Hot on His Trail, page 7
The cattle drive. The bargain. The hard wooden belly of the chuck wagon underneath her. It all came rushing back into her sleep-numbed brain.
Stars twinkled at her through the keyhole opening of the chuck wagon. Calley stood up, then gathered up the bedroll, hitting her elbow against a cast-iron skillet hanging beside her.
“Crap,” she whispered, then realized she didn’t need to be so quiet. With the cowboys still asleep, no one could hear her.
She stumbled over a crack in the floorboards and hit her knee sharply on a storage trunk. Muttering an oath, she fished around the top shelf for a book of matches. How in the world did Matt Radcliffe expect her to make coffee in the dark of night?
She finally found them, then turned and headed out of the chuck wagon, smacking her forehead on one of the smoked hams hanging from the top of the wagon.
She’d gathered plenty of brush for last night’s fire, so it didn’t take her long to start a small blaze under the iron grate. Then she retrieved the clean coffeepot from the chuck wagon and headed toward the stream. Something slithered in the tall grass in front of her, making Calley jump two feet in the air.
She stopped and looked carefully around her, unable to see much of anything in the dark. In the distance, she could make out the vague shapes of the cattle. And the Gunns’ pup tent under a lone mesquite tree. The lumps stretched out near the campfire must be the rest of the crew.
Calley turned back toward the stream, tentatively sticking her foot out and dipping it in the grass. She had no desire to interrupt the sleep of a coiled rattlesnake or some other wild animal.
With one slow, tedious step at a time she moved toward the stream, her eyes glued on the ground in front of her. The steady gurgle of running water soothed her nerves a little and she had to admit the predawn morning was incredibly peaceful. It was almost hard to believe that somewhere there were bustling cities full of all-night diners and honking taxicabs. Places with airplanes and buses and trains running twenty-four hours a day. At one time, the West had been exactly like this place, with nothing but the rustle of grass to break the silence. It was exactly the same here as it had been one hundred years ago. Perhaps even five hundred years ago. She looked up at the stars, wondering who else had looked at them from this very same spot.
“Good morning.”
Calley yelped and spun around, her heart pounding in her chest. Matt Radcliffe sat up on his horse not five feet behind her. “Oh, it’s you.”
He cocked a brow. “Expecting someone else?”
“Of course not.” She placed one hand on her chest and took a slow deep breath. “I wasn’t expecting anyone at this hour. What are you doing up?”
“We take turns on nightshift to watch the herd.”
“You mean you didn’t sleep at all?”
“A few hours after supper.”
She tilted her head up at him. “Why do you have to stay up all night. Afraid of rustlers?”
A smile tipped up one corner of his mouth. “You’ve been watching too many westerns on television.”
Calley smiled. “I grew up on Gunsmoke reruns.”
She didn’t tell him that there’d been little else for her to do after her heart condition had been diagnosed. Forbidden from attending school or participating in any extracurricular activities such as sports or even 4-H club, Calley had turned to television. It had been her only form of escape.
“The main reason we patrol the herd at night is to prevent any cattle from wandering off. Most of them are content to stay put after traveling that many miles. But I don’t want to waste daylight looking for strays.”
“Where exactly are we headed?” she asked suddenly realizing how very little she knew about this cattle drive. Or the man in charge of it. When Finders Keepers had hired her to find him, they’d just given her a glimpse of his past. She had no idea what had made him the man he was today. Strong. Stubborn. Sexy. With a touch of old-fashioned chivalry thrown in that reminded her a little of another Matt. Sheriff Matt Dillon from Gunsmoke.
“The Lazy R ranch just west of Jacksboro, Texas.”
“Deb told me this cattle drive is part of a bet made by, Boyd’s uncle, Rufus Tupper.”
He nodded. “A bet I intend to win.”
She studied him for a moment.
“Why is that so important to you?”
He hesitated. “Because if I win, Tupper will pay me enough money to buy a ranch of my own and I won’t have to work for fools like him anymore.”
She took the lid off the coffeepot, then bent down at the edge of the stream and allowed the crystal clear water to flow inside. “Were you born a cowboy, Matt?”
“Not exactly.” He didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Although I was raised on a horse ranch.”
She waited for him to elaborate, but instead he turned Jericho around and headed back to the herd. “Let me know when that coffee’s ready.”
Calley watched him ride off, wondering if she’d said something to offend him. She’d never met a man of so few words, but then, she hadn’t met many men in her life. Certainly not any as intriguing as Matt Radcliffe.
After she set the coffeepot on the fire grate to percolate, she retrieved a tattered cookbook she’d discovered in the bottom of one of the storage trunks last night. It looked at least fifty years old, but she couldn’t confirm a publication date because the copyright page had been torn out.
The cookbook was chock-full of recipes for life on the trail. Dishes like Son-of-a-Gun Stew, Vinegar Pie and Grits-n-Gravy. For breakfast she’d selected a simple dish that looked hearty enough to make up for last night’s meager offering.
