Colby Law

by Debra Webb

  Frustrated and mad as hell, she stamped back to the kitchen in search of the tools. Where had she put them? She’d moved a painting in her room, then…now she remembered. The antique Hoosier cabinet near the sink. Which drawer? Get a grip, Sadie! Bottom one on the right.

  She picked through the clutter in the drawer. She grabbed the hammer. The nails proved more difficult to get ahold of, especially after she knocked over the little box they were in. Her grandmother had kept them handy for hanging her collections. Framed photos, antique dishpans and most anything else that caught her eye. Sadie hadn’t changed a thing except the placement of that one painting. It was her home now but the concept of change still felt wrong, disrespectful somehow.

  Appalled all over again at her door now that she could see the full extent of the damage, she thrust the tools at Lyle. The feel of his fingers on her skin as he plucked the nails from her palm made her shiver in spite of the idea that they were in the middle of a crisis. Dummy!

  “The way the door is damaged,” he said, placing a nail and preparing to drive it into the wood, “this is the only way to secure it for now. It’s not going to be pretty when I’m done.”

  “Do what you have to do.” Suddenly deflated, Sadie regarded the chaos that had obviously blown through her kitchen. Someone had been in her house. The actuality sank in all the way for the first time. What could they possibly have wanted? She had no marketable values. No fancy electronics or jewelry. Heck, her television was older than she was. And if they had been looking for cash, this was the last place they should have come.

  On the front porch, Gator and his crew were letting her know they didn’t appreciate that she’d left them stuck in the barn. Rascals. It hadn’t taken them long to figure out there were places in that old barn even Gator could wiggle through. “I have to let the dogs in.”

  This was crazy. She shook her head as she stamped through the house. If she found out Billy Sizemore or one of his blockheaded friends did this, she was seriously going to shoot at least one of them, maybe both.

  The grandfather clock bonged quarter before the hour. Nearly three o’clock in the morning. Anger flamed higher, burning away the last of the fear and anxiety. Damn her daddy and his no-good friends. The notion that this might have something to do with why Lyle was here elbowed her, since she apparently had tried to ignore that prospect. The jury was still out—way out—on that scenario.

  With the dogs trailing her steps, she returned to the kitchen and the sound of her back door being disfigured. With his back to her, she didn’t miss the butt of the weapon tucked into the waistband of his jeans. More fuel splashed on the anger already at a steady blaze inside her.

  She waited out the final nail required to secure the door into its splintered frame. “So what happened?” Some parts were obvious, but there was plenty she didn’t know. Such as what did he hear and see? Why didn’t he warn her? And why hadn’t he told her he had a gun? “How did my front door get unlocked? Did you see anyone?”

  Lyle threaded his fingers through his hair, pushing it from his eyes. “How about I start with your last question first?” She didn’t protest, so he went on. “I watched two males enter the house through the front door after some tinkering with the lock. It’s an old lock, by the way. You need to take care of that.”

  Sadie motioned for him to go on and to shut up with the lectures.

  “One man came right back out.” He gestured ambiguously before walking over and up-righting the table and chairs. “The other was in the house maybe five minutes before I entered and tracked him down. In your room.”

  “My bedroom?” That was…nuts. There was nothing in her room worth the trouble of borrowing, much less stealing.

  Lyle nodded. “We should make sure nothing’s missing.”

  There wouldn’t be anything missing. She had nothing anyone would want. She started to say as much, but she couldn’t get past what she saw in his eyes. Fear. Worry. Uncertainty. Her breath trapped beneath her breastbone. “What is it you’re not telling me, Lyle?”

  “Sadie.” He looked away. “Let’s take this one step at a time. Right now—” those blue eyes zeroed in on hers with an urgency that unsettled her further “—we need to know what they were after.”

  The air jammed in her throat broke past its blockage and rushed into her lungs. “Okay. But then I want the truth.”

  Lyle checked the weapon at the small of his back as she led the way through the house. The living room had been ransacked. The first of the two bedrooms, as well. The bastard had just gotten to Sadie’s room when Lyle interrupted him. She needed to confirm what he already knew. There wouldn’t be anything missing in her room or the rest of the house.

