Her Cowboy Avenger (7 page)

She’d almost been afraid he wouldn’t be there, that he’d change his mind. She’d hurried there after work, trying not to run, not wanting to look too eager.

He’d been waiting for her, in the shadows at the end of the block, a corner the nearest streetlamp didn’t quite reach. He’d stepped out into the light when he’d seen her, his strong, sensual lips curving into a smile that took her breath away. And by the time she reached him she’d been smiling, too.

“I’m glad you came,” he said, his voice low and deep, incredibly sexy.

“Me, too,” she said. His truck was parked behind him. She waited for him to offer to help her in, maybe even make some pointless small talk about how the rest of her shift had gone.

Instead, there in the shadowed darkness at the end of the block, he’d kissed her.

It wasn’t what she’d expected. She hadn’t been ready for it. But as soon as his lips met hers she knew it was exactly right.

He’d kissed her, long and slow and sweetly, like she’d never been kissed before. She might as well not have been. Nothing she’d experienced before could begin to compare.

Things didn’t get any less heady as the summer went on. They’d had to sneak around. She hadn’t wanted her father to find out about them. He had never liked the idea of her dating. To call him overprotective would have been the understatement of the century. It wasn’t just the usual protectiveness of a father toward his daughter, his only child. He’d watched her like a hawk ever since her mother had left them without a word. Elena had known he’d been afraid of losing her, too, had considered anyone who might take her away from him a threat. His drinking hadn’t exactly made him any more rational about the matter, either. It had been a miracle he’d let her go away to school, but even that had required a great deal of arguing, until he’d realized she was going, and the only way to hold on to her at all would be to let her. And even then he’d made it seem like a betrayal.

So they’d seen each other in secret, whenever Matt could get away from the ranch, which wasn’t nearly enough for either of them. Nights when she worked at the diner he would wait for her at their corner. At first he would drive her home, then they began to stay out later together. Her father was usually too out of it to notice. They would talk, and kiss, and when the time came that she was ready and couldn’t wait anymore, they finally made love on a blanket stretched out on a field under the stars.

She’d never dated much in high school—never had the time—and had seen only a few guys casually in college. This was so much more than any of those fleeting experiences. They’d shared everything about their lives, her more than him at first. She’d told him about life with her father, about her mother leaving, the most ridiculously insignificant little details about her life. And he’d listened to every word, patiently.

“I just like hearing your voice,” he’d told her once, the words warming her as none ever had.

He’d told her he’d never been close to his parents, either, and didn’t have a relationship with them, though he wouldn’t tell her why, simply saying it was complicated. It was only after a couple months, almost at the end of their time together, that he’d finally told her the details late one night. How he’d been raised by his mother, who’d moved them around various small towns in the Southwest. His father had been a rodeo cowboy she’d fallen hard for. He hadn’t stuck around, not wanting a kid, and his mother had blamed Matt for ruining her life. It hadn’t helped that he’d looked like his father, and every time she saw him she saw the face of someone she hated. He’d been the target of all her rages, until he’d done everything he could to get away from home. In one of the towns where they’d lived, there’d been a ranch nearby, and he’d spent hours by himself standing outside the fence watching the horses. When he was twelve he’d gotten a job mucking out stalls at another ranch, and gradually he’d learned more about horses and the cattle business, though he never got to stay anywhere for long. Eventually, his mother would be ready to move on.

He’d come home one night when he was fifteen to find his mother packing to leave with her latest boyfriend. She wasn’t coming back, he wasn’t invited. He hadn’t been sorry to see her go. He’d been on his own ever since, managing to get hired on at ranches by lying about his age.

He’d met his father once, managing to track him down. It was like his mother had said, Matt looked a lot like him. There was no denying they were father and son. Except that was exactly what the man had done. He’d cussed Matt out, told him to take a hike, threatened to kick his ass if he didn’t get the hell away from him. Not figuring the man was worth the trouble, he’d done just that.

His voice had been flat and controlled as he’d told it, but she’d been able to detect the emotion in his voice, the deep pain beneath the stoic exterior. She’d known, even before he admitted it, that he’d never told anyone else about any of that before. Only her. Because he trusted her. Because he loved her.

