Читать книгу Wild Horses - B.J. Daniels - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

LIVIE HAD TRIED to call Cooper last night and again this morning. The calls had gone straight to voice mail. That’s why she was so surprised when she heard his old pickup pull up out front.

In an attempt to keep his grown daughters close, Buckmaster had what he called bunkhouses built a few hundred yards from the main house. Each was a separate apartment with a communal living space as fancy as the main house.

Livie was the only one still living there with the twins away at college, Ainsley in law school, Kat living most of her time out of a tent on one of her many photo shoots and Bo in a small apartment in one of the historical buildings along the main drag of Big Timber.

Livie liked being on the ranch since she rode her horse most days. Also she liked being close to Cooper, who was the ranch’s head wrangler and horse trainer.

At the sound of his pickup, she grabbed her robe. She heard his pickup door slam and, a moment later, his insistent knock at her door. Quickly finger brushing her hair, she braced herself. She couldn’t help being half hopeful and half terrified as to what this early morning visit meant.

As she opened the door, she knew what she must look like. Like a woman who’d just awakened, her hair a mess, her face still soft from sleep—the way he’d seen her numerous times when he’d awakened next to her.

Cooper stood on the front step, a scowl on his face, until he looked at her. For a moment, something familiar flickered in his dark gaze. Desire. But that moment of weakness quickly passed. “Come on,” he said, his voice rough as if the desire had left his expression but it hadn’t gone far.

She realized he might be planning to drag her down to the sheriff’s office. She’d known Sheriff Frank Curry since she was a toddler. Her face heated at the thought of having to tell him her story. “Where are we—”

“Let’s go find the bastard. Get dressed. I’ll be waiting in the truck.” He didn’t give her a chance to speak before he turned and stalked off.

She watched him go back to his pickup, her aching need to be held by him an unbearable pain in her chest. She hadn’t even been sure she would ever see him again. But what he’d suggested, going after the blackmailer... He couldn’t be serious.

Livie hurriedly pulled on a pair of designer jeans, a light cotton rust-colored sweater and her cowboy boots. She knew she didn’t have time for makeup so she quickly brushed her teeth and her hair, dabbed on some lip gloss and left.

As she climbed into the passenger’s side of his pickup, she said, “I don’t think this is good idea.”

He cocked his head, eyeing her in a way that told her he was still furious with her and equally as hurt and disappointed. “How would you suggest we handle this?”

She didn’t dare admit that she had thought about paying the blackmailer off. She wasn’t naive. She knew that the man would try to bleed her dry. But now he had nothing to hold over her head. She’d heard her father negotiate all kinds of deals in his lifetime. Livie was sure she could make a deal so she would never hear from the man again.

But it would have meant going to her father since it was going to take more than fifty thousand dollars to be rid of him. She knew how Cooper felt about all of it so that option wasn’t on the table.

“It’s just that it could be dangerous,” she managed to say under his intent gaze.

He laughed, surprising her. “Honey, before I became the man who was to marry Olivia Hamilton, I was capable of taking care of myself. I can take care of you, too, for that matter. If you should ever decide to trust me.” With that he turned the key. The old pickup’s engine rumbled to life and he backed out, kicking up fresh gravel.

Livie bristled. She knew he thought her an overindulged debutante, but there was more to her than just being Buckmaster Hamilton’s daughter and damned if she wasn’t going to prove it to him. If he gave her the chance.

* * *

NETTIE BENTON CURRY, the new bride of Sheriff Frank Curry, had a problem that had been eating at her for days. If she didn’t talk to someone about it soon, she thought she might burst. What surprised her was that there was only one person she could tell. That seemed shocking given that she had spent most of her sixty-some years spreading gossip. She was good at it. She listened, she watched, she knew things that other people didn’t and she liked to share it.

But the one thing she’d never really had was a close friend she could confide in who would keep her secrets.

That’s why it was ironic when she realized the only person she could tell was her old nemesis, Kate LaFond. Kate, now Kate French, was a good thirty years younger than her. Not that the age difference was the problem.

When Kate had come to town, Nettie had spent weeks spying on the woman, convinced that Kate was hiding something. Of course, she was, and Nettie had been bound and determined to get to the bottom of it.

What was surprising was that since the secrets had come out, Kate had become a...friend.

