Garret rose. “Let’s go. I’m more than ready to confront him.”
Kira started to rise, but Garret placed a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you hang with Shay for a while? Make us a fresh pot of coffee. Maybe get those cinnamon rolls out. We’ll come back here as soon as we’ve had that talk and fill both of you in. And later, I’ll get to Noah and Harper to let them know what’s going down.”
“Yes,” Kira said, seeing Shay nod in agreement over the idea, “we’ll wait here.”
Reese said, “Good planning. Ready, Garret?”
Grimly, Garret said, “More than ready. Let’s go.”
Chapter Twelve
It was nearly eleven a.m. when Reese and Garret returned to the main house. Kira sat stiffly, anxiety running through her, hands tightening around her coffee mug, as the two cowboys entered the kitchen. Both were looking grim.
Garret poured them coffee and they sat down at the table. Then he grabbed one of the cinnamon rolls.
Reese sat down, giving his attention to Shay. “Your father is pissed off as hell, but he got that we were serious about how he was treating you and Kira.”
Garret said, “Kira, he knows he has to treat you with respect. He got that message in spades.”
Nervously, her fingers moved around the warm cup. “You think he really did?”
Garret smiled a little. A wolfish smile. “Reese put the screws to Ray. Told him that if you complain about his behavior to you, he’s out of here permanently.”
“Oh, I bet that went over well,” Shay muttered, worried.
“He started with a bunch of gibberish about still owning the ranch,” Reese told her. “I cut him off, told him that he had no legal legs to stand on, and that because you and I are the owners, we set the rules. And if he doesn’t follow our wishes, he’ll go back to the nursing home or wherever else he chooses to go.”
“What did he say to that?” Shay asked.
“He was shocked we came over and confronted him. I don’t think anyone has ever done that before,” Reese said. “He’s a bully, Shay. And a bully, when confronted, melts away. He didn’t say anything. He just sat and listened.”
“He agreed to be nice to everyone,” Garret told them. “I’ll believe that when I see it, but for now, we have to trust Ray to do what he said he would.” He held Kira’s searching gaze. “He’ll never touch you again,” he said gruffly. “Ray knows that if it ever happens, he’s dealing directly with me.”
“And that he’s off the ranch permanently,” Reese added. “He’s not getting any second chances.”
Kira said, “I hope this works. I really do.”
“Lunch is in an hour,” Garret said, “so let’s see how Ray reacts to you.”
She nodded and sipped her coffee. Garret had eaten two cinnamon rolls already. Her stomach was rolling with nausea and she had no desire to eat anything. Kira wasn’t going to tell any of them how this was affecting her, but the glint in Garret’s eyes alerted her that he knew she was feeling anxiety. For her, it was like entering a war zone when it came to dealing with Ray Crawford. And he wasn’t someone who could be relied on for logical actions or reactions. It made her feel nervous and flighty, but she wanted to put herself in the line of fire for Shay and Reese. These two people loved the Bar C for all the right reasons. If Ray ever got the ranch back, he’d destroy it, given time.
“In a way,” Shay offered, “I feel like we’re on a battlefield and Ray is our mutual enemy. And he’s a powerful one. I know his stubbornness. When he sets his mind to something, he never veers from his goal.”
Kira reached across the table and touched her hand. “It is a war, but it’s one worth fighting. I’m happy to support your and Reese’s vision for this ranch.”
“Thank you,” Shay said, gripping her hand and squeezing it. “You’re the person who’s really under fire with Ray. I worry—”
“Don’t,” Kira said strongly. “I’ve survived things I shouldn’t have already. I’ll make this work.” She saw some hope come to Shay’s blue eyes. The woman had been totaled by what had happened and she felt badly for her. Kira was so glad she had a father who loved her, who was a good man and nothing like Ray. They had both lost their mothers, but even then, Kira felt lucky. Her mother, while having deep depression, still had been a constant in her life, or at least tried to be. Shay’s mother had been an abuse victim, so Shay had no one to protect or support her growing up. Kira now understood why, even when she was beaten down, she still had confidence in herself. Shay didn’t, and that was where Reese’s love and support had become vital as she rebuilt and strengthened her weakened foundation.
