Texas Tall (16 page)

Abner puffed his chest, saying nothing.

“
Do
you have a court order?” Tori asked again.

“I can get one.”

“Then please don't interfere until you have it.” Tori's voice dripped ice.

“I'll guarantee you haven't heard the end of this!” Abner wheeled and stalked back toward his SUV. His oversized tires spat gravel as he drove away.

Beau gazed after him, shaking his head. “Now what the hell do you suppose that was about?” he mused out loud.

“I don't know,” Tori said. “But I had the distinct impression that the sheriff was bluffing.”

“I've got a pretty good idea who might've put him up to it,” Will said. “But what we need right now is to forget Abner Sweeney and get this mess cleared away from the foundation. Let's get the hell back to work.”

* * *

Feeling like a fool, Abner Sweeney gripped the steering wheel with sweating hands. His pulse was racing, and his prostate was acting up again. If he couldn't hold it till he got back to his office, he'd have to pull off the road and pee in the cold. To make matters worse, his personal cell phone was ringing, a call he knew better than to ignore. Slowing down, he reached for the phone in his pocket.

“Well, how did it go?” Hearing Stella's voice was like feeling a rattlesnake crawl across his foot. “Did you put the fear into those Tylers?”

Abner stifled a groan. “I gave it a shot, but Tori was there. When I threatened to arrest Will for obstruction, she demanded that I show a court order to put the barn site off-limits—something no judge would give me. All I could do was leave.”

“That bitch!” Stella muttered, then continued. “But you told them your son-in-law was murdered, didn't you?”

“I told them I suspected it. They'll be wondering about that for a while.”
Even though it isn't true,
Abner reminded himself. It had taken the retired surgeon who served as part-time county coroner about five minutes to determine that Ralph had been kicked in the head by a horse. Whether it was the blow that killed him or the smoke he'd inhaled while unconscious would have to be determined by a full autopsy. Either way, as he'd already told Stella, the boy's death hadn't been murder.

“Well, you'd better keep pushing those Tylers,” Stella said. “Will Tyler murdered my Nicky. Don't give that bastard a moment's peace.”

Abner ended the call, pulled onto the shoulder of the road, and emptied his bladder in the barrow pit. At least, so far, there was no evidence to prove Ralph had started the fire. But he was sick of being Stella's errand boy. When he'd held Vonda's baby son in his arms, he'd realized he needed to be a better man, and a better example to his family. But how could he walk away from Stella when she knew enough to destroy him?

Still thinking about her, he climbed back in the SUV and headed for his office in town. It wasn't like he'd done anything seriously illegal. But in exchange for interest-free loans, which he always paid back, he'd traded department information with the woman. And he'd looked the other way while she carried on her so-called business transactions. That night when he'd met Ralph on the road, he'd suspected his son-in-law might be running drugs for Stella. But he'd played dumb and let the boy go, partly for Vonda's sake, but mostly because he hadn't wanted to get crosswise with Stella. Maybe his sins weren't bad enough to get him sent to prison. But if word got out, his ass would get fired on the spot, and he'd never work in law enforcement again.

Now, with Vonda and her baby in the house, and two more mouths to feed, he needed his job more than ever. But the thought of what Stella would ask for next, and what she'd do if he refused, was keeping him awake nights.

Since her brother's death, Stella was becoming more and more demanding—like today, when she'd ordered him to drive out to the Rimrock and harass the Tylers just to make trouble. It was as if she'd become obsessed with punishing not just Will, but the whole family.

Abner had no love for the Tylers. But enough was enough. If Will's upcoming trial ended in acquittal—which it could, given the true evidence and a fair-minded jury—Abner feared that Stella's fury would push her over the edge. He dreaded what she might do—and what she might demand of him.

Somehow he needed to get clear of this mess. But how? Walk away, or try to arrest her, and the woman would use what she knew to take him down, or worse. Stella had trapped him—just as she'd trapped Hoyt Axelrod, Slade Haskell, Lute Fletcher, Garn Prescott, and poor, stupid Ralph.

