Wyoming Bold

CHAPTER SIX

“YOU’RE GOING TO TEXAS!” Mallory exclaimed when he got home.

Tank nodded. “I need to talk to the sheriff down there and compare notes. Maybe we both saw something that we don’t remember and discussing it will pop it out.”

“It’s dangerous,” Cane said quietly. “For you to go alone.”

“I’m not taking Rourke with me,” he told his brothers. “In case you wondered. He’s needed here, to keep an eye on you and the Bakers.”

“But, Tank...” Mallory began to protest.

“Not to worry,” Rourke interrupted as he came into the room. “Sorry, didn’t mean to intrude, but I’ve got it covered. He won’t be going alone.”

“You’re not coming with me,” Tank said shortly.

“No. But I have someone who’ll be at the airport when you get there.”

“Who?” Tank asked.

“Nobody you know. Nobody you’ll recognize. And nobody will recognize him, either. But he’ll be watching. If you get into any trouble at all, you’ll be safe.”

“Thanks, Rourke,” Mallory said. “I was concerned.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Cane replied.

“I’m a grown man,” Tank protested.

“Yes, but you’re our brother, too,” Mallory said, “and we worry.”

He grinned at them. “Nice of you.”

“We’d miss the piano playing,” Cane said with a twinkle in his eyes. “Even if it is pretty sad compared to Mallory’s.”

Mallory grinned. “Truer words were never spoken.”

Tank threw a napkin at him.

HE BOOKED A flight online and then he drove over to Merissa’s house to see her.

“I’m going to Texas,” he said while they drank coffee in her kitchen at the little white table. Clara, discreetly, left them alone.

“To see Sheriff Carson.” She nodded.

He laughed wryly. “Nothing gets by you.”

“Not much, anyway.” She sipped coffee.

“Do you see anything?” he asked.

She searched his eyes. The look was long and intent and she blushed and laughed. “No. I mean, I don’t see anything bad.”

He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “You know,” he said, “I could really get addicted to that pink blush. It makes me feel dangerous.”

She laughed. “You’re not dangerous. Well, maybe a little.”

He smoothed his thumb over her soft palm. His expression hardened somewhat. “You already know about the way I was shot.”

“Yes.”

He turned her hand over and looked at it instead of her. “There are scars. Some of them are pretty bad. I never wear cutoffs, even in summer. Or go bare-chested.”

“You think the scars would matter to me?” she asked softly. She smiled. “Silly man.”

His eyes jumped up to hers. “Are you sure? Or are you just guessing?”

She started to speak when Clara came to the door carrying her purse. “I have to run to the store. I’m out of walnuts!”

Tank stared at her.

She grimaced. “Well, it’s winter and we feed birds. We feed lots of birds,” she explained. “There’s this gorgeous woodpecker—”

“Yes, he drills on the wall outside every morning until we put walnut halves on the fence.”

Tank blinked. “Walnuts?”

Clara laughed. “We buy walnuts in bulk. The woodpecker loves them. There are two pairs of them. And of course we have the little birds that stay year-round.” She sighed. “But I’m out of walnuts and he’s outside my bedroom window right now. Can’t you hear that?”

They listened. There was a loud drumming sound, like wood being hit with a nail over and over again.

“It’s him,” Clara explained. “He won’t stop until he gets fed, and I’ve nothing to feed him. So I have to run to the market.”

“Be careful,” Merissa said.

“I’m always careful. I won’t be ten minutes.” She waved and ran out the door.

“Don’t run, there’s ice!” Merissa called after her.

“Okay!” Clara called back. There was the sound of a car door opening and closing, and then an engine that eventually fired up.

Merissa winced as the car made it out of the yard. “I had a mechanic check it out for me,” she said heavily. “It starts only when it wants to.”

“I’ll have my mechanic come over and see about it.”

“Oh, no, please. You’ve done so much for us already...!”

He smoothed over her hand. “I have to take care of my best girl,” he said softly. He tugged on her hand. “Come here,” he said softly.

That deep note in his voice melted her. She got up from her chair and let him pull her gently down onto his lap.

“You need to see what you’re getting into,” he said quietly. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it away from his muscular, hair-covered chest.

She was so fascinated with this view of him that she didn’t notice the scars.

