Читать книгу Lone Star Winter: The Winter Soldier - Diana Palmer - Страница 8

Cy took his medicine and had the first good night’s sleep he’d enjoyed in days. He’d sent a capable, older cowboy over to Lisa’s ranch the night before to sleep in the bunkhouse and keep an eye on things. He’d also arranged covertly for sensitive listening equipment to be placed around her house, and for a man to monitor it full-time. He might be overly cautious, but he wasn’t taking chances with a pregnant woman. He knew Manuel Lopez’s thirst for revenge far too well. The drug lord had a nasty habit of targeting the families of people who opposed him. And Lopez might not know Lisa was pregnant. Cy wasn’t willing to risk leaving Lisa out there alone.

The next day he drove over to Lisa’s house and found her struggling with a cow in the barn, trying to pull a calf by hand. He couldn’t believe she was actually doing that!

He’d barely turned off the engine before he was out of the big sports utility vehicle and towering over her in the barn. She looked up with a grimace on her face when she realized what a temper he was in.

“Don’t you say a word, Cy Parks,” she told him at once, wiping the sweat from her forehead. “There’s nobody but me to do this, and the cow can’t wait until one of my part-timers comes in from the lower pasture. They’re dipping cattle…”

“So you’re trying to do a job that you aren’t half big enough to manage. Are you out of your mind?” he burst out. “You’re pregnant, for God’s sake!”

She was panting, sprawled between the cow’s legs. She glared up at him and blew a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. “Listen, I can’t afford to lose the cow or the calf…”

“Get up!” he said harshly.

She glared at him.

For all his raging temper, he reached down and lifted her tenderly to her feet, putting her firmly to one side. He got down on one knee beside the cow and looked at the situation grimly. “Have you got a calf-pull?”

She ground her teeth together. “No. It broke and I didn’t know how to fix it.”

He said a few words under his breath and went out to his truck, using the radio to call for help. Fortunately one of his men was barely two minutes away. Harley, his foreman, came roaring up beside Cy’s truck, braked and jumped out with a length of rope.

“Good man, Harley,” Cy said as he looped the rope around the calf’s feet. “If we can’t get him out our selves, we can use the winch on my truck. Ready? Pull!”

They were bathed in sweat and cursing when they managed to get the calf halfway out.

“He’s still alive,” Cy said, grinning. “Okay, let’s go again. Pull!”

Three more firm tugs and the calf slipped out. Cy cleared his nose and mouth and the little black-baldy bawled. The cow turned, gently licking away the slick birth membranes covering her calf.

“That was a near miss,” Harley observed, grinning.

“Very near.” Cy glowered at Lisa. “In more ways than one.”

“Excuse me?” Harley asked.

“It was my cow,” Lisa pointed out. “I thought I could do it by myself.”

“Pregnant, and you think you’re Samson,” he said with biting sarcasm.

She put her hands on her hips and glared up at him. “Go away!”

“Gladly. When I’ve washed my hands.”

“There’s a pump over here,” Harley reminded him, indicating it.

“You go ahead, son,” Cy muttered, glancing at his stitched arm. “I’ve got a raw wound. I’ll have to have antibacterial soap.”

Harley didn’t say anything, but his face was expressive. He thought his poor old crippled boss was a real basket case, barely fit to do most ranch work.

“Antibacterial soap, indeed. The germs would probably die of natural causes if they got in you!” Lisa muttered.

“At least my germs are intelligent! I wouldn’t try pulling calves if I was pregnant!”

Lisa almost doubled over at the thought of a pregnant Cy Parks, which only served to make him angrier.

“I’ll get back to your place and start the men culling cattle for the next sale, boss man. I can wash up there!” Harley called, and didn’t wait for an answer. The amused expression on his face was eloquent—he wanted to get out of the line of fire!

“Craven coward,” she muttered, staring after the cloud of dust he and the truck vanished in. “Are all your men like that?”

