Outlawed! Page 7

  The sun was falling by the time she finished making calls to the ranches where McLeod had worked. Each gave her the same kind of response to her questions. Yes, he’d worked for them. No, they hadn’t had any problems with him. They’d found him to be a good worker. Cheerful and cooperative. They’d wanted him to stay.

  By the time she hung up from the last one, she wondered if maybe she’d misjudged McLeod.

  Delaney showered and took the mail she’d dropped on the kitchen table the day before and a hot cup of coffee out to the porch. When she sat down in her rocker, she realized she’d also picked up the copies of the love letters Ty had left for her.

  Slowly she put the mail down beside her chair and began to read the letters.

  Neither the coffee nor the late-afternoon sun could chase away the hurt the letters left. Or the fear that settled itself around her heart.

  The letters were damning evidence of her father’s betrayal. They left little doubt Hank Lawson had had an affair with Ty’s mother, Marguerite Drummond. The letters appeared to have been written in her father’s scrawled handwriting and many of the phrases sounded just like him. What hurt her was the depth of emotion behind the words he’d written. He’d actually seemed to care for this woman. But who knows where Hank’s charm ended and true feelings began? He’d certainly charmed Delaney’s mother into an early grave. And, Delaney thought bitterly, he’d done a pretty good job on her, as well.

  Delaney reread the letters, feeling all the more betrayed by the man who’d had an affair at the same time he’d had a young wife and new baby girl at home. Why? It was something she would never be able to understand.

  The letters made her wonder if Ty might be telling the truth. Not only could he be her brother, but he could be the legal heir to the ranch. Her father could have left him everything, just as Ty contended. Hank had never made a secret of his disappointment in not having a son. What would he have done if he’d discovered he had a son right before he’d died?

  The love letters were all old, dating back to before Ty was born. There was no mention of Marguerite’s pregnancy or Ty’s birth, or any acknowledgment from Hank that he was about to become a father.

  Ty hadn’t known Hank was his father. Why had Marguerite waited so long to tell Ty? Had Hank known about his son? It didn’t make any sense, unless of course she was lying about Ty’s parentage in the hope that her son might be able to get her former lover’s ranch. But if the will Ty had was legal, he wouldn’t need to prove paternity. So why was he trying so hard, as McLeod had pointed out?

  As unpleasant as the thought was, Delaney knew she had to meet her father’s mistress and make her own appraisal of the situation. The Rockin’ L was at stake and she had to have all the facts to fight Ty.

  She folded the letters and put them in her jacket pocket as she spotted Jared Kincaid’s pickup coming up the road. Now what? she wondered.

  “’Afternoon, Del,” Kincaid said as he got out of his truck.

  Delaney groaned when she saw the wildflowers he clutched in his left hand. She couldn’t believe the man’s determination to get her ranch. And she wondered with a chill what lengths he would go to.

  “Thought these might cheer you up,” he said, handing her the bouquet.

  “Thank you,” she said, taking the flowers, “but the only thing that will cheer me up is information on who’s behind my problems on the ranch.”

  He dragged a chair around so he could face her and sat down heavily as if she’d added several years to his age. She saw the disappointment in his expression. And the suppressed anger.

  “I brought that, too, Del,” he said.

  She placed the flowers beside her chair, realizing she might have something to fear from Jared. In the past, she’d always figured she could handle him. But now she wasn’t so sure. He seemed far more angry at what he saw as her rejections. Could McLeod be right? Could Jared be responsible for the accidents on her ranch?

  “I called the state arson department,” he said slowly, as if pained by this whole conversation. “They’re sending a man out here this afternoon.”

  “And Ty Drummond?” she asked.

  “He was at the York Bar until closing, then spent some time with one of the local gals before returning to his room down at Lakeside.”

  “Alone?” Delaney asked.

  He shook his head. “The girl confirms his story.”

  “And gives him the perfect alibi. How handy.”

