Lone Star Winter (28 page)

“Hayes is getting us some protection,” she replied coolly.

“I know that. But even deputies have to use the bathroom occasionally,” he said flatly. “Why won't you come home with me?”

She lifted her chin. “This is my place, mine and Curt's. We're not running anymore.”

He sighed. “I admire your courage, Libby. But it's misplaced this time.”

She turned away. “I've got a lot to do, Jordan. Thanks anyway.”

He caught her small waist from behind and held her just in front of him. His warm breath stirred the hair at the back of her head. “I was afraid.”

“Of…what?” she asked, startled.

His big hands contracted. “You're very young, even
for a woman your age,” he said stiffly. “Young women are constantly changing.”

She turned in his hold, curious. She looked up at him without understanding. “What has that got to do with anything?”

He reached out and traced her mouth with his thumb. He looked unusually solemn. “You really don't know, do you?” he asked quietly. “That's part of the problem.”

“You aren't making any sense.”

“I am. You're just not hearing what I'm saying.” He bent and kissed her softly beside her ear, drawing away almost at once. “Never mind. You'll figure it out one day. Meanwhile, I'm going to do a better job of looking after you.”

“I can—”

He interrupted at once. “If you say ‘look after myself,' so help me, I'll…!”

She glared at him.

He glared back.

“You're up against someone formidable, whoever it is,” he continued. “I'm not letting anything happen to you, Libby.”

“Fat lot you cared before,” she muttered.

He sighed heavily. “Yes, I know. I'll eat crow without catsup if it will help you trust me again.”

“Julie's very pretty,” she said reluctantly.

“She isn't a patch on you, butterfly,” he said quietly.

She hesitated. But she wasn't giving in easily. He'd hurt her. No way was she going to run headfirst into his arms the first time he opened them.

She watched him suspiciously.

His broad chest rose and fell. “Okay. We'll do it your way. I'll see you at Shea's.”

“You're the enemy,” she pointed out. “You're not on Calhoun's team.”

He shrugged. “A man can change sides, can't he?” he mused. “Meanwhile, if you need me, I'll be at the house. If you call, I'll come running.”

She nodded slowly. “All right.”

He smiled at her.

Curt came back in. He was as cool to Jordan as his sister. The older man shrugged and left without another word.

“Now he's changed sides again,” Libby told Curt when Jordan was gone.

“Jordan's feeling his age, Libby,” Curt told her. “And some comments were made by his cowboys about that kiss they saw.”

Her eyebrows arched. “What?”

He sighed. “I never had the heart to tell you. But one of the older hands said Jordan was trying to rob the cradle. It enraged Jordan. But it made him think, too. He knows how sheltered you've been. I think he was trying to protect you.”

“From what?”

“Maybe from a relationship he didn't think you were ready for,” he replied. “Julie was handy, he'd dated her a time or two, and she swarmed all over him just about the time he was drawing back from you. I expect he was flattered by her attention and being invited into that highbrow social set that shut out his mother after she was disinherited because she married his father. The local society women just turned their backs on her. She was never invited anywhere ever again. Jordan felt it keenly, that some of his playmates weren't allowed to invite him to their houses.”

“I didn't know it was so hard on him. He's only told me bits and pieces about his upbringing.”

“He doesn't advertise it,” he added. “She gave up everything to marry his father. She worked as a housekeeper in one of the motels owned by her father's best friend. It was a rough upbringing for Jordan.”

“I can imagine.” She sighed, unable to prevent her heart from thawing.

 

Shea's was filled to capacity on Saturday evening. Cash Grier got a lot of attention because he brought Tippy with him. She looked good despite her ordeals, except for the small indications of healing cuts on her lovely face. She was weak and still not totally recovered and it showed. Nevertheless, she was still the most beautiful woman in the room. But she had eyes only for Cash and that showed, too.

When they got on the dance floor together, Libby was embarrassed to find herself staring wistfully at them. Tippy melted into Cash's tall body as if she'd found heaven. He looked that way, as well. They clung together to the sound of an old love song. And when she looked up at him, he actually stopped dancing and just stared at her.

