Diamond in the Rough (Diamond J #2)

by Lori L. Robinett

  Aidan joined his boss at the fence and said, “Everything okay, boss?”

  Beau made a snorting noise, but no answer.

  Aidan glanced over his shoulder, but didn’t see Mr. Ian Woon among the clumps of people sitting on the bales or at the picnic tables. He said, “There’s a man here looking for your aunt.”

  Beau’s head snapped around and he focused on Aidan with a laser intensity. “Who? Why? What’s he want?”

  Aidan held up both hands in a gesture of innocence, and said, “Said his name is Mr. Ian Woon. Said he’s with the Tri-State Cattle Consortium. Wants to talk to Lana.” He paused a moment, searching his memory. “He called her by some big long name, Svetlana something?”

  The muscles in Beau’s jaw worked furiously. “What did you tell him?”

  Aidan let his hands drop and shrugged, then said, “Nothing. Name means nothing to me. No idea who he is. So, I didn’t tell him anything. Just walked away.”

  Beau turned to lean his back against the fence. He propped one foot against the rail and leaned back, elbows resting on the white wooden railing. In spite of the casual pose, tension oozed from him. “You left him wandering around?”

  Aidan glanced at Beau and said, “Yeah. You didn’t invite him?”

  Beau shook his head.

  Aidan continued, “He’s an odd duck. Little man. Round. Had an accent. English, I think.”

  Beau’s eyes scanned the crowd, darting from face to face. Aidan frowned at his friend. “Do you know who he is?”

  Beau shook his head no again.

  Aidan nodded, but didn’t understand. There was obviously more to Aunt Lana than just a relative who happened to be passing through. He’d suspected that from the start, because Beau changed, grew more wary and guarded, when she had arrived at the ranch in her big yellow semi last summer.

  But Beau wasn’t much of a talker or a sharer, even though he was probably closer to Aidan than anyone else on the ranch – perhaps with the exception of Charlotte – he hadn’t said anything to indicate why he was nervous about her being there.

  To Aidan, she was just flat out weird. He’d never met anyone at ditzy at she was. Like a flower child leftover from the 70’s, a gypsy-like wanderer, she didn’t seem to have a home base and essentially lived in her sleeper cab, occasionally mooching off of friends and relatives like she was currently doing with Beau. Aidan couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was off with her, though. He didn’t think she was nearly as ditzy as she pretended to be, and that wide-eyed innocent act that she had just played with Beau was just that – an act. He was certain of it.

  Aidan nodded in the direction of the crowd and said, “You think we should go mingle?”

  Beau nodded and looked up toward the house and said, “Guess I need to get back to the barbecue grill.”

  Aidan followed his gaze and saw Beth standing on the corner of the deck watching them, arms still crossed over her chest. Even from here, he could nearly make out the concern on her face. He said, “You want some help with the grilling?”

  Beau shook his head no and said, “I got it under control. Why don’t you go chat up some of the rodeo cowboys, get a feel for what they’re looking for, what they think of our stock.”

  Aidan nodded. “Will do, boss.”

  They started to walk toward the crowd and Beau said, “And if you see the mysterious Mr. Ian Woon again, let me know.”

  Aidan nodded as the two split up. He walked up and joined a clump of cowboys sitting on the straw bales, each with a brown beer bottle in his hand. “Howdy, boys. I think the burgers are about ready. Want to go fill your plates?”

  As he walked toward the serving table, he scanned the crowd, but didn’t see Gina, her little boy, the mysterious Mr. Ian Woon, or Aunt Lana.

  There was a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach that he just couldn’t escape.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Confrontation

  Gina marched away from the two cowboys, irritated at the crassness and forwardness of that guy named Marty. Nothing ticked her off more than a man who assumed that he could be overly familiar with her right away, like he expected her to swoon all over him just because he showed a little interest in her.

