Wyoming True

by Diana Palmer

  “They’re beautiful,” she exclaimed. “There’s a breeder on YouTube who does videos about hers. I’m addicted to it.”

  “They’re beautiful,” he agreed. “You don’t mind, that I asked him to send over the trailer?”

  “Not at all. Thank you so much. And thank him very much, as well. I don’t know him. It’s a great kindness that he’s doing, for a stranger.”

  “I’ll tell him. I haven’t mentioned this to your cowboys,” he said abruptly. “And I don’t intend to.”

  Her blood chilled. Her hands gripped the arms of the chair in which she was sitting. “You don’t think...?”

  “I don’t trust anybody,” he said flatly.

  She drew in a breath. “I used to. Not anymore. I won’t tell them, either.”

  He nodded. “I’ve got a couple of calls to make, but I’ll come back over when Ren calls me with a time frame.” He smiled. “Never hurts to have a badge around when you’re doing covert things,” he chuckled.

  She smiled back, not a flirtatious smile, but a genuine one. “Thank you.”

  He tipped his hat and went out, closing the door behind him.

  * * *

  LAREDO KNOCKED AND walked in a few minutes later. “Sheriff had us all against the wall,” he said with a short laugh. “He thinks we’re all fugitives from justice, I believe.”

  She laughed, too. “He’s just being cautious. And keep in mind that he doesn’t really know any of you. It makes a difference. I vouched for you.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Thanks.”

  “So how are the other horses?”

  “Doing fine. I can put somebody in the stable at night, if you think it’s necessary. Just in case somebody comes in with ill intent. I know how fond you are of Silver, especially after Gold and Rory were injured. I’d hate for anything to happen to Silver.”

  There had been an odd note in his deep voice when he said that, but she put it down to strain over the sheriff’s interrogation. “I think that’s a good idea,” she said, not mentioning the upcoming departure of her two favorite horses.

  “Okay, then. I’ll find a victim and tell him he’s sleeping with the horses,” he said and grinned.

  “Good job.”

  * * *

  JAKE MCGUIRE HAD been livid when he saw the new so-called bodyguard going into Ida’s house after he’d dropped her off the night they returned from Galveston. He didn’t trust her, and he was suspicious about the handsome cowboy.

  But a couple of weeks of silent deliberation brought a thought to the forefront. If Ida was in so much pain that she had to take heavy doses of anti-inflammatories, if she was even unable to wear high heels due to her injuries, how was she managing a covert sex life? He knew from his own injuries how difficult it would be, although it was information he hadn’t shared with anyone. Not even with Rogan Michaels, his best friend.

  He finally decided that she was probably speaking to the bodyguard about her horses. Maybe there had been another incident. His heart caught. She was out there all alone. Was one bodyguard going to be enough, if her ex-husband sent more than one or two thugs out to injure another of her horses?

  He worried about it. He’d been out of town on business twice, but he’d had time to check on Ida. He just hadn’t done it out of suspicion that she was playing around with her handsome bodyguard. He phoned the sheriff, Cody Banks, because he was concerned.

  “No, it’s just the one bodyguard,” Cody replied, a little surprised that he was getting a call from McGuire, who’d been openly disdainful of the beautiful divorcée.

  “She’s alone out there, and she takes heavy doses of ibuprofen for her injuries,” he added.

  Cody was surprised that the man knew that about her.

  “Heavy doses like that put most people to sleep,” Jake continued doggedly. “And even bodyguards have to sleep. She’s had one horse injured. What if it happens again?”

  “It already has.”

  “What? When?”

  Cody told him when. Jake realized with a start that it was the night they’d returned from Galveston. No wonder her bodyguard had been at the front door as soon as she arrived. It angered him that he’d rushed to judgment and ignored her for two weeks, when she had such trouble. He’d failed her. It really disturbed him, knowing that. He felt guilty.

  “Somebody injured another of her palominos?” Jake persisted.

  “No. Her saddle horse. Deep cuts on his flanks, just like the other one, and another visit from the vet to stitch him up and give him antibiotics.”

  “Damn. She must be worrying about the other one of those two palominos that she breeds, Silver. She loves him,” Jake said heavily. “Gold is still recuperating. And her stable isn’t all that secure.”

  “That isn’t a problem anymore. Ren Colter sent over a man with two horse trailers to get Gold and Silver the day after the saddle horse was injured, and he had them both brought straight to his ranch. You know what sort of men he has, and how much security he deploys on his ranch. Also,” he added with a chuckle, “he still has J.C. Calhoun working for him.”

  “I get it.” Jake relaxed a little. “Do you think it’s one of her cowboys doing it?”

  “If I did, I couldn’t tell you, Mr. McGuire,” Cody said. “I can’t discuss an ongoing investigation.”

  “Couldn’t you pretend I’m one of your deputies and tell me anyway?”

  Cody chuckled. “Afraid not.”

  “Then you don’t mind if I ask Ida?” he returned.

  Cody smiled to himself. “I have no control over Mrs. Merridan,” he said.

  “She’s not what she seems,” Jake said quietly.

  “I noticed.”