So now, unable to keep what she’d done to herself any longer, Nettie stopped by the Branding Iron Café to see its owner. It was late enough that the first round of ranchers who sat at the large table at the front was gone. Only a few touristy-looking people were still having breakfast.

The old mining town and near-ghost town of Beartooth was seeing a revival of sorts. The general store had been rebuilt as it was before the fire that destroyed it last year and work was continuing on the old hotel. It would never be like it was back in the late 1800s when it was a gold boomtown. But now it had a post office, café, store, bar and hotel.

What few other buildings remained were deserted, standing empty, the window glass long gone, leaving black holes where windowpanes had once kept out the elements. On the way out of town there was evidence of an old gas station with two pumps under a hip roof. Next to it, a classic auto garage from a time when it didn’t take a computer to work on a car engine.

No one passed through Beartooth. It was as far off the road as a town could be. The pavement ended at the north end of town. From there a dirt road wound up into the mountains to fork off into numerous old logging or mining roads.

So it was amazing to Nettie and most residents that a few tourists were already trickling into town even though the hotel wasn’t up and running just yet. But the general store was busier than usual.

Kate saw Nettie come into the café and motioned her to a booth out of the way. Nettie had just sat down when Kate appeared with two cups, a coffeepot and one of her large homemade cinnamon rolls. She put the roll in front of Nettie along with a fork and poured them both coffee before sitting down.

Nettie took a bite of the cinnamon roll. It was still warm, butter and icing dripping off the sides. Kate knew that she liked the center cuts because they were the gooiest.

“How are you feeling?” Nettie asked, now not sure she could bring up the subject that had caused her so many sleepless nights.

“Good,” Kate said, grinning as she placed a hand over her huge belly. “Any day now. I’m trying to come up with names. Jack is no help. He wants to name her Falcon or River or Sunshine.” She shook her head, laughing.

“You aren’t working too much, are you?” Nettie asked in alarm. She knew that Kate had had several miscarriages in the past.

“I’m not working at all, really. I just can’t stay away from this place. That’s why I’m glad you came in to visit this morning.” She frowned. “Isn’t it your day off at the store?”

Nettie had once not only owned Beartooth General Store with her former husband, but also she’d run it for years. When it had burned down, she’d sold out, lock, stock and barrel, but before long she’d missed working there. Fortunately, a local benefactor was behind the rebuilding of the town and had offered Nettie a part-time job.

“So if you’re not working today...” Kate eyed Nettie. “What’s wrong?”

Nettie started to deny that anything was bothering her, but saved her breath. “I did something.” She glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “It’s about Tiffany.”

Like everyone else in four counties, Kate knew about Sheriff Frank Curry’s daughter, Tiffany. The seventeen-year-old girl had shown up to surprise the father who hadn’t known she even existed. The surprise was that she’d come to Beartooth to kill him after being brainwashed by her hateful mother.

“You know Tiffany is still locked up at the state mental hospital,” Nettie said, and Kate nodded, waiting for what she didn’t know. “The state did some testing when Tiffany was sent up there to see if she was competent to stand trial. They also did a DNA test and they sent Frank the results. I mean, his ex, Pam, was such a liar... What were the chances that she’d even lied about Tiffany being his child?”

“So is she?” Kate asked in a whisper.

“Well, that’s just it. Frank never opened the envelope with the results in them.”

“Nettie, what did you do?” Kate asked even though from her expression she already knew.

She sighed. “I found the envelope. I know I shouldn’t have—”

Kate held up her hand. “Don’t tell me. And you can’t tell Frank, either. If he wanted to know, he would have looked.”

“He’s always felt responsible since the child was Pam’s as far as we know and her hatred of him made Tiffany the way she is, so he didn’t care if Tiffany was his or not.”

“I know he feels guilty, but he shouldn’t,” Kate said. “Maybe Pam did poison the girl against Frank. But as psycho as Pam was, some of that also could be genetic in Tiffany.”

“It still doesn’t help my problem,” Nettie said with a groan. “I wish I’d never opened that envelope. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Kate smiled and reached across the table to cover her hand. “We both know what you were thinking. You wanted to know the truth. Now you do. And now you’re going to have to take it to your grave.” She met Nettie’s gaze. “You know your husband. If the results of that test got out after he specifically didn’t want to know...”

