Texas Lonestar (Texas Heroes Book 4) (6 page)

Returning to the bedroom, he remembered making the bed with her. She’d been friendly–helpful. But there’d been no teasing, no flirting. If any credence was given to Sheriff Ferguson’s words, he would’ve expected Lennon to do something to attract him…but she didn’t. He wondered why. As he pondered, he smirked. Man, he was a piece of work. He just assumed any woman would want him. As long as they didn’t know the truth about William McClain, all females seemed to find Dallas sexy as hell. He shrugged - maybe Lennon was satisfied with her life, maybe her circumstances pushed any thoughts of attraction from her mind. But sometimes–sometimes when their eyes would meet, he could sense loneliness, a desperate void that she didn’t expect to ever fill. It was in those times, Lennon seemed like a kindred spirit to Dallas. Or maybe it was just his imagination, maybe he was projecting his own weaknesses onto her. Oh well, this wasn’t a puzzle he’d solve tonight.

Dallas removed the towel he’d tied around his waist and pulled on a pair of lounge pants. The bed looked inviting, but he wasn’t sleepy. Lennon’s invitation for him to use the bathhouse was just too good to pass up. Throwing the towel over his shoulder, he decided to take a walk first, then head to the pools from there. He’d only taken a few steps outside when he heard a mourning dove sound its lonely cry. Dallas froze. How unusual, he’d never heard one at this hour of the day. It sounded again and he felt himself shiver. Nothing in the world sounded so lonesome. Back home, after he’d buried Carly and was left to face the fact his child was lost to him, he’d hear the cry of the whippoorwill and all the shame of his life would come crashing down on him like a ton of bricks. Every call of the mysterious night bird would land on his skin like a lash from a cat-o’-nine tails–Whip-poor-will, Whip-poor-will–whip poor William until he breaks.

Dallas shook off his melancholy and looked out across the horizon. There was nothing more vast than the West Texas sky. A veritable blanket of stars hung above him. In the distance, a coyote howled, a few cows lowed, and the wind lazily moved through the brush. Everything seemed so peaceful, but something wasn’t right. For all extents and purposes, Lennon was being targeted and he intended to figure out why.

Using the key, Dallas let himself in and turned on the light. A smile came to his face. This was as close to a Roman spa as he’d ever get. Yes, it was rundown. Yes, it needed some repair work, but the tile was beautiful and the bubbling waters looked inviting. He moved closer, watching the steam rise from the pools. They were each about four-foot wide and about twelve-foot long. He remembered what Lennon had said about it being a resort for the rich and famous. Well, he was neither, but he sure could use a good hot soak.

Coming up to the side, he found the steps and moved down them. He didn’t hiss, but he did smile. God, this was going to feel good. As he settled his tired body into the healing waters, he wondered why Lennon didn’t try to develop this place. She could put together a proposal, invite investors… Even as he mentally fabricated a plan, he knew why she hadn’t. Lennon’s days were completely packed with surviving–taking care of the ranch, George, and Sally. She’d need a full-time partner if she were to tackle a project such as the one he envisioned.

As the warm bubbles broke against his skin, his mind traversed from business to pleasure. What would it be like to share a time such as this with a woman. He tried to imagine Sonia here with him, her shapely body pressed against his–her hand soothing down his chest, stroking his cock. His own hand followed that same path, cupping his balls, fisting his swelling dick. “God, yes.” He missed this. Over and over again–he stroked, pumping, giving himself relief. But as he shut his eyes, it wasn’t Sonia’s face he saw–it was Lennon’s. Dallas groaned as he gained his release.

Across the way, Lennon sat on the floor of her bedroom, legs tucked under her, her arm resting on the window sill, her forehead to the glass. She stared down into the yard, wishing she possessed the feminine wiles to tempt a man like Dallas McClain. He’d joked about tossing pebbles at her window and she dreamed of throwing open the shutters and inviting him inside. And then…her fantasy fizzled out. Even though she knew biology, she’d witnessed animals procreating–the thought of her doing something like that with a man was totally out of her realm of imagination. No man had ever come on to her, not seriously. Some had teased her in high school, but it had been in jest. She just wasn’t enough somehow. Tonight, she’d studied her body in the mirror, cupped her breasts, then let her hands slide down to touch her secret, guarded place. She didn’t try to play with herself, until now the thought had never really entered her head. Sex, men, and marriage had always seemed so removed from her reality that they simply didn’t enter her thoughts. Usually when she went to bed Lennon was so tired she couldn’t do anything but sleep anyway.

