Colby Law. Debra Webb
to ensure otherwise.
Gator and Frisco stared up at her from their empty bowls. Abigail stared, too, but she hadn’t touched her biscuit. Not that Sadie could blame her. Maybe her ranch hands had fled for parts unknown to escape her cooking. Sadie didn’t like to waste anything, unlike Gus, so the dogs were stuck with her cooking until she figured out how to prepare smaller portions.
Before she could shovel in the final bite of breakfast, all three dogs suddenly stilled, ears perked, then the whole pack made a dash for the front door. Sadie pushed back her chair, her head shaking in disgust. If Gus had decided to show up in person and add his two cents’ worth, he might just leave with more than he bargained for. Or maybe less, depending upon how well her trigger-finger self-control held out.
Shotgun in hand, she marched to the door and peeked out around the curtains her grandmother had made when Sadie was a little girl. The black truck wasn’t one she recognized. Too shiny and new to belong to any of the ranchers around here, at least the ones who actually worked for a living. Ten or so seconds passed and the driver didn’t get out. The way the sun hit the windshield, it was impossible to tell if the driver was male or female, friend or foe.
She opened the door and the dogs raced toward the truck, barking and yapping as if they were a force to be reckoned with. If the driver said a harsh word, the three would be under the porch in a heartbeat. Sadie couldn’t really hold it against them. All three were rescues. After what they’d gone through, they had a right to be people shy.
With the shotgun hanging at her side, she made it as far as the porch steps when the driver’s door opened. Sadie knew the deputies in Coryell County. Her visitor wasn’t any of them. A boot hit the ground, stirring the dust. Something deep inside her braced for a new kind of trouble. As the driver emerged her gaze moved upward, over the gleaming black door and the tinted window to a black Stetson and dark sunglasses. She couldn’t quite make out the details of the man’s face, but some extra sense that had nothing to do with what she could see set her on edge.
Another boot hit the ground and the door closed. Her visual inspection swept over long legs cinched in comfortably worn denim, a lean waist and broad shoulders testing the seams of a shirt that hadn’t come off the rack at any store where she shopped, finally zeroing in on the man’s face just as he removed the dark glasses.
The weapon almost slipped from her grasp. Her heart bucked hard twice then skidded to a near halt.
Lyle McCaleb.
“What the … devil?” whispered past her lips.
Unable to move a muscle, she watched in morbid fascination as he hooked the sunglasses onto his hip pocket and strode toward the house—toward her. Sadie wouldn’t have been able to summon a warning that he was trespassing had her life depended on just a simple two-letter word. The dogs growled while matching his steps, backing up until they were behind their master.
“Sadie.” Lyle glanced at the shotgun as he reached up and removed his hat. “Expecting company?”
As if her heart had suddenly started to pump once more, kicking her brain into gear, fury blasted through her frozen muscles. “What do you want, Lyle McCaleb?” Somehow, despite the outrage roaring like a swollen river inside her, the words were frail and small. It still hurt, damn it, after all these years, to say his name out loud.
“Seeing as you didn’t know I was coming, that couldn’t be for me.” He gave a nod toward her shotgun.
This could not be happening. Seven years he’d been gone. This was … this was … “I have nothing to say to you.” She turned her back to him and walked away. Who did he think he was, showing up here like this after all this time? It was crazy. He was crazy!
“I know I’m the last person on this earth you want to see.”
Her feet stopped when she wanted to keep going. To get inside the house and slam the door and dead-bolt it.
“We need to talk.”
Sadie closed her eyes. Why was she standing here listening to anything he had to say? This was crazy all right. Crazy of her to hesitate like this. Hadn’t she been a fool for him one time too many already?
“It’s about your daddy.”
She whipped around and glared at him but still couldn’t find her voice. For Pete’s sake, she hated the way her eyes drank in every single drop of him. His hair was as dark and silky as before. Those vivid blue eyes still made her want to sink into him, as if wading deep into the ocean with no care for how she’d stay afloat since she’d never learned to swim. He’d changed in other ways though. The cute boyish features had developed into rugged, handsome male assets. And in the face of all she had suffered because of him, he still made her body burn with need. With the primal urge to run into his arms.
Seeing him somehow made her momentarily forget those years of misery she’d endured because of something he had refused to give her seven years ago, and he damned sure wasn’t here to give her his heart today.
She kicked the momentary weakness aside and grabbed back her good sense. “What about him?” she demanded. To her immense relief she sounded more like herself now. In charge, independent. Strong, ready to do battle.
“There’s an investigation under way that I’m hoping is groundless.” He flared those big hands that as a wild teenager she would have given anything to feel roving over her body. “I don’t know if I can help him, but he’s in way over his head. The only chance I’ve got of derailing the situation is with your help. I need your help.”
Narrowing her gaze, she searched his face, tried her level best to look beyond the handsome features and see what he was hiding. He was hiding something. Didn’t matter that it had been seven years. She knew Lyle McCaleb. He’d never been able to lie to her, even when she would have preferred his lies to the truth. He couldn’t love her.
Whatever he wanted, he could forget it. Her heart had mended in time. She wasn’t giving him a second shot at that kind of pain. “I hope you didn’t drive all the way here from wherever you came from just for that.”
“Houston.”
If he’d sucker punched her, her physical reaction couldn’t have been more debilitating. He’d been that close all this time? Gus had told her he’d moved to California, had a wife. Someone mature enough and smart enough to hang on to a man like him. A new rush of anger blasted her, obliterating the ache he’d resurrected with that one word. “Whatever. You wasted your time. Go away.”
Before she could turn her back a second time and escape this surreal encounter, he opened his mouth again. “I was wrong not to call.” He shook his head, stared at the ground a moment. “I was wrong about a lot of things.”
Now she was really mad. “Let me tell you something else you’re wrong about, McCaleb.” She propped the barrel of her shotgun on her shoulder. “You’re wrong if you think I give one damn about what kind of trouble my daddy might be in, because I don’t.” She amped up the go-to-hell glare in her eyes. “And you’re dead wrong if you think for one second I care what you need.”
LYLE WATCHED, HIS HEART somewhere in the vicinity of his throat, as she stamped up the steps and across the porch. She stormed into the house, slamming the door, without even a glance over her shoulder. The dogs stared after her, then turned to him in expectation.
That didn’t exactly go the way he’d planned. Not even close. There was no denying that she did have every reason to hate him. He’d foolishly hoped that wasn’t the case.
He blew out a breath and opted for plan B. Sit on the porch and wait. The dogs did the same, keeping their distance and eyeing him curiously but not bothering to bark. She wouldn’t call the sheriff’s office and have him escorted off her property. Not considering what he’d learned about the war going on between her and the rodeo kings around the county. Sheriff Cox was a good man as far as Lyle knew, but he held an elected position, and in this territory the rodeo kings ruled.
Lyle chuckled.