The Rancher & Heart of Stone (27 page)

Her eyes sparkled. “Wow.”

He shrugged. “It’s a skill. We all have them.” He smiled at her. “Yours is handling animals. I never told you that Bailey bites, did I?”

“He’s never bitten me,” she said, confused.

“You’re the only person who knows him who can say that,” he told her with a twinkle in his eyes. “Like I said. You have skills.”

She smiled back.

He got to his feet and moved to the door, opened it and looked both ways. He came back into the room. He’d just turned toward the closet when the door opened suddenly and Brent Welsh came into the room.

“Quick, Keely, give me the money!” he told Keely abruptly. “Hayes Carson was downstairs—he got Jock the minute we walked in the door! Somebody tipped them off!”

“Then you should be safe,” Keely told him. “If Sheriff Carson has Jock.”

“I’ll never have enough money to be safe,” he said. “But at least I can get away from the Fuentes bunch. Where’s the—”

In a movement so fluid that Keely almost missed it, Boone caught Welsh’s arm, swung him around and pinned him to the wall. He held him there with one big hand while he flipped open his cell phone and pushed a button.

“Let me go!” Brent pleaded with his captor. “I can’t go to jail here, they’ll kill me!”

“What a tragedy that would be,” Boone drawled.

The door burst open and Hayes walked in, closing his cell phone. He put away the .40 caliber Glock he’d been holding even with his right temple, and grinned at Boone. “You don’t forget that military training, do you?” He chuckled.

Boone grinned. “I get in some practice on stubborn bulls at roundup. Here.” He propelled Welsh around so that Hayes could handcuff him.

“Keely, tell them to let me go!” Brent called to his daughter. “I’m innocent. It was Jock! He did it!”

Keely felt sick. She’d almost believed her father’s false apology. “I can’t help you,” she said sadly. “Nobody can, now.”

Brent’s face darkened and he began to curse. Hayes grimaced as he pushed the man out of the room ahead of him and turned him over to a deputy.

“Sorry about that,” he told Keely. “We had him, but he slipped away. We’ve got him now, thanks to you,” he told Boone, “and his partner, as well. I’ll talk to you later. Don’t worry, Keely,” he added. “These two are wanted for murder in Arizona. I imagine there’ll be an extradition hearing very soon. Good job, Boone. If you ever want to work for me...?”

“I’d never fit in,” Boone told him. “I use real curse words.”

Hayes made a face at him. “‘Crackers and Milk’ is a perfectly good curse,” he informed his friend.

“Ha!”

Hayes left with his dignity intact.

Boone moved to the bed and tugged Keely up into his arms, careful not to jar her sore arm. “And now we can concentrate on happier times,” he said gently, smiling as he kissed her with breathless tenderness.

* * *

S
HE
HAD
A
room next to Winnie’s upstairs, the most beautiful bedroom she’d ever seen in her life. She was afraid to walk on the carpet, which was pure white, dramatic against the blue curtains and bedspread and the blue tile in the bathroom.

“Gosh, the bathroom is bigger than my whole bedroom at home,” she exclaimed when Boone carried her in and laid her on the bed.

“We like a lot of space,” he told her, smiling. “Comfortable?”

She sank into fathoms of feathery softness. “Oh, yes!”

Winnie and Clark came in behind them, bearing flowers and fruit.

“The flowers came from the girls at your office,” Winnie told her, “and the fruit’s from Dr. Rydel.”

“Does he often send you presents?” Boone asked darkly.

“Only when I get bitten by rattlesnakes and end up in the hospital,” she told him solemnly.

Winnie and Clark burst out laughing.

Boone flushed a little. “Cut it out,” he muttered. He pulled his hat low over his eyes. “I’ve got to get the boys working out on the west pasture. I’ll be back in time for supper.” He grinned at Keely. “When you’re better, you can make us some more yeast rolls.”

She laughed, flattered that he’d liked them. “Okay.”

“But not yet,” he cautioned.

She saluted him. He laughed out loud, winked at his siblings, and left them with Keely.

“Imagine that.” Winnie sighed, smiling. “You and Boone.”

Keely flushed. “He’s just being kind.”

“Do you think so?” Clark mused. “I don’t.”

“Shoo,” Winnie told her brother. “I’m going to settle Keely, then I have to go in and work for a few hours. I’m on a split shift this week.”

“You’re worth a fortune, and you’re working for wages.” Clark sighed.

Winnie made a face at him. “I like working for wages.”

Clark’s eyes twinkled. “You like working with Kilraven.”

Winnie blushed. “He’s just one of the guys I work with, now that I’m working dispatch full-time.”

Clark wiggled both eyebrows and laughed as he walked out.

“Besides,” Winnie told her best friend, “Kilraven doesn’t like me.”

Keely had doubts about that, but she didn’t say a word. She just smiled.

