Wyoming Tough

Chapter SEVEN




MORIE WAS CONFUSED about her feelings for Mallory and her growing concern about Gelly Bruner’s interference and antagonism. The woman really hated her, and she was going to find a way to make trouble. Not that Morie was willing to run from a fight. If worse came to worst, she could always tell them the truth about herself. Except that Mallory, who hated lies, would think her a hopeless liar and probably never speak to her again.

She finished her cold biscuit and cooling coffee and sighed. Just as she started to get up, she heard a twig snap. There was another sound of movement, rhythmic. Any hunter knew that to walk normally was a dead giveaway to prey he was stalking. Animals never moved rhythmically. They’d hear the odd rhythm and know it was a human even before they caught his scent.

Morie looked toward her saddled horse, where her pistol was. She did have her cell phone in her pocket, though. She stood up and pulled it out, fumbling as she tried to turn it on. Of all the times not to have it activated…!

“Don’t do that” came a curt, masculine command from behind her.

She whirled, frightened and shocked, to see a tall, sandy-haired man with a hunting rifle standing just a few yards away. She trembled and dropped the phone. Her wide brown eyes were appalled as she looked at the rifle and hoped that she’d lived a good enough life that she wouldn’t go somewhere horrible when she died.

She didn’t speak. It would be useless. Either he’d kill her or he wouldn’t. But the bore of that rifle barrel looked ten inches wide as she stared down it. She lifted her hands and waited.

But surprisingly, he didn’t shoot. He lowered the gun. “Where did Tank go?” he asked suddenly.

“T…tank?”

“Tank Kirk,” he said curtly. His blue eyes were dark and glittery.

“That wasn’t Tank. It was Cane.” She faltered. “He just came to offer to ride the fence line with me, because there’s an escaped murderer on the loose.”

“Murderer,” he scoffed. “It was an accident. The idiot fell into a brick wall and his even more idiotic girlfriend lied and said I did it deliberately. Getting even, because I knew what she was and I wanted no part of her.”

She lowered her hands slowly. Her heart was slamming against her ribs. “You’re Joe Bascomb.” She faltered.

“Yes, unfortunately.” He sighed. He stared at her. “Have you got anything to eat out here? I’m so sick of rabbit and squirrel—bad time of year to eat either. They’re not really in season. But a man gets hungry.”

“I have a biscuit left. No coffee, I’m sorry, but I have a bottle of water.” She offered both.

He put down the rifle and ate the biscuit with odd delight, closing his eyes on the taste. “Mavie must have made these.” He sighed. “Nobody cooks like she does.” He finished it off in a heartbeat and washed it down with half the bottle of water.

Morie watched him with open curiosity. He didn’t act like a murderer.

He noted her gaze and laughed shortly. “I wasn’t going to end up in a maximum-security prison while my lawyer spins out appeal after appeal. I hate cages. God, I hate cages! To think I could ever end up like this because of some spiteful, vicious woman…!”

“If you’d had a good defense attorney, he could have taken her apart on the witness stand,” she returned.

“My attorney is from legal aid, and they come in all sizes. This one’s meek and mild and thinks that women have been victimized too much in courts, so she wouldn’t say anything to hurt my accuser’s feelings.”

“You should have asked the judge to appoint someone else.”

“I did. They couldn’t get anyone else to volunteer.” He sighed heavily and ran a restless big hand through his hair. “She did say she’d appeal. I think she finally realized that I was innocent, after I’d been convicted. She said she was sorry.” He glared at Morie. “Sorry! I’m going to get the needle, and she’s sorry!”

“So am I,” she said gently. “The justice system usually works. But people are the odd element in any trial. Mistakes get made.”

“You’d know this, how?” he asked, but with a smile.

“My uncle is a state supreme court judge,” she replied. “In Texas.”

His eyebrows arched. “Impressive.”

