Special Cowboy Menage Collection

by Morgan Ashbury

  Next, she went through the cupboards, dragging one of the chairs from the table so she could reach the upper shelves. She checked the fridge, the freezer, the stove. She moved the washer and dryer, though if Annie had been sly enough to tape the key on the inside shell of the dryer, Veronica wouldn’t find it. She had no clue how to get the appliance apart. She even picked up the cutting board Annie kept in the middle of her small kitchen table, examining it under the tiny light she’d brought, searching for a seam or some indication that the board hid a secret pocket. Nothing.

  Veronica gave the rest of the apartment an exacting search. Annie didn’t have a lot of stuff or a lot of storage space.

  She thought she hit pay dirt when she found an envelope at the bottom of a metal box full of photos. The envelope, small and white had Annie’s name written on it in her late husband’s hand. But all it held was a pair of ticket stubs to a Yankee’s game.

  The bedroom was the last room Veronica searched. She sat on the bed while her mind turned over the possibilities.

  She’d had no indication that Annie was hiding a secret agenda. The assumption had all been hers, based on the fact the woman had more or less run away from her past.

  But if Annie didn’t know anything about what her husband had done in the two years before he died, then what? If Jimmy had stashed the goods, Annie would have found it, or, given the time she’d spent on the search, Veronica would have. So nothing had been left in an obvious place. It must have been hidden, either in a safe place back in New York, or maybe secreted somehow amongst Annie’s stuff.

  She couldn’t very well tear Annie’s things apart. So that left only one option. She would wait and watch. If that moron showed up, she’d know—and go from there.

  Veronica reminded herself of one very important fact. The man might be a moron, but he also might know where the goods were. And if he showed up, then they had to be here.

  * * * *

  Rick left his car on one of the side streets and walked back toward the store. He figured there must be a back entrance if Annie lived there. He found it in no time.

  He couldn’t imagine his little sister-in-law living in this dry-as-dirt, wind-always-howling piece of Nowhere, Wyoming. She was New York born and bred, just like him. He’d only been in the area a day and already his skin was crawling. Give him traffic, tall buildings, and that old concrete jungle any day.

  No cars were parked on the dirt lot behind the store, though there was one behind the next building. He didn’t actually see any people, but just because he didn’t see them didn’t mean they weren’t there, looking out, spying on him.

  The smart thing to do would be to wait in the shadowy corner by the shed just over to his right. Wait and watch, see what was what.

  Rick hadn’t always done the smart thing. But he planned to, beginning the moment he’d walked out the gate of that prison. He could stand in the dark for an hour or so. Hell, he’d waited all those stinking days and nights behind bars, and had already come across the country. What was waiting out in the night shadows compared to all of that?

  It would be easy to just barge right in on Annie, but he didn’t know if she was alone or even if she was home.

  That quick flash of her in the window as he drove by earlier had been a hell of a tease and a hell of a turn-on. And not nearly enough to satisfy the wanting that had built up while he’d been away.

  The sound of a car engine got his feet moving. He trotted over to the shed, slapped his back against the wall and sucked in his belly just as headlights swept the tiny street behind him. Then they cut off even as the car moved closer. For one wild second, he figured he’d been seen, that someone had called the local cops.

  Fuck. What the hell is this? The late model Caddy coasted past him, stopping not far from the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the second floor. In the light that flashed in the quick moment when the car door opened then closed softly, Rick caught a glimpse of sleek black hair pulled up in a clip and white creamy flesh.

  Now isn’t this interesting? He watched the woman, watched as she looked around. Skulking. A howl cut the night, the piercing cry making the woman jump, unsettling her. Him, too. He hoped to God whatever that had been was far away and not hungry.

  After a few moments, she went up the stairs to Annie’s apartment. She paused at the door, looked around, then bent down. Then she was inside.

  Rick waited but no lights came on.

  Working on a hunch, he crept over to the car. One eye on the apartment upstairs, he looked inside.

  A woman’s purse lay on the front passenger’s seat. Rick tried the door handle. Unlocked.

  City girl should know better.

  Quick and quiet, he scooped the bag, then shut the door softly. He kept a lookout as he reached in, extracted the wallet. Flipping it open, he found the driver’s license. Daring to take his eyes for a moment off Annie’s apartment, he pulled out his cigarette lighter. Squatting down, he flicked it, quickly scanning the information in the flickering flame. He didn’t know the town, but it was so freaking small, he wouldn’t have any trouble finding that address.

  He returned the wallet to the bag and put it back on the car seat. Shutting the door silently, he slid back to his hiding place.

  Annie obviously wasn’t home, or Veronica Ferris wouldn’t have just pulled that little B & E.

  He’d wait and see what the Ferris woman came out with. And if she hit the mother lode, he’d simply relieve her of the goods.

  Twenty minutes later, the door opened and the woman emerged. She carried nothing in her hands. The moon spotlighted her silhouette as she descended the stairs and headed for the Caddy. Her clothes clung tight, he could see she had nothing in her pockets but the keys she pulled out.

  Rick was in no hurry to follow after she drove off. He knew where she lived. Casting a glance up toward Annie’s place, he considered searching the place himself, then shook his head.

