by Amanda Boone
“Yeah.” He helped her down from the bales, and then held her close again. “I’m sorry.”
“For saving my life? Again?” She kissed him, the tears on her cheeks wetting his.
#
The next night the Boone brothers gathered around the family table to listen as Liam explained what had happened.
“So this Jason Sanders thought he was The Reaper?” Caleb asked, looking confused. “Well, then why would he come out here to do the dig?”
“He thought he was the reincarnation of his great-grandfather,” Jonah said. “Like when he died he was reborn in Jason’s body or whatever.”
“He was only a boy when he found The Reaper’s journals and read about all the women he murdered,” Ethan said. “I think it must have twisted his mind.”
“That’s messed up,” Caleb said. “They figure out how many people he killed yet?”
“Just the one poor girl Cat and I found out at the camp so far,” Liam admitted. “He abducted her on the way out here. But the police in Barstow are checking to be sure he didn’t hurt anyone out there. If he ever wakes up, maybe he’ll confess.”
“Or maybe he’ll do the world a favor and stay in that coma,” Ethan said grimly.
“Is that coffee I smell?” A tall, silver-haired man with keen blue eyes appeared in the doorway.
“Frank.” Liam smiled as he got up to shake his former CO’s hand. “Good to see you.”
The general pulled him in for a quick hug. “I owe you for life, son. Anything you need,” he murmured before he stepped back and smiled. “Well, this is a bit of a nightmare. Seven versions of Liam in one room.”
“And the next generation on the way,” Becca, Chris’s wife, said as she patted her swollen belly.
Buck, the old ranch cook, brought a fresh pot of coffee to the table. “Sit down, General. We got plenty of Joe, and some chocolate cake to go with it.”
“I will take you up on that, Buck.” Frank sat beside Ethan. “Liam, would you mind rousting my daughter out of the car? I think she’s still on the phone with those archaeology magazine folks.”
“Yes, sir.” Although Liam had been dodging Cat since the day at the barn, he knew he had to face her sometime.
Outside in the drive, Cat stood beside her father’s rental, a suitcase sitting by her feet.
“Hey.” Liam glanced down. “Packed your bag already, huh?”
“Yes, I did.” She walked right up to him. “Why have you been avoiding me?”
Liam could think of a thousand excuses, but decided the truth was best. “Because I’m a killer, Catriona.”
She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“I was a sniper in the Army. By the time I left I had more kills than any other marksman in my division.” He nodded in the general direction of the Sanders place. “That’s how I was able to make those shots at the barn.”
“So you could have killed Jason,” Cat said slowly, and when he nodded she peered up at him. “Then why didn’t you?”
“I would have, to save you,” he said. “But I saw another way, and I took it. I did the same thing when I left the Army.”
“Dad said you were keeping one more thing from me,” she said slowly. “I thought it might be a girlfriend, or kids, or something like that.”
He shrugged. “Now you know.”
“Okay.” She picked up her suitcase and started toward the house. “Where’s your room?”
Liam caught her arm before she went inside. “Upstairs, why?”
“Well, I assume you still want to sleep with me.” She smiled. “I’m a lot of fun in bed, remember?”
A cautious spark of hope leapt in his heart. “You don’t care that I was a sniper? A killer?”
“You were a soldier, Liam – and just so you know, my dad didn’t start out in the Army working on tanks.” She leaned close to whisper, “He was a sniper, too.”
Liam sighed. “So I’m not the only one who had a secret.”
“The good news is, I’m not a sniper.” She gave him a sweet smile. “Now will you show me where I’ll be doing terribly wicked things to you at night?”
The spark flared into a flame. “For how long?”
“Tough to say exactly.” She thought for a minute. “After the police finish processing the murder scene, we can start digging again almost right away. We’ve gotten new funding from the state, so we can take our time there and at the old barn, which is now our secondary site.” She counted some things on her fingers. “Three years. Maybe four. Probably four. Unless you marry me. Then, forever.”
