Читать книгу The Outsider's Redemption - Joanna Wayne - Страница 14

A half hour later Cody turned off the nearly deserted asphalt road and pulled onto a completely deserted dirt one. It was too dark to see anything except sporadic clusters of brush that bordered the road and an occasional stubby tree.

The antacid tablets had eased the stomach discomfort and her head no longer ached from the blow she’d received earlier that day. She was tough, always had been. It was only her petite size that fooled people, but she couldn’t deny that a bed would feel really good about now. They hit a hole, and she grabbed hold of the armrest to keep from falling over onto Cody. “Is this the most desolate place you can find?”

“On short notice.” Apprehension set her stomach rolling again. “You said we were going to look for a place to spend the night. You surely don’t expect to find a motel down this lousy excuse for a road.”

“Not a motel, but the sign back there said there’s a fishing camp down here with rustic cabins.”

“I don’t doubt the rustic part.”

“It won’t be the Holiday Inn, but we shouldn’t have to worry about anyone finding us down here.”

“That sounds as if you think someone is still looking.”

“I haven’t spotted anyone who looked even vaguely suspicious since we left the restaurant, but I don’t take chances unless I have to.”

She put her hand to her mouth, almost catching the end of her fingernail between her teeth before she jerked it away. It was no time to show weakness. “Mr. Austin failed to mention that delivery of the files would be this dangerous.”

“Would it have made a difference?”

She considered the question. “It might have. I wouldn’t have worried about myself so much, but I have my unborn child to consider.”

“Now’s a fine time to think about that.”

His attitude annoyed her. “Don’t you ever take risks, Cody Gannon?”

“All the time.” He nudged his Stetson back a notch, and a sprinkling of dark, wavy hair peeked out from under the edge of the hat. “I just don’t want tonight to be one of them.”

“That makes two of us.”

SARAH LEANED against the doorframe of the small office while Cody registered them as Mr. and Mrs. Carpenter. He paid the bill for one night’s lodging in advance—in cash.

She lost track of the conversation, as the middle-aged woman who’d introduced herself as the owner drawled on, more nosy than she had a right to be. Instead Sarah shuffled through memories, searching for something pleasant to latch on to.

A morning five months ago when she’d stood in Dr. Marino’s office and he’d told her that the test she’d taken at home had been accurate. She was carrying a new life inside her. The events that followed played in her mind, turning sour when she got to the point where she delivered the news to Todd.

“You don’t look so good.”

She jumped at the voice. The woman had walked over to stand beside her. “I ate some spicy food,” Sarah answered, looking away from the woman’s appraising stare. “I took a couple of antacid tablets. I’ll be fine. I just need a bed.”

“Hmmmph. I’d say you need a sight more than that.” The woman’s gaze traveled from Sarah’s swollen nose to the dried bloodstain on the front of her clothes. Then she looked back at Cody, disgust twisting her mouth and narrowing her eyes.

It took Sarah a few seconds to decipher her meaning. The woman believed that Cody had hit her. “This isn’t what it seems,” Sarah assured her and then wondered why she bothered. It was clear from the woman’s patronizing smile that she didn’t believe her.

The woman laid a hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “I’ll be working until nine. If you need anything, just call me.” Her gaze shifted to Cody and then back again. “And you don’t have to put up with anything as long as you’re staying in one of my cabins. I have a night watchman on duty. He’s tough as a wild coyote. Nobody scares him.”

Sarah looked up to find Cody doing his own impression of a big, tough Texan behind the woman’s back. Any other time, she’d have had to laugh. Even now, she managed a smile. “If I need you, or the night watchman, I’ll definitely call.”

The woman stood in the door and watched them as they left the office and walked back to the truck. The cabin she’d assigned them was at the end of the road, set off by itself.

“That’s the first time I’ve been accused of being a wife beater,” Cody said, as he took her elbow and guided her around a rut in the path.

“She didn’t accuse you.”

“Oh, no? If looks could kill, I’d be waiting on morgue pick-up right now.”

“As it is, you better walk a thin, straight line or I’ll have her sic the night watchman on you.”

“She’s probably calling him right now, to put him on alert so he can start flexing his big, tough muscles. Of course, once he finds out its a looker he’s to protect, he might flex a new muscle. Then you’d be wishing you had me back.”

“Or maybe not. I haven’t seen the big, tough watchman yet.” But his comment stayed with her. Cody saw her as attractive. Interesting, especially since most of the time he treated her as if she had something contagious.