“They make a nice couple,” Jordan said from behind her.

She glanced up at him. He looked odd. His dark eyes were quiet, intent on her uplifted face.

“Yes, they do,” she replied. “They seem to fit together very well.”

He nodded. “Dance with me,” he said in a deep voice, and drew her into his arms.

She hesitated, but only for a few seconds. She'd built dreams on those kisses they'd shared and she thought
it was all over. But the way he was holding her made her knees weak. His big hand covered hers against his chest and pressed it hard into the warm muscle.

“I've been an idiot,” he said at her ear.

“What do you mean?” she wondered aloud, drugged by his closeness.

“I shouldn't have backed off,” he replied quietly. “I got cold feet at the very worst time.”

“Jordan…”

“…mind if I cut in?” Hayes Carson asked with a grin.

Jordan stopped, his mind still in limbo. “We were talking,” he began.

“Plenty of time for that later. Shall we, Libby?” he asked, and moved right in front of Jordan. He danced Libby away before she had a chance to stop him.

“Now that's what I call a jealous man,” Hayes murmured dryly, glancing over her shoulder at Jordan. “No need to ask about the lay of the land.”

“Jordan doesn't feel that way about me,” Libby protested.

“He doesn't?”

She averted her eyes to the crowded dance floor. “He isn't a marrying man.”

“Uh-huh.”

She glanced up at Hayes, who was still grinning.

She flushed at the look in his eyes.

Across the room, Jordan Powell saw that flush and had to restrain himself from going over there and tearing Libby out of Hayes's embrace.

“What the devil are you doing here?” Calhoun Ballenger asked abruptly.

Jordan glanced at him wryly. “Not much,” he murmured. “But I came to ask if you needed another willing ally. I've, uh, changed camps.”

Calhoun's eyebrows went up almost to his blond hairline.

“I do like to be on the winning side,” Jordan drawled.

Calhoun burst out laughing. “Well, you're not a bad diplomat, I guess,” he confessed, holding out his hand. “Welcome aboard.”

“My pleasure.”

 

Jordan contrived to drive Libby and Curt home, but he was careful to let Curt go into the ranch house before he cut off the engine and turned to Libby.

“There's been some news,” he said carefully.

“About Janet?” she exclaimed.

“About Julie,” he corrected. He toyed with a strand of her hair in the dim light of the car interior. “One of Grier's men saw her with a known drug dealer earlier
today. She's put her neck in a noose and she doesn't even know it.”

“She uses, doesn't she?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Her behavior is erratic. She must.”

“I'm sorry. You liked her…”

He bent and kissed her hungrily, pulling her across his lap to wrap her up in his warm, strong arms. “I like you,” he whispered against her mouth. “More than I ever dreamed I could!”

She wanted to ask questions, but she couldn't kiss him and breathe at the same time. She gave up and ran her arms up around his neck. She relaxed into his close embrace and kissed him back until her mouth grew sore and swollen.

He sighed into her throat as he held her and rocked her in his arms in the warm darkness.

“Libby, I think we should start going out together.”

She blinked. “You and me?”

He nodded. “You and me.” He drew back and looked down at her possessively. “I could give up liver and onions, if I had to. But I can't give you up.”

“Listen, I don't have affairs…”

He kissed her into silence. “Neither do I. So I guess maybe we won't sleep together after all.”

“But if we go out together…” she said worriedly.

He grinned. “You have enough self-restraint for
both of us, I'm sure,” he drawled. “You can keep me honest.”

She drew back a little and noted the position of his big lean hands under her blouse. She looked at him intently.

He cleared his throat and drew his hands out from under the blouse. “Every man is entitled to one little slip. Right?” His eyes were twinkling.

She laughed. “Okay.”

He touched her mouth with his one last time. “In that case, you'd better rush inside before I forget to be honest.”

“Thanks for bringing us home.”

“My pleasure. Lock the doors,” he added seriously. “And I'm only a phone call away if you need me. You call me,” he emphasized. “Not Hayes Carson. Got that?”