He followed her into the kitchen. “He’s not afraid of me,” he said irritably. “He thinks I’m pitiable. In fact, he has delusions that he’s soldier of fortune material since he spent two weeks having intense combat training with a weekend merk training school,” he added with pure sarcasm. “Have you got a hand towel?”

She pulled one from a drawer while he lathered his arms, wincing a little as the water and soap stung the stitches.

“You don’t want to get that infected,” she said, studying the wound as she stood beside him with the towel.

“Thanks for the first-aid tip,” he said with failing patience. “That’s why I asked for antibacterial soap!” He took the towel she offered, but his eyes were on her flat belly even as he dried away the wetness. “You take chances,” he said shortly. “Dangerous chances. A lot of women miscarry in the first trimester, even without doing stupid things like heavy lifting and trying to pull calves. You need to think before you act.”

She studied his quiet, haunted face. Discussing pregnancy didn’t seem to make him feel inhibited at all. “You must have been good to your wife while she was pregnant,” she said gently.

“I wanted the baby,” he replied. His face hardened. “She didn’t. She didn’t want a child until she was in her thirties, if then. But I wouldn’t hear of her terminating the pregnancy,” he added, and there was an odd, pained look in his eyes for an instant. “So she had the child, only to lose him in a much more horrible way. But de spite everything, I wanted him from the time I knew he was on the way.”

She felt his pain as if it were tangible. “I won’t have anyone to share this with,” she said, her voice husky with remembered loss and pain. “I was over the moon when they did the blood test and said I was pregnant. Walt wouldn’t even talk about having children. He died the night after I conceived, but even if he’d lived long enough to know about the baby, he would have said it was too soon.” She shrugged. “I guess it was.”

She’d never told that to another soul. It embarrassed her that it had slipped out, but Cy seemed unshockable.

“Some men don’t adjust well to children,” he said simply. It went without saying that he wasn’t one of them. He didn’t know what else to say. He felt sorry for her. She obviously took pleasure in her pregnancy, and it was equally obvious that she loved children. He sat down at the table with her. Maybe she needed to get it out of her system. Evidently she could tell him things that she couldn’t tell anyone else.

“Go on,” he coaxed. “Get everything off your chest. I’m a clam. I don’t tell anything I know, and I’m not judgmental.”

“I think I sensed that.” She sighed. “Want some coffee? I have to drink decaf, but I could make some.”

“I hate decaf, but I’ll drink it.”

She smiled. She got up and filled the pot and the filter and started the coffeemaker while she got down white mugs. She glanced at him with pursed lips. “Black,” she guessed.

He gave her an annoyed look. “Don’t get conceited because you know how I take my coffee.”

“I won’t.”

She poured the coffee into the cups and sat back down, watching as he cupped his left hand around it. “Does it still hurt?” she asked, referring to the burns on his hand.

“Not as much as it used to,” he said flatly.

“You don’t have anyone to talk to, either, do you?”

He shook his head. “I’m not much for bars, and the only friend I have is Eb. Now that he’s married, we don’t spend a lot of time together.”

“It’s worse when you hold things inside,” she murmured absently, staring into her coffee. “Everybody thinks I had a fairy-tale marriage with a sexy man who loved danger and could have had any woman he wanted.” She smiled wryly. “At first I thought so, too. He seemed like a dream come true. Boy, did my illusions leave skid marks taking off!”

“So did mine,” he said flatly.

She leaned forward, feeling daring. “Yes, but I’ll bet you weren’t a virgin who thought people did it in the dark fully clothed!”

He burst out laughing. He hadn’t felt like laughing since…he couldn’t remember. Her eyes bubbled with joy; her laugh was infectious. She made him hungry, thirsty, desperate for the delight she engendered.

She grinned. “There. You look much less intimidating when you smile. And before you regret telling me secrets, I’d better mention that I’ve never told anybody what my best friend did on our senior trip to Florida. And I won’t tell you now.”

“Was it scandalous?”

“It was for Jacobsville.” She chuckled.

“Didn’t you do anything scandalous?”

