A Man of Legend, page 8
“You might need me. It’d be best if I tag along.”
“Can’t let you do that.” He motioned to the page she’d torn from her journal. “Write your note and put it in the stump, then get going.”
Pouting, she did as he requested, albeit with a great deal of reluctance. The note in place, she turned for home.
Only after she was out of sight did Crockett set his course with no clear agenda in mind. This was a reconnaissance mission only.
Unless certain opportunities presented themselves.
***
Paisley sat on her bed, reading her mother’s journal. It seemed she was moving along a dark path, trying to find her way with nothing making sense. There were so many garbled entries containing strange words that fit nothing. Her mother seemed to be talking about land with the mention of two hundred and fifty-eight hectares.
Wait. That equaled one section of land.
Was Caroline talking about the section she lost to the Legends?
In the next sentence, she wrote, “Ask and you shall receive.”
There was Stoker’s name again with the word envelope next to it inside a square.
What on earth? Paisley rubbed her eyes and closed the book. Maybe Farrel was right, and their mother had been in some sort of delirium.
Drawn by the need for some fresh night air, she threw a shawl around her shoulders and stepped out the back door. The fragrant scent whispered against her face, and she inhaled the sweetness that reminded her of another time with Crockett. He’d thrown pebbles at her window to get her attention and talked her into taking a night ride with him.
He’d just returned from Fort Worth and the cattle broker job he’d had there for a short while. She’d been excited, hoping he’d settle down on the Lone Star where she could work with the ranch doctor.
Enthralled with the tall, handsome cowboy, she climbed on a mare he’d brought for her, and they rode to the bluff overlooking the Red River. For hours, they talked and kissed in the moonlight, and she’d felt so special. Love for him had beat inside her heart as she listened to his voice.
Until the blinders came off and she’d seen that he had more love and passion for his plans and his acceptance into law school than he’d ever had for her.
He’d only brought her along to listen to his plans, and it had crushed her.
That had been a hard lesson to learn, and now he no longer held the ability to hurt her. She’d grown into a woman with a career and goals of her own.
Still, she knew he’d be there in a moment if she should need him. A quiet promise came back to her. If you ever find yourself in need of a friend, send word. I’ll be there in a heartbeat.
Yes, he would. She had no doubt about that at all. A few times she’d been tempted to send word. To lay her head on his broad shoulders, his arms around her, just having a friend to help would’ve been worth everything.
She stared up at the moon and wondered what her life might’ve been like had she married Crockett. Would he have gotten so carried away with court cases and only remembered her when hunger pangs had hit? Would she have existed at all? Maybe the nights would’ve been just as lonely as they were now.
But that wasn’t quite fair to only think of one outcome.
Perhaps he’d have made an attentive, loving husband, driving her to distraction with hot kisses, his hard body filling her, murmuring sweet words in her ear.
Paisley gave herself a firm shake. Stop it. That’s not the way it turned out.
Some things no amount of wishing could change. Life had moved on, and she wasn’t that schoolgirl with stars in her eyes.
Nine
Silence enveloped Crockett as he and Cato made their way toward the Mahone house. Every nerve had stretched to the breaking point. The smallest noise sounded like a gunshot. Danger, sharp and thick, crawled up his neck. Farrel could catch him and be within his rights to shoot him. A lantern up ahead wove through the brush. He dismounted and looped Cato’s reins around a mesquite branch.
It never occurred to him to turn around. Paisley needed him, and he meant to get to her.
On foot was slower but far safer. Light from the lantern was coming closer. What were they looking for? Paisley? Maybe she’d struck out, determined to get help.
He knelt and took the gun from his boot. As he progressed, his heel dislodged a rock and sent it tumbling down an embankment. Dammit! He froze, listening.
“What was that?” a man asked from approximately thirty-five yards away.
A snarl came from his companion. “Probably a night animal. Quit jumping.”
“It’s spooky out here, and the Legends are a stone’s throw away. Why did I let Farrel talk me into this? The man’s a lunatic. I can’t believe half of what he says. Do you really think we’ll get rich by the time this is over?”
Crockett frowned. Rich? From what?
A grunt came from the second speaker. “I’m going to stick around and find out.”
“All I’m saying is remember how him and his old man tricked us before with talk of taking everything the Legends have? Hell, they got more today than they ever had.”
“And some of it has got to be from dirty dealings,” the partner snapped.
“Remind me again why we’re out here.”
“Keeping an eye out for trespassers. We might get lucky and get us a Legend. Or that sister of Farrel’s. I heard him say he’d just as soon she be deep in a grave.” The speaker laughed. “But I’d sure like to get her naked and have some fun first. Whoo-ee!”
“That sister is sure a pretty little filly. I wouldn’t mind finding out how wild she is.”
Crockett’s blood ran cold. If anyone tried to hurt Firefly, he’d make sure they regretted it.
