Heart of a Lawman Read online

  She could see the gelding in the corral, his saddle removed. He seemed to be all right.

  “He was bleeding, Dad,” Lainey said.

  “Actually, the bleeding had already stopped by the time we got him corralled,” Will said. “I cleaned him up and medicated the wound. Doesn’t look serious, but you’d probably better keep an eye out for infection.”

  “I need to check on him right now,” Josie said.

  She wanted a closer look at that wound for a different reason, though at least Will hadn’t said anything about a bullet hole. Maybe she’d been wrong and had let her imagination get the best of her.

  As she entered the corral, she crooned, “Hey, big boy, how are you doing?”

  Mack eyed her but didn’t seem particularly concerned with her presence. About to close the gate, Josie realized Bart was directly behind her. The sensation that had overpowered her earlier, that had allowed her to act so crazy, threatened her again.

  Sexual tension—she wondered if a person could develop an off switch.

  Nerves taut, she crossed to the gelding, who snorted as she drew close. “Mack, I’m not going to hurt you,” she murmured. “I just want to take a look.”

  And though he said nothing, she knew Bart was still standing behind her. She sensed him, almost as if his body were pressing against hers. Her own body responded, momentarily distracting her from her purpose.

  Gritting her teeth, she searched desperately for that illusive off switch….

  She didn’t take her eyes from the horse, nor he off her. For a moment, she feared Mack wouldn’t let her get close—he shuffled his feet as if he were thinking about running again—but her continued soft voice and careful movements reassured him. Finally, he settled.

  She could see the wound now—a flesh-tearing gash about two inches long and half an inch wide along his shoulder. It appeared raw but clean.

  “Odd,” Bart said softly, so close that she swore she could feel his breath feather the fine hairs along the side of her face when he spoke. “What could have caused that?”

  “A sharp rock—what else?”

  “Right, what else?” he echoed, though he didn’t sound convinced.

  While Bart had no reason to think the wound could have been caused by anything other than a rock, Josie figured a bullet might have grazed him as she’d feared. Might being the operative word. Not that she was about to voice that opinion. Then she’d have explaining to do. Rather explaining she couldn’t do.

  “Are you ready to head back to Alcina’s?” Bart asked, surprising her.

  “You’re calling it a day?”

  “I’m asking you.”

  Which meant he was testing her mettle.

  Josie wouldn’t mind some down time, but she wasn’t about to admit as much. She didn’t want Bart thinking he’d made a mistake in trying her out…at least not any more of a mistake than she must look to be already.

  “I’ve got a lot of work to do with those horses,” she said. “I probably could get to a couple more before dark.”

  “You’re sure you’re up to it?”

  She had to be. No choice.

  “Am I tired?” she said. “Yes, of course. Hurting? You bet.” She wasn’t about to tell him how much. She would make it through this somehow. “Am I ready to throw in the towel? Not on your life. I need this job, Bart, and I’m tougher than I look. Okay?”

  Bart seemed downright impressed by her speech. “All right, then.” He also looked as if he was pulling back a grin. “But can I make a suggestion?”

  “You’re the boss.”

  “Stick close to the barn, would you?”

  So he wouldn’t have to come after her again?

  Josie sighed and muttered, “Exactly what I was planning on doing.”

  She might be stubborn, but she was no fool.

  To Josie’s relief, Bart left her to her own devices while he showed his new cowboy around.

  Part of her wanted to tell Bart the whole truth. The problem was she didn’t know anything for certain herself. She really didn’t know that she’d been a specific target, even if someone had been shooting at her. Could have been some crazy kid playing around with a gun that he had no business handling. Even as she thought it, she admitted that was a stretch. But if she had been a genuine target, she didn’t know why.

  Add that to the list of things she didn’t know.

  As Josie set about tacking up another horse and testing him out in the corral, she went over in her head what she did know for sure.