  He’d wait, catch Annie at home. Besides, he had an idea where the stones were. He really did want to spend some time one-on-one with Annie. If the little cunt knew what had gone down, knew about the gems, he’d soon know. If she didn’t, then he’d find what he was looking for on his own. Checking around him, he could see no sign of anyone lurking about. Anxious to get back to some semblance of civilization, he headed back to his car.

  He’d have to figure out where Annie was, and when he could get her alone. Then he could get on with the rest of his life.

  * * * *

  From his position in the field just a half dozen yards the other side of Back Street, Billy Woods lowered his binoculars and rolled over onto his back. I’m getting too old for all this skullduggery. He had a kink in his neck, one in his back, and could only be grateful the grass hadn’t been thick with dew.

  He also had one hell of a dilemma.

  It looked as if Annie Rutherford really was smack dab in the middle of this mess when he would have sworn she wasn’t. It also looked as if the players were a bit more desperate than he calculated. If he weren’t careful, all the work of the last seven months would go into the toilet and the fortune he’d been counting on would slip right through his fingers.

  He sat up, massaged his back, and got to his feet. For a long moment, he contemplated his next step.

  Then a smile ghosted across his face. The way he saw things, he had one chance to do what he’d set out to do when he’d left New York.

  It was time to get to work.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Annie came awake to the twin sensations of being cuddled between two hard male bodies and having a work-roughened male hand stroke down her naked back.

  “Mmm.” She wished she could offer more articulate conversation than that, but words were beyond her.

  “It turns me on that between us, Grant and I can reduce you to incoherent sounds.”

  Annie laughed, the sound low and sultry even to her own ears. “What time is it?”

  “Can’t see the clock from here. B
esides, I am too busy looking at your luscious ass.” Jesse spoke softly. Annie turned her head toward the other side of the bed, where she knew a clock kept time on the bedside table. She felt her smile soften as she realized Grant was asleep. She cast her gaze to the time. It was just past midnight.

  Sighing, she turned her head, laid back down on her pillow, and looked at Jesse. Beautifully naked, he lay on his side, propped up on his right hand. The look of male smugness on his face gave her a warm sensation in the pit of her belly. He looked like a man who had just had himself one hell of a good time.

  Which she could attest was nothing but the truth.

  “What are you smiling at?” he asked, his own grin widening.

  “You and that smug look you’re wearing.”

  “You should smile over that, sweetheart. You put it there.”

  “Yep. That’s why I’m smiling.” She felt her teasing mood slip just a notch. She let it. Focusing on his eyes, she said, “Do you have any idea what a wonder it seems to me that I can satisfy you both? That I can have orgasm after orgasm without having to reach for them?”

  “I meant what I said earlier, Annie.” It would seem the teasing mood had slipped just a notch within Jesse, too. His grin smoothed into an expression she could only call contemplative. “I don’t like to talk in disrespect of the dead, but that asshole you were married to needed to have a beating laid on him for how he treated you, and what he did to you.”

  “I’ll remind you that I chose that asshole. So part of the blame is mine.”

  “For being deceived?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe a part of me recognized my father in him and decided escaping home was worth the bullshit I’d go through with Jim. Which makes me responsible not only for what happened to me, but for my baby’s death, too.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Grant’s one-word epithet cut into the night. She felt him shift on the mattress.

  “We all make errors in judgment, Annie. That’s not the same as being guilty in the sense you mean.”

  Grant copied Jesse’s pose. Anne turned onto her back so she could look at them both. They were strong men, both more muscular than Jim had been. Yet not one ounce of fear stirred in her. She lay more vulnerable than she’d ever been in her life and felt completely safe.

  “Stop beating yourself up, sweetheart,” Jesse said

  “It’s how I feel.”

  “Yeah, we got that. Maybe after a while, we can get you feeling some other way.” Grant smoothed the sheet she’d automatically hugged to her breasts when she turned onto her back. Then he pulled it to her waist. “Given enough time, I bet Jesse and I could get you feeling nothing but very well loved.” He began to caress her breast, nearly robbing her of all thought.

  “Yeah? You figure by the time I have to leave tomorrow?”

  “Oh, no,” Jesse, mirrored Grant’s petting. “No, we’re not short-term thinkers here. We’re talking years.”

  Annie felt her throat tighten. They were the sweetest men she had ever met.

  “Years? That is a nice thought.”

  “You sound doubtful,” Grant observed.

  “No, not doubtful. Just realistic. One day a couple of pretty young things will catch your eyes, and then you’ll be off getting married and making babies. And that’s as it should be,” Annie concluded around the lump that was catching fire in her chest. Of course that was as it should be. Men wanted sons. Well, most men did. To carry on their names, follow in their footsteps.

  The silence stretched out long enough that Annie came out of her thoughts. Jesse and Grant were staring at each other.

  “Looking to get rid of us already?” Jesse asked. Something about his smile stirred her belly. She recognized the hint of vulnerability around the edges of his mouth, and in his eyes. He seemed so self-assured, it never would have occurred to her that he could be unsure ever. But maybe the words she’d meant as a caution to herself had hurt him.

