Читать книгу Wyoming Cowboy Ranger - Nicole Helm - Страница 11

Saturday evenings at Delaney General were always fairly busy. During the week Jen’s crowd was minimal and usually the browsing kind. Weekends were more frantic—trips to grab what had been forgotten over the week. A twelve-pack of beer, sauce for spaghetti already on the stove and, in the case of one nervous young gentleman, a box of condoms.

She’d made one joke about telling his mother. He’d scurried away, beet red. There was some joy in living in a small town. Jim Bufford hefted a twenty-four-pack of her cheapest beer onto the checkout counter and grinned at her, flashing his missing bottom tooth. “Care to drink dinner with me, darling?”

“Hmm,” she replied, pulling the case over the scanner. Jim had been making this particular offer since she’d turned twenty. Since he made it to just about every female who’d ever worked in Delaney General, she didn’t take it personally. “Some other night, Jim. Got my nose to the grindstone here.”

He handed over a wad of wrinkled bills and tutted while she made change. “Young pretty thing shouldn’t work so hard.”

“And a nice man like you shouldn’t drink his dinner.” She handed him his change and he hefted the case off the counter.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, offering a half-hearted goodbye as he pushed open the door and stepped out. Just a few seconds later the bell on the door tinkled again and someone stepped inside.

She didn’t recognize this customer. He wore his cowboy hat low, obscuring most of his face. Still, she could usually recognize her regulars by size, clothes, posture and so on. This was a stranger.

She remembered Ty’s words from earlier and an icy dread skittered up her spine, but she smiled. “Good evening.”

“Evening,” the man returned, a pleasant smile of his own. She couldn’t see his eyes, but his smile wasn’t off-putting. He was wearing what appeared to be hiking gear and had a fancy-looking camera hanging from his neck. “I don’t suppose you carry film?” He lifted the camera and his smile turned sheepish.

“Afraid not.”

He sighed. “Didn’t expect to use so much. You’ve got a fascinating town here, ma’am.”

“We like to think so.” She kept her smile in place. The man was perfectly polite. No different from any other stranger who walked into her store looking for provisions of any kind.

Her palms were sweaty, though, and her heart beat too hard. It was only her and him in the store right now, and Ty had warned her about strangers.

And you’re going to trust Ty Carson on anything? No. No, she wasn’t, but... Well, there’d been too much trouble lately not to heed his warning. So, she’d be smart. Do what her deputy sister would do in this situation: pay attention to details. The man was tall, maybe around her brother Cam’s height. But not broad. He had narrow shoulders, though the way he walked exuded a kind of strength. Like a runner, she supposed. Slim, but athletic. She couldn’t determine the exact shade of his hair because of the way the hat was positioned and the way he was angled away from her, but it wasn’t dark hair.

“I don’t have film, but I’ve got food and drinks or anything else you might need.” She smiled at him, but he still didn’t look her way. He examined the store.

“Actually I stopped because I was wondering if you’d mind if I took a few pictures of your store.”

“I thought you were out of film.”

“I am, which is a shame. But I use my phone for pictures, too. I was using film out here because the ambiance seemed to call for it. I was over at the saloon. I hear the swinging doors are original.”

“So they claim,” Jen muttered, irritably thinking of Ty.

“Amazing.” He meandered over to a row of candy, studied the offerings. “I took way too many pictures. And the boardwalks. The signs. It’s like stepping back in time. I’ve been mostly sticking to ghost towns but the mix of past and present here... It’s irresistible.”

“So you were out at Cain, then?” she asked, referencing a popular ghost town destination for photographers and adventurers.

He nodded, still keeping his head tilted away from her. “That’s what brought me out this way.”

“From where?”

He chuckled. “You ask every stranger where they’re from?”

She had to work to keep the pleasant smile on her face. She couldn’t blow this. “Tend to. We don’t get many outsiders.”

“Ah. Outsiders. Must be nice to live in a community that protects itself against outsiders. You’d feel...safe. Protected and cared for.”

She hadn’t felt particularly safe after the craziness of the past year, but she decided to agree anyway. “Very.”

He swayed on his feet, trying to brace himself on the shelf and upending some candy before he fell backward onto the floor.

Stunned, Jen rushed forward, but he was already struggling to sit up.

“I’m all right,” he said, holding out a hand to keep her back. “Just haven’t eaten since breakfast. Got caught up, and I suppose the lack of food caught up with me. I’ll be all right.”

She grabbed one of the candy bars that had fallen to the ground and ripped it open before she handed it to him. She didn’t think he’d gotten caught up. She was starting to think he didn’t have any money. She almost felt sorry for him. “Here. Don’t worry about paying for it. Just eat.”

He took the candy, and then a bite. “You’re too kind.” He looked up for a second.

Blue eyes. A vibrant blue. Blond hair, wispy and nearly white really. Not with age, just a very, very light shade of blond. His nose was crooked. To the left.

“Didn’t expect to run across someone so young and pretty in a tiny little Wyoming town.”

