The Accidental Cowboy
Page 9
Right now, she needed to call Olympia. Lavonda couldn’t keep ignoring her friend’s voice mails and texts. She would have to stick with her story that Gwen had forced her to stay on as trail boss to the jolly green Scot.
More importantly, she had a “job” for Olympia, who could use the cash. While Jones and Lavonda went out into the desert again, someone needed to check on the ranch and its inhabitants—Cat and Maizey. The university had agreed to pay Olympia the going rate. Plus, Cat had not liked the man who’d come to take care of the ranch the last time. The other part of her responsibility would be checking on the petroglyphs and one other site.
“How’s it going?” Lavonda said when Olympia answered the phone.
“Why did I help talk Spence into adopting this puppy?”
“Because you didn’t want to disappoint your stepson or your sister?”
Her friend laughed. “You got that right. My sister, however, did not explain to me when she talked us into adopting the puppy that he would grow up to be a small-sized pony. What’s up?”
“I’ve got to take the Scotsman back out into the desert. They still haven’t found another guide.”
“And they won’t, since you’re free.”
“I get to live at this great ranch.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’ve done such a good job of keeping Jones alive that I’ll probably get all kinds of recommendations. Maybe I should become a full-time guide.”
“If that makes you happy.”
“It might,” Lavonda said, and felt herself relax just a little. Talking with Olympia was like talking with her sister, Jessie, without the big-sister I-know-what’s-best-for-you attitude.
“So, how long? Cal liked Cat when he visited and is trying to convince Spence we need a kitten who will grow into a cat, to keep our barn safe from mice. Spence said no, of course. We’ve already got the dog.”
“The only thing that Cat has caught so far has been a scorpion and Hobnobs.”
“Hobnobs? What kind of animal is that?”
“It’s a cookie. Scottish.”
“Scottish, huh? How is your Highlander?”
“He’s not mine and he’s fine.”
“Fine as in fine or as in fiiine?”
“None of your business.”
“Then he’s fiiine. Give me all of the details.”
“No details. I’m just his trail guide.”
“Uh-uh. I don’t believe that—”
“And he’ll be leaving by the fall.”
“Then what?”
“I have plans.”
“Like going to Scotland.”
“Not going to Scotland.”
“It looks beautiful.”
“Arizona is home.”
“Is it? You haven’t settled anywhere.”
“I’m living at Hacienda Bunuelos.”
“Temporarily. If you wanted to follow the professor to Scotland you could...you should.”
Lavonda didn’t want to even think about the appeal of that suggestion. “First, whatever may or may not be going on between Jones and me will not end with a walk down the aisle. Second, I really like living on the ranch, and the university might—”
“Might what?”
“Might be willing to sell.”
“That would be great, Lavonda. It would be nice to have you so close, and I know Jessie would love it if you finally settled down nearby. Your mama and daddy, too.”
“It’s not like I’d live here right away. More like a retirement place. Or second career. Don’t say anything. I haven’t spoken with Gwen, and I’m still working on the logistics.”
“What would you do? Raise broncs?”
“Still working that out.”
“Lavonda, honey,” Olympia said. “Buying the ranch isn’t going to fill up that hole Jones will leave when he goes back to Scotland. You know that, right?”
“This isn’t about Jones. Everyone is after me about my future. Well, I’ve come up with a plan for my future. It’s buying this ranch.” There. She’d said it. Olympia and her whole family could go pound sand. She was buying the ranch and then she’d...well, she’d figure that out.
“I told you, I’d love to have you so close by, but not if you’re not happy. I can tell that Jones is more than a colleague, no matter what you’ve said. That’s why I know the ranch won’t fill the space that he leaves in your life.”
“He’s not. We’re not. I’ll call you with exact dates as soon as I have them. Bye.” Lavonda hung up before her friend could say more. A crackle of plastic caught her attention. Cat sat across the kitchen with an empty packet of Hobnobs. Jones must have forgotten to put them in the freezer. Lavonda wanted to scold the animal but couldn’t because tears clogged her throat. What would she and Cat do when Jones was gone? And he would be going. They had another trip planned, although they’d been putting it off until his shoulder completely healed and maybe because the bed was much more comfortable than the hard ground. He’d been going out on his own to various well-catalogued and -explored sites as part of his research. He’d also driven to other extensively documented locations, staying over as he needed to. She certainly didn’t wait for him to come home when he had classes to teach or was happy that he’d cut at least two of those trips short to get home early.
She wasn’t interested in a forever kind of relationship. Since her last downsizing, she hadn’t been able to commit to a career, so how could she commit to a person? Plus, even if she wanted something more permanent, Jones lived in Scotland. Buying the ranch meant she would call Arizona home.
Or maybe Jones would stay and get a permanent job. He’d talked about how much he loved the West and he’d fit right in. Sure his life had been in Scotland, but who was to say that was the place that best suited him?
