Courting the Enemy (12 page)

“What do you think that means? Was it just a warning?”

“Or maybe some kids up to mischief,” he suggested.

“If this was the only thing, maybe,” she said thoughtfully. “But coupled with the incidents in the past, I don’t think so.”

“Could have been it was meant to throw suspicion on Grady, so they wanted you to find it right off,” he said.

“That makes sense,” she agreed. “But who would gain anything by that? Has anyone else ever expressed interest in buying the ranch? Are the Oldhams in any position to buy it to protect the water rights?”

“Not unless they’ve had a sudden windfall,” he said. “Besides, that agreement worked out years ago is airtight. They don’t have anything to worry about.”

“What about Maggie Fletcher?” Karen asked reluctantly.

Caleb’s father sighed. “Ah, yes, Maggie. Now there’s a sad situation. Her father was expecting her to pair up with Caleb. He wanted to see the two ranches joined. I don’t know which of them was more disappointed when Caleb chose you. I know her father blamed her, told her she wasn’t woman enough to catch Caleb. I always thought the way he treated her was downright cruel.”

“Would she hate me enough to try to ruin the ranch?”

“
She
wouldn’t, but that father of hers is another story. I wouldn’t put anything past Jack Fletcher. I told Caleb to keep an eye on him when those last
incidents took place, but you know my son. He didn’t want to believe it. More likely, he just wanted to believe Grady was behind it.”

This wasn’t the first time that Karen had gotten the feeling that the animosity between Caleb and Grady ran deeper than one man’s desire to own land belonging to the other.

“Was there more going on between Caleb and Grady than I know about?” she asked.

Mr. Hanson hesitated. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“The feelings and bitterness seemed to run awfully deep, at least on Caleb’s part. Was it just about the ranch?”

“The ranch is the only thing I know about,” Caleb’s father insisted, but something in his voice suggested he was holding back.

That false note lingered in her head long after she’d hung up the phone. When Grady arrived, she poured him a cup of coffee before he could protest, then gestured toward a chair.

“I need to get to the bottom of something,” she said as he regarded her warily.

“Okay.”

“How well did you and Caleb know each other?”

“We didn’t,” Grady said tersely.

“Oh, come on. You must have. I know you contacted him more than once about buying the ranch.”

“That doesn’t mean I knew him, just that I had my lawyer make repeated inquiries.”

She regarded him skeptically. “You never even met?”

“Never.”

“But he hated you,” she said. “Hate that deep
doesn’t come from some intellectual dispute over a piece of land.”

“Some people are passionate about what’s theirs,” Grady countered.

She studied him intently. “There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there? You’re as tight-lipped about this as Carl Hanson.”

He regarded her with surprise but not dismay. “You asked him about this?”

“Just this morning. He wouldn’t answer me, either.”

“No, I imagine he wouldn’t,” Grady said, his expression wry.

“What’s
that
supposed to mean?”

“Can’t you drop this? It’s not important. If Caleb had wanted you to know, he would have shared it with you. The same with Carl.”

“Well, you’re here and they’re not,” she said with a hint of exasperation. “Tell me, Grady. Why did my husband have it in for you? Why was he so determined that you not get this land?”

“That’s easy,” he said, though he didn’t meet her gaze. “Because it was his and he was possessive.”

“You’re talking about the land, but it went beyond that. I can see it in your eyes.”

“You’re imagining things.”

Karen lost patience. “Dammit, Grady, tell me. Was it about a woman? Did you and Caleb fight over some woman?”

Grady sighed heavily. “Not the way you mean,” he said finally. “And it wasn’t me.”

“You’re talking in riddles,” she accused.

His lips curved slightly at that. “Apparently it’s a
family trait. My grandfather does that, too, when he doesn’t want to answer a question.”

“Well, I intend to keep coming back to this one until you give me a straight answer,” she said. “So why not get it over with?”

“Okay,” he said with obvious reluctance. “This was about my father and Anna Hanson.”

Stunned, Karen stared at him. “Caleb’s mother?”

He nodded.

“But how? When? Before she married Carl?”

“No, unfortunately, it was much later. They almost ran off together.”

Karen couldn’t seem to take it in. “Anna Hanson almost abandoned her family to run away with your father?”

“They would have left, if my father hadn’t been killed in an accident on his way to get her. He was late because he had stopped to try to explain to me why he wouldn’t be home. She blamed me for his death. It’s irrational, I know, but she couldn’t blame herself.”

“My God,” Karen whispered. “And Caleb knew?”

Grady nodded. “He knew. He’d seen them together, and he found her bags packed on the night of the accident.”

“What about Carl?”

“He knew as well, but he acted as if nothing had happened. For the sake of his pride, I suppose, he pretended that Anna had never had any intention of going anywhere with my father. He and Anna just went along with their marriage.”