“I’ll still worry,” Shay admitted.
“I’ll be there for her,” Garret promised.
Kira felt her heart open wide with a fierce love for this man who’d made it clear he would protect her. She gave Garret a soft smile. Reaching over, she briefly touched his arm. “You always were.”
“Always will be,” he growled, pinning her with a burning look.
* * *
Kira saw a remarkable difference in Ray’s demeanor when she entered his house to make his lunch. He was sitting at the table with a book of crossword puzzles, pencil in hand.
“What would you like for lunch, Mr. Crawford?” she asked, trying to sound light and relaxed, though she felt anything but. She went to the kitchen counter and tied on the red-and-white-checked apron.
“Not too hungry. How about just a tuna sandwich? Some sweet pickles?”
The tone of his voice was shockingly different. Still, Kira saw anger banked in his eyes, although he refused to meet her gaze.
“Of course.” Kira felt so tense that she might snap, but she kept taking deep, slow breaths to minimize her anxiety. She forced herself to focus and not use her weak hand to pick up anything heavy. In no time she had his food prepared and brought over to the table. She didn’t expect a please or thank you from Ray. That would be asking too much.
“I’ll go tidy up your bedroom,” she said, taking off her apron. It was something she did either after breakfast or lunch.
“Whatever.”
Well, okay, she could live with his minimal replies. At least they weren’t laden with frustration and impatience as before. Kira hurried through the living room, picking up the strewn parts of a newspaper from the floor. In the bedroom, she partially closed the door. Hurrying to the dresser, she quietly opened every drawer. In a middle drawer, beneath a stack of T-shirts, she found a bottle of whiskey. Taking her iPhone, she snapped a picture of it, then sat it up on the dresser to see where the level was. The bottle was half empty. She took another photo.
She felt some triumph as she placed the bottle back into the drawer. Kira knew the proof would further devastate Shay, who hoped her father was on the wagon. The pain she was going through was awful and unending. Kira felt for her. In no time, she had the bed made, the bathroom cleaned and picked up. Taking the dirty clothes to the washer on the porch, Kira’s duties were complete.
As she put on her parka to leave, she asked, “What would you like for dinner tonight, Mr. Crawford?”
“A roast with potatoes, carrots and celery. I want gravy, too.”
“Okay, sounds good. I’ll be back later to get it started.” She left, and as she hurried through the cloudy day, snowflakes lazily twirling around her, Kira saw Garret talking with Noah and Harper in the barn aisle. She was sure he was filling them in on what was going on.
Once in the house, she wrote down everything and made a file for the pictures. Her translation duties were next and she hurried to her office. In about fifteen minutes Garret would be coming over for lunch.
* * *
Garret entered the kitchen. “Kira?” he called down the hall. “You around?” He’d just got finished talking with Noah and Harper. It was 1300 and he was hungry.
“I’m in here,” she called from her office. “Just a moment . . .”
“Okay,” he said, going to the kitchen. He’d started a nav
y bean soup early that morning with a ham hock, and now he lifted the lid, inhaling the scent, satisfied it was ready. He heard Kira’s quick footfalls coming down the hall as he whipped up some corn bread batter. Twisting a look over his shoulder, he said, “How’d it go with Crawford?”
“So far, so good,” she said. “Need help?”
“Yes. Could you get out the paper cups? I’m going to make us some corn bread muffins to go with our soup.”
She nodded and turned, opening a cupboard. “Ray was very subdued.”
“Was he nasty to you?”
“No.” She pulled out an aluminum pan and put the paper cups in them. “He hardly looked at me. It went okay. I found a bottle of whiskey in his dresser drawer.”
Garret halted for a moment, bowls in hand. “You did?”
“Yes. I took photos.” She frowned. “We have to tell Shay and Reese.”
