The Reluctant Rancher~Badlands (Contemporary Western Romantic Suspense) Page 5

  “Hey, boy! How’s my good boy?” She squatted down to scruffle his ears. “Sorry I didn’t come home last night. I spent the night with my boyfriend.” She grinned and went to feed the dog.

  ~*~

  “So, you’re going anyway? No matter how I feel about it?”

  It was the middle of the afternoon and Breck had come home from his drive around the Ryan ranch with his father. It was a Saturday ritual the two had performed since Breck was a young boy.

  Cami had only seen four patients that morning, after which she and Reba had driven out to examine an elderly couple in their home. The man was on Coumadin and needed his INR checked regularly.

  When they returned to the clinic, she and Reba had inventoried the medical supplies and placed an online order, while Loretta filed medical records and sent a request for payment to a big insurance company. All in all, a satisfying day.

  Now, she gazed up at her husband who looked like a storm cloud. She understood how Breck felt about Eldon Kincaid and had witnessed some of their confrontations. She tried to keep the emotion out of her voice. “I was hoping you would go with me. It could be a nice drive. You know, get out of town and spend some quality time together.”

  He expelled a guttural noise from the back of his throat. This noise expressed far better than words that he was totally disgusted with her reasoning. “And all this for the cold-blooded reptile who murdered Silky? I would think you wouldn’t spit on him if he was on fire.”

  She tilted her head to one side. “You’re wrong. I would definitely spit on him, even if he wasn’t on fire.”

  He shook his head, grinning in spite of his annoyance. “Cami, I swear! You could drive a man to drinkin’ straight whiskey.”

  “Not a temperate man like yourself. Just go with me,” she said. “We can make a good day of it.”

  “I’ll go, but I’m not happy about you spending any time with Eldon Kincaid. I can’t imagine why he wants to talk to you. Or why you would agree to it. After all, he tried to kill you too.”

  She heaved a huge sigh, her shoulders lifting and falling with the effort. “Trust me, I remember.” She was happy to have won a small battle…totally unable to fathom why Eldon would want to see her, but considering the conditions surrounding his confession, she was too curious to deny him. At any rate, she was glad her husband would be nearby to back her up.

  Breck turned to gather the pile of mail on the credenza in the entryway. He tore open the envelopes and separated the enclosures into several piles.

  She went to the kitchen to begin making dinner, a task she was still not very good at. She had thought herself an adequate cook back in Houston, but realized that most of her menus were built around food she had picked up on the way home from the hospital where she had completed her residency and internship. Where, she had thought to complete a fellowship in immunology and advance her career in medical research.

  But that was before she had met Breckenridge T. Ryan. Before she had returned to the town of Langston in the Texas Panhandle for her Aunt Silky’s funeral and before she had begun to suspect her aunt had been murdered. It was before the enigmatic Breck had changed her life plan by making her fall in love with him, with the town and its people and with the dream her aunt had set forth for her.

  Now, preparing an edible meal for her husband was high on her list of priorities. Breck would have had no problem cooking a great meal for her, but it was a point of pride with Cami that she would be able to produce simple fare for their evening meal. That was, she reasoned, part of being a country wife. This was what all the other wives in the area did, so she had decided it was her duty as well. When she informed Breck of her intentions, he had scoffed.

  “Well, all those other wives aren’t working full time as doctors. They don’t get called out in the middle of the night to deliver babies and provide medical care to the elderly shut-ins.” He had insisted that he was more than happy to pitch in with the cooking and cleaning, but she refused his help.

  Now, she stared into the freezer, sorry that she had forgotten to take something out to thaw earlier. She sighed and went to the pantry. A box of macaroni and cheese met her eye. She found a recipe on the back that only required a can of tuna and another of mushroom soup. “Got it.” After a short time she was able to call Breck to the table.

  “Tuna casserole,” he announced. “I haven’t had this since my mom was alive.” He kissed her temple and sat down at the head of the table.

