Gillian O'Malley fingered the crumpled picture she carried in the pocket over her breast. Rio Cardonza. Her young cousin would be very surprised to see her, that was for sure. When she thought of what he must have gone through, thinking there was no one to turn to all this time, it broke her heart. Her uncle had a lot to answer for, but at least he had confessed to his own guilt and attested to his son's innocence before his death. That was something, anyhow. She never had believed that Rio was the one who held up that gas station and shot the clerk.
She moved cautiously, carefully, limping slightly. The looming outline of the barn was her destination. She would find a place inside to curl up before the rain came. Judging by the scent in the air, it wouldn't be long now. In the morning when Rio came in to saddle his horse, he'd find her waiting. She had to convince him to come back with her.
Fortunately, she discovered that they didn't lock barn doors out here in the middle of nowhere. They hadn't even closed this door. Lucky for Cade McGovern, the ranch's owner, she didn't have larceny in mind. She stepped inside, her nose wrinkling at the pungent animal smell. A horse snorted restlessly somewhere inside the black maw. No one responded to the animal's restlessness. Good. She was too tired for long explanations right now. Thankfully, the ranch didn't seem to have dogs. That would have been the capper to a perfect day. On the other hand, how much more trouble could she be in?
Something brushed against her pant leg in the dark.
Fear rooted her quaking body.
"Mrrow?"
Shaking from head to toe, she closed her eyes. A cat? It had only been a cat? She exhaled deeply. A cat was good. If there was a cat, there weren't likely to be rats, right? The animal brushed her leg again. She reached down and let it sniff her hand before stroking the silky head. Yep. Definitely a cat. A friendly one at that.
"How about standing guard while I sleep?" she whispered to the animal. The horse stirred, whuffling at the sound of her voice. She couldn't see in the dark, but she guessed he was several stalls down from where she stood.
Horse, singular? That couldn't be right. Lily Garrett had told her this was a busy working ranch. She strained her eyes trying to see. She wanted to save the batteries that were left in her flashlight until she really needed them. On the other hand maybe she needed them right now. The barn had an empty feeling. Her nervousness increased. Where were the rest of the animals?
Being a city girl, Gillian knew little about ranching beyond what she'd seen in a couple of old movies. Still, something about this barn didn't feel right. Standing still, she strained to listen. In the distance came a sound that might have been thunder. Otherwise, there was nothing to hear. Maybe this wasn't the Circle M, after all. God knew she could have wandered anywhere by now. It seemed as if she'd been walking forever since her rental car broke down. Why did Rio have to go to ground in the middle of absolute nowhere? Couldn't he have picked a city? Cities were at least familiar territory.
Adrenaline spurted through her bloodstream at an unexpected noise behind her. She reached for her weakened flashlight too late. Something came at her out of the dark. It slammed into her, hard and terrifying, carrying her to the hard-packed dirt floor.
The prowler struggled like a wildcat, nails ripping a slice of skin down the side of his face before Keegan was able to grab both hands and force them to the ground.
He hadn't realized it was a woman when he charged the intruder. He'd been getting undressed to take a shower before the storm hit when he spotted someone slipping inside the busted barn door. He hadn't taken time to dress. He hadn't even remembered to grab his gun. He'd just pelted over to the barn, intent on protecting Bristol. If anything happened to his horse he'd be stranded here. Besides, Rio had told him a bunch of stories about cattle rustling and other problems that the Circle M had encountered long before he signed on. Still, the ranch should have been deserted. He figured everyone would be pleased if he nabbed someone in the act of some new sort of trouble.
Only, the feel of this slender body bucking beneath his had a shocking effect. One that she obviously recognized, as well. Suddenly she went completely still beneath him.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he promised.
"You've got that right, you bastard," she breathed.
She renewed her efforts, nearly breaking free. It was like trying to hold a supercharged eel.
"Calm down!"
"Never," she spat at him.
Keegan had no choice. He used the full weight of his 180 pounds to pin her down until her struggles waned and finally stopped. By then he was fully aroused and completely embarrassed. It had been a while since he'd had a woman under him, but his body hadn't forgotten what to do. Since all he wore was a pair of briefs, she knew exactly how much she was affecting him.
"Damn." He shifted a little, wishing he wore boxers.
"Same to you."
An unexpected smile curved his lips. While she'd stopped fighting him physically, he suspected she was simply conserving her strength before renewing her attack once more. The woman had spunk, he'd give her that.
"I'm sorry."
She snorted. "Get off me."
Her breath smelled of wintergreen candy. Strands of dark silky hair had fallen across one eye and her cheek. He had a ridiculous urge to brush it away — or bury his face in the clean fresh scent that probably came from her shampoo. Man, he really had it bad. He hadn't remembered how good a woman could smell. Or how soft she could feel.
"I said, get off me!"
Or how sharp her tongue could be.
"I can't breathe!"
"Oh." She was breathing okay. Far too okay for his peace of mind. Her breasts rose and fell against his naked chest. The thin material of her blouse wasn't much of a barrier between them.
In a sudden flash of lightning, he saw her eyes grow wide and wary. Did she think he was planning to rape her? The knowledge of her fear was more effective than a cold shower.
"I'm going to get up," he told her quickly. "But I'm warning you right now, if you try to run I'll bring you down again. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
Her quiet voice quaked with relief making him feel like a heel. Keegan rolled away, releasing her hands and getting to his feet in one quick motion. The woman didn't jump up right away as he'd expected. She rose slowly, hands adjusting her clothing. He realized what she was doing a second before the gun appeared, pointed straight at his chest.
"I don't suppose we can talk about this."
Gillian tried to control her shaking. "Don't come near me."
"Wouldn't think of it."
Lightning flared again. For an instant his body was revealed by a blinding light. All he wore was a pair of dark briefs. Very brief briefs considering. And that was a ludicrous thought, even if it would be a long time before she forgot the feel of that nicely muscled body resting against her own. Gillian swallowed hard. The gun trembled in her hand, heavy and awkward. Thunder rumbled, moving closer.
"Who are you?" she demanded. She glimpsed the flash of his smile.
"I think that should be my question."
"I'm the one with the gun."
"Good point. The name's Keegan. Keegan West."
"Keegan?"
"Hey, it's a good Irish name." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "It means small and passionate."
And she nearly blurted that his parents had only got it half right. She blushed at the memory of his potent arousal. Fortunately, he wouldn't see that in the dark.
"Your turn," he said.
"What?" How had he come to be standing so much closer? She hadn't noticed him move. He appeared totally relaxed despite the gusty breeze that sent the temperature plunging rapidly.
"Your name?" he prompted.
"Gillian. O'Malley." And why was she answering him?
"Nice."
His voice was a soft rumble that stroked her fluttery nerve endings adding to her complete awareness of him as a potent male.
"Looks like we have a few things in common, Gillian O'Malley."
She shook her head. He was much too close. This man was dangerous. "Stay where you are. We don't have anything in common."
"Sure we do."
With shocking ease he took the gun from her hand so fast she didn't have time to react.
"We share an English-Irish heritage and we're desperately attracted to one another."
"We are not! Give me back my gun."
"I don't think so. Amateurs holding guns scare me."
Every nerve in her body seemed attuned to him. The sudden clash of thunder made her jump. "What makes you think I'm an amateur?"
The flash of his teeth came again as he smiled. "For starters, you had the safety on. Now what do you say we make a run for the bunkhouse before that storm gets any closer. In case you hadn't noticed, it's getting colder. I don't fancy getting wet."
She was going to protest, but he took her hand in a warm, firm grip as another blast of cold, damp air swept in through the open door.
"Let's go!"
Going anywhere with this man was a bad idea, but when he started running, so did she. Her ankle gave out on the first uneven patch of ground. She would have fallen if he hadn't caught her.
"What did you do to your leg? Never mind."
He swung her up in his arms and started running again. Her heart began pounding louder than the growl of thunder overhead. Or maybe it was his heart; it was hard to tell. Wind lashed them with bits of dirt. Lightning illuminated their way. The heavens rumbled in ominous warning. By the time they reached the porch of the bunkhouse, fat drops of rain mixed with hail were smacking the ground.