“Well, your dad was a sniper, so I don’t want to tempt him into having any kind of shotgun wedding.” He pulled her into his arms. “Maybe we should plan on forever.”
She kissed him. “That sounds perfect.”
THE END
Cherished by the Cowboy
Love in Ghost Lake Ranch
Book 6
(Can be read as a standalone book)
By: Amber Duval
Cherished by the Cowboy
Chapter One
“Tell me there isn’t a stripper,” Ethan Boone muttered from the side of his mouth as he grinned at the mass of cheering friends and cowboys crowding the roadhouse.
“Caleb planned this bachelor party,” Robert Boone told his oldest brother as he clapped him on the shoulder. “Expect a whole army of strippers.”
“All right, old man,” Chris Boone said, his giant frame looming over Ethan. “Let’s get you crowned.”
Rob grinned as family and friends swept his laughing brother off to a throne-like chair. The men then hoisted Ethan and the chair up and carried him to the center of the dance floor. Behind a curtain of chicken wire, a local garage band played a funeral dirge. Rob’s youngest brother, Caleb, switched Ethan’s Stetson for a gold paper crown covered with glittering square foil packets.
“Aw, that’s so pretty with the jewels,” Margie, the bartender said as she offered Rob a dark bottle of beer. “Why are you snickering like that, boy?”
“Those aren’t jewels, ma’am,” he told her as he took a drink. “They’re more like, uh, jewel covers.”
She peered and then released a belly laugh. “Well, at least your brother will have all he needs for the honeymoon.”
Rob nodded as he leaned against the bar and surveyed the interior of the roadhouse. All of his brothers and every one of their friends had come, which made him feel satisfied. When their parents had died, Ethan had given up most of his dreams to come home. He’d worked tirelessly to take care of his six brothers and help them run Ghost Lake Ranch, the family cattle spread. Seeing him finally have something just for himself – namely, his lovely fiancée Jessa Cooper – made Rob happy for him.
It would never happen for him, of course. When it came to girlfriends and love, Rob considered it a public service to run away from both as fast as he could.
When Caleb came over to order some beers Margie leaned her elbows against the bar. “I know you’re too much of a tom cat to settle down, Cal. But when will we be hosting your last night as a free man, Robbie?”
Rob nearly choked on his beer, and spent the next minute clearing his throat.
“Rob’s never getting married,” Caleb told her. “We’ll be lucky if we can find him a date for the wedding.”
Rob glared at him. “I told you, no dates. None, zip, zero.”
“Why not?” Margie asked as she lined up four more bottles on the bar. “You’re just as big and handsome as your brothers.”
“Sure, but he’s the only one who’s cursed.” Caleb expertly dodged Rob’s half-hearted swat. “Go on, bro. Tell her.” He grabbed the four bottles and hurried off.
Rob sighed. “I’m not cursed,” he assured Margie. “I just have bad luck with dating women.”
The hard-faced rancher sitting on the stool next to him snorted. “Boy, we all do.”
He took a long drink of his beer. “Not like mine.”
“Well, come on,” Margie urged. �
�I want hear all about it.”
Rob hunched his shoulders. “My first date in high school was with Miranda Logan. We went horseback riding, or tried to. When she rode out of the barn, a garden snake spooked her horse. She fell off and broke her leg.”
Margie waved her hand. “Oh, sweetheart, that couldn’t be your fault.”
“That’s what I thought.” Rob turned to the rancher. “My second date was with Sally Makepeace. We met at the movie theater in town.”
The older man frowned. “There’s no movie theater in town.”
Rob nodded. “That’s because it caught fire the night we went there, just as the movie started. The equipment overheated or something. Anyway, everyone got out all right, but the building burned to the ground in less than twenty minutes.”
“Coincidence,” Margie said, although she didn’t sound quite as sure this time. “You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Rob sighed. “On my third date, also with Sally, we went to the bowling alley with her folks. I thought with them there nothing could happen. And then her dad’s bowling ball slipped off his fingers and hit Sally in the face. Broke her nose and knocked out her front teeth.”