  “No.” Annie turned her gaze to Grant and saw he wore as serious an expression as she’d ever seen on him.

  “No,” she repeated. “I don’t want to get rid of either of you. I want to stay right here. I want more.”

  “Good.” Jesse pulled the sheet off her completely. They spread her legs gently, played their hands up and down her body, caressing her until arousal pushed every thought from her head. “That’s real good, Annie. Because here is where we want you and more is what you’re going to get.”

  * * * *

  “It’ll only take me a couple of minutes to do these dishes up,” Annie said. “You made dinner and breakfast. Come on, fair is fair.”

  “Which is why I’ll throw everything in the dishwasher while you and Jesse get the horses saddled,” Grant said.

  Jesse chuckled. “Give it up, sweetheart. No one wins an argument with Grant. Not even me.”

  When Annie put her hands on her hips and frowned, Grant said, “You can clean up after lunch. Deal?”

  “Why do I have the sneaking suspicion that when lunch time rolls around, one or both of you will distract me while the other does the work?”

  “Because you’re coming to know us very well?” Jesse suggested. Then he forestalled further arguments by grabbing Annie up into very hot and very delicious kiss. Jesse knew he was becoming addicted to the taste of her, and that didn’t bother him one bit. He guessed he ruined the effect of it a little, because he was laughing when he stepped back.

  “Come on, woman. Let’s go get the horses ready while Homer here plays maid.”

  Grant’s response was to grab the dishtowel and flick it at him. Jesse held the door open for Annie, then turned a level look on Grant. His best friend returned it with a brisk nod.

  They had an ulterior motive for not wanting Annie to stay in the house and do the dishes. While they were out saddling the horses, Grant was going to call the Albany County Sheriff’s office. They’d both known the sheriff, George Slater, since junior high. They counted him a good friend and knew he’d help them out.

  Jesse had gotten a tight feeling in his gut last night when Annie mentioned that she thought she’d seen her former brother-in-law. Not surprisingly, Grant experienced that same feeling. They’d let Annie dismiss the observation, and not for the world—or at least, not until they knew otherwise—would they disabuse her of the conclusion she’d made.

  Maybe Annie hadn’t seen the bastard cruising past her shop yesterday afternoon. Maybe he was still rotting away in jail in New York State.

  And maybe he wasn’t.

  A phone call to George, who as Sheriff had access to all that information, was a simple enough step to take.

  Jesse stopped behind Annie, who paused to tip her head back, face into the wind.

  “Of all the things I thought I’d encounter moving out West,” she said when he ran his hand down her back, “the one that surprised me the most is this. The almost constant wind.”

  “It can be a bitch in the winter,” Jesse agreed.

  “Yes. I didn’t test that piece of information. Once the first snow fell, just about every one of my customers warned me about how bad the snow could suddenly drift onto the highway between here and Laramie. Since I didn’t have a lot of driving experience before moving here, I took their advice as gospel.”

  Jesse was in no hurry to move them to the barn. They were out of the house and that was all that mattered. “When we get word a winter storm is going to hit, we set up guide wires from the house to the barns, and from the bunkhouse to the barns, as well. I do that here, and we do it at Grant’s. It wouldn’t take much to get turned around and lost, end up freezing to death. It’s happened, so we all take extra care.”

  Annie shivered, and he hated to scare her. But he knew what she didn’t, that if he and Grant had their way, she’d be living out here with them before the end of next summer.

  “I’m perfectly content to stay inside where it’s safe and warm when the winds howl and the snow flies. Does that make me a wimp?”

  �
��No, it makes you a smart woman.”

  “Who is also a wimp.” She turned and headed toward the barn, getting a few steps ahead. He hurried to catch up.

  “I really wish you’d stop trash-talking yourself, honey. Pisses me off.”

  Annie stopped and turned to face him. A frown marred her brow, and her pretty lips were drawn tight, a sure sign that she wasn’t happy. That bothered him because he understood she wasn’t happy with herself.

  “I don’t mean to piss you off, but I feel as if, just recently, I’ve opened my eyes after a lifetime of living with them glued shut. How the hell could I have allowed myself to stay married to that loser for so long? Why did I believe him when he said I was cold and a lousy lay, useless and worthless?” Shaking her head, she turned and took one step toward the barn.

  Jesse grabbed Annie’s arm, and eased her around until she faced him again.

  “You only know what you know, Annie. People aren’t born with self-esteem. They aren’t born knowing how to make the right choices in life. Those are things we learn. And how the hell can we learn them if no one is there to teach us?”

  Annie turned her gaze away from him. The pink washing her cheeks told him more than her words how disappointed she was in herself. How could he get her to see that disappointment was a waste of time? How could he make her understand how he felt, how he knew Grant felt?

  His words came, and with an ease that amazed him. “Maybe, just maybe, you could consider this. Without that, without all that you went through, you would never have come here to Wyoming. I’m not saying you should ever look on the loss of your unborn baby as something positive. Just like I’ll never look at the death of my parents that way. But everything we’ve all been through, good and bad, has brought us to right here and right now. Everything we’ve lived, the three of us, has brought us to the place where we could be together.”