  Kincaid studied her, making her slightly uncomfortable. “I know you’re determined he’s behind this, but you have no proof. You bring me some hard evidence, Del. Otherwise I’m just wasting the taxpayers’ money trying to run down your suspicions.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, Jared.” She took a sip of her coffee. It had grown cold and bitter, but she drank it anyway, too stubborn to get more from the kitchen because she’d have to offer Jared a cup. “What about Rattlesnake Range?”

  “That’s the bad news, Del,” Jared said. He leaned back in his chair with an I-told-you-so look that concerned her. What had he learned?

  “Seems Rattlesnake Range is a company that buys up ranches. I did a little checking.” He shook his head. “Buys ‘em up at reduced rates after the ranches experience some ‘bad luck.’“

  She met his gaze. “You know this for certain?”

  “If you mean, can I prove it?” He shook his head. “These guys are good. But the word is that if Rattlesnake Range wants your land, sell before someone gets hurt.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” She looked out across her land, anger and fear mixing in lethal proportions. “Why would they want my ranch? And even if they do, if Rattlesnake Range is behind my bad luck, they’re wasting their time. I have no intention of selling.”

  Kincaid shook his head at her. “That was the attitude of some other ranchers, but they ended up selling for less than they were first offered. It seems Rattlesnake Range tries friendly persuasion first, but if that doesn’t work, they’re not above strong-arm tactics. At least that’s what I hear.”

  She glared at him. “You’re the sheriff and you can’t do anything about this?”

  He puffed up like a field mushroom that had gone sour in the sun. “Dammit, Del, these guys get away with it because they’re good. They don’t get caught. They don’t leave evidence lying around. I’m trying to warn you for your own good. If Rattlesnake Range wants your property, then you’d better sell it to them.”

  “Why don’t you try to find out who might be working for them, instead?” she demanded. “Or maybe I should call the county attorney in Helena?”

  Jared stroked his jaw for a moment, eyes squinted in anger. “I’m looking into Rattlesnake Range and who they might have sent to your ranch.” He let out a long sigh. “What do you know about this new hand you hired, this McLeod character?”

  Delaney had warned McLeod that the sheriff would try to pin this on him. “Forget it, Jared. I checked out McLeod myself.”

  “Then you won’t mind if I do a little checking on my own,” he said, pushing himself out of the chair.

  “I’m sure you will anyway,” she said as she followed Kincaid’s gaze to a state truck coming up the ranch road.

  Delaney hung around, watching the arson expert and Jared dig in what remained of her barn. It didn’t take long before Jared came over to the edge of the porch with the news.

  “Someone set the fire,” he said. “Made a gasoline bomb out of a pop bottle. Looks like arson.”

  “I already knew that,” she said. “The question is who?”

  Jared shrugged. “Anyone can get a book at the library to learn how to make a gas bomb, for crying out loud.” He stomped off in a huff.

  Delaney waited until the dust died behind his pickup before she drove into town to visit Digger. She found him arguing with the doctor about when he could be released from the hospital.

  “That’s a nasty gash on your head, Digger,” the doctor told him. “But if you’re still feeling good by this ti
me tomorrow, we’ll talk about you leaving.” The doctor stopped beside Delaney. “See me before you leave, all right?”

  “Got to talk to you,” Digger whispered the moment the doctor closed the door behind him.

  For a moment, Del thought he knew who she was and might be able to tell her what had really happened to him up on the mountain.

  “Gus tried to kill me again,” Digger said in a conspiratorial whisper as he motioned her closer to the bed. “He blames me for the cave-in. He thinks Del Henry and I killed him.”

  “Digger, Gus is dead,” she said gently. “Remember?”

  He nodded gravely. “I thought that, too, Winnie, but I seen him. No one has eyes like Gus. The damnedest color ever. I looked into those eyes, Winnie. Right before he tried to kill me.”

  Delaney took his weathered old hand in hers, sorry he was calling her by her grandmother’s name again. It only made her doubt his story all the more. “How could that be, Digger?”