  The objective, he suspected, was secured in his truck.

  Lyle had spooked the guy attempting to noiselessly break into his truck. He hadn’t gone into the woods after him, considering the other man was in the house and the possibility of Sadie waking up and coming to the house was too great. The second had gotten a little trigger happy with his escape after bursting through Sadie’s back door. Lyle hadn’t fired his weapon. Instead, he’d caught up with and tackled the guy. He’d hoped to subdue him and get some answers. Unfortunately it hadn’t worked out that way. It had come down to either shooting him or letting him go. The former was out of the question since the intruder was fleeing the scene. Lyle damned sure couldn’t protect Sadie from behind bars. Gus would have the sheriff looking for a way to nail him.

  Sadie was shaken. He saw her hands tremble more than once as she sorted through her belongings, putting things back in order as she went. Lyle helped as best he could and as much as she would allow. He didn’t ask any questions, just let her do what had to be done. The skimpy lingerie she stuffed back into a drawer introduced another reaction into this already explosive mix. He worked at suppressing the response, but it wasn’t as easy as he’d hoped.

  When her home was set to rights, she shrugged. “Nothing’s missing. Not that I can tell, anyway.”

  That wasn’t the answer he’d wanted to hear, but it was the one he’d known was coming. He feared this break-in was about Sadie’s past, not about her present.

  She looked ready to drop, but she grabbed him by the arm and ushered him toward the bathroom. “Now we take care of your face.”

  He’d forgotten all about that. “My face will survive,” he argued. The dead-last thing he needed was her touching him, particularly right now. As much as he’d like to profess complete objectivity, that would be a flat-out lie.

  “You expect me to take orders from you—” she hesitated at the door and gave him a pointed look “—but I’m not allowed to give you any? Reciprocity, McCaleb. Look it up.”

  “Ha-ha.”

  “Sit.” She pointed to the closed toilet seat.

  Arguing would just be a waste of time. Her hardheaded determination had not mellowed with age. He sidled past her and did as she asked. “I could do this myself, you know.”

  She searched the cabinet under the sink. “No doubt. But then—” she straightened with a bottle of rubbing alcohol in hand “—I wouldn’t get to do this.” She dampened a washcloth with the alcohol and dabbed his cheek.

  Though braced for the sting, he flinched, bit his tongue to hold back a hiss. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this.” Her hair hung around her shoulders, close enough he could have easily reached up and touched those silky strands. The slightest hint of the rose-scented soap she’d used, combined with the earthy essence of fresh hay, made his throat ache to tell her how good she smelled.

  How much that sweet smell made him want to touch her. Another sharp sting from the alcohol caught him off guard, and he swore. Those plump, pink lips stretched into a smile. “Sorry,” she said with absolutely no remorse.

  “You really are enjoying this.” He attempted to stay focused on the alcohol’s burn rather than the one between his spread legs.

  “More than you know.” She made another nongentle swipe. “Just a scrape. You�
��ll live.”

  “Thanks.” He stood, but wished he had stayed put when the size of the room ensured his chest brushed her shoulder. Even that generic contact sent his heart into a frenzied gallop. He pretended to ignore the punch of high-charged electricity that jolted his body by surveying the damage to his face in the mirror.

  She stared at him, or rather at his reflection. The hard questions were coming. He could feel her tension. He mentally scrambled for a way to evade the looming storm, but that wasn’t happening, barring his suddenly dropping dead. On the other hand, since her shotgun sat in the corner by the door, that was not completely impossible.

  “What is it you really want from me?”

  If her voice hadn’t sounded so small, so scared, so incredibly vulnerable, he might have gotten through this without meeting her eyes. The uncertainty he heard in her voice was confirmed right there in those jewel-green eyes, drawing even more deeply on his protective instincts. His fingers fisted in an effort to resist reaching out to her. He wanted to hold her. To promise her it would all be fine, but he couldn’t make that promise. Her whole world was about to change, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

  “I just want to protect you.” His throat tightened.