Keegan set her down as if she was made of spun glass. For a moment, she'd had the heart-stopping feeling he'd been going to carry her over the threshold! She needed to get a grip here. Even if it had been a long day, she had to stop feeling so dazed and start thinking again.
"Lean on me," he offered after he opened the door.
"I can make it."
"I don't doubt it for a minute. I've got a feeling you can do anything you set your mind to."
She couldn't find anything to say to that. With a smile, he reached past her to flip on the light switch giving her her first view of the inside.
"Oh, no!"
"Well, I admit no one would give it a four-star rating, but it's not that bad," Keegan protested. "What did you expect to see?"
Wide chocolate eyes stared at him in consternation. "I thought this was the Circle M!"
Gillian tossed back her shoulder-length brown hair. The bits of straw gave it a nicely mussed, tousled look that was wildly appealing. She wasn't beautiful in the classic sense, but she had...something.
"What makes you think it isn't the Circle M?" he asked, rubbing at the scratch she'd inflicted. It wasn't bleeding, but it stung.
"There's nothing here! This room is practically empty. Lily said this was a working ranch."
"And Lily would be?"
"Lily Garrett. Over in Trueblood."
He watched Gillian limp forward, taking in the remnants of furniture Cade had left behind when he'd moved everything to the new spread he'd built for his bride. Admittedly the furniture in here was scarred and in need of repair, but considering this former bunkhouse was now serving as a line shack, he had no complaints.
"I've never heard of Lily Garrett."
"She's the detective I hired."
His gut tightened. Detective was practically synonymous with police. Just thinking the word was enough to give him cold chills all over. Being a wanted man was something he didn't think he'd ever get used to.
He walked across the room to where he'd tossed his jeans. Setting her gun on the table he took his time stepping into his jeans, trying to calm his thudding heart. Wind rattled the windowpanes, howling around the corners of the wooden structure.
Keegan tried to keep his voice bland. "Now why would a nice girl like you want to hire a detective?"
Her eyes fastened on his hand as he zipped his pants. He could all but feel that gaze like a lover's caress as it traced the path of dark hair that ran up his chest. Their eyes clashed and held. The flash of desire was unmistakable. Something about this woman stirred emotions he hadn't experienced in a long time.
Color bathed her skin as her gaze slid hastily away, stopping on his cheek.
She raised her hand tentatively as if to touch him. "I scratched you."
"Don't worry about it."
Her hand fell to her side and she inhaled sharply. No doubt she'd just noticed the newly healed scar that ran from his left shoulder to his breastbone. Her lips parted.
"The last lady came at me with a knife instead of a gun," he explained tersely. And he wished he could call back the words the moment they were uttered. "What did you do to your ankle?" he asked quickly to divert her attention. "Did I hurt you when I knocked you over?"
"No. I tripped over a gopher hole or something. Are you serious?"
"About the knife? Oh, yeah," he said grimly.
"I see." She tucked several strands of hair behind her ear. "Well, your bedroom approach could stand a little refining you know." The back of her hand pressed her mouth shut in dismay. "I didn't mean to say that."
Laughter spilled from his throat. He couldn't help it. The sound was practically foreign to him, but the more she tried to apologize, the funnier it seemed. She limped to the table and sat down, putting her face in her hands. He got control then. "Sorry. It's been a long time since I found anything to laugh about."
Red-faced, she lifted her head. "Glad I could help."
That only set him off again. This time as she waited, her features softened. Her lips curved in a smile that caught him unprepared. He wouldn't have said she was beautiful — until she smiled.
"You have a nice laugh," she told him seriously. "You should do it more often."
Disturbed by his unexpected reaction, Keegan reached for his shirt, pulling it on. Rain slammed into the building in wind-driven waves. "Always happy to oblige a beautiful lady."
"I'll bet. Look —"
"Shh."
Headlights, not lightning, winked off beneath the stand of trees that lined the driveway. In the next flash of lightning, he got a view of the truck. It didn't belong to Cade or any of his people. A local would have pulled up into the yard. He could only think of one reason for someone to stop there and kill his lights. The driver didn't want to be seen.
"You expecting company?" he demanded.
She shook her head.
"Then I think we may have a problem."
Keegan moved with the grace and speed of a predator. He was suddenly across the room, pulling on boots over his bare feet.
"What do you mean we have a problem? What kind of problem?"
"Ever fire a gun before?"
Saliva fled, leaving Gillian's mouth bone-dry. His sense of urgency sent blood racing past her pulse points. "No."
"Okay, crash course. You point this end toward the middle of the body and squeeze. Don't rush your shot. Take time to get the muzzle centered. Then, keep firing until the gun stops. Got it?" He thumbed the safety off the small nine-millimeter.
"I can't shoot anyone," she breathed.
"Trust me. You'd be amazed at what you can do when your life is on the line."
"Why would my life be on the line?"
"Because a couple of guys want to see me dead and there's a chance they may be in that truck out there. I knew I was pushing my luck staying in one place this long."
"Why do I think you aren't kidding?"
"I'm not." He grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair. "If I'm right, these guys aren't going to leave any witnesses behind. Let's go!"
Gillian gaped at him. "Go? Go where?"
"I'll explain later. I don't need your death on my conscience, too."
Too? This was all happening too fast. She rose to her feet as he crossed the room and threw open a window. Wind drove needle-sharp beads of cold rain across the floor.
"Are you crazy?"
"I'll lift you over the sill. Run for the trees."
"We can't run under a tree in a storm like this!"
"Gillian, get that sweet ass of yours over here right now. In a few seconds it's going to be raining bullets in here. Personally, I'd rather take my chances with the trees."
"You are crazy!"
"So they tell me."
He wasn't some muscle-bound weight lifter, yet he scooped her up once more as if she weighed nothing at all. She knew better, yet she didn't even have time to squawk a protest. She was soaked to the skin before her feet touched the ground. Wind tore at her sodden clothing. Keegan followed her out and thrust the gun in her hand.
"Run!"
Obviously, he'd forgotten about her ankle. She suspected this wasn't a good time to remind him. His grim expression didn't bode well for comments or questions. Gillian ignored the pain searing a path up her leg with each jarring step as she tried to follow him. She was pretty sure the ankle was only sprained, but this couldn't be conducive to healing.
The storm had moved right over top of them, but at least it masked the sounds of her flight. Keegan moved like a panther. The pounding rain and din of the storm didn't seem to faze him. She followed, biting her bottom lip to keep from crying out. Following him had to be the dumbest thing she'd ever done in her life, but she kept wondering whose death he already had on his conscience.
The gun was a cold scary weight in her hand. Despite his crash course, Gillian was pretty sure she could never actually fire the weapon at a person. Heck, she wasn't even sure it was loaded. Now probably wasn't a good time to mention that fact, either.
It was hard not to cringe at each clap of thunder. The lightning hurt her eyes and the thunder deafened her. No wonder someone wanted to kill him. She shared the sentiment. This was more insane than coming down here in the first place. The minute the Finders Keepers Detective Agency located her cousin, she should have told someone instead of taking it upon herself to try to reunite the broken family. She might die and she didn't even know why!
They ran behind the main house. Obviously, Keegan had no intention of going inside. He seemed to have a plan, but that didn't mean she had to go along.
Gillian stopped. Keegan turned back.
"What's wrong?"
Her scalp began to prickle. Keegan launched himself at her without warning, shoving her down onto the sodden ground.
The tree came down a few yards behind them with a thunderous crash. If the lightning had struck a little closer, or if the tree had fallen toward them instead of the corner of the house, they would have been killed. Protecting her from a pair of cold-blooded killers, only to have her die in the storm was not what Keegan intended. He hauled Gillian to her feet.
"Come on."
She appeared to be in shock. He'd feel bad about that later. If they had a later. The storm was racing past them, but the rain wasn't slowing enough to matter. They needed to reach the truck before the men who'd been inside realized he intended to take it. She was limping badly when he finally glimpsed it up ahead.
"Wait here."
Gillian didn't answer, but she did stop moving. Her hair and clothing were plastered to her body and she was visibly shivering. He had to get her away from here.