She smiled. “Yes, it is. He used to work for legal aid and donate time, when he was younger. He still believes everyone is entitled to proper representation.”

“I wish he sat on the bench in Wyoming,” Bascomb replied sadly.

“You should turn yourself back in,” she advised. “This is only going to make things worse for you.”

“They couldn’t get much worse,” he replied. “I lost my wife last year. She died of a heart attack. She was only twenty-nine years old. Who dies of a heart attack at twenty-nine?” he exclaimed.

“There was a football player at my high school who dropped dead on the playing field at age seventeen of an unknown heart problem,” Morie replied. “He was a sweet boy. We all mourned him. People get all sorts of disorders at young ages. You don’t think of little children having arthritis, either, do you? But some grammar-school kids have rheumatoid arthritis that limits them in all sorts of ways. Kids also have diseases like diabetes. We don’t only get things wrong with us when we’re old.”

“I guess so. It’s not a perfect world, is it?” he added.

She shook her head.

He finished the bottle of water. “Thanks. I’ve been going by my mom’s place for food, but they’ve got people watching it. I don’t want her to suffer for what I’ve done. I’ve been hunting for food.”

“What about water?” she asked gently. “It’s dangerous to drink water from springs….”

He pulled a packet of tablets out of his vest pocket and showed her. “It makes any water potable,” he said. “I was in the military. Tank and I served together in Iraq. That seems like a hundred years ago.” He grimaced. “He testified for me.

It was a real brave thing to do, when everybody thought I was guilty. The local boy’s family is known and loved, and that made it a lot harder for me to get an unbiased jury. In fact—” he sighed “—one of the jurors was actually an illegitimate blood relation. My attorney didn’t catch that on voir dire, either.”

She caught her breath. “That’s a disqualification. Grounds for a retrial.”

“You think so?” he asked, curious.

“I do. You should speak to your attorney.”

He laughed shortly. “She’s not my attorney anymore. I read in a discarded newspaper that she said she couldn’t represent someone who proved himself guilty by running away. So now I’ve got no defense and nobody to advise me.”

She moved a step closer. “I’m advising you. Turn yourself in before it’s too late.”

He shook his head. “Can’t do that. I can’t survive locked up in a cage. I’ve had months of it. I’d rather die than go back, and that’s the truth.”

She could sympathize. She didn’t like closed places, either. “It will go harder on you that you didn’t wait for an appeal.”

“I don’t care,” he said heavily. “My wife is dead…the life I had is all gone. I’ve got no reason to go on anyway. If they shoot me down in the woods, well, it won’t be so bad. God forgives people. Even bad people. I don’t think He’ll send me to purgatory.”

“You can’t give up,” she said, driven to comfort him. “God puts us here for a reason. We may never know why. It may be to inspire one person, or give another a reason to keep them from suicide, or be in the right place to give aid to save someone’s life who may one day save the world. Who knows? But I believe we have a purpose. All of us.”

“And what do you think mine is?” he asked with amusement. She was so fervent in her beliefs.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “But you have a part to play. I’m sure of that. Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up.”

“There was this movie Galaxy Quest with Tim Allen and Alan Rickman, kind of a Star Trek spoof,” he recalled. “Their running line was ‘Never give up, never surrender!’”

“I saw that one. It was terrific,” she replied, smiling.

He shrugged. “I guess it wasn’t such a bad credo, at that.” He shouldered the gun. “Don’t tell anybody I was here,” he said.

She bit her lower lip. It sounded like a threat.

He gave her a long-suffering look. “You might get in trouble for giving me food and water,” he added.

She relaxed. “Oh. Thanks.”