  “What were those men after?” she demanded, sounding more like herself.

  He wanted to blink. To break the spell, but that wasn’t possible. “Like I told you, your father—”

  “You’re lying.” She turned, brushing full against him, breast to chest, and stared up at him with a determination that would not easily be put off. “There’s a lot more you’re not telling me, and I want to know. Now.”

  “Sadie.” He moistened his lips, to buy time and because he wanted to taste her so badly he could hardly endure the yearning. “You’re right, there is a lot you don’t know. I explained that I’m not at liberty to give you all the details at this time. I have my—”

  “I don’t care about your orders.” She grabbed him by the shirt front and tried shaking him, maybe to make him see she wasn’t taking no for an answer. All she succeeded in doing was sending him teetering closer to the edge. “Tell me the truth, Lyle. Tell me right now.”

  There was no time to develop an intelligent strategy to outmaneuver this precarious situation. No evasive explanation that would satisfy her. His only alternative was distraction.

  His fingers dived into her hair. He pulled her mouth up to his and kissed her, hard at first out of sheer desperation, and then softer…because the taste of her melted him from the inside out. To his surprise, she didn’t resist. She relaxed into him, the contours of her body molding to his but not where he needed her to be. His hands glided down her back, formed to her gorgeous bottom and lifted her against him. Right there. God help him, he wanted her. Right now. Right here.

  She made a desperate sound that instantly hardened his already taut body. Her fingers threaded into his hair and pulled his mouth more firmly against hers. Desire and need swelled until he thought he might explode. He wanted to say things that hadn’t been said seven years ago. Wanted to keep kissing her like this forever. Most of all, he wanted deep inside her…to have his body joined with hers the way he had craved before but couldn’t.

  She stopped and started to draw her mouth from his. His entire soul protested.

  “Wait.” Her voice was husky and breathless, her face flushed with the same desire raging out of control in him. “What’re we doing?”

  His diversionary tactic had worked a little too well. “I shouldn’t have…taken advantage of the situation.” He knew this and yet he hadn’t released her. He still held her tight against him in all the right places.

  If she hadn’t looked at him that way, he might have been able to resist kissing her again. He brushed his lips across hers. Her breath caught but she didn’t draw away. Utilizing a restraint he wouldn’t have thought he possessed at that moment, he kissed her tenderly. But there was nothing tender about the way his fingers kneaded her bottom. She arched against him and he almost lost his mind.

  Then she froze, the change so abrupt his knees weakened.

  Her gaze locked on his. “They didn’t take anything from the house because that wasn’t the reason they were here.”

  Her rationale ruptured the haze enveloping his ability to reason. Hellfire. She was right. “Dare Devil.” The thought launched out of him, propelling him into action. He deposited Sadie on the floor and was out the narrow bathroom door before his next breath cleared the emotional bottleneck in his throat.

  “I should’ve thought of that.” She sprinted for the front door, almost getting ahead of him. “They lured us to the house to gain access to the horses.”

  He drew his weapon. “Stay behind me.” His hand shook with the receding desire as he fumbled with the lock. He moved across the porch, then motioned for her to join him.

  The barn doors stood open. Damn it! Sadie was right. Neighing resonated in the early-morning darkness. The sound of scrambling hooves warned more than one horse was loose.

  Sadie called to the horses, at once calming and luring the animals with soft words. Lyle moved on to the barn and turned on the lights. The stalls stood open, every single one empty, including the last one.

  “He’s gone,” Sadie said from the door, her face drawn with worry. “The others are all here, but Dare Devil is gone.”

  Fury bolted through Lyle. Damn Gus Gilmore.

  Chapter Seven

  Bucking Horse Ranch, 5:15 a.m.

  Dawn was taking its sweet time arriving. Sadie didn’t care if it was still dark. She wasn’t waiting another second, much less a minute. She’d wanted to do this over an hour ago but she’d needed to get the other horses settled first and then Lyle had given her a hard time about calming down first. When he wouldn’t turn over her truck keys, she started walking.

