by Angi Morgan
“Right now, Cord, you’re the only one she trusts. Just get her to the airport tomorrow. They’re telling us there will only be a short window between these merging storm fronts. We’ll call as soon as we’re allowed to lift off.”
“That’s not what I have planned, sir.”
Silence.
Cord looked at the phone to make sure they hadn’t been disconnected. “I don’t believe it’s safe to wait.”
“I see. You think he’s coming after you?”
“The less details I share with you, sir, the less danger your family’s in.” It wasn’t that Cord didn’t trust Kate’s father. He just didn’t know how thoroughly Serna’s men had infiltrated the local area.
“You’ll notify me?”
“Yes, sir.” Cord had a few other things to say to convince David he was right. He hadn’t planned on one hundred percent cooperation. Made for a shorter call.
“I’ll tell your parents you’re both all right and that you’ll call when you can.”
What an ungrateful son. He hadn’t even thought about calling his parents to let them know he or Kate were okay. The Rangers had probably contacted his dad as soon as Serna was freed.
“Thank you for that.” He paused. “And for your trust.”
“Goes without sayin’.”
The old man had thrown him off his rehearsed dialogue. He would never have thought David would openly support his decisions. “Wish there were more time to bring you up to speed, but—”
“Yeah, Kate told me a bit about the cabin and confrontation this morning.”
“She didn’t hesitate.”
“That’s what’s bothering her, son.”
“Sir? I...” Cord knew he needed to say the words. There was a chance he’d never see David Danver again. He owed him an apology. The shrink had stressed that ignoring everyone in his life for the past three years had hurt them. He knew that without the shrink’s constant discussion. “I wanted to tell you—”
“This isn’t the time for regrets, son. I would have kicked your ass a couple of times already if Kathleen hadn’t stopped me. Take care of my little girl.”
This time there was a distinct click as David Sr. hung up. Cord dialed his parents’ house phone. They should hear from him directly. His mom was probably worried sick. The call went straight to voice mail.
“Hey, Mom. Just wanted you to know we’re okay and I’ll be keeping Kate safe for a while. I’ll call as soon as I can. Just borrowed this phone so there’s no reason to call back.”
He had a few more phone calls to make. He stuck the phone in the bag still hanging on his shoulder. Man, he was tired and starving and filthy.
Time to face Burke’s mom and crew, get cleaned up and maybe—just maybe—give his aching back a rest. Their host was right about one thing. The storm moving in would complicate everything he had planned.
* * *
NICK’S MOTHER WAS a sight for very tired eyes. Juliet waved her inside through the back door.
“Oh, my dear, don’t take this the wrong way, but you look awful.” She pulled out a kitchen chair and gestured for Kate to sit.
“I probably do look a wreck.” She removed the scarf and work coat and collapsed on the seat cushion.
“You sit down here at the table.” Juliet tied her apron and paused. “Want coffee or hot chocolate?”
“Your famous chocolate, please.”
“My grandmother said everything could be fixed with a good cup of cocoa and, after living so many years in this desolate backcountry, I tend to agree with her. Of course, I make Alan a cup every afternoon.” She removed milk from the fridge and turned to the stove. “Not instant, mind you. I hate instant. Don’t you? Well, even if you preferred it, I’d have to make it on the stove because I don’t have any. Instant, that is. I don’t like it so I don’t buy it.”
“How is Mr. Burke?”
“Staying busy. A rancher’s work is never done. He rests a lot, though. Takes things slower.” Juliet wiped the corner of her eye with the back of her hand as she gathered more chocolate ingredients.
Tears? So maybe the rumor she’d heard about his remission was true and he wasn’t doing well at all. How terrible for Juliet and Nick.
Hearing Juliet’s voice reminded her how much she missed her father being around the house. This was exactly how he talked when he made his enchiladas. The one dish he excelled at and had perfected. He explained everything he did, each and every time.
Then it was her turn to cook and he’d chatted instructions nonstop until the pan was in the oven and the cheese bubbled to perfection. She’d asked him why when she was about seventeen. Being a smart-assed teenager, she’d patiently explained to him that she’d heard the recitation once a month her entire life and could repeat it by heart.
Of course, the next batch was the most horrible enchiladas they’d ever eaten because she’d had to prepare them on her own. After that, they cooked enchiladas together with her father talking her through every family secret along the way.
“Kate?” Cord was seated at the table with her. He nodded toward Juliet.
“Hmm?” She’d been so lost in thought, or so dang tired, she hadn’t heard him come in the door.
“Toast or biscuits?” Juliet asked, looking concerned. “Are you too tired to eat, dear?”
“Oh, sorry. No, I’m starving. Food first, please.”
“Toast, Mrs. Burke.”
“Then I’ll have to make biscuits for dinner. Now that I put the thought of them in my head it’s the only way to get them out.”
“I’m going to check in with Mac’s men. Find out if they saw anything.” Cord stood, scooting the chair across the wooden floor that was older than everyone in the room added together.
“You go right ahead, dear. I’ll have everything ready to throw in the pan when you get back. I’m just going to fry up some venison sausage.”