  She passed the casserole dish to him, glad he was able to recognize it. “And peas…We have peas.” True, they had been frozen and she had nuked them into tenderness, but they had a somewhat balanced meal. Okay, so cooking wasn’t her thing, but she would learn.

  “Great meal, honey.” Breck beamed his appreciation at her.

  A flow of warmth to her insides gave her one more reason she was glad she had given up her dream career in Houston. Got a new dream.

  ~*~

  That night, E.J. was ready to turn in, when the house phone rang. It was a physician calling from his dad’s prison. He informed E.J. that Eldon was severely depressed and anxious. Eldon wanted his son to visit and was asking if someone named Camryn Carmichael was going to be coming too.

  “I…I’m not sure. I asked her, but she didn’t sound eager to see him.” E.J. heaved out a huge sigh. “You know that he confessed to killing her great aunt, don’t you?”

  There was a silence on the other end of the line. “No, I wasn’t aware of that. Perhaps he wants her forgiveness.”

  E.J. shook his head. “I can’t imagine, but I’ll ask her again.” He hung up feeling restless and far from sleepy. He paced around the house, looked in the refrigerator and then closed the door. Eventually, he made his way to the front of the house and spied his leather jacket; the one which he had lent to Jenna. A smile spread across his face whenever he thought of her. He put on the jacket and her soft floral scent enveloped him, gentle as a whisper, warm as an embrace.

  He went out to the stables to check on the horses. At least these were animals he could understand. All they needed was to be fed and watered, given some exercise and a little love.

  When he gazed into the eyes of these gentle giants, he could see why his dad enjoyed living on the ranch. He knew that part of Eldon’s drive to possess this land, was rooted in his desire to leave his son something of value; something tangible as his legacy.

  “Well, you sure did that,” he muttered. But instead of feeling entitled, he felt encumbered. The sprawling ranch and surrounding land holdings felt more like a burden than a birthright.

  In Dallas, there was a large home…a beautiful home where his mother had lived while Eldon was running the roads in the panhandle and west Texas. His mother had raised him with her gracious style, and with very little input from Eldon. His father had been proud of his grades, but rolled his eyes over the sports in which E.J. excelled.

  “What the hell is dressage anyway? Isn’t he just riding horses? And why is he playing soccer instead of football?” Eldon would shake his head, muttering that tennis was a sissy game.

  The one passion he and his father had shared was their love of horses. When Eldon had gone riding with him, he had been careful to ride western style. “Don’t let me see daylight between your ass and that saddle, son.”

  His memories of Eldon involved some resentment that his father had not been there for him as a teen, and he had not been available for his mother especially during her illness. He also felt resentful for the general feeling that he had disappointed his father.

  And yet, other people always told him that Eldon was very proud of him. He wished his father had found a way to show him.

  He rubbed the nose of the handsome black stallion, Stryker, his father’s favorite horse. Tomorrow he would have to broach Cami again and try to convince her to visit his old man in prison, although he could see no reason why she would agree to it.

  He secured the stables, and strolled back toward the house. Glancing up at
the overcast sky, he noted the clouds scudding by, shrouding the moon. Dark night. He went into the house to try and get some sleep.

  ~*~

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Sara Beth sat in her darkened house, the doors and windows locked. She rocked her daughter Cami Lynn, although the infant had fallen asleep some time ago. Sara Beth’s stomach was tied up in a knot. She was frightened and it was dark outside with no moon showing. She kept hearing noises, but when she crept to the windows to peer out in the darkness, she could see nothing moving except the wind blowing the tree branches.

  But, the feeling persisted that she was being observed.

  She steeled herself against her fears and laid her daughter in the crib. She snuggled a soft blanket around the baby and stretched to relieve the tightness in her back. Nothing to worry about. It’s all my imagination.

  Sara Beth pulled the door almost closed and stepped into the hallway. I just wish Nick would come home...or at least call me.

  She made her way into the kitchen without turning on the lights. She picked up the cordless phone to hear the last message Nick left, but the phone was dead. She clicked the on button several times, but there was no dial tone. A whisper of fear touched her skin, igniting a blanket of goose flesh. Being alone in the country with a young baby and no communication was dangerous. She turned on the pendant lamp suspended over the small table and fumbled in her purse for her cell.

