Lone Tree Page 8

  Yes, he had the situation well in hand.

  Yes, he was that sure of her.

  *

  Days continued to grow into weeks, and soon Lainie was into a second month at her grandfather’s ranch. As Reed had said, she’d been accepted into the Lone Tree family without reservation. But she noted that along with that acceptance, the two men in charge apparently felt not only did they have the right, but also the responsibility to butt into her personal life. She didn’t mind so much as she was amused, however, and touched, by the reaction of Miles and Reed to her growing friendship with Jackie Lyn.

  “She’s a good girl,” Miles said at one point. “Comes from good stock. Got in with the wrong man some years back, but other than that, you can’t go wrong with her at your back.”

  “I like Jackie,” Reed told Lainie as he sat in the passenger seat of her car. He’d hitched a ride into town to pick up his truck that had been serviced at the garage. “She’s had a rough time of it and deserves more than what she’s gotten. She fell for a real idiot. Man was stupid enough to try to rob Miles. I wasn’t around when it happened, but I understand the old man held him off with a rifle. Even butt-whipped him with it.”

  Lainie gave him a quick glance, then directed her attention back to the road. Miles kept currency on hand to pay at least partial payroll in cash in case of emergency, in a wall safe in the office, and that was a lot of cash.

  Reed looked like he regretted speaking so candidly, but at her second questioning look, he continued. “His name was Carl Henry Mason, and he’s in prison now. They got him on that and a couple more serious charges.”

  “Jackie mentioned him. Said he was the worst mistake she’d ever made.”

  “Hope he’s out of her life forever.” He glanced sideways at her. “If you’re meeting her for supper, you’re kind of early.”

  “Shampoo, haircut, blow dry and styling—takes a while—then supper.”

  “Whatever time it takes, it’s worth it.” He stretched his arm out to smooth her hair, then his hand traveled slowly to her neck and lingered there. “It’s pretty.”

  She felt that touch all the way to her groin, toes, and then it tingled its way back up again.

  She twisted to shrug his hand away. His hand dropped, but her action had been delayed and both of them knew it. Her eyes remained on the road, her hands on the wheel, yet she suspected he was as much in the driver’s seat as she was.

  Fortunately they were at the outskirts of town, and soon she pulled over and braked at the garage. Jackie Lyn stood in front of her shop across the street. Reed tipped his hat to her as he exited the car then he walked around to Lainie’s open window, squatted, and crossed his arms on the window frame. He stared in at her, taking his time as he always did.

  “Obliged.” His eyes said he appreciated more than just the ride.

  “No problem.” She was determined that the imprint of his hand on the back of her neck was, indeed, not going to be a problem.

  Their gazes held, amusement and challenge in his, I’m-not-gonna-blink-first resolve in hers. Finally, he straightened, tipped his hat with his forefinger and then strode into the garage.

  Jackie caught Lainie’s eye and fanned her face with her hand, as if commenting upon the weather. But the look on her face told Lainie it wasn’t the weather she was commenting on. Lainie shook her head, felt herself blushing, for no reason, checked her mirror for traffic, then made a U-turn and parked directly in front of Jackie.

  “Don’t go there,” she told her as she got out of the car.

  Jackie went there anyway, of course. “My, my. Lovely couple. Such...chemistry.”

  Lainie ignored her. Jackie readied her client for the shampoo, adjusted the spray of water and applied it to her customer’s head.

  “That’s too cold,” Lainie said.

  “Thought you might need some coolin’ off.”

  “Oh, for...Jackie, you—”

  “Best be careful what you say, girl. Seems I got the upper hand with this water hose here.”

  Lainie gave up. Once the shampoo was completed, she got out of that chair and settled in the one at the mirror without further comment.

  Jackie picked up comb and scissors. “Don’t think you’ve been completely honest with me. You must be pinin’ away for someone you left behind in California. No other reason for you to be keepin’ your distance from a man like Reed.”

  Silence.

  “Or maybe you just said no, thank you when they handed out common sense?”

  More silence.