“And since when did I become your personal property?” she asked haughtily.

“Since the minute you let me put my hands under your blouse,” he shot right back, laughing. “Think about it.”

She got out of the vehicle, dizzy and with her head swimming. In one night, everything had changed.

“Don't worry,” he added gently, leaning out the window. “I have enough restraint for both of us!”

Before she could answer him, he gunned the engine and took off down the road.

F
or the next few days, Jordan was at Libby's house more than at his own. He smoothed over hard feelings with her brother and became a household fixture. Libby and Curt filed the insurance claim, paid off the mortgage, and started repurchasing cattle for the small ranch.

Janet was found a couple of days later at a motel just outside San Antonio, with a man. He turned out to be the so-called attorney who'd phoned and tried to get Libby and Curt out of their home. She was arrested and charged with murder in the death of Violet's father. There was DNA evidence taken from the dead man's clothing and the motel room that was directly linked
to Janet. It placed her at the motel the night Mr. Hardy died. When she realized the trouble she was in, she tried to make a deal for a reduced sentence. She agreed to confess to the murder in return for a life sentence without hope of parole. But she denied having a gas can. She swore that she never had plans to burn down Riddle Collins's house with his children in it. Nobody paid her much attention. She'd told so many lies.

It was a different story for Julie Merrill. She continued to make trouble, and not only for Calhoun Ballenger. She was determined that Jordan wasn't going to desert her for little Libby Collins. She had a plan. Two days before the hearing to decide the fate of the police officers who'd arrested her father— Saturday, she put it into practice.

She phoned Libby at work and apologized profusely for all the trouble she'd caused.

“I never meant to be such a pain in the neck,” she assured Libby. “I want to make it up to you. You get off at one on Saturdays, don't you? Suppose you come over here for lunch?”

“To your house?” Libby replied warily.

“Yes. I've had our cook make something special,” she purred. “And I can tell you my side of the story. Will you?”

Dubious, Libby hesitated.

“Surely you aren't afraid of me?” Julie drawled. “I mean, what could I do to you, even if I had something terrible in mind?”

“You don't need to feed me,” Libby replied cautiously. “I don't hold grudges.”

“You'll come, then,” Julie persisted. “Today at one. Will you?”

It was against her better judgment. But it wasn't a bad idea to keep a feud going, especially now that Jordan seemed really interested in her.

“Okay,” Libby said finally. “I'll be there at one.”

“Thanks!” Julie said huskily. “You don't know how much I appreciate it! Uh, I don't guess you'd like to bring your brother, too?” she added suddenly.

Libby frowned. “Curt's driving a cattle truck for Duke Wright up to San Antonio today.”

“Well, then, another time, perhaps! I'll see you at one.” Julie hung up, with a bright and happy note in her voice.

Libby frowned. Was she stupid to go to the woman's home? But why would Julie risk harming her now, with the primary election so close? It was the following Tuesday.

She phoned Jordan. “Guess what just happened?” she asked.

“You've realized how irresistible I am and you're
rushing over to seduce me?” he teased. “Shall I turn down the covers on my bed?”

“Stop that,” she muttered. “I'm serious.”

“So am I!”

“Jordan,” she laughed. “Julie just called to apologize. She invited me to lunch.”

“Did she?” he asked. “Are you going?”

“I thought I might.” She hesitated. “Don't you think it's a good idea, to mend fences, I mean?”

“I don't know, Libby,” he replied seriously. “She's been erratic and out of control lately. I don't think it's a good idea. I'd rather you didn't.”

“Are you afraid she might tell me something about you that I don't know?” she returned, suspicious.

He sighed. “No. It's not that. She wasn't happy when I broke off with her. I don't trust her.”

“What can she do to me in broad daylight?” she laughed. “Shoot me?”

“Of course not,” he scoffed.

“Then stop worrying. She only wants to apologize.”

“You be careful,” he returned. “And phone me when you get home. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“How about a movie tonight?” he added. “There's
a new mystery at the theater. You can even have popcorn.”

“That sounds nice,” she said, feeling warm and secure.

“I'll pick you up about six.”

