flattened into a line. “If things change, our plans will have to change with them. But for now, I don’t see any reason to change anything. You’ll be there for Jimmy, and I’ll be here for you.”

  A spot beneath her throat hollowed out and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. When she recovered her voice, it sounded thin and weak. “You don’t need to save me.”

  “Who said anything about saving?”

  “You weren’t thinking that? After what happened on the street tonight?”

  “I didn’t save you out there. I simply had your back.” He canted his head to the side. “And a handy hunting rifle.”

  She wanted to smile at that last bit. She needed to smile, make light of this. But somehow, she just didn’t have it in her. “I can’t.”

  “You need someone you can rely on, and I’m here. It doesn’t have to mean any more than that. That’s all there needs to be.”

  She shook her head. “I still…I can’t.”

  “Why not?’

  “Because what if I do rely on you, and then you’re not there?” Like her mother. Like Seth. Maybe even like Jimmy. It was the fear that had always gnawed at the back of her mind, ever since she was a kid. And no matter what answer Nick gave her, she knew he couldn’t make it go away.

  Chapter Twelve

  When Nick awoke the next morning, mired in the lumpiest couch on the planet, the last thing he expected to find was no Melissa. And no truck.

  He leaned against the doorjamb, the cool morning air raising chills over his skin. Obviously she’d been serious about not relying on him last night.

  Pajama feet shuffled across the floor behind him. “Where did Melissa go?”

  Good question. He closed the cabin’s front door and turned to face his son. No doubt he’d have even more of a problem with Melissa’s absence than Nick did. He braced himself for the disappointment and the inevitable battle over breakfast food. “She had some errands to run. I guess you’re stuck with me.”