Christmas in Cowboy Country (15 page)

The selection of reading material on the rack was a little limited, but Annie made do with
New Potluck Suppers
and even peeked into
Auto Repair Monthly
before she picked up a quart of milk and some off-brand cookies that were probably stale. She tossed a packet of beef jerky onto the counter for her dad and bought the potluck magazine for her mother, paid for all of it with a twenty, then walked back to her truck.
She clicked open the door and put the bagged items on the seat before she got in, turning at the sound of an engine humming by. A new, high-powered engine that belonged to a big shiny black truck.
Annie just glimpsed Marshall's rugged profile. He didn't look to the side and didn't see her. A semi came over the rise in the road and bore down on his truck, going well over the speed limit, honking its horn. The driver swerved dangerously to pass him. Annie realized she'd been holding her breath when she saw his taillights continuing on not too far down the road. She guessed he was okay.
And not only him.
He wasn't alone in the cab. There were two heads silhouetted in the glare from the headlights of a smaller, oncoming truck. He drove away too fast for her to tell whether his passenger was male or female.
Annie told herself that she didn't care.
Chapter 15
“T
hat was close.” Kerry leaned forward to try and see the semi around the next bend. “You don't think he was following us, do you?”
Stone shot her a disbelieving look. “He just passed us. Try a little deductive reasoning. He's probably trying to make it over the mountain before a storm hits. Happens all the time at higher elevations.”
“Yeah. I knew that.”
“So what the hell happened to your phone? I've been trying to reach you.”
“Stolen.”
Stone glanced over at his colleague. “Anything sensitive on it?”
“No. I upload my notes into the agency cloud and clear the memory every day.”
“Where was it when they took it?”
“In my car,” the redhead answered. “That's the last place I had it. My best guess is that it slipped out of my pocket and fell under the seat before I knew it was gone. Please don't give me a lecture.”
“I wasn't going to.” He kept his hands on the wheel as the grade got steeper, listening absently as the engine kicked up a notch to handle it. “Someone was prowling around my truck the other day.”
“Did you catch him? Or should I assume it was a bad guy?” she asked dryly. “Could have been one of your many female fans.”
“Give me a break. I can't help it if the ladies love me. And no. Nothing was taken. I didn't really see the person.”
“Rowdy didn't bark?”
“He sniffed the door latch, so I guessed someone tried it to see if I'd left it unlocked and ran when I showed up with Annie.”
“Ah,” the redhead said. “Your new girlfriend. Is she staying in that cute little cabin you rented?”
“No. And she's not my girlfriend.”
“You danced with her like she was,” Kerry teased.
His jaw set in a stern line as he managed not to react. “So what?” Stone said finally. “I like dancing.”
“Don't we all.” Kerry snapped on the radio and hummed along with a forgettable song. “Looked to me as if you really liked
her
. But maybe
like
is not the operative word.”
“What are you getting at?”
Kerry leaned her head back. “Mind if I play life coach?”
“Yes. You're a junior agent and I outrank you. Also, and don't take this too personally, you're a kid. I don't need advice from someone who graduated from college a year ago.”
Kerry seemed unruffled by his sharp retort. “Don't you ever get tired of ricocheting from state to state on all these boring assignments? Real estate fraud isn't exactly thrilling.”
“It could get rough. This is a multistate investigation and the racket is making millions. You think these guys are going to be writing us thank-you notes after we slap cuffs on them?”
Kerry hummed some more. “Nope. I'm just trying to point out the obvious. You've been on the road too long.”
“I appreciate your concern. So where do you want me to leave you?” He nodded toward the lights of the town ahead.
“My car is by the movie theater next to the motel.”
“Is that where you're staying?”
“Yup. When I'm not pretending to be a ski bunny.”
Marshall slapped the steering wheel. “Which reminds me. I told Annie your name was Bunny. You didn't happen to talk to her at the dance, did you?”
A strained silence fell. “I not only talked to her, I introduced myself. As Kerry. I wondered about the look she gave me. Other than that, I would say that she seems like a nice person.”
“She is.”
“And she's really beautiful. You blew it, Stone,” Kerry said gleefully.
“Yeah. Big time.” Marshall groaned. “Goddamn it. No wonder she suddenly hates my guts.”
His partner in crime fighting began to laugh. “You're not going to be able to dance your way out of this one.”