That rapt stare made him laugh. He’d been uneasy about showing her what the bullets had done, but she didn’t seem to find him unpleasant. In fact, her stare was flattering.

He drew her hand to the muscles under the thick, soft hair. “Here.” He drew her fingers over the thick scars where the bullets had gone in. Two had hit him in the lung and collapsed it. Another had passed under his rib cage. Two had hit his legs, in the thighs, and it had taken several surgeries to remove splintered bone and repair muscle.

“I’ve never touched a man like this,” she faltered.

He smiled. “I like that.”

“You do? Really?” she asked softly. “I was afraid... Well, you know, some modern men think it’s really stupid that women don’t pass themselves around like drinks at a bar.”

“I’m not one of them. I’m pretty old-fashioned myself.”

She traced around one of the scars and winced. “This must have been horribly painful, Dalton,” she said.

He liked the way his given name sounded on her lips. She was soft and warm and sweet. He looked at her mouth and ached to catch it under his. The way she was touching him was very arousing.

He bent and took her lips softly under his. “You taste like black coffee,” he whispered, chuckling.

She smiled under his lips. “So do you.”

He drew her head down against his shoulder and looked long and deep into her eyes until she flushed at the intensity. He didn’t smile. Neither did she.

He looked at her mouth, pretty and slightly red from the pressure of his lips. “It’s been a long time since I felt so much hunger for a woman’s touch,” he whispered. “A very long time.”

His mouth pressed down on hers, gently parting her lips, moving under them with a slow, steady pressure that grew harder and hungrier by the second.

He lifted her closer, feeling her soft hand tangling in the thick hair on his chest while the kiss became so passionate that she moaned.

His hand found the hem of her T-shirt and moved under it, up to the frilly little bra that covered her. He unfastened it and found the firm, hard-tipped flesh with his fingers.

She gasped, but she didn’t protest.

“Trust me,” he whispered at her mouth. “But not...too far.”

He pulled up the hem and before she realized what he meant to do, his mouth opened on her breast, taking all of it inside, working the nipple hard with his tongue while he suckled her.

She cried out, a sound that penetrated his spinning brain as if from a distance. She tasted like the sweetest sugar on earth. His free hand went down her back, into the waistband of her jeans and around, over the soft flesh on her hip, around to the front, to her belly.

“Dal...ton?” she whimpered.

“Dear God,” he groaned.

He stood up, carrying her down the hall to her bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind him.

“Mama will be home...soon,” she choked out in a voice that she almost didn’t recognize.

“I’ll hear her,” he lied.

He slid her down on the bed and stripped her to the waist, throwing off his own shirt at the same time.

He smoothed his body down over hers, shifting her legs so that he could sink down between them, while his hair-roughened chest buried her soft breasts under it.

His hand went under her hips, lifting her into the sudden hard thrust of his body. “Beautiful,” he whispered, looking at her breasts as he moved roughly against her hips. “So beautiful!”

He was causing sensations within her that she’d never known. The pleasure was shocking. It lifted her body in an arch as she struggled to get even closer. She hadn’t the will to protest what he was doing to her. She loved the weight of him, the feel of him so intimately close.

“It feels...so sweet,” she gasped as he fed on her breasts.

“Imagine how it would feel inside you,” he whispered at her mouth. “Hard, and deep...”

She cried out. He smothered the sound under his devouring lips while his hips moved insistently on hers. She could feel him growing even more potent by the second.

“Merissa,” he groaned. “It’s been so long...!”

He unzipped her jeans. He was pulling them down when the sound of a car pulling up out front with its roaring engine shocked them into stillness.

“No,” he groaned again, shivering.

She held him tightly, kissing his neck. “It’s all right,” she whispered. “It’s all right.”

“That’s what...you think.”

He managed to roll off the bed and went into her bathroom.

She got dressed quickly, opened the door and went into the kitchen. She peered into the window, seeing her disheveled reflection. Well, it might look as if they’d been kissing, but her mother wouldn’t suspect anything more. She hoped. She dabbed water on her face and wiped it with a paper towel.

The front door opened.

“I’m back,” Clara called.

“I’m in here,” Merissa called. She smiled at her mother. “Dalton’s in the bathroom,” she whispered.