  “Appears to me you got your share of hormones, though.”

  Despite herself, Lainie laughed. “Madame matchmaker, can you let it be, please? This is one match you won’t be making.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “When do you think you’re going to be through here? My sitting-down place is getting tired.”

  “Sure it is. You’re sittin’ on your brains.” She tugged her customer’s hair a little harder than her customer thought was necessary. “You’re surely not the smartest girl in the world, Lainie Johnson. You’ve got a steady and responsible, good-looking man interested in you. And I don’t care how much you deny it, you’re just as interested in him. He’s got a good job and a good future. He’s unattached—”

  “How long has he been unattached?”

  “Seems I hooked me a fish here.” With a grin Jackie reached for the blow dryer. “Heard he met somebody in college—the old man put him through school. Don’t know if you knew that—but nothing came of the relationship. Couldn’t stand the test of time and distance, I imagine.”

  “Miles put Reed through college?” Lainie wasn’t surprised he was a college graduate. Although he often reverted to a lazy drawl, dropping Gs everywhere, his speech and quick grasp of anything fired at him suggested a good education.

  “Yep. Hired him when he was just a fresh young kid. Must’ve seen his potential. The boy was an orphan. Lived with his grandma, but she’s since passed on. My folks say Reed and Miles worked out a deal where Reed worked off the debt, but I don’t think Miles was concerned with that part of it. He wanted a good foreman, and he got one.”

  The more Lainie learned about Miles, the more of a puzzle he became. “Generous,” she said.

  “Yep. Now he’s talking to Randy and his folks. They need a second-in-command out there. At first Miles and Reed shared the load, but this past year it mostly fell on Reed. He needs an assistant, and they’re grooming Randy.”

  “Sounds like a good deal for him.”

  “Better than good. Bobbie Ann doesn’t want to lose him for the time he’d be at college, but he and his folks know it’s a good deal. Better yet, my mama and daddy know it’s an excellent opportunity for the man who’s going to marry their baby girl. And my gut feeling is that Randy’s going to college.”

  After a short silence, Lainie asked thoughtfully, “Has he always been such a flirt?”

  Jackie’s eyes grew big as saucers and her hands froze in midair. “Randy?”

  Lainie exploded into laughter. It was doubtful that the timid, retiring Randy even knew the meaning of the word flirtation.

  “Well, girl,” Jackie said, shaking her head and letting her own laugh out. “That’s who we were talkin’ about. And you said my conversation jumps all over the place. Now sit up straight and let me finish my job here.”

  Lainie did as bidden.

  “Okay, I got it now,” Jackie said as she fluffed hair with her fingers. “You must mean Reed. Though I never thought of him as bein’ on the flirty side.” Her expression turned satisfied, as if she’d been proved right about something. “But I can’t say I’m surprised you see him that way. And I think I know how he sees you. There’s a sizzle between you two that a blind man couldn’t miss.”

  *

  Sitting in front of her computer in her cottage that evening, Lainie clicked into email, highlighted the address she wanted, and then clicked compose.

  Hi Alison,
<
br />   It hasn’t been two whole months yet, but I feel at home here. I especially like the laid-back style. Everybody works hard, but still has time.

  Rosalie gave me a tour of the main house and showed me a bedroom with a canopy-covered bed in shades of orchid and purple, Mama’s favorite colors. Rosalie explained it’d been Miles’s daughter’s room, and he’d refused to change it in any way. She and Angie clean it every week, just like all the other rooms.

  I want to get back in there. There were things on the desk and dresser, picture frames and such, and I want to take my time and look at everything. But it’s in the back of the house, near Miles’s personal quarters, and I can’t just wander around there on my own.

  Regarding Miles, he’s still an enigma and probably always will be. Mom had a hard side to her—Dad and I didn’t cross her unless we had to—and she and her father were most likely just too much alike. When they went head to head, neither one would back down, and they both lost. I can’t think of anything more tragic or stupid. At times I feel angry enough I wish I could knock both their heads together. But of course I don’t know all of the story, and probably never will.