The uniform pants didn’t fit him as snugly as they had three years ago. He’d lost weight and gained a lot of muscle even over the past five months. It had felt really good on that couch, backed against his chest. Having his warm breath caress the back of her neck had caused some additional tingling that had kept her awake long past him falling asleep.
Before the shooting, his occasional light snores would wake her and she would shake him to tell him to go back asleep. Last night, she couldn’t close her eyes until he was relaxed and breathing deeply.
Kate didn’t want to be rude, but watching her ex-husband walk to the bunkhouse comforted her and she really couldn’t concentrate too much on what Juliet was saying. She listened to the stories, remembering how many times she’d sat at this same table.
“Do you remember the first time we met, dear?”
“Yes, ma’am. Mom brought me over after you bought the place from Mac. She was the self-appointed, one-woman welcoming committee to Valentine.”
“That’s right. She brought us her homemade bread. I was so impressed she showed me how to make it on the spot. Said she got tired of running to the store when your brother used all the bread to feed the baby chicks. Did she ever break him of that?”
“Not until he stopped feeding the chickens as one of his chores.” She laughed at the memory. “Angering mom to get out of the chore may have been the only reason he used the bread. Davy still hates feeding chickens.”
She wiped her hands on her ruffled apron and held them out to Kate. A serious look consumed her normally cheery face.
Kate held on to Juliet’s strong embrace. “I miss her.”
“I do, too. I only bring it up because I want you to know if you need anything or need to talk to anyone, I’m here.” Juliet looked directly at her stomach. “When I was pregnant with Nick...well, I missed my mother more at that time than I normally did.”
“So you know about the baby?” Kate hadn’t removed her jacket, uncertain if she wanted to share her news with anyone. She shrugged out of the work coat and let Juliet hang it on the back door hook. But it was time
to stop avoiding what people would say. Maybe it was because Cord knew now.
“David told me. I hope you don’t mind.” She set the toast and homemade jam on the table.
“Not really. It’s not like it’s a secret. Everyone will know soon enough.” She caressed the swell that would soon make her barrel-size.
“I may have complained when we moved here about this being a desolate country, but it’s become my home. All of our friends have become family. So if I can help, I want to be there for you. And for your mom.”
Kate was touched. She’d been so isolated on the ranch. She hadn’t really spoken much with her father since he’d gone to her brother’s. She hadn’t wanted to bother him with ranch details. And she especially hadn’t wanted to hear the worry in his voice.
“I know this is butting in, but you don’t have anyone to push their nose in your business.” She smiled. “You should tell that man how you really feel.”
“Cord? He knows.”
“He doesn’t. He’s all confused and worried. It’s as plain as the whiskers on his face.”
“I’m not the one who has him turning in circles. It’s Serna and not knowing. That’s why he’s so worried.”
Juliet released her hand and picked up the corner of her apron to move the hot pan back to the burner. She began turning the bacon. “You can trust me on this Kathleen Danver McCrea, that man does not think you love him.”
“But...I don’t.” I can’t.
“I had my hope of you falling in love with Nick and I think for a little while, so did he. But those days have long passed. I never thought twice about it after Cord came into your life. You look at him, well, just like your daddy looked at your mama.”
Chapter Eight
They were stuck at Nick’s overnight but Kate wanted to be on her way. It was hard to sit still. Hard to relax when Serna and his men were out there waiting. The unknown had never appealed to her. She liked family. Loved working the ranch. And had discovered she loved running it even more.
One of the many reasons she’d refused to run away before Serna had been released. She couldn’t run—with the exception of away from Cord. But that was different.
She wrapped herself in a towel reluctantly, leaving her extended soak. Clothes presented a problem, but Nick’s mom had loaned her some pajamas and all Kate really wanted was to slide into the comfy queen-size bed, curl up and sleep until the thunderstorm was over. Then it would be safe to drive without the threat of falling rocks or flash floods.
She pulled the drawstring tight on the bottoms and heard a soft knock on her door that was already swinging open. Cord leaned in the doorway holding a blanket and pillow. Hat pushed back on his head, still dressed in his uniform, he hadn’t cleaned up a bit since they’d arrived at Nick’s ranch.
“What have you been doing?”
“Hate to ask this, Kate. I know you’re tired. Can you let me use your shower for a couple of minutes?” Her ex-husband was already unbuttoning his shirt, assuming she’d say yes.
“And what was wrong with the main bath Mrs. Burke told you to use?”
“Didn’t have time.”
“Too many secret phone calls trying to get us out of here sooner?” She crossed her arms over her braless breasts that he kept glancing down at. “What’s wrong with the hall shower?”
“Actually, I was sitting outside your door, waiting. Probably nothing wrong with that shower. Better if I’m here.”
Had he become a delusional paranoid? “Really? You think someone’s going to attack me in the guest bedroom?”
He shrugged his shoulders free of the drab beige color and tossed it on the back of the chair.
“Just stay awake five minutes. Then I’ll take care of watching over things.” His hands went to his belt buckle.
“Don’t you do that, Cordell.” She waved her hands. His eyes dropped to her breasts again. “Oh, go on. But hurry.”
