The Cattleman (6 page)

He did. He’d miss them. “Kate? When did you see her?”

“We went shopping. I needed appropriate clothes if I was going to take my turn mucking stalls like everybody else.”

“I have hands for that. Who the hell said we took turns?”

“Great. Just great. I am going to kill your father,” she said through gritted teeth as she walked back to her seat.

“Hey, Beth?” A Wrangler width’s between them and he continued to feel the heat she’d created being against his body. He wanted to stay and wait for the stars to come out instead of heading toward the house. He was very tempted to ask but that wasn’t the objective. “There’s another reason for you to stay on the ranch besides my mom’s ultimatum.”

He could see her smile, her brilliantly white teeth showing in spite of the darkening sky. Time to fill her in on his adventure at the canyon.

“I’m going to find who the cartel has spying at the Rocking B. I’m ending this once and for all.”

Chapter Six

“I’m telling you that they ain’t doing nothing except riding. Day after day, that’s it. Burke ain’t going nowhere. He ain’t taking off like he used to. Not even to town. And there ain’t been a soul come to visit them. Nobody. That makes it too risky.”

The past several weeks had been very frustrating for their organization. Their Rook had been captured, leaving only the three of them. The promised weapons had been confiscated. And this American imbecile was getting on his nerves.

“We want him out of the way. Do you understand?” he asked, expecting the appropriate response.

“No. Spell it out for me. ’Cause you don’t and won’t ever pay me enough to take care of that kind of a problem. Do
you
understand?”

Impertinent fool.
If the organization had anyone else to take their place on the ranch, his men would chop the body in pieces for the Coahuila desert mountain lions to feed upon. They needed this little pawn, much to his distaste.

“I understand perfectly. It’s a shame you do not. All we require is an opportunity to present itself.”

“They ain’t givin’ you none.”

“I have excellent hearing and I heard you earlier. Perhaps we are paying you enough to give them a false lead? Once they’re in the open, I have men who understand their jobs and can take care of the problem.”

“When are you thinking? There’s no way I can pull something off before tonight. But everybody’s talking about what happened last year, him being shot and all.”

“Tomorrow will be soon enough.”

“I’ll call ya.”

The line disconnected.

“I’m sure you will,” he said, setting the phone on the table.

As he sat on the gold brocade settee, he studied the four chess boards to his left. Each one a separate opponent. One—the Rook’s board—would go unfinished. He didn’t care for that scenario.

Unfinished bothered him.

As did the unfinished business of Nick Burke. He shouldn’t have trusted the money-fixated foreman to take care of that particular problem last year. His personal men would have been more efficient and they might have had control over the property by now.

“Working in that area is one constant irritation after another.”

“What’s that,
senor
?” Michael set a dinner tray on the end table.

He’d been so deep in thought that he hadn’t noticed he was no longer alone. It re-emphasized just how annoyed he was.

“Nothing, nothing. I was thinking aloud. Nothing to bother with, Michael.”

“Do you need anything else this evening, Senor Obispo?”

“No, and tell the rest of the staff I do not want to be disturbed.”

“Very well,
senor. Buenas noches.
” Michael gently pulled the door closed, leaving the room silent.

Perfect.

They all knew him as Senor Obispo. “Mr. Bishop.” He pulled the dark wine-colored bishop from the game he’d been playing with the Rook. He would have won in four moves.

Senor Obispo could afford to bask in his victory. He rolled the cool marble between his fingers and gripped it in his palm. Mr. Bishop needed action—swift, sincere, artless. He stared at the other three boards against the wall. His opponents were merciless. He mustn’t fall behind in any of the games.

The one adversary he truly wanted to outmaneuver was Burke. The game would be simplified when he did. How many moves would it finally take to defeat him? An inconsequential nobody who didn’t know he was at war?

Tomorrow. His answer was patience. Tomorrow the game would change.

Chapter Seven

Hand to hand. Hip to hip. Chest to chest. Back to front. Tense muscle to tense muscle.