The two moved on, their light bobbing with each step. He’d give them a wide berth. He moved slowly toward the house, taking each step slow and careful. There wasn’t much cover to hide behind. Plus, the moon was too full. But living in darkness behind his bandages for a week had sharpened his night vision. He needed no lantern.
The back of the house came into view. Crockett ducked behind the corner of the saggy barn and studied it. Dim light shone in the kitchen and again in a room to his left.
Where was the dog? He distinctly remembered one. The pooch would give him away. He waited quietly for a while, and when a dog didn’t appear, he stole forward.
Now that he was here, what was the next move? He couldn’t very well stride up and knock.
One thing was clear though. He wasn’t leaving without talking to Paisley.
Busy contemplating the problem, he almost missed a shadow that emerged from the house and walked toward him. He caught the flash of a skirt. Farrel’s wife? He couldn’t recall her name. Just then the moonlight tangled in a wealth of blond hair.
Paisley.
Crockett readied himself, and before she reached him, he stepped out, clapping his hand over her mouth. “I won’t hurt you.”
She gasped, her scream silenced by his palm. He led her behind the dilapidated barn. “It’s me—Crockett.”
At her nod, he removed his hand. “I read the note you left at the stump.”
She pushed her hood back. “I thought your mother would get that.” Paisley touched his face. “Your eyes. Are they well?”
“Getting there. Doc removed my bandages tonight.”
“I’m so glad you can see. That’s wonderful.”
He lifted a strand of silky gold. “Makes two of us. I hope you don’t mind that I came instead. It’s too dangerous for my mother.”
God, she looked even more beautiful than he remembered. Her light-green eyes had turned silvery gray in the dim light, and the freckle to the right of her mouth seemed to wink at him. But that was probably his imagination. In any event, the frost in her voice was gone, and for that he was extremely thankful.
“You shouldn’t be here.” She moistened her lips. “Farrel hates you.”
“I know but I had to come.” He drank in the sight of her and had heck remembering what to say. “In the note you left at the stump, you said you might have some information.”
“Yes. I do think our water is poisoned, but not by your family. I think Farrel did it, but not on purpose. He’s been drilling holes all over our land, and I think something leached into the groundwater. Not sure what though.”
His thoughts raced. “A special ranger from the Cattle Raiser’s Association arrived around suppertime. He’ll come out in the morning to test your water.”
She shook her head. “Farrel won’t let him on the property.”
“Why? This is crazy.” He silently cussed a blue streak. “Doesn’t he want to find out how your father died?”
“That’s the thing, Crockett. I think he must know. He’s been hauling water from upstream of the creek. But I’m worried about his son, Tye. The boy doesn’t seem himself.”
“How do you mean?”
“He’s sluggish, and his eyes have sunk back in his head. I think it’s the water.” She moved closer. “Then I overheard a snippet of conversation between Farrel and this stranger that keeps showing up. They were talking about drilling.”
“Where and for what?” Surprise rippled through him. The man must’ve lost his mind. Still, everything was starting to make sense. The conversation he’d heard between the two men on patrol of getting rich burst into his head.
Only one thing at the present came to his mind—oil.
“Have you heard him mention anything about oil?” Crockett scanned the dark landscape but had no idea what he was looking for.
“Not that I’ve heard. But strangers started showing up, and I’ve seen holes they leave in the ground and also some pieces of equipment that come to a point. To my untrained eye, they seem to be used for drilling.” Paisley’s face tightened. “Crockett, Farrel has become so angry, and he’s focused on that section of land that once belonged to Mama. Now that my father is gone and no one to stop him, I’m afraid of what he’ll do.”
The strong urge to tell her that land was probably hers rose up. Damn that promise to his grandpa!
“Even if oil is there, how does he think he’s going to get it?”
“I’m not sure.” She bit her lip. “What’s going on, Crockett?”
“You can bet I’ll find out.” The teasing freckle next to her mouth drew him. The powerful yearning to kiss her rocked him. He settled for running a knuckle across her cheek. “Right now, we have to concentrate on your water supply. I don’t want you or the others getting sick. Make sure no one drinks of the well water.”
“I only drank a little from the well before I started going upstream of the creek. Now we haul water in.” She lightly touched his arm. “Do you think Farrel’s contaminated all of this?”
“It’s a possibility. For sure something probably has.” Crockett reached for her, only to have her back up. “I’ve missed you, Paisley. You’re all I think about.”
Her eyes blazed. “Stop right there. You and I are over. Remember?”
“I don’t have a bad enough memory to forget. I was such a fool.” The fragrance of her hair brushed his face. “Do you ever remember our time together? I wish I could go back.”
Through the years, he was attracted to several women, but they didn’t have Paisley’s laughter, her smile, her intelligent mind. In the end, he walked away, unwilling to settle for less.
“We can’t go back, and that’s that. It does no good to remember what can never be.”
Her stare held sadness and maybe some regret. He liked to think so. “Do you believe in second chances?”
