The Marshalls Boxed Set (Texas Heroes: The Marshalls Books 1-3)

by Jean Brashear

  “You’re making this up.” But she was enjoying the tale.

  He slapped a hand against his chest. “You wound me.”

  “All that on top of Cheryl’s rejection…I am so sorry. Really.”

  His smile melted her bones. “You so are not.” Then he pointed at a billboard. “I am starving. Please tell me you’re hungry, too.”

  “I can’t go anywhere looking like this!”

  “Okay, we’ll stop so I can buy you some clothes first. But you’d better make it quick—snap, snap. Because I’m going to start gnawing on the upholstery if I have to wait much longer and—”

  “No.”

  “No?” He cocked one dark eyebrow. “No, what? No breakfast? No clothes?”

  “No,” she said firmly.

  “Break it down into parts for me—I’m an actor.” He tapped his forehead. “All face and great abs but not too much gray matter up here.” His grin was impossible to fight. “Exactly which part made you say no? No, you’re not hungry? I don’t think so. I heard your stomach growling. No, you don’t want any clothes because you love mine so much? Well, hey, I’m flattered. No, you don’t…? Fill in the blank.”

  She stopped him with a palm out, unable to stop the silly grin he’d provoked.

  “I’m waiting.” He leaned back, the soul of patience.

  “No, you’re not buying me anything. Not breakfast, not clothes, not…fill in the blank.”

  “Elena, do you have any idea how much money I make?”

  She shook her head. “And I don’t care. No man is ever going to own me again.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Who tried to own you?”

  No. Not going there. She should have kept her mouth shut. If her loose lips helped Richard find her now, all of this would have been for naught.

  But she couldn’t help hearing the echoes. You stupid, fat cow. You’re not smart enough. You’re not woman enough…

  She shook her head.

  “Don’t be an idiot—”

  When she flinched, he swore. “I’m sorry. You are not an idiot. You’re actually damn brave, I just—”

  But memory ate at her. She stared straight ahead, stomach churning.

  “Elena, I didn’t mean it. I just—” Josh slammed his fist on the steering wheel. “You frustrate the hell out of me.”

  She shifted as far away from him as the car’s inside would allow.

  Josh pulled off the road and vaulted from the car.

  Elena could barely see for the film of tears. Then she got angry at herself for cowering. She hated what she’d let herself become.

  I wasn’t always so afraid. I used to terrify my father with my fearlessness, in fact. She found her purse in the back seat and opened the car door. She didn’t look back toward Josh as she began walking in the opposite direction, lost in wretchedness.

  Suddenly he appeared in front of her.

  She retreated. “Just let me go. You’re right. I am an idiot. I’ve made a mess of my life, and I don’t like myself much any more. I appreciate all you’ve done, but there’s no reason for you to worry yourself with me any longer. Just go on.”

  “Holy hell, Elena, who did this to you?”

  She went even more rigid. “You have no idea what my life is like.” Shame mingled with a fury of her own. She’d endured years of hell to protect her father from Rich, and in the process she’d become someone she didn’t even know anymore.

  “No, but I’d like to.” His eyes went sharp with determination. “And I would sure as hell like to know the name of the bastard you’re running from—I know, I know. You don’t want to talk about it.” His eyes narrowed. “I’ll respect that—for now. But come hell or high water, I’m going to teach you that you can trust me.” He struggled a moment, then exhaled sharply. “I want a promise from you, though.”

  She tensed. “I don’t know if I can give any.”

  “Then let me put it this way. I don’t want to own you, Elena. I want to help you. And I would very much appreciate it if you’d stop trying to run away until we can figure out a plan for you. Is that too much to ask?”

  Her eyes burned. “I want to pay my own way, Josh. It’s important.”

  “I can tell that it is, and I respect that. Let’s go eat some breakfast, and we’ll figure out what’s fair.” He ducked his head down to make them eye to eye. “Deal?”

  She straightened her shoulders. Pushed away at shame and anger and misery, wondering what there was left of Elena anymore.

  But he was right. They were both tired. They needed to eat. Maybe then she could think more clearly.

  “Deal.”

  Crowded with a mixture of truck drivers and locals, the diner in Deming had only one booth empty, which Josh quickly seized. He glanced around at the faces, a mixture of just plain folks, the rock-solid kind of people he’d grown up with. Not one of the Beautiful People in sight.

  Josh exhaled in relief.

  Elena looked up at the sound. He enjoyed the sight of her, face clean of makeup, simply honest skin and no pretenses. He wondered how she could not know how beautiful she was.

  Right now she was convinced of the opposite. It had been impossible to get her to come inside dressed in his sweats. There weren’t any clothing stores open at this hour, and her clothes were still not dry. They’d compromised; he’d given her one of his T-shirts, which was still much too large, but she’d insisted on donning her damp jeans. She was wearing one of his flannel shirts on top.

  Thin as she was and swaddled in his clothes, she could pass for a teenager, but her eyes were much too old. She touched him in ways his heart hadn’t been moved in a long time. Josh frowned, realizing that this underfed, bedraggled woman had engaged his interest as no one else had for years. Engaged more than his libido, for a change.