All of those names were inscribed on tombstones now, or soon would be.

Was his name destined to be next?

* * *

Still unsettled by the clash with Abner, Tori walked back to the house. The dry November breeze bit through her thin cotton shirt, raising goose bumps on her skin. In her race to catch up with Will, she'd left her jacket in the house. Now her teeth were chattering.

Behind her, Will, Beau, and the crew of ranch hands had gone back to clearing away the barn debris. They'd be at it all day, until dark, then back on the job by sunrise.

Will had looked exhausted this morning, she thought. The strain of the ranch's money problems, the coming trial, and now the loss of the barn, all had to be wearing him down. But she knew better than to fuss over the man and insist he rest. Will wouldn't stand for that. He'd be out there pushing till he dropped. Some things never changed.

Natalie's white SUV was parked next to the porch. Seeing it, she remembered that her friend had promised to come by this morning and check Tesoro's shoulder wound.

She found Natalie in the kitchen, drinking coffee while Lauren finished a breakfast of bacon and eggs. Jasper had gone, and Erin was nowhere in sight.

“Your daughter's getting her coat,” Natalie said. “Do you want to come out to the shed with us?”

“If it won't take too long.” Tori had planned to drive into town to check her house and take care of some legal matters. Even with Will's case pending, there were other clients who needed her. She couldn't fall behind on the work that was her livelihood. “Lauren, you're welcome to go in and rest on my bed.”

Lauren rose, gathered up her dishes, and carried them to the sink. “I'll rest better at home after a shower and a change of clothes,” she said, loading the dishwasher. “Don't worry, I'll be fine driving back to town.”

Erin burst into the kitchen, wearing her fleece-lined denim jacket. “I hope Tesoro's okay. He looked fine when I went out to feed and water him before breakfast.”

“Even if he's fine, we'll need to check the wound and change the dressing,” Natalie said. “Did you wash your hands, Erin?”

“I did. Let's go.”

Tori slipped on the old work coat she wore around the ranch. “Be careful, Lauren, okay?”

“I will.” Lauren found her coat and purse and headed for her car. Tori hurried through the back door after Erin and Natalie, who'd brought her black leather medical bag.

Until his shoulder healed, young Tesoro couldn't be allowed in the paddock with his roughhousing friends. A stall-sized enclosure at one end of the hay shed had been blocked off for the palomino foal and his mother, Lupita. The buckskin mare raised her head and nickered at their approach. “I bet she's lonesome,” Erin said. “She doesn't understand why she and Tesoro can't be with the other horses.”

“Smart thinking, Erin.” Natalie set her bag on the ground outside the enclosure. “How did you figure that out?”

“Sky's always telling me to think like a horse, so that's what I try to do,” Erin said. “I wish he was here. I really miss him.”

“We all miss him,” Tori said. “At least your dad said he was doing better this morning.”

“Next time somebody goes to see him in the hospital, can I go, too?”

“We'll decide that later.” Seeing Sky burned and bandaged could be too much for the girl, Tori thought. But then, her daughter was mature beyond her years. She would probably handle it fine.

“Remember what we talked about in the kitchen, Erin. Are you ready?” Natalie pulled two sets of latex gloves out of a packet in her bag and handed one pair to Erin. “Can you hold the mare out of the way, Tori? She might not understand what we're doing to her baby.”

“Got her.” Tori didn't have the Tyler touch with horses, but she was confident enough to grasp Lupita's halter and, with pats and reassurance, ease the mare to the far side of the makeshift stall.

Erin had put on the latex gloves Natalie had given her. Tori watched in disbelief as Natalie took Tesoro's head and stepped back to make room for Erin in the stall. “You're the one he trusts, Erin,” Natalie said. “Go ahead.”

The area around the gash in Tesoro's shoulder had been lightly shaved, and there was a gauze dressing taped in place. Singing softly to her trembling foal—as Tori had known Sky to do—Erin stroked his neck with her left hand, while her right gently peeled away the tape and lifted off the gauze dressing. “What do you think?” she asked, stepping back so Natalie could see.