But now…now was different. Just like she’d dreamed so long ago, a man had entered her life to slay the dragons that threatened her world. No, he wasn’t interested in her as a woman, or even as a person. She couldn’t blame him for that. Heck, there was no way he didn’t have someone–a wife, a girlfriend. So, she wouldn’t be traipsing over to the lodge with seduction on her mind. Just the thought made her laugh. Lennon Haley could do most anything she set her mind to–except ask someone to love her. That she could not do. She could give to people all day long, but she couldn’t ask for something for herself. What she could offer others had to be defined in terms of value–a home and security for Sally and George, tending the ranch and caring for the animals. On her own, the sum total of Lennon Haley–body and soul–wasn’t enough to interest anyone.

A movement outside caught her eye and Lennon held her breath as she watched Dallas leave the bathhouse, a towel slung over his shoulder, pants made of some soft material hugging low on his hips. Her heart raced. He was such a beautiful man. She smiled, glad he’d taken advantage of what she’d offered. He’d never know she was attracted to him or that she fantasized about him. She wouldn’t insult him by asking for more than he could give. He was here to help her, and for that, she’d be grateful. The only thing that bothered her was the fact that he seemed so unhappy. Lennon wondered if he was lonely.    

*  *  *

Early the next morning, Dallas rose with a renewed determination to get things done. He was planning on making some phone calls to check area auction barns for the missing cattle–just nose around and ask questions. As he walked with hands stuffed in his pockets, he noticed Lennon carrying a sack of feed almost as big as she was toward a group of patiently waiting sheep. Shaking his head, he admitted that the woman amazed him.

He was just about to go offer her a hand when his phone buzzed. Checking the read-out, he saw it was Hiram. “McClain.”

“Well, how are things going? What did you find?”

Dallas turned back to the lodge, not wanting what he had to say to be overheard. “I found what you told me I’d find. Something’s going on here, something more than just cattle being stolen. I have no idea what their motivation is or who’s doing it, but I’m going to find out.”

“Good. I knew I’d asked the right person to help me. How about Lennon? How is she?”

“Strong.” He realized the word applied to the woman in spades.

“Good. That should make things easier for you. There’s nothing more frustrating than having a woman fall apart on you when there’s a job to be done.”

Dallas realized Hiram was speaking from years of experience. He had to laugh. “I don’t think you’re speaking about Marge.”

“No, thank God.” He chuckled. “But I’ve had cases where I’ve spent more time cajoling the woman involved than getting the job done.”

“That won’t be the case here. Lennon is used to relying on herself. She’s not the kind to make demands.” As soon as he voiced his thoughts, he had the distinctive image of her making some sensual demands on him. Dallas shook his head. Where was this coming from?

“Keep me informed and if there’s anything you need, just let me know. I’m located halfway between you and the capital, I can facilitate any requests you might have.”

“I appreciate that. I’ve got some ideas, but I need to do a little checking locally first. How about if I give you a call tonight?”

“Sounds good. I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”

Upon finishing the call, he took a shower, dressed and headed over to the house to find that breakfast Lennon promised him. He could smell bacon frying and his stomach growled in anticipation.

Seeing a light in the kitchen, he went around to the side door and tapped. Sally welcomed him at the door. “Come in, Dallas. Eat wiff us.”

“I thought you were supposed to sleep in.” He patted her on the head, realizing his son would’ve been about the same age–if he’d been allowed to live.

“Come in, Dallas. Good morning.” Lennon called to him from the stove. “I’ve made French Toast and bacon.”

“Smells good.” He stepped in, turning toward her voice, only to find her on her hands and knees cleaning up spilled orange juice. “Can I help?”