“Not me,” she popped back. “I’m the soul of propriety. My dad used to say that I was the suffering conscience of the world.” Her eyes darkened. “He died of a stroke while he was using the tiller out in the garden. When he didn’t come in for lunch, I knew something was wrong. I went out to find him.” She moved her coffee cup on the table. “He was sitting against a tree with his thermos jug of coffee still in his hands, his eyes wide-open, stone dead.” She shivered. “Mom had died when I was in sixth grade, of cancer. Dad loved her so much. He loved me, too.” She lifted her sad eyes. “I sup pose I’d rather have had him for a short time than not to have had him at all. Walter felt sorry for me and asked me to marry him, because I was so alone. He’d just lost the woman he loved and I think he wanted to marry me just to spite her. The ranch was a bonus. I was really infatuated with him at first, and he liked me and loved this ranch. I figured we had as good a chance of making a marriage work as people who were passionately in love.” She sighed again. “Isn’t hindsight wonderful?”

He leaned back in his chair and looked at her for a long time. “You’re a tonic,” he said abruptly. “You’re astringent and sometimes you sting, but I like being around you.”

“Thanks. I think,” she added.

“Oh, it’s a compliment,” he murmured. “I wouldn’t offer you anything except the truth.”

“That really is a compliment.”

“Glad you noticed.”

“What happened to the drunk cowboy?” she asked.

“Luke’s wife is getting him into a halfway house,” he mused. “A real crusader, that lady. She is a bleeding heart.”

“She likes lost causes,” she countered. “I’ve heard a lot about her, and I like what I’ve heard. If I can get this ranch back on its feet, I’d like to help her.”

“Another latent crusader,” he teased.

“A lot of people need saving, and there aren’t a lot of reformers around,” she pointed out.

“True enough.”

“Thanks for sending that other man over to keep a lookout. He’s very nice. Did you know that he likes to do needlepoint?” she asked matter-of-factly.

He nodded. “Nels does some exhibition-quality handwork. Nobody teases him about it, either. At least, not since he knocked Sid Turpen into the water trough.”

She chuckled. “He looked like that sort of man. I knit,” she said. “Not very well, but it gives me something to do when I’m by myself.”

“You’re always by yourself,” he said quietly. “Why don’t you come home with me one or two evenings a week and we can watch television after I’ve finished with the books. I could come and fetch you.”

Her heart jumped. She didn’t need telling that he’d never made that invitation to anyone else. He was like a wounded wolf in his lair most of the time. “Wouldn’t I be in the way?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I’m alone, too. You and the baby would be good company before and after he’s born. You don’t have a husband anymore. I don’t have a family,” he said bluntly. “I’d like to help you through the next few months. No strings,” he added firmly. “And absolutely no ulterior motives. Just friendship.”

She was touched. He made her feel welcome, warm and safe. She knew that a lot of people were intimidated by him, and that he was very standoffish. It was a huge compliment he was paying her. “Thanks,” she said genuinely. “I’ll take you up on that.”

He sipped his coffee and put the cup down. “It might be good for both of us to spend less time alone with the past.”

“Is that what you do, too, thinking about how it might have been, if…” She let the word trail away.

“If,” he agreed, nodding. “If I’d smelled the smoke sooner, if I’d gone to bed earlier, if I’d realized that Lopez might send someone after me even from prison…and so forth.”

“I kept thinking, what if I hadn’t got pregnant so soon after I married,” she confessed. “But I’m not sorry I did, really,” she added with a tiny smile. “I like it.”

He searched her dark eyes for longer than he wanted to and dragged his attention away. All at once, he glanced at his watch and grimaced. “Good Lord, I almost forgot! I’ve got a meeting at the bank this morning that I can’t miss—refinancing a loan so that I can replace my combine.” He got to his feet. “No other problems except for drunk cowboys in your bed?” he asked whimsically.

She glared at him. “Don’t look at me, I didn’t put him there!”

His eyes roamed over her and he smiled slowly. “His loss.”

