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

by Jean Brashear

  “It matters not. What sort of man would I be to see one such as you fall to his ravaging and yet stand by?”

  “But—” She grasped his wrist, desperate to convince him to desist.

  He shook her off easily, his tone implacable. “It is a matter of honor of a higher sort, Lady Helen. I will get you out of this place of wickedness.”

  “You cannot. I will not see you sacrificed.”

  He leveled a look upon her, supremely confident. “Milady, my talents do not extend merely to the making of music.”

  She grasped his arm, reeling at the shock of his touch. “You do not understand. I have seen…”

  Narrowing his gaze, he stroked her cheek gently. “Seen what, beautiful lady?”

  Her gaze slid away. Years of warnings against revealing her curse silenced her tongue, yet she quivered with the need to make him see his danger.

  “Someone comes. I will keep watch for our chance. You must return before you are found out,” he warned, stepping back. Pinning her with one last look, he spoke again. “It matters not what you have seen, Lady Helen. It is what I must do.” He melted away into the shadows.

  Staring after him, Helen’s mind whirled in confusion.

  Josh pulled the blanket over them, holding Elena close as she whimpered in her sleep. Pressing a kiss to her brow, he smoothed the troubled frown with his fingers, stroking her damp eyelashes and pulling her closer. “Elena, sweetheart, wake up. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Her eyes popped open, nearly black with terror. “No—I can’t let you be hurt, Iain.”

  “Who’s Iain?” She’d said that name before.

  Elena blinked, and her expression turned soft and confused. “What did you say?”

  The other man’s name had been spoken with both fear and longing. “I said, who the hell is Iain? You called out his name.”

  “I—I don’t know.” Her gaze slid away to stare over his shoulder. “Did I say anything else?”

  “Something about not letting him get hurt.” He couldn’t believe how jealous he felt.

  “I don’t know an Iain, but…” Her eyes went distant, the body that had curled so trustingly in his arms now tense and troubled. “Your eyes…” she continued. “I keep seeing them in my dreams, and…I have such a sense of danger.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “No. I only recall your eyes and such terrible fear for you.” She pressed herself against him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

  Josh felt her trembling and cast away his envy. Whoever this Iain was, it was Josh who was with her now.

  “Elena, let me help you. Tell me why you’re running,” he urged.

  She buried her face in his neck. “You can’t help me.”

  “How do you know that? I’m not without resources.”

  “He’d kill you,” she blurted out.

  “Who would? That bastard who hurt you?” He pulled back, searching her face. “I’m not afraid of him. I’d like nothing better than to beat the living hell out of him for what he’s done to you.”

  “No! Don’t even say that—you don’t know what he’s like,” she pleaded.

  “You don’t have to go with me. You can stay here, safe with Quinn and Lorie. Just tell me where to find him.”

  “No. You can’t fix it, Josh. It’s up to me,” she said, her eyes suddenly bleak, her voice dropping to a whisper. “And I’m not ready.” She turned away, curling herself into a ball of misery.

  “All right,” he soothed her. “We’ll drop the subject, until you’re ready.” But I don’t have much time left, he thought. And I really want you to be free before I have to leave. Free of all your ghosts.

  Josh drew her close until the shivering subsided. He murmured soft words of reassurance, hoping to ease the pain, though the solution was temporary.

  Whatever was causing her pain and fear, neither were likely to go away until she faced her past and exorcised it.

  He intended to be there when it happened.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Rumor has it,” said Guzman’s lieutenant, “that your wife is no longer under your control.”

  A mole. Richard had a goddamn mole inside his operation. Who the hell was it?

  Heads would roll.

  But aloud, he simply scoffed. “Where would you get an idea like that? She doesn’t say boo unless I let her.”

  “Has she signed the papers yet?”

  Richard thought rapidly. “She is in mourning for her father. The papers are a mere formality. We’ll be ready for the first shipment any day. Will you be ready?” He would turn the tables.

  “You said it would be no problem. Señor Guzman prefers the legalities to be observed.”

  Richard rolled his eyes. The biggest crime lord in the southern hemisphere wanted everything tied up neatly. “It won’t be a problem.”

  “Our arrangements depend upon your ability to move title into the proper identity. Until that umbrella is in place, no shipments will happen. And if we must reroute this one, Señor Guzman will not be interested in trying a second time.”

  He understood, of course, that putting ownership into entities that could not be traced easily was an important building block in staying under the radar. If something happened to Elena, he would inherit all she owned, but that would require time and heightened visibility, going through legal channels.

  Time was the enemy. He had all the transfer documents waiting. As soon as she’d signed over her interest in the property, everything would go smoothly.

  But first he had to find the little bitch.

  “Everything will be ready,” he promised.

  “Señor Guzman will not be pleased if it is not.” The other man disconnected without waiting for his response.

  Richard threw the phone at the wall.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Greg’s internet was down at his place, so he was back at the office late, viewing satellite images of the Navarro land. From what the task force knew at this point, Kruger’s arrangement with Guzman was recent, yet Kruger had married his neighbor’s daughter seven years ago. The kind of neglect he saw hadn’t happened overnight, and Kruger clearly had the wherewithal to help out, which any man would have done for the woman he loved.