  “I know it sounds crazy, but I think those space aliens have something to do with it. However Gus did it, he’s come back from the grave.” His rheumy old gaze met hers. “He was here last night, in this very room. Tried to smother me with my pillow.”

  Delaney blinked back the tears that rushed to her eyes. No wonder the doctor had said he needed to talk to her. Digger was much worse than she’d thought. “Are you sure it wasn’t just a bad nightmare?”

  Digger shook his head. “He would have killed me for sure if the nurse hadn’t come in and scared him away.”

  “Where did he go?” Delaney asked, looking around the tiny room. There was only one way out other than the window—the door in.

  “He went out the window,” Digger said.

  Delaney stared at the open second-story window. No screen. And the window was large enough. There was even a wide windowsill with flower boxes. She went to look out, gauging the distance between the flower boxes at the next window. She supposed someone could have escaped that way. Digger’s story was feasible. It just wasn’t credible. Was it?

  “Did the nurse see…your attacker?” she asked, hoping for Digger’s sake she had.

  He shook his head. “She pushed open the door, but was talking to someone in the hall and didn’t come in until Gus had gone out the window.” Doubt clouded his eyes. “It was real, Winnie. The space aliens on the lake. Gus.” He closed his eyes. “I know it was real. I need a little rest now.”

  She squeezed his hand, silently promising to call Jared and ask him to put a deputy outside Digger’s room. Just in case. “I’m going to ride up to Johnson Gulch Lake and check it out, Digger.” He opened his eyes in pleased surprise. She smiled at him. “I’ll let you know what I find.”

  “Be careful, Delaney,” he said quietly. “There’s evil on the Rockin’ L. A terrible, dark evil.”

  “Don’t worry,” she assured him, chilled by his use of her name. She agreed some terrible evil had come to the ranch. She just didn’t believe it was space aliens. Or Gus Halbrook back from the grave. “I’ll be careful. You be care ful, too.”

  Chapter Seven

  Cooper finished the last of the fence and went back to the ranch house to find no one around. He knocked several times before trying the front door. It opened, and he cussed Delaney for not locking her doors. Who knew what kind of scumbag would just walk in and take a look around?

  He wasn’t sure exactly what he was trying to find. Something that might give him a clue about who Rattlesnake Range had hired. And why. Starting upstairs, he made a quick search, keeping an eye out in case Delaney or Buck returned.

  The ranch house was exactly like the plans and photographs he’d been given for the job. He found Delaney’s bedroom and carefully opened the door. The room looked just the way he’d imagined it would: rich hardwoods from floors to furniture, soft cool-colored linens and drapes. The scent of her lingered on the air, making him ache in a way that confused him. With women, it had always been physi cal—that ache he understood; this was something entirely different, so different it was foreign to him.

  He stepped in to examine a photograph on one wall. Delaney was about eight years old at the time of the photo. She stood beside her father and a Morgan colt. Cooper had to admit Hank Lawson was what most women would consider a very handsome man. Delaney had his good looks. And his smile. But what Hank lacked in character, Delaney seemed to have gotten in spades. Even back then she’d had that fierce independence and determination in her dark eyes. Almost defiance.

  He smiled, realizing how much he liked that about her. Yet there was something else about Delaney that drew him to her. He wasn’t even sure what it was, but it scared the hell out of him.

  Downstairs, he made a cursory search, ending up in the office. It took only a few moments to find the letters from Rattlesnake Range. Standard offer proposals. Both signed by Thom Jamison. Both dated within the past three weeks. Nothing unusual about either.

  At the sound of a pickup coming up the road, he hurried out the back door and circled around to the horse barn, where he’d left Crazy Jack eating oats.

  “McLeod?” Delaney came through the barn door moments later.

  He looked up to find her in the doorway. Something about the way she stood, her hands on her hips, her jean jacket open, her western hat tipped back slightly. He felt a pull toward her that was so strong it staggered him. It was followed quickly by another alien sensation: guilt.

  “You’re finished mending the fence?” She was surprised.