Keegan discovered the bastards had locked the doors. Lightning lit the scene, confirming his worst fears. On the backseat sat a duffel bag and a pair of crumpled uniforms, both plainly marked. Somehow, the killers had traced him to Darwin Crossing. He reached for the gun tucked in his waistband. Bristol's sudden whinny of protest carried over the storm's fury. They were herding the truculent horse out of the barn.
"Damn!"
They had the same idea — strand him here until after the storm. Only, they didn't know Bristol. The horse hated storms, but he'd been very well trained.
Keegan motioned Gillian to stay put as Bristol tore off across the field at a full gallop. The men were carrying Keegan's gear and heading toward the truck. There was no time to move back under the trees with Gillian. He flattened himself in the shallow ditch beside the road. If they bothered to look around, they'd spot him. Fortunately, the men apparently didn't like getting wet either. They were swearing volubly as they dumped his saddle and gear in the truck bed.
The engine coughed to life. Lightning offered him a clear view of the passenger, not that he'd needed further confirmation. Swearing under his breath, Keegan squirmed backward until he reached the nearest bush. Standing in a half crouch, he tried to melt back into the line of trees. There was no need to work his way back to where he'd left Gillian. She stood deep in the shadows nearby. Her gun was aimed past his shoulder at the truck and its passengers. This time, he noticed, her hand was rock steady.
Something inside him lightened. She was acting as his backup? She didn't even understand what was happening here, yet she was prepared to defend him. The woman was incredible.
She motioned him to stop. Too late, he heard the truck come to a halt. Doors opened. Powerful flashlights cut a swath through the darkness.
Keegan pressed against the bole of the nearest tree. The beam swept the ground scant inches from his position. Wind carried away their words, but he could tell they were arguing. Finally, they returned to the truck. Keegan didn't so much as twitch. The engine started again, but they didn't drive away. They drove right up to the house. They must have realized the ranch was abandoned.
"Has anyone ever told you you're a moron?" Gillian whispered fiercely.
"Wha —"
"You had them covered before they got to the truck. We could have told them to put their hands up and made a citizen's arrest."
The image nearly made him smile. "It wouldn't have worked, Gillian. They would have started shooting at us."
"You would have had time to shoot them in the legs or something."
He wiped at the rain streaming down his face with the back of his hand. "I never would have taken you for such a blood-thirsty little thing."
"You said they came here to kill us! We have a right to defend ourselves."
"True, but there's a problem with that. It would be our word against theirs, and they're both cops."
Gillian followed Keegan numbly toward the main road, stunned by his revelation.
"It's been my experience," he continued calmly, "that when it comes down to being believed, cops always have the advantage."
Gillian wiped water from her eyes and tried to make sense of his words. "You're running from the police? You said they were going to kill you."
"You've heard of good cop, bad cop? They're the bad cops."
"You're completely insane," she whispered.
"Don't worry. It isn't contagious."
Keegan looked back and Gillian did the same. The men were on the porch.
"What are they doing?"
"Breaking inside, at a guess."
"Why do they want to kill you?"
"Because I can testify against them."
Why did she believe him? "What are we going to do?" She was so cold her teeth were chattering.
"Get you out of the rain before you freeze to death."
"Great."
So insanity was contagious. How else could she explain why she was letting him guide her through the trees? When she thought about how ready she'd been to pull the trigger to protect this man...this complete stranger...
"Oh, God." She jerked to a stop, forcing him to do the same. "Are you wanted by the police? I mean, besides those two men?"
"In a manner of speaking. Could we have this discussion later?"
It was too much. Her tired brain couldn't cope. "I just came here to do a good deed. How could it backfire so completely?"
"Good deed, huh? I wondered what you were doing here. Ah, there he is! I didn't think he'd go far." Keegan uttered a shrill whistle.
A large shadow moved. Lifting its head, the enormous beast shook rain from his mane impatiently, and whinnied before trotting toward them.
"Taxi's waiting," Keegan told her.
Gillian didn't move. She'd never had so much as a pet goldfish. A horse was lots bigger than a goldfish. She took an uneven step back even as Keegan went forward. To her utter amazement and horror, Keegan grabbed a handful of its mane and swung himself onto the animal's bare back.
"Gillian?" He reached a hand toward her.
He thought she was getting up there?
"Oh, no."
"No? Don't tell me you're afraid of horses."
"Okay, I won't." The massive head swung in her direction, Gillian took another hasty step back and nearly fell when her ankle screamed in protest.
"How can you live in Texas and not know how to ride?"
"I'm equestrian challenged. We don't keep horses in apartments in Dallas.
Keegan muttered under his breath. "Bristol won't hurt you."
"He certainly won't. I don't intend getting close enough to let him."
"You can't stand out here in the rain all night."
"Sure I can. Or maybe I'll just go and throw myself on the mercy of the policemen."
Keegan slid off the horse, who pranced sideways nervously. Keegan grabbed her wrist before she could move away. His expression was as fierce as his grip. "Those bastards are working for J. D. Crowe, the mob boss."
"He's in jail!"
"That hasn't kept him from running his organization. Trust me."
"Trust you? I don't even know you."
Yet for some ridiculous reason she couldn't explain even to herself, she did trust him. She felt connected to Keegan.
His expression turned bleak. "Funny. I feel like I've known you for..." He shook his head and released her. The storm left a cold light drizzle in its wake. "I understand. You've got no reason to believe me."
It was the sadness she glimpsed in his eyes that got to her. Maybe she was a fool, but she did believe him. She was about to tell him so when his voice turned grim.
"I'm sorry, Gillian. You aren't leaving me any choice."
Keegan grabbed Gillian around the waist and lifted her onto Bristol's back. He'd expected her to fight him, but Gillian perched there rigidly, those impossibly wide eyes simply staring at him.
"I'm sorry," he said again, swinging up behind her. Bristol whuffled and turned his head at the unaccustomed feel of the two bodies on his bare back. Keegan reached around her to stroke the animal's neck, crooning to them both softly. "It's okay. Easy, boy. Take it easy."
A shot whistled out of the darkness.
"Lean forward and hold on to his mane." Pushing her face into Bristol's neck to minimize her exposure, he leaned over Gillian's back and urged the animal into a full gallop.
He hadn't ridden bareback since he was a kid. If Bristol hadn't been so well trained this would have been a nightmare. As it was, he had to make sure Gillian didn't fall off. The men wouldn't drive across wet fields even if the rain had almost stopped. Once they were out of range, he slowed Bristol to a walk.
"You okay?"
For an answer, Gillian shivered.
"Lean back against me so we can share body heat."
She resisted a second before letting him pull her back against his body. A mistake, Keegan realized instantly. What was it about this woman that got to him so fast?
Hell. Hadn't he learned anything from Alice? His former lover had fooled him completely — right up until she'd tried to kill him so he couldn't testify against one of J. D. Crowe's hired hit men. He was drawn to Gillian by more than mere physical attraction, but was she really so different from Alice? Or did he just want to believe that? What if she wasn't as innocent as she seemed?
"You're a long way from Dallas," he said against her wet hair. "What were you doing out here on foot in the middle of the night?"
Her breasts rose and fell above the arm he held around her small waist. Keegan curbed a desire to shift that arm just a bit.
She shrugged. "I got lost. By the time I figured out my mistake, the stupid rental car was acting up. I thought I could make it to the nearest town. Who knew there was no such thing out here? Doesn't anyone live in this part of Texas? There're no houses, no cities, no pay phones...."
Keegan chuckled as she turned her face to his, looking aggrieved. Gillian was nothing like Alice.
"No cell phone?" he asked mildly.
"My battery wasn't charged."
Maybe not, but the hormones flying between them sure were. She held his stare. For a moment he was tempted to taste those tempting lips, but she turned away, breathing fast.
"Go ahead and laugh, cowboy," she said breathlessly. "For you all this empty space is normal. My idea of roughing it is a hotel without room service."
"What would you say if I told you I'm really an investment counselor from Dallas?"
"Ha!"
"Succinctly put." He admired her sense of humor. "I wish I'd known about your car sooner. Maybe I could have gotten it running again."
"Forget it. You'd have wasted a bullet if you'd shot it to put it out of my misery. I'm pretty sure the transmission went. My aunt's car sounded the same way. Rattle, rattle, ka-klunk. Then nothing. Deader than my cell phone."
