Nevada Heat (24 page)

Jesse pointed down at the cluster of false-fronted buildings and said on a half chuckle, "Coldwater ain't a helluva lot bigger than that." His hand dropped to his side. "Got a few more folks than you do here, but that's about it."

"Did you live in town?"

He shook his head. "No. Had a ranch about twenty miles outside of town."

"Had?" she asked quietly.

Jesse looked over his shoulder at her and shrugged, but his pain-racked gaze gave the lie to his seeming indifference. "Have, I guess. Didn't sell it or nothin'. The place is prob'ly a tumbledown mess by now, though."

Miranda took a step closer to him, but kept a watchful eye on the edge of the rock. "Tell me about it. What's your ranch like?"

He stared off into the distance. "Now? Who knows?" He inhaled and blew it out in a rush. "Couple of years ago it was a nice place. Trees, plenty of water, miles of grazing land."

"The house?"

"The house, well…" He pushed one hand through his hair and snorted. "She wasn't much. Me and —“ He broke off, swallowed convulsively, and started again differently. "I was so busy tryin' to get the barn and the corral up, the house kinda got short shrift. It's small. Not hardly room to turn around in, but we built it so’s it'd be easy to add on extra rooms."

Miranda looked at him steadily. He'd said "we." She knew it had slipped out. That he hadn't meant to say it at all. But somehow she thought that he needed to say it.

"We?" she asked. “You didn't build it alone?"

She waited what seemed forever. Jesse's eyes closed to slits as he squinted into the setting sun. She could almost see him thinking, mentally weighing whether or not to speak. His jaw worked feverishly as he battled whatever demons haunted him. Her hand moved to grasp his in silent support and Jesse's fingers squeezed hers gently, acknowledging her concern.

"No." His voice was harsh and Miranda knew he was forcing himself to speak. "I didn't build the place alone." He inhaled and sighed heavily, the words tumbling out. "My brother, Carter, and me built it. Him and his wife, Della, did all the plannin'. Carter was the smart one in the family. Knew just how to do things. Always could figure out any sort of problem. Me" — he shrugged and smiled softly — “well, I could swing a hammer."

Miranda held his hand in both of hers and let him talk.

“Had lots of plans for that place." He glanced down at her, then turned his watery gaze back to the canyon. Jesse snorted. "Hell, listenin' to Carter tell it, the Hogan ranch was gonna be the biggest, best ranch in Texas." He nodded slowly. “Yeah, Carter was quite a talker." Jesse rubbed his jaw and added quickly, “But that man could work! I've known him to go sixteen, seventeen hours at a stretch, eat somethin', sleep for a hour or two, and be right back at it. 'Course, he expected everybody else to work like that, too."

Miranda's fingers moved over his hand slowly and she watched his changing expressions as he talked about his family.

“The fights we used to have over that." He shook his head and smiled fondly. "Lord, we had some knock-down-drag-out, root-hog-or-die fights in our time! They were fights I'd've traveled ten miles just to watch." His voice softened and his jaw worked again as he fought for control. “But Della didn't like fightin'. She was such a soft-hearted woman, she just couldn't bear it. Upset her somethin' fierce when me and Carter would go at it." He swallowed and looked down at Miranda. "She wasn't no weak sister, though. Don't think that. That head of hers was as hard as yours!"

Miranda smiled and leaned into him.

“You'd have liked her fine, M'randa. She didn't take no guff from me nor Carter neither when it come down to it." Jesse dropped her hand and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on top of her head. "Nope. No matter what Carter liked to think, Della was in charge of the Hogan ranch."

A long silence followed his last statement and Miranda knew he was letting himself enjoy his memories. There was more, she knew. He'd only talked about good things. Nothing to explain the sadness always lurking just behind his smile. And she wanted to understand, to know what it was that caused Jesse to keep such a distance from people. And for some reason, Miranda was convinced that Jesse needed to tell her.

A man as loving and gentle as Jesse Hogan was not a lone wolf by nature. She had to know why he'd chosen such a life.

Finally she asked quietly, “You keep saying 'was,' Jesse. What happened? Did Carter and Della leave the ranch?”

His arms tightened convulsively and Miranda wished fervently she hadn't spoken. They had to be dead. That was the only explanation for his strong reaction. His family was gone and she'd forced him to remember it.

"No. They didn't leave," he said, confirming her thoughts. “They're buried there. Side by side."

“I'm sorry, Jesse." Miranda tilted her head back to look at him. She wasn't surprised to see the pain in his eyes, only saddened that she had caused it. “I shouldn't have asked."

“It’s all right" He didn't meet her gaze. "You got a right to know."

"What do you mean?"

“I mean, you got a right to know why l ain't the kind of man you should have." His hand smoothed over her hair, then he pushed himself away from her and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“I know what kind of man you are," Miranda argued, and took a step toward him. "And I think it's up to me to decide what kind of man I want."

“No, it ain't up to you. And no, you don't know me." He backed up. “You don't know that Carter, Della, and her unborn baby are dead because of me."

She stopped and looked at him, more confused than ever. How could he possibly mean what he was saying?

"That's right. Me." He pulled his hands from his pockets and slammed one balled fist into the rock wall behind him. “If not for me, Carter and Della would be alive right now. And Della would've had that baby she wanted so bad."

"What are you saying, Jesse? This makes no sense." She stood directly in front of him and stared at him until he finally gave in and met her gaze squarely. "Are you really trying to make me believe that you killed a woman? And your own brother? Well, I don't. It's impossible."

He snorted and shook his head. "Oh, maybe I didn't kill 'em. Not directly."

"What?"

"Shit, Miranda. I might as well have pulled the trigger! It's 'cause of me, they got killed. If I'da been home… like Carter wanted me to be… things would've been different."