  But if he didn’t love her and he hadn’t known Guzman at that point, why had he chosen Elena, the daughter of an impoverished rancher? He would have to ask Carmen more about them.

  But he couldn’t think about Carmen, not and get any work done.

  Damn, that woman was not only stunning but hot. Very inventive—and so far they’d only kissed. Okay, and done some heavy necking.

  It was all he could do not to head right back over there. Well, except for the fact that she’d thrown him out. Smiling like a she-demon.

  Knowing he’d back, first second she’d let him.

  Now he was sitting at his desk, grinning like a fool.

  Not the way to get any work done, or problems solved.

  So…back to the case at hand. What would make a man like Kruger, from all reports wealthy and urbane, live in Nowhere, Arizona in the first place?

  That, at least, was a no-brainer—this place put him only miles from the border, and he had long been involved in less than savory activities.

  So…that being the case, what drew him to Elena Navarro? Especially if he didn’t actually love her? Love could hold a woman just fine—you didn’t have to lock her away from the world. From all accounts, she was once a lively girl, well-liked in town, but during the course of her marriage she had withdrawn from everyone in town. The general consensus was that she now considered herself too good for the place that had made her. She hadn’t been close to her father who, by all accounts, had neglected her shamefully after her mother abandoned them. She had spent more time with Carmen’s family than her own.

  Carmen’s father had been the foreman at the Navarro Ranch, and her mother had been the cook. The two girls had been inseparable growing up.

  But Carmen lef
t for college, never intending to return, she’d told him. Had her father not died a few years back and had she not needed to nurse her mother during her final illness, likely she and Elena would not have reconnected.

  And it was only due to Carmen’s stubbornness that they had at all.

  Carmen said that Elena had spent most of her time during her father’s final days with him, despite his past neglect of her, and that they had repaired their relationship.

  But the second the old man was gone, Elena left his ranch—now her ranch—and never returned, best anyone could tell. The two remaining hands were let go, and the place was abandoned. From the road, it seemed barren and undesirable.

  So Greg was trying to scope it out from the air to find out if there was more to the place than appearances indicated.

  He was so intent upon his laptop that he didn’t hear anyone come in.

  Until the sheriff’s voice drifted to him through a partially-open door.

  And he heard the name Elena.

  Greg rose from his desk and drifted closer.

  “If you won’t let me put out a general alert, you can’t expect much in the way of results,” the sheriff complained.

  A pause while Carlson listened.

  He moved away, pacing. When he spoke again, Greg could only catch a few words.

  But one of them was Guzman.

  Abruptly the sheriff disconnected, then stalked toward his office door. As he walked past the deputies’ squad room, his footsteps slowed.

  But Greg had already cleared his screen and was bent over paperwork, earbuds for his iPod hastily stuffed in his ears.

  “You’re in here late,” observed Carlson.

  Greg kept his head down as if he didn’t hear.

  “Blackwell,” said the sheriff more loudly.

  Greg jerked his head around and demonstrated surprise. He yanked out one earbud. “What?”

  “I said you’re here mighty late.”

  “Yeah.” With a big sigh, Greg raked one hand through his hair. “Paperwork’s not my favorite. Couldn’t sleep, so I thought I might as well bite the bullet and get some done.” He kept his face carefully neutral. “You think anybody likes doing this crap?”

  The man grinned. “Never met a cop who did.”

  “Yep, me either.” Greg stretched and yawned. “Best sleeping pill in the world, though.”

  “Get some sleep. Morning comes early.”

  “That it does. See you, Sheriff.”

  Carlson nodded and ambled off.

  Greg stared at the space he’d left and pondered his next move.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Ride with me,” Josh suggested when at last they couldn’t delay any longer returning to Quinn’s. “We can tie Moonglow to my saddle. I’m not ready to have you so far away yet.”

  Elena thought of the picture she still carried in her head, Lorie clasped in Quinn’s arms on horseback. Why not? The dreamy feel of Josh’s lovemaking still lingered, despite her troubled thoughts upon awakening. She couldn’t entirely banish the disturbing effect of them, but riding in Josh’s arms was too lovely an opportunity to dismiss. Prince Charming didn’t ride up every day and sweep a girl away.

  “Okay.” She smiled and walked over toward his bay. Josh lifted her to the saddle, then mounted behind her. She leaned back, delighting in the feel of his arms around her and the gentle rocking of his horse as they meandered back toward the house.

  Josh nibbled at her neck as he held the reins loosely in one hand, his other arm wrapped securely around her. When she squirmed, nipples tightening, the bay moved restlessly beneath them.

  “Stop it, Josh,” she smiled. “Can’t you see you’re disturbing your horse?”

  He nudged her hair aside and tormented the other side of her neck. “He’s just mad because he doesn’t have his own girl.”

  She giggled, then shivered as his fingers began to play. Her hand tightened upon his thigh.

  “Oh, baby, now you stop it.” Josh’s voice was husky, and she felt the hard ridge of his response at her back. His hand tangled in her hair, baring her nape to his touch as his teeth grazed her skin.

  And she wished they could just go back to the tree.

