Three Cowboys

Chapter Four

Bull flew around the truck. “Tracy!”

A man had staggered out from the rocks and grabbed her. Bull pulled his gun as the man dragged Tracy down to the ground.

“Police! Stop or I’ll... Damn it, Trace.”

The man wasn’t attacking her. He was collapsing. Streaked with soot and mud, with dirty red smears on his face and hands that had to be blood, the man was falling. And instead of protecting herself, Tracy was turning him in her arms, trying to catch him.

They were both on the ground by the time Bull had scooted the horses aside and knelt beside them. “He could be armed or booby-trapped—”

“Bull, help me. It’s Julio Rivas.” She pulled the man’s head into her lap. “One of my missing students.”

“Miss Cobb...” Mees Cobb. Not a man at all. A lean, lanky teenage boy with filthy clothes, a thick accent and an unfocused look in his eyes that indicated shock or dehydration. “We have to save Brittany.”

Even if he wasn’t friendly, the young man was too injured or exhausted or both to be much of a threat. Bull holstered his weapon and gently lifted him so that Tracy could pull her arm from underneath him. Then he turned the boy and together they laid him on the burnt grass and gravelly soil in a more comfortable position. Bull took a closer look at a mat of sticky black hair and the puffy swelling at the boy’s left temple. A quick inspection beneath his damp, mud-caked T-shirt confirmed Bull’s suspicions. Julio Rivas had been hurt in ways that didn’t look like the results of a truck wreck or burns.

“Shh, Julio. Don’t try to talk.” Tracy’s comforting tone for the teen turned into a command for Bull. “He needs water.”

With a nod, Bull got up and pulled a water bottle from his saddle bag. He wet down the bandanna from his back pocket and handed it to Tracy while he took over holding up the teen’s head and helping him drink several swallows of the warm water.

“Son? I’m Detective McCabe. Who hurt you?” He waited for Tracy to wipe some of the grime from the boy’s nose and mouth before he offered him another drink. “Julio? Who did this to you?”

The dark brown eyes blinked, his focus improving a little bit each time. Exhaustion, blood loss, and potential internal injuries like a cracked rib or bruised kidney were still a concern, but Julio was breathing more deeply now, even though he winced at the pain. “Two men. A big man with a white bandage on his nose and bruised eyes. And a skinny guy. He was meaner.”

Bull didn’t need a police blotter to make the identification from that description. “Manny Ortiz and Sol Garcia.”

He handed the water bottle off to Tracy and let her continue cleaning the scrapes and minor burns the teen had sustained on his face and hands while Bull pulled out his cell phone to report in to Wyatt. He climbed back up to the top of the bank, but it didn’t make any difference.

“No damn reception out here.” He looked up and down the creek bed and back across the rising flatland from where they’d come. A quick assessment of the situation and some quicker decisions had to be made. They were alone out here, although what little sunlight remained made it difficult to see for more than a couple of miles in any direction. Although they were still on J-Bar-J land here by the creek, they were closer to the Mexican border than to the main house or any paved road. And Julio was a long way from even being able to climb up the rocky creek bank, so a long hike or fast ride back to civilization would be out of the question. And Bull’s teenage sister was about to spend another night held hostage by a dangerous drug lord. Snapping the phone shut, he tucked it into his pocket and slipped back down through the steep rocks to rejoin them. “Is that your truck, Julio?”

“I was driving it.”

Tracy poured a little more water on the bandanna to tend to the boy’s scraped knuckles and burned fingers. “How did you escape the fire?”

“When I came to in the truck, the fire was already coming over the hill. I lay down in the creek water.” Other than the singe marks on the hem of his jeans and boots, the trick had worked. The kid must have crawled out of the water and either hid or passed out amongst the rocks afterward. That was soot and mud on the surface of his clothes, not burnt material.

“That was smart.” Bull cooed to the horses to keep them calm as he checked both saddles for the gear they had on hand. “There’s no place between here and the Rio Grande where you could have escaped until the fire burned itself out.”