“You get out of here, you fresh varmint,” she said, rising. “And there’s no use trying to seduce me, either. I’m immune.”

“Really?” he asked with raised eyebrows and a twinkle in his green eyes. “Shall we test that theory?” He took a step in her direction.

She flushed and backed up a step. “You stop that,” she muttered.

He chuckled as he reached for his hat. “Don’t retreat. I’ll keep to my side of the line in the sand. Keep that door locked,” he added then, and not with a smile. “I’m having you watched, just in case Lopez does try some thing. But if you need me, I’ll be as close as the telephone.”

“I know that. Thank you.”

“Your car has a busted water pump,” he added, surprising her that he remembered. “I’ll have one of my men come get it and overhaul it for you.”

She was all but gasping. “But, you don’t have to…!”

“I know I don’t have to,” he said, eyes flashing. “You can’t be stuck out here without transportation, especially now.”

She didn’t want to accept what she knew was charity, but the temptation to have her little red car fixed and running again was too much. She couldn’t afford an extra spark plug. “Thank you,” she said a little stiffly. It hurt her pride to know that he was aware of her financial situation.

He searched her face quietly. “No need for thanks. I’ll take care of you. And the baby.”

She stared at him while confusing sensations washed over her like a gentle electric current. She’d never felt such a surge of emotion, with anyone.

“I don’t have any ulterior motives, Lisa,” he said, speaking her name for the first time. It sounded soft, mysterious, even beautiful in his deep, measured tones.

“Then thanks, for seeing about my car,” she said gently. “And if you get sick, I’ll take care of you. All right?”

His heart ran wild. He’d never had anybody offer to look after him. His wife hadn’t been compassionate. It hit him right in the gut that Lisa thought of him with such kindness. He searched for an answer and couldn’t find one.

“I’m sure you never get sick,” she said quickly, a little intimidated by his scowl. “But just in case.”

He nodded slowly.

She smiled, reassured.

He turned and went out the door, speechless for the first time in recent memory. He couldn’t have managed a single word to save his life.

Lisa went onto the porch and watched him drive away with confused emotions. She shouldn’t let things intensify. She was a recent widow and he hadn’t been widowed all that long ago. People would gossip, if for no other reason than that Cy Parks was the town’s hermit. On the other hand, she was lonely and a little afraid. She remembered what Walt had told her about Manuel Lopez and the men who worked for him in the narcotics underworld. She knew what they did to people who sold them out. A shiver ran down her spine. They’d killed Walt and they might not stop until they wiped out his whole family—that was the reputation that Lopez had. She wasn’t going to put her baby at risk, regard less of what people thought. She touched her flat belly protectively.

She smiled. “I’m going to take such wonderful care of you.”

The smile remained when she thought how Cy would care about the baby, too. He wasn’t at all the sort of man he seemed on first acquaintance. But, then, who was? She went back inside to work in the kitchen, careful to make sure the doors were locked.

Cy used his cell phone to have a local wrecker service take Lisa’s small car over to his ranch, where he had one of his two mechanics waiting to fix it. Harley was good with machinery, but he had the mechanic do the work instead. For reasons he didn’t understand, he didn’t like having his good-looking foreman Harley around Lisa.

He went to the meeting with his banker and then on to Ebenezer Scott’s place, careful to phone ahead. There were men on the gate who didn’t like unexpected company and might react instinctively.

Eb met him at the front door, more relaxed than Cy had seen him in years.

“How’s it going?” he asked the newly married man.

Eb grinned. “Funny how nice a ball and chain can feel,” was all he said, but his eyes were twinkling with delight. “How’s it going on your end?”

“Let’s go inside,” Cy said. “I’ve found out a few things.”

Eb took him into the kitchen and poured coffee into mugs. “Sally’s teaching. I don’t usually do more than grab a sandwich for lunch…”

Cy held up a hand. “I haven’t got time, thanks. Listen, they’ve got the beehives on-site around that new warehouse on the land adjoining mine. There’s a lot more activity there, panel trucks coming and going and deliveries after dark. I’ve spotted a number of unfamiliar faces. They don’t look like beekeepers to me. Besides,” he added curtly, “I saw a couple of Uzis.”