Cord laughed at her embarrassment heading to the bathroom. She hadn’t heard him laugh in so long, turning a bright red was worth it. She checked the mirror just to verify that, yes, she had changed to a sunburned palomino as Cord had nicknamed her.
The shower spray came on. She grabbed a throw blanket to cover her shoulders and shut the bathroom door. Just like old times.
“Ouch.” She shook her thumb where the dried cactus had lodged. It was irritating more than painful, something that had happened more than once in her youth. She could see the thorn just under the skin and she needed a needle or tweezers. Each time her thumb scraped something it brought her back to pulling the trigger....
She wanted the reminder gone.
Creeping like a thief, she opened the bath door. Cord had his back to her, and she could see the white suds from the soap still clinging to the gorgeous muscles. She didn’t blame them for wanting to try. Ignoring the body on the other side of the curtain, she slowly pulled open the medicine cabinet. No luck. Then the drawer. Yea, pin cushion.
“You don’t have to be so quiet. You aren’t disturbing me.” The water shut off. Cord shook his head and drew the curtain to one side. He pointed past her. “Want to hand me that towel? Or I could stand here and let you have a longer look-see.”
“You...that was fast.”
“Towel?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry.”
Her ex-husband reached around her to grab the matching towel to the one wrapped around her hair.
What was wrong with her? She’d seen a naked Cord many, many times. Her nipples tightened as did many other places in her body. “I, um, needed a needle.”
Wow, thank goodness he wrapped the lower half of his body. That just left the desire to sleuth off those beads of water from his shoulders and chest. If she didn’t watch it, she’d be breathing hard soon. She was just tired. They both were.
“You done with this?” He tugged the towel from her hair and hung it around his neck, using the ends to absorb some of the drops. “What happened? Want me to take a look?”
Without waiting for permission, he brought her thumb closer to his sharp brown eyes. He didn’t release her hand when she tugged.
“I can do it.”
“I’m sure you can, but it would be easier and quicker if I helped. Then you could hit the hay faster.” He took the needle from the cushion. “This is in there sort of deep. When did you get it?”
She didn’t want to say it aloud. She’d killed a man.
“Humph.”
He could tell. He’d always been able to read her, especially when something was wrong. If only he could talk through a problem as well as he could spot one.
“Ouch!” She jerked her thumb away from where he’d stabbed it.
“Don’t be a baby. You know this is how you get a thorn free.”
“It hurts.”
“Of course it hurts. You have a piece of cactus stuck in your thumb.” He swiped his hands on the towel hanging around his neck and adjusted it to cover most of the skin.
The sweet strawberry-patterned towel blocked her from seeing most of the muscles he’d developed in the five months they’d been apart. “You mashing and prodding won’t help.”
“Let me see it.” He drew her hand closer to his eyes again. But he didn’t look; he had them closed. He wrapped his lips around her thumb and sucked.
Oh, wow.
“Cord McCrea, stop that. What do you think you’re doing?”
“Just softening up the skin so it won’t hurt as much.”
“It’s plenty soft.”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Cord, I’m—we can’t—”
“I’m not.” He teasingly smiled at her.
“Yes, you are.” She jerked her hand to behind her back, protecting more than just her thumb from him. She didn’t need much of an imagination to know what was going on under that towel at his hips. She’d experienced it and her muscle memory was playing havoc with her restraint. Her body was desperately ready to see if she remembered anything about sex.
He rolled the needle between his fingers and held out his left palm. “I promise to behave. Now give me your thumb.”
Reluctantly, she placed her thumb in his care again. But she didn’t know if she was reluctant because he might break his promise or that he might keep it.
Chapter Nine
“They’re here.”
With all the hands called in for the search and now back at the ranch, it was difficult to find a place to make a very private phone call.
“What do you mean? Where’s ‘here’?” Serna’s voice showed his frustration.
“At the ranch. They’re cleaning up.”
Together. Same bedroom. Good. Serna’s punishment will mean more if they’re together. Divorced or not.
“How long? Did they say where they’ve been? My men haven’t checked in from this morning.”
Hadn’t the man learned anything? McCrea was good. Too good. That’s why he had to be taken out before he was reinstalled to the task force. Something that would have already been taken care of if it weren’t for Serna’s personal vendetta. The man should have been killed while he couldn’t walk and defend himself.
“Knowing McCrea, you should send more men to the cabin. The others are probably dead.” He pulled the phone away from his ear until the string of curses ceased, then continued, “We need that chopper. And he hasn’t said anything about their activities.”
“I want them dead.”
“I know what you want and that’s your problem. I’ve kept my end of the bargain for over four years. I’m taking a big risk calling you with so many people around.”
“Your end will come much sooner if you don’t deliver them to me.”
He bit his tongue instead of explaining why it was useless to threaten him. Serna would be gone along with everyone else.
“The storm’s going to delay everything in the operation. You have time to get the chopper and get the McCreas before they leave.”
He disconnected the line. The storm actually made his part to take down Serna, frame the Danvers and succeed much easier. Of course he’d deliver the McCreas. They’d ridden their horses right where he’d hoped.