He cursed a blue streak as he made a right turn into the alley that ran between the movie theater and the motel.
“Are you still sure you don't want my advice?” Kerry needled him.
“Not right now. Who is that inside your car?”
Kerry sat straight up. “I don't know.”
Marshall reached down and touched a fingerprint to a hidden biometric lock. He took a gun out of the custom-made compartment next to his seat. “Want me to find out?”
“Not worth the risk. There's nothing in my car worth stealing, either.”
He killed the headlights and stayed where he was. The man in the car clambered out of the passenger side and stood, catching his breath. For a second his jowly face showed clearly as he turned to look up at the fine snow drifting down under the streetlight.
“Shep Connally,” Marshall muttered. “How about that.”
“I suggest we let him go,” Kerry offered. “I mean, get the plates, call them in to the county sheriff and the division office in Denver, and make sure he's followed when he's out of your area. But that's it.”
“I know, I know. Shep is low level. But he's all we have to get to the others.”
Stone didn't release the safety on the gun. They both watched Connally get into a car parked close to Kerry's and drive away—but not before Stone pushed another button to take an infrared photo with the microcamera hidden in the truck's grille.
“Did you get it?” Kerry asked.
He pushed another button and a small laptop lifted up out of the dash, ready to use. Kerry tapped the screen to zoom in. “There you go. Arizona plates.”
“That's where he got his start as a con man.” Stone put the gun away and locked the compartment with his fingerprint. “He was a take-the-money-and-run type. An expert at fleecing little old ladies who hid cash in their mattresses.”
“Anyone like that in Velde?”
“Every town has old folks.” He thought of the town meeting that Kerry hadn't attended. “But our intel had him moving up to bigger and better scams. I've been concentrating on greedy guys looking to cut shady property deals.”
“Like the new development with imaginary houses. Discounts for first buyers, lots of promises, and nothing gets built.”
“That area is the most obvious,” Marshall admitted. “But Connally could have decided to work his former hustle in the meantime. You know, my landlady could help me out with the old folks. She knows everyone in town.”
“So check it out. She doesn't know me from Adam. Even though one of my new best friends tried to rent the cabin before you nabbed it.”
“Really? I didn't know that.”
“Jill's credit rating was crap. I guess yours was solid gold. Does Nell think you're a surveyor or does she know who you really are?”
“She likes me,” he answered flatly. “Not sure why. I know she ran a background check, but the agency ID wouldn't come up for that.”
“Whatever. Back we go. I'm not getting in that car and I'm not sleeping here,” Kerry said firmly. “Thanks in advance for inviting me to stay at the cabin, by the way. You're the best.”
“No way.”
“Why not?”
“Listen up, kid. Because I said so.”
 
 
Kerry stopped by the next day with several bulging plastic bags stuffed with new clothes. Stone opened the cabin door she had just kicked to let him know she was there.
“Hello,” he said. “The answer is still no.”
“I figured.” She hoisted the bags and studied his at-home attire. His holey football jersey and baggy sweatpants didn't seem to impress her. “Are you alone?”
“Yes. And don't give me grief about it.”
Kerry peered past him all the same.
“Practicing your investigative skills?” he asked. Stone hated to be rude, but he wasn't going to invite her in for coffee.
“Just checking. Can you at least keep most of this until I find someplace else to stay?”
“You bet.” He relieved her of the biggest bags.
Rowdy, who'd been treated to a long, late run last night, lifted his head from inside his padded dog bed and thumped his tail. Then he went back to sleep.
“Hi, pooch. Thanks so much, Stone. You're all heart. See you around. Maybe. I requested a transfer last night to a town in the next county. I'm supposed to hear by tomorrow. Seems like the investigation is widening its scope.”
She seemed excited by the prospect. He felt a professional interest. That was about it. She didn't have to know that he'd been informed of her request and given his approval. If it really did get rough, he didn't want her there. And after all these months he wanted nothing more than to be done with crooks and sneaks once and for all.
“Sounds like a real opportunity, Kerry. Go for it.”
“That's the plan.”
“Let me know where you bunk down until then.”
“I will.”
He watched her get back into her rental car and drive off in the direction of Velde's main street. Then he tossed the bags on the bed and tied them closed with double-knotted surveyor's tags, stashing them quickly in the cabin's one small closet. For good measure, he pulled down the extra blankets from the top shelf and set them over the bags.
