Chapter Six
Sheriff Parker Lee eased his gun from its holster and aimed it at Reed. The crowd gasped and backed away, leaving a gap behind Dusty and Reed.
Mona’s heart fluttered and for a moment, she thought her knees would buckle. Reed Bryson had come to her rescue. He’d been her knight in shining armor when the rest of the world only wanted to watch the fun.
How could she let the sheriff shoot him? Her head swam with the absurdity of it all, like being on the set of a bad western.
“Hey, don’t point that thing at me too.” Dusty squirmed in Reed’s hold. “How do I know you won’t miss?”
“I never miss,” the sheriff said, his tone low and controlled.
That’s what Mona was afraid of.
Reed shook his head, his lips curling in a bitter twist. “Put the gun down, Sheriff, and I’ll let him go.”
“Fair enough. I’m a reasonable man.” He dropped his arm, his finger still on the trigger, even though it was pointed at the ground.
Mona didn’t trust him. Something about the hard look in his eyes spelled danger.
Reed shoved Dusty forward and raised his hands. “I’m not armed. You have no reason to shoot.”
“You’re a black belt in karate. I’d consider that armed.” Lee glanced at Braxton. “Cuff him.”
The deputy moved forward with the cuffs out in front of him.
Desperation swelled in Mona. She couldn’t afford to lose both Dusty and Reed. That would leave only Jesse and Fernando to help her run the six-thousand-acre ranch. Hell, she might as well just help the rustlers load the cattle.
When Deputy Braxton came at Reed with the cuffs, Mona flung herself into Reed’s arms. “Oh, thank God you’re okay.” Then she turned to Parker Lee, whose jaw was twitching on one side. “I’ll be pressing charges against Dusty for attacking me, Catalina and Jesse.”
“You’ll have to do that at the station, after I book Mr. Bryson.”
“But you can’t arrest him. He was only protecting me and Jesse.”
“Just watch me.” She held on to Reed’s hand, refusing to let the deputy cuff it.
“Move aside or I’ll arrest you for obstruction of justice.”
“Parker Lee, you wouldn’t know justice if it hit you square in the face.” Mona’s lips pressed into a thin line.
The sheriff held out his own set of cuffs. “Braxton, if she doesn’t move, cuff her too.”
Reed grasped her shoulders, turning her toward him. He stared into her face, his hands sliding, warm and reassuring, down her arms. “It’s okay, baby. I can handle this.”
“But he hates me. I should never have involved you in my problems.”
“If I didn’t want to help, I wouldn’t be here.” His hands dropped to hers. “Now go home. I’ll be there as soon as I can post bail.” He set her aside and dug his hand into his pocket.
“Hold it right there.” The sheriff’s gun was up again and pointed at Reed’s chest.
Mona’s breath caught in her throat. Was Parker stupid enough to shoot the man with a dozen witnesses standing around?
Reed pulled his hand out of his pocket slowly and held up his truck keys, a tight smile tugging his lips. “Afraid I’ll pull my keys on you, Sheriff?”
The crowd of onlookers laughed.
A flush stole under Lee’s skin. “You won’t need your keys where you’re goin’.”
“Since the streets of Prairie Rock aren’t safe, I’d like Jesse to take my truck back to the Rancho Linda.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the streets of this town.” Sheriff Lee’s back stiffened.
Catalina snorted. “Sure as hell is, when the sheriff arrests the wrong man.”
Mona agreed with a nod.
Reed held out his wrists to the deputy. “I’m just glad to see the law making the town safe for its citizens. There’s nothing like doing what’s right and honest by the people who elect you. Is there?”
Braxton slammed the cuffs against Reed’s skin.
Though Reed’s face didn’t change, Mona winced for him. That had to hurt. But Reed wouldn’t give the sheriff or his deputy the satisfaction of knowing.
Her heart swelled for a man who’d been a stranger to her yesterday. From what she could see so far, he was decent, honest and stood up for what was right.
Hell, she’d have to fire him.