  The most intriguing personality here belongs to Reed. I already told you about him. Believe me, if I let myself, I could fall for him in a big way. But I’d be a fool to let that happen. I’m carrying too many secrets to become involved in a romantic relationship.

  Yet I feel like a fool for letting him get away.

  “Oh, what a tangled web we weave...”

  Lainie typed her name, clicked send, then leaned back in her chair and stared at the monitor.

  Yes, she was trapped by the web she’d woven, yet part of her continued to hold back from leveling with her grandfather. She still blamed him for the pain she’d seen in her mother. And Lainie still didn’t know what role he’d played in the relationship between her parents. Until she was able to trust Miles Auburn, she had to continue to hold herself in reserve. Regardless of what it cost her.

  Chapter Ten

  Temper was a hard one for Carl Henry. It’d already caused him more than its share of grief, and it’d just done it again.

  Taggart wasn’t the biggest buck in the yard, but he was the meanest and he was a former boxer. He wasn’t a man to fool with. When they’d bumped into each other, Carl should’ve kept his eyes down and mouth shut. Instead, he’d mouthed off and pushed back, and everybody knew that nobody pushed the boxer around.

  Sure enough, Taggart found him in laundry before twenty-four hours had passed. The guard’s attention was on a scuffle that broke out in the doorway—most likely engineered by Tag—while Tag took care of Carl Henry.

  Because he was no match for the boxer, Carl simply hunched up to protect his head and groin and took blows upon his shoulders without offering resistance. But when Tag smashed a fist into his ear, a bolt of pain rocked Carl’s head back and then a roundhouse exploded on his jaw that put him down. He wound himself into a ball, but was unable to protect his kidneys and he got rocked by a brutal kick.

  As Carl had hoped, Tag soon tired of the one-sided contest. One more well-placed kick, a muttered oath and then he was gone.

  Carl Henry remained on his side, doubled up and breathing in shallow pants. While he waited for his vision to clear, his mind filled with images of payback. But it wasn’t Taggart in those images. Those do-nothing idiots on the parole board were responsible for the fix he was in, and they’d pay. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know who they were. Anyone on the outside would do; they were all alike.

  Then there were those special two in that nothing little town he’d come from who’d put him here in the first place. They needed payback. Oh, yes, indeedy, they needed payback in the worst way.

  Violence was part of Carl Henry. He understood and accepted it in Taggart, and he’d accepted it in Miles Auburn. The old man had the drop on Carl, had whipped him with the stock of his rifle, and that had been the man’s due—Carl Henry had been caught red-handed. What he didn’t accept was that the old man had then brought the law into it. Once arrested and jailed, a train of events got started and didn’t stop until Carl was convicted of breaking and entering, attempted robbery, then rape and attempted murder. The more serious episode had happened two months earlier, but the connection wasn’t made until Carl was in custody. He’d thought the man was dead when he’d turned his attention to the woman, but not so. Carl was convicted on his testimony. The girlfriend had been too traumatized to testify.

  As far as sex was concerned, it wasn’t that force was necessary; it was merely preferable. He wasn’t bad looking, could turn the charm on and off at will, but he liked sex better when it was violent. When she was scared like she should be and it showed. Jackie Lyn had found that out, early on, and she’d be reminded again, real soon, when he got out of here. Little Miss Priss had refused to give him an alibi when he needed it, and for that she would pay.

  And he was getting out of here. His ma was finally doing what she was supposed to do—take care of her son. She’d hired a new lawyer, one who specialized in paroles, and the dude had put together a pretty good case. It was so positive, Carl didn’t even recognize himself.

  He felt it in his bones. This time he was going to do it. He was on his way out.

  Chapter Eleven

  The annual rodeo, scheduled for August, was not only the talk of the town, the subject also dominated mealtime conversations at Lone Tree. Randy and friends had decided they needed practice, Miles had allowed them to cull livestock from the herd, and the men had put together a makeshift arena at the fairgrounds.