The eight-inch wound, probably a skin rip from an exposed nail or splintered wood in the barn, didn't look as bad as Tori had feared it would. However, the sight of the torn edge, gleaming with ointment, made her knees go watery. She soothed the nervous mare, her hand gripping the rope halter, her eyes on her daughter. She'd never realized Erin was capable of doing what she was doing now.

“The wound doesn't look infected.” Natalie spoke in answer to Erin's question. “But it's still oozing a little. I'd say we should keep the dressing on it at least one more day. Here.” She handed Erin a fresh, ointment-coated gauze pad. Erin pressed it gently into place and secured it with lengths of surgical tape. The golden foal quivered, but didn't try to move.

“Good job,” Natalie said as Erin stepped back. “It might fall off later. If it does, don't worry. Just let the wound heal in the air.”

Tori let go of the mare. “You did great,” she told her daughter as they walked back to the house. “I was proud of you. Maybe you should think of becoming a vet, like Natalie, one day.”

“I have thought about it.” Erin sounded surprisingly grown-up. “I wouldn't mind being a vet, but I'd have to go away for my schooling—for years. I don't want to leave the ranch that long.”

“But, surely, you'll want to go to college,” Tori said. “The money's there. Your grandpa Bull left it to you in his will.”

“Dad never went to college,” Erin said. “Neither did Sky. I want to stay right here on the ranch and train horses. I can learn all I need to know right here.”

Tori gazed at her daughter, already growing so tall. This was a child speaking, she reminded herself. A child just short of her thirteenth birthday.

“I know the ranch needs money right now,” Erin said. “I'm going to tell Dad he can use what Grandpa left me.”

“Erin! Your dad would never take that money from you!”

“Not even to help save the ranch?”

“Not for anything,” Tori said, knowing she was right. “Do you want to go into town with me this morning? We could get lunch at Burger Shack. You must be getting tired of leftover turkey.”

Erin hesitated, then shook her head. “I'll stay here. I want to keep an eye on Tesoro. If I go, I'll be worried about him.”

“All right. I'll see you later, then.” Tori watched her daughter scamper off toward the coop to gather eggs for Bernice. Maybe by the time she finished high school, Erin would change her mind about college. But she had inherited her father's stubborn nature and his love for the land. Something told Tori that her decision was final. As a mother she could only hope and pray it was the right one.

After changing her jacket and collecting her briefcase, Tori went out to her wagon and headed for town. When had her little girl become such a determined young woman? she wondered as she drove. What would Erin do if the worst happened and the Rimrock was no longer there for her?

Tori remembered Will's request—that if he was sentenced to prison, she and Erin would move back to the ranch. She'd told him she'd have to think it over. But now, after hearing Erin's decision, she knew it would be her only option.

How would that limit Tori's life, especially if things became serious with Drew? But how could she even think about that when Will was facing years behind bars?

The jangle of her cell phone broke into her thoughts. With her free hand, she fished it out of her purse. The caller was Drew.

“Hi,” she said, realizing she'd scarcely given him a thought since the barn fire. “How's Omaha?”

“Boring. I missed my favorite lady, so I drove back early. I know you're busy, but I need to talk to you. How about getting together for lunch?”

CHAPTER 16

T
ori had an hour-long appointment with a middle-aged couple, setting up a family trust for their grown children. After they'd left, she spent another hour organizing the paperwork and filling out the formal documents on her computer. The next time she glanced at her watch, it was almost noon—time to meet Drew for a quick lunch at the Burger Shack.

Seeing him again would be good for her, she'd told herself. Drew was easy to be with. He always knew how to make her smile. But anxiety gnawed at her as she drove to Blanco's only restaurant. Drew wouldn't have come home early on a whim. Something had to be weighing on his mind.

Drew had offered to pick her up at home, but she'd told him she had errands to run after lunch, which was true. It was also true that if they were alone in his car or her house, and he wanted to push her to a decision, things could get emotional. Meeting in public would be a safeguard against regrettable words and actions.