“Ah.” Clara put the walnuts on the counter. “The car’s making funny noises,” she said sadly. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I do,” Dalton said from the doorway. He didn’t look disheveled at all. His hair was combed and he was smiling. “I’m sending one of my mechanics over tomorrow to have a look at it. But this time, he’ll come with Darby Hanes. So if anybody else shows up and claims to be sent by us, you call the ranch house first. Okay?”

“Okay. Dalton, you really shouldn’t,” Clara began worriedly. “I mean, you’ve done so much already...”

“We take care of family,” he told her. And he looked at Merissa in a way that made her cheeks go red.

Clara started to speak but didn’t.

Dalton just chuckled. “I’m going to be a pest,” he told her. “Sorry. But your daughter is like flowers to a bee. Can’t stay away,” he said, and his voice dropped an octave as he looked at her.

“I don’t mind,” Merissa said, her own voice full of soft meaning.

Dalton winked at her. He checked his watch. “I have to go,” he said. “I need to pack to get ready for the Texas trip.”

“You’re going to Texas?” Clara asked.

“Yes. I’m going to talk to Sheriff Carson and a couple of feds about my run-in with the drug cartel.”

“Not alone?” Clara continued, concerned.

Tank chuckled again. “Rourke’s got a buddy who’s going to cover me like tar paper,” he told her. “I’ll be fine.”

“In that case, I won’t worry.” She smiled. “Have a safe trip.” She lifted her head and groaned. “He’s still at it!”

They heard the tapping on the wood outside Clara’s bedroom window.

“The woodpecker.” Clara laughed. “I’d better go feed him before he breaks into the house.”

She took a package of walnut halves, opened it and walked toward the back of the house.

When they heard the back door slam, Tank pulled Merissa close and kissed her with a new tenderness. He drew back, smoothing his big hand over her blond hair.

“We’re going to be very good together,” he whispered.

She flushed. “Listen, I’m very... I mean I...I can’t...”

He hugged her tight. “I won’t ask you to. That’s a promise. I have something more permanent in mind.”

“Permanent?” she asked at his chest.

He smiled and drew back. “We’ll talk about it when I get back from Texas. Okay?”

She brightened. “Okay.”

He laughed and shook his head. “I wish I could take you with me. Listen, you watch where you go. Be aware of your surroundings. Rourke will be watching, but he can’t be everywhere.” His eyes pinned her. “I want you safe.”

“I will be,” she promised him. “You be careful, too,” she added. She bit her lower lip. “Airplanes are scary.”

“I’ve been riding around in airplanes half my life.” He laughed. “It’s safer than driving. Really.”

“Okay. Have a good trip.”

“I will.”

He kissed her again, hungrily, let her go and went out without looking back.

Merissa was still staring after him when her mother came back into the kitchen.

She put a comforting arm around her daughter. “He’s the one.”

“Yes,” Merissa said, hugging her back. “He’s the one.”

TANK WAS DISCONCERTED by his powerful reaction to Merissa, and, especially, hers to him. She really was hungry for him; that was evident. He should probably take a step back before rushing in headfirst, but caution was the last thing on his mind.

Then he remembered Vanessa. She’d come to work for the brothers, babied them, petted them. Tank had gone overboard for her. And then they found out that she was a thief, a woman with no particularly fine feelings at all. He’d trusted her and he’d been, like his brothers, betrayed by her.

But Merissa was different. People locally knew her. She might have a strange reputation, people might even think she had supernatural leanings, but she was respected. She wasn’t the sort of person who’d betray him. Of course she wasn’t.

He had to stop thinking that way. He’d learned the hard way that women couldn’t be trusted. Before Vanessa, there had been another heartbreak. He was a sucker for a sweet smile; that was the problem. But this time was different. Very different.

“You look pensive,” Mallory said when he came in the door.

Tank made a face. “I’m getting in over my head,” he said.

Mallory smiled. “Happens to all of us. And then you get a baby and you go all crazy and buy closets full of baby clothes and furniture and big plastic toys...!”

“Oh, stop it, I’m not even married yet.” Tank chuckled.

“She thinks you’re hot,” Cane remarked as he entered the room. “Mavie says Merissa looks at you like she could eat you with a spoon.”