She hauled a Dutch oven from the chuck wagon and set it on the grate next to the coffeepot. Then she dumped in chunks of bacon, the fat sizzling and sending a savory aroma into the morning air. Tears stung her eyes as she chopped a bowl full of onions and added them to the pot. Next, she peeled two dozen potatoes, slicing them thin and layering them on top of the onions and bacon. Then she set the lid on top and let the fire do the rest of the work.
A while later, Boyd walked up to the campfire, wearing only blue jeans and cowboy boots. “Something smells damn good.”
“It’ll be ready soon.” She poured him a cup of coffee. “I want to thank you for pretending you liked my supper last night. I hope this morning you won’t have to lie when you tell me it’s wonderful.”
A flush crawled up Boyd’s cheeks. “Cliff gave me some of his wife’s cookies, so it wasn’t like I had to starve or anything. Besides, it was fun to see that look on Radcliffe’s face when all of us started to rave about your cooking.”
Calley used a pot holder to lift the lid of the Dutch oven and give the contents a stir. “Are you enjoying the cattle drive?”
He grinned at her. “I am now.”
“Boyd!” Matt strode up to the campfire, a scowl on his face. “Go put a shirt on. We’ve got enough hardships on this drive without having to watch you strut around half-naked.”
Boyd’s flush deepened as he glanced at Calley. “Yes, sir.”
After he walked away, Matt turned to her. “Is there a problem?”
“Yes. And I think it’s you.”
He pointed to the east, where the sun was barely peeking over the horizon “It’s almost time to break camp. The boys are ready. The cattle are ready. Hell, even the mules look ready. The only thing that isn’t ready is you.”
“Is that why you bit Boyd’s head off?”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “I think you’re distracting my crew.”
She reached for the coffeepot and poured him a cup. “And I think you’re suffering from an empty stomach and not enough sleep.”
“I wish it was that simple,” he muttered, then took the cup from her and blew on the steaming coffee. “Maybe we should start over.”
“Okay,” she said with a smile. “Good morning, Matt.”
He gave her a reluctant smile. “Good morning, Calley.”
She lifted the lid off the Dutch oven. “Breakfast is ready if you’re hungry.”
“I’m starved.” But he wasn’t looking at the food she dished up. He was looking at her. Then the rest of the crew ambled over to the campfire and Matt turned and took a seat on one of the crates.
Calley dished up full plates for everyone, serving herself last. Pride welled up within her after she took the first bite.
“It’s delicious,” she announced, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice.
Everyone else was too busy chewing to reply. For the first time, Calley believed she might be able to pull this off.
“Let’s roll out,” Matt said, handing her his empty plate.
“I need to wash dishes first.” She removed the Dutch oven and coffeepot from the grate.
“There’s no time,” he replied. “You can do it when we make camp tonight.”
She frowned down at the scorch marks in the bottom of the Dutch oven. “Do you have any idea how hard this pot and the rest of these dishes will be to clean by then?”
“That’s not my problem.” A hopeful gleam lit his eyes. “It won’t be your problem either, if you decide to go back where you came from.”
Calley had known from the beginning that Matt didn’t want her here, but his remark stung anyway. She’d wanted to prove to him she could handle this job. Any job. Obviously, it was going to take more than one good breakfast to do it.
She forced a smile. “That’s all right. I’ll manage.”
“Suit yourself.”
He walked away and Calley had to resist the urge to throw the coffeepot at his head. She was probably just tired, too. Sleeping in a strange bedroll, on the hard floor of a strange chuck wagon, in a strange state, wasn’t exactly conducive to a good night’s sleep.
But it was the most excitement she’d had in a very long time.
Calley dumped the dirty dishes in an empty crate, then hauled it to the chuck wagon. After she’d gathered all her supplies, she reached for her purse and dug out the prescription bottle she’d carried with her for too many years to remember. She popped the familiar red-and-white capsule into her mouth, then washed it down with the last of her lukewarm coffee.
She had no intention of letting a bunch of dirty dishes, a cantankerous cowboy or a bum heart keep her from having the time of her life.
* * *
MATT WAITED until the cattle were moving before he rode up beside Boyd. “We need to have a talk.”
“Talk away,” Boyd said, holding the reins loosely in his hands.
“This is a cattle drive, not a cotillion. If you want to flirt with the ladies, wait until we arrive in Jacksboro. I have neither the time nor the inclination to monitor a romance on the range.”
Boyd stuck out his lower lip. “I don’t recall asking for your help, Radcliffe. For your information, I’ve had plenty of experience with women. And as long as I do my job, I don’t think my love life is any of your business.”
“Everything on this cattle drive is my business. And love doesn’t belong on the range.”
Boyd smirked. “Then why do Davis and Deb sleep in a pup tent when the rest of us sleep under the stars? Maybe they need this love on the range lecture, too.”