Nettie nodded. “But he held on to the envelope. If he really hadn’t wanted to know, he would have destroyed it, right?”

“Where is Frank now?” Kate asked, clearly having guessed.

“He’s gone up to the mental hospital to see Tiffany—just as he does every week,” Nettie said with a shudder. “And every week that girl scares the bejesus out of him and breaks his heart just a little more.”

* * *

THERE WAS LITTLE conversation on the drive north. Cooper stared straight ahead, his large sun-browned hands on the wheel. He’d dressed in a chambray shirt and jeans, both worn, a straw cowboy hat on his head and scuffed boots that looked as old as his pickup.

She suspected he’d purposely dressed like the working man he was not just to show her but also the man he would be confronting. He wore his blue-collar background like a chip on his shoulder. What he didn’t seem to realize was how proud she was of him. While he’d never told her much about his family background, she gathered that he’d often gone to bed hungry as a child. She also knew that he’d never had much. It was one reason he took pride in the cabin he’d built shortly after going to work for her father. She loved him because of it, not in spite of his background that had made him the man he was.

A wave of nausea hit her. She concentrated on the scenery, surprised she hadn’t noticed how everything had greened up after the long winter. Nor had she realized what a beautiful day it was. The vast Montana sky was a deep blue, making the cumulus clouds over the mountains even whiter. The peaks were still snowcapped and would be through most of the summer months at high altitude. It was a sight she’d never tired of.

Livie breathed in the day, trying not to fidget. The thought of coming face-to-face with the man who’d rescued her last winter made her anxious, and not just because she feared what the man might do.

She looked over at Cooper. Just the sight of him always made her smile and her heart lift as if filled with helium. Her love for him was a constant ache that often left her feeling breathless. She wanted this man, needed this man, didn’t think she could live without him. What he didn’t understand was that she would have followed him to the ends of the earth.

It was her father who’d balked at the thought of her marrying him before the house Cooper was building for them was finished. Daddy had wanted her to have a brand-new house as a wedding present, which of course Cooper had refused. Her sisters had chimed in. That was the problem with having five sisters like hers.

“Seriously?” Kat had asked. “You won’t last a week in that tiny cabin before you come home. When is he going to have your new house finished?”

“I don’t know. Doing it all himself takes time. You know how he is.”

“Where would you put all your stuff?” Harper had wanted to know.

Even Ainsley, who seemed to like Cooper, asked, “Is he just trying to make a point by insisting on doing it all himself?”

“Of course he is,” Bo had butt in.

Livie had stood up for Cooper, saying, “He wanted us to wait to get married until he had the house finished. I’m the one who doesn’t want to wait any longer. I will be fine in the cabin. This way, I can have more input on the house.”

Her sisters had exchanged a look. Cooper’s stubborn pride was legendary at the ranch and even her sisters thought he was wrong.

If only living in a tiny rustic cabin for a while was her biggest problem, she thought now as she looked out the pickup window. For weeks, she’d been playing the “if-only” game. If only she and Cooper hadn’t fought. If only she hadn’t taken off that night into the storm. If only...

Sometimes she couldn’t breathe she was so scared that she was going to lose him. Now, though, she was more afraid for him. Afraid not only what the man who rescued her would do—but say. What if he told them she had initiated the sex that night? What if Cooper believed it? Worse, what if it was true since she couldn’t remember what had happened?

“I don’t know what you have planned,” she said tentatively. “But I’m worried about you.”

He shot her a look. “Don’t worry about me. After everything you told me at our engagement party, how much worse could it get?”

“He could shoot you.” This was Montana. Homeowners owned guns and knew how to use them. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Cooper let out a bitter laugh. “Nothing could hurt me any worse than I’m hurting right now. Unless there’s something more you haven’t told me.”

She shook her head, her gaze going back to the blur of pine trees out her side window. They weren’t far from the spot where she’d gone off the road. Like that night, she hadn’t seen another vehicle in miles. No houses. Nothing but wild Montana country.

“Then let’s just see what this man has to say for himself,” Cooper said.

“The turn is up here just past that bridge.” Livie saw the area as it had been that January night—covered with snow—even though spring had come here. Only a few snow piles melted under the shade of the pines. It was a different kind of cold that settled inside her as Cooper slowed to turn.