Karen thought about her husband, about the occasional dark looks he had cast at his mother, about the
tension that sometimes flared between him and his father. He’d never been able to bring himself to blame either of them for the choices they had made back then, and Charlie Blackhawk was dead, so he had blamed Grady, instead. All of that anger and hurt had been directed at the only person who’d been as innocent of blame as Caleb himself had been.

“What about your mother?” Karen asked Grady. “How did she take all of this?”

His expression turned grim. “She wasn’t as good at pretending. She turned to alcohol. I don’t think she had a sober minute for ten years before it finally caught up with her and she died.”

“How old were you when she died?”

“Nineteen.”

“Which means you were only nine when all of this happened?”

He nodded.

“And Caleb was thirteen?”

“An age when a boy is all caught up in his own raging hormones and doesn’t want to think about his parents as sexual beings. He certainly doesn’t want to think of his mother wanting to be with a man other than his father in that way.”

“But to blame you,” Karen said. “How could he?”

“It wasn’t logical, unless you believe the sins of the fathers live on in their sons, though I doubt any of that was on Caleb’s mind. I was just an easy target for all that pent-up rage he couldn’t express to the people involved.”

Pent-up rage, Karen thought, wondering if that had ultimately been the stress that had damaged Caleb’s
heart. Was it possible that even years later, he had quite literally died of a broken heart?

As saddened as she was by that, she couldn’t help being glad that the secret was finally out. It helped her to see everything in a new light. It helped to know that Caleb’s judgment of Grady had been so terribly misdirected. Wasn’t that what Stella had hinted at so many weeks ago? Obviously she had known the whole story.

Perhaps if Caleb had ever gotten to know the man he considered an enemy, he would have seen that Grady was as much a victim as Caleb himself had been. And the fierce competitiveness and anger that only Caleb had felt might not have contributed to his death.

I
t was almost noon by the time Grady and Karen were able to drive over to see the Fletchers and Oldhams. They were about to leave when they heard a commotion outside. Grady opened the back door just in time to see Dooley thundering toward the house, his horse at a full gallop. The old man looked mad enough to break a few boards in two with his bare hands. He reined in his horse just a few feet from where Grady and Karen stood.

“Dooley, what is it?” Karen asked, regarding him with alarm. “Where’s Hank?”

“I left him in the pasture,” he said, casting a worried frown at Grady. “Could I have a word with you?”

“Hold it,” Karen commanded. “If you speak to anybody around here, Dooley Jenkins, it’ll be me. What’s happened? Is Hank okay?”

Dooley’s expression turned resigned. “He’s fine, but that prize bull you just bought, he’s not so good.”

Grady saw the color drain out of Karen’s face. He put an arm around her waist, but she seemed oblivious to it. He could feel her trembling. This was just one more blow to a woman who’d faced too many of them.

“What happened? Is he sick?” she asked.

“Not sick,” Dooley said. “Shot.”

Karen gasped. “Shot? By whom? Was it an accident?”

“Not unless you believe people are taking target practice in your pasture and that bull just got in the way,” Dooley said with disgust. “Looks to me like somebody took dead aim at him.”

“Is he alive?” Grady asked.

“Barely.”

“I’ll call the vet,” Karen said at once, and disappeared inside, her spine straight, her familiar resolve back in place.

When she’d gone, Grady regarded the old man intently. “Any chance he’ll make it?”

“Not much of one, if you ask me. Whoever did this knew what he was doing. He got him good. Calling the vet’s probably a waste of time and money.”

“Still, she has to try or she’ll never forgive herself,” Grady concluded. “I’ll saddle the horses and ride out with her. Can you wait and bring the vet out when he gets here?”

“Will do,” Dooley agreed. “Then I want to help you find the son of a bitch who did this. The missus was counting on that bull for breeding. Paid an arm and a leg for him.”

“Let’s not worry about that now,” Grady said
grimly. “I can spare a couple of bulls. I imagine Frank Davis will offer to help out, too, once his son gets wind of this from Cassie.” He met Dooley’s gaze. “One more thing, from now on Karen doesn’t go anywhere on this ranch without one of us with her.”

“Got it,” Dooley said, his expression somber. “When you’re not around, me or Hank will stick close by, no matter how much she grumbles about it.”

Grady grinned. “I imagine she’ll grumble quite a lot.”

Dooley’s lips twitched. “Yes, indeed. The woman can’t stand to have anybody coddling her. She’s dead set on proving she can handle anything that’s thrown her way. Been that way ever since Caleb died.”

“I doubt she was counting on this, though,” Grady said. “From what you say, whoever took aim at that bull was up to no good. I don’t want to wait around to see what he has in mind next. I think it’s time to get the sheriff involved.”

“She won’t thank you for that,” Dooley said.

Grady figured that was probably an understatement, but he couldn’t afford to worry about Karen’s reaction. It was more important to keep her safe.

