Texas Heroes: Volume 1 (2 page)

He shouldn’t drink this coffee. He should fall into bed and sleep around the clock, but he had to talk to Vondell first, had to find out if Sam had ever softened, ever regretted what he’d done.

“You look like something the cat dragged in,” Vondell drawled, in a voice sandpapered by years of cigarettes. Barely five feet and topped by frizzy red curls, Sam’s housekeeper had always ruled this place with equal parts of tyranny and affection. They all knew better than to tangle with her, but even she hadn’t been able to make Sam see what he was doing to all of them after Boone’s mother died.

“Thanks a lot.”

“Go to bed, Boone. It’ll all be here when you wake up.”

He scrubbed both hands over his face. “Did he know it was coming, Vondell? And he still wouldn’t send for me?”

For a moment, her hand hovered as if to touch his hair. “Boone, I wish…”

Vondell seemed troubled, glancing away toward the window over the ancient porcelain sink. Suddenly she came to attention, her gaze caught by something outside. “Would you look at that?”

Whatever Vondell saw, Boone couldn’t imagine anything on Sam’s ranch that could be worth having to rise to look at right now.

Then it struck him with the force of a hammer blow that it wasn’t Sam’s ranch anymore. It was his ranch, his and Mitch’s—that is, if he could ever find his brother and coax him back. Boone had found Mitch’s whereabouts several years ago before leaving on the mission that had ended his military career. Mitch’s trail had gone cold before Boone had gotten back on his feet. Then he’d met Helen and started down the road to disaster.

Too many years, too much misery. Boone had been fourteen, Mitch sixteen when their lives blew apart. Sam had roared out blame and hatred, lashed out in unreasoning, raging grief. It had been the beginning of the end the day he drove Mitch away.

“Boone, she’s gonna get herself hurt.”

“One of the cows or a mare?”

“Neither. A woman.”

A woman?
Last he knew, Vondell was the only woman on this place. He rose and crossed to the window, the flash of reds and purples snagging his eye.

It was a woman, all right, one like he’d never seen around here. Her slip of a dress sparkled bright with gypsy flair. She was out in knee-high weeds in sandals, for Pete’s sake, risking chiggers and ticks, never mind that a mama cow stamped restlessly only feet away from the woman reaching through the fence toward the cow’s calf.

And right now that woman was headed straight for trouble.

“What the—” Boone turned to Vondell. “Who is she?”

“I don’t know.” Vondell shrugged and frowned. “I didn’t hear anyone drive up.”

Boone crossed the kitchen.

“Wait, maybe— Boone, there’s something I should—”

“No time now. I’ll be back in a minute.” He was already heading out the screen door toward the small pasture by the barns.

Long strides brought him close enough to see a very shapely backside as the woman started climbing the pipe fence headed toward the calf, oblivious to her danger.

“Get away from that calf,” he shouted.

But she didn’t seem to hear him over the bawling.

Boone broke into a run as she neared the top. “Don’t go near that calf!”

She jerked around at the sound of his voice, losing her balance and tumbling inside the pasture. Boone closed the distance and vaulted the fence. He landed beside her as she scrambled to her feet, scooping her up and using his body to shield her. Half-shoving, half-carrying, he got her over the fence and followed with only seconds to spare.

Roaring her outrage, the cow hit the fence. The metal clanged and shuddered.

The woman in his arms shivered, the color draining from her face. Slender fingers clutched his biceps.

Her head just reached his chin. Over the adrenaline roaring through his system, Boone registered soft, tempting curves that felt much too good. “Are you all right?”

Eyes wide, the woman looked over at the cow now sniffing at her calf. Then she glanced sideways at Boone and did the damnedest thing.

She smiled.

Here Boone was, still trying to get his heart to slow down, and the crazy woman…
smiled
. Her eyes sparkled, her generous lips curved as though she had no clue how close she’d come. “My first day in Texas and already an adventure.”