  Josh groaned. “Why am I doing this to myself? And why did I want to come visit Quinn? He’ll probably expect us to be good company, when all I want to do is take you to bed until we get enough of each other or starve to death first.”

  Elena couldn’t help laughing, her heart suddenly light as air. What it did for her to know that he desired her…warmth pooled between her thighs as her body remembered his touch.

  “Laugh away, sugar,” he warned. “I’ll see that you scream for mercy next time, you cruel woman.” The smile in his voice put the lie to his words. “Now be still and stop wiggling against me. If I know what’s good for me, I’d better present you at Tia’s before any more time has passed, and I’m not going to visit my great-aunt in this condition.”

  Elena smiled, turning to place a quick kiss on his lips. “Lorie said she wouldn’t be upset if we slept in the same room.” Suddenly shy, she dropped her gaze. “But maybe we’d better not—”

  Josh snorted. “I never cared whether Lorie approved or not. If you think I’m spending another night without you, you’re not as smart as I thought. Now quit wiggling, and let’s get the inspection over with. Tia has the eyes of a hawk,” he muttered.

  “Josh, maybe you’d better go by yourself. I can find my way back.”

  He barked a short laugh. “Are you kidding? And leave me to face her alone? Sweet one, you’re who she wants to see. If it’s only me, she’ll just want to lecture me about my wastrel ways.”

  “That’s not fair. You know she loves you.”

  He sighed. “Yes, there’s no question that she does. But that won’t stop her from badgering me about when I’m going to do something worthwhile with my life.”

  His words sounded resigned, but his tone was all fondness.

  Still, Elena was nervous, and he seemed to sense it. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll get used to having her see inside you all the way to your toes.” He grinned. “Or not. But there’s no escape, either way.”

  He was trying to tease her out of her nerves, but the truth was that she longed for the old woman’s wisdom every bit as much as she feared it.

  When they rode up, his great-aunt knelt in her garden, gathering herbs for drying. Without looking up, she called out, “It’s about time you brought her to me, Antonito.”

  Josh grinned at Elena. “What did I tell you? Abandon hope, all ye who enter—there’s no escape.”

  Elena smothered a laugh, his good cheer easing her tension.

  Josh dismounted and reached up for her. Elena came into his arms gladly. Their gazes met and held. He placed a light kiss on her lips, then turned. “Time to face the music,” he muttered.

  “Come here, Joshua Antonio, and cease your muttering. Give your tía a kiss.”

  He winked at Elena. When they reached his great-aunt, he hugged the old woman tightly, lifting her feet off the ground.

  Tía Consuela’s eyes shimmered with moisture. She stroked his head with one caress before she scolded him. “Put me down, mijito, before I am forced to take stern measures.” She cast a smile of piercing sweetness at Elena.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he complied, looking anything but sorry.

  Elena marveled at how the tiny old woman could command this confident, powerful man into obedience—though mischief glowed in his eyes. Elena pitied Lorie suddenly, seeing this glimpse of the mischievous boy he’d been. And Lorie had two of them…

  “Welcome to my home, Elena.”

  The old woman’s gaze was no less discerning than yesterday; she hadn’t imagined its force. Josh was right; it did feel as though she could see to the depths of Elena’s soul.

  Without speaking, Tía Consuela nodded as if satisfied with what she saw. She turned back to her grandson.

  “Still flitting from starlet to starlet, Jo
sh?”

  “Tía, I don’t think this is the—”

  “If you were proud of your life, you would not mind discussing it,” she admonished. “Even in front of your lovely friend.”

  Josh shot Elena an apologetic glance. Though it hurt to hear it, she needed the reminder that his life was not one she could share.

  “Tía, I don’t—” He exhaled in exasperation. “I’m good at what I do, and I’m proud of my work.”

  “I would never dispute that. I’m quite proud of your accomplishments,” she admitted. “What I question is whether you yourself find your career as satisfying now.” She pinned him with a merciless stare. “I think not.”

  She turned back to her gardening. “You feel empty, Joshua Antonio, because you have achieved everything you set out to gain, and you see it for what it is.” She gazed up at him. “The way you are living is not enough for someone of your spirit. There is too much love within you, and that love needs to find its proper home.”

  She flicked the fingers of one hand. “But enough of that, mijito. You will hear me when you are ready and not before. Come and tell me of your next picture and who will be in it with you. Is it true that Jennifer Anniston will be your co-star?” She sank to a bench in her garden, patting the space beside her and drawing Elena down to sit.

  As Elena listened, her heart sank at Josh’s description. Jennifer Anniston…her beauty would match his own.

  Yet Tía’s words lingered. Could it possibly be that Josh’s lifestyle was not completely satisfying to him?

  You wish, Elena. How could it not be? He had everything: money, good looks, fame. And even if his great-aunt’s diagnosis was wrong, the leap from Hollywood to Elena Navarro covered far too great a span.

  “Elena? Hello?”

  She looked up in surprise. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  “I said, Tía has banished me so that she can grill you now.”

  His great-aunt clucked her tongue.

  “Oh, sorry—what I meant to say was that my great-aunt wants me to make myself scarce so that you and she can visit.”