Lone Star Winter (11 page)

Meanwhile, he still had the problem of Lopez's ware-
house behind his property. Since the blatant attack on Harley and Lisa, Cy had pulled Harley off the night surveillance, certain that Lopez's people would have night scopes now that would catch anyone spying on them. That excuse about locoweed worked once, but it wouldn't work again. Still, there was surveillance equipment that was undetectable by infrared glasses, and Cy initiated it. He hadn't shared it with Harley. The younger man hadn't quite recovered from the shock of seeing his supposedly crippled boss take down two professional assassins. He'd stopped asking questions, but he watched Cy from a safe distance and did nothing to upset him. He wouldn't even talk to Lisa unless Cy was around lately. It was almost comical.

She got up to put the dishes in the sink and he stacked his cup and saucer on his plate to simplify the chore for her. She smiled as she finished clearing the table and began to fill the sink with soapy warm water.

“I need to buy you a dishwasher,” he said abruptly. “There wasn't much need for it when I lived alone, but we'll have dinner guests from time to time…”

“I don't mind washing dishes in the sink, Cy,” she faltered, her wide dark eyes in their big lenses searching his.

He leaned against the counter, watching her deliber
ately, his face scowling and remote. “I wasn't as gentle as I should have been. Do you feel okay? Any queasiness or discomfort?” he asked bluntly.

“I feel great!” She smiled. “No cramping and I haven't had a hint of morning sickness since I've been pregnant.”

Cy frowned. It had been a long time since his late wife had been pregnant, but he remembered everything he'd read on the subject. It was hard to overlook the lack of visible changes in Lisa's soft body, especially her breasts. He felt suddenly uneasy. Pregnancy tests weren't foolproof. Maybe she wasn't pregnant after all. But if she wasn't pregnant with her late husband's child, she could quite easily be pregnant with his right now. Especially, he thought ruefully, after his exhaustive lovemaking. He hadn't held anything back and he hadn't tried to protect her—useless when she was already pregnant, which he'd thought at the time. He'd proposed a temporary marriage to protect her. Making her pregnant with his own child wasn't part of the plan. He didn't want a binding relationship…did he?

She noticed his curious stare. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked uneasily.

“I like your hair loose around your shoulders,” he said evasively.

“Do you?” She pushed the heavy fall of it back over
her shoulders with a tiny smile. “It's a nuisance to wash and dry.”

“I had Harley bathe Puppy Dog, by the way,” he mentioned, searching for a neutral subject.

“Did you? That was nice.”

“Bob needed a bath, too,” he said. He didn't add that putting Harley to work bathing dogs had made him feel pretty good. He was still brooding about the way Harley had tested his reflexes with the pistol. He hadn't wanted any of his men to know about his old life. That was wishful thinking, he supposed.

She hesitated, washing the same plate until it threatened to rub the pattern off.

“Speaking of Puppy Dog,” he said, “didn't he stay in the house with you before you moved over here?”

“Yes,” she agreed, “but he's big and clumsy, like his father, and you've got lots of breakable stuff. Anyway, he seems to like being out in the barn with Bob. It's almost as warm in there, with the doors closed, as it is in the house. And it's amazingly sanitary. For a barn.”

“I like healthy stock. Sanitation is important.” He glanced around the kitchen. “I thought I was a fairly de cent housekeeper, but you've brightened the place up considerably.”

“I like housework,” she said absently. “I do know a
few things about the cattle business, but I enjoy cooking and cleaning and even ironing shirts.” She fingered his. “I always thought I'd take to family life like a duck to water. I just never had the chance to prove it.”

He scowled, thinking of the difference she'd made here. He'd gotten used to finding her in the kitchen or the living room when he came home every evening. He liked the little touches, the frilly curtains in the kitchen, the silk flowers on the table, the visible signs of her presence in his life. He thought about having her move back into her old house, and it was distasteful. He refused to pursue that line of thought.

His eyes went to her waistline and quickly away. She noticed and bit her lower lip while she finished washing utensils and put them in the other side of the sink to rinse.

“Does it bother you that I'm pregnant?” she blurted out.

He hesitated. He didn't know how to answer her. “The baby must be a comfort to you,” he said slowly, “with your husband gone.”

