Authors: Rita Herron
“Sure.” He looked slightly disappointed, but she hurried away before she did something stupid like confess the truth.
Kim and Lucy passed her, and Lucy waved, but Kim’s curious look made Rachel wonder if Johnny had shared his suspicions with her. Desperate to shake her nerves, she joined Ms. Ellen and they worked in tandem making soup and sandwiches for lunch.
“Feeding this crew is a job,” Ms. Ellen said in a blustery tone. “But I love cooking and these kids.” A sad expression drew Ms. Ellen’s usual smile into a melancholy moment. “You know, I lost a boy years ago. Just took off with the wrong crowd and he never came back.”
Rachel’s heart ached, and she put her arm around the older woman. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Ellen. Do you know what happened to him?”
Ms. Ellen wiped at a tear on her cheek. “Ended up dying in a car accident. Worst part was that I never got to tell him how much I loved him.” She sighed heavily. “And that I forgave him for running away.” She clutched Rachel’s hand. “Sometimes, child, you got to just snatch the moment. And when you love someone, you gots to tell them ’cause you never know how long they’ll be around.”
Rachel squeezed Ms. Ellen’s hands. She sensed Ms. Ellen was trying to give her advice, and she wished she could trust her heart enough to confide in this woman about her past. And to allow her budding feelings toward Johnny to grow.
But Rex would find her, and then she’d be sorry if she’d opened up to anyone else.
They both fell silent as they finished preparing the meal. If only her life here could last.
By the time she’d finished making the soup, she’d splattered tomato juice all over her shirt. So she walked back to the cabin to change before the lunch session began. But the moment she stepped inside, an eerie premonition skated up her spine.
The faint scent of a man’s cologne again…only this time it was different. Not the usual one Rex wore. Had he changed, or had someone else been inside the cabin?
The hairs at the nape of her neck bristled, and she swung around to check the corners of the room. Someone was watching her….
She could feel it. Sense their eyes on her back.
Her pulse clamored as she scanned the living area and kitchen, but she didn’t see anyone. Only, something seemed different. Had she left that coffee cup on the counter this morning? And that knife…
No…she’d put her cup in the dishwasher. And the knife…she hadn’t used it for anything. And Kenny knew better than to play with sharp knives.
Anxiety knotted her shoulders, and she grabbed the knife and clenched it in case of an attack. Then she tiptoed into the hall to check the bedrooms. A twig on the floor caught her eyes, then dirt.
A footprint.
Too big to be Kenny’s or hers.
Someone else had been in her place.
Was he still here?
Inching forward, she peeked inside Kenny’s room, but it was empty. His pj’s lay on the floor beside the bottom bunk where he’d slept. His stuffed animals and cowboy toys were on the top bunk, staged as he’d left them when he’d set them up that way.
She moved slowly into the room and checked the closet, then breathed a small sigh of relief when she found it empty.
Her hand trembled as she forced herself to return to the hall and look into the room where she’d slept. Her stomach clenched as she scanned the area.
Her clothes had been rustled through in her suitcase, some of her underwear tossed about.
Her breath caught.
And a pair of her red lace panties had been ripped and were shredded across the white lacy sheets on the bed.
T
HERE WERE FOOTPRINTS
around the broken fencing.
Johnny knelt and examined them, anger railing through him. Brody had insisted on installing state-of-the-art maintenance-free fencing made of a high-density polyethylene, or HDPE. It was brand-new.
Which meant that this section had definitely been sabotaged.
Furious, he scanned the land beyond the pasture and realized several cattle had escaped because of the opening.
Brody had hired a couple of ex-cons, mostly misdemeanor records, no felonies, but he’d wanted to give them a second chance.
Could one of the employees have done this? Maybe one who was working for Copeland?
“We can fix it?” Ricardo asked.
Johnny nodded. “Yes. Then we’ll round up the cattle that strayed from the herd.”
Ricardo nodded, then Johnny strode to his pickup to retrieve his tools.
He and Ricardo worked for the next hour repairing the fence, then Johnny drove Ricardo back, saddled his favorite stallion, Soldier, and a quarter horse for the boy, and they rode out to corral the herd.
By the time they finished and had returned to the main house, it was lunchtime and he was sweaty and tired. But he was determined to figure out who’d sabotaged the fence, so he hurried to his office to search through employee records.
Even if he didn’t find anyone suspicious from the preliminary background checks, he might determine who’d been driving that vehicle the night before. That person might have seen something, somebody who didn’t belong.
Three men on the list had records. The first one a DUI, the second a vandalism charge, and the third, charges of petty larceny and assault, although the assault charges had been dropped. He cross-checked each name with the job assignments and work schedule, then perused their personal information for the type of vehicles they drove.
The man with the petty larceny record and assault charges, Frank Dunham, drove an SUV. Could he possibly be working for Copeland?
Johnny ran a search on Dunham and minutes later muttered a curse. Frank Dunham had served time in the state pen with Carter.
Dammit. Carter had been furious when Johnny had visited him. He hated him and Brandon. Would he sabotage the ranch to get revenge?
R
EX STUDIED THE
DOSSIER
his friend had printed out on Johnny Long, a litany of curses spewing from his mouth.
Damn cocky bastard had won a slew of rodeo awards and was a hero in the circuit. He had money coming out of his ass and enough land for an army to live on. He raised prized stallions, bred horses for racing and stud fees, and raised prime beef cattle.
And from the damn news article about this BBL place, Johnny Long was not only one of the fundraisers, but he’d also donated a million dollars to back the ranch and kid camps himself.
All to make himself look like some kind of damn saint.
But Johnny Long was no saint.