“I'll be ready. See you then.”

She hung up and pondered over his misgivings. Surely he was overreacting. He was probably afraid Julie might make up a convincing lie about how intimate they'd been. Or perhaps she might be telling the truth. She only knew that she had to find out why Julie wanted to see her in person. She was going.

 

But something niggled at the back of her mind when she drove toward Julie's palatial home on the Jacobs River. Julie might have wanted to invite Libby over to apologize, but why would she want Curt to come, too? She didn't even know Curt.

Libby's foot lifted off the accelerator. Her home was next door to Jordan's. Julie was furious that Jordan had broken off with her. If the house was gone, Libby and Curt would have to move away again, as they had before…!

Libby turned the truck around in the middle of the road and sped toward her house. She wished she had a cell phone. There was no way to call for help. But
she was absolutely certain what was about to happen. And she knew immediately that her stepmother hadn't been responsible for that gas can on the porch.

The question was, who had Julie convinced to set that fire for her? Or would she be crazy enough to try and do it herself?

Libby sped faster down the road. If only there had been state police, a sheriff's deputy, a policeman watching. She was speeding. It was the only time in her life she'd ever wanted to be caught!

But there were no flashing lights, no sirens. She was going to have to try and stop the perpetrator all by herself. She wasn't a big woman. She had no illusions about being able to tackle a grown man. She didn't even have a weapon. Wait. There was a tire tool in the boot! At least, she could threaten with it.

She turned into the road that led to the house. There was no smoke visible anywhere and no sign of any traffic. For the first time, she realized that she could be chasing make-believe villains. Why would she think that Julie Merrill would try to burn her house down? Maybe the strain of the past weeks was making her hysterical after all.

She pulled up in front of the house and got out, grabbing the tire tool out of the back. It wouldn't hurt to look around, now that she was here.

She moved around the side of the house, her heart beating wildly. Her palms were so sweaty that she had to get a better grip on the tire tool. She walked past the chimney, to the corner, and peered around. Her heart stopped.

There was a man there. A young, dark man. He had a can of gasoline. He was muttering to himself as he sloshed it on the back porch and the steps.

Libby closed her eyes and prayed for strength. There was nobody to help her. She had to do this alone.

She walked around the corner with the tire tool raised. “That's enough, you varmint! You're trespassing on private property and you're going to jail. The police are right behind me!”

Startled, the man dropped the gas can and stared wild-eyed at Libby.

Sensing an advantage, she started to run toward him, yelling at the top of her lungs.

To her amazement, he started running down a path behind the house, with Libby right on his heels, still yelling.

Then something happened that was utterly in the realm of fantasy. She heard an engine behind her. An accomplice, she wondered, almost panicking.

Jordan Powell pulled up right beside her in his
truck and threw open the passenger door. “Get in!” he called.

She didn't need prompting. She jumped right in beside him, tire tool and all, and slammed the door. “He was dousing the back porch with gas!” she panted. “Don't let him get away!”

“I don't intend to.” His face was grim as he stood down on the accelerator and the truck shot forward on the pasture road, which was no more than tracks through tall grass.

The attempted arsonist was tiring. He was pretty thick in the middle and had short legs. He was almost to a beat-up old car sitting out of sight of the house near the barn when Jordan came alongside him on the driver's side.

“Hold it in the ruts!” he called to Libby.

Just as she grabbed the wheel, he threw open the door and leaped out on the startled, breathless young man, pinning him to the ground.

By the time Libby had the truck stopped, Jordan had the man by his shirt collar and was holding him there.

“Pick up the phone and call Hayes,” he called to Libby.

Her hands were shaking, but she managed to dial 911 and give the dispatcher an abbreviated account of
what had just happened. She was told that they contacted a deputy who was barely a mile away and he was starting toward the Collins place at that moment.

Libby thanked her nicely and cut off the phone.

“Who put you up to this?” Jordan demanded of the man. “Tell me, or so help me, I'll make sure you don't get out of prison until you're an old man!”

