Thirteen #4
“Perhaps so,” she said.
Raines came quickly to join them after a signal from his boss. “Take our friend back where you found her,” he told Raines.
“I will be in touch.” His eyes met Raines’s; they narrowed and glittered. “If anything of this sort, which ended in our friend
being arrested, happens one more time, you really will be wearing a rosebush,” he assured Raines.
Josie shook her head. “A prickly pear cactus would suit him much better.”
Raines and Eduardo were both surprised and started laughing. She laughed along with them. She nodded to the man she had been
introduced to as Duarte and followed Raines out the door. She thought what a waste it was, for a man so intelligent and personable
to end up in such a business where he would likely be killed or spend the rest of his life in a federal prison. Her conscience
twinged because of the certainty that she would be involved in helping that along. On the other hand, drug dealers are the
most dangerous people alive, and they could not be allowed to act without restraint.
John came to get Josie at her motel. Obviously, he hadn’t wanted to come. In fact, he had tried to get one of the cowboys
to come instead except that his mother chided him and said that it was silly of him to treat Josie that way when she’d obviously
had enough already of being badly handled. He didn’t mention that she should be badly handled because she was a criminal,
and he was feeling things for her that he was resisting with all his heart. What he felt for Josie was beginning to become
very noticeable when he was around her, and he was uncertain if he could keep up the charade. He was trying, though.
He studied her as she climbed into the truck. “Pity it isn’t still Halloween,” he murmured dryly. “We might have gotten to
see you ride your broom.”
“Ohh, that was a low blow,” she replied.
He said it probably was. “I just can’t figure you out,” he added.
“You don’t need to,” she said. “I won’t be here that much longer. I met the man who’s going to purchase the property from
us tonight, and he seems very interested. In fact, he’s coming to look at the purebred bulls you’re selling at the treaty
sale. He’s very interested. He runs purebred Santa Gertrudis on his ranch in Mexico.”
He paused at the stop sign and looked at her intently. “He owns property in Mexico?” he said.
She glowered at him. “He’s not a drug dealer,” she lied, keeping up the facade of her masquerade. It wouldn’t do to have John
get suspicious and blow the whole setup. “He’s just a cattleman looking for property in the United States.”
“Certain of that, are you?” he asked.
“Listen, I’ve been in real estate for several years. I know the difference between a buyer and a drug dealer.”
He said, “It’s been my experience that drug dealers don’t generally look like drug dealers.”
“Ohh, known a lot of them, have we?” she said sarcastically.
He was quiet. He was also tired of fighting what he was beginning to feel for her. It wasn’t comfortable, especially with
Phillip James foaming at the mouth and looking for soft targets. He thought of Josie lying in a pool of blood and it chilled
him all over. “Listen,” he said earnestly, “while we’re gone in New York for Odalie’s debut, don’t leave the ranch, not for
any reason,” he said solemnly.
“Why?” she asked, puzzled. “Do you think I’ll get lost and not be able to find my way back?” she replied.
He stopped the truck on a long branch of dark country road.
His big hand reached out and brushed back a strand of hair away from her mouth.
She tingled all over and tried not to let it show.
“Tony Garza says Phillip James is looking for soft targets. You don’t technically belong to the family, but that doesn’t mean you’re not involved with us.
We have good men on the payroll, even a couple of ex-feds who are dead shots.
But you mustn’t give him any opportunity to snatch you,” he added.
“So nice of you to care,” she said lightly, trying to sound sophisticated, when actually she glowed inside at the words.
“I don’t want you hurt,” he said suddenly, and his face was solemn. “Stay on the ranch. Don’t wander, and never go anywhere
alone, even here.”
He was really worried. It made her feel strange inside; young and carefree and cared for. These were feelings she hadn’t enjoyed
in years. Especially not since her mother was alive. But of course this was nothing like a mother’s concern. It was something
totally different.
“I’ll be careful,” she promised.
“Carrying that weapon around with you is still a good idea,” he added.
“Yes,” she said, and the one word carried a level of confidence that convinced.
Unexpectedly, he caught her fingers with his and twined them together. “Do you like to fish?” he asked.
She laughed, “What a question!”
“Do you?” he persisted.
“I love to fish,” she said. “But I don’t like fly fishing or trout fishing. I like to just sit on a stream with a cane pole
with a hook, line and sinker and catch whatever I can.”