  A barrage of gunfire exploded around her, shattering windows and smashing the crockery on her counter. The pendant lamp went out, but the gunfire continued. Sara Beth fell to the floor, clutching her cell. She edged her way toward the hallway and pressed one of the buttons; the last number called.

  “Hello?” a sleepy Doctor Cami answered.

  Sara Beth let out a little yelp. “Someone’s out there! Someone’s shooting at me!”

  “Sara Beth? Is that you?...Breck, it’s Sara Beth.”

  Sara Beth rushed to pick up her daughter and carried her to the relative safety of the hallway. She curled up on the floor, shielding her baby. “Doctor Cami...I think I’ve been shot.”

  ~*~

  Breck called the sheriff’s office and threw on his clothes. He pulled on his boots and went to his office where he kept his gun safe. He removed his Winchester 30-30 rifle and a handgun and was on his way out the door when Cami caught up with him. “And where do you think you’re going?”

  She made an impatient sound and stepped out onto the porch, shoving her arms into a jacket. “She said she’s been shot. Of course I’m going.”

  “I called the sheriff, but this could be dangerous. I can’t let you take any chances.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I will either go with you or I can take the Lincoln. Your choice.”

  The set of her jaw made him roll his eyes. “Get in the truck.”

  He slid the rifle into the gun rack and the handgun in the console along with a box of ammunition. Nothing like being prepared.

  Cami climbed in and slammed the door. “Hurry!”

  He started the truck and pulled out onto the road toward the Jessup place. They rode in silence, each with their own thoughts. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would take a shot at a sweet young thing like Sara Beth Jessup. Her asshole husband was another matter. Nick just didn’t have a lick of common sense.

  When Breck turned off the main highway onto the caliches road leading to the Jessup place, he could see lights up ahead. The sheriff had beaten him there. He pulled in clear of the two vehicles with flashing lights. He saw the house dark in one side with flashlights beaming around and all lit up on the other side. There were a couple of deputies outside working with flashlights and the wash of headlamps of one of the sheriff’s department vehicles. Breck tooted the horn a couple of times.

  The sheriff himself stepped into the doorway to frown out at him, a revolver pointing in the general direction of the truck. “Who’s there?”

  “Breckenridge Ryan,” he shouted. “And my wife, the doctor. Do you need any help?”

  The sheriff holstered his weapon and waved them inside.

  Breck climbed out, but not before Cami had thrown open the passenger door and taken off at a run toward the house with her medical bag tucked under her arm. Feelings of exasperation and pride duked it out in his chest. On the one hand, he didn’t want her involved, but on the other hand, he knew she would throw herself into any opportunity to save a life. He just hoped there would be lives to save.

  ~*~

  Sara Beth still sat on the floor in the hallway, clutching her baby in one arm and a kitchen towel to her neck with her other hand. She felt nothing, no fear, no pain...nothing...

  She was distanced from the events taking place around her. Like an alien being from another planet, she observed without emotion from inside the life form she had chosen to inhabit.

  The lights were on in the rest of the house except for the kitchen, where the hanging fixture had been demolished by the gunfire. Large uniformed men tromped around her tiny home, their boots like hammer blows on the worn wooden floors. Their presence miniaturized everything in the dwelling.

  She watched silently, a dwarfed creature in a giant world.

  “Sara Beth...honey…are you okay?”

  It was Cami, the doctor. She was reaching for the baby. Sara Beth gazed at her dispassionately.

  “Here, Breck. Take the baby.”

  Sara Beth screamed when Cami removed her daughter from her hands. She grabbed her infant and curled over her protectively.

  The infant cried out, that sound that all new creatures know how to make.

  Insistent hands reached to take the baby, to lift Sara Beth.

  “Let me look at her neck. Is that the only place she’s bleeding?”

  “Lay her on here.”