  Men could be such jerks.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the two men, who had turned back to look at the horses. Her irritation at Marty was more about Aidan than anything Marty had done, she admitted to herself. She’d been looking forward to spending some time with him, getting to know him, in a social situation. Though it had been nice to have him around earlier in the week, fixing a dishwasher wasn’t exactly quality time.

  Toby tugged her toward a big long table covered with food. He exclaimed, “Hot dogs, Mom! I’m hungry! Can I have two hot dogs?”

  Her frown faded, replaced by a smile. She said, “Let’s start with one and then you can go back for another if you finish the first one.”

  The sound of his voice was all she needed to improve her mood. She let him lead her toward the table, where she helped him fill his plate and then filled her own. They wound through the crowd looking for a place to sit, but all the tables were full.

  He looked at some hay bales and she could almost see the gears working in his mind as he looked at people sitting on the bales. She said, “Want to sit here?”

  “Yes!” he exclaimed as he hurried toward a group of bales where no one was sitting, near the edge of the lawn. He sat down and she sat beside him, then she opened his soda and showed him how to hold it between his legs to keep it from spilling. A few people nodded and said hello in greeting as they passed by, but no one stopped to sit with them. Gina was used to that, but she still struggled with loneliness. Being a single mom left her feeling isolated more often than she cared to admit.

  She made a concerted effort to make eye contact with some of the other guests. At Midge’s insistence, she had several business cards in her back pocket. She should take advantage of this situation, with so many people from the community in attendance, it was a good opportunity to meet new people and perhaps encourage new customers to stop by the scrapbook store.

  Aidan caught her eye as he walked through the crowd. She hoped she hadn’t offended him when she left abruptly. It suddenly occurred to her that he might not have picked up on the fact that it was Marty that irritated her and not him. She started to scoot over a bit to make room for him, then stopped herself.

  Could she settle for a ranch hand? She glanced at Toby. She had a son to think about. What could Aidan offer her? He couldn’t support her and her son. She’d seen the old Chevy pickup he drove. He could barely support himself, much less a family. Was it worth it to start a relationship that didn’t have a chance of going anywhere. She wasn’t getting any younger.

  Then again, he struck her as gentle and patient, not to mention sexy as hell.

  And he could fix household appliances.

  As she watched Aidan speaking with a short, rotund man, she considered she didn’t bring much to the table either. Aidan had a pretty good life now. He lived on a ranch, had a good boss (or seemed to anyway, from the looks of things today), probably enjoyed the single life.

  What was there to not enjoy? He ate when he wanted, when he wanted, drank when he wanted, came in when he wanted. He had no one to answer to, no one to nag him. Why would he want to go out with someone with as much baggage as her?

  “Why you frowning, Mom?” Toby asked through a mouth full of hot dog.

  Because I’m too young to be alone. She reached up and rubbed her forehead in an effort to erase the frown lines and said, “Nothing, little man. Just thinking.”

  Gina spotted an older woman making her way through the various clumps of people, from table to table, from bale to bale. She carried a large tray laden with bottles and cans. She approached them and said, “Can I offer you a drink?”

  Toby tipped his soda back and drained it in one gulp, then grabbed his mother by the arm and said, “Can I have another, Mom?”

>   She tilted her head and frowned, “I think one’s enough, little man.”

  The older woman lowered the tray to a straw bale and pointed to a short can, her soft green eyes on Gina. She offered, “We have some little cans of root beer and orange drink. Perhaps your mom would let you have one of those?”

  Gina put her index finger to her lips and pretended to think it over while Toby pleaded his case. Finally she smiled and said, “Okay, a little can.”

  As Toby carefully selected his drink from the tray, the older woman whispered to Gina, “I understand completely. Don’t want a caffeine fueled child running around ‘til all hours of the night, do we?” She had a slight Irish brogue.

  “No,” Gina said, emphatically shaking her head, though it really wouldn’t matter for her. It wasn’t like she had anything else on her Saturday night schedule. “I’m Gina Montgomery.”