She didn't even feel as if she'd been married, she thought to herself. She'd slept with her husband exactly twice and the rest of the time he'd either been away from home or pretending that she wasn't there. He'd married her on the rebound.

He'd proposed to Lisa, having already confessed about the woman he'd loved leaving him. Lisa had no hope of marrying anyone else and she'd been very lonely since her father's death. A marriage of convenience wouldn't be so bad, she'd told herself. But Walt couldn't love her, and she couldn't love him. Now here she was in a second marriage of convenience with a man who didn't want her permanently any more than Walt had.

“I've always wanted children,” she said noncommittally.

He was remembering the little boy who hadn't been his, and how painful it had been to lose him in such a violent manner. That led him to thoughts of Lopez and revenge.

Lisa saw the expression on his face and frowned. He hadn't wanted to harm her child, but it was obvious that he regretted their intimacy. She wished she could, but it had been the only time in her life she'd felt as if she belonged to someone.

“I'm sorry, by the way,” she said quietly. “About not letting you carry me over the threshold,” she added, avoiding his sudden intent gaze. “I really was trying to spare your pride.”

He stared at her for a few seconds before he spoke. “There was some nerve damage and loss of muscle
tissue to my arm after the fire,” he said. “But I can do almost anything I could before. I don't advertise it,” he added slowly. “It gives me a psychological advantage if people think I'm less capable than I am—especially since Eb's line of work became public knowledge.”

“You don't want people to know what you did,” she said with understanding. “Well, you may fool everyone else, but Harley goes out of his way not to upset you these days,” she murmured.

“He's lucky I didn't shoot him,” he muttered. His eyes narrowed. “Did you see it?”

She nodded.

“And you still didn't think I could carry you into the house.”

She cleared her throat. “I was terribly shy of you, if you want the truth,” she told him. “Walt was an ordinary man who never made me nervous. But my knees started shaking the minute I saw you. I didn't know what you'd expect of me. I was a little afraid of you.”

“Why?”

Her shoulders rose and fell. “I haven't been completely honest with you about a few things. Not important things,” she was quick to emphasize. “But I'd only been intimate with Walt twice and it was uncomfortable and quick and embarrassing. I…knew you were experienced, and that you'd expect more from a woman
than Walt had. I thought I wouldn't be enough for you. If you meant us to have a real marriage, I mean, and not just one on paper.”

So that was why. She hadn't been challenging him at all. She'd been afraid of the very thing her behavior precipitated.

“I'm sorry. I didn't understand,” he added irritably.

“Not your fault. I sort of got carried away, too.” She blushed.

A lot of things were becoming clear to him, predominantly her total lack of experience with intimacy. If she'd only slept with her husband twice and hadn't liked it, the past few hours must have shocked her speechless. Funny, most women weren't naive these days. His gaze darkened as he stared at her. She seemed mature some times. And then she'd throw him a curve, from out of nowhere. He couldn't fathom her.

“Are we going to sleep together at night?” she asked before her courage failed.

“No,” he said flatly. “This afternoon should never have happened. I'm not going to put your baby at risk a second time.”

She worked not to let her disappointment show. Now she was certain that she hadn't pleased him. She seemed to be an ongoing disappointment to men in
bed, and she didn't know how to change it. “Okay,” she said with forced carelessness.

He was glad she was taking it so calmly. She might not have loved her husband, but she genuinely wanted the baby and there was still a chance that she was pregnant, despite the lack of symptoms. He recalled now that some women did have cramping in the early stages, and it usually went away, just as hers had. And a lot of women never had morning sickness.

If she really was pregnant with Walt's child, he wasn't going to be the cause of her losing her baby. Nor was he going to touch her for the duration of their marriage of convenience. Once the threat of Lopez was re moved, he was going to let her go back home and go to work for Kemp. They could have the marriage quietly annulled and it would be the best thing for both of them. He wasn't going to let himself love anyone ever again. He couldn't go through the hell of losing anyone else.

Lisa felt embarrassed, but she didn't let it show. It shouldn't have surprised her that she'd disappointed him in bed, considering the sophisticated women he'd probably attracted before his marriage. She was just a country woman with no experience, and thank God he didn't know her real age or he'd be doing more than clamming up when they talked. “I'll have supper when you come in,” she said.