He’d told her that, too—finally—after several months. She knew the admission hadn’t come easy, the vulnerability it required everything he’d learned to protect himself against. When she’d said it back, she’d seen the joy in his face, but also the relief, and it had broken her heart a little. She wondered if anyone had ever said that to him before. Everything inside her told her they hadn’t.

They’d both been alone and basically on their own for most of their lives. But they weren’t alone anymore. Now they had each other.

After a few brief, uneasy exchanges about the subject, they’d avoided talking about the future, about what would happen at the end of the summer when she went back to school. It didn’t matter. She knew they’d work it out somehow. They’d found each other. They loved each other. There was no way they ever wouldn’t be together.

Remembering it now, Elena shook her head. God, she’d been young. And so foolish.

Then her father had found out about them. She’d never discovered how, but she supposed by the end they’d been less careful than they’d once been. Nothing had mattered but being with him; every minute they’d been apart from each other had been unbearable.

Her father had erupted. He’d actually gone to the police to complain about the man messing around with his daughter, though she’d been an adult and obviously there was nothing they could have charged Matt with, even if they’d been inclined to bother.

But then her father had gone out to the Nolan ranch where Matt was working that summer. From what she’d heard in the whispers people hadn’t managed to hide entirely behind her back, he’d made a fool of himself, screaming and flailing and demanding that Matt be fired, threatening to come back as much as he needed to until it happened. Unfortunately, he’d gotten what he’d wanted. Tom Nolan had a spread to run, and neither the time nor the interest to put up with Ed Reyes’s nonsense. Even if he called the police to have him hauled away, Ed would have been back as promised once he drank enough. The summer was almost over, the season was winding down, and Matt was just another hand. It really wasn’t worth the hassle of dealing with Ed to keep him around.

So he’d been let go. And there’d been nothing for him to do but leave town.

He’d asked her to come with him.

She’d said no.

A decision that had seemed like the right one—the only one possible at the time.

A decision she’d reconsidered more often than she could count.

The sunlight suddenly hit her eyes, blinding her. Raising a hand to shade them, she glanced up, gradually realizing where she was. She was still in her truck, parked on the side of the road. She must have been sitting there for a while. The sun had moved, sinking lower in the sky until it finally hit her face. A glance at the clock confirmed it. More than a half hour had passed.

With a sigh, she tried to shake off the remnants of the memories. She couldn’t sit here all day. The longer she remained on the side of the road, the more likely someone would notice. She was lucky no one had passed by already. The last thing she needed was for word to get out that she’d been parked on the highway, having some kind of breakdown. Not to mention there was more than enough work waiting for her back at the ranch. She was only just managing to do the bare minimum to keep things going around there on her own.

Starting the engine, she shifted the truck into gear and pulled out onto the road. So much to do, beginning with learning how to put the past behind her and get her emotions under control. As long as Matt was here, it was something she was going to have to do. She had enough to worry about. She didn’t have the time or energy to waste wallowing in the past.

He was just a friend. Here to help her.

She couldn’t afford to think of him as anything else.

* * *

E
IGHT YEARS AGO THERE’D ONLY
been one bar in town. Matt had no trouble finding it on the edge of town just off the main street. There were no vehicles in the parking lot when he pulled in. It wasn’t even five o’clock, he realized. Maybe too early to expect anyone to be here.

Sure enough, the place was almost empty except for one man seated—more like slumped over—at the bar, and one standing behind it. The seated man didn’t react to Matt’s entrance, though the bartender looked up. He appeared to be in his forties. Matt didn’t recognize him, which might not mean much. If he was hoping people wouldn’t remember him, there was a good chance he wouldn’t remember everyone he’d met in Western Bluff eight years ago. Still, something told him he didn’t know this man.

With a nod, Matt walked up to the bar and slid onto a stool. “Afternoon.”

“Afternoon,” the bartender said simply. “What can I get you?”

“A beer’d be good. Whatever you have on tap.”