“Was Brittany with you?” Tracy asked.

“No. The Los Jaguares have her. Señor Calderón—he made me...I am sorry, Miss Cobb. My family owes him a debt.” The boy’s voice was raw from smoke or emotion or lack of water, but the energy behind it was a little stronger. “He would hurt my grandmother if I did not help.”

“Julio. We’re not placing blame right now. We just need to find answers.” Tracy’s tone was soft and solicitous, but her words were to the point. “Did you take Brittany from school?”

“I did not know they would... Señor Calderón said to bring the girl when I drove the truck—that it would look more like we were going on a date to visit my uncle. No one would ask us questions.”

Tracy whispered a curse through tight lips. “He was taking advantage of how young you are.”

“They met us for lunch. And Brittany got so sleepy. They had a place where she could nap.”

Bull’s fists clenched around the leather ties binding the rolled-up blanket to his saddle. “They doped her up.”

“I was going back to find her,” Julio insisted. “But the men. They said it was not my business. They took Brittany to his hacienda.”

“Calderón’s?” Bull stroked Jericho’s withers, silently apologizing for the tension the animal could sense, and telling the horse there’d be no comfy stall or grain tonight.

“Sí. Yes.” Bull went back to Tracy and stood over both of them to hear the rest of Julio’s story. “I went to see my grandmother, to tell her she would be fine. And then I was coming back to Serpentine. Go south with a load of hay and the girl. Come back with—”

“Drugs hidden in the hay bales?”

“Yes. But Brittany was friendly at school when I started hitting on her, talking her into going. And then she said she’d help me see my grandmother for Christmas. She wanted to help me. And she is so pretty. And so funny.” Julio turned his cheek into the charred dirt where he lay. “We kissed. I did not want to leave her.”

Bull propped his hands at his hips. Spare him the teenage angst. He needed a few more facts. “Okay, Romeo. So you decided you liked my sister, after all, and went back to Calderón’s hacienda to bring her home?”

Julio swung his gaze back up to Bull. “Brittany is your sister? I am so sorry, señor.”

“Apologize later.” Bull knelt down, eliminating some of the distance—and intimidation—between him and the lead he’d been looking for. “Did you see Brittany when you went back to the hacienda?”

Shaking his head, Julio struggled to push himself up onto his elbows. “Señor Calderón was angry that I had returned. Angry that I did not deliver the hay and return the truck to his associate in Serpentine.” Tracy shifted to get behind Julio’s shoulders and help him sit up. “I did not know about the drugs. I swear it.”

Bull picked up a palmful of burnt grass and dirt and crushed it in his fist. “But you’re willing to kidnap an innocent girl?”

The daggers in Tracy’s eyes warned him to keep his emotions in check. “So Calderón was angry with you.” She gently dabbed at the wound on the side of Julio’s head, calmly taking over the interrogation. “And he had his men do this to you?”

“I tried to fight.” Bull was twice as big as this kid, and far better trained, and it had taken everything he had to get rid of Garcia and Ortiz. “Then, I hit my head.”

“More likely someone hit you.” Julio hissed when Bull pulled aside his shaggy mat of hair to inspect the wound. “Looks like the shape of a gun butt to me.”

The boy sucked in a steadying breath and continued. “When I woke up, I was in the truck. Everything was on fire.”

Bull squeezed the teen’s arm, thanking him for keeping it together and answering their questions. “Do you know where this hacienda is? Can you take me there?”

“Bull,” Tracy warned him. “Julio needs to rest. He needs a hospital.”

But the boy had some grit in him that Bull admired. He pushed himself away from Tracy and sat up under his own power. “I know this hacienda. I will take you.” He poked his thumb over his shoulder. “But my truck? It is too far to walk.”