Beth drew in the sexy scent off Nick’s shoulder pressed very near her mouth. Nice. Enticing. Erotic. Off-limits.

“No, not spread. You’ll lose your balance. One foot slightly ahead.”

“Like this?” His lowered voice sent tingly shivers throughout her body, teasing the cells that remembered his light but firm touch under the stars.

“Yeah.” She gulped air through her mouth, trying not to smell his intoxicating musk and get turned on even more.

Another move had his rock-hard back pressed against her breasts. Her in a workout tank and him in a sleeveless undershirt only stirred the memory of when no cotton cloth had separated them. She had a stranglehold around his neck, his hand was behind her head, fingers twisted in her hair. She wasn’t threatened, only proud when his free hand followed through and she was forced to release him.

The daily encounters of physical contact with Nick were probably the only things keeping Beth sane on the ranch. She was in charge, the expert. She could hear her parents drilling the phrase “knowledge is power” into her brain. They’d forced her to learn constantly. It had driven her at school, at college and at work. Not any longer.

Book smarts couldn’t make up for experience.

Constantly learning about riding and horses kept her busy, but also made her feel inadequate. Where her parents were concerned, she’d never be the smartest person in the room. And here at the ranch she was once again the student. She’d never enjoyed that position. It made her feel totally vulnerable.

More so than having Nick’s hands casually touch her during a lesson or when he was pretending to be her fiancé.

Nick didn’t hold back while they were working out, so neither could she. He was an avid student, forcing her to teach defensive moves she’d learned from instructors years ago. They trained in a silent barn before everyone awoke. At a horrible hour before anyone should be awake.

“Your elbow should catch them a little higher.” Her soft voice was to hide their secret workout. She wished she could protect herself from his knowing eyes as easily. He could tell when she was close to breaking their agreement about no sex.

He could tell and he would tease her mercilessly.

Nick raised her exhausted arms, bringing them back around his neck for another try. More pressure, a tighter hold, slick skin, more effort. A breath across her ear made her lose focus. He chuckled. She wanted this one as a win. Forearms, elbows, she pushed the exercise out of her mind and dealt with the threat.

He spread his feet. That was her opportunity and with a determination she’d thought she’d forgotten, Nick went down.

“Damn, woman.” He moaned a second or two with his eyes closed. “When are you teaching me that move?” He stuck his hand blindly in the air, expecting her to help him stand as she’d done each time before.

“You didn’t angle your feet.” Touching him was difficult, but she did. They clasped forearms and he stood.

Face-to-face, his chest only inches away from hers. Closer than she felt comfortable allowing others. Not close enough to satisfy the desire building inside either of them. She could see his rapid pulse, caught the slight jerk when they touched and witnessed the heat in his eyes.

“Sun’s coming up,” she whispered, breathless and sounding wanton. “You ready for a shower?”

For a long second, she saw the invitation in his eyes. The one he purposely had teased her with all week in front of every person on the ranch. The same suggestive invite that he stealthily secured then hid behind a blank look and a shrug.

She reached for the towel she’d brought from the house, and then her feet flew over her head. Flat on her back in a pile of hay, Nick towered over her, laughing.

“My feet?”

“Spread not staggered.” He winked.

Beth stayed put, waiting for the right moment to bring Nick to her side on the ground. Gone was the desire to share an intimate moment. The adrenaline pumping through her veins was about winning, about the teacher not being outshined by her pupil. “Oh, man, I don’t think I can move again.”

He took a step closer, lowered his hand ready to help her to her feet. She closed her eyes to keep from giving herself away. She played her feminine card, breathing harder, knowing that her chest was propelling her thinly-covered breasts closer to him. Knowing that no matter what was or wasn’t between them, under it all...he was just a guy. His stance weakened as he bent to check on her and she struck.

Lightning fast she whipped her hand behind his ankle and yanked. With a resounding
whack
, he joined her on the hay pile. The moaning next to her was a positive indication she’d succeeded in her mission.

“I’m thinking that move isn’t totally fair.”