  She had a ranch background, no getting around that. The truck she’d wrecked had been stolen—that she’d been able to gather. While she’d been half-unconscious for some undetermined amount of time, the authorities had been running a check on her fingerprints because of the vehicle. And, after escaping from the hospital, she’d hitched a ride north to Silver Springs with a stranger who’d hardly even spoken to her.

  Could someone have followed her? Who? Some partner in crime?

  Josie’s imagination took flight and she tried picturing herself as the female half of a western Bonnie and Clyde team. Maybe she and her lover had robbed a bank and she double-crossed the guy, so now he had it in for her because she’d kept all the money for herself.

  Broke as she was, she couldn’t even continue thinking of that scenario without snorting.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Josie started. She’d been so wrapped up in her crazy thoughts that she hadn’t even realized that Lainey was hanging around to watch her work with the horses.

  “Just thinking about me finding myself on foot my first day as Curly-Q’s wrangler.”

  Not exactly a lie.

  “I never met a woman wrangler before,” Lainey said from her perch at the top of the pipe fence.

  “Women can do most jobs men can do,” Josie assured her, “no matter what they try to tell you. We females might be lacking in the strength department, but God gave us extra smarts to make up for it. Not that I’d take bragging rights about that around the men.”

  Grinning, Lainey announced, “I am smarter than my dorky brother. And he’s sixteen.”

  Taking the horse in a figure eight near the fence, Josie noticed the expensive-looking camera that hung from a strap around the girl’s neck.

  “Fancy piece of equipment you have there.”

  “Photography’s my hobby,” Lainey said, touching it lovingly. “This camera belonged to my mom. After she died, Dad said she’d want me to have it.”

  “I’m sure she would,” Josie agreed, knowing the girl would rather have her mother instead.

  She must have her mother’s looks, Josie figured, seeing no sign of Bart in that red hair, freckled nose or green eyes. Bart’s late wife must have been stunning.

  “Mom taught me how to use this camera. You know—load the film, take the light reading and everything. It’s real old, none of that automatic stuff,” Lainey said airily. “But it works great. Mom and I used to go on photo shoots, then later, after the film was developed, we’d pick out the best shots and put them in albums together.”

  A lump caught at the back of Josie’s throat as she recognized the loneliness and loss in the girl’s voice. Somehow she knew it was a loss they shared.

  “That’s really nice, Lainey. You’ll have some wonderful memories every time you open one of those albums.”

  Josie would settle for memories. Any memories.

  The girl’s green eyes suddenly filled with tears. Lowering them—undoubtedly so Josie couldn’t see—she muttered, “I think I hear Felice calling me. She probably wants me to help with supper. I’d better go.”

  Though Josie hadn’t heard anyone call, she let Lainey have her lie. “I’ll probably see you around tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, maybe after school.”

  The girl’s melancholy getting to her, Josie threw herself totally into her work, taking the horse into the pasture and stretching him out, then starting fresh in the corral with a mare.

  And
all the while, she ignored the pain, telling herself that if she didn’t work it out, by morning she would be so stiff that she wouldn’t be able to move.

  She was just about done for the day when Bart and Will Spencer appeared and watched from the fence. A few minutes later, the pickup carrying Moon-Eye and the cowboy she guessed to be Frank zoomed into view. Bart went off to talk to his men, leaving Will behind.

  Josie dismounted and brought the mare back into the corral, where she loosened the cinch on the saddle. Removing the tack and setting it aside, she was aware of Will watching her progress.

  “So you call yourself Josie now,” he suddenly said, as if he knew she’d once called herself by another name.

  Josie pretended indifference, but her insides twisted into a knot. Did Will know her, then? Dear Lord, was she about to learn her true identity?

  “What else should I call myself?” she asked breathlessly.

  “One name is as good as any, I guess.”

  He wasn’t going to tell her, then? She wanted to scream at him, demand answers.

  He asked, “But why the treatment?”

