Chapter 23
In the light of dawn, the main house of the Double T came into view. Jameson’s gut had churned the whole ride over. Actually, it hadn’t stopped churning since the previous evening’s encounter with Dray.
A man on a horse stepped out of the shadows of the barn and pointed a rifle at Jameson.
Jameson tugged on Cougar’s reins, but the horse was already coming to a halt, had probably sensed the danger before Jameson had.
The vaquero with the rifle didn’t waver in his aim at Jameson’s chest. It was still too shadowed for Jameson to determine which vaquero this was, but he wasn’t surprised that Cheno and Beckett still had men on guard duty.
The threats to the Double T may have diminished slightly with word of Beckett’s kindness and charity spreading, but the danger was still too widespread to let down their guard.
“Jameson Noble,” he called out to the vaquero. “Here to speak with Beckett.”
The vaquero slowly lowered his gun. “Jameson?” He tipped up his hat, revealing the face of Pedro, one of the men Jameson had worked with during his time on the ranch.
Jameson nodded at the livestock barn down the path. “Beckett in the barn?”
Pedro hesitated, then spoke in halting English. “He’s still at the house.”
Jameson nudged Cougar in the direction of the house that was really more of a palace in size.
The red-tile roof contrasted the white stucco walls and redbrick trim.
The three-story tower rose above everything, even the tall palm trees that grew alongside the house.
He’d always admired the construction and layout of the home, which was done to perfection, especially to allow for maximum cooling during the hottest parts of the day.
He rounded the circular driveway and passed by the front arched entryway.
It was gated and locked at this early-morning hour.
Instead, he rode to the back and dismounted near the service entry where the household staff came and went, most living in the small community of thatched houses located near the Sagebrush River beyond the barns.
As he entered the lower level, a few staff raised their brows at him, but no one questioned him as he headed up the stairs to the first floor. He stopped a maid and learned Beckett was still in the dining room having breakfast.
Jameson had only been in the main house one other time, but he followed the scent of coffee and bacon to a room off the enclosed courtyard.
As he reached the open door, he didn’t bother halting or announcing himself.
Instead, he stalked in and locked his gaze on Beckett, sitting at the end of the dining room table with his wife to one side and Sunshine on the other.
Beckett stood and had his revolver out and pointed at Jameson in the next heartbeat.
Sunshine gasped and pressed a hand to her chest. The fair-haired, middle-aged woman was like a mother to Beckett and lived up to her name with her sweet personality and bright outlook.
Her husband had been one of the owners of the Double T alongside Beckett’s father and had died about a year ago, leaving the ranch to Beckett—along with a whole list of stipulations that Beckett was still grappling with.
At the table across from Sunshine, another beautiful woman—this one much younger and raven-haired—watched Jameson with wide, pretty eyes.
Hyacinth was her name, and she was the sister of Violet, who had married Jameson’s oldest brother, Sterling.
Jameson had only seen Hyacinth from a distance once or twice while he’d been living in Colorado.
Somehow, she’d ended up married to Beckett, and from what Jameson had been able to tell before leaving the Double T, the two were not only in love but perfect for each other.
By the light of the glowing candelabra at the center of the table, Beckett’s gaze was hard and menacing. But only for a moment. As he took in Jameson, his shoulders relaxed, and he lowered his gun. “Jameson Noble. Fancy seeing you here today.”
What did that mean?
Jameson was too worked up to care. He hadn’t ridden hard for the past few hours to make small talk with Beckett.
No, he’d come because he didn’t know who else to turn to.
He desperately needed to figure out how to get Dray out of Lottie’s life, and he wasn’t too proud to grovel at Beckett’s feet for help.
Beckett lowered himself back into his chair and then nodded at the place on the opposite end of the table that was already set. For whom? Did Beckett have a guest? “Join us for breakfast.”
“I need help with Lottie.” The words rushed out full of passion.
In the process of reaching for his wife’s hand, Beckett froze. “Is she in trouble?”
“Yes.”
Beckett pushed away from the table and stood once more, his expression turning grave as he studied Jameson more carefully. “Her neighbor attacking her again?”
“Worse.” Jameson’s pulse thudded in his chest as painfully now as it had throughout the night while he’d lain in the barn—instead of the bed in the house. No one had questioned his staying away. Not now that they knew Lottie was still married to Dray.
