Chapter Twelve
As Jacklyn reached the county road, a truck whizzed past, headed in the direction of the W Bar Ranch.
“That’s odd,” she said, as she caught a glimpse of the man behind the wheel. Buford Cole had to have seen them, but appeared to turn away, as if not wanting to be recognized.
“Looks like he’s headed for Waters’s ranch,” Dillon said, lifting a brow.
She was reminded of what Buford had told her at the steak house. “He’s a friend of yours.” She hadn’t meant to make it sound so much like an accusation.
Dillon looked away. “I lost some friends when I went to prison. Buford was one of them.”
That surprised her. “Why was that?”
He turned to smile at her. “You tell me. Was he the one who helped you capture me? I’ve always wondered who betrayed me.”
She heard the pain in his voice. But it was the underlying anger that worried her. “No one helped me.”
He gave her a look that said he didn’t believe that for a minute.
“Buford used to rustle cattle with you, didn’t he?”
Dillon didn’t reply. But then, she thought she knew the answer. Buford had known too much about Dillon’s motives not to have helped him.
And what about Dillon’s other buddies, Pete Barclay and Arlen Dubois? Dillon hadn’t seemed happy to see any of them. And now that she thought about it, they were giving him distance, as well. Because they didn’t want her to know that they were still involved in rustling together?
“If I were you, I wouldn’t trust anything Buford told you,” Dillon said finally.
“Why?”
He looked at her as if she wasn’t as smart as he’d thought. “Because he can’t be trusted.”
“Unlike you. Is Buford smart enough to be running this latest rustling gang?”
Dillon shook his head without hesitation. “He’s smart enough, but he has no imagination.”
“Rustling requires imagination?” she asked, half-mockingly.
He grinned. “As a matter of fact, it does. Whoever is running this gang has imagination. Look what they pulled off at the Crowleys’. Stealing the cattle in broad daylight right in front of the house. That took imagination. And bravado.”
She heard admiration in his voice.
“Don’t be giving me that look,” he said. “If I was the one behind this gang, do you think I’d be bragging on myself?”
“As a matter of fact….”
DILLON GLANCED UP as she pulled off the road. Out the windshield, all he could see was pasture beyond the barbed wire fence gate. He shot Jack a questioning look. She appeared to be waiting for him to get out and open a gate that hadn’t been opened for some time. The fence posts on both sides were clearly marked with orange paint.
In Montana any fool knew that a fence post painted orange meant no trespassing. It meant prosecution under the law if caught on that land. And up here, especially with a band of rustlers on the loose, the rancher would be prone to shoot first and ask questions later.
Especially this rancher, because the land on the other side of that gate was W Bar property, belonging to Shade Waters.
“What the hell?” Dillon asked quietly as he met her gaze.
“I called Stratton this morning and told him we would be going north up by the Milk River for a few days, to follow a lead,” she said.
Dillon felt an odd ache in his chest. She’d lied to her boss, just as he’d suggested she should do. “Are you sure about this?”
“No,” she said without hesitation. “If you want to know the truth, I suspect you’re setting me up. But Waters lied about having cattle down by the old windmill and Pete lied about seeing someone in that area. I can only assume Shade was just trying to keep me busy. And that makes me wonder if he isn’t trying to keep me away from another part of his ranch. You said that stock truck was headed north, right?”
Dillon nodded slowly.
“Toward your old ranch.”
“Looked that way.”
“Any thoughts on why he would get rid of the rustled calves on your family’s old place?”
Dillon smiled at that. “For the same reason you’re thinking. To make it look like I had something to do with it.”
She nodded.
“So when I told you about the calves in the back of the stock truck, you believed me?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t go that far. I wanted to do a little investigating on my own first.” She reached into the glove box, pulled out a map and spread it on the seat between them. “Okay, Waters ranch house is here. Most of his cattle are in this area.” She looked up at Dillon. “I had a friend who owns a plane fly over it early this morning.”
He met her gaze. “You are just full of surprises.”
“The problem is there’s no way to get to your old ranch anymore without driving right past Waters’s house.” She pointed to the map. “Reda Harper’s place is past his. According to the map, there used to be a section road that connected with another county road to the east, but that’s now part of the W Bar.”
“Waters closed the road after he bought our ranch,” Dillon said, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice. Waters had had his family’s ranch house razed.
“Can I ask you something?”
Her tone as much as her words surprised him. And he knew before she asked that her question wasn’t about cattle rustling business.
“This bad blood between you and Shade Waters, am I wrong in suspecting it goes deeper than his ending up with your ranch?” she asked.
Dillon chuckled and looked toward the mountains in the distance. “I told you Nate had an older brother. He was killed trying to ride a wild horse.” His voice sounded flat over the painful beating of his heart. “Halsey was my best friend.” He looked at her. “It happened on our ranch.”