  “What treatment?”

  “You pretending you don’t know me.”

  Facing him then, she could hardly breathe. He did know her. But she made it into a game, hoping he would be the one to slip up.

  “Should I know you?” she asked, playing with the words.

  “It wasn’t all that long ago, and you weren’t all that drunk,” he said, his eyes narrowing again. “You called me Billy Boy, remember? Still could,” he added, altering the timbre of his voice so that the flesh on her arms crawled.

  Not knowing what else to do, Josie bluffed. “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

  The cowboy stared at her then, as if he was reading her. Josie didn’t dare move. Didn’t dare breathe. Not until he made his move.

  “If that’s your story,” he finally said, “then I’ll go along with it.” He started to turn away, stopped, then glanced back over his shoulder. “For now.”

  Josie’s mouth went dry and her heart skipped a beat as he moved off—that was a threat if she ever heard one.

  He’d go along with her story why?

  And for how long?

  And what would make him talk?

  Chapter Seven

  Josie’s hands shook as she removed the halter and set the mare back in the larger pasture. Will Spencer’s claiming to know her but avoiding the details set her so far on edge that she felt ready to tumble over a cliff.

  “Looks like you’ve had it.”

  She whipped around to face Bart, who’d sneaked up on her. “And then some.”

  Her pulse thrummed as he stared at her. His deep blue eyes were the most beautiful thing about his face. And the most dangerous. She felt as if he could look inside of her. Peel her open and read all her secrets. Maybe even the ones she couldn’t remember.

  “I’ll take you into town as soon as you’re done here,” Bart said, breaking the thread that had been holding her mesmerized. “It’s past quitting time.”

  “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

  As he walked off, Josie wondered if she wasn’t giving Bart’s obvious interest in her the wrong kind of edge. He had kissed her, after all. Maybe his mind was on something other than work. On something more personal.

  Or maybe her mind was, a little voice in her head suggested. She’d already decided that he’d just been feeling sorry for her, and that the kiss had been a mistake. Still, that couldn’t make her forget Bart’s lips on hers. It couldn’t make her deny that, for one short moment, they had connected in a way that thrilled her.

  Realizing she wasn’t getting done any faster mooning over the situation, Josie concentrated on getting the tack put away and assessing what she needed to do the next day.

  Ready in mere minutes as she’d promised, she couldn’t help but look for any sign of the new cowboy as she went in search of Bart, who was already waiting for her in the SUV. The barnyard was empty of other people, however. No doubt everyone else was eating supper, including Will, while she herself had no appetite.

  Instead, Josie was eating the tension that Will “Billy Boy” Spencer had created, letting it get to her. Her stomach acids were churning and burning her insides. Head against the rest, eyes closed, she tried a little deep breathing to calm herself as they climbed out of the canyon. She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d always absorbed life’s ills internally.

  Not that wondering about anything did her a bit of good. The memories would come when they chose to—nothing she could do to force them.

  “You awake?” Bart suddenly asked, startling her to attention.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  She looked around. Out of the canyon and on the flats already, they were traversing the dirt washboard road toward town.

  “I’ve never heard you so quiet,” Bart said, chuckling at his own joke.

  “I guess the day plumb wore me out.”

  He sobered. “I believe the seriousness of your intentions to do a good job, Josie, but you don’t have to push yourself further than you can go.”

  “I’ll survive.”

  “Let’s hope so. The Curly-Q hasn’t been the death of anyone yet.”

  Death.

  She could have been dead twice in the last week, Josie thought. First the truck, now the horse. Maybe she ought to stick to walking. She was becoming downright accident prone—or always had been and couldn’t remember.

  She couldn’t remember, but what did Will Spencer know about her?

  If nothing else, he knew who she was, Josie thought. Knew Josie Wales wasn’t her real name. Why hadn’t he been more forthright with her? Why play games?