* * *
JONES SNEEZED, CURSED and rolled from bed in one motion. Lavonda didn’t stir. He pushed Cat out of the bedroom with one foot as he picked up his buzzing phone on the way to the kitchen, where he could take another allergy pill.
“Yes,” he said as he flipped on lights.
“You took the journal, Ross,” Iain accused.
Why hadn’t he checked his caller ID? And why did his real name sound so odd? “Hello to you.”
“The American Kincaid’s journal is missing.”
Jones pulled the pill bottle from the cabinet.
His brother’s annoyed voice came over the phone again. “I knew there was another reason you headed to Arizona.”
Jones had sufficiently gathered his wits. Reality was not what he wanted to face in the middle of the night after waking pressed up against Lavonda and thinking that maybe they should try another round of...what did she call it?...hide the—
“Are you drunk?” his brother asked.
“You woke me. It’s the middle of the night.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m investigating the use of—”
“Bollocks. You’re after Kincaid’s Cache and its blasted treasure.”
“You saw the paperwork. I know you did. In fact, you approved the research.”
“I approved your investigation of the Hohokam and their use of beans as an alternate source of protein and how that discovery affected the development of their social structure as well as how the culture may be reflective of those in northern Europe. I did not approve you going on a treasure hunt. This is not Raiders of the Lost Ark.”
“Call me at a reasonable time of the day.” Jones chugged more water with his pill. He’d been dosing himself with the allergy tablets after he and Lavonda gave up the plan to just have sex and not sleep together. Not that he’d ever imagined that was going to work. No one wanted to have great sex, then crawl back to their own bed. They
both tried to keep Cat out of the house and especially the bedrooms, but she found her way into spaces that shouldn’t accommodate her bulk.
“This is your last chance.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“I’m telling you the university will sack you if you choose Hollywood over substance again.”
“Hollywood?”
“It’s like you’ve decided that those ridiculous movies are real.”
“The source for the Viking material had been reliable in the past. Not every project finds success. You know that.”
“Of course, I know that. But then not every dig becomes a YouTube video. How could you have been fooled?”
“I was not fooled. Obviously, whatever had been stored there had been removed. But after the video, you and the university wouldn’t give me the opportunity to explore that avenue.”
“The university had already... I tried... I did not call you to talk about the dolls, Ross.”
“It seems that way to me.”
“Let’s play out a hypothetical scenario,” Iain said. Jones would give his brother another three minutes of his attention. “You’ve deciphered the journals and are searching the desert. You find the cave. It’s filled with the treasure or Egyptian artifacts or whatever the hell he said. Then what? Wait a moment. I forgot to add to the hypothetical that the archaeologist lied to—”
“I did not lie.”
“You are not searching for beans as you indicated to the university.”
“I can’t do two things at once?”
Jones wanted to throw the glass because his smug arse of a brother did that to him. Iain was the older and obviously smarter brother. He did well academically and didn’t have any inclination to ride horses too fast or toss a caber. “I’m going back to bed, Iain. I don’t know what delusion you’re working under. I’m doing serious academic work.”
“You’re a bad liar, always have been, which is why you never would have made chairman. You’ve got to flatter. None of that nonsense about being a ‘straight shooter.’ I’m warning you—another treasure hunt will end your chances of any university taking you on. They want academics, not Indiana Jones. I’m just trying to point out the realities of the situation. I don’t see how I can save you this time.”
“I don’t need saving because I am doing research in Arizona.”
“So you say.” His brother paused. “Truly. I’m only trying to help you. My God, man, you’re my little brother.”
“Like you did when you told the reporter after Dolly-Acropolis that I’d been diagnosed with a short-term mental illness?”
“That might not have been the best choice of words.”
“I may not have all of my evidence from this one trip. I may need an extension.”
“I won’t cover for you, because your delusions could ruin my career.”
“I have already told you that my investigations—”
“I might believe you if the journal was not missing, and if I had not seen the files on—”
“You hacked into my computer?” This had gone too far even for Iain.
“No hacking. You worked on the university server.”
“I am doing my stated research.”
“Saying it often enough does not make it true. I’m your brother. I know you.”
He heard footfalls in the hallway and instantly lowered his voice. “I’ve got to go.”
Lavonda’s sleepy voice said from just behind him, “Who are you talking to? Is there something wrong? It’s the middle of the night. Why is Cat sitting on your foot?”
Jones swore and barely heard his brother’s comment. “A woman. This is about a woman.”
“Iain, I’m ringing off.”
