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The Millionaire Cowboy's Secret Page 14
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Page 14
Once again, the choice was hers.
Crossing to her, Matt put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Go back to your trailer, play with your dog and think about what you want to do. We don’t need a decision immediately.”
From the rigid way she held herself, he could well imagine what she’d choose. When she moved away from him, she wouldn’t meet his gaze, reinforcing his hunch.
“All right. I’ll be down at my camper. I’ll let you know later what I’m going to do.”
At the doorway, she turned. “When I get back, I’d like to go for a ride. I find it helps me clear my head. I’ll take out the same mare I rode earlier, if that’s all right with you.”
“No, I’d prefer you didn’t.” Matt smiled to take the edge of his words. “I have another horse I want you to try. We’ll go together.”
Instead of accepting his offer, she narrowed her gaze. “Safely in numbers and all that?”
He nodded.
“I’ll be back in under an hour,” she said. “We’ll ride then.”
Both Matt and José watched in silence as she walked away.
Once she was out of sight—and hearing—José cursed. “I don’t think she’s going to be of any help at all.”
“I agree.” Refusing to let the knowledge get him down, Matt set his jaw. “So we’d better come up with an alternate plan.”
“Yeah, especially since I have news. I didn’t want to tell you in front of her, but I heard from Diego’s man,” José said, his voiced laced with calm resolve. “He’s agreeable to a meeting with you, the sooner the better.”
Matt pushed away the fierce rush of joy. “Where? I refuse to go down to Matamoros.”
“You’re in luck, then. I don’t think they want to take a chance with border patrol. As you suspected, they must have people on this side of the border. He’s sending someone to talk to you.”
Instantly, Matt shook his head. “No good. I meet with Diego himself or no one.”
“Hear me out.” José held up his hand. “This is the first meeting. There’s no way he’s going to handle this himself. It takes time to instill a sense of trust. They’re going to want proof that you can deliver.”
José made sense. Still, he didn’t like it. “Proof? As in what, show them the ammunition?”
“Pretty much,” José said. “We can do that. Blindfold whoever they send, drive him around the ranch and then let him see the ammo.”
“Fine,” Matt agreed, blowing his breath out. “As long as we don’t give them any clue where it’s really hidden.”
“About that,” José said. “I think it’s time to move it off the ranch. Have you given any thought to my idea of renting a warehouse in town?”
Scratching his head, Matt nodded. “I have, though I like the abandoned-cellar idea better. I’ll be honest, though. It sounds too risky. We’d have to move it in secret, in small increments, and there’s a huge chance someone would see it.”
“I take it that’s a no, then?”
“I’ll think about it.” Matt wouldn’t, and they both knew it. “Right now, I think it’s safest where it is.”
With a grimace, José dipped his chin to show he understood. “I’m curious. What are you going to do with all that ammunition once you accomplish what you want?”
Matt smiled. “Donate it, if I can. I’d like to give it to underbudgeted police departments or something.”
Apparently surprised, José gave a grudging nod. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Will you look into that for me?”
“Sure.” José’s expression turned troubled. “What about me?” he asked quietly. “What am I supposed to do once you’re gone?”
“Gone?” Attempting to lighten the mood, Matt gave the man he considered a brother a light punch in the arm. “I have no plans to go anywhere.”
“Humph.” José made a rude noise. “Messing around with La Familia? If you don’t get killed trying to get Diego, you’ll probably end up doing some jail time.”
“Not if I do it right.” Infusing his voice with more optimism than he felt, Matt shook his head. “No worries, old friend. Whatever happens, I’ll make sure you have a job here.”
José looked away, but not before Matt caught a glimpse of something strange crossing his friend’s face.
“What’s wrong, man?” Matt asked.
Jaw rigid, José sighed. “I don’t like this. I think we should have gone with the original plan. It’d be way better if you could get into Mexico and take him down there. Drug-cartel killings are so common there that the policia barely notice them anymore.”
“We already discussed that. Too much risk. Once I shot him, I’d never get away. The cartels have too many eyes. Someone would take me down long before I could make it back across the border.”
“Maybe.” A hint of stubborn defiance sparked in José’s eyes. “But with you being a sharpshooter and all—”
“I’d need a specialized type of weapon, impossible to get through customs and difficult to obtain in Mexico without someone noticing.”
“I could have made arrangements—”
“No.” Matt held up his hand, impatient. “Come on, bro. We’ve talked this to death already. It’s too damn dangerous. Plus, I want him to know why he’s being killed. If I took him out at a distance, he’d never know.”
“Face-to-face is stupid and more dangerous than going down into Mexico,” José shot back. “You are so obsessed with your vengeance that you can’t think clearly.”
“Enough!” Matt growled. Inhaling deeply, he gathered his shredded calm around him like a cloak. “José, I know I’ve offered this before and you’ve refused, but if you want out, you can go with my blessings.”
José looked away, a muscle working in his jaw. “It’s just that I’m worried about you,” he finally ground out. “Neither of these plans is ideal, but I want to minimize your risk.”