He lost it.

“Damn it, lady—don’t you have a lick of sense? You don’t ever get between a cow and her calf unless you’re itching to get hurt.” His hands tight around her slender shoulders, Boone quelled the urge to shake her.

“I was only trying to help the baby.” Her chin went up in the air, and her eyes sparked. “How was I supposed to know he belonged to one of them?”

Her voice was pure sex, low and throaty.

He bent to her, all but growling. “You don’t climb into pens with animals you don’t know. That cow weighs over a thousand pounds. She could crush you without even trying.”

She didn’t back up an inch. “I called for help, but no one answered. Only a total jerk would leave that poor thing to suffer.” Her tone went frosty. “You’ll have to excuse my inexperience. There aren’t many cattle in Manhattan.”

“You’re from New York.” An accusation, not a question.

“Most recently. I’ve lived all over.”

A city girl. Just like his wife, who had hated every second spent in this place. At least his wife hadn’t thrown herself into dangerous situations, though. Not here, anyway.

In the end, he’d still lost her, and the memory turned his voice sharp. This woman shouldn’t be here. He wanted to know why she was.

“Who are you? What are you doing on my ranch?”

Gray eyes went wary, studying him for a long moment that made Boone’s spine tingle with unease. Fringed with thick dark lashes, a striking black ring around the irises, her eyes softened.

“Are you Boone or Mitch?”

He stared at her. “I’m Boone,” he replied, frowning. “How do you know my name?”

She stuck out one slender hand to shake his, her eyes still soft. Too soft. Almost like an apology. “I’m Maddie Collins. Your father mentioned you in his letter.”

He forgot the extended hand. “What letter?” Boone had only gotten a telegram, and that only after Sam was dead and buried.

“You didn’t—?” Her eyes darted to the side, looking toward the house. “He didn’t…?”

“Didn’t what?” His stomach clenched. “Why are you here?”

The woman named Maddie swallowed, then straightened, shaking her dark brown hair back over her shoulders as if preparing herself. In the sunlight, it glowed hints of red like the sky’s warning of storms to come.

Then her next words wiped out all thoughts of silky dark hair and husky voices.

“Your father left the house to me.”

“He…
what?
” But even as he waited for her reply, he believed her, this stranger in too-bright gypsy colors who didn’t belong here. He’d been crazy to hope that anything might have changed between him and his father, that Sam had regretted abandoning his sons.

“I’m sorry. I—I thought you would already know.”

Her regrets didn’t help. At that moment, he knew only one thing. He wasn’t through losing things that mattered. He’d been a fool to think otherwise.

Even in death, the man who’d been barely a father still denied him the only place he’d ever thought of as home.

Maddie watched the shock of her words reverberate through Boone’s tall, rangy body.

He turned away, a muscle in his jaw flexing. The wind stirred his tawny hair. Rugged and muscular, he could have been formed from the harsh earth beneath him.

He belonged here, and she didn’t. But she was here, and she would stay for the thirty days Sam had required of her. Maddie Rose Collins wasn’t a quitter, and she needed this place for a while. She turned her own gaze to follow his.

Crowning the low green hill dotted with pale limestone outcroppings, the house looked like everything a home should be. A place to cherish and shelter, nurture and enfold.

And it was hers, if she wanted it.

At this man’s expense.

“Do you know why he did it?” she asked.

His laughter was a harsh bark. “I don’t even know
what
he did yet.” He shook his head. “Like a fool, I hoped he’d changed.” Then he shot her a sideways glance. “Why did he leave the ranch to you?”

“He didn’t leave me the ranch, just the house and one acre. He left the land to you and your brother.”

Boone stared at her as if deciding whether to believe her. “I don’t understand.”

She tried to figure out how to explain what she didn’t really understand, either. She had been given a few facts, yes, but learning that the man who had fathered her had lied to her all of her life wasn’t something you just accepted. He was not Edward Collins, as she had known him, but a man named Dalton Wheeler who had vanished from Morning Star thirty years before.

