Cowboy to the Rescue (3 page)

“I think we've both said enough,” she said in a choked voice.

He grimaced ruefully. “No. I'm sorry, Christina. Really sorry.”

She bent her head and instinctively he gathered her to him in a gentle hug. “If I sounded callous a bit earlier, forgive me. I didn't know you'd lost anyone. I mean, I didn't stop to think—except about my own feelings.”

She pushed out a long breath, and he closed his eyes as it skittered warmly against the side of his neck.

“This—you and I—is going all wrong, Lex. Maybe my coming here—asking you to work with me—is asking too much of you,” she said. Then easing herself away from the circle of his arms, she opened the door and left him standing on the patio.

B
y the time Lex gathered himself enough to go after her, Christina was already heading back to the front porch and his mother.

Fortunately, he caught the woman before she reached the foyer and, with a hand around her fragile wrist, led her stiff, unyielding body over to a chesterfield couch.

“No matter what you think of me at this moment,” he said as he eased down beside her, “I can't allow you to go out there and tell Mom the two of us can't work together.”

One copper-colored brow arched upward. “Give me one good reason not to,” she requested.

“I don't want to hurt her. Not for any reason.”

Approval flickered in her eyes, and Lex was surprised at how good the sight of it made him feel.

“I'm glad you're putting her feelings first,” she said.

“I promise you, Christina,” he said, “I always care about my mother's feelings. I just…this whole thing about digging into Dad's death is hard for me. But I promise to help you in any way I can.”

Her hand reached over and covered his, and Lex had the greatest urge to lift her fingers to his lips, to taste her smooth skin. But he didn't. He could already see that she was intelligent and strong-minded, not the sort of woman he could easily charm into a brief, pleasant beguilement.

“Thank you for that, Lex,” she said quietly and started to rise.

Lex caught her by the hand, causing her gaze to lift to his. The direct connection jolted him in a way that felt totally odd. Being with Christina Logan was making him feel like a teenage virgin, which was a bit ridiculous. He'd made love to many attractive females before. There wasn't any reason for Christina to be raising his pulse rate just by looking him in the eye.

“Just a minute, Christina. I—” He passed his thumb along the back of her hand and momentarily savored the feel of her creamy skin. “I just wanted to say how sorry I am about your brother. I can't imagine what it must feel like—the not knowing about him.”

She let out a heavy breath, and from the shadows that suddenly crossed her face, Lex could plainly see the emotional toll the tragedy had taken on her.

“The not knowing is the worst part,” she admitted.

The need to help her, to ease her grief somehow, hit Lex in a totally unexpected way, and for a brief second, the feeling staggered him. “I'd like for you to tell me about him sometime,” he invited.

“Sometime, I will.” Smiling wanly, she pulled her hand away from his grasp and rose to her feet. “I think now we'd better join your mother before she begins to wonder where we've gotten off to.”

 

The next morning Christina was sitting in a small office located on the west side of the house. Information regarding Paul Saddler's case was stacked on the floor in countless cardboard boxes and plastic storage containers. But at the moment she wasn't digging through any of it. Instead, she was on the phone to a friend.

Olivia Mills was a criminal lawyer, an associate of the San Antonio firm of Mills, Wagner & Murray. Several years ago, when Christina had stumbled onto some information that had proved a client of Olivia's innocent, the two women had become fast friends. And when Christina had decided to go into the private investigation business, Olivia had encouraged her to get an office in the same building as the firm's. As a result, Christina picked up many of the investigative jobs the firm often required.

“So tell me about the place,” Olivia urged. “Is it anything like you expected?”

Christina settled back in the leather desk chair. “Not exactly. It's much larger than I imagined. If you drove forty miles in any direction you'd probably still be on Sandbur land. In fact, the ranch is organized into two divisions. The one with the house and working ranch yard, where I'm staying, is called the Goliad Division, and the western half of the property is the Mission River Division.”

“Incredible. What's the house like?”