  But he had no idea what to do with her.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  Hoping she wasn’t reading his mind, he smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was just thinking how nice it is to be in a room full of people where no one has had plastic surgery or is angling for a part.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure.” She nodded toward someone behind him. “That woman over there looks like she might be a candidate.” A spurt of mischief danced in her eyes.

  He liked it. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “Afraid not.”

  Josh glanced back over his shoulder to see a heavily-made-up woman with impossibly high breasts whose gaze bored into them. He swerved back to face Elena, pulling the menu up in front of him. “Oh, crap,” he groaned. “Kill me now. I just want some breakfast.”

  Right then their waitress arrived. “Coffee?” At their nods, she began filling their cups. “Do you know what you want?”

  “Ma’am?” Elena queried.

  “Yes, honey?”

  “My friend here could use your help.”

  Josh wrinkled his forehead but didn’t speak.

  The waitress glanced at him. Josh winked amiably, and her cheeks went pink.

  “He’s always having trouble with people thinking he’s Josh Marshall—you know, the movie star?”

  “Honey, everyone knows who Josh Marshall is. At least, every woman alive on the planet. If that man can’t heat you up—girl, you’re dead.”

  “Yes,” Elena said, looking at Josh, her mouth curving. “He is very handsome, isn’t he?”

  “Girlfriend, you ain’t just whistlin’ Dixie.” She studied Josh. “Yeah, I guess he could look something like Josh, now that you mention it.”

  Josh hid the grin that threatened as Elena’s widened. “Well, it can come in handy—I mean, he once won a Josh Marshall look-alike contest. Won a hundred dollars, and all the beer he could drink that night.”

  “No kidding!” The waitress looked at him again. She turned back to Elena. “So what’s the problem?”

  “There’s a woman back over there who looks like she’s heading over here to ask for his autograph, and my friend here would hate to have to embarrass her by tel
ling the truth. Do you think you could spare her the scene by cluing her in that he’s an impostor?”

  Josh wanted to laugh out loud. Brilliant. As the waitress turned back toward him, he adopted a mournful shake of the head. “Yeah, I just hate disappointing people. I’d really appreciate it if you could help that lady out.”

  “Well, sure, I could do that. That’s nice of you to think about her. She’s just been through her fourth divorce and hasn’t quite recovered. She’ll appreciate your concern.” She took their orders and left.

  Josh tipped his cap to Elena. “Smart move. Wish I’d thought of it. Thanks.”

  Mischief vanished. She ducked her head as if praise were unfamiliar to her. He reached across the table to grasp her hand. She resisted but when he wouldn’t let go, at last relaxed.

  “Hey…look at me,” he said softly. “I mean it. That was very clever of you, and I appreciate it.” He sighed. “I’m really happy to have so many fans. I try hard not to ever disappoint them,” he said. “But sometimes…it gets to be a bit much.”

  She looked up, so vulnerable and sweet. “I’m glad I could help.” For a long moment, their gazes lingered. Josh thought he could easily drown in those chocolate brown eyes. He liked them this way, soft and warm.

  He realized he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. There was too much he didn’t know about her, too much he wanted to do for her. He had three weeks before he had to show up on the set. To hell with whether this made sense or not. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t bored and restless.

  Inspiration struck him. “Have you ever been to the Gila Cliff Dwellings?”

  She looked startled, then furtive. “Why?”

  “I noticed a sign a ways back for them, and I’ve never been there. Would you go with me after we finish?”

  “Why?” she repeated, eyes growing wary.

  “Why not?”

  Elena dropped her gaze and sipped her coffee, hands wrapped around the mug so tightly her knuckles were white.

  “Hey, I’m sorry. It’s none of my business,” Josh responded, knowing that wasn’t true. He was making it his business, come hell or high water. Something very wrong had happened to her, and he was determined to find out what. She’d had a narrow escape on the road, but he didn’t think that was the problem that troubled her so.

  “If you don’t want to, say so, and I’ll respect that. I just thought it would be interesting.”

  Elena debated with herself. The longer she was away from Mesa Roja, the more she longed to just keep going. Put all of it behind her. Richard would kill her if he caught her, and no one would stop him. He had the law in his pocket back there, so until she could figure out how to find someone in the law enforcement community she could trust with what she knew, she had no destination. No timetable.

  Josh was certainly good company. She even thought she was safe in trusting him—as much as she trusted anyone, at least.

  She was free, she guessed, but she didn’t know how to trust that yet. Her boundaries had been so narrow for such a long time. She was out of practice at making her own decisions.

  A subtle sense of shame dug at her. She was a grown woman, for heaven’s sake. Why shouldn’t she go to the Cliff Dwellings if she wanted to?

  And she did. It was a way to stay with Josh—the only person who’d made her feel safe in more years than she could remember—for a little while longer. She lifted her chin. Defied her fears. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

  His smile rewarded her. He sat back in the booth and spread his arms along the back of the seat. “Good.”

  “Here you go, folks.” The waitress walked up with their order.