“I’m a wanted man,” he replied quietly. “I’m not giving up, no matter what. They’ll have to take me down. Prison is a horrible place for an outdoors-man.” He looked around at the towering trees and the blue, blue sky. “This is my cathedral,” he said solemnly. “There’s no place closer to God than the forest.” He drew in the scent of it with closed eyes. “I should never have let her talk me into going to her apartment,” he said. “She was screaming. She said her boyfriend was banging on the door threatening to kill her and I was the only person she knew that she could trust to deal with him. I must have been out of my mind,” he added remorsefully. “She was fending him off when I got there, but he muttered something about her attacking him first. She set us both up. I don’t think she meant for him to die, or me to go to prison… It was just a misguided plea for attention. But she caused it. Now she’s the injured party and I’m being sued for wrongful death by his family.” He gave her a long look.

She winced. “I’m sorry.”

“Hell, so am I,” he said heavily. “Don’t know what I ever did to deserve this.”

“It’s a trial,” she replied. “All of us have them. It’s part of the process of life. You’ll get through it,” she added firmly.

“Think so? If I were a gambler, I’d take that bet and get rich on it.” He looked at her clothing and laughed. “Well, maybe not. You don’t look any better off than I was, no offense.”

“None taken,” she replied.

“I have to go. Thanks for the help. But if I’m caught, I’ll swear you never did a thing to help me,” he added.

“And I’ll swear that I did,” she said proudly. “I’m not afraid of due process. My uncle is a judge. He’d find someone good to represent me.”

His blue eyes smiled at her. “Lucky you. Thanks, kid.”

She laughed. “You’re welcome. I wish I could help you.”

His face softened. “You’re a nice person. My wife was like that. She’d have helped anybody, in the law or out of it. I miss her so much.”

“It’s just a little separation,” she said. “We all go, eventually. It’s a matter of time.”

He cocked his head. “She’d have said that, too.” He looked around. “You be careful out here, all alone. It’s dangerous sometimes. There are other people who shun society. Some of them are homeless people with various mental disturbances. They could hurt you.”

“I know. I’ve got a phone.”

“Keep it on,” he advised drily.

“Yes, well if I’d had it on, the police would already be here, wouldn’t they?” she said pointedly.

He chuckled. “I guess so.” He gave her a last look. “Be safe.”

“You, too.”

He turned and walked back into the woods. She noted that when he was almost out of sight, the rhythm of his footsteps changed and became halting and unsteady. Like an animal’s gait. She realized then that he’d walked in a human pattern to alert her to his presence, so that he wouldn’t frighten her too much by appearing suddenly. She felt sorry for him. She wondered if she could get in touch with Uncle Danny and find him some help. Even if he was guilty as sin, he needed a lawyer. Uncle Danny would know someone. She was certain of it.



THAT NIGHT, SHE CALLED HIM. She knew his habits quite well, and one of them was to work very late at his office on nights when circuit court was in session. Sure enough, he answered the phone himself. He was surprised but pleased to hear from her.

“Having fun at your job?” he asked, amused that she’d defied King to work as a cowgirl on a ranch.

“Lots,” she replied. “But I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, sweetie,” he replied. “Not prying, but is there some reason besides love that you’re calling me at night? Got a problem?”

“Sort of,” she said. “There’s this escaped convict who was framed…”

“Oh, spare me,” he said heavily. “Honey, you have no idea how many innocent people are serving life terms in federal prison. They were framed, the cops were dishonest, somebody was getting even with them…”

“But it’s not like that.” She faltered. “Tank Kirk was a character witness for him. The man fought in Iraq. His wife died. This other woman chased him and couldn’t get him, so she set him up by crying for help when her boyfriend was beating her up. The guy came to her rescue, struggled with the man, who hit his head and died. The woman then swore that the convict did it deliberately. It’s her word against his, and he only had a public defender.”

“Careful, darlin’, I was a public defender,” he chided. “It’s a noble calling.”

“Yes, well this public defender was on the woman’s side and wouldn’t press the case. There’s something else. There was a blood relative of the victim on the jury and it wasn’t caught in voir dire.”

“Now that’s another matter, a very serious one,” Danny replied. “His attorney should press for a retrial on that basis, if she can prove it.”