Grunting, he said, “We’ll do it after lunch. You have those photos saved on your laptop?”
“Yep, I’m ahead of you.” She sighed. “I feel so bad for Shay. She’s hurting.”
“I know,” he said, slipping her a concerned look. “How are you holding up?”
“Okay. I mean, it was nerve-racking for me, but I just kept it light and breezy. He was really, really subdued. Amazing.”
“He’d better stay that way.”
Hearing the checked anger in his tone, Kira slid the pan toward him so he could pour the batter into the cups. “How are Noah and Harper taking all this?”
“Harper, being the wry wit he is, said this sounded like a soap opera in the making. Of course he was teasing.”
“He’s a very sensitive guy. He was a combat corpsman. I can’t say I disagree with his analysis. Just wish it wasn’t happening to us. We’re the last people you want in that kind of scenario. We have our own PTSD drama going on inside us, 24/7/365. We don’t need another one on top of everything else. It’s super stressful.”
Sliding the muffins into the oven, Garret straightened. “Shay’s a mess, and she’s going through a lot, with the physical abuse being uncovered. But she has Reese and he’ll help her. And we’ll be there to support her, too.”
Sobering, Kira said, “We all need someone.” It came out sounding wistful, and she saw Garret’s eyes suddenly narrow on her. It wasn’t upsetting. It was . . . well . . . comforting. She saw so much in his hazel eyes for a split second and then it was gone. How she wished he would really open up to her.
“We need one another,” Garret agreed thickly, “no question. I wish I could do more for Shay, but we all know the internal battleground where she was wounded. It comes down to each of us doing the hard inner work to heal it. Reese can be there to listen to her, and I know how important it is for a woman to be able to talk.” He gave her a teasing grin.
“Phooey, like men don’t need to talk, too? Give me a break, Fleming.”
His lips curved. “I like you feisty. You always were over in Afghanistan.”
She sighed. “Yeah, I lost a lot of myself back there. I know that.” Brightening, she held his smile, feeling warmth and something wonderful but unnamed flow powerfully through her. “But around you, it seems to all come back.”
He came over and cupped her face, angling her chin just a little upward so he could hold her soft gray gaze. “See? You think you’ve lost parts of yourself, but you know what? I think it’s still there. Just under some rocks and dirt is all.” He released her and stepped back. “Let’s have some coffee while we wait for the muffins to bake.”
Shaken by his unexpected intimacy, her flesh dancing with delight where he’d placed his roughened palms against her, Kira could barely breathe for a moment. The look in Garret’s eyes made her run hot with longing. It took her by surprise. The man was sex on a stick as far as Kira was concerned. There was nothing about Garret that was a turnoff. He was everything she wanted. “Yes . . . coffee,” she agreed, a little breathless. Anything to get this hunger within her tamped down. Every cell in her body knew Garret would be a tender lover. Her skin tightened just imagining him kissing her, running his hands over her body. Kira was amazed, as always, at how Garret could incite her body to a riot of keen longing.
Garret placed the mugs on the table and sat down. “Tell me about the whiskey.”
She pulled her cell phone from her pocket, brought up the photos and handed it to Garret. Sitting down, she took a sip of the hot, black coffee, hoping it would calm her down. Mystified because, as intimate as Garret had suddenly become, he seemed far removed from that now. In part, she knew a black ops person had a single-focus ability like no other. But in the moment he’d devoted all his attention to her, she’d felt like she was the sun in his world. Garret always made her feel special, fully desired and wanted. She saw his mouth purse as he studied the photos she’d taken.
“Okay, good work,” he praised, handing the phone back to her. “Check tomorrow after lunch. We need to understand how much he’s consuming daily.”
“What about the person he’s getting to buy it for him?”
Garret sipped his coffee. “First, let’s see how much he’s drinking. That would be key testimony in a court case should this thing go to trial. Then, we’ll find the guy whose doing it for the money.”
“I didn’t smell any alcohol on his breath. I made a point of getting close enough when I put down his food in front of him.”