He smiled, inhaling the sent that still lingered in her hair. "You said a good deed brought you to the Circle M?"
She eased her death grip on Bristol's mane. "Mama always said no good deed goes unpunished. Only, for crying out loud, it wasn't this good a deed." She waved her arm to indicate their situation.
Keegan chuckled out loud.
"Go ahead and laugh," she told him. "I hired the Finders Keepers Detective Agency because they specialize in finding missing persons. My cousin ran away at 15."
For a moment he wondered if Gillian meant Cade's pretty new wife, Jayne. But Jayne was no runaway. Everyone knew she was H. L. Bateman's daughter. The highly respected breeder had been raising expensive, well-trained cutting horses for years. Buying Bristol had cinched Keegan's job when he'd ridden to the Circle M looking for work. The finicky breeder didn't sell to just anyone.
"What's your cousin's name?" Keegan asked, trying to think of another woman connected with the Circle M that Gillian could be looking for.
"Rio Cardonza."
"Hell. That's impossible!"
Gillian glared at Keegan over her shoulder, then remembered where she was and gripped the animal's mane a little harder. "Why is Rio's being my cousin impossible?"
"Well, for one thing, you don't look anything alike. For another, Cardonza is an ocean away from O'Malley."
"Our mothers were sisters," she explained. "Aunt Lara married Paulo Cardonza. My mother married Quillen O'Malley."
"Quillen? And you thought Keegan was odd?"
"Not odd, different. So why do the police want to kill you?"
His hand tightened across her rib cage. She was too conscious of that arm and the hard, lean body pressed against hers in an almost sensual embrace. Of course, that kept her mind off the jarring gait of the beast underneath them.
"We're talking about you, not me," Keegan said.
"Not anymore. I think I have a right to know what's going on, don't you?"
He was silent so long she didn't think he was going to answer. Suddenly, he expelled a long breath against her hair.
"They say I killed a police officer."
Gillian decided a flying saucer could land in front of them without shocking her any further. "Did you?"
"No."
"So tell them what really happened."
"I can't. I don't know what really happened," he expelled another breath in frustration. "I was more than half-asleep when she came at me with a knife."
"A female police officer made that scar on your chest?"
"Yeah. Fortunately, she'd never killed anyone before. She was nervous and her aim was off. Plus I wasn't asleep like she'd thought. I got the knife away from her, but in the struggle she fell and hit her head. She was alive! Conscious and everything."
The words tangled with some deep, painful emotion. Gillian sensed his grief and it made no sense.
"She started crying. Said she had no choice. Crowe's people had some sort of evidence against her. They offered to trade it with a fee if she killed me."
His pain was as tangible as the ache in her ankle.
"This woman meant something to you, didn't she?"
The pause was longer this time. "I'd thought about asking her to marry me."
Gillian ignored a feeling she didn't want to define right then.
"Alice dressed better than most cops. She drove an expensive car, lived in a pricey condominium. I knew, but it never occurred to me to wonder how she could afford it on a cop's salary. I surprised a murderer in her parking garage one night. Alice had been paid to look the other way and give a false report, but my presence screwed things up completely."
Pain underscored each word. Gillian decided against offering him a useless platitude.
"So what's the going rate for murder?"
His answer was slow to come, but she was relieved when it contained a hint of humor.
"Planning to kill anyone I know?"
"You're safe for the moment. Why didn't you tell the police what she'd said?"
"I did. They arrived minutes after I called for help. Turned out, they were waiting for the call downstairs. They were supposed to back up her story after she killed me. I got lucky and got away."
Gillian shook her head. "Is the entire force on the take?"
"Good question. I was trying to decide who to call when I heard I was wanted for Alice's murder."
"But —"
He nodded against her neck. "They must have killed her. She wasn't hurt that badly. But blaming me bought them time."
"And makes your testimony against the real murderer questionable."
"Exactly."
"And I thought Dallas had problems," she muttered. "So what are you going to do now?"
"Gillian, I lived in... Whoa, boy!"
Bristol stopped. Ahead of them stretched a rushing river.
"There must be a bridge," Gillian said.
Keegan shook his head. "This is normally a stream." Something large and half-submerged rushed past them.
"Not anymore."
He felt dog-tired, and she sounded exhausted. He turned Bristol around.
"We'll go back."
"To the ranch we just left?"
He squeezed her waist reassuringly. "It's the closest place. Don't worry, they'll be gone by now."
"And if they aren't?"
"I'll shoot them," he offered, only partly teasing.
"Okay."
He smiled at her easy acceptance. She really was tired. "Lean back, close your eyes, and try to rest."
"You have to be joking. We're on a horse!"
But after a few minutes, she did settle back more comfortably against his body. Funny how important it was that she believed him. Not one of the "friends" he'd tried to contact had. On the other hand, he hadn't told Gillian everything. She didn't know about the public and private fights he and Alice used to have. Alice liked making him jealous and her temper tantrums were legendary. Looking back, it was hard to understand what he'd ever seen in her — besides the obvious.
He'd been so tired of the whole dating scene by the time they met. She was great in bed, and they shared several common interests. She also looked good on his arm. Men always gave Alice a second look.
But she had never once made him laugh.
Approaching the ranch from a different direction, Keegan studied the scene carefully. As expected, the truck was gone. The men weren't likely to split up. Not only were they in unfamiliar territory, but if he wasn't mistaken, another storm was coming in behind the first one.
Gillian was more asleep than awake as he swung her down inside the barn. Taking a flashlight from the wall near the open door, he hunted around, discovering several old blankets in the tack room. They smelled faintly of horse and leather, but they were dry. Even he was shivering now.
He handed Gillian the blankets and tended to Bristol. The bastards had taken his gear, but Cade had deliberately left equipment behind. Keegan settled Bristol in his stall and came out to find Gillian tightly curled in a ball on some sacks of grain. The blankets covered all but a bit of her face.
He was about to wake her when his heart thudded to a stop and then started racing. Her wet clothing hung over a stall to dry. He'd planned on going to the main house to bed down, but watching her sleep so peacefully, he didn't have the heart to wake her again. Besides, staying in here was probably safer.
Keegan stripped down to his briefs and followed Gillian's example, hanging his clothes over a different stall. The clothes wouldn't have time to dry, but they'd sleep better and stay warmer without the wet garments. Spreading out the remaining blankets he lay down beside her. Thunder grumbled in the distance. Keegan wished he hadn't been right about the second storm, but the spring weather had been weird and unpredictable lately.
He pulled Gillian against his body and used the other blankets to cover both of them. She mumbled in her sleep and spooned tightly, fitting as if she'd been made just for him. He shoved that thought into a "do not go there" place in his mind and tried not to think about Gillian naked in his arms. Going to sleep was not going to be easy.
Something tugged him from the deep well of dreams where erotic images were playing havoc. A cat mewed in his ear. As he came fully awake he realized two things. Despite his best intentions it was past dawn, and Gillian was wrapped around him like a lover.…
Gillian stared sleepily into Keegan's eyes, watching them darken in desire. Her erotic dream mingled with reality as she lightly fingered the rough bristles that shadowed his face. He stirred and her stomach fluttered in reaction. The tip of her tongue sought to moisten suddenly dry lips.
Keegan inhaled sharply. "You're playing with fire," he warned.
His arousal pulsed against the bare thigh she had thrown over him at some point. The blankets lay tangled about them. Her nipples strained against the material of her thin bra while liquid heat pooled deep inside. Dream or reality?
"I'm cold. Fire sounds good," she whispered. Boldly, she traced his lips, shocked by the fine tremor of her fingers.
"Ah, hell."
He claimed her mouth.
Incredible sensations raced for dominance. She'd been kissed many times before, but never like this. The wanting was primal, insistent. Raw need clawed at her. Her lips willingly surrendered to his insistent demand for more. His hands tightened, drawing her firmly against his taut body. Anticipation hardened her nipples. They strained against the lace of her bra, sliding over the hard planes of his chest.
It wasn't enough — not nearly enough.