“I'll be late.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

He went to the door, hesitated, looked back and a flash of possessiveness showed in his green eyes as he stared at her. Her face colored and he forced himself to look away. She wasn't the first woman he'd taken to bed, and she wouldn't be the last. He had to stop seeing her as some sort of permanent fixture in his life. There was simply no future in it. He grabbed his hat off the rack, slanted it over one eye and walked out without another word.

Lisa went back to her dishes on shaky legs. She wondered if he had any idea what that smoldering look of his did to a woman.

T
wo more weeks passed with the occupants of the Parkses' house being polite to each other and not much more. Cy had swept the house for “bugs” the same day Lopez's men made their assault, making sure that he didn't miss any of Lopez's little listening devices. He had no idea how long the drug lord's men had been eavesdropping, but there hadn't been that many opportunities for them to get into the house. He didn't imagine it had been long.

He checked his surveillance tapes periodically as well, noting that the warehouse on the land behind his property had been joined by what looked like a small processing plant, supposedly for honey from the row
upon row of beehives on the property. He saw nothing to indicate a drug presence, but Lopez had added several more men to the site, and there were several big eighteen-wheel trucks on the premises now. It looked very much as if Lopez planned to start shipping his product fairly soon.

Meanwhile, Cy had gone to see Eb Scott to check on Rodrigo's progress, and the status of the cocaine shipment he'd already reported.

“Narcs got it down in the Gulf,” Eb murmured coolly. “The Coast Guard homed in on the boats that were carrying it and strafed them with gunfire. Needless to say, they gave themselves and their shipment up. The DEA made several arrests and confiscated enough cocaine paste to addict a small country.”

“Damn,” Cy murmured angrily. “So here we sit.”

“Don't knock the confiscation,” Eb mused. “I'd love to see them make that kind of haul on a daily basis.”

“So would I, but I want to catch Lopez with his fingers in the cookie jar,” the other man said. And soon, he could have added, because his hunger for his wife was growing less controllable by the day. He looked at her and ached. Anger made new lines in his lean face. “Meanwhile, he sits on the edge of my property like a volcano about to erupt and I can't do a damned thing about it. I suppose you know that the sheriff's
department and the DEA were all over it because of an ‘anonymous' tip.”

“I know,” Eb replied. “One of Lopez's men phoned in the tip, apparently, and then the man in charge of the honey operation threatened to sue everybody for harassment if they came out again and did any more searches.” He shook his head. “You have to admire the plan, at least. It was a stroke of genius. Nobody's going to rush out there again to look around unless there's concrete evidence of drugs.”

“And that,” Cy agreed, “will be hard to come by now.”

“Exactly.” He leaned forward in his chair and studied Cy intently. “You look older.”

Cy scowled. “That's what marriage does to a bachelor.”

“It had the opposite effect on me,” his friend replied. “I've had a streak of good luck since I married Sally.”

“I noticed. Is Micah Steele still in town?” he asked abruptly.

“He's in and out. He had an assignment and he's due back next week. Had an apparently disastrous argument with his stepsister, Callie Kirby, over his father before he left.”

“Callie isn't much for arguments,” Cy pointed out. “If there was an argument, he started it.”

“Could be.”

“I wish we could nab Lopez and get Rodrigo out of there before he gets himself shot,” Cy said, changing the subject. “He's good people. I don't want him killed on our account.”

“Same here. He's been in the business at least as long as Dutch and J.D. and Laremos,” he replied. “And they taught him everything he knows.”

“They were the best.”

“We weren't bad, either,” Eb said on an amused laugh. “But I suppose we either settle down or die. Personally I consider marriage an adventure.”

“Some do,” he said without enthusiasm and changed the subject.

“Did you hear that Sally's aunt Jessica married Dallas and moved back to Houston with their son Stevie?” Eb asked unexpectedly. “Nobody was exactly surprised about it.”

“At least she'll be looked after,” Cy remarked.

“That's true.” Eb frowned as he stared at his friend. “It's none of my business, but is it true that Lisa's pregnant?”