“He might not be drinking every day.”
“I hope this doesn’t escalate, Garret. Shay and Reese can’t afford a hundred-thousand-dollar court case if things go in that direction.”
“I know.”
“That kind of money isn’t just laying around.”
“Noah has a horse he’s been working with since he’s been here. It had been abused by its previous owner.”
“Broken by it?”
“As in a broken spirit, yes. Noah has been trying to put him back together again. The sheriff’s department is interested in buying some trail-trained horses for finding lost children and hikers in the Salt River Range. That’s a twenty-thousand-dollar horse once he gets it fully trained. Did you realize that?”
“No. I knew it took a year or more to make a trained trail horse, but I had no idea.”
“Noah says the horse is coming along well.”
“What do you mean?”
“Talk to Noah sometime in depth, but he’ll tell you there’s a fast and a slow way to train a horse to a high level of performance. The fast way uses negative training methods. The slow way uses positive reinforcement. The horse was trained by a man who used what I consider torture to get the animal to do what he wanted. Noah has been working to gain his trust and uses positive reinforcement instead. The horse is responding well, and Noah thinks in another three months he’ll be ready to be put up for sale. He’s going to stipulate that a woman officer or deputy work with the horse because the horse’s trust in men is pretty well shot. Maybe it could be Sarah Carter’s horse.”
“Except that he trusts Noah.”
“Everybody trusts that dude,” Garret said wryly. “Even me, and I’m not good at trusting many people.”
She tilted her head, thinking over his statement. “You always trusted me from the moment we met. How do you explain that?”
Garret managed a one-cornered smile. “It was easy, Kira. Anyone with two eyes in their head would trust you the moment you stepped into their life.”
She felt a powerful flare of hope in her heart as he gave her an intimate look that couldn’t be construed any other way. “I never knew you felt that way about me.”
“Couldn’t say a thing in Afghanistan. We were a team and there wasn’t any room left over for any kind of relationship other than the professional one we maintained.”
“Yes,” Kira said, remembering the hundreds of times she’d wanted to reach out and touch his arm, his hand. Just small gestures to let him know she appreciated him, but Kira knew that such errant contact would cause problems in the team. It was okay to be a frie
nd—at a distance. Nothing close. Nothing . . . well . . . intimate or suggestive.
“I wanted something more with you, Kira, but at the time it wasn’t going to fly.”
Kira’s heart bounded once, hard, in her chest as Garret’s roughened voice fell across her. At first she thought she was making it up because there was nothing she wanted more than continued intimacy with him. She took a sip of coffee. Her heart warring with her head, considering his statement, she folded her hands in front of her. “We were always good at working with each other,” she began, feeling a throb in her throat. Kira longed to have the diplomatic words she needed, but she was far from being a diplomat. Her parents had taught her to be honest at every juncture. And sometimes true honesty and diplomacy clashed. She pushed some strands of hair from her cheek, tucking them behind her ear.
“We grew to be best of friends,” Garret said.
“Yes . . . yes, we did.” Kira felt his gaze burrowing into her, as if he could see right through her and read her mind. Sometimes she thought Garret could do that. He seemed to sense or somehow read her emotions.
Feeling as if she were on a balance beam, Kira knew she couldn’t blurt out how she really felt about him. At least not yet. He was offering her something, though, even if she didn’t know where it might lead. Maybe just a deeper friendship? She wanted so much more than that. Compressing her lips, she stole a look at his serious expression. “My mom and dad always taught me that friendship was the best basis for a deeper relationship of any kind.”
“Were your parents friends first?” he wondered.
“Yes, they were. They met and became friends because they worked at the timber company together. Mom was an office assistant at the time. My father was an axman, out in the woods cutting down trees. She was a budding wildlife photographer, and on weekends he’d drive her around on the back roads in the area, showing her where there were deer and other animals to photograph.”
“As I recall, you always had a camera in your hands in the sandbox.”
Wind River Cowboy Page 16