* * *

AS HE DROVE, Cooper thought back to Livie’s return after that January fight. She’d been distant. He recalled that when they’d finally gotten together, she’d wanted the light out when they’d made love. His heart sank. What if she was telling the truth and this man had drugged and raped her?

It was what she wasn’t telling him that made him doubt her. He knew this woman too well. Whatever she was keeping from him weighed on him. He needed to know, and yet he feared it would be his undoing.

He also knew he should have gone to the sheriff and let him handle this. He’d considered doing that, but only for an instant. He had to handle this himself. He couldn’t face himself if he didn’t. He needed to look this bastard in the eyes before he beat the crap out of him. But, of course, he also had his reasons for not wanting to go to the law for help. Going to the sheriff would be a last resort and one that he knew he would regret.

Following Livie’s directions, he turned up a mountain road with a sign that read Private. He could see nothing ahead but trees with a towering peak as a backdrop. Private road?

Livie had said the man took her to his cabin in the middle of nowhere. It was definitely in the middle of nowhere, all right. He thought of his own cabin, the one he and Livie had planned to live in until the house he was building was finished. His cabin was small, neatly laid out, because he’d built it himself, but it was primitive compared to how Livie had always lived. And yet, he was proud of it. The cabin sat on the first land he’d ever owned.

So he was expecting a cabin much like his own as he came around a bend in the road. But what came into view through the pines wasn’t anyone’s idea of a cabin, except maybe a Hamilton. The rambling huge structure was log—that much was true. But other than that, the dwelling was as ostentatious as any he’d seen, except, of course, the main house on the Hamilton Ranch.

Cooper shot a look at Livie. She was staring at the house as if seeing it for the first time. Or seeing it through his eyes, a man who’d grown up dirt poor in the true sense of the words. He was half hoping she would say they’d made a wrong turn and that this wasn’t the “cabin.”

But he could tell by her anxious expression that there had been no wrong turn. This was the place the man had brought her to that night in January.

Livie had often accused him of having a chip on his shoulder when it came to anyone with a lot of money. He’d always denied it, even to himself, until now. Seeing this place, he hated this man even more than he thought possible.

Cooper parked next to the owner’s large black shiny new SUV. Cutting the engine, he sat looking at the massive front door of the “cabin” and realized he’d done something he’d always prided himself on never doing. He’d lied to Livie. He was scared as hell to meet this man, fearing that what waited beyond that door could kill him. Not the way Livie thought. Hell, at this point he’d almost welcome a bullet.

His greatest fear was that Livie had wanted the man behind this door. Wanted what even a stranger had to offer over what Cooper could give her.

“Let’s get this over with,” he said, and climbed out.

* * *

LIVIE TRIED TO still her trembling as she opened her pickup door and stepped out. Her legs felt like water under her. She wobbled, light-headed and nauseous, and prayed she could hold it together.

It was colder up here in the mountains, but her real cold was the ice that had compressed her heart at the thought of what could happen in the next few minutes. She shouldn’t have let Cooper come up here. Not that she had a choice. Had she refused, he would have thought she was protecting the man.

She crossed her arms over her chest. She could do this. She was Olivia Hamilton, a woman who prided herself on her strength and determination. She could face this man who was set on destroying her life.

And yet, she had lived in fear of what had really happened that night for the past three months. There was no doubt that the man had seduced her. He’d rescued her, brought her to his beautiful home, made her feel grateful and protected. The truth was, he’d lulled her into a feeling of security with his graciousness and his beautiful home. Not to mention his expensive wine.

She’d fallen into his trap because she was Olivia Hamilton, the pampered, protected daughter of Senator Buckmaster Hamilton. It never dawned on her that he might want something from her. In her relief at being rescued, she’d trusted a total stranger because he had looked the part and had said and done all the right things—at least until she’d passed out.

That’s why she blamed herself.

For months she’d regretted taking off her engagement ring and storming out that night. If only she could go back... If only... At the back of her mind—and she knew Cooper’s, as well—was the question. Had the wine been drugged or was that her way of deceiving herself?

Cooper, his back ramrod straight, mounted the steps to the huge wooden door. He grabbed the bear-shaped knocker and pounded hard on the door. No sound came from inside. He pounded again. Still it took a few minutes before the door opened.