He was going to say yes, but Eb was watching him with the insight of years of friendship and he let his guard drop. “That's a good question,” Cy replied, leaning forward. “I thought that she was, just after Walt
was killed,” he added. “But she had some symptoms I don't like and she doesn't show the normal signs of pregnancy.” He grimaced. “We don't talk about it.”

“She's young,” Eb agreed. “I don't imagine she knows very much about pregnancy, since she was an only child more or less raised by her dad. He wasn't the sort to discuss intimate issues with her.”

“She's young, you said,” Cy returned quickly. “How young?”

“You mean to tell me that you're married to her and you don't know how old she is?”

“She hid the marriage license,” he muttered. “Put her thumb over the birth date while I was signing it and confiscated it as soon as the JP signed it. Every time I've asked, she's changed the subject.”

“I see.”

“Well?” Cy prompted.

Eb grimaced. “She ought to tell you.”

“Eb!”

The other man shifted restlessly. “She's twenty-one. Barely.”

Cy's face went white. He leaned back in his chair as if he'd been shot. He took off his hat and wiped his sweaty brow on his sleeve. “Dear God!”

“That's legal age,” Eb pointed out. “And you don't need me to tell you that she's amazingly mature for that
age. Some women grow up quicker than others. She never really had a childhood. From what I've heard, from the age of six, she was riding horses in competitions and working around the ranch. For all that her dad wouldn't teach her management, there isn't much she doesn't know about the daily routine of ranch hands.”

“Fourteen years my junior,” Cy groaned. “I could never get her to tell me.”

“Now you see why,” his friend remarked. “You'd never have married her if you'd known.”

“Of course I wouldn't have married her if I'd known, Lopez or no Lopez! I don't rob cradles!”

Eb chuckled. “She's no kid. Around Jacobsville we pay more attention to family than we do to age differences. Lisa comes from good people. So do you.”

Cy had his face in his hands. “Walt wasn't even thirty,” he remarked. “And damned Harley is barely twenty-eight. He's still in and out of the house all the time flirting with her when he doesn't think I see him. I caught him a couple of weeks ago showing her how to break handholds, right in my own living room.”

“You know how to handle that,” Eb said easily.

Green, glittery eyes came up to meet his. “I can't handle it. She's too damned young for me and I don't want to stay married to her!”

Eb's eyebrows went up at the vehemence of the statement. “What do you plan to do, then, kick her out and let Lopez…”

“Oh, for God's sake, you know I wouldn't do that! I just don't want her getting comfortable in my house,” he added irritably. “I think she's still in shock at Walt's death and latching onto the first pair of comforting arms she can find.”

“So that's it. And you don't want to take any chances until you know for sure.”

Cy glared at him. “Don't psychoanalyze me!”

“Wasn't trying to,” Eb said with a grin. “But she and Walt didn't marry for love eternal. He'd just lost Becky Wayne and his heart was broken. Everybody knew he married Lisa on the rebound. And she'd never been in love with anybody. She assumed it came naturally when you put on an engagement ring. That isn't the case.”

“You ought to know,” Cy said. “You got engaged to Maggie Barton, and I know for a fact you didn't love her.”

“I was lonely,” he said simply. “But until Sally stormed back into my life, I didn't know what love was. I do now.”

Obviously. It was written all over him. Cy turned his eyes away.

Eb's expression became covertly amused. “If you don't want Lisa for keeps, you might let Harley get on the inside track. He's got potential…”

“Damn Harley!” Cy burst out, his eyes were blazing. “If he goes near her again, I'll feed him to my chickens!”

So much for Cy's true feelings, even if he wouldn't admit them. Eb chuckled. “I haven't forgotten what happened at your place when Lopez's men made a try for Lisa,” Eb murmured. “Talk is that Harley's given up throwing pistols at you and he walks a mile around you lately.”

“Some men have to learn the hard way that they aren't invulnerable. Harley got overconfident. It almost cost him his life. You know that the two assailants made bond and left the country?”

“I know. What was it, a million in bond, each?”

“Yep. Pocket change to Lopez, but the judge set bond as high as she could. I don't blame her.”

“She's a good judge at that,” Eb agreed.