“I can’t afford to,” she whispered. “It hurts too much.”
“I was too young to know what I was throwing away. My idea of a wife was to take care of my needs and be there at night.” He released a snort. “I was an arrogant bastard. It took losing you to see my stupidity.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. We were both to blame. I had my own flawed ideas of what marriage was.”
The light touch of her fingertips on his jaw brought exquisite torture. He closed his eyes, savoring the soft caress. What he wouldn’t give to erase the past, to love again with the passion and fire burning inside. Paisley Mahone deserved all that and more.
When he opened his eyes, he found her studying him, a ghost of a smile curving her lips. “What?”
“I used to imagine a life with you.” The puff of a breeze carried her quiet words that seemed to accuse, but he didn’t know of what.
“What are you saying exactly?”
“It never would’ve worked.”
Silence fell between them, giving him a moment to shrug and digest that. “Who’s to know?”
Again, they lapsed into silence.
“Too much has happened. I met someone else while I was away.” Her low voice was sad. “He was kind and considerate to a fault with only a faint trace of obstinance.”
“What happened, Paisley?”
“He wasn’t you.”
The whispered words barely reached him, and for a moment, he wondered if he’d heard them at all. He was about to ask her to repeat them when the sudden slamming of the back door froze their conversation.
Farrel called, “Sis, where are you? I thought I saw you come out here.”
Paisley turned white. “If he finds you here, there’ll be trouble.”
“He won’t.” Crockett put his arm around her and drew her close, his lips on her temple. “You deserve so much more than this. So much more than me.”
“Shhh! Quiet, he’s coming.”
Ominous footsteps crunched on the rocky ground, getting closer and closer. The sound was filled with foreboding.
Farrel called. “Paisley?”
“Let me go out there and create a diversion,” she whispered and took a step.
Crockett tightened his grip on her. “I’ll be fine.”
Though she was trembling, he felt her backbone straighten. He was about to slip away into the blackness when men’s voices reached them.
“Have you seen my sister?” Farrel sounded impatient and frustrated.
“Nope. Not tonight.” The voice sounded like one of the two men guarding the back that Crockett had encountered.
Another man spoke up. “Are you sure she’s not in the house?”
“Hell! If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t be asking, now would I?” Farrel snapped.
“She’s only one woman, Farrel. Can’t you control her?”
With that, the men moved away, their conversation becoming muffled.
Crockett chuckled quietly. They didn’t know her very well.
“No one controls me, least of all my brother,” Paisley muttered low and pressed her body against his chest. “Let him try.”
She needed to get madder than a hornet because that might be what saved her. “If you go around to the front and slip inside, he’ll never know that you weren’t in the house all along.”
Her pretty face tilted back, and her moist lips slightly parted. He could no more resist the impulse to kiss her than he could push away a thick, juicy steak.
“For the good times,” he said low, his voice rough.
A palm anchored gently under her jaw, he settled his lips on hers and tasted the fragrance of her mouth. She stiffened at first then relaxed, clinging to his light coat. For a moment, the years melted away, and they were the same two people they once were.
Needing. Taking. Giving.
For a moment, he thought he saw a firefly blinking inside his line of vision. Crazy.
The beat of her wild heart sent a sudden, sweeping heat down his body. A shiver of wanting curled along his spine, promising no sleep for him this night.
“I need you, Paisley. Words can lie, but your body hasn’t forgotten me,” he whispered against her temple. “When this is over…”
“Nothing has changed. I’ve moved on. You should too.” She pulled free, the ends of her silky blond hair feather-brushing his arm. “You need to go before they come back.”
His nod was probably a little too abrupt to cover the awkward silence. But he wanted to say something more. Only what? He held her beautiful gaze. She seemed loath to go. He cleared his throat, but the quiet words still came out husky. “Thanks for giving me a few moments. Between us, we’ll figure this out. Meanwhile, don’t drink the well water.”
“Be careful, Crockett. About the kiss…” Her words trailed off.
“I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I couldn’t help myself. Let’s save this for another time, another place.”
Sudden voices rent the breeze. Farrel and the men.
“Go, Crockett!” Her whisper held urgency. “Hurry.”
“Good night, Paisley.” Crockett melted back into the darkness and just in time.
Hunched down low, half-hidden by a barrel, he watched Farrel stomp around the corner of the house and draw up in surprise when he saw Paisley. The sharp breath hissing through her teeth reached him. Dammit! He should get going instead of hanging around, yet he had to make sure Farrel wouldn’t hurt her.
If the man lifted a hand, Crockett would pounce on top of him in an instant, and to hell with his own welfare. She came first. Always would from now on.
The ill-tempered brother marched to her, with his friend John Barfield following behind. John was two years younger than Crockett, and he knew the Barfield family well. John had been in and out of trouble all his life.
“Where have you been?” Farrel asked.
Paisley seemed to take a moment to gather strength, but her angry words covered any fear. “I’m right here. What is your problem?”