His mouth fused over hers, tongues mating, teeth nibbling lightly. Gillian moaned her pleasure. She felt his smile against her skin. He chased butterfly kisses over her face and chin. The scratchy beard added a shocking dimension of excitement, especially when he kissed the sensitive skin of her neck.
"Keegan!"
Her lips throbbed from his kiss. She felt, as much as heard, his rumble of satisfaction at the sound of his name, even as his lips found her ear. Electrified by the unexpected sensation, she couldn't prevent the small sounds of pleasure tumbling past her lips. Her hands had taken on a life of their own tracing patterns across his chest and playing with the fine hairs sprinkled there. He inhaled sharply when she found the small nubs of his nipples. Lightly she stroked one, testing his reaction. He made a startled sound when she bent her face to lick one and then the other. Pleased by his reaction, her fingers delved lower, tracing his outline through those sexy briefs.
"Gillian! Stop."
"No."
He gathered her wrists in one hand, raising her arms over her head even as he rolled her beneath him. She felt deliciously exposed and helplessly pinned all at the same time.
His eyes glittered fiercely. "You're making me crazy."
"Good."
Laughter crinkled the lines around his eyes. He kissed her until she couldn't breathe. His fingers deftly parted the front clasp of her bra and he parted the material, gazing his fill. Gillian had never felt so wanton — or so wanted. His eyes gleamed, hot with pleasure. He watched her as he lowered his mouth with excruciating slowness, deliberately prolonging the teasing.
She burned with desire, straining to allow him better access as his mouth claimed first one breast and then the other. He made a thorough job of it, sucking strongly.
"Keegan!"
"Do you like that?" Watching her, he let his teeth scrape her nipple.
A cry of desperate need wrenched from her throat.
"I see that you do."
She bucked, trying to force a more intimate contact. "Keegan, please!"
"I plan to, darlin'."
And he chuckled sensually, before claiming her mouth once more and freeing her hands. Instantly, she tugged at his briefs, releasing him so she could explore every velvety hard inch of him with insistent fingers. Now he was the one breathing hard. But when she would have lowered her head to taste him, he stopped her.
"I'm too close," he warned.
"So am I."
His hand slipped inside her panties. The contact was electrifying. Stomach muscles contracted and fluttered. Her body quickened, dampening with matching excitement as he cupped her there, testing the evidence of her desire.
She wanted him, right here, right now. Yet he was a stranger. A man she had just met. She didn't do things like this. So why did this feel so right?
Their gazes locked.…
Keegan sensed her hesitation. Common sense reasserted itself. What was he doing? He was on the brink of losing control completely. The last thing he needed in his life right now was another complication. Gillian spelled complication in all caps. This wasn't a woman he could have sex with and walk away from. This was Gillian.
And then she smiled, a siren's smile that rippled right down his body.
"Don't stop," she pleaded, her voice thick with desire.
To emphasize, she rubbed his nipple, pinching lightly. Coherent thought fled. He couldn't stop. Nothing else mattered but this woman. The need to possess her was compellingly primitive but he wanted more. He yearned for something he couldn't put a name to.
"Keegan!"
It took incredible control to temper his raging need now, but her pleasure heightened his own. The desire to please her as no one else had ever done kept him from completing their union. He held himself rigid, testing, teasing, loving her until neither could take any more. Then he entered slowly, still resisting the urge to rush. He relished the feel of each muscular contraction inside her snug, slick passage. She breathed his name in intense satisfaction as he sheathed himself completely.
That gentle spur coaxed him to move. Nothing had ever felt like this. He began to move faster, harder, yielding to her insistent demands. The natural rhythm swept them in a passionate current that could have only one outcome. Gillian climaxed beneath him, crying out his name. Keegan abandoned all restraint and followed her over the edge of the world.
Utterly spent, more satisfied than he'd ever been in his life, Keegan lay there savoring the incredible sensations. This emotional closeness he felt between them was something new. He didn't mind. He didn't want this moment to end.
Gillian stirred and he kissed her lightly, rolling to his back and pulling her along with him. She murmured something and snuggled against his side.
Nearby, Bristol stirred in his stall. Keegan opened his eyes, startled to see a surprisingly large barn cat sitting a few feet away. It stared at him in regal reproach.
"We have an audience," he told Gillian softly.
"What?" She rolled half on top of him to look. Her breast mashed against his chest. "Oh, the cat. We met the other night. It's okay — he's friendly."
"And a voyeur."
Gillian giggled. The light, happy sound made him smile.
"It is his barn. Maybe he was taking notes."
Disgusted, the animal stood and stretched, turning its back.
"I think we offended him."
"Then he shouldn't have been staring. And as much as I hate to say this, we'd better get dressed."
The mood shattered. Her body tensed. "Do you really think they'll come back here?"
"They might if they think I'll come back for my belongings. Why else would they take them?"
Reluctantly, he rose, skimming her body with his eyes. She made no effort to hide from his gaze, watching him with an unreadable expression. Keegan noted the marks made by his morning stubble and the puffiness of her lips. Some perverse part of him was glad he had branded her for all to see. Why hadn't he realized how beautiful she was?
Only the fierce need to protect her kept him from lowering himself back down beside her. Instead, he looked around for his briefs. He retrieved them as Gillian reached for her panties. Funny. He couldn't even remember pulling them off.
"I'd suggest going to the bunkhouse for a shower, but —"
"We should go."
"Yes."
Gillian grimaced, struggling into her still damp slacks. "Wish we had a dryer."
"There's one in the bunkhouse."
She smoothed a tangle of hair behind her ear. Her rumpled clothing and delicate color reinforced the sensual image of a woman coming from her lover's bed.
"You couldn't have mentioned the dryer last night?"
"I didn't think of it last night. Besides, you fell asleep, remember?"
They whirled as one at the sound of gravel crunching beneath a vehicle's tires.…
"Keegan, it's a police car!"
A gun appeared in his hand.
"You can't shoot a police officer in cold blood!"
He lowered the gun, his grin crooked. "I've got no reason to shoot him at all. That's the local sheriff. As far as I know, he's one of the good guys."
"Then tell him about the others!"
"He'd only have my word and I'm wanted for murder. He'd have to arrest me. If that happens, I won't live to testify. Let's go see what he wants."
Frightened for him, Gillian grabbed his arm. "What if you're what he wants? Let me go talk to him."
He looked surprised. After what had just happened between them, didn't he expect her to take his side?
"Gillian, wait."
But the sheriff had already seen movement inside the barn. His hand was reaching toward his weapon. Gillian hurried forward, limping even more this morning as pain moved up her leg. "Hello."
The hand stilled. "Mornin'. Would you be Gillian O'Malley?"
"How did you know?"
"Found your car a mile or so up the road."
"Well, I hope you impounded it for impersonating a motor vehicle. Piece of junk," she grumbled.
His lips curved, but never quite made it to a smile as his gaze darted past her. "Keegan West, isn't it?"
"Sheriff," Keegan acknowledged.
The sheriff looked from one to the other. So what if he realized what they'd been doing in the barn? Gillian squared her shoulders and mentally dared him to say a word.
"Cade McGovern asked me to keep an eye out for you, Mr. West. He figured you might hole up here after the creek flooded."
"We're glad to see you," Gillian interrupted. "Two prowlers broke into the house and the barn last night and stole Keegan's gear."
"City types," Keegan affirmed after a moment's hesitation, his voice dangerously soft.
Gillian could tell he was angry. She doubted the sheriff would realize the anger was directed at her.
"That how you got the scratch down your face?" he asked.
"I did that," she admitted hastily. "It was an accident."
"We haven't been in the house," Keegan said, ignoring the question and her answer. "After the tree came down I wasn't sure it was safe. Not much inside worth taking." He rattled off a terse description of the men right down to the make of truck and the license number. "They were armed so Gillian and I stayed out of their way."
"Smart thinking. I'll call it in."
Instead of using the radio on his shoulder, the sheriff walked back to his car. Keegan's features were unreadable. She rested her hand on his arm. "I'm on your side."
"Then let me handle this."
She snorted. "You haven't done a great job so far."
His lips parted in surprise. Gillian forced back the memory of how those lips had explored so much of her. She jammed a finger against the wall of his chest. "Let me tell you something, mister, I've never done that before in my life."
"You were a virgin?"