Cy stood up, feeling shaky. “I've got to get back home. If you hear from Rodrigo, let me know. I'm still trying to keep an eye on the honey plant. Nothing's shown up so far.”

“Wouldn't it be a hoot if Lopez had decided to turn
respectable and it's a real honey processing plant?” Eb mused.

“Sure, and pigs will fly.”

“Not on my place, they won't,” Eb said. He got up, too, and walked the other man to the front door. “But bullets may, before this mess is over,” he added in a somber tone. “I don't like all this sudden quiet from Lopez's warehouse. They're up to something.”

“That's exactly what I'm afraid of,” Cy agreed, and he didn't smile.

 

As another week crawled by, Lisa could see that Cy was brooding about something. He continued to be standoffish and remote after their tempestuous afternoon in bed together, and he'd been somber and unapproachable altogether since he'd gone to see Eb Scott. But his eyes always seemed to be on her. She caught him watching her when she worked in the kitchen, when she washed clothes. He'd bought her a dishwasher, as he'd promised, and every sort of kitchen utensil and cook ware any gourmet would have cherished. He surprised her with the romance novels she liked to read, and even scarce out-of-print editions of authors she enjoyed. He was forever buying toys for Puppy Dog and Bob, and coaxing Lisa into stores where
he had accounts. She was spoiled constantly. But he never touched her.

One evening when they'd just finished watching the news, she cut off the television and followed him daringly into the office where he kept his computer and printer and fax-modem. He looked up from behind the massive oak desk with an expression of surprise.

“Can I come in?” she asked from the doorway.

He shrugged. “Help yourself.”

That didn't sound welcoming, especially from a man to his new wife, but she smiled and walked up to the desk.

“Something bothering you?” he asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“What?”

She stuck her hands into the pockets of her pretty embroidered purple apron. “I feel like an unwanted houseguest lately,” she said flatly. “I want to know what I'm doing wrong.”

He scowled and put down the pencil he was holding over a spreadsheet of figures. “You haven't done anything wrong, Lisa,” he said.

“I must have. You can't seem to force yourself to come within five feet of me.” Her voice sounded raw and she didn't quite meet his eyes.

He leaned back in the chair. A harsh sound came out
of his throat and his lips made a thin line as he studied her. “You didn't tell me you were just twenty-one.”

She looked suddenly uncomfortable. “Does it matter?”

“Good God in heaven!” he exclaimed, explosively pushing himself up and out of his desk chair. “Of course it matters! You're still a kid and I'm thirty-five years old!”

She let out an expressive breath.

“You don't look your age,” he muttered, walking away from her to stand in front of the dark window. The horizon was a faint silhouette in the distance, flat and cold-looking.

“That's what Walt used to say,” she recalled. She leaned her hip against his desk and stared at his long back. “But I'm not as immature as you're making me out to be.”

His shoulder moved jerkily. “If you were ten years older…”

“But I'm not. So what do you want to do about it?” she demanded, blowing a wisp of loose hair out of her mouth. “Do you want me to move back over to Dad's ranch and go to work for Mr. Kemp and pay rent? I'm willing.”

He felt his heart stop. His expression was vulnerable for those few seconds, and he actually winced.

“Don't look so tormented. It won't cause any gossip if I go back home, wedding ring or no wedding ring. We can get an annulment.”

“The gossips would have a field day over that!”

“I can't believe you care what people might say,” she bit off. “I certainly don't.”

“It isn't that.” He rammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and stared at her worriedly. “You've never been out of Jacobsville. You don't know beans about men.” He drew in a slow breath. “You should have gone to college or at least seen a little more of the country and the world before you married.”

“There was never enough money for travel,” she said shortly. “My dad was a small rancher, not an aristocrat. If I went to college it would be to study veterinary medicine or animal husbandry, and I don't really see how I could do that with a baby on the way!”

He hesitated. Should he tell her what he suspected about the baby? It might be the best time to do it. But he couldn't think clearly. All he could think about was her age. He should have realized how young she was. He felt as if he'd taken unfair advantage of her, even if it had been the only way to protect her from Lopez. She had been married already, he reminded himself. It wasn't as if he'd snatched her from a cradle.