The night watchman stepped into the clearing surrounding the office just as they reached the truck. The woman hadn’t lied. The man was big, at least a head taller than Cody with muscles a body builder would have envied. A gun rested in a holster at his waist but it was the chainsaw he held in his hand that sent shivers up Sarah’s spine.

“It’s almost dark. Why would he be chopping down trees this time of night?” she asked.

Cody opened the truck door for her. “He’s probably cutting some logs into firewood.”

“Hmm. Does chainsaw massacre have any meaning for you?”

“It didn’t. It does now.” He touched a hand to her arm. “But don’t worry. You have a cowboy to protect you. You know, so many cowboys, so little time.”

“You against the machismo guard dog. Now I feel so much better.”

SARAH STEPPED inside the cabin. It was one room, with a sink, range, table and four chairs on one end and a bed, chest and upholstered chair on the other. An open door led to a closet-sized bathroom. The mattress was lumpy, narrow, topped with a faded spread and two pillows that had lost their fluff years ago. Still, it had been an extremely long and eventful day, and she couldn’t remember when a bed had looked so inviting.

Cody reached to take her coat from around her shoulders. She held on to it for a second, then relinquished it. If she made too much of a fuss, he’d figure out why she never let it out of her sight.

Cody hung up the coat and then walked over to stand beside her. “Now that we’ve settled for the night, you should give your doctor a call.”

“If it will make you happy. But I’m fine.” She called the after-hours number and left a message for her gynecologist to call her back. Then she slipped out of her shoes and stretched out on the bed. “My mother always said that the best thing for a queasy stomach is to lie very still and think pleasant thoughts.”

“Yeah, well my mother always gave me a cold, wet cloth for my head. We weren’t big on pleasant thoughts around my house.”

He walked away and came back a few moments later with a damp cloth. The bed shifted as he sat down on the edge of it and pressed the thin washcloth against her forehead. She stared up at him, studying his expression. The worry was evident. She wondered if it was really for her.

“Why don’t you crawl under the covers and get comfortable,” he said. “If you need anything, I’ll be right here.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve said since you met me at the airport.” She closed her eyes. Actually, promising to be there for her might be the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her, she decided, as she took his suggestion and snuggled between the sheets.

Too bad the emotion stemmed from the fact that he was being paid to deliver her and the disk. Both of them had to be kept safe and sound until they were turned over to Daniel Austin. Then his duties would be fulfilled, and he’d no longer be there if she needed anything.

Neither would anyone else.

CODY PACED the motel room. The air conditioner hadn’t stopped running since they’d come in, nearly an hour ago, but still the air was sultry and suffocating. He hated being cooped up in this one-room cabin, hated more that this operation had gone wrong. Beginning with the moment Sarah Rand had stepped off that airplane—pregnant.

He glanced at her sleeping form, her blond hair all mussed and spreading over the pillow, the rounding of her stomach beneath the sheets. The cloth he’d given her had been tossed aside, the corner of it dangling from the edge of the honey-colored nightstand. He picked it up and carried it into the cubbyhole of a bathroom.

A cold, wet cloth. That was the extent of what he knew about tending an upset stomach. Sarah, on the other hand, appeared to know what to do for every ailment. From bumps on the head to indigestion, she was a walking medical encyclopedia.

Amazingly enough, Dr. Marino had backed her up when he’d called, said that if she was having no further complications, rest was probably the best thing for her. But, if she became sick to her stomach again or developed a lasting headache, she was to see a doctor at once.

A rectangle of fading light found its way through the narrow window at the back of the cabin and caught Sarah in its glow. Cody stared at her for a minute, then swallowed hard. The woman might look all sweet and innocent when she was asleep, but the images were totally deceptive. She was a woman willing to sell out to the devil himself for cold hard cash.

And if ever there was a devil walking around in a man’s body it was Tomaso Calderone. Murdering innocent people came as easily to him as swatting a mosquito did to most folks. Only he seldom did the killing himself. He paraded around his palatial estate wearing designer clothes and partying with a bevy of beautiful women while his paid assassins did whatever it took to keep the drugs rolling into the States and the money rolling into his bank account.

Anything for money. Calderone and Sarah Rand had a lot in common.

The pager at his waist vibrated. He pulled it loose and cradled it in his hand while he checked the number. More bad luck. It was the number to the office phone at the Smoking Barrel.

He crossed the room and stopped at the window. It looked out on the back of the building. A narrow river meandered a few yards away. Beyond that, the land stretched into thorny brush, a few scrubby trees and a line of ever-present barbwire.