She twisted her face toward his, almost as close as when his back had pressed against her. “Why do you say that?”

“I don’t have that weapon in my arsenal. Never will.” He rose on an elbow, his eyes cutting to the cleavage at the top of her tight sports bra.

It was her turn to laugh. “No, I guess you don’t.”

“We should head to our respective corners before we break something.” His fingertips skimmed the top seam of her tank.

It was worse torture than if he’d pinned her shoulders to the ground. She couldn’t move. Her pulse raced in anticipation. She craved more. Another stroke. A single kiss. Shoot, just holding his hand when they were alone would be nice.

“What could we...um...break out here?”

“The rules.”

He rolled away and stood, leaving her to fend for herself. If he hadn’t, she would have been all over him. It was better this way. Much better. She’d be heading home in another week. Sooner if she didn’t conquer her fear of those four-legged monsters at rest in the stalls.

She’d never caught herself wishing for things to be different, but...

She really wished their situation was different.

“Meet you back here after breakfast.”

“Not today.” He swiped at the straw stuck to his loose jeans.

The man really did need new clothes that fit him after all the workouts he’d done this year to get strong. Of course, then everyone else would see what was hidden. Beth sort of liked the idea that she was the only woman who knew about the hidden muscles.

She swallowed hard, trying to hide her excitement. Nick might mistake it as excitement for the horse. “I thought I had to saddle Applewine all by my lonesome today.”

“You do, but dad can supervise.” He began walking out the door, swinging his arms into his jacket.

The weather had turned much colder in the past couple of days. She’d already mentioned to Juliet she was thankful for the thicker coat she’d purchased in Alpine.

“Wait. Why can’t you walk me through it?” He was hiding something from her. “Are you driving to Fort Davis? Marfa? Abilene?” She watched him shake his head as she ran through the town names. “But you
are
going somewhere.”

“I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

“You are not going into those mountains without me, and there’s no use arguing about it.”

He slammed his hand against the wall and then dropped his forehead against the painted wood. “You can’t. I need to be on my own tomorrow.”

Tomorrow was the anniversary of the day he’d been shot. Everybody was worried about him. Honestly, she’d expected to find him gone today instead of sparring with her. Her change of clothes and toothbrush were already in saddlebags his father had provided.

She comforted Nick—as much as she could someone in his situation—by placing her hand on his shoulder. It was his only body part she trusted herself to touch. “I’ll go with you. It’ll give us a chance to talk.”

“It would be a lot simpler if you just let me handle this.”

“We both know that’s not a good idea.”

He pivoted and her hand slid across his rigid chest. She recognized the angst, the worry that he’d lose it. The tick in his jaw was as pronounced as the worry wrinkle between his eyes. Gorgeous eyes that excited her with each glance. They warmed her just by looking at her, as if she’d swallowed a shot of whiskey instead of sinking into the depths of his gaze. But she had to set her attraction aside. What little advice she could give, he needed it. Soon.

He covered her hand still at the base of his throat. She could see his rapid pulse, feel the anxiety pumping with every beat of his all-American heart. His lips flattened tight with anger, his grip was the tiniest bit too tight, his eyes were narrowed slits. Whatever he was about to say would be brutal so she’d be angry. So he could leave without her.

Or at least try.

Then it was gone. He looked totally relaxed, waiting for her to overreact. Two could play that game and she was much better practiced at it than he. She’d been fooling her parents and DEA personnel for months.

“You still aren’t going without me,” she whispered.

“I didn’t say a word.” He quirked an eyebrow high and dropped her hand.

“Oh...you shouted volumes.”

* * *

N
ICK
RUBBED
JUST
under his
shoulder. Probably out of habit instead of it hurting. He almost couldn’t tell anymore. They’d been riding a couple of hours and Beth had been handling her horse well, listening to his instructions without complaint. So what was bugging him?

What wasn’t bugging him?

A week ago he’d had every intention of taking Beth up on her offer to have some “fun” during her stay on the ranch. Every day the objective should have been plain. She looked more than willing, yet he went to bed alone. He liked her. The most surprising thing was that he respected the effort she put into learning ranch life.