She let out a breath as if she’d been holding it, compassion and understanding in her eyes. “Shade blamed you.”
He nodded. “And my family. Halsey was…” He chewed at his cheek for a moment. “Well, there just wasn’t anyone like him. A day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t missed him.”
“It must be worse for Shade,” she said.
“Halsey was definitely his favorite of the two boys.” Dillon looked down at the map. “So what we need is a way to get to my old ranch without Waters or his men seeing us, right?” he asked, hoping she’d let him change the subject.
“Right,” she said, to his relief. “I thought you might have some ideas.”
He managed a grin. “You know me. I’m just full of good ideas.”
“Let’s see if we can find those calves,” Jack said. “Open the gate, Mr. Savage. You’re about to get us both arrested for trespassing.”
JACKLYN WOUND HER WAY among rocks and sage, across open grasslands. As soon as she reached a low spot where she was sure the truck and horse trailer couldn’t be seen from the county road, she cut the engine.
The former Savage Ranch land was miles away, but the only way to get there without being seen was by horseback. Water and wind had eroded the earth to the north, carving canyons and deep ravines that eventually spilled into the Missouri River. It was badlands, inaccessible by anything but horseback, and isolated. They would have a long ride. That’s why she’d brought provisions in case they had to camp tonight.
Jacklyn didn’t doubt for an instant that Waters would have them arrested for trespassing if he caught them before they could find the evidence they needed to open up an investigation.
“You suspected the calves are buried on my family’s former ranch the minute I told you about the dead calves, didn’t you?” Dillon said with a grin as they saddled up their horses and loaded supplies into the saddlebags.
She just smiled at him. The truth was she’d had a hard time believing his story. Why kill the calves? What was the point of rustling them in the first place?
But the more she’d pondered the topic, the more she couldn’t help thinking about what Dillon had said regarding motive. Was there a chance it had nothing to do with money? That the rustlers didn’t want the calves—they just wanted them stolen?
It made no sense to her, but it seemed to make sense to Dillon. If what Buford had told her was true, Dillon had rustled cattle as retribution against his neighboring ranchers and Waters. He hadn’t wanted the cattle, either.
Which made her suspicious, given that the current rustlers appeared to have a similar, nonmonetary motive.
“Don’t you wonder why the rustled calves are being dumped on my former land?” Dillon asked.
“Like you said, it makes you look guilty.”
“But you know I’m too smart for that,” he said, grinning at her.
Again Jack smiled back. “Right. You’re so smart you would have the rustled cattle put on your land to frame Waters, by making it look like he was trying to frame you.”
Dillon laughed, shaking his head.
But the truth was he looked worried. And maybe with good reason. If DNA tests were run on the dead calves he’d seen, she’d bet it would match cattle stolen from the same ranches that he had stolen from in the past.
“What if you never get justice?” she asked seriously.
Dillon seemed surprised by her question. “Isn’t that the reason you do the job you do? To make sure justice is served?” He winked at her. “See, you and I aren’t that different after all, Jack. We just have our own way of getting the job done.”
She watched Dillon ride on ahead of her. He looked at home in the saddle. She’d come to realize there was little Dillon Savage wasn’t capable of doing. Or willing to do for justice. Was that why he was helping her now?
As if he felt her eyes on him, he slowed his horse, turning to look back at her. Their gazes locked for a moment. He smiled as if he knew that she’d been studying him.
She looked away, hating that he made her heart beat a little faster. Worse, that he knew it. Dillon Savage was arrogant enough without seeing any kind of interest in her eyes.
“Everything all right?” he asked, reining in his horse to ride next to her again.
“Fine.”
His grin broadened. “You don’t have to always play the tough guy.”
“Who’s playing?”
He laughed. “You know, Jack, I like you. I don’t care what other people say about you.”
It was an old joke, but it still made her smile. Maybe because she knew at least the part about other people was true.
“Some men may hold a grudge toward you,” he said as he rode alongside her. “But you and I understand each other.”
She glanced at him, wondering if that was true.
SHADE WATERS STOOD at the front window, watching his son’s SUV barrel up the road. Nate hadn’t come home last night. Where had he been? Shade could only guess. He’d been with Morgan Landers.
Waters waited anxiously, having made a decision. He had to tell Nate exactly what would happen if he persisted in dating this woman.
As the car came to a stop, Shade saw that Nate wasn’t alone, and swore. Morgan. Well, he’d have one of the ranch hands take her back to town, because he couldn’t put off this talk with his son. He wouldn’t.
Waters didn’t turn at the sound of footfalls on the porch or the opening and closing of the door. He realized he was shaking, his entire body trembling.