  The older woman’s eyes sparkled under arched brows. She lowered herself to a straw bale across from the trio, next to her tray of drinks. “Well, hello, Gina! It is a pleasure to meet you, child. I’m Charlotte.”

  Gina looked at the woman, but couldn’t place her. Apparently she worked for the Diamond J. Or perhaps she was friends with the ranch’s owner. Gina’s mind spun, wondering how the women knew her.

  Charlotte gushed, “You did a wonderful job on the invitations!”

  Of course, the invitations! Gina blushed at the compliment and murmured, “Thank you. I enjoyed making them.”

  “Well, you did a heck of a job.” The older woman leaned forward. “Miss Beth was so impressed, she sent a few to her fancy friends up in Kansas City.”

  Gina blushed at the compliment. “Stop by the store sometime and say hello. Let me know if there’s anything I can ever do for you.” She hoped it sounded less desperate out loud than it did in her head.

  Charlotte looked at the card, then tapped it with her index finger as a mysterious smile spread across her face. She said, “So you’re the Gina.”

  Gina felt herself pull back, her smile fading as confusion caused her to hesitate. She asked, “I’m sorry?”

  The older woman leaned forward conspiratorially and said, “You certainly caught Aidan’s eye. He’s quite taken with you.”

  Gina felt off balance, not sure how to respond. Toby declared, “I’m done. Can I go throw my stuff away?”

  Charlotte pointed to the end of the row of straw bales. She offered, “There’s a trash can right down there.”

  While Charlotte asked questions about the scrapbook store and the invitations and cards she made, Toby proudly walked back and forth to the trash can, delivering each piece of trash and throwing it away, glad to have a job to do. As he returned from his last trip to the trash can, Gina saw him pause and squint into the crowd. He hurried back to her and said, “Mom! Dad’s here, too!”

  She blinked and shot to her feet. “Where?” Her eyes swept left, then right.

  He clambered onto the straw bale next to her, scanned the crowd and then pointed, “Over there! With that clown lady.”

  Her gaze narrowed as she spotted her ex walking away from the crowd with a woman dressed rather oddly. Even without the pig tails, Gina was quite certain it was the woman from the truck stop.

  Charlotte said, “Is everything okay?”

  Gina pressed her lips together as she considered what to do. Charlotte stood and stepped close. “If you need to go talk to him, I would be glad to have your little boy help me with the drinks for a few minutes.”

  Gina chewed her lip as she considered her options. Steve and the wild haired woman were nearing the fence, and if they continued to walk they would soon be in a stand of trees. She looked at Toby.

  There was no doubt something going on that Steve was involved with that she certainly did not want Toby to be involved in or exposed to in any way shape or form. She looked at the older woman, who reminded her of Aunt Bea from the Andy Griffith Show. Though she seemed trustworthy, Gina hesitated.

  Charlotte assured her, “Go right ahead. He can help me hand out sodas. We’ll be right in this area.” She motioned to the half circle of straw bales.

  The desire to find out what Steve was up to outweighed her suspicion. She helped Toby slide off the straw bale and said, “You stay with Miss Charlotte here and do what she says, okay? You help her hand out sodas to these nice people. Can you do that for me?”

  “Yes.” He nodded sagely. “I’m a big boy.”

  “Yes, you are,” she said, then gave him a quick hug. She hurried off toward her ex-husband and the crazy lady he had become entangled with. She wove in and out of clumps of people, mostly cowboys, but some were business people from town that she recognized. A few of the women she recognized from her store, and a handful of them stopped to ask her about things like upcoming classes and new products that they were hoping she was going to get in. She stopped, not wanting to be rude, but kept an eye on her ex-husband.

  It was easy to do – his new friend’s hair was nearly neon, easy to spot. She excused herself and headed for them. A handful of people stood at the edge of the yard, looking out over the pasture. She walked up to the fence as if looking at the horses grazing in the pasture. She shifted along the fence every few moments, alert to Steve and the woman.