Winnie helped her get into a flower-print ankle-length cotton gown with short puffy sleeves and a high neckline. She winced at the scars. “You poor thing,” she said with genuine sympathy. “It must have been so painful!”

Keely lost her self-consciousness at that expression. “Most people would have said how horrible it looks. Yes, it was terrible. The first few days were the worst of my life. And then, even when it started healing, there were the scars.” She shivered and leaned back into the pillows with a sigh. “But I guess it was really a blessing in disguise, because Jock had just gotten out of prison after two years, and he came on to me the day he got back. The scars were all that saved me from him. He thought I was repulsive.” She looked at Winnie meaningfully. “I was thirteen years old,” she said bitterly.

Winnie sat down on the bed beside her and squeezed her hand. “Some men are animals,” she said gently. “Men used to come on to me when I went to parties because they knew who I was, who my family was. They didn’t really want me, they wanted the wealth and power I had access to. Boone spent a lot of time making threats.” She laughed. “That’s why I like working for the emergency management center,” she added. “Some of the newer people don’t even know I come from a wealthy background. They treat me like everybody else. It’s flattering.”

Keely was curious. “Kilraven knows who you are.”

Winnie nodded. She frowned. “It’s odd, isn’t it, that he doesn’t seem to mind.” She hesitated, looking down at her lap. “But most of the time he treats me just like he does the other dispatchers.”

“I’ve always dreamed about Boone,” Keely said. “I never thought he might feel the same way about me.”

Winnie laughed. “I had a hunch about that when he went off and beat up the private detective,” she mused. “That’s not like Boone. It wasn’t just guilt, either. He may think you’re too young, Keely, but he seems to have come to grips with your age.”

Keely smiled. “I’m old for my age,” she said drily.

“And I’ll say amen to that!”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

B
OONE
CAME
HOME
dusty and worn-out, having helped move steers from summer pasture into the holding pens nearby, where they’d be held until they could be shipped to a feedlot for finishing as yearlings.

It was a long, arduous process, and somebody always got hurt. Fortunately, Keely noted, it wasn’t Boone.

“You pay your foreman a fortune to do that job, and then you go out and work like you’re him,” Winnie fussed as he came into Keely’s bedroom after he’d showered.

“I’m not cut out for the life of a gentleman of leisure,” he pointed out, smiling. “How’re you doing, sprout?” he asked Keely.

“Much better,” she assured him. “Have you heard anything from Hayes Carson?”

He shook his head. “He’ll get back in touch with us when he’s got something to say. Meanwhile, stop worrying. You’re safe here.”

She smiled. “I know. It wasn’t that. I just wondered.”

“I’m starved,” he told Winnie. “When are we eating?”

“Mrs. Johnston’s outdone herself,” Winnie replied with a grin. “Beef stew and Mexican corn bread.”

“Worth working all day for,” he said. “I’ll bring yours up,” he told Keely.

“I could come downstairs,” she began.

“Not until Coltrain says you can,” he replied firmly. “We don’t want a relapse, now, do we?”

“I guess not. My arm’s better, though,” she said, moving it gingerly. “The swelling’s gone down a lot.”

“Damned snake,” he muttered.

“That’s exactly what I said when it happened,” Keely assured him.

He grinned. “You do look better.” His eyes slid over the flowered gown. They were bold and possessive.

* * *

T
HE
MEMORY
OF
that look kept her occupied all through supper. He’d brought it himself, on a tray, to the amusement of Winnie, Clark and Mrs. Johnston, who added a flower in a vase to the tray.

After supper, Winnie went straight to her bedroom to change clothes. Clark went out. Boone changed into pajamas and a robe and came walking into Keely’s bedroom with a file folder in his hand, reading glasses on and a pencil over one ear. He piled into bed with Keely, propping himself up on two of the mound of pillows Mrs. Johnston had brought her. He proceeded to open the folder and read.

Keely was fascinated. “What are you doing?”

“Working on printouts of the breeding program that our cow-and-calf foreman brought me,” he told her. “We breed for certain traits, like low birth weight and lean conformation, and we use computers to make projections for us.” He showed her the information on the pages.

“No. I mean...I mean, what are you doing in here, like that?” She indicated his pajamas and robe.

He gave her a conspiratorial grin. “I’m sleeping with you.”

“You are not!” she gasped. “In the first place, I can’t—”

“Sleeping,” he emphasized. “You close your eyes and the next thing you know, it’s morning.”

She relaxed a little, but she was still wary.

“All the doors are open,” he pointed out, nodding toward the hall. “They’ll stay open. Nobody will notice that I’m in here.”

Winnie walked past the doorway and smiled. She stopped suddenly, turned and stared.

Boone glowered at her. “What’s the matter with you?” he asked his sister. “Haven’t you ever seen a man in pajamas and a robe before?”