Conversation around the dinner table flowed easily about her life in Chicago, shopping or adjusting to West Texas. She’d missed Thanksgiving with her family the week before, so his mom had made a second turkey dinner with all the trimmings. The only thing missing had been a Dallas Cowboys football game.

Not bad on the eyes. He hadn’t known he liked tall women until her horse had thrown her in that water cistern. Her hair was much more than just black. The sun bounced through the strands like blue flames.

She caught him staring at her, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t have to.

“Why in the world do you call this poor beast Applewine? That’s not even a real word,” Beth asked, picking a twig from her horse’s mane near her gloved hands.

“Mom wouldn’t let us call her Apple Vinegar.”

“Now that was just mean, wasn’t it, girl?” She patted the bay’s neck, then sat straight. “Your dad said we should have snow soon. Are you really planning on spending two nights out here in the open?” Beth twisted in her saddle, then stretched in the stirrups. She was clearly uncomfortable.

“You seem kind of...fidgety.” Her movements made him laugh and wince at her discomfort at the same time. “I could radio for one of the men to come get you. I’m not going to get into any trouble up here on my own.”

“Famous last words. How in the world do you keep...um...
things
from going numb?”

“You’ll get used to it.” He laughed, keeping it low so she wouldn’t get mad. He’d probably laughed more in the past week than during the entire past year.

But then it hit him again, a wave of “nothing in life mattered.” Whatever he did, he wouldn’t stop smugglers from using his land. It was a hopeless dream to try. Maybe he should get out, sell, move. He’d thought about it many times while staring into the mountains. He’d suffocate in a city.

That was the crux of his problem.

Afraid to stay because of his unknown enemies. Afraid to leave because he’d just die a slow death making a living somewhere else.

“I could enjoy this ride a lot more if this were a cool gel saddle.” She stood in her stirrups again, giving Applewine a looser rein, which encouraged the horse to trot. “Whoa, sister.”

“Sit and pull back a little.” Watching Beth’s antics, he should be enjoying the ride a lot more.

His body grew too heavy to move. He couldn’t get the image of the corral out of his head. The feeling of icy cold continued to seep into his veins no matter where he was. He could search the storm clouds building over the ridge, but the white pipe fence built itself piece by piece. The last thing he’d seen as he formed the last thought he should have while dying.

“You, um...okay?”

Beth had stopped her horse and his had stopped next to her. He hadn’t noticed. He’d gotten completely lost reliving the moment he’d been shot.

“Want to talk about it? You said you would, you know.”

Yeah, he’d promised. He searched the opposite horizon to avoid her concerned eyes. At the time he’d given his word, he’d meant it. This week had been okay. The nightmares had been replaced with dreams of tossing Beth into the hay—for different reasons than practicing self-defense.

“Nick?”

“Tomorrow. That’s when it happened.” He answered without wanting to.

“Right.”

“I couldn’t be there. Looking at the corral. Wondering... Thinking it would all happen again.” The slow motion fall to the frozen ground replayed in his mind. He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t
not
see it. He felt his flesh tear. Felt the hot searing and ultimate pain—

“Nick!” Beth shook his shoulder.

How had she gotten so close?
Damn.
He was falling for real. Almost on top of her.

“Should we pull over for a while?”

“What?” He swallowed hard, almost choking, holding back a roar of laughter. “We don’t really
pull over
our horses.”

Potential anger or not, he couldn’t hold it in. He laughed at her mistake so hard he bent forward over his saddle horn, rubbing Rocket’s thick neck while he was there.

Beth dismounted. He couldn’t see her face and would probably need to smooth over his inconsiderate treatment of her ignorance. Oh, God, he could see her shoulders shaking. She leaned into the side of her saddle, crying.

Nick swung his leg and jumped off the right side, next to Beth. He dropped an arm around her shoulder thinking of something positive to say. Anything that could make up for belittling her. “I didn’t mean to laugh—”