The Cattleman. Angi Morgan
“She doesn’t hate you, sweetheart. She’s come to ask a favor.” His mother moved and gently shut the door as she left.
“The last favor she asked for involved me walking down a long pier and jumping head first into a dry lake.”
“I heard that.”
* * *
BETH CONRAD HEARD IT, TOO. She silently slipped back to the ancient fireplace in the living room as Juliet’s footsteps started down the hallway. Yes, she’d been listening to a private conversation, but she didn’t actually have a good track record with Nick Burke. It grated her last nerve to ask him for anything. It didn’t matter that technically she wasn’t the person who was asking.
“Need some more coffee?” Juliet asked, wiping her palms across the embroidered apron. The smile on her face hid any of the anxiety that had been in her voice a few moments ago.
“No, thanks. I’m fine. Or at least I am at the moment. I’m not certain how crow tastes and might choke a little once Nick is out here.”
Juliet laughed.
“I don’t think this is a good idea, Juliet. Your son and I haven’t been the best of friends since I was transferred here. The little I’ve gotten to know about him suggests he won’t capitulate.”
“Nonsense, you don’t know each other and have only met under the most stressful situations.” She held up a hand and paused.
Beth had only met Juliet and Alan Burke a couple of weeks ago. After the disastrous operation in the mountains, Nick had driven Beth to the Alpine emergency room. Then he’d stuck around to give her a lift back to the bed-and-breakfast where she’d been staying. His parents had misunderstood his cryptic message and rushed to the hospital, thinking their son had been shot again. After a sigh of relief, they’d waited with their son and had insisted on taking her to dinner. Nick had fumed and protested the entire way to the café.
“Okay, I hear the shower running so we can really talk now,” Juliet said. “This is beneficial for you both, Beth. We’ve gone all through this.”
“Yes, ma’am. But just for the record, I protested then and I’m protesting now. Kate McCrea should never have twisted her husband’s arm to request that I reside at the ranch. He’s a Texas Ranger and technically my boss. I don’t know why she asked that I be kept on the task force, I should add.” If he hadn’t, she’d be out of the DEA and searching for a new job.
Instead she’d act like a sitting duck. A dangling carrot they hoped to lure the perpetrator into making a move against her with. Tasked with the covert job of finding ruthless informants passing information to gunrunners and drug smugglers. Honestly, acting as bait was the only skill she felt competent in providing McCrea’s task force.
And until someone nibbled the bait, they were conducting interviews and trying to covertly connect the dots.
“No one did any arm twisting. After you saved my son’s life, on top of everything that’s been happening in these mountains, no one had to tell me you were an agent. Kate just confirmed what branch of the government you worked for. She’s almost a member of our family. And I only assumed there was a task force involved. No one told me anything.” Juliet smiled and raised her eyebrows as if asking a question.
“I’m not at liberty to discuss the investigation. I won’t ever be, even if I stay here. And your family may be in danger.”
“We already are, dear. This is a risk we’re willing to take by staying and not selling to the corporations trying to buy us out. We just need to convince Nick that you should be here.” Juliet rose, lining up the coffee pot with the sugar and creamer. “I need to get those biscuits in the oven.”
“I’m completely inadequate, especially helping in the kitchen, but I’ll try.”
“You’re not inadequate, just out of your element. Now, you wait right there for my pig-headed son,” she said.
There was no way to keep from liking Nick’s parents. Especially Juliet. Her husband had been very ill for quite some time, but the woman never had a bad word or complaint. Nick was her only child and suffered from PTSD after being shot last year. His state of mind was evident to everyone who knew him—and even those who didn’t know him well.
One night together and she’d witnessed the tension, his avoiding sleep as long as possible, the slight shaking in his hands when others spoke of the cartel.
Juliet was at the swinging door to the kitchen. “I’m very concerned because my son was shot, nearly died and then almost killed a second time. I can’t bear to think about what would have happened if you hadn’t been there. We have plenty of space in this house. It makes a lot of sense for you to stay close.”
Beth took a step toward the kitchen to follow.
“No, no. You stay there and enjoy your coffee. It’ll be so nice having another woman around here. And you know, there really is a lot Nick can teach you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she mumbled after her hostess went through the door.
Nick Burke had been a thorn in her side since she’d arrived in Marfa, Texas. Each way she turned in this investigation, there he stood. He was thrown in her path or she was thrown in his. Even the horrid horses she’d been on had worked against her efforts to stay away from him.
Now her supervisors had arranged for her to bunk at Burke’s ranch and practically be bait wiggling on a hook. With one phone call, Ranger McCrea had assured the very people who had sent her here to fail that she had no problems. He’d told her boss that she was vital to the task force and that the firing of her weapon and subsequent death of an attempted murderer fell under his jurisdiction. The matter had been investigated and was closed.
Then he’d turned to her and said she needed to learn more about the area and enhance her riding skills.
What riding skills? She was a city girl, used to mass transit and high-rises on every corner. She’d refused to resign after her mistakes in Chicago. So as punishment, they’d sent her on an assignment she couldn’t possibly complete. The wide open spaces made her feel small and inferior. Not to mention the wild animals...or the tame ones.
Nothing could be worse than banishment to West Texas for letting her guard down.
Well, it wouldn’t happen again. There would be no hesitation. None. Ever.
She sipped her coffee, and wandered around the immaculate room. She lifted a picture of a young Nick and Kate McCrea back in high school. Was that a twinge of jealousy eking its way into her emotions? No. She wouldn’t fall for the hurt, silent cowboy no matter how compelling his story.
But it didn’t matter. She set his picture back in its spot on the writing desk. Every time he opened his mouth it was easy to push him further into a “don’t touch” category. Almost as far as she seemed to have landed on his “not worth the bother” list.
The smell of baking biscuits soon filled the air. She should offer to help in the kitchen again, but she truly was hopeless there. Her mother had tried to teach her often enough, but nothing had stuck. When setting the table she could never remember which side of the plate the knife or fork should be set. Of course, that wasn’t the reason she was here. The real reason was about six-three and didn’t want her near him...or his mother.
“Mornin’.” Nick’s greeting was anything but pleasant in tone. It was something close to—but not quite—reluctant tolerance. “How’s your arm?”
Beth gulped the last swallow of coffee and continued to stare out the window toward the mountains that looked close enough to touch. So did he—at least his reflection.
The T-shirt he wore was tight over a sculpted chest any woman would envy to be near. He pushed his arms through the sleeves of a second shirt that hid the uneven but nice work tan. His dark blue jeans were loose around his lean thighs. He needed new jeans to show off his perfection.