“It was Miss Julie,” the young man sobbed. “I never done nothing like this in my life. My daddy works for her and he took some things out of her house. She said she'd turn him over to the police if I didn't do this for her.”

“She'd have turned him over anyway, you fool,” Jordan said coldly. “She was using you. Do you have any idea what the penalty is for arson?”

He was still sobbing. “I was scared, Mr. Powell.”

Jordan relented, but only a little. He looked up as the sound of a siren was heard coming closer.

Libby opened the door of the truck and got out, just as a sheriff's car came flying down the track and stopped just behind the truck.

The deputy was Sammy Tibbs. They both knew him. He'd been in Libby's class in high school.

“What have you got, Jordan?” Sammy asked.

“A would-be arsonist,” Jordan told him. “He'll confess if you ask him.”

“I caught him pouring gas on my back porch and I chased him with my tire tool. I almost had him when Jordan came along,” Libby said with a shy grin.

“Whew,” Sammy whistled. “I hope I don't ever run afoul of you,” he told her.

“That makes two of us,” Jordan said, with a gentle smile for her.

“I assume you'll be pressing charges?” Sammy asked Libby as he handcuffed the young man, who was still out of breath.

“You can bet real money on it,” Libby agreed. “And you'll need to pick up Julie Merrill as well, because this man said she told him to do it.”

Sammy's hands froze on the handcuffs. “Julie Merrill? The state senator's daughter?”

“That's exactly who I mean,” Libby replied. “She called and invited me over to lunch. Since she doesn't like me, I got suspicious and came home instead, just in time to catch this weasel in the act.”

“Is this true?” the deputy asked the man.

“Mirandize him first,” Jordan suggested. “Just so there won't be any loopholes.”

“Good idea,” Sammy agreed, and read the suspect his rights.

“Now, tell him,” Libby prodded, glaring at the man who'd been within a hair of burning her house down.

The young man sighed as if the weight of the world was sitting on his shoulders. “Miss Merrill had something on my daddy, who works for her. She said if I'd set a fire on Miss Collins's back steps, she'd forget all about it. She just wanted to scare Miss Collins is all. She didn't tell me to burn the whole place down.”

“Arson is arson,” Sammy replied. “Don't touch anything,” he told Libby. “I'll send our investigator back out there and call the state fire marshal. Arson is hard to prove, but this one's going to be a walk in the park.”

“Thanks, Sammy,” Libby said.

He grinned. “What for? You caught him!”

He put the scared suspect in the back of his car and sped off with a wave of his hand.

“That was too damned close,” Jordan said, looking down at Libby with tormented eyes. “I couldn't believe it when I saw you chasing him through the field with a tire iron! What if he'd been armed?”

“He wasn't,” she said. “Besides, he ran the minute I chased him, just like a black snake.”

He pulled her into his arms and wrapped her up tight. There was a faint tremor in those strong arms.

“You brave idiot,” he murmured into her neck. “Thank God he didn't get the fire started first. I can see you running inside to grab all the sentimental items and save them. You'd have been burned alive.”

She grimaced, because he was absolutely right. She'd have tried to save her mementos of her father and mother, at any cost.

“Libby, I think we'd better get engaged,” he said suddenly.

She was hallucinating. She said so.

He pulled back from her, his eyes solemn. “You're not hallucinating. If Julie realizes how serious this is between us, she'll back off.”

“She's going to be in jail shortly, she'll have to,” she pointed out.

“They can afford bail until her hearing, even so,” he replied. “She'll be out for blood. But if she hears about the engagement, it might be enough to make her think twice.”

“I'm not afraid of her,” she said, although she really was.

“Humor me,” he coaxed, bending to kiss her gently.

She smiled under the warm, comforting feel of his hard mouth on her lips. “Well…”

He nibbled her upper lip. “I'll get you a ring,” he whispered.

“What sort?”

“What do you want?”

“I like emeralds,” she whispered, standing on tiptoe to coax his mouth down again.

“An emerald, then.”

“Nobody would know?”

He chuckled as he kissed her. “We might have to tell a few hundred people, just to make it believable. And we might actually have to get married, but that's okay, isn't it?”