  She heard the sound of something being swept to the floor and she was stretched across her table with Cami inspecting her by flashlight.

  “I knew,” she said. “I knew.”

  “Knew what, Sara Beth?” Cami asked. “She’s got shards of glass all over her. See if there’s a hairbrush or a comb to get this out of her hair.”

  “I knew there was someone out there.” Sara Beth said. “They’ve been watching me for days.”

  “Someone was watching? Who?” Cami demanded.

  “I don’t know. But I could feel someone was out there.”

  Cami looked at Breck. “Comb through her hair to get the glass out...gently now.”

  “Where is she shot?” he asked.

  “I don’t think this is from a bullet. I think the flying glass nicked her neck. I’m just cleaning it up now.”

  “Lucky,” he said.

  “Extremely.”

  She felt the comb dragging through her hair. It was comforting, like when she was a little girl and mama had done her hair for her.

  “Sara Beth, I’ve butterflied your wound. C’mon off the table and let me make sure this is your only place you were injured.” Cami held out her hand and Sara Beth reached to take it, but when she saw how her own hand shook, everything crumbled inside her. She began to shiver all over and tears sprang to her eyes. She allowed the doctor to pull her to her feet and then felt her knees give way. Arms reached for her and she succumbed to the terrible fit of trembling that had been waiting to devour her.

  “She’s in shock. Take her to the truck, Breck. I’ll bring the baby.”

  The sheriff stepped forward. “I haven’t questioned her yet.”

  Cami put the baby up to her shoulder and covered her with a blanket. “Come to my place tomorrow, sheriff. You can question her then.”

  ~*~

  Jenna awoke in her own bed. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that after awakening the previous morning naked and enfolded in the muscled arms of the sexy E.J. Kincaid.

  I did him! I had wild, passionate sex with the best looking asshole in the entire known universe.

  She closed her eyes and wrapped the exquisite feeling around her. The lushness of E.J.’s hunky
body; the intensity of his kisses. A rush of lust swirled low in her belly. Her heart pumped a little faster with the recollection.

  “No-o-o-o!” she moaned. “I cannot be falling in love with E.J. Kincaid.” She threw back the covers and placed her bare feet on the floor. She dropped her head into her hands and considered her uncharacteristically wild and wanton behavior. She acknowledged that E.J. had been solicitous and kind, lavishing affection on her, even when she had been resistant. Her initial embarrassment had given way to a grudging acceptance. Perhaps it was the fact that a gorgeous man was paying attention to her after a long absence of any such considerations.

  He’s treating me like a…a girlfriend.

  In her recent history, even the men she had casually dated had not had any such ideas about an even tentative commitment. She exhaled as though ridding herself of a heavy burden.

  “Not E.J.” she whispered. Not the man she had derided for his city ways since he had arrived on the scene with his fancy degree in hand. She supposed he was qualified to manage the huge property his father had built, but his heart wasn’t in it. He was a city boy with city boy tastes.

  And now, she was going to take him to church. . .be associated with him in front of the part of the community that may not have witnessed her wild debauchery the previous Friday night.

  She dragged herself to the shower, enjoying the needle-like spray as it bombarded her skin with a cleansing rinse. She lathered her body with the shower gel, imagining E.J.’s hands on her again. Not Sunday thoughts…

  ~*~

  Cami had slept fitfully, hoping her unexpected house guests were comfortable and deeply concerned as to who might have tried to harm them. When she awoke, it was still dark. She listened to the comforting sound of Breck’s breath falling softly against her shoulder. She moved closer and felt his arms gather around her.

  But, she couldn’t forget the sight of the Jessup house ripped apart by gunfire or the vision of Sara Beth, dazed and bleeding, as she clutched her infant daughter to her breast. Who would do such a thing?

  During her internship in Houston she had ridden with an ambulance crew to the scene of a gang-style shooting and it looked much the same. Walls riddled with bullet holes; shattered glass crunching underfoot…but there had been more carnage. The wounds more serious, the dead, ignored while the young doctor tried to triage those still clinging to life.