Another time she might have laughed at his shock. "Of course not, but I don't sleep with perfect strangers."
He looked from her face to her finger still buried in his shirt. Tension drained from him. "I'm hardly perfect."
"Cute. I'm trying to help you here."
"Getting me arrested won't do that."
She dropped her hand to her side. "No, but getting them arrested might."
"They have badges."
"Bet the sheriff's badge is bigger."
Unwilling humor skated over his face, replaced by speculation. "Why?"
Gillian didn't pretend to misunderstand. "I believe you."
"Because the sex was good?"
"Actually, the sex was fantastic, but if I hadn't believed you last night, there wouldn't have been any sex to rate."
His lips twitched. "Fantastic?"
"Skip the swelled head routine."
The twitch became a full grin. "That isn't what's swelling."
He caught her looking to his zipper. Gillian laughed out loud.
"Hold that thought, cowboy. Right now we need a game plan."
He kept underestimating her, but then Keegan had never met anyone like Gillian before. He doubted there was anyone else like her in the world. "Gillian —"
"Sorry to interrupt," the sheriff said, striding over, "but the storm's left a mess. If you'll grab your belongings I'll give you a ride to Darwin Crossing."
"I've got a horse inside." Keegan wasn't about to leave Bristol behind.
"But no saddle," Gillian said.
"He's well-trained. I'll follow you."
"And if those men come back?"
Her concern warmed him. Why couldn't he have met her instead of Alice? Ignoring the sheriff, he stroked her bottom lip with his thumb, feeling her tremble. He wanted to pull her into his arms and take her back inside and make love to her all over again. Instead he managed a smile, "Bristol and I can go where no vehicle dares to follow."
"You sure?" Sheriff Beaufort asked. "I can't spare anyone to watch the place right now."
"I'm sure. I'll meet you at Doc Zimmerman's place. She twisted her ankle," he explained. "It should be checked."
Beaufort nodded. "All right. I'll need to fill out a report on the break-in."
"No problem."
Meeting Gillian's concerned look, Keegan realized running was no longer an option. As if to emphasize that thought, she drew his head down and kissed him full on the mouth. It was not an innocent peck. Forgetting their audience, Keegan pulled her against his body and let the rush of desire stir to life once more as he returned her kiss.
When he released her, Gillian stepped back breathlessly, eyes half-shut. "Maybe we should go for stupendous next time," she whispered.
She limped to the police car leaving him standing there awkwardly beside the sheriff.
"Better tell Doc Zimmerman to keep an eye on her," Keegan warned. "She attracts trouble faster than a lightning rod."
The sheriff smiled. "I'll catch up with you later."
"I won't be hard to find," he promised.
He'd never planned to run in the first place. Things had simply worked out that way. Maybe Gillian was right. He had a feeling she often was. Darwin Crossing was a long way from Dallas. The sheriff had a good reputation. Maybe he could help.
Keegan had plenty of time to think on the ride to town. He wondered if Gillian would be shocked or pleased by some of those thoughts.
At the doctor's place he took a few liberties, making use of a clean stall inside the barn. After seeing to Bristol, Keegan headed for the part of the house where the doctor had his office. Several cars were parked in the dusty lot — including one marked Sheriff. Inside the door of the crowded waiting room a deputy took up a great deal of space. Keegan looked past him for a glimpse of Gillian.
"Keegan West?"
He met the deputy's hard stare. Tension knotted his muscles. Getting past the man would take more luck than skill. Keegan suspected he didn't have enough left of either one to make it back out the door in one piece. Where was Gillian? Surely they hadn't arrested her, too. "I'm West."
"Deputy Gooding. Sheriff Beaufort would like to see you."
"All right. Let me find Gillian —"
"Keegan?"
His relieved gaze swept her as she came down the corridor. She looked fantastic — until he noticed the crutches and the bandage swathing her ankle.
"It's a sprain," she hurried to assure him.
Only slightly relieved he took in the breezy print skirt, cinched by a wide gold belt that emphasized her slender waist, and the boldly colored blouse. The sheriff must have stopped at her rental car for her suitcase, but he doubted Gillian had changed clothing, fixed her hair, and applied lipstick for Doc Zimmerman's sake. That she'd done it for him made him smile.
"What's going on, Keegan?"
"The sheriff wants to see me."
"Why?"
Conversation in the waiting room died as people listened with unabashed interest….
"We'd like Mr. West to see if he can identify a truck," the deputy said reluctantly.
"You caught the prowlers already?" Gillian asked eagerly. "Great. Let's go."
"Begging your pardon ma'am, but Sheriff Beaufort didn't say anything about bringing you."
"We're together," she stated boldly, daring either man to contradict her. Their frowns were nearly identical but Keegan's features quickly softened. Looking ruefully amused, he gave the deputy a "what can we do" sort of shrug.
"The receptionist has my suitcase at the front desk," she told the deputy crisply. Pivoting on the crutches the way she'd been shown, Gillian headed for the main door as if there was no question of them agreeing. Her gambit paid off. The deputy muttered something about letting the sheriff handle her and went for her case.
The door burst open before Gillian reached it. Two wet, mud-covered cowboys staggered inside. The younger one was bleeding profusely from a gash on his head. Keegan rushed forward to support the injured man. "What happened, Zed?"
"His horse went down in the mud. Tossed him against that stone retaining wall."
'I'm okay," the younger man protested.
"Sure you are," Keegan agreed. "It would take more than a stone wall to dent that stubborn head of yours, Rio."
"Rio?" Gillian gasped. "Rio Cardonza?"
The young man lifted his pockmarked face to stare at her through dazed eyes. "Do I know you?" Fear suddenly crossed his features.
"How could you? You aren't Rio Cardonza."
If Keegan and the other cowboy hadn't been holding him, she felt sure the younger man would have bolted.
"What are you talking about, Gillian?"
"Who are you?" the man called Zed demanded.
"He's not Rio," she told Keegan.
"Rio Cardonza is her cousin," Keegan told the cowboy.
A young nurse bustled forward. "I don't care who any of you are. Get this man back in treatment room two right now. He's bleeding all over the floor."
Deputy Gooding set Gillian's suitcase down. As the men hurried to obey the nurse, the deputy turned to Gillian. "Rio Cardonza has worked on the Circle M for several years, ma'am."
Gillian shook her head. "You have it wrong, deputy. A man calling himself Rio Cardonza has worked there for several years. He may even resemble my cousin a little, but I promise you, that man is not Rio Cardonza. I want to know what that imposter's done to my cousin."
Keegan and the cowboy called Zed reappeared.
"Now, what's goin' on?" Zed demanded.
"Gillian is trying to locate her missing cousin," Keegan told him.
"Okay. So she found the wrong Rio Cardonza. It happens."
"Then why is Rio so scared?"
Gillian pulled out a worn, badly creased photograph and handed it to the deputy. Zed crowded his shoulder as the two men studied the image.
"This could be Rio," Zed said dubiously.
"You did say he ran away at age 15, Gillian," Keegan reminded her.
"That man isn't Rio." She turned to the deputy. "If you don't stop him, he's going to run, and we'll never find out what happened to my cousin."
"You don't know that anything's happened to your cousin," the officer said, looking from Zed to Keegan.
"Rio's scared about something," Zed admitted reluctantly.
"Okay, wait here," the deputy ordered. "I need to check with Sheriff Beaufort."
Keegan introduced Zed to Gillian. "Would you both excuse me for a minute? I need to use the radio in the truck to let Cade know what's happening. I'll be right back."
The nurse reappeared before either of the men returned. She glared at them, visibly annoyed. "Ms. O'Malley, Mr. Cardonza insists on talking to you. He has a concussion. He needs to rest. And you shouldn't be on that ankle. You can have three minutes."
Rio struggled to sit up on the examination table when Keegan and Gillian stepped inside the small room. Keegan held him down. The white tape covering his forehead nearly blended with his complexion.
"Take it easy," Keegan said.
"Are they going to arrest me?"
Gillian came forward awkwardly on the crutches.
"That all depends on what you did to my cousin."
"Nothin'. I swear it! He was fine, last I saw him."
"When was that?" Gillian demanded.
"Three, maybe four weeks ago."