He hadn’t been able to think about anything except the previous night when he’d slept beside her, listened to her breathing, felt the warmth of her body near his, and reveled in the knowledge that she was his wife.
His heart had wrenched from his chest at how rapidly that had all changed, how she wasn’t his anymore and might never be. He’d been miserable during the long hours in the haymow, imagining her accepting Dray back at the ranch.
Jameson had been so worked up that he hadn’t been able to lie still and had taken to pacing the length of the barn. Even then, his mind had kept picturing the despair on Lottie’s face as she’d asked him about divorce and whether it was wrong.
Deep inside, Jameson knew her marriage was a lifelong commitment and couldn’t be dissolved just because he’d fallen in love with her. She probably did need to give Dray the opportunity to change his ways and be a good father to the boys and a good husband to her.
That’s why Jameson had packed his few belongings and clothing into his saddlebags when he’d left. He knew that if he stayed at her ranch, he’d just make things harder for her as she tried to figure out what to do next.
At the same time, the warning was still ringing in the back of his mind that something wasn’t right with the whole situation—that Dray was up to no good and didn’t deserve a second chance.
Of course, Jameson could be all wrong in his suspicions.
His jealousy and misery might be clouding his judgment of Dray.
Because the truth was, Jameson had never experienced such panic and frustration and helplessness, not even when he’d lost Sue Ellen.
He was in anguish, and that anguish had driven him the whole time he’d been riding to the Double T to talk to Beckett.
“What’s going on?” Beckett was watching him, probably seeing his distress.
Even if he couldn’t see it, there was no sense in hiding it. “Lottie’s lousy excuse of a husband showed up last night.”
Beckett’s brow rose. “I thought he was dead.”
“Turns out he’s alive and well.”
“Does that invalidate your marriage to her?” Leave it to Beckett to get right to the point.
“I love her.” Jameson’s statement came out hard and possessive. “And Dray doesn’t care about her and just wants her ranch and money.”
Beckett’s eyes narrowed. “I haven’t heard one good thing about that fellow. Word is, he was always leaving her and the kids.”
“He’s been using her all along, and now he’s threatening to take her boys away.”
Silence fell for a few heartbeats, as if Beckett were taking in the gravity of the situation. “What’s Charlotte saying about all this?”
“She’s afraid of Dray.”
“Then let’s go teach Dray a lesson.” Beckett started toward the door.
Hassling Dray would probably only make matters worse. “She doesn’t think she has grounds to divorce him.”
Beckett halted. “From what I can tell, she has plenty.”
“That’s why I need your help.” Again, Jameson’s voice held all his desperation.
“You really love her, don’t you?” Beckett was studying him carefully again.
“For the love of all that’s holy, Beckett. If you don’t do it for me, then do it for her. She’s your sister.”
“Whoa.” Beckett held up a hand. “I never said I won’t help you. And of course I’ll help Charlotte.”
Jameson dragged in a breath. “I know. I’m sorry. I just need to figure out how to keep her.”
Hyacinth had taken a sip of coffee and now set the cup down on the saucer. “I don’t know much about this Dray or his background, so forgive me if my question is out of place. But where does he go when he leaves Charlotte and the children?”
“No one knows.” Jameson didn’t even know where the fellow was staying now that he was back in the area, although with a little asking around, he’d likely find out.
Sunshine nodded at Hyacinth. “I think Hyacinth is onto something. We need to find out more about Dray’s background and what he’s really up to. For all we know, he’s a criminal.”
Jameson wasn’t feeling better about everything yet, but he was relieved that Beckett, Hyacinth, and Sunshine seemed to be seeing the urgency of trying to discover more about Dray.
“Where do we start?” Jameson asked.
Sunshine spoke first. “We’ll send a telegram to the private investigator I use from time to time, and I’ll hire him to find all the information on Dray that he can.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” The offer was really nice of her. But how long would it take? By the time the investigator compiled information on Dray, would it be too late to stop Dray from bribing Lottie?
“I’ll ride into town this morning,” Beckett offered, clearly sensing Jameson’s urgency. “I’ll do some digging for information there.”
“I’ll go with you.” Jameson knew he wouldn’t be able to rest until the matter was settled. “I’m afraid if Dray finds out we’re investigating him, he’ll put more pressure on Lottie to take him back.”
Beckett started toward the door again. “It’s obvious Lottie loves you.”