  Jake didn’t like that note in the sheriff’s voice. Ida was very attractive... “Well, thanks for telling me what you could.”

  “No problem.”

  Jake hung up and went out to his limousine, phoning his driver on the way. Fred came running out of the house behind him, shrugging into a jacket and fastening his shirt. He was new to the job. Doing okay so far, though, Jake thought.

  He opened the door for Jake, panting from the supreme effort to wake up and dress in a flash.

  “You’ll get used to it,” Jake told him with a sardonic grin. “I’m impetuous.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Take a minute to finish getting dressed,” Jake said before he closed the door. “I’ve got a few texts to send before we go.”

  The driver chuckled. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

  Jake sat in the back seat, idly pulling up screens and sending text messages to two managers about problems at the companies he headed. By the time he finished, his driver was inside, cranking the car. Fred was still adjusting to his impetuous boss. His former driver had quit rather suddenly, citing a sick relative back home in Montana. This one had come through an agency, but he seemed trustworthy, and he was an excellent driver.

  “Where are we going, Mr. McGuire?” he asked.

  “Ida Merridan’s place,” he said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  * * *

  BELATEDLY, JAKE TEXTED Ida and asked if it was all right for him to come over. He had something to discuss with her.

  She didn’t answer. He stared at the screen, wondering if she was avoiding him because he’d ignored her for so long, or if she was in trouble, or if she’d gone riding. He knew she took her saddle horse out when she wasn’t hurting too much. She could be out on her property. That worried him. Her ex-husband had made threats. He should have been looking out for her. More and more, he felt responsible for her. She was more vulnerable than any woman he’d ever known. He didn’t like it, but he couldn’t help caring. He didn’t trust women. Not even Ida. Especially Ida.

  * * *

  HER JAGUAR WAS sitting in the driveway. Nobody seemed to be around. The driver opened the do
or for him, and Jake went up on the porch and knocked.

  Nothing stirred inside. He paused, not certain what he was going to do next, when a shadow moved inside.

  There was the sound of a cane, and he saw Ida coming slowly down the hall to the front door. She opened it.

  “You look like hell,” he said abruptly.

  “Thanks,” she bit off. “You look charming yourself.”

  He turned to the driver. “Go read something. I’ll page you when I’m ready to go.”

  The driver laughed. “Yes, sir.”

  Jake entered and closed the door behind him. He propped Ida’s cane by the door, picked her up and started for the living room.

  “I didn’t...” she began indignantly.

  He bent and kissed her eyes shut. “Hush,” he said softly.

  She was startled by the tenderness, something she’d never really had from any man except this one, and tears stung her china-blue eyes, overflowing.

  He sat down in a big, cushy armchair with Ida in his arms and proceeded to kiss all the tears away. Which only made them fall faster.

  “Now, now,” he said gently. “What’s been going on over here?” he added, pretending innocence.

  “Somebody came over here and took something like a quirt to my best saddle horse, Rory,” she choked. “His poor flanks had deep cuts. I called the sheriff. He’s investigating. But I know it’s Bailey. He called me last night, again, and said I could pay him off or there might be more little accidents!”

  “Damned idiot,” he muttered.

  “I told the sheriff. He’s going to get a warrant for Bailey’s phone records.” She looked up at Jake with wet eyes. “I was so worried about Silver and Gold, even though Gold seems to be healing well...”

  “We can take them to my place,” he said and waited for her to tell him what he already knew.

  “That’s so kind of you,” she choked. “But Ren Colter had them taken to his ranch. He has state-of-the-art security. Bailey would be crazy to go over there and make trouble.”

  “He would,” Jake agreed. “Ren has J.C. Calhoun on the payroll.” He shook his head. “Not a man you’d want to meet in a dark alley if you had bad intentions. He’s calmed down a bit since he married, but he’s still a force to reckon with when he’s on the job.”

  “So I’ve heard.” She let her cheek lower to Jake’s chest and she forced her painful body to relax. She closed her eyes with a sigh. She always felt so safe with him.

  “Did your ex-husband admit that he’d hurt the horses?” he asked at her ear, his chin on the top of her head.

  “He didn’t come right out and say anything,” she said wearily. “But he did mention that he had mob ties and that he wasn’t afraid to use them, despite my bodyguard and the hick sheriff. Those were his exact words.” She looked up at him. “Mr. Banks is no hick sheriff. He’s a good man. I don’t think he believed me at first, but he listens. I think I convinced him.”

  “You did,” he said sourly.

  Her eyebrows arched. “How did you know that?” she asked suspiciously. “How in the world did you know?”

  Jake’s face drew up as he searched for an answer that wouldn’t get him thrown out of the house.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “YOU CALLED SHERIFF BANKS,” she accused.

  He made a face. “Well, I was concerned,” he said curtly. “It finally dawned on me that your bodyguard wouldn’t have been practically waiting on the doorstep when we got home, without a good reason.”

  That went right by her, that insinuation of jealousy. “Yes. My best saddle horse had been injured, with deep cuts on his flanks, just like Gold. He came to tell me about it.”

  “Your ex-husband needs a few more years in stir, just to give him the idea that he hasn’t the right to maul helpless animals,” he said.