"Four weeks ago!" Relief swept her features and Keegan realized she'd thought Rio was dead.
"We didn't figure anybody'd come looking for us after all this time."
"Where is he? I need to see him."
The young man clamped his lips together in a firm line. "I can't tell you."
"What do you mean?"
Keegan laid a restraining hand on her shoulder. "Why can't you tell her, Rio?" he asked gently.
"I promised."
"I'm his cousin!"
The man Keegan knew as Rio stubbornly set his jaw. Pushing him would get them nowhere. "Can you tell us how you ended up with his name?"
His shoulders lifted and fell. "We switched identities on the bus to San Antonio. He said it would confuse things if anyone ever came looking for me."
"You ran away, too?"
He studied Keegan, looked at Gillian, and sighed. "When my gramps died, the court wanted to make me a ward of the state. I didn't like the idea. I figured I could just disappear, you know? Gramps taught me about ranching. I figured I could get a job if I was older, like Rio."
"How old are you?" Keegan said gently.
"Almost 19, but I look older, don't I?"
Keegan smiled at him. "Definitely," he agreed. "And your gramps would be proud. He taught you well. Zed and Cade depend on you."
Rio relaxed. "Are you gonna tell them?"
"None of my business," Keegan said.
Rio's gaze shifted to Gillian. "Your cousin doesn't want to be found."
"I know," she said sadly. "He thinks he's wanted for armed robbery."
Keegan gaped at her.
"His father was an alcoholic," she explained. "He never held a job for long. Rio and Uncle Paulo had a fight one night and Uncle Paulo went to meet a couple of buddies. Rio snuck out to meet his own friends. Uncle Paulo stopped at a gas station on his way home. It had started raining, so he put on jacket that was in the car."
"Rio's jacket?" Keegan surmised.
Gillian nodded. "A young man was working there by himself. His brother was a friend of Rio's, so the youth recognized the jacket. My uncle wore a mask, so the boy thought he was dealing with Rio. He refused to hand over the money. Uncle Paulo claimed he didn't know the gun was loaded, but it went off and the boy was shot."
"Did he die?" the fake Rio asked. "Rio always wondered."
Gillian shook her head. "He survived, but he identified Rio as his assailant. The police found the gun in Uncle Paulo's car, but couldn't get any usable prints from it. Rio's friends swore he was with them. Rio and his father had a terrible fight and he disappeared. My uncle was later arrested for another armed robbery and confessed. Please, he needs to know what happened, and his mother really needs to see him again. Can you get in touch with Rio?"
"Maybe."
Keegan rested a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Tell him I'm here. Just to talk," she added quickly.
"Will we go to jail?"
Gillian flashed a questioning look at Keegan, who shook his head. "Not unless one of you broke a law. It's not illegal to change your name, and you're too old to be a ward of the state now."
Rio perked up. "Hey, that's right. I didn't think about that. I wonder if Rio will let me keep using his name?"
The door opened. "Time's up," the nurse said. "Deputy Gooding wants to see you both outside."
"I'll call," the youth offered, "but I won't tell you where he is if he doesn't want to see you."
As they stepped into the hall, Gillian jerked Keegan to a stop. "Go out the back. I'll stall the deputy."
"Not this time. I think Sheriff Beaufort will listen."
"But what if he can't help?"
He kissed the tip of her nose. "Then we won't get to try for stupendous."
* * *
In daylight, the swollen stream looked more like a river than ever. A cluster of men stood on the bank watching a tow truck pull a dark red pickup truck from the water, where it was jammed on its side between a dead tree and a large rock.
Gillian waited in the deputy's car since she couldn't maneuver crutches over the saturated ground. Unfortunately, she had a clear view as the body of the driver was revealed, wedged behind the crumpled steering wheel.
"Musta' got caught in the flash flood," she heard the deputy say.
"Is this is the truck?" the sheriff asked Keegan.
"You can see my saddle still in the truck bed. There were two men, sheriff."
"We're searching for the second body."
The deputy walked forward and peered inside. "Sheriff, you'd better have a look at this." The mood changed in an instant. The sheriff walked back to them with a grim expression. "You want to tell me why a Dallas police officer would steal your gear and saddle?"
Gillian's heart began pounding as Keegan shrugged. "I'm guessing they hoped to use my belongings to draw me out."
"Now why would they want to do that?"
"So they could kill me and say I was resisting arrest."
The sheriff looked from Keegan to where Gillian sat in the car. "I think we'd better go to my office for a chat."
* * *
Fear settled like concrete in her stomach. She'd pushed Keegan to do exactly what he was doing, but what if she'd made a mistake? What if the sheriff didn't believe him? What if the sheriff wouldn't help? Keegan might be killed and it would be her fault.
"You know I'm going to have to check your story out."
Keegan nodded. "I was hoping you'd know of someone we could trust."
"You're in luck. I used to work for Zach Logan."
"Isn't he the chief of detectives?" Gillian asked.
"I'd trust him with my life."
Keegan frowned. "Yeah, well, you're trusting him with mine."
The sheriff had no choice about arresting him since there was a murder warrant out, but he did offer Gillian the name of several local lawyers and helped her find a place to stay for the night.
Time inched forward. For such a small place, the sheriff's office was a beehive of activity. When the deputy brought Keegan a meal from the diner across the street, Gillian pleaded to go back and talk to Keegan. She couldn't stand the thought that he might believe she'd simply left him to his fate.
The deputy was reluctant, but the sheriff agreed, probably to keep her from pestering him any further. "Five minutes," the deputy said, ushering Gillian inside the locked cell area.
"What happens if I go over?" she snapped, her patience breaking. "Do I get a parking ticket?"
Keegan grinned. "You do like tempting fate, don't you?"
"I'm not the one locked behind bars."
"Touché."
He'd been lying on the cot and his hair was mussed as if he'd been running his hands through it. Gillian had never believed in love at first sight before, but she thought she could make an exception in Keegan's case. Even rumpled and behind bars, Keegan was incredibly appealing.
"Keep looking at me like that and I'm going to find the strength to pull these bars apart with my bare hands."
"How about if I punch the deputy so they'll lock me in the cell with you?"
"I like the way your mind works, but there're two cells."
"Figures. Two prison cells, but I've got to go to the next town over just to find a place to stay."
"City girl."
Her smile faded. "I know. That's going to present us with a problem, isn't it?"
The door clanged open again before he could answer.…
"It hasn't been anything like five minutes yet," Gillian protested, then stopped when Sheriff Beaufort strode inside.
"No ma'am, but I thought you'd both appreciate a little good news for a change. I just got off the telephone with the Dallas police department. It appears all three police officers, including the dead woman, were already under investigation for suspected mob connections at the time of the shooting."
Relief surged through Keegan. As grateful as he was for Gillian's unquestioning belief in him, it was nice to finally have something more concrete than that in his corner.
"Does this mean you can release Keegan now?" she demanded.
"I'm afraid not. They're sending a couple of officers here to escort him back to Dallas."
"Oh, no. How do we know they won't try to kill him, too?"
"Zach assures me the men were handpicked, Ms. O'Malley."
"It's okay, Gillian, I have to trust someone," Keegan told her, but he couldn't suppress his own mistrust after what had happened.
"I wouldn't worry too much. If anything short of an act of God happens to Mr. West at this point, the paperwork would take a lifetime to fill out."
Keegan found himself sharing a grin with the sheriff, but Gillian looked less than amused.
"Besides," the sheriff continued. "There isn't much point in killing Mr. West now. The man he was supposed to testify against committed suicide last week."
Something cold ran down Keegan's spine. "No way," he protested.
The sheriff smiled without humor this time. "Zach agrees with you. That death is under investigation, as well."
"If this is supposed to make us feel better, it isn't working," Gillian told him. "You're saying everyone involved in this situation is dead?"
"Does this mean you found the missing body?" Keegan demanded.
The sheriff held out his hands. "I understand your concerns here, but this is a good thing from the standpoint of Mr. West's safety. It appears someone is tidying up loose ends."
"And you don't think I qualify?" Keegan asked.
"Yes and no. From an organized crime point of view, you no longer matter because there isn't anyone you can hurt, which means no one is left who can point a finger at the people behind the initial event."