“Grandeur, but comfortable. It's a two-story hacienda and so large that I couldn't begin to count the number of rooms it has.”

“Sounds like a lot of old money.”

“It is. But these people are very unpretentious and laid-back, Ollie.”

“That would be a relief for me.”

Yes, it was a relief that the Saddlers weren't snobs. But maybe it would have been easier on her state of mind if Lex had been a snooty sort of person, she thought. Picking up a pencil, Christina began to doodle in a small open notebook. “So far they've treated me very nearly like family.”

“Lucky dog,” Olivia replied. “None of this sounds like work to me. I've always wanted to visit a big working ranch—just to see if those cowboys look as good in the rough as they do in pictures.”

Christina bit back a sigh. She should be thanking God for this cushy job, which had virtually fallen into her lap, but this morning she wasn't at all convinced that she should be here. Not because she doubted her ability to find the cause of Paul's questionable death, but more because of the impact Lex Saddler was having upon her. She couldn't get the man out of her head.

“Believe me, Ollie, this case is not exactly simple. I'm going to have my work cut out for me.”

“So you don't know how long you'll be staying on the ranch?”

She began to draw a horse, then a man wearing a pair of chaps. “No longer than necessary. I want to wrap this thing up as quickly as possible.”

There was a long pause, and she could hear a frown in Olivia's voice when the other woman finally spoke.

“Is anything wrong? I've never heard you talk this way before. Normally, you're happily willing to invest whatever time it takes to wrap up a job.”

Christina glanced at the open door to the office while wondering if any of the maids or family members might be within earshot. To be on the safe side, she lowered her voice to nearly a whisper. “Ollie, I'm just not comfortable here. Ms. Saddler's son is not at all what I expected. In fact, he's been—quite a shock.”

“Oh?” Olivia sounded intrigued. “What's wrong with the man?”

Christina pressed the fingertips of her right hand to her forehead. She'd hardly gotten four hours of sleep last night, and the lack of rest was already catching up to her. “If you don't count single, sexy and flirtatious as problems, then he's okay. I thought he was going to be a businessman, Ollie. And he is—but he's not exactly the desk sort. He's a cowboy. He wears boots and spurs and gets sweaty and dusty just like the other cowhands.”

Olivia chuckled. “My, oh my, that sounds like a handful of assets to me.”

Christina rolled her eyes. “You would think so. But I'm trying to keep my mind on business.”

The other woman let out a disapproving groan. “You
always
have business on your mind. Maybe this—what's his name?”

Christina smiled in spite of herself. “Lex. His name is Lex Saddler.”

“Maybe this Lex will remind you that you're a young, beautiful woman ready for a new man in your life.”

Christina didn't know if she'd ever be ready for another man, but she wasn't going to waste time rehashing the old argument with her dear friend.

“I've got a ton of work to get started on, Ollie. I'll see you later in the week. I think I've got a handle on your missing witness, so I might be able to give you his definite whereabouts then.”

“Great. We'll talk more when you get back to the city. But before you hang up just remember this—Mr. Lex Saddler isn't a police officer.”

Christina grimaced. Olivia ought to know there wasn't any need for her to bring up good-time, no-commitment Mike. A woman didn't ever forget a mistake like him.

“As if that makes any difference,” Christina said dryly, then quickly told her friend goodbye and folded the cell phone together.

 

In the back of the house, Lex was in the kitchen, dancing Cook across the tiled floor as an old country song played on the radio.

“What are you doing here in the kitchen again?” Cook, demanded. “You've already had your breakfast. You should be down at the cattle pens.”

He twirled the aging but agile woman beneath his arm. “Yeah, I should be. Matt had to pull Lester off the fence building crew to take up my slack 'cause I've got other duties this morning,” he said with a grimace. “I've told Mom that I don't want her fretting over Dad's case, so I'm going to be dealing with it and Ms. Logan. And this morning, she needs my assistance.”