“Just stay away from Calley,” Matt said, his patience reaching the breaking point. “And keep a better eye on the perimeter. You let too many steers get past you yesterday.”
Boyd’s mouth thinned. “I’m new at this, you know. So is Calley. That’s why we get along so good. And if you don’t like it, you can just…” His voice trailed off.
“I can just what?” Matt asked, itching for a reason to send Boyd back to his uncle.
“Forget it.”
“I think you’re forgetting something.” He spoke low and even, determined not to let Boyd Tupper make him lose his temper. Especially over a woman. “I’m the trail boss on this drive. My word is law.”
He swallowed. “And if the lady comes to me?”
Matt snorted. “That isn’t going to happen.”
“We’ll see,” Boyd muttered under his breath as he wheeled his horse away from Matt. “We’ll just see about that.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“HE TURNED you down?” Dylan Garrett sat in his office at Finders Keepers, keeping one eye on the clock on the wall. His guest was due to arrive soon.
Bill Simms leaned back in his chair. “That’s right. Matt Radcliffe doesn’t care about Violet Mitchum’s will or any bequest she might have left him.”
“I thought the hard part would be finding him,” Dylan mused. “Not bringing him back to Pinto.”
“The guy’s got a real chip on his shoulder. I almost felt bad for leaving Miss Graham there with him.”
Dylan blinked. “Calley found him, too?”
“About five minutes before I did,” Bill admitted. “But he’d already turned her down when I showed up. I guess she decided to stick around awhile and see if she could persuade him to change his mind. But I’ve been around his kind before. Too mule-headed for their own good, if you know what I mean.”
He knew exactly what Bill meant. Dylan had been described as mule-headed a time or two himself. Not that he was anywhere near as stubborn as his twin sister. Fortunately that family trait was paying off for Lily. Her determination to keep her baby had resulted in encouraging news at her last doctor’s visit. Only a few more weeks of bedrest and she might be able to resume most of her normal activities.
“Sure was strange seeing her again,” Bill said.
Dylan realized he hadn’t been paying attention. “Who?”
“Calley Graham. I met her about ten years back at a benefit. Her dad Walt Graham and I were both cops on the police force. He took about a year’s leave when his daughter got so sick. I remember covering more than one shift for him.” A smile haunted his mouth. “I haven’t seen the Grahams in almost a decade. Seeing Calley again brings back a lot of old memories.”
Dylan momentarily forgot about his real reason for asking Bill to come here. Calley Graham seemed perfectly healthy to him. “What happened to her?”
“A dud ticker. She was right as a raindrop until she turned fifteen. Then one day she keeled over and they had her hooked up to a bunch of machines in the hospital before the day was out.”
“Are you telling me she has a heart condition?”
“Yeah, the name for it is some fifty-dollar word that I can’t spell, much less pronounce. Considering her prognosis at the time, I figured she’d be dead by now.”
A knock sounded on the door, then his office assistant stuck her head inside. “Sebastian Cooper is here to see you.”
Dylan nodded. “Give me a few minutes, Carolyn, then send him in.”
Bill Simms started to rise.
“I’d like you to stay,” Dylan said, waving him back into the chair. “That is, if you’re interested in doing some more work for me. I’ll even pay you this time.”
Bill laughed, then shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve decided I’m too old to be traipsing all over the country.”
“This case is local. And sensitive. I think a former officer with the San Antonio PD is just the man for the job.”
“What exactly do you want me to do?” Bill asked, settling back in his chair
“There’s a man named Sebastian Cooper outside. His wife has been missing for over a year. He claims he wants to find her, but I’ve got reason to believe he’s connected to J. B. Crowe’s crime ring. So her life may be in danger.”
“Crowe’s in prison, isn’t he?”
Dylan nodded. “Yes, but according to Zach Logan, Crowe’s got his second in command running things on the outside. A thug named Luke Silva.”
“So you want me to find the dirt on Cooper?”
“Yes. You could start by searching his personal and business finances. See if anything suspicious turns up.”
“Then what?”
“Sniff around Luke Silva. I want to know if they’ve met or done any business deals together.”
“Anything else?”
Dylan nodded. “Sebastian wants Finder Keepers to find his wife. I plan to tell him I’m bringing you in on the case.”
“Okay. Where do you want me to look for her?”
“Nowhere.”
Bill blinked. “Come again.”
Dylan studied Simms, wondering how much he could trust him. The last thing he wanted to do was put Julie in any more danger. “At this point, I want you to agree to take the case, but not do any actual investigation.”
“And if he wants a progress report?”
“Phony up some leads. Like possible sightings in different states.”
Simms smiled. “You want to send him on a wild-goose chase.”
“For now.”
The door opened and Sebastian Cooper walked in.
Dylan noted the new lines around his eyes and the sallowness in his complexion. The last few months had taken a toll on his old friend. He’d almost feel sorry for Sebastian if he didn’t know the hell the man had put Julie through.