“You can ride double behind me or Tracy...Miss Cobb.” Bull looked beyond the wreckage of the truck to the graying twilight sky. “But the horses need rest.” And despite his dogged determination to rescue Brittany, so did the boy. Getting lost out in the south Texas badlands at night wasn’t a real brilliant idea, anyway. Not with drug runners and coyotes and rocky drop-offs and arroyos hiding in the shadows. First light would be soon enough. Bull nodded, talking to Julio as one man to another. “Let’s make camp on the other side of the creek. There’s grass there for the horses to graze on. We’ll get some food in our bellies and a little sleep, and we’ll head out in the morning.” Bull patted Julio’s shoulder before pushing to his feet. “You rest here for a few minutes while I set up camp and hobble the horses. Then I’ll come back and help you across the creek.”

With a grateful nod, Julio stayed where he was. His shoulders hunched with fatigue and he stretched back out on the ground as soon as Bull moved away. But Tracy shot to her feet, taking the mare’s reins from his hand and falling into step beside him as he led Jericho down into the creek’s shallow current.

“Thank you,” she whispered, glancing back at Julio. “You could have really come down hard on him. He and Brittany both made some stupid choices. And if she’s being treated anything like he was...”

The water swirled around Bull’s ankles as he stopped midstride. “My plan isn’t just about taking care of Julio. We could lose a lot of time returning to the ranch house and coming back this way tomorrow. Besides, once we take this kid into Serpentine, Wyatt’s probably going to want to book him for drug smuggling, aiding and abetting and who knows what else?”

“But his grandmother...”

“Even if charges are dismissed due to extenuating circumstances, that’ll all take time Brittany may not have.”

Tracy’s clear blue eyes darkened with suspicion. “What are you planning, Bull?”

“With Garcia and Ortiz around, and who knows who else, Calderón’s got ears in Serpentine.” He tipped his gaze up over the rocks at the top of the creek bank. “This may be the only chance anyone has to get to Calderón and rescue Brittany without them knowing we’re coming.”

She locked her fingers around his wrist, her gaze purposely dropping to the wound she’d bandaged there. “Don’t you need to call for backup on something like that? Look at what the Los Jaguares have already done to you and Julio. You don’t even know how many men you’d be going up against.”

“Easy, blue eyes.” Bull touched his gloved finger to her sun-kissed cheek and curled that independent lock of sorrel-colored hair around his fingertip. “I’m not going on any suicide mission.” He tucked the curl behind her ear and cupped her jaw, angling her face fully up to his. “I am going in. I’ll scout the place out—get Brittany’s location, where Calderón’s men are stationed. Find out what kind of firepower they have. He has to have cell reception there because he called my father with the ransom demand—and Brittany was with him to deliver the message. I’ll call for backup then.”

“What if something happens? What if you get hurt?” Her hand moved to the middle of his chest, her fingers curling beneath the buttons of his shirt. He liked how she didn’t just touch him. She held on. He liked her holding on to him a whole lot. “Julio is already injured and I’m willing to help, but I’m not a detective. I don’t even have Dad’s hunting rifle with me to help you.”

“I won’t get hurt. And I won’t let anybody else get hurt.” He stroked his thumb across the curve of her bottom lip, soothing her worry. Going after the bad guys was his job. It was his duty as a cop, even if he was more than a thousand miles away from the city stamped on his badge. It was his duty as a McCabe to help bring his sister home. “I promise.”

“Bull...” Her grip tightened in the front of his shirt.

He shushed her concern by lowering his head and pressing his lips against hers. Those urgent fingers clung to the skin and muscle beneath the cotton he wore, and she pulled herself up to deepen the kiss. Her lips softened beneath his. Their tongues touched and danced. The contact was quick. It was deep. It was right. And this time he didn’t question why he’d kissed her. Tomboy Tracy Cobb was his best friend. She always had been. He hoped she always would be.

But he was finally beginning to get it through his hard head that she was also something more.

When he pulled away, Tracy nodded, agreeing to his plan. “Let’s make camp.”