“Me, too,” Matt lied. The one thing he always made sure of was that his best friend didn’t know the truth. All Matt lived for was the vengeance. Once Diego Rodriguez was dead, Matt didn’t really care what happened to himself.
“You know,” José pointed out, his voice studiously casual, “if she decides to go along with our plan, Skylar will blame herself if anything happens to you.”
“That’s possible,” Matt said. “But nothing will.”
“Still...”
“She’ll get over it.” Again Matt had to clamp down on his irritation. “We’ve only known each other a week. She’s a strong woman.”
“For a reason.”
Matt stared. “What do you mean?”
“Wait a second.” Turning, José began rummaging in a small stack of folders. “Here we go.” He extracted a copy of what looked like a newspaper article and handed it to Matt. “I did some research. I found this on the internet.”
Dated five years earlier, the story talked about the vicious gunning down of several people in a Dallas bank robbery.
Reading it, at first Matt didn’t see what this had to do with anything. Then he saw the last line.
Among the victims were Robbie and Bryan McLain, the husband and seven-year-old son of Dallas police officer Skylar McLain.
He looked up. José watched him expectantly.
“Her family?” he asked, although he already knew the answer.
“Yeah. I kind of imagine she blames herself.” Like you. José didn’t say the last two words. He didn’t have to.
“Why would she do that?” With a sinking heart, Matt hoped his friend wasn’t right. “It was a random, senseless shooting in a bank robbery gone wrong. There’s no way she could have prevented that.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Just like there’s no—”
“Stop.” Matt held up his hand. “Don’t even go there. I’ll always believe I could have prevented my family’s murder if I’d been there. Nothing you can say will change my mind. You should know that by now.”
Slowly, José shook his head. “Wha
t if she’s like you, amigo? This Skylar McLain also lost her entire family. You don’t know whether or not she blames herself.”
“Why does it matter?”
José turned away. “Listen to you. Since when do you not give a damn about hurting innocents? You already think you have to carry the world on your conscience. How are you gonna feel if she thinks she’s responsible?”
Clinging to the last tatters of his patience, Matt glared at his friend. “Responsible for what?”
“If all of this implodes on you. People could get hurt or worse, killed. Have you considered that?”
That did it. “The only one getting killed is Diego Rodriguez,” Matt said, his tone pitched to let José know he was finished with the discussion.
But as usual, his friend had to have the last word. “I guess you figure anyone else is collateral damage, huh?” he asked before walking out of the room.
* * *
Back in the camper, Skylar picked up her cell phone and stared at it as if its blank screen held the secrets to the universe. She placed it back on the kitchen table and grabbed Talia’s ball. She needed to do something else so she could clear her head.
As usual, her border collie was up for the game. Skylar threw, and Talia leaped and twirled and caught, returning to drop the ball at Skylar’s feet.
Finally, when she thought her pet had gotten a good workout, Skylar whistled and they went back inside the trailer. While Talia slurped water from her bowl, Skylar took a deep breath and picked up her phone.
Could she do this? More important, did she want to?
Stomach churning, she scrolled through her contacts and pulled up the number. Punching Call before she talked herself out of it, she spoke in a low voice to the—thank goodness—recording. She said she’d learned the location of the ammo but, protecting herself, she hadn’t been able to investigate personally to make sure her information was correct.
Then, taking a deep breath, she said she believed the ammunition had been stored in the cellar of the ruined original ranch house. She would investigate as soon as she could and report back.
When she’d finished, she punched the off button and sat staring at her phone, her heart pounding.
She’d done it. Given the first—and hopefully last—false report of her career. She was now in with Matt and José, 100 percent. For bad or for good.
The only bright spot was the one thing she was achingly certain of. If the Mexican drug cartel showed up trying to break into the cellar, she’d know Matt was right and there truly was a mole inside the ATF. That issue would have to be dealt with, as well.
Otherwise, she’d learn she’d been played for a fool.
Dusting her suddenly sweaty hands off on her jeans, she shoved her phone into her pocket and stood. “Be good, Talia,” she said, scratching her pet behind the ears.
Grimacing as another feeling of misgiving swamped her, she left her camper. She’d go find Matt and tell him what she’d done. And then she’d claim that ride.
Matt was waiting where she’d left him, though José was conspicuously absent. He watched her approach, his face completely devoid of expression.
“Hey,” she said softly, holding his gaze and wondering at the unfamiliar softness she felt inside her. “I did like you wanted. I called it in and said I’d learned the ammunition was stored in the cellar of the abandoned house.”
“Thank you.” He reached out as if to touch her, but at the last minute withdrew, leaving her inexplicably aching.
She spoke quickly, needing to fill the awkward void. “Now, how about that ride?”
Her words seemed to bring him back from whatever dark place he’d gone.
“The ride. Yes. But are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, flashing that lopsided smile that made her chest ache anew. “Remember, the last time we tried to go riding, even though it was separately, we got shot at.”
Wishing she could manage to smile back, she nodded. “We also made love.”
He cocked his head, the heat in his gaze making her entire body flush. “That, too. Once again, are you certain you want to go riding?”
The undercurrents swirling between them had her dizzy. The thought of making love with him again... Her breath caught.