“He said it was a debt he owed my father.”

“Who’s your father?”

“He was known around here as Dalton Wheeler.”

“Dalton Wheeler?” Blue eyes opened wide in shock. “He killed his stepfather.”

People think he killed his stepfather, but he didn’t. He confessed and then vanished to save his mother from the consequences of what she’d done
.

“He couldn’t have. My father was a gentle man. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“How would you know?” Boone frowned. “He died before you could have been born, unless you’re a lot older than you look.”

“I’m twenty-nine, and he didn’t die until four years ago. Only I knew him as Edward Collins.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“You don’t have to. Your father’s lawyer sent me proof. My father didn’t kill anyone.”

He turned back to study the house. “This was the old Wheeler place, all right, but Dad bought it fair and square after old Rose died.”

“The letter said that Sam didn’t know until years later that my father was alive.”

Boone shook his head, his jaw working. “You can’t want to be here. You’re a city girl. And my dad had no use for the last one who came.”

“You say
city girl
like it’s some kind of curse word. What do you know about where I belong?”

He was right, though. She had driven halfway across the country and she still wasn’t sure if she was crazy to have done it. She had no life in Texas, no reason to stay.

But it was only temporary. She was beginning her life all over, and she desperately needed time to think, to plan. Sam Gallagher had provided the place, and it had seemed as good as any to someone who’d spent her life on the move. In the meantime, even in her worst-case scenario she’d learn something about her father’s past, have a month-long vacation and a nest egg with which to start again.

But she hadn’t counted on spending her vacation with a tall stranger who had shadows in his eyes. She looked back at him, seeing utter exhaustion in his unguarded gaze.

But not unguarded for long, not once he knew she was looking. “You can’t stay here.”

“I don’t have any choice.”

“You do. You can turn around and walk away. I’ll pay you whatever you think you’re owed.”

She couldn’t believe his nerve. Before she could think how to respond, another voice spoke up.

“None of this is her fault, Boone,” said a tiny, redheaded old woman Maddie hadn’t seen approaching. “Now stop yelling and come inside, both of you. Sounds like Sam’s put you both in a pretty pickle, and no amount of getting mad is going to get you out.”

She faced Maddie. “I’m Vondell Cartwright. I’ve been the housekeeper here since Moses was a pup. Don’t mind Boone. He needs to go soak his head—” She shot Boone a glare “—and then sleep for a week.”

“Did you know, Vondell?” Boone’s voice grated, his face harsh. “Why didn’t you say something to me?”

“You just got here. You’re exhausted. Besides, you know your daddy better than that. He never told anyone anything until he was ready. I knew he was spending a lot of time with his lawyer and that nice young private investigator Devlin Marlowe, but he didn’t see fit to confide in me about his plans. Just asked me to hang around because you might need me.”

She turned to Maddie. “I don’t expect that you’re used to this Texas heat. Come on inside and let me get you a glass of iced tea. We can talk there, instead of standing in the noonday heat like mad dogs and Englishmen. You comin’, Boone?” She turned away as if certain they’d follow.

Maddie shot a glance at Boone to see what he would do.

He stared at the house, then out over the pasture beyond it. Maddie thought then that there was something unutterably weary about him, something almost…lost. She had no idea what to say to him, given the shocks they’d both received. Her temper drained away.

“I’m not planning to stay for good, but I can’t leave yet. I have to stay for thirty days.”

Boone studied her then. “Why?”

“Your father asked me to stay here thirty days to decide if I want the place. If I don’t, then only you can buy me out. If I let you do it sooner, the lawyer said the Caswells would get the house.”

“Dalton’s stepfather was a Caswell.”

“And from what I’ve learned, Buster Caswell used his fists on my grandmother until she feared for her life. I don’t think you want them to get this place. I certainly don’t.”