Tank actually flushed. “She did? She does?”

They laughed.

“It’s nice to see you with somebody we approve of,” Mallory commented.

“People call her a witch,” Tank reminded him.

“She’s uniquely talented,” he replied. “There are some unusual people in the world. We got lucky and found one in our neighbor. Well, two of them, Merissa and her mother,” Mallory added. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “we might have lost Darby if Merissa hadn’t had that premonition.”

Tank nodded. “That was pretty shocking. Until then, I never really believed in any of that psychic stuff.”

“Neither did I, honestly,” Mallory said. “But she knew about your attacker, too. You might be dead as well if she hadn’t interfered.” He shook his head. “She’s quite a woman.”

“Not bad-looking, either,” Cane added, laughing. He held up both hands when Tank glared at him. “Hey, I’m happily married and about to become a father.”

Tank laughed. “Sorry.”

There had been a bit of a rivalry between Cane and Tank over Bolinda, Cane’s wife, before they were married. It had been a rocky relationship, and at one time Tank had even flirted with her. But once he knew how Cane felt, he backed off.

“I like her,” Cane added, smiling gently.

“When you get back, Morie wants to have her over for dinner one night, after Christmas,” Mallory said. “It would be nice for the wives to meet her.”

“I agree,” Tank said. He sighed. “Well, I’d better get packed. I hate leaving. And Merissa was nervous about my flying. I usually enjoy it, but now it makes me concerned.”

“Driving takes longer,” Cane pointed out.

“So it does.”

“He just doesn’t like being out of control,” Cane told Mallory. “He’d fly the plane if they’d let him.”

“I can drive a tank,” Tank protested. “If I can do that, I’d be able to pilot a plane. I’d just need a few lessons.” He grinned.

They shook their heads and walked off.

HE WONDERED WHO Rourke had watching him at the airport. He waited on the concourse gate to board. The man would probably be on the plane with him. But most of the passengers seemed to be families. There were a couple of businessmen in fancy suits. One of them was carrying a laptop in a case.

He drew Tank’s eyes. That man was tall, streamlined but muscular. He walked with a peculiar gait. Funny, to notice the way a man moved, but Tank had worked with a special forces group in Iraq that was assigned to a mission near his unit’s command post. He’d seen that walk before. It was common among men who hunted men. It was hard to put into words, but he recognized it when he saw it.

The man carried himself perfectly erect, no slumping there. He had jet-black hair that he wore in a ponytail down his back. It was as black as a raven’s wing. He wasn’t bad-looking. Women seemed to find him interesting. He smiled at one, a sophisticated woman by the look of her, and she seemed absolutely mesmerized by him.

He noticed Tank’s covert scrutiny and glanced at him from black eyes under heavy dark eyebrows. He had a lean face, deep-set eyes and a chiseled mouth. He looked dangerous. Odd, for a businessman.

Tank lifted his eyebrows, refusing to be intimidated. The man pursed his lips and actually grinned before he turned his attention back to the woman who was approaching him with a big smile.

Even in his best bachelor days, Tank had never been able to attract women like that. Well, some men just had the gift.

He thought about Merissa and smiled to himself. He wasn’t going to be interested in attracting women again, he decided. He had his own. His own. That made him feel warm inside, safe, protected. It had happened so suddenly that he hadn’t had time to think about the impact it was going to make on his life.

Merissa was innocent, a person of faith with high ideals. She wasn’t a woman for casual relationships. But he liked that. He wasn’t a rounder. He was feeling his age, although he was only thirty-two. He was growing used to the idea of having Merissa around. Maybe a child. A little boy who’d look like him, or a little girl who’d look like her. He recalled the very hot and heavy intimacy they’d shared on her bed, and how he’d almost died from the agony of having to walk away from her. Yes, they were going to be explosive together in bed. And he liked her. That was an important part of marriage.

Marriage! There. He’d actually said the word in his mind, the word he’d avoided for years. But it didn’t seem to hold the quiet terror it once had. Settling down seemed as natural as kissing Merissa’s soft mouth. He actually looked forward to it.

He wished he could have taken her to Texas with him. But she had her work, and she’d told him she was behind. There would be plenty of time for trips later on.