  Before she’d gotten a hundred yards, he’d rolled up next to her in that fancy truck of his and ordered, “Get in.”

  She’d thought about telling him to go away and never come back, that she didn’t need him or anyone else. But the truth was, as mad as she was, she understood she couldn’t do this alone—not if she was smart. If she just hadn’t allowed that kiss to happen. Maybe she could have fooled herself for a little longer that she didn’t want him…but she’d showed her hand. And now he knew what a truly pathetic person she was.

  Sadie closed her eyes and cleared her head. It wasn’t the end of the world. She had been a fool before. Seven years ago she had pleaded with him to stay, to ignore her daddy’s decree and her age. What an idiot she had been. The more important issue just now was getting that horse back. Dare Devil, like all her other rescues, deserved to live out the rest of his days in peace without performance expectations. She’d just gotten started with her rescue work really. The long-term goal was to make her ranch a haven for abused and neglected animals from all over Texas. Eventually she hoped to start a camp for underprivileged children where they could learn about the animals and the animals could enjoy their love and attention, a stark contrast from the strict life they had known in the rodeo. Sadie wasn’t trying to be a martyr or to call attention to herself. With this ranch she’d inherited she had an opportunity to do something good. And maybe to make up for her father’s lack of compassion.

  The idea that part of her motive included doing exactly the opposite of what he wanted her to do, to take over his ranch one day, niggled at her. She dismissed the notion. This wasn’t about him or her. It was about the horses.

  From the moment Lyle turned onto the road at the end of her driveway, the land that stretched across the landscape on each side of the pavement belonged to the Gilmore family.

  To Gus, actually. Since Sadie was the last in that line, so far and Lord knew she wouldn’t be in her daddy’s will, that left only him. She wasn’t sure who that was the saddest for, him or her. At the moment she could not care less. Her mind was on Dare Devil’s safety. If that horse had suffered at the hand of any of Gus’s men, she would make hi
m pay if it took the rest of her life.

  Lyle slowed for the turn into enemy territory. Sadie stared out into the darkness. Her grip tightened on her trusty shotgun. The chances of her getting the horse back were next to none. Gus was too smart for that. But she had to try. Going about this the proper way required focus, despite the ungodly hour and the formidable man—she stole a glance at the driver—who would inevitably get in her way. The heat he’d generated when he’d pulled her against him swirled even now if she allowed the mental images to filter through her head. How could she still want him so very much? Maybe if she’d paid attention to her social life instead of ignoring those basic needs, she would have been better prepared for this. For him.

  Focus, Sadie! This was definitely not the time to be distracted by neglected hormones.

  Though it was fairly early, Gus would be up. Work started at the Bucking Horse by daybreak, around six-thirty. By that time the crew had better be dressed and fed, because there were no acceptable excuses for being late. Late equated to fired. That rarely happened, since the whole county knew the way Gus Gilmore operated. He stood by the motto that hard work never hurt anyone, idle hands were the devil’s tools and all that holier-than-thou stuff. Sadie had nothing against hard work or anything holy, of course—though the only time she’d gone to church in her life was when her grandmother had taken her. What steamed Sadie the most was men like her father pretending to be something they weren’t. He didn’t keep a pew warm on Sunday mornings, but that didn’t stop him from believing he would be the first through the pearly gates on Judgment Day.

  The drive up to the mansion was a full mile. She didn’t need the sun to know that every blade of grass in the pastures on each side of the paved minihighway sporting the Gilmore name would be the same height. The lush grazing pastures would be clean of horse droppings. The Gus Gilmore world had to be perfect. There was no room for the slightest flaw. Up ahead the house sprawled across the land a full eight thousand square feet, the exterior a pristine bride-white with massive columns and expansive porches. The barns and other outbuildings were a brilliant red without a single chip of missing color and not a lick of fading evident, since they were repainted every spring. No one, save visitors, was allowed to park a vehicle in front of the house, particularly one that might lessen the impact of elegance and sophistication. A little piece of the Hamptons in central Texas.