The Deputy Gets Her Man. Stella Bagwell

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      Clearly annoyed with himself for letting a woman rattle him, Tyler muttered, “Damn it, I don’t know. Deputy Lightfoot said some sort of accelerant was used. I just assumed it was gasoline.”

      Gib crossed the room and shoved the salt and pepper shakers onto a cabinet shelf. “What else did she say?”

      Pausing at the table, Tyler glanced out the glass patio doors situated a few steps away. From this angle, he could see the deputy’s truck parked near the main barn, but she wasn’t anywhere in sight. Nor were any of his ranch hands. She probably had them gathered in the barn. Or maybe she was cagey enough to talk to each of them independently. Either way, Tyler could imagine how the men would react to her. She was as sexy as hell. The kind of woman that made a man think of long, pleasurable nights.

      “She wanted to know if I was angry enough at Quint Cantrell to want to burn his land.”

      Comical confusion wrinkled the older man’s features. “Where did she get that idea? Quint is a friend. At least, he’s always appeared to be friendly.”

      “Because Quint wouldn’t sell me that tract of land near the river she thinks I might have wanted revenge.”

      Gib shook his head. “Why, that was more than two years ago. Took you a damned long time to retaliate.”

      Tyler sighed. “It’s her job to ask questions. She’s down at the ranch yard now with the men.”

      “And you didn’t go with her?” Gib was clearly aghast. “Those guys will eat her up.”

      “I wasn’t invited. Besides, I have a feeling Deputy Lightfoot can handle herself.” And if he got wind that even one man was rude to her, he’d personally punch him out. He wouldn’t tolerate his men behaving in any way less than respectable.

      “I hope you’re right,” Gib replied.

      Tyler walked over to a corner of the room and after plucking his cowboy hat from a hall tree, he levered the gray felt onto his head. “I have to go to town, so I won’t be here for lunch.”

      Gib’s voice followed him as he strode to the door. “You know what people think of you, Ty. They think you’re trouble.”

      Tyler’s jaw tightened. Yeah, he was trouble, he thought bitterly. All he’d ever done in his life was try to walk the straight and narrow, to do the right thing no matter what it cost. And it had cost him one hell of a lot.

      “I don’t give a damn what people think,” Tyler muttered.

      “Not here. But back in Texas …”

      “Was a lifetime ago, Gib. That doesn’t matter.” He paused at the open doorway long enough to cast the cook a pointed look. “If you’re worried my reputation is going to get you in trouble, you don’t have to hang around and wait for the axe to fall. You going back to the Rocking P would give Dad one more reason to gloat.”

      “Gloat, hell! Warren Pickens will never see this old man again. Dead or alive.” The older man shoved his hands into the soapy water and began to scrub a plate. “My home is here with you. Is that settled?”

      This was the perfect time to tell Gib just how grateful he was for his unwavering loyalty, Tyler thought. But he’d never learned to actually form the sentiments in his heart into words. He’d always believed in letting his actions speak for his feelings. While his twin brother had been exactly the opposite. He’d had a gift of gab and affectionate phrases had rolled off his tongue like molasses off a hot biscuit. And they’d meant little more.

      “It’s settled,” Tyler said, then moved to the older man and clasped his shoulder briefly. “I’ll be back by midafternoon.”

      Minutes later, Tyler was driving through a section of road where flames had eaten grass and underbrush right up to the edge of the bar ditch. Slowing the truck, he stared with disgust at the soot-covered ground, the charred tree trunks. The person responsible needed to be choked to within an inch of his life, just to show him how the wildlife felt when they were being consumed with smoke and running for their lives.

      But he wasn’t going to hold out much hope that the sheriff’s department would find the culprit. Unless they’d found plenty of worthwhile clues at the origin of the fire. And if that had been the case, Deputy Lightfoot hadn’t let on. No, she’d been wasting time with useless questions about his feelings toward the Cantrells.

      Trying not to think about Rosalinda Lightfoot, he pressed down on the accelerator. After rounding a sharp bend in the road, he spotted a Chaparral truck parked at the edge of the narrow dirt path. Seeing Laramie Jones sitting beneath the steering wheel, Tyler pulled alongside the vehicle and stopped. As he rolled down his window, Laramie did the same.

      “Out surveying the damage?” Tyler asked the dark-haired cowboy. Laramie had been the foreman of the huge neighboring ranch for far longer than Tyler had lived in New Mexico.

      He shot Tyler a weary grin. “Could’ve been worse.”

      “Amen to that. You lose any cattle?”

      “No,” Laramie answered. “What about yourself?”

      “One cow cut her leg, that’s all,” Tyler told him. “She must have spooked and bolted through the fence. Thankfully, most of the herd was up on a higher range last night.”

      “That’s good,” Laramie replied.

      Was the other man thinking how convenient that sounded? Tyler wondered. Was Laramie part of the group that considered him to be nothing but trouble? He didn’t want to think so. Laramie Jones was one of the few men who had befriended him since he’d moved here.

      I don’t give a damn what people think.

      Tyler’s outburst to Gib a few minutes ago hadn’t been completely true, he thought. He didn’t mind if people considered him cocky, or hot-tempered or a weird recluse. Those were trivial and sometimes even accurate descriptions of him. But the idea that anyone might consider him a criminal was another matter completely.

      “A deputy is up at the ranch right now questioning my men.” Pulling off his dark aviator glasses, he looked directly at the foreman. “If any of them had anything to do with this, Laramie, I want them to be severely punished.”

      “I have no doubts about that. A couple of deputies are at our place, too. Let’s hope they get to the bottom of this. And quick.”

      Tyler released a heavy breath. “So how is Quint taking all this? Last night when we were moving cattle I didn’t see him around.”

      “He’s angry and worried. That’s how he’s taking it. His wife, Maura, is pregnant and last night she was so upset over the fire that I convinced him to stay with her and let the rest of us men handle the cattle.”

      From what Tyler understood, the baby was going to be Quint’s third child, coming after two young sons. In all honesty, Tyler had to admit he was envious of the man. At one time in his life he’d wanted children desperately. More than anything, he’d wanted to be a father and raise his children far from the stranglehold Warren Pickens had placed upon him. But DeeDee hadn’t wanted to be a mother. Hell, after less than a year of being married, she’d not even wanted to be his wife. She’d wanted to have fun and enjoy СКАЧАТЬ