“He isn’t represented,” she replied. “His attorney quit when he escaped and ran from the law.”

“Oh, boy.”

“I know. I shouldn’t get involved. But he seems a decent man. You’d have to know the Kirk brothers to understand why I think he’s innocent. Tank isn’t easily fooled about people.”

“Ah. But he’s fooled about you, isn’t he?”

She had to concede that point. “Touché.”

“Tell you what. I know some people in the judiciary in Wyoming. I’ll make a few phone calls. What’s the man’s name?”

“Joe Bascomb.”

“Okay. But you stay out of it. Believe me, you don’t want to be charged as an accessory, in aiding an escaped convict,” he added.

“Yes, I know. I won’t. Thanks.”

“Hey, how could I turn down my favorite girl?” he teased. “See you soon. Take care.”

“You, too.”

She closed up the little phone with a sigh. It wasn’t any of her business. But the man had seemed so personable. He could have killed her, attacked her, if he’d wanted to. There had been nobody to help her. But he’d been polite and courteous and kind. It spoke volumes about the sort of person he was. She had to help if she could. And you never knew, she considered. There was a pattern to life. He’d become entwined in hers. There had to be a reason, somewhere. She might find it out one day.



THE NEXT MORNING, Mallory was looking at her with more suspicion than ever. She walked over to him, trying not to notice how very attractive he was. She wished she could have met him in her real persona, as she was, so that things would have been on an equal footing from the beginning. As it was, he’d know someday that she’d lied to him about her status. Or perhaps he wouldn’t. She could go home, go back to the old life, marry the nice clean-cut young millionaire her father was pressing her to marry and settle down. She could forget the rough rancher who lived in Wyoming and thought she was shady and untrustworthy. If only he could know how much those accusations hurt her.

She looked up at him with wide dark eyes. “Something wrong, boss?”

“You know that we keep a record of all outgoing phone calls here?” he asked solemnly.

Her heart jumped. She’d called Texas. In fact, she’d called her uncle’s office.

“Do you?” she asked, trying to sound innocent.

“I’d like to know why you were phoning a superior court judge in Texas,” he said simply. He shoved his hands into his pockets and gave her a cold smile. “In fact, the same superior court judge who flew up here for our party. Did you discuss something more than canapés when you met him outside and Gelly caught you? Is he your lover? Or do you have a lawsuit in mind and you’re looking for advice? I do recall that you threatened to sue Gelly.”

Her heart raced while she searched for excuses that wouldn’t sound any more alarm bells. She didn’t want to give away Tank’s friend. If Mallory knew she’d seen the man in the woods, he might call the sheriff. She didn’t want to cause the poor man any more trouble than she already had.

“I forgot to add something to the recipe I gave him,” she blurted out.

He blinked and stared at her. “Excuse me?”

“The canapé recipe,” she continued. “I forgot to tell him how long his housekeeper should cook them. He said they were having some big to-do on his family’s ranch next month and he wanted the recipe for that.”

“So you called him in the middle of the night to tell him?” he asked, incredulous.

She grimaced. “It was when I remembered it,” she replied, and shrugged. “I forget stuff.”

“Not his phone number, apparently,” he mused.

“It was listed on the internet,” she muttered, prevaricating because it was for a good cause. “I used a search engine. I knew his name and what he did for a living. The rest was easy.”

He let out a long breath. He always seemed to be suspicious of her, and he hated himself for it. She seemed to be an honest, hardworking, kind young woman. But he didn’t trust his instincts. He’d been taken in one time too many by a woman who wasn’t what she seemed. This one knew her way around the law, despite her protests, and she could pose a real threat to the ranch if she was trying to set him up.

On the other hand, his heart started doing cartwheels every time he looked at her, and that was getting worse by the day. He wanted her. He was having a hard time hiding it, especially from his brothers, who noticed everything.