“Once we’re gone, can you call and fill him in?” Grady asked.

Dooley chuckled. “If you think having me do the deed will save your hide, you’re dead wrong, but I’ll do it. Now get those horses saddled before she comes out here and wants to know why the two of us are lollygagging when there’s a crisis.”

Dooley seemed to be taking to his role as co-conspirator and self-appointed protector even better
than Grady had anticipated. He grinned at the old man.

“You’re a good person to have around, Dooley.”

The old man nodded as if the compliment were his due. “Had my doubts about you, when you first started hanging around here, but you ain’t so bad yourself.”

“What is this, some kind of mutual admiration society?” Karen demanded when she found them both right where she’d left them. Evidently she’d heard the tail end of their conversation, too. “The vet’s on the way. Come on, Grady. I want to get out to that field. Maybe there’s something we can do till he gets here.”

But there was nothing to be done. By the time they reached Hank, the bull was dead. The hand had tried to stanch the flow of blood with his own shirt, but the effort had been futile.

Her expression devastated, Karen fell to her knees beside the animal and ran her hand over his blood-soaked chest. “Damn whoever did this,” she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I don’t care if it was an accident.”

The last was muttered as if she were clinging desperately to an explanation she could understand.

Grady glanced at Hank, who subtly shook his head, confirming Dooley’s opinion as well. Grady studied the massive beast and saw what the two men had seen, three distinct wounds. One shot might have been an accident, but three? Not a chance.

Grady glanced up at the sound of hooves pounding across the field. Looked as if Dooley had been successful in getting the sheriff out here in record time, right along with the veterinarian, whose services were no longer needed.

Karen rose stiffly from the ground, her complexion pale, bright patches of color in her cheeks and a flash of anger in her eyes. Surprise streaked across her face when she spotted the sheriff.

“Michael, what are you doing here?” she asked as if it weren’t perfectly obvious that someone had alerted him.

“Dooley called me. Said there was a problem.”

“Some fool accidentally shot my new bull,” she said.

“It wasn’t an accident,” Grady said quietly, ignoring the protest forming on Karen’s lips.

“Oh?” Michael Dunn said, stepping close to examine the animal. “Three bullet wounds. You’re right, Blackhawk. That’s no accident.”

He glanced at Karen. “Why don’t you tell me what else has been going on out here? I understand there have been a few other incidents.”

Karen scowled at Dooley, then turned back to the sheriff. “Nothing serious. Some fence was cut.”

“And an unexpected outbreak of a virus in our herd,” Dooley added pointedly. “That was about a year ago, along with another section of fence destroyed. And a fire that burned out most of the pasture.”

“Any idea who’s behind it?” Michael asked, his gaze subtly shifting toward Grady.

“Not me, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Grady told him.

“It’s no secret that you want this land.”

“I imagine it’s no secret that I’ve also offered to buy it, fair and square.”

“That’s true,” Karen said.

“But you turned him down, am I right?” the sheriff persisted.

“Yes, but—”

Michael cut Karen’s protest off in midsentence. “Which means he has an excellent motive for pulling a few stunts that might make you change your mind,” he concluded.

“Don’t you dare jump to such a ridiculous conclusion,” Karen snapped. “Grady is not behind this. Besides, he was with me when the bull was shot.”

“He could have paid someone to do that,” the sheriff countered.

“Then why would he tell me to call you?” Dooley demanded, shrugging when Grady scowled at him. “Better to have her getting all worked up over you insisting on getting the sheriff than having you hauled off to jail, because the sheriff’s got his facts wrong.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Grady said, when Karen whirled on him.

“You’re the one who got the sheriff out here?” she demanded.

“Not technically,” Grady said, then conceded, “But it was my idea.”

“And a really brilliant one, don’t you think?” she snapped. “Couldn’t you see that this was exactly what would happen?”

“Actually I thought the sheriff might be a bit more open-minded,” he said with a pointed look at Michael.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, when has a law enforcement officer ever been open-minded? He wants to solve the case as quickly as possible, period.”

Michael winced. “Usually we prefer to nail the right suspect,” he corrected.

“Couldn’t prove that by me,” Karen said. “Not based on the last ten minutes, anyway.”

Michael sighed. “Why don’t we all go back to the house and talk this through rationally?”

“What an absolutely brilliant plan,” Karen said sarcastically.

Grady grinned at her. “Darlin’, I think you’ve won. You might want to be a bit more gracious about it.”

She scowled at him. “I’m not feeling especially gracious at the moment. In fact, I’m mad enough to knock a few heads together.”

“Any heads in particular?”

“Besides yours?” she inquired sweetly. “And Dooley’s and Michael’s?”

“I’d say that about covers it,” Grady said, grinning at her.

“This is not the least bit amusing, Grady Blackhawk.”