He chuckled, “That’s how I like to fish, except once in a while Dad and I like to go down to the coast and fish for blue Marlin
or red snapper.”
“I’ve never gone deep-sea fishing,” she said. “I think you have to be pretty strong for that and I’m not.”
“Well, you can watch me fish.” He glanced at her and grinned. “And I’ll let you clean what I catch.”
She laughed delightedly. “That might be fun,” she said.
“Next year, then,” he replied. “In the spring, when all of this drama is over.”
Her heart jumped. He actually sounded serious, and the fingers so warm and strong around her own closed even closer as they
neared the ranch house. She felt odd. It was a nice feeling; although what might happen between now and next spring was up
in the air and worrisome.
John was surprised by his own reaction to her. She was such a conundrum. One minute she seemed like a street-smart girl who
knew all the angles, and the next like a shy young woman who barely went out of the house. Surely, the answer was somewhere
in between. There was this unfortunate choice of professions that had landed her in what didn’t really sound like real estate
at all, but in something that was against the law. He wasn’t sure whether she was a good girl or a bad girl, but he sensed
something about her that made him feel warm inside, that made him feel happy as he hadn’t felt for years while he mooned over
his brother’s wife. Even in the hopeless knowledge that she could never love him, ever since Josie had stormed into his life,
he felt differently. It wasn’t a bad feeling at all and even the worst of people could be reformed if they wanted to be. He
was going to make sure that she wanted to be reformed. He was thinking ahead; no longer behind.
The treaty sale had only a few buyers, so Josie’s acquaintance, Eduardo, was able to match and surpass the only other bid—an online one—on the small lot of purebred bulls.
Josie’s new friend was wearing expensive boots that probably cost as much as a luxury car, and a Stetson that would have bankrupted a rodeo cowboy.
With that he wore designer jeans, a long blue chambray shirt and a sheepskin jacket like the one John liked to wear.
He was so gorgeous that even Mercedes and Heather came out into the yard just to look at him.
Josie was amused at the attention he drew and surprised that it seemed to make no difference to him at all.
He was totally oblivious to the attention he attracted.
He and Cole were talking at the fence. A handful of other cattlemen had come but not to bid on the purebred young bulls; they
bought some of Cole’s older bulls. Duarte was curious about why Raines had been so impatient to get his hands on these young
bulls and, in fact, had almost begged Duarte to purchase them. The man never did anything without an ulterior motive. Velasquez
wondered what his motive was. Raines had already volunteered to drive the bulls all the way down to Velasquez’s ranch with
the help of two other men. It was probably just business, but something about the man’s demeanor disturbed Velasquez. All
his instincts were standing up yelling at him.
“There’s nothing like a Santa Gertrudis bull,” Cole told the other man.
Velasquez chuckled. “As I have often remarked to other people, who think I must be crazy.”
“Obviously, you weren’t talking to cattlemen,” Cole chuckled.
“Absolutely,” Velasquez replied. He was scowling. “Do they not seem unusually—what is the word?—chubby to you?” he asked.
“And they seem uncomfortable, as if they are ill. But they do not look ill.”
Cole frowned. “My foreman mentioned that they’ve been having some stomach issues. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about,
but we can have our veterinarian give them a once-over before you take delivery, if you want them. It could be scours. If
so, it will need to be treated promptly.”
“Oh, now, boss,” Raines said quickly, coming up beside them, “it’s probably just the cold. You know how young animals get
when it’s too cold or too hot. They just have all sorts of little health issues. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
Cole and Velasquez exchanged a knowing look, but they gave nothing away.
“Of course,” Velasquez said easily. “Raines, go and arrange for transportation with your men. Make sure there is adequate
ventilation and protection in the transport. It is a long drive to the border at El Paso.”
“You bet, boss!” Raines said, smiling with something like relief, and he went toward the car he’d come in.
“You don’t trust your man,” Cole said when Raines had gone.
“I trust no one,” Velasquez replied. “Something is wrong here. The animals seem not only restless but in a state of discomfort.
Do you not agree?”
Cole, whose family had been ranchers for generations, agreed at once.
“Could you arrange for your veterinarian to check them over before they leave this ranch?” Velasquez asked. “They are very