“Nate.” He cleared his voice, raising it. “Nate. I need to talk to you. Alone.”
He finally turned as Nate entered the room. His son looked like hell. Obviously hungover, as if he’d pulled an all-nighter. Waters felt disgust as he stared at his youngest offspring. If only his elder son, Halsey, had lived.
“Dad…” Nate said, and Morgan appeared at his side, looping her arm through his, a big, victorious smile on her face.
Shade felt his heart drop. “I want to speak to my son alone.” He saw Morgan give a little tug on Nate’s arm.
“Dad,” Nate began again. “There’s something I need to tell you.” He didn’t sound happy about it. Or was he just afraid of Shade’s reaction? “Morgan and I got married last night.”
Shade felt the floor beneath him threaten to crumble to dust. He watched his every dream fly out the window. He’d always hoped that Nate would change, that he’d grow up and want to take the ranch to the next level. He’d hoped Nate would make the Waters name known not only all across Montana, but also the Northwest. Maybe even farther. Anything would have been possible.
But as he looked at his son’s hangdog face, Shade knew that Nate would only run the ranch into the ground. And Morgan… He looked at her self-satisfied expression and knew she would bleed the place dry, then dump Nate for someone with more to offer.
He saw every dream he’d ever had for the W Bar disappear before his eyes.
“Congratulations,” he said, hoping the break in his voice didn’t give him away. He stepped to his son and shook his hand, squeezing a little too hard.
Then he kissed Morgan on the cheek, embracing her, even smiling. Both newlyweds were surprised and taken aback. They’d run off to get married, afraid he’d try to stop them. Now they expected him to be upset, even to rant and rave and threaten them.
Clearly, neither knew him very well.
“I wish you both the best,” he said, almost meaning it. “This calls for champagne. You will join me for dinner tonight, won’t you?”
They both readily agreed, and Waters smiled to himself.
He’d break the news at dinner.
JACKLYN RODE THE HORSE across sun-drenched, rolling hills miles from the nearest road, the grasses vibrant green, the air sharp with the scents of spring. Dillon rode next to her, his gaze more often than not on the horizon ahead—on land that had once been in his family for five generations.
For a long time, neither spoke. She could see how much Dillon was enjoying this. There was a freedom about him even though she had the tracking monitor in her saddlebag.
They stopped for lunch in a stand of trees, letting their horses graze while they ate their sandwiches. Out here, Jacklyn felt as if she was a million miles from civilization.
After lunch, they rode on again, across land starting to change from prairie to badlands.
“So tell me about your childhood,” Dillon said out of the blue once they were back in the saddle. “Come on, Jack, we’ve got a long ride today. If you don’t want me to sing—and believe me, you don’t—then talk to me. You a Montana girl or a transplant?” When she didn’t answer, he said, “Okay, if you want me to guess—”
“Montana. I grew up around West Yellowstone. I was an only child. My mother taught school. My father was a game warden.”
Dillon let out a low whistle. “That explains a lot. Now I see where you get it.”
“The game warden father,” she said sarcastically.
“No, the schoolteacher mother,” he joked, and she had to smile. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”
“So tell me about you,” she said.
“Come on, Jack, you know my whole life story. What you didn’t already know I’m sure Buford Cole filled you in on the other night at the steak house.”
She couldn’t hide her surprise.
He grinned. “Yeah, I saw him talking to you. I can just imagine what he had to say.”
“Can you? He said you’re a man who holds a grudge.”
His grin broadened. “Buford should know. We’re cut from the same cloth.”
“He also said he wouldn’t be surprised if you were leading this gang of rustlers.”
Dillon laughed. “You don’t believe that anymore,” he said as he rode on ahead.
When she caught up to him, Dillon could tell she had something on her mind. “Come on, let’s have it,” he said.
“I was just thinking how different you are from your cousin Hud.”
Oh boy, here it comes. As if he hadn’t heard that his whole life. “How is Hud?” he asked, although he knew.
“He married his childhood sweetheart, Dana Cardwell. She owns a ranch in the Gallatin Canyon.”
Dillon nodded. He liked her voice, her facial expressions when she spoke. “I heard something about a lost will,” he said, encouraging her.
“Dana’s mother had told her she made up a new will leaving the ranch to her, with some of the income divided among the siblings, along with some other assets. For a while Dana couldn’t find the document leaving her the ranch, and it looked like she would have to sell to settle with her sister and brothers.”
“But the ranch was saved,” Dillon said, hating the bitterness he heard in his voice.
Unfortunately, Jack heard it, too. “Weren’t you away when your father sold the family ranch?”
He gave her a self-deprecating grin. “You know I was. But then, like I said, you know everything about me. You probably know when I had my first kiss, my first—”
“I know it is hard to lose something you love,” she said quickly, to cut him off, no doubt afraid of where he was headed.