He didn’t belong in the middle of her mess. Never mind, that’s what she’d hired him for. Maybe if he were more mercenary, she’d feel better about letting him fight her battles.
Mona sent Jesse back to the ranch and followed the sheriff’s car to the county courthouse that also served as the local jail. Her blood pressure boiled over and the baby was kicking up a storm in protest.
After a couple hours of waiting for Reed to be fingerprinted and for the county judge to set bail, Mona posted the amount with the last bit of money left in her checking account.
A few minutes later, the deputy led Reed out of the cell and removed the cuffs.
As Reed passed Parker Lee, the sheriff said in a low, menacing tone, “Stay out of my town, Bryson.”
Shocked by his threat, Mona got in his face, wondering what the heck she’d seen in him and regretting ever having dated the man. “It’s a free country, Sheriff. You don’t own this town.”
Instead of responding, he touched a hand to her arm, letting it slide down, skimming her breast. “Do you still scream when you make love?”
Mona raised her hand to slap his face, but Reed captured it in his, halting it before it made contact with the smirk on the sheriff’s face.
“Don’t ever touch my fiancée again. Do you understand me?”
The sheriff pulled himself up to his full height of just under six feet, three inches shorter than Reed. “Is that a threat?”
“Consider it sound medical advice.” Reed raised Mona’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss into her palm. “Come on, sweetheart, it smells rotten in here.”
Her heart skipped several beats when his mouth skimmed the overly sensitized inside of her palm. She didn’t resist when Reed pulled her against him. Together they walked out of the building.
Past midnight and exhausted beyond coherence, Mona didn’t argue when Reed took the keys from her hand. He opened the passenger side of the truck, helping her up and into the seat.
Mona left herself in Reed’s hands, laying her head back against the headrest. Let him take charge. All she wanted was to get home, into her pajamas and into her own bed.
“I’ll pay back the bail money tomorrow, when I can get to the bank,” Reed said once he pulled onto the highway.
“Good, I used my mortgage payment to get you out.” Her voice cracked for a moment and then she laughed softly. She couldn’t be in worse financial trouble if she’d tried. The bail money was nothing compared to the fifty thousand she had only thirty days to come up with.
“How bad is it?”
“How bad is what? The rustling situation?” Her head tipped to the side so that she could stare across at him. He really was a handsome man, in a rugged, outdoorsy way. “I hired you, didn’t I?” She looked back to the truck ceiling. “Speaking of which, you’re fired.”
“You can’t fire me when I’m driving you home.”
“You have a point. Then when we get to the house, you’re fired.”
“Why?”
“You don’t belong.”
In the light from the dash, she could see him wince and she felt a stab of guilt in her gut. “You don’t belong in this crazy, mixed-up mess of politics and thieves. I can handle it on my own.” She squeezed her eyes shut at the lie. If she were honest with herself, she’d own up that she was in way over her head and going under for the last count.
“I know how bad the rustling is, how bad off is the ranch?”
“It’s none of your concern.” She pushed a hand through her hair. “You won’t work there after you deliver me to the house.”
“Do you stand the chance of losing it?”
Didn’t he get it? He was fired. Finished, kaput.
And she’d be finished on the ranch without his help. Mona didn’t answer him for a long time, memories of her father riding his favorite buckskin across the range to tend the livestock running through her mind. The few images of her mother were indelibly etched in that ranch house. Would she lose those too if she had to sell?
She closed her eyes to the tears filling them. Who was she kidding? She sighed. “I’d give my right arm to save my home. But I’m not willing to risk others’ lives for something I want.”
“If it’s their choice, why not let them?”
“If something were to happen…Say Jesse was hurt or Fernando or you.” She blinked away the tears and stared across the interior of the truck at the perfect stranger she’d just spilled her guts to. “I couldn’t live with myself if any of you were hurt because I was too stubborn to give in to the pressure.”
“Put it to us and let us make the decision. If we choose to stay, don’t feel guilty.”
“What about when I can’t afford to pay you…?” she asked, her voice fading off.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we have to.”
“That would be now.”
“Why?”