  They were deeply engrossed in conversation, their heads close together, ignoring everyone else. One of the horses walked up to the fence and she reached across to pet the horse’s muzzle. She was glad. It gave her a reason to be standing there and she didn’t feel like as exposed. The horse dropped its head and grazed a few feet to its right, then lifted its head over the fence. Perfect.

  She shifted with the horse, closer to the two people she was interested in. This continued a couple more times and at last, she could make out bits and pieces of the conversation.

  His voice, “ … sale barn …”

  Her voice, scratchy and gravelly, like a woman who had smoked all her life, “… sacrifice …”

  His voice, “… out of town …”

  Hers again, “… honor the family …”

  His again, “ … strip and rebrand …”

  At that moment, someone chose to fire up the sound system and strains of Miranda Lambert singing about her hometown drifted across the lawn, effectively smothering the bits and pieces of conversation.

  The horse nickered at her and nuzzled her hand, and she realized that she had turned toward Steve and the woman, focusing all her attention on them.

  Obviously she wasn’t good at sneaking up on people and spying on them.

  The odd woman drifted back toward the group at the barbecue, not in any hurry, stopping to pick dandelions along the way. Steve faced away from her, his cell phone to his ear. Gina approached him, no longer sneaking, but didn’t announce her presence either.

  Once in earshot, she paused and listened as Steve spoke into his phone. “We’re on for tonight. Meet me at the Petro at 11:30. It’ll take us about an hour to get there.”

  He listened for a moment, then said, “We’re taking them to the sale barn up in northeast Missouri.” He nodded, listening, then, “The sale is Monday night.”

  He flipped his phone closed and turned around. Gina stood ready for him, arms crossed across her chest, lips pressed together, jaw set. She was so angry, she felt like she could spit nails. She sucked in deep breaths, trying to control her anger, not wanting to make a scene within sight of the crowd at the barbecue.

  She spat the words at him, “You son of a bitch!”

  His eyes were wide and he feigned innocence as he spread his hands apart, palms up, and said, “What was that for?” He glanced over her shoulder.

  She glared at him. “I knew you were up to no good. I’ve seen you with that woman before, at the truck stop.”

  He shrugged as his eyes slid side to side. “There’s no law against talking to women.” He waved his hand at her. “Keep your voice down.”

  She wagged a finger in his face and hissed, “There is a law against cattle rustling.”
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  That got his attention. Suddenly his eyes darted from her to the crowd and back. He spoke through clenched teeth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She pointed up the hill at the crowd gathered on the lawn and said, “Your little boy is up there. He looks up to you. You are his hero. Level with me right now and I won’t embarrass you in front of him.”

  He started to turn away from her, but she grabbed him by the arm. He jerked it away and said, “You don’t know what you’re messing with here. Keep quiet and mind your own business. Please.”

  She could feel a vein pulsing in her temple. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want our son to be forever known as the son of a criminal. Whatever you are doing, whatever you have planned, it is not worth it. Get out of it before it’s too late.”

  “This is not what you think.” He leaned close. “You need to forget what you saw.”

  Her nostrils flared and she could feel the blood pounding in her veins. She said, “Don’t you tell me what to do.”

  He frowned, his face dark and stormy as he said, “You’re messing with something you don’t want to mess with.”

  “Why are you doing this?” she demanded.

  He snorted and shook his head, then reached out as if to touch her.

  She jerked back. “I’m warning you. You get out of whatever you’re into. I will not let you hurt my son.”

  He turned away from her and began walking toward the vehicles parked along the long driveway. He looked over his shoulder and left her with his parting shot, “He’s OUR son.”

  She stood there, shaking with fury. They brought out the worst in each other, and she hated herself for feeling petty, for losing control of her emotions. Steve was better than this. Sure, he’d had a bad boy reputation when they were young, but he wasn’t a common criminal. Somehow, he’d gotten in with the wrong crowd, and he was in serious trouble.