“Uh—”

“Sorry.” He looked back down at the candy bar, the brim of his hat hiding everything again. “That’s awkward and uncomfortable. Let’s blame it on the lack of food. Do you think I could trouble you for a small sip of water?”

Jen jumped to her feet and hurried for the cooler that boasted rows of water bottles. She grabbed one of the larger ones and twisted it open. “Here,” she said, returning to his side. “You just take this.”

He took a sip and then nodded, using the back of his arm to wipe the water droplets off his mouth. He kept his head down.

Was it purposeful? Was he trying to make sure she couldn’t identify him? Was he planning something awful? But she’d seen his eyes and the color of his hair—she only had to remember the details.

He took another bite of the candy bar, then a drink of the water. She racked her brain trying to figure out what to do. How to defend herself if he lunged at her. This could all be an act. A ploy. Weaken her defenses, catch her off guard.

Carefully, Jen leaned slightly away and got to her feet, keeping her eyes on him and her body tense and ready to react.

“Thank you for the kindness,” he said, sounding exhausted. But it could be acting. “I should be out of your way.” He struggled to his feet, swayed again, but righted himself.

He seemed so genuinely thankful and feeble. The man was a mess, and maybe he was Ty’s threatening stranger, but he wasn’t doing anything to put her in danger at the moment.

And why would he? He was probably just after Ty. How could she blame anyone on that front?

“Can I get you anything else? Maybe a sandwich? A bag of chips?” His clear weakness ate at her. A man shouldn’t go hungry. Though, she supposed, he could sell that nice camera if he was really that bad off.

“No. No, I’ll be fine.” He kept his head tilted away, but the corner of his smile was soft and kind as he lifted the water bottle in salute. “I appreciate it, ma’am. Your kindness won’t be forgotten.” And with that, he walked out of the store. No trouble. No danger.

Leaving Jen unsure about what to do.

* * *

TY DIDN’T OFTEN find himself uncomfortable. He’d learned early to roll with whatever punches life threw at him. There’d been quite a few.

But nothing could have prepared him for a baby shower. A Carson-Delaney baby shower. Laurel and Vanessa were laughing over their baby bumps, pastel pink and blue decorations everywhere, and Carsons and Delaneys mingled like there’d never been a feud.

Jen was in a corner talking to Addie and Noah, Addie’s toddler trying to crawl up Noah and laughing hysterically when he fell. Noah watched with the patience of a happy man.

Ty had never particularly understood his brother, though he loved him with a fierceness that meant he’d lay down his life for the man. What he did know about Noah was that having Addie and Seth in his life and on his ranch made him happy, and that was all Ty really cared about.

“Delaney Delirium getting to you?”

Ty gave Grady a cool look. “Just trying to understand all this baby business,” he said, nodding toward Noah and the way he held Seth easily on his hip.

Grady patted him on the back. Hard. “Sure, buddy.”

“You really want to be a dad after the way we grew up?” Ty asked, unable to stop himself. He didn’t get it. The way Noah had taken to Addie’s nephew that she was guardian and mother to, as if it were easy to step into the role of guardian and father. The way Vanessa and Grady seemed calm and even happy about their impending parenthood.

The Carson generation before theirs had not been a particular parental one. More fists and threats than nurturing happiness.

“Figure I got a pretty good example of what not to do,” Grady said with a shrug. “And a woman to knock some sense into me when I make mistakes. Besides, we turned out okay in spite of it all.”

“And Delaney senior ain’t got a problem with his grandchild being raised by a cop and saloon owner?”

“Laurel’s father doesn’t get a say.”

Ty knew it was different for Grady. Ty had been eighteen when Mr. Delaney had flexed his parental and town muscles to make sure Ty got the hell away from his daughter. Grady wasn’t a dumb teenager, and neither was Laurel. They could refuse a parent’s interference.

Couldn’t you have?

He shook his head. Ancient history. No amount of Carson and Delaney comingling was reason to go back there.

Laurel called Grady over and he left Ty in the middle of all this goodwill and pastel baby nonsense. He was somewhere in no-man’s land. He almost wished a sniper would take him out.

There were toasts and cake and presents of tiny clothes and board books. No matter that their families had been enemies for over a century, no matter that people in town still whispered about curses and the inevitable terrible ends they would all meet, Carsons and Delaneys sat together celebrating new lives.

Some unknown ache spread through him. He couldn’t name it, and he couldn’t seem to force it away. It sat in his gut, throbbing out to all his limbs.

Faking his best smile, he went to Vanessa and Grady and made his half-hearted excuses to leave early. No one stopped him, but his family sure watched him slip out the front door. He could feel their eyes, their questions. And worst of all, their pity.

As if being alone was the worst fate a person could face. He’d seen a lot worse. This was fine. And good. Right for him. Alone suited—

“Ty.”

There was something his gut did when she said his name. No matter the years, he couldn’t seem to control that intrinsic physical reaction to his name forming on her lips. A softening. A longing.

He took a minute to brace himself before he turned around. Jen stood on the porch of Grady and Laurel’s cabin. She looked like cotton candy in some lacy, frothy pink thing.