Somehow, despite everything, she’d crossed an invisible line. She couldn’t go back. Hell, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to. Resolutely she raised her chin. “Yes, I’m positive. You said you took necessary precautions, right?”
His grin faded, his expression turning grim. “I’ve got men checking all the ranch perimeters, especially near the farm-to-market road. No one can come onto my property without me knowing about it.”
“And,” she put in casually, “there’s nowhere to hide, right?” Even though his stockpile of ammunition remained hidden, no doubt in plain sight.
“Nope.” He didn’t even hesitate, though he had to know what she was talking about. Giving her a hard look that, oddly enough, made her feel as if she’d disappointed him, he beckoned her to follow and headed out the door.
Side by side, they walked to the barn. At first, each lost in their own thoughts, neither spoke. But when they reached the old barn, he threw open the door and turned to her.
“Your choice,” he said quietly. “Any of the mares in this barn. I have a few geldings, as well. I’ll be riding one of them.”
“Not Saint?”
He shook his head. “Not for this ride. Go ahead, choose.”
Feeling like a child faced with a mound of brightly wrapped packages at Christmas, she slowly moved down the barn’s wide aisle.
Several of the horses looked at her, swishing their tails. A few completely ignored her. Only one crossed to the stall door and poked her head out to greet her.
“This one,” Skylar said, stroking the bay mare’s long, black mane.
Matt nodded with approval. “Good choice. That’s Cinna.” He pointed toward a small room toward the back of the barn. “That’s a makeshift tack room. Grab a saddle and halter and bit.”
For the next several minutes, they worked in companionable silence saddling up their mounts. Matt had chosen a big chestnut gelding. Watching him as he worked, his muscular arms stretching his shirt over his broad shoulders, she felt a little shudder of desire deep inside her.
“Are you ready?” he asked, bringing her out of her sensual daze.
Blinking, she swallowed hard before nodding. Slipping the bit into Cinna’s mouth, she secured the halter before leading the mare down the barn’s wide aisle. The clip-clop of hooves sounded both familiar and alien.
Once outside, she stuck her foot in the stirrup and swung her other leg over the horse’s broad back.
Already astride, Matt gave her an unsmiling nod of approval before he put his heels to his horse’s sides and rode out.
“Come on,” he called back over his shoulder.
With a moment’s hesitation—after all, this was the first time she couldn’t separate her ambivalent personal feelings from the detached professionalism the job required—she rode after him.
“We’re going to take the complete tour,” he told her, gesturing toward his saddlebag. “I had the cook pack us a picnic lunch. This will take almost all day.”
Of course, she’d keep an eye out for anything suspicious, and she knew he had to be aware of this. Ergo, he’d most likely keep her far, far away from his secret stash of ammunition.
Although, really, now that she knew what he had planned, maybe he would even show it to her. Now, that, she thought with a wry grimace, would be something.
Chapter 11
Matt eyed Skylar sitting so comfortably on one of his best mares, cursing himself for not considering how badly he’d have to battle temptation around her.
A kiss hadn’t been enough. And sex, powerful, raw and intimate, had done nothing more than stoke the embers of desire to a roaring flame.
He wanted her again. With a fierceness that rivaled his desire for revenge. He’d thought nothing would ever
equal the strength of that.
This craving both worried and enchanted him. Skylar didn’t seem to realize how beautiful and sexy she was with her riot of red hair and emerald-green eyes. Matt, however, could hardly think of anything else.
Focus. Damn, this was the worst time for him to be infatuated with a woman, the absolute worst. No matter what, he needed to hold it all together and keep his sights trained on his goal. No way was he messing it up when he was so close.
The sun was warm and the slight breeze kept it from feeling too hot. Though he tried to relax, he couldn’t. His senses had gone into a sort of hyperaware overdrive and his chest ached with the effort to appear nonchalant.
“Where are we going?” Riding up alongside him, Skylar handled her horse with the natural seat of a born horsewoman.
“I told you, the grand tour. I’m going to take you to see everything.” He managed to smile at her, hoping he at least appeared more relaxed than he felt.
“Everything?” She smiled back, starting a slow burn in his groin. He’d just about decided to try to relax and enjoy the day when she cocked her head and gave him a quizzical look.
“When you say everything, do you mean you’re you going to show me where the ammo is stored?”
As far as lust-killers went, this one was a doozy.
He supposed he should be grateful. Instead, he could barely contain his irritation. “Why would I want to do that?”
She lifted her chin in that obstinate little gesture he was coming to know. “Why not? I stuck my neck out for you. I lied to my superior. I think I at least deserve to see it.”
Reining his horse to a halt, he eyed her. “Why? Why would you even want to?”
If he expected her to fumble for a response, he was wrong. “To prove to myself it’s really there. All this time, with the ATF claiming to have proof that you’ve amassed a stockpile, I’ve been searching for it. Now you’ve leveled with me and we’re on equal footing. I think I have a right to see it.”
Inhaling deeply, he hoped his grimness wasn’t reflected in his expression. “That doesn’t even make sense. Tell me the rest. Again, why do you want to see my ammo?”