Gelly was furious that he even talked about Morie, which he did often, involuntarily. He’d mentioned her help in the kitchen, which Mavie had been overjoyed to have. Gelly wouldn’t dirty her fingers in a kitchen, and she was already jealous. Too jealous. He’d let the woman get too familiar with him, just by not pushing her away when he still could. Now she was talking about marriage and interceding with him for a friend who wanted to buy some scrubland on the northernmost end of the ranch.

“It’s just worthless land,” she coaxed. “You can’t run cattle on it. This poor man just lost everything he had. He just wants a few acres to live on. Maybe grow a little garden.”

“If it’s land you can’t run cattle on, you sure as hell can’t farm it, Gelly,” he’d replied. “Besides, it’s a family ranch and that would be a family decision. You need to have the man come and talk to us.”

She didn’t dare do that. The brothers would realize in a heartbeat that he was a businessman, not a down-on-his-luck rancher.

“Oh, he’s out of town,” she said, thinking quickly.

“Doing what?”

She thought. “Visiting his sick brother.”

He shrugged. “No problem. Have him come see us when he gets back. Now, are you hell-bent on going to this movie?” he added, indicating it on the screen of his computer. “I don’t like comedies.”

“It’s funny,” she assured him. “At least, that’s what I was told. You need a night out. You spend too much time working around here. You should hire a manager. You know, I just met a man who would do nicely. He’s college educated and…”

“I run the ranch,” he said coldly, looking up at her.

She hesitated. “Well, I was just mentioning it. About the movie,” she added, and quickly changed the subject. He was too quick for her. She’d have to be more careful.

Mallory was remembering the conversation while he was staring pointedly at Morie. She flushed under the scrutiny. He could see her heart beating wildly against her shirt. Her breasts were pointed suddenly, too, and he felt his own body reacting to her arousal. He wanted to back her into the wall and kiss her forever.

He pulled himself up short. He had to get her out of here before he did something stupid. “All right,” he said. “You can go back to work.”

“Thanks.” She didn’t look at him again. She could barely walk for the trembly feeling that went over her. He’d looked at her with pure hunger. She knew he wanted her, but he didn’t trust her. He was remembering her involuntary outburst in the woods. If only she’d kept her mouth shut! He’d never trust her again and she had only herself to blame. But she could win his trust. She knew she could. She just had to try.



HE TOLD GELLY, WITHOUT meaning to, about Morie’s phone call to the Texas judge.

“Well, that’s not surprising,” she commented on the way to the movie.

“Why not?” he shot at her.

“They were all hugged up together when I went out to tell her to get back to work and stop disturbing your guests,” she replied, lying through her teeth. She smiled secretively when she saw his expression. “He was very rude to me. He didn’t like it that I interrupted them.”

“She said she was giving him a canapé recipe,” he scoffed.

She laughed out loud. “Oh, come on!” She glanced at him with lowered eyelids. “And you actually believed her?”

He didn’t like feeling foolish. “I suppose so. At first.”

“I’m sure there’s something going on there,” she replied easily. “They obviously knew each other all along. And he’s a judge.” She glanced at him again. “What if she’s trying to set you up for a lawsuit and he’s helping her? Some judges are dishonest, you know.”

That was what he’d thought himself. He didn’t want to agree with her.

“She looks to me the sort who’d look for an easy way,” she added. “She’s so poor, she’d probably do anything to get out of debt, to have nice clothes that were currently in fashion, to be seen at the best places, to travel first-class around the world.” She was daydreaming, not about her rival’s wishes, but her own. Her face set in hard lines. “She’s probably sick of having to do things she hates just to get ahead in life, to have the things she deserves and can’t get any other way.”

He gave her an astonished look.

She noted it, and cleared her throat. “I mean, that sort of woman obviously is hoping to make some rich man fall for her, and she’ll do whatever it takes. You’re rich. Of course she wants you. It’s obvious.”