“You’re in bed with Keely,” she stated. “She’s still fragile,” she added worriedly.

“That’s true, but her father’s friend is something of an escape artist,” he agreed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a worn-looking Smith & Wesson .38 caliber police special. He put it up again. “Nobody’s getting past me.”

Winnie stopped looking shocked and began to grin. “I get it.”

“Good. While you’re getting things, how about getting Bailey and his bed out of my room and bringing them both in here?” he added. “He’ll start howling if the light goes off and he’s alone in there.”

“He really does,” Winnie told Keely. “He thinks Boone will die if he isn’t there to protect him.”

Keely smiled. “He’s a sweet old boy.”

“Who, me?” Boone drawled, peering at her wickedly over his reading glasses.

“The dog!” she emphasized.

“Oh.” He went back to his spreadsheets, oblivious to the world.

Winnie chuckled. “I’ll get Bailey.”

* * *

S
HE
DID
. S
HE
also got Clark and Mrs. Johnston. They all peered in from the hall, fascinated. Boone had never even brought a woman upstairs in living memory, and here he was in bed, in his pajamas, with Keely.

Clark started to speak. Boone lifted the gun, displayed it, put it back in his pocket without looking up from the spreadsheet.

“I haven’t said anything!” Clark protested. “You shouldn’t threaten people with guns just because they’re curious!”

“It’s for Keely’s father’s evil friend,” Winnie told him.

“Oh. Oh!” Clark finally got it. “Okay.”

Mrs. Johnston was grinning from ear to ear. Her white hair seemed to vibrate. She and Clark and Winnie just stood, staring and grinning. Boone reached in his other pocket and brought out a jeweler’s box, just the size to contain a ring. He displayed it, still without looking up from the spreadsheet, and put it away again. Now Keely was looking breathless, too.

“Here’s Bailey and his bed,” Winnie said as she put the dog pallet on Boone’s side of the bed. “We’ll close the door on our way out.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Boone told her curtly. “This is a respectable household. No hanky-panky above stairs.” He glared at Clark. “From anybody.”

Clark threw up his hands. “I once, only once, sneaked a girl into my room for immoral purposes. He never forgets!”

“It was an act of charity,” Winnie chided Boone. “He found her wandering all alone on a street corner and brought her home to get a blanket to put around her.”

Everybody burst out laughing, even Clark.

“All right, that’s enough. Everybody out. I’ve got work to do, then we’re going to have a decent night’s sleep.” He glanced down at Keely, who was watching him with openly worshipful eyes. He smiled tenderly. “Some of us could use it more than others.”

“I won’t argue with that,” Keely replied.

While they were looking at each other, their audience vanished.

Boone glanced at the doorway and chuckled deep in his throat as he looked down at his bedmate. “I do have evil purposes in mind,” he confided in a low tone, “but they’re probably all hiding ten feet from the door, waiting for developments. So we have to behave.”

She sighed deeply. “Okay,” she replied. Her hand, under the sheet, reached over to touch his muscular arm. She closed her eyes, comforted by the contact. “I’ve been afraid to sleep for days,” she whispered. “Now I’m not.”

He smoothed a hand over her blond hair. “Go to sleep,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“I know that.”

He went back to the spreadsheet. Seconds later, in the long silence that followed, three sets of eyes peered cautiously in the door.

“What?” Boone asked belligerently.

They scattered to the four winds. Bailey climbed into his bed, circled a few times, lay down and yawned and went back to sleep.

* * *

T
HE
NEXT
MORNING
,
Keely heard a car drive up. She opened her eyes slowly, disoriented. She was lying next to a warm, hard body that had her wrapped up gently against it. They were both under the covers.

Boone looked down at her warmly. “Ready for breakfast?” he asked softly. “I hear movement from the general direction of the kitchen.”

She curled closer. “I could eat.”

They were both on her side of the bed and had apparently been close like that all night. Keely felt so safe and cozy that she was reluctant to move.

Voices murmured downstairs, and heavy, quick footsteps came up the staircase. Hayes Carson walked in, his uniform a little rumpled, like his blond, brown-streaked hair under his Stetson.

He stopped, lifting both eyebrows.

Boone yawned. “I’ve got a gun,” he murmured.

“I haven’t said anything yet,” Hayes protested.

Boone glared at him. “To protect Keely with,” he added.

“Oh.”

Hayes marched over to the bed, threw his hat on the carpeted floor, climbed in next to Boone and lay back on the pillows. “God, I’m tired! I’ve been up all night helping interrogate Keely’s father and his friend.”

“Make yourself comfortable,” Boone drawled sarcastically.

“Thanks, I will,” Hayes replied. “This is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever been in,” he added. He reached down, scooped up his hat and set it over his eyes. “I could sleep for a week!”

“Tell me what you’re doing here first,” Boone said.