  “Piece of cake,” he said, trying to shake off the strange feelings.

  “Then I guess you’re through for the day,” she said, leaning into a stall to check one of the new colts.

  “Yeah, I guess so.” He studied her, wondering what was up. He’d seen the list of ranches he’d given her beside the phone and figured she’d called. But he also knew the response she’d get from each. He didn’t think that could be the problem. It had to be something else. “The barbed wire was deliberately cut, you know.”

  “I know.” She looked around the barn as if making up her mind about something. Had Buck told her the truth? Not likely. Or maybe Angel had remembered him—and it was from some Rattlesnake Range operation.

  “I thought I’d drive up to Johnson Gulch tomorrow and look around,” she said after a moment.

  He didn’t say anything, relieved his fears weren’t warranted. “I’m sure it’s all just Digger’s imagination but…” She looked up at Cooper. “He thinks someone tried to kill him last night in the hospital. Maybe there’s something at the lake to—”

  “Prove his story?” Cooper asked.

  She smiled. “Yea, I don’t want to believe Digger’s as loco as everyone thinks.”

  “Yet you don’t want to believe Digger’s life is in danger either, huh,” he said.

  She nodded and smiled. “That’s about it.”

  “Would you like me to come along just in case…you might need me?” He told himself he planned to go up there anyway to check it. Going with Delaney just made it easier. But that little voice of reason inside his head argued he was making a mistake. Because when he was around her, he tended to screw up and forget he was only her hired help. He tended to think about things that a ranch hand had no right even to think about with the boss. About kissing her. About holding her in his arms. About making love to her. And it’s going to get you shot again and this time you might not be so lucky.

  Delaney seemed to be having a battle of her own. She obviously didn’t want to go alone, but she didn’t seem so sure about Cooper going with her.

  “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt if you came along.”

  She didn’t sound all that convinced, as if she had something to fear from him. Or as if she wasn’t quite sure she trusted him. He smiled to himself; she was a very perceptive woman.

  THE NEXT MORNING, Buck drove up in a cloud of dust. Delaney came out on the porch to see what was going on.

  “Someone’s cut a stretch of fence and a bunch of the twoyear-
olds are out on the country road,” Buck said, his face flushed from anger.

  She glanced over at Cooper’s camp. He’d heard and was already saddling up Crazy Jack. “McLeod and I will round up the horses. You get the fence fixed, then ride the perimeter and see if there are any other problems.”

  “I just can’t figure who’d do such a thing,” Buck said, his face etched with worry.

  “Yeah, me, neither,” she said, staring at Cooper’s broad back. She watched her new ranch hand for a moment, his movements sure and smooth, then she turned and headed for the barn.

  THEY SPENT the morning and part of the afternoon rounding up the young Morgans and herding them to a large, fenced pasture nearer to the ranch house.

  Cooper found himself studying his boss as she rode, surprised at her skills not only in riding and roping, but in doctoring the horses that had got caught up in the barbed wire. He’d known women ranchers before. But none as at home in the saddle as Delaney Lawson. She seemed as much a part of this land as the rocky buttes and the tall ponderosas. He was just as startled by her attachment to the land. It showed not only in the way she didn’t overgraze her horses, but in the way she’d rein in just to look across it—the way a woman looked at the man she loved. Cooper wondered if Delaney would ever look at a man like that. He felt a twinge of remorse at the thought of her losing her ranch, but shook it off as they headed back to the house. Sentiment had no place in this business.

  “I was thinking we should drive up to Johnson Gulch Lake,” Delaney said, after making them both a late lunch.

  “Whatever you say, boss,” he answered distractedly.

  “You all right?” she asked, intent on his face. “You’ve been awful quiet today.”

  He’d been quiet, thinking. A dangerous thing for a man like him to do, he realized. He grinned at her, wishing she weren’t so beautiful, so intriguing. “Don’t tell me you miss me minding your business?”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Actually, you seem pretty capable of running your own life.”