"Except the missing policeman," Keegan pointed out.
"It's only a matter of time before we find his body, given the situation. The water has started to recede, so we should have a report on its location by morning. And in the meantime, I've found someone willing to give you a ride over to the boardinghouse, Ms. O'Malley."
Gillian scowled. "Does this mean I don't even get my five minutes?"
The two men shared a look. Amused, the sheriff's lips quirked. "I'm pretty sure my neighbor won't mind waiting for five minutes."
"Thank you so much."
The door opened and the deputy stuck his head inside. "Telephone, sheriff."
"I give up," Gillian said in exasperation. "There's no such thing as privacy around here."
Keegan laughed out loud. It felt good. Better than good. He was almost afraid to get his hopes up too high, but for the first time in a long time, he could see some light at the end of this tunnel he'd felt trapped inside.
"This is a jail, Gillian," he told her.
"Yeah? Whose side are you on?"
She took his hands through the bars. Her unreserved support lifted away the last of his depression.
"Forget the five minutes," she said. "I'll settle for a kiss."
"Well, I won't."
Kissing her through the bars was a challenge, but he managed to make a reasonably thorough job of the process. Of course, he'd probably be left staring at the ceiling all night, wishing for a cold shower, but Gillian was worth it. He had a feeling she was worth just about anything.…
Gillian leaned on her crutches, staring at the deputy. "What do you mean Keegan's gone? Gone where?"
"Dallas police flew him out early this morning."
Terrifying what-if scenarios filled her with fear, but there was no point mentioning them to the hapless deputy. "Did he leave me a message?"
"Uh, not that I know of."
"Nothing at all?" She couldn't believe it. She didn't believe it. "Where's Sheriff Beaufort?"
"Hopefully, getting some sleep. He was up all night."
Defeated, Gillian left. She could wait for the sheriff to arrive, but it would be better to return to the boardinghouse since the owner's car was still parked at the gas station. She hoped she could catch a lift back, because until the rental car company showed up with a replacement this afternoon, she was at the mercy of strangers. Neither of these tiny towns ran to civilized things like taxis.
Morning turned to afternoon. Keegan didn't call. Neither did anyone else. Gillian wondered if the fake Rio had talked with her cousin yet. The real Rio probably thought the family believed his guilt when the truth was, none of them had even known about the situation. Aunt Mary hadn't told her sister anything at all until her husband was arrested and confessed.
The new car arrived midafternoon. Gillian decided her sprain wouldn't interfere with driving. Besides, she couldn't stand sitting still any longer.
"Ms. O'Malley? You have a telephone call."
If it hadn't been for the crutches she would have run to the phone. She fumbled for the receiver with indecent haste.
"Gilly?"
Not Keegan. The voice was unfamiliar, yet it teased a distant memory that finally clicked into place. "Rio? Is that you?"
"Can we meet?"
"Of course! Where and when?"
Gillian heard a gruff voice in the background ordering him to hurry.
"Look. I have to go. Meet me outside the post office in Trueblood. Six o'clock."
"Wait! Rio?"
He'd hung up. Gillian stared at the wall while something cold worked its way down her spine.
"Is everything all right Ms. O'Malley?"
She brought the owner into focus. "I'm not sure. Can you give me simple directions to Trueblood from here?"
* * *
The plane was delayed in Dallas. The officers were treating Keegan as a material witness instead of a suspect, so his personal effects had been returned and they didn't cuff him, but he still felt as if he were under arrest. His escorts had little to say as they stashed him in a secluded office at the airport. He hoped the sheriff had given Gillian his hastily scrawled message since they wouldn't let him use a telephone.
"Uh, fellows, I need to use the rest room. Your bladders might not have limits, but three cups of coffee is definitely mine."
"We'll have to go across the hall," the string bean said. Though Keegan had been given their names, he'd taken to thinking of them as String Bean and No Neck.
"We go in and we come straight back," No Neck admonished.
If Gillian were here she'd probably ask if she was allowed to wash her hands first. Keegan smiled without bothering to explain. Delayed commuters filled the terminal. A disembodied voice suddenly announced the landing of their plane.
No Neck halted so abruptly Keegan walked right into him.
"Holy sh— That's Nathan Orrik!"
String Bean jerked like a puppet. "Where?"
A beefy man in a three-piece suit whirled at the sound of his name. Hatred filled his eyes. His hand snaked to an inside pocket.
"Look out, he's got a gun!"
There was no time to wonder how anyone had smuggled a gun past Security. Keegan was shoved against the wall as the terminal erupted in chaos. He didn't know or care who Nathan Orrik was, nor did he wait to see how it all played out. He joined the frantic throng rushing to escape. For the past several hours he'd had nothing to do but think. One thing was clear. If both cops hadn't died in the flash flood, Gillian was in danger.
Gillian tried calling the sheriff before she left, but he still wasn't in. She wished Keegan were here with her. Rio had sounded…wrong. Yet only Rio had ever had the temerity to call her Gilly.
Why had he picked a closed bank for their meeting? And clear over in Trueblood? If only she'd remembered to pack the battery charger for her cell phone. Unfortunately, her phone had died before the stupid rental car and she knew firsthand that there were no pay phones between here and Trueblood.
Her thoughts strayed back to Keegan. Her father had told her numerous times how he'd fallen for her mother at first glance. Was it possible to inherit a trait like that, along with hair color and a sense of humor? If so, she was very much afraid she had fallen in love with a cowboy.
Gillian pulled into the deserted parking lot and wondered if Rio had chosen this location to be sure she came alone. Reluctantly, she left the safety of the small rental car. Standing in front of the bank on crutches made her feel vulnerable. Rio had always been a quiet, serious boy, but he'd never been weird.
A paneled delivery van pulled to the curb and stopped. Fear gripped her as a man stepped from the driver's side. She recognized him from the night he and his partner had stalked her and Keegan in the rain. He smiled and she prayed he couldn't hear the frantic pounding of her heart.
"Gillian O'Malley? Rio sent me."
Her mouth was a desert of fear. That voice had been in the background when her cousin called. No wonder Rio had sounded strained.
"Get in the van and I'll take you to him."
"I don't think so."
The smile slipped. "It's all right — I'm a police officer."
She shook her head. "I don't care. If you take another step in my direction I'm going to scream so loud they'll hear me in Darwin Crossing."
The smile dissolved. He pulled out a gun.
"Shooting me won't get you any closer to Keegan."
He nodded toward the truck. "How about if I shoot your cousin?"
Her legs threatened to buckle. He'd do it. Maybe he already had. "And draw the entire town? I don't think so," she lied. She shifted her weight, wondering if she could reach his hand with the crutch before he shot her.
"Were you looking for me?"
"Keegan!"
The man swiveled toward the unexpected voice. Gillian brought up the crutch with all the force she could muster. Keegan launched himself forward as the shot exploded. The men went down in a vicious tangle of limbs.
"Police! Hold it!"
* * *
Keegan stroked her hair.
"I thought he'd killed you," Gillian murmured.
"He missed, thanks to you."
"What were you thinking, taking chances like that?"
"I was trying to rescue you. I should have known you'd handle it."
She hugged him tight, and he inhaled the fragrant scent of her.
"Fool. How did you know I was here?"
"I called the boardinghouse. Then I called the sheriff. He got in touch with String Bean and No Neck."
"Who?"
He gestured at the officers leading the prisoner away. "Oh." She giggled. "How did he know about Rio?"
The sheriff stood talking with her cousin, who'd been tied up in the back of the truck.
Keegan shrugged. "A police officer with a badge has access to all sorts of information. I knew if he'd seen you with me that night and escaped the flood, he'd come after you."
"So you had to play hero."
"It's the code of the West."
Love sparkled in her eyes as she gazed up at him. "Are you really a financial advisor in Dallas?"
"When I'm not pretending to be a cowboy."
"Thank God. There isn't much call for a research analyst in Darwin Crossing."
She nestled against his chest. Keegan didn't want to ever let her go. "I know it's too soon, but how do you feel about long engagements?"
She tensed and his gut knotted. He should have waited.
She lifted her head. "Annoyed."
Keegan threw back his head and laughed.
The End