The rancher grimaced. “Damn.”
“I stopped dating for a while after that, and waited all the way until Prom before I asked out Ruby Stephens.” He smiled as the bartender gaped at him. “Thought you might recognize her name. She was in all the papers.”
To the rancher Margie said, “She’s the girl that had a baby at Prom, in the restroom. He wasn’t yours, was he?”
“No, ma’am. I just delivered him.” He set his bottle down on a cocktail napkin. “To be fair, Ruby really didn’t know she was pregnant. She thought her stomach was upset because she’d just broken up with her boyfriend.”
The rancher whistled. “You have had some awful luck, cowboy.”
“I don’t understand,” Margie said, scowling at him. “I’ve heard plenty of women talk about you. They got all kind of stories about how you tear up the sheets with them. Not a one ever mentioned getting hurt.”
Rob winked at her. “That’s because I don’t date them. Excuse me.” He walked across the bar to intercept the stripper sneaking up behind Ethan and slipped her fifty bucks. “Keep most of your clothes on, sweetheart, and no lap dances. Okay?”
She nodded and tucked the bills in her bra. “Old-fashioned?”
“Yeah, and truly in love.” Rob returned to his bar stool, where the rancher held out a fresh beer to him. “What’s this for?”
“Luck,” the older man said, smiling now. “You never know when it’s going to change.”
#
“Can I hide out in here with you?”
Malory French glanced at the green-eyed, strawberry blonde who had just come in the restroom. She leaned against the exit door as if she meant to hold back a tide of demons. “Sure. Are you sneaking away from the bridal shower or the baby shower?”
“Bridal.” The other woman glanced down at the colored dot stickers adorning the front of her pretty lace blouse. “They’re playing Love Bingo — without the cards. If I go back out there I’m going to hurt someone.”
Malory chuckled. “I was roped into the baby shower. They’re planning to bob for nipples next. The baby bottle variety. You know, I think there’s a back door through the kitchen.”
“I love you. Want to have my baby?” The other woman grinned and held out a slim, capable-looking hand. “Jessa Cooper, equine vet.” She nodded as Malory inspected her small but lovely engagement ring. “And bride-to-be, I’m afraid.”
“Malory French, head librarian. Happily unmarried and childless. Since I came in last in the Diaper Derby, probably for the best.” She shook her hand and then rolled her eyes as a very pregnant young woman darted inside and closed the door.
“They’re sticking tiny clothespins on me now.” Becca Boone began pulling them from her collar and sleeves. “Make them stop.”
The three of them laughed together, and Malory congratulated them both before making her excuses.
“Becca, I am so happy for you and Chris.” She turned to Jessa. “That goes for you and Ethan, too, Jessa. But I have to get up early tomorrow, so I’m going to call it a night. I almost forgot.” She reached for her purse, and took out her gift for Becca. “It’s that book on natural childbirth you couldn’t find at the library.”
“Oh, thank you for remembering.” Becca gave her a somewhat awkward hug. “Now I just have to hide it from Chris. He nearly passed out when they showed the childbirth film at our last Lamaze class. Then he asked the instructor if he gets any anesthetic in labor and delivery.”
As she drove home to her little apartment across town, Malory tried to hold onto her good mood. She didn’t often socialize, but Becca Boone had become one of her favorite regular patrons at the library. She also liked her gentle giant of a husband, Chris, who obviously adored his wife. Thank heavens neither of them seemed to remember her from high school.
“I’m not that girl anymore,” she muttered under her breath. “I’m just like every other woman in town.”
Once she parked, Malory climbed out of the car, and then staggered a little as her head began to spin. “Oh, Lord,” she muttered under her breath. “Did they spike the punch, too?”