He'd made a stupid mistake once by offering up an alias for Kerry instead of her real name. With luck and a little patience on Annie's part, he could probably explain it well enough to get her to forgive. He wasn't going to make a second mistake by being careless with those bags.
He made himself a cup of black coffee and headed for the love seat, which was still turned toward the woodstove in the corner. It was a little early in the day for manly brooding and staring into the flames, but he might as well get it over with.
Stone stretched out as best he could, propping his socked feet on the armrest and wrangling a pillow behind his head. The antique love seat had been built when men were shorter and women were tiny.
But it had been cozy squeezing onto it with Annie. She'd stayed on his mind from the day he'd first seen her face.
He knew it was crazy, thinking about her so much. He had come to Colorado to get a job done. Romancing a girl who was as skittish as a wild horse wasn't in his job description. But when it came right down to it, he didn't plan to walk away from this town without her.
But she had her folks, and that ranch, and a life of her own he knew almost nothing about. What exactly did he have to offer her?
Stone sipped his coffee, lost in thought. He loved it here. The area around Velde had a wide-open feel that was timeless. The rugged land looked a lot like where he'd grown up in Wyoming.
His family's ranch was much smaller than the Bennetts' spread, though. And it had long since been sold to pay the bank and other creditors. He'd never really had a place he could call home.
Kerry was right. Jumping from state to state on random assignments was getting old. He'd spent too much of his life on endless stakeouts, staring through dark-tinted windows, waiting for something to happen.
It made a man only see the worst in people.
Something had to change.
He knew Annie was the reason he wanted to. Marshall set his cold coffee aside and folded his arms across his chest. He had to figure out a way to tell her the truth. And soon.
Chapter 16
T
yrell Bennett unfolded the note his wife had left for him on the kitchen table before he started in on the late breakfast his daughter had prepared for both of them. He read the note aloud.
“ ‘Gone to Cilla's. Baking cookies with her and the little girls.' ”
“Sounds like fun,” Annie said, buttering her toast.
Her father did the same, adding jam. “Now why on earth would Lou want to have fun when she can stay right here and wait on me hand and foot?”
“I know you're kidding.”
“Of course I am. She knows you'll take care of me.”
Annie gave him a mock glare and Tyrell laughed.
When they were done eating, he glanced through the local newspaper, then spread it out to show her the photos in the middle. “Bet you she went to see the Christmas decorations on Main Street. It's twinkle time.”
“The Chamber of Commerce went all out. The lights are best at night, though.” She poured herself a cup of coffee.
Tyrell nodded. “So how was the Snow Ball? Weren't you the emcee?”
“Yes, I was. After a while Nell took over.” Annie didn't want to get into the details. “It was fun.”
Her terse answer didn't keep Tyrell from being a dad. “You came back sooner than we expected. Not that we were waiting up for you,” he added hastily.
“Yes, I did. I was feeling kinda tired. Guess that's why I slept late.”
Annie usually got up just after her mom did and they shared an early breakfast, a habit they'd acquired in the last months. Now that her brothers didn't live on the ranch, Lou didn't have as much to do and they both welcomed the chance to spend time together without the men.
“Well then, you must be nice and rested,” her dad said.
Annie gave him a sideways look. She still wasn't inclined to discuss Stone with her father. Although anyone who knew Tyrell and who'd seen her dancing with the surveyor would probably mention it eventually.
“Is that a hint? Nothing needs painting,” she said. “And the barn isn't going to fall down. I checked.”
Her dad folded the paper and put it to one side. “I was thinking you and me could walk the lines.”
“Really?”
“Since that surveyor fella started poking around, I thought it'd be a good idea to check the boundary markers, make sure there's no weak spots in the fence—especially the part where the cow got through that one time. One of the hands fixed it. I'd like to see how it's holding up.”
That surveyor fella
was a step up from
that trespassing son-of-a-gun who tagged my fences
. Annie wondered why her dad had changed his tune. Maybe he'd already heard about her dancing with Stone last night and didn't want to give her a hard time about it.
“All right,” she said with a smile. She would actually enjoy being out in the open on a cold, bright day. The memory of being in Stone's arms had been too sweet a dream to wake up from. She rose from the kitchen table and poured herself a cup of coffee, drinking it quickly.
 
 
They took her truck and Annie drove, jolting over tracks in the land that couldn't really be called roads. Tyrell braced himself against the dashboard.