"What are you talking about?" She felt him getting farther and farther away from her, though he hadn't moved a step.

His head fell back on his neck, he breathed deeply and sighed it out again. A twisted, mocking smile curved his lips and he directed his rage-filled voice to the sky above. “I'm talkin' about me leavin' the ranch. Carter and me had a big ol’ fight — one of our worst — he wanted me to stay put on the ranch — help him fix up the corral and such before winter." He reached up and ran a hand over his eyes as if he could wipe away the images in front of him. “But I hadn't left the place in months. I was itchin' to be out and about. Have some fun, maybe. Carter was a devil for work, and I was plain tuckered. Told him I was headin' for San Antone for a while. See me some new faces. Told him I was sick of lookin' at his."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Miranda cut in. "Why shouldn't you be able to come and go as you please? You were entitled to a rest."

He glanced down at her and smirked. "That's what I said. And even when Della asked me to stay, I said no. Figured it was just cause o' the baby she was fretful — and it wasn't due for a couple months. Knew I'd be back by then." Jesse looked away, rested the back of his head against the canyon wall, and propped one foot up behind him. "Carter was mad as all get out. Told me I was a good-for-nothin' fool, lightin' out when there was still work to be done. I told him what to do with his damn ranch and took off."

"What happened?" Her throat dry, Miranda waited anxiously for the end of the story.

"After a couple weeks I cooled down and went home. Figured Carter was some worried. What with winter comin' on and a new baby and all. Hell, we'd all been pretty fractious." His eyes screwed tightly shut, he pulled in a deep, shuddering breath and told the rest of his story in a rush. “I rode up to the ranch and there wasn't nobody around. Everything was quiet. Scared me. Figured maybe Della had some trouble and they'd gone to town. I walked into the house and tripped on Carter. He was layin' on the floor, cold as a stone, his eyes wide open. Two bullet holes dead center in his breast pocket. Della was in the bedroom. She, uh… she… was dead, too."

"Oh, God," Miranda murmured helplessly. The image he created was too strong. She felt as though she'd stepped into that empty cabin along with him. And now she was as caught as he.

"After I buried 'em, I found out all I could about who done it. Folks in town and a couple of neighbors saw a stranger hangin' around who all of a sudden wasn't around anymore. Couldn't tell me much, though. Then I left home to find him." Jesse opened his eyes and looked down at her.

She saw the shadows of the deserted cabin in his eyes.

"And I ain't about to stop till I do find him. I owe them that much."

“Jesse." Miranda moved close to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. She laid her head on his chest and listened to the steady thumping of his heart. Through her touch, she tried to bring him back to her. “It wasn't your fault." She swallowed and tried to steady her voice. “How can you blame yourself?"

He made no move to touch her. “How can I not? If I'da stayed home like I should, it wouldn'ta happened."

"You can't know that."

"One more man might've made all the difference."

“Maybe.” She held him tighter. "And maybe you would have died, too."

He snorted. “l did die the day I found them. Part of me is still back on that hillside. With them."

"But you're here. With me."

Jesse's mouth quirked slightly. “Yeah. And I ain't done you no favors, neither, Miranda."

“Jesse…"

He shook his head. “No. Just let it go, M'randa. I can't let anything stop me from findin' that man. Not even you."

“How can you find him?" She ignored that statement, tilted her head back, and stared up at him. “He could be anywhere. You said yourself you couldn't find out much about the man."

“True.” He set her aside gently, put his hat on, then picked up the basket. "Alls I know is he's a blond and he's got a Indian-lance tattoo on his back. Last I heard, he was ridin' a big gray horse."

"There're three grays in our corral right now! And how many blond men have you seen in the last couple of years?" She talked quickly, trying to break through that stubborn look in his eyes. And even as she spoke she knew it wasn't working. “How do you plan on looking for that tattoo? Do you make every outlaw you meet take his shirt off?"

He shook his head and turned away. "We best get goin'."

“Jesse!” She grabbed his arm and held on. "Can't you see how impossible it's going to be to find this man?" A slow, burning anger began to grow inside Miranda. "What happened to Carter and Della wasn't your fault! Do you really think they'd want you to spend the rest of your life looking for a vicious killer who will probably be hanged sometime anyway?" One palm flat against his chest, she added, "If that's what they would want for you, then you were wrong. I wouldn't have cared for them at all."

He gave her a patient, tolerant smile that only served to feed her anger.

"Someone, somewhere will catch the man. A man who kills like that will keep on doing it until he's finally caught. And hanged."

"I know. That's why I mean to catch him."

"That's not up to you," Miranda argued. “That's for the law." Why wouldn't he listen?

“The law ain't done much in two years."

“How do you know?" she said quickly. A sudden gust of wind whipped past her and she pushed her hair out of her eyes. "Maybe they've already caught him. You'd have no way of finding out."

“I know that a couple months after he killed Carter and Della, he came here. To Bandit's Canyon."

Miranda's jaw dropped. Her first instinct was to deny it. After all, the most important rule about the canyon was that no killers were allowed. She looked up at him and saw the truth in his eyes. He was sure of his facts. And that meant only two things. The killer was here. In her town two years ago. She knew him. She'd cooked for him, and most likely she'd talked and laughed with him, too.

And it meant that the only reason Jesse'd come to the canyon was to find his man and kill him.

Miranda turned from Jesse, moved back to the edge of the cliff, and stared down at her home. For the first time in her life, the canyon didn't feel safe.

#

“Why in the hell would you want to do that?" Dave slammed his coffee cup down on the kitchen table. He looked over at Shelly and noted that her determined expression hadn't altered a bit.

“Because I don't trust Jesse Hogan, that's why."