Rex could look into his eyes and see the evil. He skimmed the man’s background and read that he’d grown up dirt-poor with a drunken, abusive father and a mother who’d run off and left him. Johnny had also tangled with the law himself and had liked bar brawls a little too much when he was young. He’d escaped jail time by the skin of his tanned, leathery face.
Rex flipped through the photographs of all the groupies who’d flung themselves at him. Women who would drop their pants for him at the crook of his finger.
He’d charm their clothes off with his shiny belt buckles, his smooth talking and awards and cocky grin.
Was that what he was doing to Rachel? Charming his way into her bed? Had she already succumbed to the man and become another whore for him to brag about?
And his son?
What the hell was she doing taking his son into another man’s place to live?
“You want me to take care of Johnny Long?”
Rex shook his head, then unfolded a wad of cash and paid his buddy for the information. He’d already sworn him to secrecy.
Any man who broke that code would end up dead and his buddy knew it.
The man stuffed the money in his pocket, then slid into the shadows of the bar and out the back door.
Rex crushed the damn dossier in his hands, polished off his whiskey, then waved the waitress over for another.
If Johnny Long thought he was going to steal his wife and son, he was a fool.
By God, he would kill the son of a bitch and make Rachel watch. Then she’d beg him to take her back just to save herself from what he planned to do to her.
Chapter Seven
The fact that Frank Dunham had served time in jail with Carter seemed too coincidental for comfort and raised ugly suspicions in Johnny’s head.
He checked his watch. Lunchtime. He’d already posted a note to the ranch hands and staff requesting a meeting to discuss the rodeo plans, so Dunham should be there, as well.
After the meeting, he’d confront the ex-con about the fencing. If he was in cahoots with Carter to cause trouble, Dunham’s second chance would be gone. And Johnny would be heading back to the state pen to have a chat with his once-best friend.
Remembering Rachel, he washed up and changed his sweaty shirt. Not that he wouldn’t dirty another one this afternoon, working with the horses, but he hated to go to dinner smelling like an animal.
By the time he arrived at the cafeteria, it was packed with campers and hands. Starved, he grabbed a tray and loaded it with a bowl of soup, two roast-beef sandwiches and a glass of sweet iced tea. He spotted Kenny talking and laughing with the day campers, then joined Brody at a corner table.
“I fixed the fence,” he told Brody. “There was definitely foul play.”
“One of the kids?” Brody asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t think so. I checked with the counselors and they were all accounted for. I’m going to question one of the ex-cons we hired.”
Brody cleared his throat. “I’m worried about Copeland. What if he’s hired someone to make us look bad before the rodeo?”
Johnny considered the possibility. “He’s worth checking out.”
Brody frowned and dug into his food. “By the way, we have more sponsors for the rodeo, and a local reporter named June Warner is going to publicize the event. She’s bringing a crew to interview you and film some of the campers and activities.” Brody grinned. “So put on the charm, Johnny.”
Johnny winced and wolfed down his sandwich. The BBL needed publicity for the rodeo, but he hated to put himself in front of the camera. He’d been thrown in the slaughterhouse before and it hadn’t been pretty.
“Maybe you’d better handle this June person,” Johnny suggested. “Not everyone in the media likes Johnny Long.”
“Forget about the ones who slammed you. You’ve got hundreds of fans who love you, so show them what you’re made of, Johnny.”
Johnny sipped his tea. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Maybe it was time to man-up in front of the press.
“Speaking of the media, I see June now.” Brody waved at an attractive blonde in a black pantsuit in the doorway. A cameraman stood beside her, but in spite of Johnny’s conversation with Brody, his defenses rose.
He’d been annihilated once, but that had been a personal attack. It had hurt his career, but no one else suffered. This time, if he was crucified, the publicity might affect the BBL.
Then, you’ll have to make sure that doesn’t happen.
Brody waved his hands to quiet the group. “This is June Warner and her cameraman, Robbie,” Brody said as he introduced the reporter. “They’ll be talking to everyone, employees and campers. Be sure to tell them what you like about the camp and forget your complaints.”
His comment earned a round of chuckles as he’d obviously hoped.
Johnny spotted Rachel watching, and noticed that she kept fidgeting. And when Brody mentioned that June would be talking to everyone, she ducked into the crowd as if she wanted to hide from the reporter. Why would Rachel avoid the media?
Because she didn’t want her picture to show up in the paper? His jaw hardened. That might alert whomever she was running from where she was hiding….
Brody finished, then handed Johnny the mic, jarring him from his thoughts. “I appreciate all the hard work everyone has put in to make our first camp a success.” Johnny scanned the boys’ faces. “And you guys and girls are doing a great job helping to make this ranch run smoothly.”
“When’s the rodeo gonna be?” a boy named Willie, in the front row, asked.
Johnny grinned at the handicapped ten-year-old. A car accident had severed his right hand, but the kid was tough and was learning how to manage. “Two weeks. That doesn’t give us much time to prepare.”
Lucy waved her hand to get his attention, her red head bobbing excitedly, and Johnny’s heart melted. “Yes, Lucy?”
“Are you gonna do trick riding, Uncle J.?”
Johnny nodded. “Yes, and I have some other friends from the rodeo circuit who will make special appearances. But you guys will be the highlight of the show.”
“When do we start practicing?” another boy asked.
“How do we sign up?”
Johnny raised a finger to quiet them. “Let me tell you about the events, then you can try out different ones over the next few days. After that, you can choose the events you want to participate in.” He glanced at Rachel. “Because the rodeo is open to the public, we plan to include activities for visitors, although they have to qualify, register and pay fees for the competitive events. We’re also going to offer games for the younger kids. We’ll have stick-horse races, pony rides, face branding, horseshoes, musical hay bales, a cactus hat throw and, of course, lots of food.”