  Elena realized for the first time just how starved she was. Her breakfast taco didn’t look as filling as she’d hoped. No matter—she had to conserve her funds. If only she could have planned for her escape, but for too long she’d been a virtual prisoner. Her resources were scarce.

  She glanced across the table, marveling at how much food Josh had ordered, then quickly forgot about it as she tackled her own with gusto.

  They ate silently for a few moments, then Josh leaned back in his seat and patted his flat belly. “Man, that’s more food than I realized it would be. Don’t supposed you’d be willing to help me finish any of this?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. Was this charity?

  “No big. Your call. I just hate to waste food. I might have plenty now, but I remember too well eating lots of beans and rice as a starving young actor. Those and popcorn kept me alive.” He grinned disarmingly.

  He was so down to earth, not at all the spoiled star she would have expected.

  And she was very hungry. “Are you sure you’re done?”

  “Yep. And I swear I don’t have any cooties.” He leaned forward, feeding her a strip of bacon from his hand.

  She took a bite, then chewed and swallowed. He fed her another, the act so intimate. When she took the last bite, her tongue accidentally stroked across the pad of his thumb. His eyes went dark, and he brushed his thumb over her lower lip.

  Everything inside her sizzled.

  Desire. She’d read about it, dreamed about it, at least back before her world had become a nightmare.

  But she’d never experienced it. Mesmerized, she waited.

  Adrift on an island alone in the midst of the crowded room, Josh reached for another piece and fed it to her as he would feed a wild bird…carefully, slowly wooing her to his touch.

  She reminded him of a filly he’d once helped Quinn nurse back to health. Abused by a previous owner, the filly was half-wild and completely distrustful. She’d trembled at the slightest touch. To overcome that had required enormous patience and very slow movement, one careful step at a time. The filly had bolted at the slightest noise and didn’t like to be crowded. The smell of humans made her roll her eyes and shy away.

  But slowly…ever so slowly, she’d responded. Small, light touches had progressed to longer strokes, until the day came when Josh could stand in the stall with her and she barely moved, though her breath still came heavy. He’d stayed with her through an entire night until the next morning, she’d allowed him to climb on her back.

  That filly had recovered her faith in man. By God, Elena would, too, Josh vowed. Step by step, he’d be very careful. He wouldn’t push her more than she could bear, but he would show her that not all men were brutes.

  For he was absolutely sure now that a man had done this to her. Some bastard had taken this lovely creature and torn her spirit. He’d terrified her and probably abused her.

  He would pay.

  Josh would see to it personally.

  With pleasure.

  Chapter Four

  “Tell me you’ve found her.” Richard Kruger paced inside the barn lit by the glow of the welder’s torch.

  “Not yet, Señor Kruger.” Guillermo “Matty” Martinez turned an anxious eye toward his employer. “The boys have searched her land and yours and found no sign of her. She’s vanished.”

  Her land. Richard clenched a fist. It should already have been his. “Who failed his watch? You know the rules: she is to be accompanied at all times unless she is with me, but even then you are to remain close.” She would have signed those papers soon, and he’d have been done with her. Instead she had jeopardized some very delicate negotiations, just when he was so close to success he could nearly taste it.

  His hands itched to take a strap to her. No one made a fool of Richard Kruger.

  Especially not someone he’d brought out of the gutter like Elena.

  She could have had everything if he’d been able to trust her, but she’d put paid to that the first time he’d seen the men’s eyes follow her as she streaked across the pasture on that palomino she loved.

  Loved that damn horse better than him.

  Never trust a woman. They were called the weaker vessel for a reason. They were only good until you forgot to watch them.

  She’d been a lot easier to manage after he’d shot the
goddamn palomino before her eyes. She’d remembered that she belonged to him. That she’d had no one to turn to but him, no way to leave him.

  And when her old man died, she’d held the key to all his plans. All she’d had to do was sign paperwork making the Navarro land community property. What did she want with it anyway? She knew nothing about land, about business.

  She couldn’t even provide him with a son.

  Yet somehow one puny woman had slipped through his fingers.

  Cut him, goddammit. Cut. Him. With his own letter opener. When he’d caught her trying to rifle through his desk. Startled him so much that he’d lost his balance and fallen.

  He rubbed the place near his temple that was still bruised.

  By the time he’d come to, she was gone. What the hell had she been looking for? She knew nothing—less than nothing—about his plans, his vision for turning piss-poor dirt into gold.

  And all of it depended on that site so uniquely capable of providing both landing strip and hidden storage in the box canyon on the southwest corner of Navarro land. Without that piece, Guzman would never sign on, and the perfect base for an expanded trafficking operation would be dead on arrival.

  He’d been so close. His fingers flexed. When he got her back…

  But timing was everything. He’d spent countless hours setting up smokescreens for his true purpose, made everything ready for his staging ground.

  And now, when he needed the last pieces to fall into place, one miserable excuse for a woman stood in his way.

  And she could bring it all down around his ears.

  Killing her would have been so much more efficient, but he couldn’t afford one flicker of suspicion. When he found her, though…

  Whirling, he bore down upon the welder. “How much longer? We’ve got a load coming in two hours.”