The Lawman's Noelle. Stella Bagwell
from her. Most likely they were the soft, delicate sort who looked great in lingerie but acted helpless in a feedlot. Sometimes in the quiet darkness of the night, she wished she could be that woman, if only for an hour or two. But that wouldn’t pay the bills or put food on the table. She had to be strong and capable. Always.
“Only a hundred fifty head. Doesn’t take much work to feed that many cattle in the winter. In the summer, when grass is available, I can concentrate on other things. And when it comes time for branding and working, I call on the day hands who work over on the Double X.”
“Hmm. So how long have you had your place?”
Ever since her beloved aunt and uncle had died and her snake-in-the-grass ex had shown his true colors, she thought grimly. To Evan, she said, “Four years—give or take a few months. My aunt Geneva and uncle Rob willed it to me with the stipulation that I use it to produce livestock. And that I never sell the property.”
“You said ‘willed it.’ Did they die?”
She winced as a pain of regret traveled through her. “Together. In a car accident.”
“That’s too bad. They must’ve thought a lot of you.”
“They didn’t have any children, and the three of us were always close. To be honest, I was shocked when I found out they’d left the place to me. They owned a little ranch of their own in the Prescott area, but I had no idea they owned land here in Nevada.”
“So Prescott is where you’re from originally?”
“No. I lived in Phoenix. But I spent every summer and weekend I could with my aunt and uncle. That’s where I learned about horses and cattle. Uncle Rob had done that all his life. He taught me a lot.”
“I see. So you decided to take on the challenge of turning the land here in Nevada into something.”
Actually, she’d first thought of her move from Phoenix to Nevada as an escape, not a challenge. She’d wanted to get away from the crushing pain of her divorce and her clueless parents. But it hadn’t taken long for her to begin to see the property as the future instead of a refuge.
“Something like that,” she murmured.
He didn’t say anything more. After a few moments passed, she looked over to see he’d closed his eyes and was once again resting his head against the back of the seat. No doubt his injury was causing him some misery. Talking probably made it worse.
That was okay with her. She’d already shared more about herself with this man in the past few minutes than she’d ever told anyone. What in the heck was that about? Since her brother, Andy, was killed five years ago, looking at any person wearing a law-enforcement badge had left her cold. So why was she spilling her personal life to this one? It didn’t make sense. Except that he seemed different somehow from the cool, professional policemen who’d tried to explain away an eighteen-year-old’s death.
Doing her best to shove the confusing doubts and questions from her mind, she concentrated on the traffic and hoped Evan didn’t drift off to sleep before giving her directions to his home.
As if reading her thoughts, he suddenly spoke. “Before you get to the Washoe Lake turnoff, there’s a gravel road that goes west. Take it. Three miles in, you’ll see the entrance to the Silver Horn. Cross the cattle guard and stay on that road until you reach the ranch house.”
“Got it.”
Twenty minutes later, Noelle was wondering whether she’d made the correct turn a few miles back or she was driving them deeper into the wilderness. In the past half hour, the only thing she’d seen was a dark dirt road. But she was loath to wake her passenger and question him. He needed the rest. And the absence of his low, rich voice made it easier for her to keep her mind on driving.
Eventually, she spotted a cattle guard up ahead. As she drove closer, she could see it was flanked on either side with rock pillars. A sign that simply read Silver Horn swung from an arch of metal pipe spanning the entrance. She steered the truck over the metal ridges and hoped the ranch house wasn’t far off.
Another fifteen minutes passed before Noelle finally caught a glimpse of lights on a far-off hill. When Evan had told her it was a long drive from town to his place, he hadn’t been exaggerating. But that hardly mattered now. In a few minutes, she’d finally be rid of Detective Calhoun. The idea left her torn between extreme relief and unexplainable sadness.
* * *
Someone was beating the side of his head with a hammer. Evan fought as hard as he could to defend himself until the nightmare eventually had him bolting forward in the seat, causing the seat belt to latch tight against his throat.
“What the hell?” he muttered as he struggled to thrust the nylon strap away.
“You were having a dream. You’re okay.”
The feminine voice was strong and steady and enough to break through the last vestiges of the disturbing dream.
He opened his eyes and looked at her. Suddenly everything came rushing back to him. “Oh. It’s you. Noelle.”
“That’s right. You’ve been asleep. But I think you’re almost home now.”
Wiping a hand over his eyes, he drew in a long breath and scooted up in the seat. Ahead of them, he could see the tall pines and poplar trees lining the driveway to the Silver Horn ranch house. For a few moments today, after Noelle had found him in the gulch, he’d wondered if he would ever see this place or his family again. But now that he realized he was going to live, he dreaded the berating he would surely get from his grandfather Bart Calhoun.
Realizing the truck was slowing, Evan glanced over to see Noelle gazing past the trees to the three-story brick house and the blaze of Christmas lights decorating its face, the lawn and the long walkway.
“This is where you live?”
“Ever since I was born,” he answered easily. “Why? Is anything wrong?”
She turned her attention away from the house and back to the circular driveway. “No. I’m relieved that I didn’t make a wrong turn and you’re finally home.”
He said, “Just park at the end of the sidewalk and I can make it the rest of the way.”
She stopped the truck at the walk lined with low-growing juniper bushes. The evergreens were threaded with tiny, twinkling lights, turning the walkway into a dazzling trail.
“I’d be honored if you’d come in and meet my family,” he said. “Greta, our cook, will have leftovers from dinner. After everything I’ve put you through today, you must be hungry.”
Her tight hold on the steering wheel never lessened. “No thanks,” she said bluntly. “I have to be getting home.”
Even though the effort caused the gash in his head to hurt, he attempted to smile. “I promise I’m the only lawman that lives here. The rest make their living off cattle and horses.”
Clearly not finding his remark amusing, she stared straight ahead. “I’m sure your folks are fine people. But I have chores waiting on me.”
For some reason, the thought of her going back to that windswept hill and modest little house struck him hard. There wasn’t much there but a barn full of hay, a handful of horses and a small herd of cattle. Why had she chosen such a hard, isolated life for herself? he wondered.
That’s none of your business, Evan. And she clearly isn’t about to let it become your business. So forget it and let her be on her way.
He reached over to shake her hand. She dropped the steering wheel long enough to oblige him. Her grip was strong, but brief.
“Well, thank you for all your trouble, Noelle. I can truly say I’d rather we met under different circumstances, but I’m very grateful you came along when you did.”
“Forget it,” she said curtly, then looked