  “He doesn’t care. Not about animals or people. I don’t think he’s capable of it. I spoke to a friend from college who’s a forensic psychologist. She says there are people who have no sense of compassion, who don’t feel sympathy. They’re self-centered. The only feelings they’re concerned with are their own.” She shook her head. “It’s a hard concept to wrap your head around.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. His lean hand smoothed up and down her bare arm unconsciously. “When I was overseas, we had a guy in our unit who worked as a sniper. He laughed when he killed an insurgent. Laughed.” He sighed, his face hard with anger. “I killed men. I had to, to save my own men. But I never laughed. It’s hard to live with, taking a life. Any life.”

  “We’re raised to believe that killing is a sin,” she said. “Then they put people in uniforms, send them overseas, give them a gun and tell them to kill people. It’s a painful contradiction. Some people just snap.”

  “They really do,” he said. He leaned back in the chair, shifting Ida into a more comfortable position against him. “We had an officer who watched two of his men get torn up by gunfire in a night attack. He ran into the gunfire, screaming, before any of us could stop him. He was killed instantly.”

  Her small hand smoothed over the soft fabric of his shirt. Her eyes, wide-open, looked across his broad chest to the window. “Everybody has a breaking point,” she said. “Poor man. Did he have family?”

  “A wife and a new baby, a son. He was so excited when the baby was born. He stopped total strangers to show them the digital images of the little boy.” He drew in a short breath. “What a hell of a way to die.”

  “Yes.”

  His big hand smoothed over hers, where it lay on his chest. “Did you want children?”

  “Oh, very much,” she said quietly. “With my first husband. He wasn’t particularly handsome, you see, but he had wonderful qualities. A child with such a parent would have been blessed. But that was never meant to be. With Bailey, I used birth control from the beginning. He said that he didn’t want children. When we were first married, I was tempted to forgo the pills. Thank God I didn’t!”

  He could feel the torment in her. She was so different from the person he thought he knew months ago.

  “Do you want children?” she asked absently.

  His heart jumped. He’d wanted them with Mina, wanted them almost desperately. He drew in a breath. “I did,” he said finally.

  She smiled sadly. “With Mina,” she guessed.

  There was a cold hesitation. “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked...”

  “It’s all right,” he said, surprised at her empathy.

  “I’m a private person, too, as a rule, Jake,” she said, using his name for the first time.

  He was surprised at the hunger it kindled in him. Surprised and shocked.

  There was a long silence. His big hand smoothed gently over her short hair while they just sat quietly together.

  Jake had been something of a playboy in his younger days. He still liked taking beautiful women around with him. This woman in his lap was beautiful, but she was also fragile and gentle and kind. He’d taken her at face value, as so many other people in the community had. He felt the long-fingered hand flat on his broad, muscular chest with disturbing sensitivity. He felt her sigh. He didn’t need to look at her face to know that she trusted him. It must be very hard, he decided, for a woman with her past to even let a man hold her. It touched him, in unexpected ways.

  “Have you had lunch?” he asked abruptly.

  “No,” she said. “I was going to make a sandwich...”

  He lifted his head and tilted her chin up. “Still up for some fried oysters?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said, her blue eyes wide and curious as they looked into his silver ones.

  He pursed his sensual lips. “I know a great little place in St. Augustine.”

  Both her eyebrows arched. “Florida? St. Augustine, Florida?”

  He shrugged. “The jet make
s good time. It’s comfortable. There’s even a bed, if you need to lie down.”

  Her lips parted on a soft breath. “It would be a lot of trouble.”

  He smiled.

  She smiled back, enchanted.

  He got up and gently set her back on her feet. “Then grab your purse and a sweater and we’ll go.”

  She hesitated. She was wearing jeans and clogs and a blue-and-white buttoned blouse. “I should change...”

  He chuckled. “It’s just lunch. You might notice that I’m not wearing a suit.”

  He wasn’t. He had on jeans and boots and a nice chambray shirt that had been soft under her fingers.

  She grinned. “Okay.”

  * * *

  HE WAITED WHILE she told Laredo she was going to be gone for the afternoon. He wished her a pleasant day, nodded at Jake and went back to work.

  Jake put her beside him in the back of the limo and instructed his driver to take them to the airport. He punched numbers into his cell phone and called his pilot, having him meet them at the airport.

  Ida was in awe of him. Even her first husband, who owned a business, hadn’t been so efficient at getting things done so simply. She mentioned it.

  “I grew up being regimented. My father was career military,” he said a little stiffly. “He retired as a captain in the army and came back here to manage the ranch when his father died. It wasn’t much of a ranch, deeply in debt, and my father only had his military pension to keep the wolf from the door. He didn’t like working cattle. Got his hands dirty, you see.” He smiled sardonically. “My mother’s father had the money. She became an oil heiress when he died. I inherited from her.”

  She was fascinated. “Was she kind?”

  He nodded. “Kind and gentle, the sort of woman who kissed bruises and baked cookies.” His face hardened. “My father resented her family’s wealth.”

  She could feel the pain that she saw in his tanned face. “And made her pay for it,” she said without thinking.