They were boarding business class now. He went onto the gangway, smiling at the flight attendant who was waiting down the ramp at the door of the plane. She checked his ticket and indicated his seat assignment.

He hadn’t planned to go business class, but his brothers had insisted. He didn’t fly anywhere enough to make it exorbitant this once. In the spring he’d be on planes a lot, going to seminars, visiting other ranches, visiting congressmen to lobby for better laws for the cattle industry. He’d be working on brochures for their own spring sales and planning the big twice-a-year cattle sale on the ranch. He was going to be busy. So this trip would be something like a working vacation for him. He’d talk to the sheriff, but he also had plans to visit a ranch in Jacobsville to check out some Santa Gertrudis cattle to add to the brothers’ breeding stock. They had a very small seed herd of the native Texas strain. He wanted to pursue it. A good bull wouldn’t be a bad idea at all. New blood every two years kept their breeding herds viable.

As he took his seat, he noted that the ponytailed businessman took a seat across from him. The flight attendant made a beeline for him and offered him anything he wanted. She was also grinning from ear to ear, like the woman who’d flirted with him in the airport.

Tank just shook his head. The man had a real gift.

IT WASN’T A long flight. At least, it didn’t seem long to Dalton. He read a couple of magazine articles, dozed for an hour or so and listened to the flight attendant telling the businessman across from Dalton about her whole life. He smiled to himself. The guy really had something. The flight attendant was very pretty.

When they landed, Dalton hefted his carry-on from the overhead compartment and got in line to baby-step out the door. No matter how organized the crew was, it was still a free-for-all trying to get off a plane.

As he approached the exit, he noted the flight attendant slipping a piece of paper to the businessman. He chuckled to himself.

A DRIVER WAS waiting for him at the entrance to the concourse, holding up a sign with “Dalton Kirk” on it.

He raised an eyebrow. His brothers, no doubt. He wondered why they thought he needed a limo to get to his hotel. San Antonio wasn’t that large a city, but apparently it was large enough to house a limousine service or two.

But as he started toward the man holding up the sign, the businessman suddenly bumped against him.

“Sorry,” he said loudly. But under his breath, he said, “Don’t go near the guy with the sign, it’s a trap.”

“My fault,” Tank replied.

He kept walking, not even looking toward the man with the sign. Once they were outside the airport, the businessman drew him to one side.

“Rourke sent me,” he told Tank. His face was very somber. “He didn’t say anything about a driver waiting for you here.”

“I thought my brothers did it for a surprise,” Tank replied, looking around.

“If they’d done that, I’d know about it,” the other man replied. “I left my car in overnight parking. I’ll drive you down to Jacobsville. Boss is expecting you. You’re going to stay with him.”

“Boss?”

“Cy Parks,” the man replied. “He owns one of the biggest...”

“...Santa Gertrudis cattle ranches in south Texas,” Tank finished for him. “In fact, he was on my list of people to see. I want to talk to him about a new bull.” He hesitated. “But I promised to check in with the local FBI office...”

“Later,” the man replied, looking around them with narrowed eyes. “If they sent someone to the plane, they’ll be watching. Let’s go.”

For the first time, Tank noticed a bulge under the man’s jacket.

“You packing?” he asked as they moved quickly toward the parking lots.

“Yes.” He didn’t say anything else.

JACOBSVILLE WAS JUST a few minutes drive down the road, through some beautiful country. “It must be really pretty here in the spring,” Tank remarked as he looked across the flat horizon with small groves of trees and the “grasshoppers,” or oil pumpers, dotting the landscape.

“One landscape’s pretty much like another,” his companion replied. He glanced at Tank. “You should have questioned who I was, you know,” he said. “If that rogue agent is on the job, he’ll know Rourke is working for you and that he said he’d have somebody at the airport.”

Tank was very still. His eyes narrowed as he looked hard at the man driving the car.

There was a patient sigh. “I am the real deal,” he replied. “I’m just saying that you shouldn’t have assumed I was.”

Tank chuckled. “Okay. Point taken.”

He turned off the main road down a long ranch road between two white-fenced pastures with two levels of electrified wire in between. There were sleek, red-coated cattle eating at several points where hay had been provided.