“I found out today that the bank will foreclose on my property if I don’t pay the note in full in thirty days.” She leaned her head against the back of the seat. Could she be more tired?
“That’s why you went to Amarillo?”
“Yes.”
“Any luck finding a new lender?”
“No yesses, just maybes.” She looked across at him. “Did you guys get the fence up today?”
“Yes, for what it’s worth. If the rustlers want to come back, they’ll just drive right through it again.” He debated telling her the rest and gave in. “We found something today.”
Her eyes shot open. “What?”
“A chunk of hair and scalp on the barbed wire, a matchbook and a dog’s paw print.”
Her gaze returned to the road in front of her, she forced her tired brain to massage the meaning of the clues. “So whoever helped steal my cattle got a nasty cut on his head, smokes and owns a dog?”
“That’s pretty much what I figured. The matchbook was from Leon’s Bar.”
“So that’s why you came?”
“I wanted to see if I could find our guy with the cut scalp. I also came because of some troubles we had on the ranch today. Dusty was itching for a fight with Jesse.”
She shook her head. “He used to behave when I was around. I made sure the two weren’t together much. Now I won’t have to worry about that, will I?”
“What’s up with them and Catalina?”
“Dusty knows Jesse has it bad for Catalina and she won’t have anything to do with Jesse.”
“Why?”
“Did you know Catalina is Fernando’s daughter?”
“Fernando and Rosa?”
“That’s right. When we were going to high school, Catalina got it into her head that she’d be better off white instead of Hispanic. So she bleached her hair blond and worked hard to erase her Latino heritage, including her boyfriend, Jesse.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Someone must have hurt her feelings pretty bad. I never got the straight story out of her. She wanted out of Prairie Rock as fast as she could get there.”
“Did she make it?”
“For a few short months she lived in Dallas. But she couldn’t get a decent job with only a high-school education. With housing much more expensive than anything here in Prairie Rock, she couldn’t meet the expenses of living in the big city. Before we knew it, she was back. She’s taking online courses as she can afford it so that she can get a degree and try it all again.”
Reed was quiet for a moment. “I found the man with the cut on his scalp at the bar.”
“Who is he?” Mona sat forward, excitement reviving her tired body.
“I don’t know. He left the bar about the time the fight started. I would have gone after him, but—”
“—you came to my rescue instead.” Mona shook her head. “Did you recognize him?”
“No. He was Latino, needed a haircut and was in his mid-to-late thirties, I’d guess.”
“Fernando visits relatives on other ranches and in Prairie Rock. I’ll ask him to help us locate him.”
“I’m afraid he may be an illegal alien. If that’s the case, he won’t want to be found.”
Mona yawned, her jaw cracking with the force of it. “I’m sorry, that was rude. If I wasn’t so exhausted, I’d say let’s go back and find our guy.” She couldn’t even keep her eyes open, how did she think she’d go hunting a thief when she was already half-dead? The baby had taken its toll on her body for the day.
Reed glanced at her, a smile tipping the corners of his mouth. “Go to sleep. I’ll get you home safe.”
Taking his advice, she leaned back. “You know, you’re easy to look at when you smile.” Did she really say that? Her mind let the answer trail away. “Thanks for rescuing me tonight,” she whispered as she drifted into the blackness of the Texas panhandle prairie.
* * *
“T HANKS FOR rescuing me .” Reed knew his words fell on deaf ears, and he was glad of that. He wasn’t fully ready to admit that this small woman with the heart of a lion had touched him like no one had been able to in a long time. Perhaps never.
He looked at her again. Dark eyelashes fanned against her high cheekbones. Her black hair lay across her shoulders in thick waves, her belly pushing against the blue chambray shirt she wore, making her appear more plump than pregnant.
Reed found himself wanting to reach out and touch her cheek, her shoulder, her breasts and even the swell of her belly carrying another man’s child.
He stared back at the road as a twinge squeezed his chest. A pinch he’d never felt before. “Whose baby is it, Miss Mona?” he whispered into the darkness.