His expression sobered at once. “The situation? No, not at all. But you? You are something else.”

Her frown deepened. “Don’t even go there. One word about how cute I am when I’m angry, and you’re going to be as dead as that poor old bull.”

Dooley guffawed, then covered his mouth and looked away.

Karen whirled on him. “I’d watch it, if I were you. You’re next on my list.”

“Me? What did I do?” Dooley asked, looking hurt.

“You got the sheriff out here.”

“Somebody had to,” he said flatly. “Grady was right. It was time.”

Grady touched her cheek. “You know it was,” he said quietly.

She heaved a heartfelt sigh, then nodded. “Maybe so, but I don’t have to like it.”

“No, darlin’,” he agreed sympathetically. “You definitely don’t have to like it.”

After the morning she’d had, she was pretty much entitled to hate the world.

Karen couldn’t seem to hold on to anything. She dropped the coffee mugs on the floor, shattering one of them. When Grady brushed aside her attempts to clean it up and did it himself, she tried to get the coffee grinds into the coffeemaker, only to spill most of them on the counter.

Tears stung her eyes when Grady put his hand over hers.

“Sit down,” he said. “I’ll make the coffee. You need to get some food into you. It’s way past lunchtime.”

“I can’t eat. I have to do something,” she said, her voice catching. “If I don’t, I’ll fall apart. This was the final straw. I am never going to be able to keep this place now.”

“Of course, you are, if that’s what you want,” he insisted.

“I can’t afford to replace that bull.”

“Insurance will cover the cost.”

She shook her head. “I had to let it lapse.”

“Then I’ll bring over a couple of my bulls, or Frank Davis can bring over one of his. Cole will insist on it.”

“I don’t want Cassie dragging Cole or her father-in-law into this. And I don’t want to rely on you any more than I have already.”

“This is an emergency, and folks around here help
each other out. You know that. You’d do the same for a neighbor if he needed help.”

“Yes, of course, but—”

“No buts,” he said. “Now I would suggest you cut the sheriff a piece of that apple pie you baked yesterday, but I’m not sure you ought to be handling a knife at the moment.”

“Very amusing,” she said, already reaching for a plate and a knife.

She managed that task with no further disasters, probably because she was going about it in slow motion just to prove Grady wrong. She put the pie in front of Michael, then began pacing.

“Sit down,” the sheriff suggested.

“I can’t. I’m too jumpy.”

“Okay, then, why don’t you begin at the beginning and tell me what’s been going on out here.”

Karen gave him the short version, leaving out all of her suspicions about the neighbors. Grady, unfortunately, wasn’t so reticent. He laid out every piece of information they’d discussed about old grudges and recent jealousy. Michael nodded when he was finished.

“Okay, then, I’ll see what I can find out.” He regarded Grady with a pointed look. “You stay out of it. This is an official investigation now. I don’t want a couple of amateurs nosing around.”

“Whatever you say,” Grady agreed.

Karen kept her mouth clamped shut, since she didn’t want to lie straight to the sheriff’s face. There was no way she was going to stay out of this. That was her bull lying dead out there, her ranch that was under attack.

“I didn’t hear any agreement from you,” Michael said, his gaze leveled on her.

“I understand what you’re saying,” she said.

Michael’s gaze narrowed. “That’s not quite the same thing as saying you’ll leave this investigation to me, now, is it?”

“Not quite,” she said cheerfully. “How clever of you to see that.” Actually, she was surprised that he’d caught the subtle distinction.

“Karen, I’m warning you,” he said, his expression grim. “Stay out of it.”

“I hear you,” she said again.

He sighed heavily, then turned to Grady. “Keep her from meddling in this. If she starts asking a lot of questions, whoever’s behind this just might decide that she’s a threat.”

Grady nodded. “I’ll do what I can. I won’t let her out of my sight for a minute.”

Michael seemed to conclude that that was the most satisfying answer he was likely to get. “I’ll be in touch,” he said.

The minute he was gone, Karen reached for her jacket.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Grady demanded. “You heard what the sheriff said.”

“And you heard what I said—or, rather, what I didn’t say. I’m going to see Maggie Fletcher. And once I’ve had a chat with her, then I’m going to see the Oldhams, just the way we planned. Are you coming with me or not?”

“Is there any way I can talk you out of this?” Grady asked.

He reached out and caressed her cheek, his gaze intent. “Maybe persuade you to rethink your plan?”

His touch raised goose bumps, but she managed to shake her head. “No,” she said flatly. “There’s nothing you can say or do to stop me.”

With a resigned sigh, he reached for his coat. “Let’s go, then. I just hope we don’t bump straight into the sheriff ten minutes after he warned us both to stay out of his way.”

“He’ll be going to the Oldhams. They’re closest. That’s why we’re going to see Maggie.”