“Automatic weapons at a honey plant,” Eb murmured thoughtfully. “They must have armed, militant bees.” He grinned at his own whimsy. “I’d hoped that Lopez might hesitate after his failed attempt on Sally’s family.” Sally, along with her aunt Jessica and Jessica’s young son, Stevie, were targeted for vengeance by the drug lord. Luckily Lopez hadn’t succeeded in his mission.

“We knew that Lopez had mentioned to one of his slimy followers that he needed a new distribution center. What better place than a little Texas town not far from the Gulf of Mexico, with no federal officers around?”

“He knows we’re around,” Cy pointed out.

“He only knows about me,” came the reply. “Nobody locally knows about you. And he thinks I won’t do any thing because he’s backed away from harming Sally’s family. He figures the two guys who are taking the fall for him will keep the wolves from his door.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I, but unless we can prove he’s channeling drugs instead of honey through here, we can’t do anything. Not anything legal,” he added slowly.

“I’m not going up against Uncle Sam,” Cy said firmly. “This isn’t the old days. I don’t fancy being an expatriated American.”

Eb sighed. “We’re older.”

“Older and less reckless. Let Micah Steele go after him. He lives in Nassau and has connections everywhere. He wouldn’t be afraid of getting kicked out of the States. He doesn’t spend much time here anyway.”

“His stepsister and his father live here,” Eb pointed out. “He isn’t going to want to put them in harm’s way.”

“From what I hear, his father hates him and his step sister would walk blocks out of her way to avoid even passing him on the street,” Cy said curtly. “Do you think he still cares about them?”

“Yes, I do. He came back with the express purpose of seeing his father and mending fences, but the old man refused to see him. It hurts him that his father won’t even speak to him. And I’ve seen the way he looks at Callie, even if you haven’t.”

“Then why does he live in Nassau?”

Eb glanced around warily. “He’s over here doing a job for me, so watch what you say,” he cautioned. “I don’t want him on the wrong side of me.”

Cy leaned back in his chair and sipped coffee. “I suppose we all have our crosses to bear.” He narrowed one eye at his oldest friend. “Do you think Lopez will make a try for Lisa?”

“It’s possible,” he said flatly. “Down in Mexico, a ‘mule’ crossed him. He killed the man’s whole family except for one small child.”

“That’s what I thought. I sent Nels Coleman over to her ranch to stay nights in the bunkhouse. He used to work for the Treasury Department back in the late seventies.”

“I know him. He’s a good man.”

“Yes, but not in Lopez’s class. Your guys are.”

Ebenezer nodded. “I have to have good people. The government and I are more than nodding acquaintances, and I run a high-tech operation here. I can’t afford to let my guard down, especially now that I’ve got Sally to think of.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had to consider a woman,” Cy replied, his green eyes quiet and thoughtful.

“Lisa Monroe is sweet,” Ebenezer said. “She’ll love that child to death.”

“She’s like that,” Cy agreed, smiling. “I wish she wasn’t so bullheaded. I went by to see her this morning and found her out in the barn, trying to pull a calf all by herself with her bare hands.”

Ebenezer chuckled. “I won’t turn your hair white by mentioning some of her other exploits, before she got pregnant.”

“This isn’t the first time she’s done something outlandish?”

“Let’s see.” Ebenezer pursed his lips, recalling gossip. “There was the time she stood in the path of a bulldozer that was about to take down the huge live oak in the square that a peace treaty with the Comanche was signed under. Then she chained herself to a cage in the humane society when they were going to put down half a dozen dogs without licenses.” He glanced at Cy. “The Tremayne brothers suddenly developed dog fever and between them, they adopted all six. Then there was the time she picketed the new chain restaurant because they refused to hire immigrants…”

“I get the idea,” Cy murmured dryly.