  Unless she had somehow given him reason…

  For a moment, Josie wondered if her past association with Will had been negative. And if so, whether or not Will had anything to do with those gunshots. He’d had opportunity, that was for certain. He’d shown up at the ranch so conveniently, just as Bart had been driving her back to the barn.

  But Will’s merely knowing her didn’t go hand in hand with his trying to hurt her, she reasoned, especially not when he had acted so friendly.

  So what was she to believe?

  Jarring her out of her thoughts, Bart said, “I figured maybe you could match Will with a couple of mounts tomorrow,” almost as if he knew she was thinking about the cowboy. “I want to get him working with Frank on cutting some of those calves out of the herd as soon as possible.”

  Her stomach kicked up again at the thought of another confrontation with Will.

  “Anything you say, boss.”

  Whether she was hungry or not, she was going to have to eat or stress would burn a hole right through her.

  A thought suddenly struck her—what if Bart knew whatever Will knew about her? Who was to say the cowboy hadn’t shared their past with his boss? How likely was that, though? She’d just had that little dance with Will, and he’d as much as promised to go along with her. Surely he hadn’t already said anything.

  “I figure it’ll take you a few days to check out all the horses in the remuda,” Bart went on.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Then you can help with the herd. I planned on doing that myself, but first I need to see about getting that windmill fixed.”

  “Windmill?”

  “The one that normally pumps the well in the northwest pasture. Hauling water all that way is real time-consuming, but we don’t have much choice at the moment, so Moon-Eye will take care of that.”

  She remembered the confab Bart had with his men after they’d returned in the pickup. “So the windmill is what you were talking to your men about a little while ago?”

  “Right. Frank and Moon-Eye checked out the situation while you were, uh…otherwise occupied.”

  Not wanting her accident to become the subject of their conversation, Josie said, “What happened?”

  “One of the cotter keys worked its way loose and lande
d in the gearbox. Frank couldn’t figure out how the heck it happened. Anyhow, I guess we had some real wind a few days back—that was when I was still in Albuquerque, packing up my kids. Without that cotter key in place, the fan turned so fast that it did a lot of damage, ripped everything apart—head, pitman arms, gears, helmet.”

  “Sounds expensive.”

  “A major expense. A couple of thousand we really can’t afford right now, but we need that well.”

  When it rained, it poured, Josie guessed. Things going wrong all over the place.

  The ensuing silence wasn’t particularly comfortable, and Josie caught Bart sneaking an intense look at her. She flushed through and through and focused her attention out the side window to cover. Not that she was fooling anyone, leastwise herself. That sexual tension was taking hold of her again, despite her new aches and pains and bruises. Before long, she began wondering what she was getting herself into. And what she might be letting everyone else in for, as well.

  She was getting the distinct feeling that she was bad luck and spreading it around. Maybe detouring in Silver Springs had been a mistake. Things were getting too complicated.

  They were in sight of Silver Springs when Bart said, “About tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at eight or so. I have to run my kids over to the county road where the school bus will pick them up, anyway, so it’s only another few minutes into town. That’ll work for now.”

  “Except that you don’t get to eat supper with your family if you drive me home,” Josie muttered.

  “Felice will keep my food hot. And eventually we’ll figure out something.”

  Eventually. Would she even be around that long?

  Josie had thought she’d stay in Silver Springs long enough to save some money. But the way things were getting so complicated, she wasn’t sure she’d be there in the morning when Bart came for her.

  HEADING FOR HOME, Bart thought about the woman he had held in his arms for too brief a time.

  His feelings about her a bundle of contradictions, he nevertheless admitted Josie was the most intriguing woman he’d met since Sara. While his wife had been open and honest, Josie remained elusive, secretive. In some ways, Sara had reminded him of a delicate flower, though once her mind was set on something, she carried through. Beneath her seeming fragility, Josie was really tough, both physically and mentally. He wondered if that was by choice or just what she’d learned to do to survive.