“Take it easy, girl. When did the ruts get this deep, anyway?”
“Dunno. The snow will fill them in soon enough.”
“Don't remind me.” He gestured to a nearby section offence. “Stop here. Let's walk a while.”
She put the gearshift into park, and they both got out. Tyrell tugged at the brim of his Stetson to keep the sun out of his eyes and turned up his collar. Annie had a knit cap stuffed into her pocket, but she didn't bother with it. The wind coming down from the mountains was exhilarating.
Tyrell gave a nod. “Let's start over there. That's probably the oldest section of fence on the ranch. Still holding up.”
She slipped her arm through his. “Like you.”
Tyrell made a scoffing sound. “More or less.”
From where they were, the old split rails and wood posts looked sturdy enough, but she knew there was a second, much more recent fence of metal and wire directly behind them. Her dad was sentimental about this stretch, the last remnant of her great-grandfather's hard work on the land he'd claimed.
“Now then. Bet you forgot why split rails are eleven feet long,” he began.
She let go of his arm, amused by his teaching tone, a familiar echo of her childhood. “Tell me again.”
“Eleven feet minus the ends that go in the post holes means each rail is actually ten feet. Helps you measure acres real quick, especially on horseback.”
“Right. And an acre was how much an ox could plow in a day.”
“You get a gold star for remembering that. Hell, I can remember my dad plowing with oxen. Did I ever tell you about that? We had to save gas, what with the shortages right after the war. He taught me how, just so I'd know it. He never did want to give up the team.”
“They were something.”
She'd only seen pictures. Annie couldn't recollect much of anything about her grandfather, who'd died when she was just a baby.
“Before your time,” Tyrell mused. “Long before. You have a real feeling for the land, though.”
She was touched to hear him say it.
“Different when you're on foot, isn't it?” he said. “You get to know its secrets and hidden places.”
“Yes.” They had almost reached a corner of the property, judging by the right angle of the fence only yards away. It had been left in its natural state. Annie's roping boots crunched over stubbly brown grass. Beneath the thin crust of snow, its tough roots sank deep into the dry soil, dormant until spring.
The subdued hues of the winter landscape were brightened by evergreen juniper. By it was a low thicket of rabbitbrush, its yellow blossoms turned into fluffy seedpods long since picked over by migrating birds.
They reached the corner. Annie rested a hand on a top rail for a few moments while her father had a look-see.
“Still standing,” he said with satisfaction. “You could knock a fence like this down and reset it in a day if you had to. Of course, sometimes a tornado did the knocking down for you.”
“When was the last one?”
“Couldn't say.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Not in my lifetime.”
Nestled in the foothills of the mountains, the ranch was spared some of the wild weather that hit the plains to the east. And they'd made out all right during the recent floods. But when it came to snow, they generally got the brunt of it.
Tyrell turned away from the fence and looked out over the rolling ranch land toward dark blue mountains dashed and streaked with snow.
He didn't quite smile, but the way his eyes crinkled up conveyed deep contentment. “Your great-grandfather picked good land.”
“He sure did,” Annie said softly. “I don't want the ranch to ever change. I love it the way it is. Wide open. You can breathe.”
He looked at her fondly. “You're a true Bennett.”
“Sam and Zach love it here too.”
Her father jammed his hands into the pockets of his jean jacket. “I know. But they have lives of their own now.”
“They'll be back.”
His expression was pensive. “Maybe.”
“Don't say that. They will.”
“You know, I should have brought you along back in the day when I took the boys to walk the lines,” Tyrell said. “Don't know why I never did. Tradition, I guess. It was more of a father-son thing to do.”
“We're doing it now. That's good enough for me.”
“All right then.” He smiled down at her. “Let's keep on.”
His long strides kept him slightly ahead of her. “Now where is that
monument
?”
“What?”
“Surveyor's term. All it means is a marker on the land. Could be a stone post or an old pipe.”
He seemed to have regained his energy. She had trouble keeping up. “So which is it?”
Tyrell chuckled. “My money's on an old pipe. Bennetts wouldn't waste good money on a fancy cut stone.”
“Is that it?”
Her father squatted down and cleared away a few handfuls of frozen brush to reveal a length of rusted pipe set into the earth. “Yep. Good eye.” He straightened up and eyed the corner angle of the fence. “But if it's here, then it means the fence isn't on the property line. Dagnabbit. I may have to get a professional to do a real survey.”