“We were all surprised when she married Walt. He was a real man’s man, but his job was like a religion to him. He didn’t want anything to tie him down so that he couldn’t advance in the agency. If he’d lived, that baby would have broken up the marriage for sure. Walt said often enough that he wasn’t sure he ever wanted children.” He shook his head. “He wasn’t much of a husband to her, at that. Most of us felt that he married her on the rebound from that model who dropped him. He felt sorry for Lisa when her dad died and she was left all alone. Even after the wedding, he flirted with every pretty woman he saw. Lisa went all quiet and stopped staying home when he was around. He wasn’t around much of that two months they were together, either. He volunteered for the undercover assignment the day they married. That shocked all of us, especially Lisa, and he got killed the same day he was introduced to Lopez.”

“They knew who he was,” Cy guessed.

“Exactly. And it was Walt’s first undercover assignment, to boot. The only reason Rodrigo hasn’t been discovered infiltrating Lopez’s distribution network is that he’s still a Mexican national and he has at least one cousin who’s been with Lopez for years. The cousin would never sell him out.”

“Lucky man,” Cy remarked. “I hope we don’t get him killed.”

“So do I,” Eb said with genuine concern. “Rodrigo’s been in the business for a lot of years and he’s the best undercover man I know. If anybody can help us put Lopez away for good, it’s him. But meanwhile, we have to keep Lisa safe.”

Cy went thoughtful. “She’s a kind soul.”

“Kind and naive,” Eb replied. “People take advantage of her. That baby will wrap her right around its finger when it’s born.”

“I love kids,” Cy said. “I miss mine.”

“Lisa will love hers,” came the quiet reply. “She’ll need a friend, and not only because of Lopez. She can’t run that ranch by herself. Walt was good with horses, and the men respected him. Lisa can’t keep managing those two cowboys who work part-time for her, and she can’t get a foreman because she hasn’t enough capital to pay the going rate. Besides all that, she doesn’t know beans about buying and selling cattle.”

“Didn’t her father teach her?”

“Not him,” Ebenezer chuckled. “He didn’t think women were smart enough to handle such things. He ran the ranch until the day he died. She was kept right out of it until then. Walt proposed to her at her father’s funeral and married her shortly after.”

“She loved her father, I gather.”

“Of course she did, and he loved her. But he was a nineteenth-century man. He would have fit right in after the Civil War.” He shook his head. “That ranch isn’t sol vent. Lisa’s going to lose it eventually. She needs to go ahead and put it on the market and get the best price she can.”

“I might see if she’ll sell to me. I could rent her the house and have my own men work the ranch.”

Ebenezer grinned. “Now, that’s constructive thinking.” He leaned forward, emptying his coffee cup. “As for those so-called beehives, I think we’d better send somebody over to have a quiet look after dark and see if there are really any bees in them.”

“Good idea. Then we can start making plans if it looks like Lopez is sending drugs through here.” Cy got to his feet. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“Anytime. Watch your back.”

Cy smiled. “I always do. See you.”

When Cy got home, Harley was out in the front yard having an animated conversation with a foreigner in an expensive pickup truck. He turned as Cy drove up in front of the house. He cut off the engine and eyed the newcomer’s vehicle with knowing eyes. Here was an opportunity not only to meet one of Lopez’s executives, but to throw them off the track about him, as well.

“Hey, boss, this is Rico Montoya,” he said with a grin. “He’s our new neighbor with the honey export business. He just dropped by to say hello.”

Sure he did, Cy thought, but he didn’t reply. He got out of the utility vehicle slowly and deliberately favored his left arm as he moved to the pickup truck.

“Glad to meet you, Mr. Montoya,” Cy said with a carefully neutral expression. “My men noticed the ware house going up.” He tried to look worried. “I don’t re ally like bees close to my purebred Santa Gerts,” he said without preamble. “I hope you’re going to make sure there aren’t any problems.”