“Ross, don’t let a pair of—”
“Don’t say anything more. Goodbye, Iain.” Jones turned off the phone before his brother made a remark that would completely destroy whatever very thin thread of filial connection remained between them. He nudged Cat from his foot, and the animal strolled away, tail in the air, toward his room. Damn. Maybe they should go to Lavonda’s room at the back of the ranch house in the separate quarters. Perhaps Cat had not contaminated that area too thoroughly.
Lavonda snuggled up to him. “Who was that?” she asked again, her face laid comfortably against his chest.
“No one.”
She shook her head. “A long conversation for no one.”
“It’s late.”
“Sounded like a sibling.”
He stiffened.
“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”
“Just the usual.”
She burrowed into his arms, holding on tight. “You don’t get along?” she asked quietly.
“Just the usual brother...stuff.”
“Family. Can’t live with them and you can’t blackmail them.”
“Something like that.”
Lavonda pulled back enough to look into his face. Her brows arched upward. “Much worse than he borrowed your Ninja Turtle shield and nunchaku.”
Jones hesitated. He wanted to explain to her how his family wasn’t like hers. She might complain about her brother and sister and her parents and all of the extended family, but it was the sort of complaining based in the sure knowledge that every one of those people could be counted on to have her back. Iain and he had been competing so long that he could never count on his brother. “Iain took my job.” Shite. Why had he blurted that out?
“What job? You have a job.”
“I should be chair of the department. It was the first time in my life that I would actually have beaten him at something. But then, he... I—”
She waited for him to say more, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t reveal anything more because then he’d be forced to explain exactly why he was in Arizona. “Let’s go back to bed.” The pit of his stomach dropped when she wouldn’t look away from him.
“That’s not all of it. What else?”
“What else could there be? Isn’t that enough? It’s an age-old story, right? Younger brother losing out to older brother, resentment, all of that.”
Her wide honey-brown eyes darkened a shade. “You’re lying about something.”
“I told you. We’re competitive. He called to—”
“That’s it. I couldn’t figure out why everything seemed wrong, but why would your highly intelligent brother call you in the middle of the night?”
“He’s bad at maths?”
She shook her head hard enough to make her hair fly. He stepped in to kiss her, to distract her. He was tired and annoyed and he had exactly zero lies at his disposal.
“No. Tell me what he wanted.”
He stopped, put his hands on his hips and went for his best Clint Eastwood squint. “I’ve told you it’s nothing.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, pulling tight the pink tank top. “I’m not moving until you tell me.”
He licked his lips, opened his mouth and closed it, then rearranged his stance to cover his soaring interest in her clearly visible-through-the-fabric nipples.
“Dear Lord,” she said. “You’re turned-on.”
“What did you expect?”
She returned his squint with a glare. “I expect you to act like an intelligent man and answer my questions.”
“It’s late.” Late was right. Too late to turn back and tell her the full truth. Too late for him to get back his reputation with a cache that he lied to find?
“We’re not done.”
“I am, although I’d certainly like to have you again.” He turned away.
“What kind of crap is that? You can’t ignore my questions, then expect to get busy with me. Good night.” She turned in the opposite direction to go to her own bedroom at the back of the house.r />
Fan-freakin’-tastic. His brother had not only called to taunt him about his career but also managed to mess up his very pleasant interlude with his cowgirl pixie. Great. What was next?
“Yee-owl.” Cat was back on his foot, squinting up at him—maybe she’d watched a lot of Eastwood, too—then she opened her mouth again and vomited Hobnobs.
“What the—” he yelled, and instinctively kicked out, striking Cat, who screeched her displeasure before turning to attack his leg.
Chapter Nine
Lavonda heard growls and a deep-throated yell. She paused a moment, ready to turn off the bedroom light. Then she heard Jones shout out with anguish, “Bloody hell.”
She sighed, knowing Cat had done something to the Scotsman. She was the ranch’s caretaker and Jones’s, too. Lavonda made her way back to the kitchen, where Jones glared at Cat, his fists clenched at his side. “What’s the trouble? Did she eat—” Bloody gouges on his legs stopped her. What had the animal done? “I’ll get the first-aid kit.” She hurried to the bathroom for peroxide and bandages. Cat’s scratches could be wicked.
“Sit,” she told Jones, directing him to a chair.
“I need a whiskey. A large one, before you do anything.”
She didn’t argue. He didn’t seem to be in the kind of mood where she could reason with him. Better to get him something to drink, clean the scratches, then send him to bed...alone.
“The scratches aren’t that bad. At least you won’t need a rabies shot. Cat’s vaccinated.” She stared at the cheap glass filled with Jones’s expensive whiskey.
“I don’t want to drink alone.” He poured another glass and pushed it to her.
She reluctantly took the three fingers of whiskey, tapped her glass against his and took a sip. She was enough of a cowgirl to not cough, but, Baby Jesus and His Donkey, it was strong. She got back to playing nurse. “This shouldn’t hurt. I just want to make sure they’re cleaned well.”