“Have you ever lost something you loved?” he asked, studying her.
“Dana’s pregnant.” Jack looked away as she changed the subject. “She and Hud are expecting their first child this fall.”
That surprised Dillon. He hadn’t seen his cousin in years. But Uncle Brick had stopped up to the prison a few times a year to give Dillon a lecture and tell him how glad he was that his brother and sister-in-law weren’t still alive to see their son behind bars. Brick had also shared the going-ons with the family. The pregnancy must have been a recent development.
“I’m happy for Hud and Dana,” Dillon said, meaning it. “A baby.” Hud would make a great father. For the first time, Dillon felt a prickle of envy. Hud with a wife and a baby and living on Dana’s family ranch.
Settling down had been the last thing Dillon had imagined doing. He’d always told himself he would be bored to death with that kind of life. He needed excitement, adventure, challenge.
Hell, apparently he needed to be running from the law.
“If you don’t buy a ranch in the future, what will you do?” she asked.
He’d had plenty of time to think about what he would do once he was really free. “Can you see me behind a desk, wearing a three-piece suit?”
“Yes.”
He laughed. “Liar.” This felt good between them. Lighter. Freer. He liked it. He liked her, in spite of everything. That surprised him.
“So I guess you’ll ranch, since apparently cattle are in your blood.”
“Raising cattle so someone can steal them?” He chuckled to hide how close she’d come to the truth. “But then, you’d be around to catch the rustlers, right?”
She looked away.
“Hey, don’t worry about me,” he said, moving into her range of vision to smile at her.
“I’d hate to see you go back to rustling,” she said quietly.
“I’m sure you’re aware that my grandfather left me money,” Dillon said. “It’s not like I need to find a job.”
“Everyone needs a job,” she said adamantly. “You need something to occupy your mind. Especially your mind.”
I have something to occupy my mind, he thought as he looked at her.
“How much farther?” she asked, as if feeling the heat of his gaze.
“I think I know where the calves are buried and how to get there.” Dillon had been trying to think like Shade Waters. He regretted to realize that it wasn’t that hard. He’d gotten to know the man too well. Maybe had even become too much like him over the years.
“On the other side of the canyon,” he said. He’d been mulling over why Waters would be rustling cattle. It made no sense. Especially just to kill them. Was he trying to force out ranchers in the county so he could buy their land like he had Dillon’s father?
The W Bar was so huge now that Waters had to be having trouble running it all. Dillon doubted Nate was of any help. Nate had never been much of a cowboy, let alone a rancher. Unlike his brother, Halsey, who had loved ranch life as much as Dillon had.
Also what didn’t make sense—if he was right and Waters was dumping some of the stolen cattle on the old Savage Ranch—was why? Sure, he and the big rancher couldn’t stand the sight of each other, but Dillon was small potatoes. Waters was too smart to risk everything to try to get even with Dillon after all this time. And hadn’t he just offered to give back the ranch if Dillon got Morgan out of his life?
But what really worried him was why Buford Cole would be going to the W Bar. Buford had hated Waters as much as Dillon did. Or at least Dillon had thought so.
Ahead, the rolling prairie rose to rocky bluffs. “The canyon will be hot, but the route is shorter this way.”
She glanced over at him. Was that suspicion he saw in her eyes?
“It isn’t like we’ve been followed,” he said, looking over his shoulder. He could see for miles. No one knew they were here. And yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that Waters was one step ahead of them, laying a trap they were about to walk into.
As they rode between the rocks and into the narrow canyon, rocks and trees towering on each side, Dillon felt even more unease.
“Just a minute,” he said, reaching out to touch Jack’s hand on the reins.
She brought her horse up. “What’s wrong?”
He wished he knew what to tell her. How could he explain this feeling? “Let me go first,” he said, adding, “I know the way.”
The look she gave him said she doubted there was a chance of getting lost in the narrow canyon, but she let him ride ahead of her.
He urged his horse among the rocks. There was no breeze in here, only heat. It felt stifling. That and quiet. He was regretting coming this way when a shadow fell over him.
He glanced up in time to see a hawk soar low over the rocks, its shadow flickering over the canyon for a few seconds before it was gone.
Dillon was literally jumping at shadows. What the hell was wrong with him?
As he turned to look back at Jack, he felt his horse stumble and heard a metal ping like the snapping of a guitar string.
“Get back!” he yelled, and jerked his mount’s head around, digging his boot heels into its flanks.
He grabbed her reins as his horse rushed past hers, pulling her with him as the first rocks began to fall.
Their horses bounded along the canyon floor as the air filled with dust and the roar of a rockslide.