Moonlight painted them in shadows and whispers of silver, a magical touch that contradicted the ruggedness of the land. He’d lived in Texas all his life, wandered from one part to the other, found work where he could, staying in one place only until the need to move on would hit again. That had never taken long, not until he’d arrived at the Smoking Barrel.

He exhaled sharply and moved away from the window. The Smoking Barrel was part of his past. It held nothing for him and he had no desire to hear anything Mitchell Forbes had to say. He hoped the man didn’t hold his breath waiting for him to return the page.

Determined and weary, he strode back to the door. He needed to move the truck out of sight, park it beyond the patch of thick brush. His job was to keep Sarah Rand safe until the disk was delivered into Daniel’s hand, and he never quit on a job until it was finished. But once it was, he planned to get as far away from Texas and the Smoking Barrel as he could.

Montana sounded good to him. So did Alaska. Muscles tight and drawn, he opened the door. It creaked and groaned, but Sarah didn’t move a muscle. Just as well. This might be the last night she slept in a bed without bars around it.

The thought burned in his brain and pulverized his will. He wanted to see Calderone brought down more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life, but he hadn’t bargained for this.

“CODY.”

He jumped, his head flying from the back of the chair as he reached for the lamp switch. “What’s wrong?” The grogginess of sleep cracked his voice.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wondered if you were still here.”

“I’m here.” He pushed up his sleeve and checked his watch. Only eleven-thirty, but it seemed much later. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. I told you all I needed was some rest. Getting out of that bouncing truck didn’t hurt either.” She pushed up on her elbows. The sheet fell from her shoulders, and he realized with a jolt that between the time he’d fallen asleep and now, she’d crawled out of most of her clothes, including her bra. The silky border of her slip dipped low, and her nipples were outlined against the revealing fabric.

She’s not only pregnant with another man’s baby but she’s a rotten mercenary, he reminded himself, hoping his body was listening.

Apparently noticing the direction of his gaze, Sarah grabbed the sheet and pulled it up to her neck. “How well do you know Daniel Austin, Cody?”

“Well enough.”

“That’s a nonstatement if I ever heard one. What did he tell you about me?”

“Not much.” Not that she was pregnant or that she was almost as good at disguises as Dan himself. Her ability to appear innocent was messing with his mind and he knew better. “He said you were bringing some files that he wanted and that I was to make sure you and the disk arrived safely.”

“Why didn’t he meet me at the airport himself?”

“I couldn’t say.”

She sat up straight and stared at him, her pink lips all pouty. “I just don’t get it, Cody. Are you always this curt, or do you just not like me?”

Cody hesitated. Any answer he gave would have to be an out-and-out lie or else give too much away. She had to believe that both he and Austin were working for Calderone now.

“It’s the situation that’s making me edgy,” he finally answered. “Not you.” He walked to the sink for a glass of water. On second thought, he filled two of the glasses with water from the tap. He walked back to the bed and handed one to Sarah.

“Is this a peace offering?” she asked, taking the glass from his hands.

“You could call it that.”

“Then I accept.”

She drank heartily, no sissy sipping. If he’d met her anywhere else but under the present circumstances, he’d have sworn she didn’t possess an ounce of pretense. But then he would have sworn the same about Mitchell Forbes before he found out differently.

“So tell me, Sarah, what do you plan to do once you deliver the disk to Daniel Austin?”

“Go back to work and save all the money I can. I have insurance to pay the hospital and doctor expenses, but I want to stay home for at least six months so that I can bond with my child. I think that’s important, don’t you? I mean those early months are crucial in an infant’s development.”

“I don’t know much about infants,” he admitted. “But it makes sense that a baby would like to have its own mother around while he’s adjusting to the world. I doubt my mother had that option, though, and I grew up just fine.”

“You grew up kind of grouchy,” she corrected him, “with a serious lack of social skills. Anyway, you said he, and I think my baby’s a girl.”

“Is that what your doctor said?”

“No, but I’m good at predicting things. You know, it’s like I see them before they happen. And every time I think of my baby, I picture her dressed in a dainty pink dress with little pink booties and a lacy bonnet. In fact, I’m so sure that I already bought the bonnet.”

Cody turned away. He was seeing things, too, and they stuck in his throat so that he could barely swallow. The image was of Sarah in a prison-gray uniform, her shiny blond hair cut short and stuffed under a cap while she slaved away in a prison laundry. But she must really take him for a fool, talking about saving money when she’d struck a million-dollar deal with Dan.