“Nice cattle,” Tank remarked.

“Boss only stocks the best” was the reply. “We had to put out surveillance cameras here as well because somebody walked off with one of his prize bulls in the middle of the night.”

“Did they catch the perp?”

The tall man pursed his lips and glanced at Tank. “I caught him.”

“With the bull?”

“Fortunately. Rustling still carries a heavy penalty here in Texas, and we had proof. He’ll be serving time for the indefinite future.”

“You’re a tracker,” Tank murmured with narrowed eyes, and nodded when the other man glanced at him with surprise briefly visible. “I served in Iraq,” he explained. “There was a spec ops team assigned to my unit. Funny, the things you remember in a combat zone, but I remember how one of those guys walked. It’s a gait you don’t see in many people.”

“Cash Grier, the local police chief, has it, as well,” the man agreed.

“Grier.” He frowned. “Wasn’t he a government assassin?”

“Yes, he was,” the man replied. His black eyes were full of secrets as they met Tank’s.

Tank cocked his head. “Am I seeing a similarity about which I shouldn’t speak?” he asked.

“Absolutely.”

He pulled up at the steps of the ranch house. It was sprawling and had paved flagstones leading to the front porch. There were mesquite trees around the compound, a huge barn out back, fenced pasture and a garage. There were stables out near the barn.

The tall man got out of the car. Tank followed him to the front porch, where a man with silvering black hair and green eyes was waiting.

“Cy Parks,” he introduced himself, holding out a hand.

“Tank Kirk.” They shook hands.

“Tank?” Parks asked, amused.

Tank shrugged. “I killed one in Iraq. The name stuck.”

“Come on in. Lisa made a cake and coffee. We can talk before the kids get back from a friend’s Christmas party,” he added with muffled laughter. “Once they’re home, it gets harder to have a conversation.”

“I’ve got a new nephew back home.” Tank laughed. “We’re up to the eaves in big plastic baby toys.”

“We’ve moved on to the next level of those,” Parks said, indicating scattered games and spinning toys and little pedal cars. “Good thing it’s a big house.”

“You’re telling me!” Lisa Parks laughed. She came out to greet them. She had green eyes, like her husband, but blond hair and she wore glasses. She was a pretty woman, still slender after two children. “Come in and have coffee and cake.” She glanced at the tall man. “I know. You hate cake, you don’t drink coffee...you’d rather be dragged behind a mule than sit around talking to people all day.”

The man gave her an enigmatic look.

“How about checking out that truck we noticed earlier?” Parks asked the man. “Take one of the boys with you. Just in case.”

The man glowered at him. “I invented stealth.”

“I know that. Humor me.”

The other man sighed. “You’re the boss.”

“Oh, and Grier called,” Parks added darkly. “It seems you’ve upset his secretary. Again.”

“Not my fault,” the man said with the first strong emotion he’d shown since Tank had met him. His eyes flashed. “She starts it and then runs to her boss to tattle when she can’t take the heat.”

“This is not my problem,” Parks replied. “Take it up with Grier.”

“Tell him—” he indicated Tank “—not to be so trusting. He never even asked me for ID.”

“What good would that do?” Parks muttered. “You never carry any. Which reminds me, I also had a call from a sheriff’s deputy who stopped you for speeding yesterday...”

“Tell you about it later,” the tall man said. “I’ll check on the truck.” He held up a hand when Parks started to speak. “I’ll take one of the boys with me,” he said with irritation.

He walked out of the room.

“Sorry about that,” Parks said when he’d gone. He shook his head. “He’s head of the class when it comes to risky operations, but he’s a pain every other way.”

“Who is he?” Tank asked.

“Carson.”

“Is he related to your sheriff, Hayes Carson?” Tank pressed.

“Well, see, we don’t know if Carson is his first name or his last name,” Parks replied. “In fact, if you hack into government mainframes, you discover that he doesn’t even exist.”

Tank blinked.

“It’s a long story. Right now, let’s just eat cake. My wife—” he smiled at her “—makes the best pound cake in south Texas.”

“Flatterer,” she teased as she put the cake on the table and passed out plates and forks and a knife. “Well, don’t stand on ceremony, dig in. I’ll just get the coffee!”