And all too viscerally he could remember what she looked like completely unclothed. No matter that he assured himself time changed things—bodies, minds, hearts. It was hard to remember as she approached him with a face that wasn’t shooting daggers at him for the first time since he’d arrived home.

“Listen.” She looked back at the open door, then took a few more steps toward him on the walk. “I wanted to let you know I had a stranger come in the store last night.”

“What?” he demanded, fury easily taking over the ache inside him. Last night? “Why didn’t you call me? I told you—”

She lifted her chin, her eyes cold as ice. “You told me to let you know. Here I am, letting you know. I don’t think he’s whatever you’re looking for. He was perfectly nice. He just asked to take pictures of the store, and then he—”

“What time did he come in?”

“Well, seven but—”

“He was going to take pictures when it was pitch-black?”

She frowned at that, a line forming between her brows that once upon a time he’d loved tracing with his thumb. Where had that memory come from?

“He was hungry. He fainted. He was out of it. Confused maybe. And totally polite and harmless.”

“Damn it, Jen. I told you to call me. I could have—”

“He didn’t do anything. I know you’re paranoid, but—”

“I am not paranoid. You think a man who gets a letter with no postage delivered to where he lives and works is paranoid?”

She tilted her head, studying him, and he realized with a start he’d said too much.

He never said too much.

“What was in the letter?” she asked, her voice calm and her eyes on him.

It was hell, this. Still wanting her. Missing that old tiny slice of his life where she’d been his. He didn’t want this, but he couldn’t seem to get rid of it. It ate at him, had him dreaming about doing things he couldn’t possibly allow himself to do. Every once in a while he’d think...what would just one touch do?

But he knew the answer to that.

She audibly swallowed and looked away, a faint blush staining her cheeks. She felt it, too, and yet...

“It doesn’t matter,” he grumbled, trying to find his usual center of calm. His normal, everyday clear-eyed view of the world and of this problem he had. “What did he look like? Better yet—I want to see your security tape.”

Her eyes flashed anger and frustration. “You are not looking at my security tape.”

“Why not?”

“It’s an invasion of my customers’ privacy.”

He snorted. “I don’t care that Mary Lynn Jones bought a pack of Marlboros even though her husband thinks she quit or that little Adam Teller was buying condoms because he talked his way into Lizzie Granger’s pants.”

Jen’s mouth twitched, but then she firmed it into a scowl. “How do you know all that?”

“I pay attention, babe.”

Her scowl deepened and she folded her arms across her chest. “Blond hair, blue eyes. About the same height as Cam. I’m not sure what that’d be in feet and inches, but I imagine you would. Skinny, but strong, like a marathon runner. He wore hiking clothes and boots, all in tan, and a big, fancy camera around his neck. Topped it off with a Stetson. Said he was taking pictures of ghost towns and happened upon Bent.”

It was more to go on than he thought he’d get out of her, but still not enough to ring any bells. “Tattoos? Scars? Something off about him?”

She shook her head. “Not that I could see.”

“I want the tape, Jen. If someone is...” He didn’t want to tell her. Didn’t trust her to keep it a secret and let him handle it, but he needed to see the man himself. Needed to identify him so he could neutralize this threat. “I’m getting letters. They’re not threatening exactly, but they’re not...not. I know you don’t care about me, but your family is all tangled up with mine now.” He gestured at the whole irritating lot of them. “Don’t you want to protect what’s yours?”

“Of course I do.”

That sharp chin of hers came up, defiant and angry. Her temper used to amuse him. Now it just made that ache center in his heart.

But that wasn’t the problem at hand. “Then let me see the tape. If I recognize him, I’ll know what to do. If I don’t, then maybe you’re right and it’s harmless coincidence.” He didn’t believe that, but he’d let her think he did.

She was quiet and stiff for humming seconds, then finally she sighed. “Oh, fine. I suppose you want to go now?”

He only raised an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes. “Let me get my purse and say my goodbyes.” She stalked back inside, grumbling about irritating, stubborn males the whole way up.

All Ty could do was pray he’d recognize whoever was on that tape and everything would be over.

* * *

JEN STEPPED OUT of her tiny little sedan, dressed all in pink, her dark hair in pretty waves around her shoulders.

Sweet. Just like Ty had said. She’d been wary of him last night when he’d first walked into the store. He’d seen it in her eyes, but the feigned hunger and stumble had softened her. She’d given him food and water. Good-hearted, she was indeed.

He smiled, watching as Jen stood there in front of her store. When a motorcycle roared into view, his smile died.

Even before the man took off his helmet, he knew who it was. He watched Jen. She didn’t seem happy to see Ty, but nor did she seem surprised or unhappy.

He scowled, watching as Ty strode over to Jen. They exchanged a few words and then Jen unlocked the store and stepped inside, Ty right behind her.

She didn’t flip the sign from Closed to Open.

He narrowed his eyes. The rage that slammed into him was sudden and violent, but he’d learned a thing or two about how to handle it. Hone it.

Ty would get his. He would.

So, patience would be the name of the game. And another letter.

This time in blood.