The man’s eyebrows rose, surprised at Cy’s lack of antagonism. Surely the rancher knew who he was and whose orders he was following. Or did he? His dark eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Parks was holding his crippled left arm in his right and he had the look of some one who’d seen one tragedy too many. Lopez had been worried about interference from this rancher, but Montoya was certain there wouldn’t be any. This wasn’t an adversary to worry about. This was a defeated man, de spite his past. He relaxed and smiled at Cy. “You’re very straightforward,” he said with only a trace of an accent. He was wearing a silk suit and his thick hair was not only cut, but styled. There was a slight bulge under his jacket. “You have nothing to fear from our enterprise,” he assured Cy. “We will be meticulous about our operation. Your cattle will be in no danger. I give you my word.”

Cy stared quietly at the other man and nodded, as if convinced. Near him, Harley was gaping at the lack of antagonism that Mr. Parks showed to most visitors. It wasn’t like him to favor that burned arm, either.

“I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Parks,” Montoya said with a grin. “I hope that we will be good neighbors.”

“Thank you for taking the time to stop by and introduce yourself,” Cy said with a noticeable lack of animation. He got a firmer grip on his injured arm. “We don’t get many visitors.”

“It was my pleasure. Good day, señor.” Montoya smiled again, this time with faint contempt, and pulled his truck out of the driveway. Cy watched him go, arrow-straight, his mouth making a firm line in his lean, taut face.

“Mr. Parks, you are the oddest man I know,” Harley said, shaking his head. “You weren’t yourself at all.”

Cy turned to him. “Who do you think that was?”

“Why, our new neighbor,” Harley said carelessly. “Nice of him to come over and say howdy,” he added with a scowl. “Your arm bothering you?”

“Not in the least,” Cy said, both hands on his lean hips as he studied the younger man. “What did you notice about our new hardworking neighbor?”

The question surprised Harley. “Well, he was Latin. He had a bit of an accent. And he was real pleasant…”

“He was wearing a silk suit and a Rolex watch,” he said flatly. “The truck he was driving is next year’s model, custom. He was wearing boots that cost more than my new yearling bull. And you think he makes that kind of money selling honey, do you?”

Harley’s eyes widened. Once in a while, his boss threw him a curve. This was a damned big curve. He frowned. How had Cy noticed so much about a man he only saw for a minute or two when Harley, a trained commando he reminded himself, hadn’t?

“That was one of Lopez’s executives,” Cy told the younger man flatly, nodding at his wide-eyed realization. “I want you to go work cattle over near that warehouse and take a pair of binoculars with you,” Cy told his foreman. “Don’t be obvious, but see who comes and goes for a few days.”

“Sir?”

“You told Eb you wanted to help keep an eye on Lopez’s operation. Here’s your chance.”

“Oh, I see, Mr. Scott told you to send me out there.” Harley grinned from ear to ear. “Sure. I’ll be glad to do it!”

“Just make sure you aren’t caught spying,” Cy told him flatly. “These people are killers. They won’t hesitate if they think they’re being watched deliberately.”

“I can handle myself,” Harley said with faint mockery.

“Yes, I know, you’re professionally trained,” Cy drawled.

The tone made Harley feel uncertain. But he put it down to jealousy and grinned. “I know how to watch people without getting noticed,” he assured his boss. “Does Mr. Scott want tag numbers as well as descriptions of the people?”

“Yes, and pay attention to the trucks that come in.”

“Okay.”

Cy wanted to add more to those instructions, but he didn’t want Harley to know everything. “Be sure you keep your mouth shut about this,” he told Harley. “Eb won’t like it if he thinks you’re gossiping.”

“I wouldn’t want him mad at me!” Harley chuckled. “I’ll keep quiet.”

“See that you do.”

Cy walked back to the house with a quick, sharp stride that reflected his anger. He’d just met a new link in Lopez’s chain, probably one of his divisional managers. It would work to his advantage that he had just convinced the drug lord’s associate that he was a crippled rancher with no interest in the bees except where his cattle were concerned.

Lopez thought he had it made with his “honey business” as a blind, here in little Jacobsville. But Cy was going to put a stick in his spokes, and the sooner, the better.