“It is?”

“She stares at you all the time,” she muttered. “Like a kid looking at the counter in an ice-cream shop.”

“She does?” His heart jumped. He had to force himself not to react. “I hadn’t noticed,” he added in a droll tone.

“It’s disgusting the way she falls all over herself to please you. Let me tell you, she’s not like that around me,” she said grimly. “She’s all claws and teeth. She hates me. The way she talks to me…you should say something to her about it,” she added firmly. “It’s not right, to have a hired person speak that way to someone of my class.”

Of her class. Her father was a retired textile worker, he’d found that out quite accidentally in conversation with a neighbor. Her late mother had been a bank clerk, an honorable profession but not something that gave her carte blanche to high society. Gelly had aspirations. She wanted money. He felt hunted, all of a sudden. She’d been sweet and clinging and flattering at first. Now she was becoming aggressive and demanding, pushing him toward her friends who wanted cheap land and jobs and other things. It was vaguely annoying.

“You’re getting a little pushy lately yourself, Gelly,” he remarked curtly.

She caught her breath. “Am I? How so?”

“You sure do know plenty of people I can help,” he noted coolly.

She bit her lip. “Oh, that. I was asked about jobs here, that’s all. I don’t even know the man who wanted the managerial position—he’s a friend of a friend. And the man who wants the land is a good friend of my father’s. My father worked in a textile corporation, you know. He was quite well-known in certain circles.”

He was a cloth cutter, but Mallory wasn’t saying it. He’d keep his own counsel. There was something about Gelly that started to ring alarm bells in his brain. He just smiled and asked her where she’d like to eat after the movie let out.



BUT LATER HE SPOKE TO TANK.

“What do you really think of Gelly?” he asked when they were sipping coffee alone at the kitchen table. They rarely had it late at night, but they were helping with calving and it was a long and tedious job that never seemed to end when it was bedtime.

Tank’s dark eyes narrowed. “I don’t think about her, if I can help it. Why?”

“She’s got a friend who wants us to sell him some scrubland we own, that tract on the northern boundary that we can’t run cattle on. She says it’s just worthless land. He’s down on his luck and wants us to sell it to him cheap.”

Tank pursed his lips. “Wasn’t that the same land that the oil company had its eye on for fracking and we refused to lease it to them?”

Mallory raised his head. His eyes narrowed. “The very same.”

“I wonder if her friend has any ties to the oil and gas industry.”

“I wonder,” Mallory repeated, and he didn’t smile.

“You were asking someone about phone records,” Tank added. “May I ask why?”

He shifted restlessly and sipped coffee. “Morie called that superior-court-judge friend of Cane’s in Texas late at night.”

Tank’s eyes lifted. “Danny Brannt?”

Mallory looked murderous. “Brannt?”

“Yes. His brother is Kingston Brannt. He has an empire down in Texas. Runs Santa Gertrudis cattle that make ours look like mongrels by comparison.”

“Morie’s last name is Brannt,” Mallory replied thoughtfully.

“Yes, but there’s no relation. I asked Danny. He said it’s one of the most common names in his part of Texas.” He added with a smile, “Like Smith in other places. Coincidence. Nothing more.”

“Really?”

“Look at Morie, for God’s sake,” Tank replied. “She’s sweet, but she’s poor as Job’s turkey, can’t you see? She didn’t even have a decent cell phone until we got one for her.”

Mallory felt a chill. “She’s courting a judge,” he said. “I think she may be looking for a way to sue us.”

“You tar and feather her every chance you get, don’t you?” Tank replied. “I wonder why.”

“Gelly thinks she’s up to something.”

“Yes? Well, I think Gelly’s up to something, and to your detriment.” He finished his coffee. “Better watch your step.”

“Maybe so,” he conceded after a minute. He finished his own coffee. “Guess we’d better grab a little sleep while we can,” he added.

Tank nodded his agreement. “Good advice.”