“Nope. Got it. Have some coffee.” She got to her feet and gave him a big smile. She didn’t have a speck of makeup on, yet her eyes sparkled, her cheeks were rosy and her lips were plump, pink and…kissable. To his surprise, he had to admit how wrong he’d been. There was no way he should’ve ever thought her plain.

As he was stirring in the sugar and cream, he felt a tug on his shirt. “I needs a daddy. Will you be my daddy?”

Dallas was paralyzed by the small girl’s question.

“Sally!” Lennon chided her. “Ranger McClain is here doing a job. He’s helping us. I’m sure he has his own family.”

“Do you haff kids?”

Sally was nothing if not persistent. “No.” The word stuck in his throat. “I don’t.”

“See. He needs me!”

“Sorry.” Lennon handed him his tray with a platter of golden brown French Toast and bacon. “I’ll be out in about a half hour to go feed the livestock.”

Dallas took the tray from her hand and Lennon thought he’d make a new door through the wall as he ran away from them so fast. She watched him go, a deep sense of loss enveloping her.

“What’s wrong, Lenny? You look so sad.” Sally wrapped herself around Lennon’s leg.

Bending down to hug her, Lennon sighed. “Not a thing, baby girl. I’m good.” She had so much. Was it wrong to long for more?

About forty-five minutes later, Dallas backed his truck under the outside second story opening of the hay loft and waited while Lennon pushed bale after bale of hay onto the bed. He knew he owed her an apology for running out of the kitchen without a word of explanation. Honestly, the little girl’s question had knocked him for a loop. It was the first time he’d shed a tear since the funeral. He sat there in a daze until the cab of the truck opened and she joined him. Her spring fresh meadow scent washed over him. She might dress like a boy, but she certainly didn’t smell like one.

Laying her head back on the seat, she caught her breath. “Okay. I’m ready.”

He didn’t put the truck in gear. Instead, he cut his eyes toward her. “I shouldn’t have walked out of the kitchen without even a thank-you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lennon assured him, so conscious of his masculinity, she trembled. For years, she’d assumed she was practically asexual. She’d pushed any thoughts of dating, sex, or love so far from her thoughts, it was almost as if they didn’t exist for her. And now, Ranger Dallas McClain had come into her world and reminded her of everything she didn’t/couldn’t have. “Sally watches a lot of TV and she wants a normal sitcom style family.”

This made Dallas laugh. “Nowadays families on TV sitcoms are rarely normal.” He pointed toward the fields. “Which way?”

“Go around by the road. The cattle will be down by the pond. I’ll open the gate when we come to it.” She tried to keep her eyes on the road, she really did. But his shirt was rolled up and his strong forearms dusted with dark hair made her want to stare. “Are you married?” The question popped out of her mouth before she could stop it.

“No,” he said softly. “Not anymore.” Dallas had never felt the need to talk about it before. “My wife was killed in a car wreck several years ago.”

“I’m so sorry.” Unbidden she placed her hand on his arm, offering comfort.

Dallas shook his head. “She…she was out late…coming home from having an abortion. She killed my baby boy.” He swallowed hard. “I didn’t know anything about her plans. God, I wanted him.” He pressed his lips together, knowing he could tell her no more without revealing his own private hell.

Lennon couldn’t help it; tears began to stream down her cheeks. “Pull over,” she directed, pointing to the gate. But when he did, she didn’t get out, she unbuckled her seat belt and went to her knees in the seat, boldly putting her arms around his neck. “I am so, so sorry.”

Her gesture of empathy touched him. He didn’t cry this time, he held Lennon while she cried for him. She was soft and warm, molding to him, wetting his neck with her tears. And when her sobs stilled, she petted his neck and shoulder. “I can’t imagine such sorrow. I wish I could take the pain for you.”

He still said nothing and Lennon pulled back, suddenly aware she’d taken a liberty he might not appreciate. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said hoarsely. He’d hadn’t felt such caring in a woman’s arms since his own mother had held him tight.

Lennon wiped her eyes and opened the door, going to the gate and holding it open for him to drive through. Once he had, she jumped into the back of his truck and called out. “Drive down toward the pond and I’ll put out the hay.”