Thankfully her apartment was on the first floor. When she reached it, however, she felt so dizzy she could barely fit her key into the lock. Malory managed to get inside, her purse falling from her hand as she staggered over to the phone in the kitchen. The buttons blurred as she peered at them, trying to remember what number she was going to dial.
As the room tilted, a gloved hand took the receiver from her shaking fingers and hung it back up.
Chapter Two
Rob slowly woke to the warmth of the naked woman wrapped around him, and sighed as he pulled her closer. She smelled of wildflowers and had skin so soft and smooth it glided like rose petals under his hands. He’d never felt so good waking up with a lady in his arms, in fact, and smiled as he imagined how he might best wake her up.
He shifted her so that she lay fully on top of him and rubbed his hands down the long curve of her spine. Her sweetly curved, firm buttocks fit his palms as if made for them.
“Mmmm.” The low, husky sound she made vibrated against his neck, sending a surge of hot blood straight to his groin.
Rob opened his eyes to a dark room, and tucked in his chin to look at a mop of tangled dark curls. She wriggled against him, the damp folds of her sex grazing the full plum of his cockhead. For a moment all he wanted to do was work his pulsing rod into her softness and keep it there until she woke.
Only two things kept him from doing just that: he had no idea who she was, or how he’d ended up in bed with her.
Rob’s head began to thump painfully. He pushed aside his rapidly-fading desires and inspected his surroundings. The motel room they occupied looked old and shabby. Clothes lay strewn over the threadbare carpet. The ancient television had a hand-lettered note taped to its screen: BROKE.
He knew places like this, but he’d never brought a woman to them.
The naked woman on top of him stirred, sighed, and then went completely still. She lifted her head and stared at him, her drowsy expression turning to wide-eyed, absolute horror.
Rob knew exactly who she was. Malory French had grown up in Crystal Valley, and she’d been a year behind him in school. She’d taken over as the town’s head librarian when Ella King had retired three years ago. She was also known as the most prim and proper woman in town. So what the hell was she doing in bed with him?
He felt her tremble violently and lifted his hands off her bottom. “Please, don’t scream.”
Malory didn’t make a sound. She scrambled off him and fell off the bed in her haste to put distance between them. On the floor she kept crawling backward, stopping only when her buttocks banged into the one rickety chair in the room.
Rob found his pants and jerked them on before he got up a
nd went after her.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he told her as she staggered to her feet and turned as if to run for the door. He held out the rumpled sheet and turned away as she wrapped it around her trembling body.
“What did you do to me?” she demanded, her voice shaken. “Where am I?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I can’t remember. Do you?”
She grabbed some of her clothes from the floor and clutched them to her chest. She kept darting looks at him until she finally asked, “You’re one of the Boone brothers – Caleb?”
“No, I’m Robert. Rob.” That she didn’t know his name only made things seem worse. “What can you remember?”
She pulled the sheet around her and averted her gaze. “I was at Crystal Valley Reception Center. They had a baby shower there for your brother’s wife, Becca. I went into the restroom and then . . . .” She stopped and touched her temple. “Nothing. I can’t remember anything.” Her frightened gray eyes met his. “What about you?”
“I was at my brother’s bachelor party, but I don’t remember leaving the roadhouse.” Rob saw how she was trembling and felt sick. “Please, sit down. I won’t touch you again, I promise.”
“Which roadhouse were you at?” she asked tightly.
“The Cue Ball.” Rob frowned. “But that can’t be – it’s at least thirty miles outside town.”
“You mean we couldn’t have met and . . . decided to do this.” She lowered herself into the chair as if she were afraid it would break her. “Even if we had met last night, I never . . . .” she stared at the bed, her expression bewildered and shocked. “Robert, I’m not this kind of woman.”
“Yeah, I figured that.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to think of how to ask the next question. He decided coming straight out with it was better than tiptoeing around it. “Ms. French, did we have sex?”
“Under the circumstances I think you should call me Malory.” She glanced down at her lap. “And without getting into specifics, yes, I think we were intimate.”
