Beyond Control (Texas Trilogy #3)

“You ready to go?” Josh led Thor and Rosebud up to the front porch. In his faded jeans, boots, a snug T-shirt stretching over his gorgeous muscles, and a battered straw cowboy hat, the man was total eye candy, a sight Tory never grew tired of.

She handed him the lunch she’d prepared and Josh stuffed it into Thor’s saddlebag. “You bring a blanket?” The hot gleam in his eyes made her stomach float up.

“I’ve got it ready to go. I just need to grab it.” No way would she have forgotten. She ran back in and got the rolled-up blanket, which Josh tied behind Rose’s saddle.

“The crew will be starting again in the morning,” he said. He was remodeling the kitchen and bathrooms, determined to fix the house up the way he thought she would want it. He’d bought her a sweet compact SUV as a wedding gift and Ivy now had a little spotted puppy.

Tory didn’t really need anything as long as she was with Josh.

They had been married two months, the best two months of her life. As he grabbed her, hauled her close, and very thoroughly kissed her, she thought he felt the same.

“Kitchen’s almost finished,” she said. “I can’t wait to see how it turns out.”

He grinned. “No more burnt chicken.”

“Absolutely not.” She swung up on Rosebud at the same time Josh swung up on Thor. He looked at her with those beautiful blue eyes and everything inside her settled.

“You ready?” The buckskin danced beneath him.

Tory grinned. “I’ll race you to the gate.” She laughed as Rosebud leaped forward, hooves thundering, leaving her cowboy husband behind.

But not for long.





Have you read all of Kat Martin’s Texas Trilogy?

Read on for excerpts from Beyond Reason and Beyond Danger, available now!





BEYOND REASON


New York Times bestselling author Kat Martin raises chills as danger stalks a woman determined to make it in a man’s world . . .



Five weeks ago Carly Drake stood at her grandfather’s grave. Now she’s burying Drake Trucking’s top driver, and the cops have no leads on the hijacking or murder. Faced with bankruptcy, phone threats, and the fear of failure, Carly has to team up with the last man she wants to owe—Lincoln Cain.



Cain is magnetic, powerful, controlling—and hiding more than one secret. He promised Carly’s granddad he’d protect her. The old man took a chance on him when he was nothing but a kid with a record, and now he’s the multimillionaire owner of a rival firm.



But Linc’s money can’t protect Carly from the men who’ll do anything to shut her down, or the secrets behind Drake Trucking. If she won’t sell out, the only way to keep her safe is to keep her close . . . and fight like hell.



Iron Springs, Texas



For the second time since her return to Iron Springs, Carly Drake stood in a graveyard. A harsh Texas wind whipped the blades of grass around her legs as she waited in front of the rose-draped casket.

Between the rows of granite headstones, the Hernandez family huddled together, a wife weeping for her husband, children crying for their father.

Carly stood with her head bowed, her heart aching for the loss of a man she had known only briefly. Still mourning her grandfather’s recent passing, she understood the pain Miguel’s family was feeling. Joe Drake, the man who had raised her, the only father Carly had ever known, had died just five weeks ago.

But unlike her grandfather, whose heart had simply worn itself out, Joe Drake’s number one driver had been shot in the head, and the criminals who had committed the truck hijacking were still on the loose.

In the weeks since her grandfather’s death, Carly had been doing her best to run Drake Trucking, to keep the company afloat and its employees’ checks paid. She was doing the best she knew how, but Miguel had been killed on her watch and Carly felt responsible.

The wind kicked up. The end-of-September weather was fickle, hot and humid one day, rainy and overcast the next. The breeze plucked fine blond strands from the tight bun fashioned at the nape of her neck. As she smoothed the hair back into place, her gaze came to rest on a man on the far side of the mourners, a head taller than Miguel’s Hispanic family, taller than most of the other men in the crowd, big and broad-shouldered, with dark brown hair and a strikingly handsome face.

Carly leaned over and spoke quietly to the woman beside her, Brittany Haworth, a willowy brunette who had been her best friend in high school, a friendship that had resumed the day Carly had returned to Iron Springs, as if they had been apart just days instead of years.

“That man across from us,” Carly said. “The tall one? He was also at Joe’s funeral service. I remember him going through the line to pay his respects, but I was so upset I barely paid attention. Do you know who he is?”

Brittany, a little shorter than Carly’s five foot seven inches, looked up at her. “You’re kidding, right? You don’t recognize him? Obviously, you don’t read the gossip rags. He’s in the newspapers all the time. That’s Lincoln Cain. You know, the multimillionaire?”

Carly’s gaze went across the casket on the mound above the grave to the big man in the perfectly tailored black suit and crisp white shirt. “That’s Cain?”

As if he could feel her watching him, his eyes swung to hers, remained steady on her face. Carly couldn’t seem to look away. There was power in that bold, dark gaze. She could actually feel her pulse accelerate. “So what’s Cain doing in Iron Springs?”

“He owns a ranch here. He was born in Pleasant Hill, left to make his fortune, came back a few years ago mega-rich. It’s a fascinating story. You’ll have to Google him sometime.”

“I still don’t understand why he was at Grandpa Joe’s funeral, or why he’s here today.”

“For one thing, he was Joe’s competition. Texas American Transport is one of the biggest trucking companies in the world.”

She nodded. “TexAm Transportation. I know that, but—”

“Cain credits Joe Drake as one of the people who put him on the path to success. The Iron Springs Gazette published a couple of articles about him and Joe.”

Guilt swept over her. She’d been away so much. Off to college at the U of Texas in Austin ten years ago, which her grandfather had paid for, then a job in Houston as a flight attendant.

She had always wanted to see the world so instead of coming home to help Grandpa Joe, she’d gone to work for Delta. She’d been transferred here and there, worked out of New York for a while, came back to Iron Springs a couple of times a year, but her visits never lasted more than a few days; then she was gone again, flying somewhere else, off on another adventure.

Five weeks ago, she’d quit her job, given up her apartment in Seattle, and come home to stay. Joe’s heart condition had worsened. She’d started worrying about him, decided to come back and help him run Drake Trucking, take over some of the responsibilities and lessen the stress he was under.

She’d only been in Iron Springs a week when Joe had suffered a massive heart attack. He’d died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. By the time she’d received the call, rushed out of the office, and driven like a maniac to Iron Springs Memorial, Joe was gone.

She hadn’t been there for him when he needed her.

Just as she had so many times before, Carly had failed him.

“Carly . . .”

She glanced up at the sound of Brittany’s voice. The service had ended, the mourners breaking up, people walking away.

“He’s coming over,” Britt whispered. “Lincoln Cain.”

Carly homed in on him, about six-five, a man impossible to miss. She straightened as Cain approached.

“Ms. Drake? I’m Lincoln Cain.” He extended a big hand and she set hers in it, felt a warm, comforting spread of heat. Since being comforted only made her feel like crying, she eased her hand away.

“We met briefly at your grandfather’s service,” Cain said, “but I doubt you recall.”

His eyes weren’t brown, she realized, but a sort of dark gold. He had a slight cleft in his chin and a jaw that looked carved in stone. “Yes, I remember seeing you there. I don’t recall much else. It was a very bad day.”

“Yes, it was.”

She turned. “This is my friend Brittany Haworth.”