  At supper one evening, Reed nodded at Randy’s suggestion that he drive out to watch the evening’s practice session, and as he rose from his chair he glanced down at Lainie. “Come along?”

  Doubting that he had romance in mind—what with all the cattle and cowboys—she nodded. “Thanks.” It sounded interesting.

  “Best be careful where you put your feet,” Miles said mildly, and that got her into her boots faster than the threat of snakes had.

  During the drive, she asked Reed if he’d signed up for any rodeo events.

  “Nope.” His lips curved. “That’s not what I’m good at.”

  Watching his profile, she decided not to ask him what he was good at. He’d probably tell her.

  As she exited the truck, she saw Bobbie Ann and another woman at the far end where the cowboys were gathered. That appeared to be the business end of things, but Reed seemed content here, so Lainie stayed put and exchanged waves with Bobbie.

  The steers were bunched into narrow runways, driven forward to a gate, prodded singly into the arena and cowboys took turns roping. Flies hovered as the steers were herded near where Reed and Lainie stood, and the smell became intense. Lainie backed a step just as the nearest animal swished its tail. The stink grew suddenly stronger and she felt something warm and wet on her stomach, just below her bra. She looked down at her pretty black-and-white-checkered shirt with black braid trim.

  “Shit!”

  Reed’s head jerked around, eyes wide at her language, then his gaze dropped to her shirt. “Yep. That’s what it is, all right.” He looked away, expression strained. Lainie paid little attention.

  The gross...stuff...was revolting. The stench alone gagged her.

  Carefully, nose and face wrinkled at the smell, she pulled the garment free from her jeans, then unbuttoned it, cuffs first. By the time she got to the second cuff, she had Reed’s attention. By the time she reached the last button down the front, she had everybody’s attention.

  The smelly brown mound was on the right side, and she gingerly extricated that arm first, heedless of her audience. Then, holding her left arm straight out from her body, she pulled the offending shirt free. With great distaste, she wadded it up and plopped it at the feet of the nearest steer.

  She pivoted to Reed and shot out her hand. “Keys,” she demanded.

  His gaze rose from her black lace bra to her eyes. If he didn’t close his
mouth, he was going to catch one of those flies.

  “Keys!” she snapped, waggling her hand. “You can get a ride. I need the truck.”

  She had to get out of there and go get a shower. The stuff had soaked through the shirt and touched her skin. Her skin! It was on her skin!

  At the back of her mind she was aware of the spectacle she was making of herself. The only clean bra she had left this morning was this flimsy, expensive piece of lingerie she’d bought in a weak moment, just because it was pretty. And now she was parading around in it, in front of a dozen or so cowboys.

  Reed’s attention was again riveted on the black lace and what it wasn’t covering, but he’d regained enough sense to dig into his pocket and he came up with the keys. She grabbed them and stomped off to the pickup in her boots, jeans, bra, and straw hat.

  She climbed up into the red truck, slammed the door and took off in a hurry, leaving a wake of dust—and several pairs of stunned eyes—behind her.

  *

  Lainie arrived at Jackie’s house for supper, bowl of green salad in hand and stoic expression in place. It’d only been yesterday she’d shown everybody her pretty black bra, and she’d been tempted to cancel tonight’s plans, but had told herself that some things in life one just had to deal with. Putting this one off wasn’t going to make it any easier to handle.

  Jackie said nothing when opening the door, just gave her guest a big toothy grin. Lainie ignored her and headed for the kitchen where a pot of beans and bacon was simmering.

  Her friend’s amused drawl followed her. “I’ve been asked a question by a whole bunch of people—mostly of the male persuasion—that I can’t answer. Guess they’re hopin’ I’ll get the answer out of you.”

  When Jackie joined her in the kitchen, Lainie wouldn’t meet her eyes.

  “Was that a bikini top you were wearin’ at the practice arena yesterday, or was it a bra?”

  Lainie opened the oven door. The cornbread was starting to brown. She helped herself to dishes in the cabinet and set the tiny kitchen table for the two of them.