Annie held her breath.
“Not that guy who was working for Chuck Pfeffer either. I heard in town he's still around.”
“I guess so. He was at the dance. His name is Stone, by the way. Marshall Stone. Nell introduced us.”
That was true. Just not at the dance. Annie's comment was meant to deflect suspicion if her dad heard more about the Snow Ball. She couldn't very well pretend that she knew absolutely nothing about the surveyor.
“Oh?” Her father seemed more interested in the fence, although she could be wrong about that. The line of the newer fence extended ahead. Tyrell frowned when he saw several small neon tags tied to the wire, fluttering in the wind.
“Hmph. So he got out this way too.” He tugged at one.
“Don't take them off.”
“Why not?”
“Surveyors have to review their measurements, don't they?”
“Yes, but—” He looked at her quizzically. “Sounds like you've been learning a little about the subject.”
Annie cleared her throat. “Um, I looked some things up online after you and Stone got into it.”
“Wasn't an argument.”
“It wasn't a friendly chat either. Look on the bright side. Maybe he won't have to come back more than once if he can still find those tags.”
Tyrell left off fooling with them. “All right. Let's see what he comes up with then. He has to file his survey with the town. If he's honest.”
“And what if he's crooked?” Annie actually did want to know.
“We'll find out. Of course, I'd have to pay someone else to prove him wrong.”
There was exasperation in Annie's faint sigh. “Dad, with all the new development being planned, you should get a survey done.”
“I suppose you're right,” he muttered. “Which reminds me. I pulled over by the lookout at the top of the ridge and I saw that so-called development. Nothing but plots. No one working on anything. No lumber. No construction trailer.”
“I know what you mean. I wondered about it myself.”
“The candy canes on the street lamps were a nice touch. There goes the neighborhood, I guess,” Tyrell said wryly. “It's hard to stop progress. If it is progress.”
Annie was grateful for the change of subject. “Hey, I don't know if Mom told you, but I went to talk to the town clerk. I was kinda concerned about some of the old people after that town meeting.”
“Anyone specific?”
“Elsie and Jack Pearson. Do you know them?”
The last name clearly registered. Tyrell nodded. “I remember Jack from back in the day. He's older than I am. But I don't know his wife too well. Haven't talked to him for years.”
Annie hesitated, then offered an account of her visit to the Pearson home with Nell, starting with the reason why: the unopened letter from the tax assessor. Her father listened carefully.
“Mom told me to stay out of it and let Nell take charge,” Annie finished. “She's known Mrs. Pearson for a long time, even though they hadn't talked for quite a while.”
“I'd say your mother got it right,” her father advised. “I'm sure that old lady has her own way of doing things. If I know Nell, she'll keep you posted.”
“That's true.” Annie gave a reluctant smile.
“You ready to head back?”
“Yeah. It's getting cold.” She pulled the knit cap out of her pocket and put it on.
“Thanks for coming along. That long walk did me good. You too, girl. You got roses in your cheeks. Haven't seen you this bright eyed in a long time.”
Annie looked up at her dad. “I just realized my leg didn't hurt the whole time.”
“That's a good sign. Especially after a big dance. Oops.” He stopped suddenly. “Sorry, little fella.”
Some small creature that hadn't crept into its winter burrow scurried away through the undergrowth. “Was that a chipmunk?”
“Didn't see. Coulda been; he was quick. I almost stepped on him.” Tyrell grinned at her. “Don't tell your mother.”
“Why would I?”
“Well, you might. But listen. When we first met, I thought she was so pretty I asked her to dance even though I barely knew how. I stepped on her feet so many times she wouldn't give me her phone number.”
“Really?”
“I'm surprised she never mentioned it. That's my Lou. Loyal as they come.” Tyrell looked ahead, seeing the red truck at last. “So did you meet anyone at the dance?”
“Everyone in Velde was there. Plus a lot of new faces.”
“And?”
“I had a good time, Dad.”
“But not with anyone in particular.”
“Nope,” she said cheerfully.
“Just thought I'd ask,” he said vaguely. “If you are seeing someone, you can tell me and Mom. You don't have to, of course.”
“Thanks. Good to know.”
Tyrell gave her a sheepish smile. “Well, at least you're getting back in the swing of things.”
“I'm trying to.”
“After all these months at home, your mom and I—well, we hope you still like being here.”

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