She stirred, her eyes remaining closed. “Can’t tell.”
Reed couldn’t tell if she was really awake when she answered and thought it better not to find out. It was her business, not his.
But why wouldn’t she tell? Was she protecting someone? Or was she afraid that someone would take her baby away from her?
Did the father know? Did it matter who it belonged to? Despite her reckless insistence on being in the saddle just as much as any of her hands, she cared about the child growing inside her.
Her hand rested on her stomach, unconsciously protective. Mona Grainger would love her baby no matter who the father was. Just like his mother. Even if it meant keeping the secret of its lineage from everyone, including the father and the baby.
The world lumped into Reed’s gut. If she married, would she take care to choose a man who’d love the child no matter what, or would the kid go through life wondering what the hell he’d done to his father to make him hate him so much?
What did Reed care? He probably wouldn’t stay around long enough to find out. Once he resolved the rustling situation, he’d have to find another job. Maybe he’d go back to Chicago. His father—no, stepfather—could care less about him. When he came back to the panhandle, he’d come to see his mother and she was improving daily. If he left, she’d be well cared for by his stepfather. A fact he’d had to accept, despite his own interactions with the man so many years ago.
Reed glanced back at Mona. Like his mother, she’d apparently fallen in with the consequences of the wrong man, got knocked up and had to live with her actions. His mother had suffered through Reed’s childhood, always playing mediator between him and his father. He’d seen the pain in her eyes, knew how much it hurt her that the two men in her life couldn’t get along. Would Mona be the same?
The woman already struggled with a big enough burden handling a ranch on her own. The right husband could help her with the daily operations, but could he help her with raising a child?
The porch light served as a beacon in the sea of dark prairie grass. He hadn’t realized how tired he was until he pulled into the driveway.
Mona had slid to the side, her head resting on his shoulder. When he turned off the engine, she didn’t awaken. Instead, she snuggled closer, pressing her cheek against his chest. He touched a hand to her shoulder and shook her.
The poor woman was so tired, his shaking had no effect on her.
However, his hand on her arm was having an effect on him. Mona Grainger was warm, soft and…and entirely too trusting. His thoughts veered into inappropriate waters for an employee. Maybe she was right, and he should leave.
Reed struggled between shouting to wake her and leaving her to sleep in the truck. Finally, he scooted her across the bench seat, lifted her into his arms and carried her into the house.
Walking past his assigned room, he stepped into the master bedroom with the king-size four-poster bed, draped in a solid white, fluffy comforter. When he laid her down, he stepped back with every intention of leaving the room as quickly as possible.
But she still wore her boots. He couldn’t leave her to sleep in her dirty boots on that white bed.
If he were smart he would. But he hadn’t been very smart where Mona Grainger was concerned. If he had, he’d never have agreed to take the job in the first place.
Lifting one leg, he eased off her boot and sock, marveling at how delicate her foot was, the fine bones surely too fragile to carry her about all day long, riding, roping and dealing with redneck cowboys. Her shirt had crept up, exposing the jeans she wore unbuttoned and half unzipped to allow for the slowly expanding belly, now a smooth curve.
Reed was familiar with pregnant women from his time working for the Chicago police. Once, he’d come close to having to deliver a baby in the back seat of a taxi cab. Thankfully, the Emergency Medical Services arrived in time to do the job.
But he remembered the joy of watching that baby being born. The miracle of life in the making and the love the woman had for a little person she’d held in her arms for the first time that day. What would it be like to watch the birthing of Mona’s baby? Would she have someone with her when the time came?
“I’ll take care of her, senor, ” a voice said from behind him.
Reed spun, caught in the act of staring at the boss as she slept.
Rosa Garcia smiled. “She’s an angel, isn’t she?”
Had she read his mind? Could she see he’d been thinking the same thing, longing to touch Mona’s soft cheek, the swell of her breasts and the curve of her hips? With heat rising up his throat, Reed dropped the sock he’d been holding and laid Mona’s leg softly on the bed.
Tomorrow, after a good night’s rest, he’d pack his bags and leave.