Cook's sly smile spread her ruby-red lips. “Ms. Logan, eh? Well, that ought to make you a happy man. So why aren't you smilin', and why are you wastin' time in here with me?”

He grinned. “What man wouldn't want to start out his day dancing with his sweetheart?”

She snorted. “I've known plenty.”

Lex chuckled. “Then they weren't worth knowing.”

Cook pinched his shoulder. “Be serious and talk to me.”

Her order came just as the song ended, so he led the woman over to a long pine table bracketed with benches made of the same wood. After she was seated, he poured two cups of coffee and carried them over to the table.

“I'm not going to beat around the bush, Hattie, I'll come right out and say that I think Mom has slipped a cog. Or that damned senator has brainwashed her!”

Clearly disgusted with his analogy, she said, “What are you talkin' about? Geraldine is as sharp as a tack.”

He eased down next to her. “Hattie, when she first talked to me about hiring a private investigator, I wasn't wild about digging into Dad's death. But I could see the whole thing was important to her, so I went along with her wishes. If Dad's death wasn't an accident, then we need to know it. But last night…well, I got the impression from Mom that she's doing all of this just to prove to Wolfe Maddson that the Saddler family doesn't have any hidden skeletons that could come out and hurt his political career. I'll tell you one thing, Hattie. If that man thinks my mother has to present a clean background to him before he'll walk down the aisle with her, then he's gonna be knocked on his ass, and I'm going to be the one doing the knocking!”

Impatient with his attitude, Cook merely looked at him and shook her head. “So what if that's Geraldine's motive? You can use this opportunity to prove to Wolfe Maddson that your father was the honorable man everyone believed him to be. It'll make the man see that if he plans to keep your mother as happy as Paul did, then he's got big, big boots to fill.” Her features softened as she laid a hand on his shoulder. “Besides, it won't be no skin off your hide to work with a pretty thing like Ms. Logan. She seems awfully sweet to me.”

A wry grin spread slowly across Lex's face. “Yeah. But you've always told me that too many sweets were bad for my health.”

Patting his cheek, she gave him a wink. “Yes, but that's the thing about you, boy. You like being bad.”

Five minutes later, as Lex walked out of the kitchen and headed to Christina's temporary office, he thought about Cook's comment. Like the rest of his friends and family, she considered him a ladies' man, a guy who worked hard but played even harder. None of them understood that most of his flirtatious behavior was just a cover, that his frequent dates were only attempts to fill the lonely holes inside him.

Both his sisters were married now. Nicci, the oldest, had a new daughter, and Mercedes, his younger sister, had announced a few weeks ago that she and her husband, Gabe, were expecting their first child. All three of his cousins also had loving spouses and growing families. Lex was the only unmarried relative left in the Saddler and Sanchez bunch, unless he counted Cook, his mother and his uncle Mingo. But who knew? By the end of the year, even the old folks would probably have lifelong partners.

What are you whining about, Lex? If you wanted to be married that badly, you wouldn't be so particular. You'd settle for a woman you liked, a woman who'd be a good wife, instead of waiting for that one precious love to come along and wham you in the heart.

Pushing those pestering notions out of his head, Lex knocked lightly on the open door, then stepped into the room.

Christina was sitting behind a large oak desk, black-rimmed reading glasses perched on the end of her nose as she studied a paper filled with typed text.

Lifting her head, she smiled at him. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, yourself.” Moving over to the desk, he leaned a hip against the edge. “Cook tells me you've already had breakfast.”

She glanced at a small silver watch on her left wrist. “About an hour ago. What about you?”

He smiled with amusement. “About three hours ago.”

Laying the paper aside, she leaned back in her chair. Lex couldn't prevent his eyes from drinking their fill. She was dressed casually this morning in an aqua-colored shirt and a pair of jeans. Her fiery hair was pulled into a ponytail, which made her look more like twenty-three than thirty-three, the age his mother had disclosed about the private investigator.