With a nod, the bartender moved away. The man certainly wasn’t overly friendly, something that wasn’t going to help Matt with his mission. He was going to have to hope tipping well would open the man up. Reaching for his wallet, he pulled out a twenty.

“You new around here?”

It wasn’t the bartender who’d spoken, but the man seated a couple stools down from Matt. Matt glanced over at him, taking in the way he was hunched over the bar, the unsteadiness of his gaze. It may be early, but the man had clearly already had a few. Just as clearly he was in the mood to talk. Matt wasn’t about to rebuff the friendliest greeting he’d gotten yet in this town.

“Yes, I am,” Matt said easily. “Just got in today.”

“And leavin’ today, too, I reckon,” the man cackled, laughing at his own apparent joke.

“What makes you say that?” Matt asked.

“Not much to see around here. Why would anybody stick around?”

“Looks like I’ll be here for a while, actually. Just took a job. The Weston Ranch.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Matt saw the bartender, who’d started back with his beer, suddenly stop. The drunk’s eyebrows shot upward. He stared blearily at Matt for a few long seconds before reaching for his own drink.

“Might not be around as long as you think,” the man said into his glass.

“Why’s that?”

The bartender dropped Matt’s beer down on the counter in front of him so hard some of it sloshed over the sides of the glass. He made no move to wipe it up. “Woman you’re working for’s probably going to be in jail soon.”

Matt met the man’s steady gaze and returned it. He had no intention of being intimidated by the bartender any more than he had been by the deputy. The sooner word got out that he wasn’t going to be a pushover, the better.

But the longer he held the man’s eyes, the more Matt registered that what he saw in them wasn’t anger or hostility. Just a cold matter-of-factness that somehow was even more disturbing.

If that was the man’s attitude toward Elena, Matt really didn’t feel like throwing a big tip his way. Not to mention he had the feeling now that not even a tip could get the bartender to open up. His new friend a couple stools down, on the other hand, seemed like someone he’d like to keep talking.

Matt set the twenty down on the bar. “Bring my friend here another,” he said, nodding to the other man.

His lips thinning, the bartender took the bill and moved away again.

“Why, thank you,” the drunk said, tipping his almost empty glass in Matt’s direction. “Name’s Roy Fuller.”

“Matt Alvarez.”

“See, Ben,” Fuller said to the bartender. “He’s not a bad sort. Besides, he’s new. Might not even know about Bobby.”

“If you mean the murder, I know,” Matt said. “I met a local deputy. He tried to scare me off.”

The drunk nodded so hard Matt almost expected his head to pop off his neck. “That’d be Travis. He and Bobby were tight. Always were since they were kids. He’s got to be taking this real personal.”

That was putting it mildly. “That makes sense the way he was acting,” Matt agreed.

“Yeah, Travis always did have a temper, and Bobby was like a brother to him. Not to mention he never did like Elena. He’s got to be coming for her hard. Hell, most folks are. Bobby was the last of the Westons. That means something around here.”

The bartender set the new beer in front of Fuller, who reached for it greedily.

“A family that important must have had some enemies,” Matt suggested.

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But no, not Bobby. He was a good one.”

“
Everybody
has enemies,” Matt pressed. “There wasn’t anybody who had a problem with him?”

“Only that wife of his,” Fuller snickered. “Why do you think she killed him?”

His words drew Matt up short. “You think she did it?”

“Of course. Folks liked Bobby. Nobody had a reason to want him dead. Nobody but her.”

Matt felt his heart sink. Staring into the man’s bleary gaze, Matt knew he wasn’t lying or putting on an act. Fuller really did believe Elena killed her husband.

He glanced at the bartender to find him staring at him. The man nodded, the gesture seeming to say “I told you so.”

“I heard he was having money problems,” Matt said.

“Times are rough for everybody. Only person who cared about his money problems was his wife, who didn’t want him spending any. He was always wanting to make changes and improvements on the ranch and she was always fighting him. Can’t blame her, I suppose. Elena grew up poor, never had much. Makes sense she’d be tight with money.” Fuller shot him a look. “I hope she’s paying you well enough, especially since people might be giving you trouble for working for her.”