Название: The Lawman's Noelle
Автор: Stella Bagwell
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781472048950
isbn:
Eventually, she spotted a cattle guard up ahead. As she drove closer, she could see it was flanked on either side with rock pillars. A sign that simply read Silver Horn swung from an arch of metal pipe spanning the entrance. She steered the truck over the metal ridges and hoped the ranch house wasn’t far off.
Another fifteen minutes passed before Noelle finally caught a glimpse of lights on a far-off hill. When Evan had told her it was a long drive from town to his place, he hadn’t been exaggerating. But that hardly mattered now. In a few minutes, she’d finally be rid of Detective Calhoun. The idea left her torn between extreme relief and unexplainable sadness.
* * *
Someone was beating the side of his head with a hammer. Evan fought as hard as he could to defend himself until the nightmare eventually had him bolting forward in the seat, causing the seat belt to latch tight against his throat.
“What the hell?” he muttered as he struggled to thrust the nylon strap away.
“You were having a dream. You’re okay.”
The feminine voice was strong and steady and enough to break through the last vestiges of the disturbing dream.
He opened his eyes and looked at her. Suddenly everything came rushing back to him. “Oh. It’s you. Noelle.”
“That’s right. You’ve been asleep. But I think you’re almost home now.”
Wiping a hand over his eyes, he drew in a long breath and scooted up in the seat. Ahead of them, he could see the tall pines and poplar trees lining the driveway to the Silver Horn ranch house. For a few moments today, after Noelle had found him in the gulch, he’d wondered if he would ever see this place or his family again. But now that he realized he was going to live, he dreaded the berating he would surely get from his grandfather Bart Calhoun.
Realizing the truck was slowing, Evan glanced over to see Noelle gazing past the trees to the three-story brick house and the blaze of Christmas lights decorating its face, the lawn and the long walkway.
“This is where you live?”
“Ever since I was born,” he answered easily. “Why? Is anything wrong?”
She turned her attention away from the house and back to the circular driveway. “No. I’m relieved that I didn’t make a wrong turn and you’re finally home.”
He said, “Just park at the end of the sidewalk and I can make it the rest of the way.”
She stopped the truck at the walk lined with low-growing juniper bushes. The evergreens were threaded with tiny, twinkling lights, turning the walkway into a dazzling trail.
“I’d be honored if you’d come in and meet my family,” he said. “Greta, our cook, will have leftovers from dinner. After everything I’ve put you through today, you must be hungry.”
Her tight hold on the steering wheel never lessened. “No thanks,” she said bluntly. “I have to be getting home.”
Even though the effort caused the gash in his head to hurt, he attempted to smile. “I promise I’m the only lawman that lives here. The rest make their living off cattle and horses.”
Clearly not finding his remark amusing, she stared straight ahead. “I’m sure your folks are fine people. But I have chores waiting on me.”
For some reason, the thought of her going back to that windswept hill and modest little house struck him hard. There wasn’t much there but a barn full of hay, a handful of horses and a small herd of cattle. Why had she chosen such a hard, isolated life for herself? he wondered.
That’s none of your business, Evan. And she clearly isn’t about to let it become your business. So forget it and let her be on her way.
He reached over to shake her hand. She dropped the steering wheel long enough to oblige him. Her grip was strong, but brief.
“Well, thank you for all your trouble, Noelle. I can truly say I’d rather we met under different circumstances, but I’m very grateful you came along when you did.”
“Forget it,” she said curtly, then looked at him. “You never did say what you were doing out there riding in the hills. It had to be more than following four-wheeler tracks. Don’t you think I have a right to know?”
“Actually, you should know. A few weeks ago, a body was discovered just a few miles from your place. I was following up on some leads regarding that case.”
Her brows lifted slightly. “I read about it in the newspaper. But I didn’t think it was that close—and the article didn’t say anything about it being a homicide.”
“I’m not saying it was a homicide, either. That detail hasn’t been determined yet. But it’s a fact that gangs sometimes meet out in the area not far from your property. To avoid the law coming down on them, we think. Have you ever seen anything suspicious? Especially around the dry gulch where you found me?”
“No. Never. Sometimes when the weather is nice, there might be a few teenagers sitting around smoking and drinking beer. Not far off the county road, on the property next to mine, there’s a rock formation with a cave beneath. The kids use it as a place to hang out.”
Feeling the need to caution her, he said, “Those might not be innocent teenagers, Noelle.”
She turned a hard look on him. “I might’ve known you’d say something like that. A group of kids, cigarettes and beer. That instantly makes them gang members, thieves or murderers, doesn’t it?”
There was more than sarcasm in her voice. There was downright anger. Her reaction made him wonder whether, as a teenager, she’d been targeted by the law. Though the notion hardly seemed likely, it was clear that something had hardened her toward police officers.
“No. I’m only saying it would be wise of you to use caution. A woman alone is—”
“No different than a man alone,” she finished briskly. “Now, do you think you can get to the door under your own steam or do I need to help you?”
In his line of work, Evan was used to dealing with belligerent people. Some reacted out of fear, others out of downright meanness. No matter the reason, he’d been trained to keep his patience and let the barbs and jabs hit the invisible armor he always kept around him. But in Noelle’s case, he found her unfounded resentment hard to take.
“I think I can manage,” he said stiffly, then reached for his wallet. “Let me pay you for bringing me home and tending to my horse. I’d like to believe the rest of your help was a Good Samaritan act.”
“I don’t want your money. And as for being a Good Samaritan, I don’t walk away from wounded animals. Or humans.”
“Fine.” He opened the truck door and climbed out. “Thanks again. Maybe we’ll see each other again sometime. I know that would make you happy.”
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