“In order to save his skin, Keely’s father made a plea deal. He gave us his friend Jock on a murder charge. It seems that Jock killed a woman in Arizona. He was the chief suspect, but they couldn’t get the evidence to convict him. Keely’s father has a watch that belonged to the dead woman, and he can put Jock there at the time of the murder.” He smiled under the hat.

“What about my father?” Keely wanted to know.

“Three to five, on accessory charges. We talked to the assistant D.A. last night, too.”

“Maybe it will teach him something,” Keely said, but she didn’t sound convinced.

“Don’t look for miracles,” Boone advised. “With lawbreakers, they rarely happen.”

“Like you know,” Hayes drawled from under the hat. He crossed his long legs.

There was the sound of another car arriving. A car door slammed. Voices murmured. Another sound of footsteps, but these were soft and quick and almost undetectable.

Kilraven poised in the doorway, staring. “Well, if that isn’t just like county law enforcement,” he muttered. “Walk out in the middle of an interrogation and leave the hard work to the local law!”

“Shut up, Kilraven,” Hayes said pleasantly. “I haven’t slept since night before last.”

“Like I have!” Kilraven shot back. He scowled. He shrugged. “Hell, maybe you’re right. A little rest might perk us all up. Hi, Keely,” he greeted as he sank down onto the foot of the bed and sprawled across it at Hayes’s booted feet. “Say, this is a really soft bed,” he mused, closing his own eyes.

There were other footsteps. “Isn’t anybody coming down for breakfast...?”

Winnie stood in the doorway, absolutely dumbstruck. There were four people in the bed. Two of them were in uniform.

“I’m not bringing trays up here,” she announced. “Anybody who wants breakfast has to come downstairs and get it.” She grinned. “There’s enough for company, too.”

“Are we company?” Hayes asked drowsily.

“Apparently,” Kilraven replied.

“I suppose we all have to get up.” Hayes sighed.

“It is my bed,” Boone pointed out. “And Keely and I were here first.”

Hayes sat up. He frowned. “What are you doing in bed with Keely?”

He produced the revolver from his pocket.

“Gun!” Kilraven exclaimed.

Boone just shook his head and laughed.

* * *

T
HE
GUESTS
STAYED
for breakfast and then went on their way. Kilraven was giving Winnie an odd look. She was subdued with him now. It was as if all the joy and bubbly fun had gone out of her forever. She knew there was no chance that he’d ever care for her in any permanent way, and she wasn’t the sort for temporary liaisons. It broke her heart.

Kilraven tried to catch her eye as he and Hayes headed out the front door, but she wouldn’t look at him. She said goodbye in a perfectly natural, pleasant tone and went back to the table. Kilraven was frowning when he left.

“Don’t you have a meeting with some visiting cattlemen today?” Winnie asked Boone.

“Yes, for a couple of hours. They want to see our artificial insemination labs.”

“I have to get to work,” Winnie said reluctantly. She glanced at Keely. “Clark’s already gone up to Dallas for a meeting with some investors, and Mrs. Johnston’s gone shopping.”

“Bailey will protect me,” she told them, reaching down to pet the old dog.

“You won’t need protecting now,” Boone said gently. “Your father and Jock are safely behind bars at the detention center in San Antonio. They don’t lose prisoners.”

“So we hear,” Winnie had to agree. “Make sure you keep the doors locked,” she cautioned Keely.

“Of course I will,” she said, smiling. “Don’t worry. I survived a rattlesnake bite.”

“You’re tough all right,” Winnie had to admit. “I’ll be back as soon as I get off work. Take care.”

“You, too,” Keely said gently.

Winnie bent to kiss her and Boone before she left for her job. She managed to hide her heartbreak from them. She didn’t want to spoil their joy in each other.

* * *

T
HE
HOUSE
WAS
very quiet, with only the two of them in it, both still in their pajamas. Boone looked at Keely with an expression she’d never seen on his face before. He got up slowly, pulled out her chair, swung her up into his arms and started for the staircase.

“Time for dessert,” he whispered, bending to her mouth.

“It was breakfast. You don’t have dessert with breakfast.”

“Yes, we do.”

He kissed her hungrily. After a few seconds, Keely forgot her protests, wrapped her good arm around his neck and kissed him back with enthusiasm. He laughed softly at her innocent eagerness, and proceeded to teach her the proper technique. By the time they got back to his room, she was ready for promotion to the next level.

He put her down long enough to close and lock the door. His high cheekbones were faintly flushed with the force of his desire. “It’s been years,” he bit off, his dark eyes blazing down into hers. “I want you.”

She was breathless, frightened, exhilarated, all at once. But those old scruples were grinding away at her.

“I know,” he said softly. “You want to wait for a ceremony. That’s weeks away.” He pulled her to him, pushed her hips against the hard thrust of his body. “Don’t make me wait,” he whispered huskily.