His car was parked outside the Burger Shack when she pulled up. He'd be waiting for her inside, maybe expecting some answers about their relationship. But she had none to give him. The past few days had left her more distracted and confused than ever.

The Burger Shack was crowded today, the booths and tables full. Behind the counter a cook was piling up a tower of takeout pizza boxes.
Somebody must've ordered for an army,
Tori thought.

Drew stood next to the booth he was saving. He gave Tori a smile as she walked through the door. He looked like a photo from
GQ,
in a gray sweater, khaki slacks, and a dark brown lambskin jacket. Tori, still in the frayed jeans and plaid shirt she'd worn on the ranch, with her hair raked back in a careless ponytail, looked more like a panhandler he'd invited in off the street.

Always the gentleman, he helped her with her coat before they sat down, facing each other across the red-checked vinyl tablecloth.

“How was your holiday?” she asked.

“Not bad. Eating dinner with my sister, her husband, and three rambunctious kids was better than eating alone. How was yours?”

He wouldn't know about the fire, of course. Tori shook her head. “Awful. It's a long story. Let's order, and I'll tell you.”

The waitress had reached their booth. Tori scanned the menu, deciding on a tuna melt and coffee. Drew ordered a burger, fries, and a Coke.

“So tell me,” he said. “Was your Thanksgiving really that bad?”

She told him, then, about the fire, the horses that had to be rescued, the injuries to Sky, and the dead man they'd found after the fire was out. Drew listened, his expression sympathetic.

“Good Lord, you weren't kidding, were you? It must've been terrible, being there and going through that. I'm so sorry.”

His hand slid across the tabletop to rest on hers. That was when the restaurant door opened and Will strode in.

He was headed for the counter—and the pizzas he'd evidently ordered for his work crew—when, out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the pair holding hands in the booth.

Tori saw him hesitate, as if resolving to ignore them and leave. But knowing Will, she had a feeling that wouldn't happen. Instinctively, she tried to pull her hand free. Drew tightened his clasp in a gesture of possession, pinning her palm firmly against the tabletop.

The two men had never met, but there was little doubt they recognized each other. Will would know Drew because he was with Tori. And Drew, sensing Tori's sudden reaction, would guess that he was looking at her ex-husband.

Jaw set, Will turned and walked toward them, taking his time, like a bull elk sizing up a rival. He was dusty, unshaven, and windburned, his eyes still reddened from smoke as he loomed over the table. “Will Tyler.” His voice was a hoarse growl. “Pardon me if I don't shake hands. I've been shoveling ashes most of the morning.”

Drew had risen. He was almost as tall as Will, but a few years younger and probably twenty pounds lighter. In a physical fight his only chance would be to run. “Drew Middleton,” he introduced himself. “Tori was just telling me that your barn burned. I'm sorry. Nobody deserves that kind of bad luck.”

“Something tells me it was more than bad luck,” Will said. “But even knowing for sure won't bring the barn back. Sorry I can't stay and visit. I've got a hungry crew to feed—even got the bunkhouse cook working the line.” He turned away, then glanced back. “You two enjoy your lunch.”

“You're welcome to join us,” Drew said needlessly.

“Another time, maybe.” Will walked to the counter, paid with his credit card, and carried the stack of pizza boxes out the door.

Drew had taken his seat again. He took a sip of the Coke the waitress had left on the table. “So that's your ex-husband,” he said. “He's pretty, uh . . . formidable.”

“Will can be overbearing.” Tori stirred creamer into her coffee. “But he's a good man and a good father. Erin adores him. If I don't win this case, I don't know what she'll do.”

“And what will
you
do, Tori?” He captured her hand again. “Something tells me there's more at stake here than Erin's feelings.”

“Of course there is. The charges against Will are ridiculous, but for some reason the prosecution is out to get him. I can't let an innocent man go to prison, especially knowing what being there would do to him, and to his family.”

“And to you?” His fingers tightened around hers. “Are you still in love with him, Tori?”

Her heart gave a thud, like a rock hitting the bottom of a well. “Of course not. We've stayed friends for Erin's sake. But when we were married, we drove each other crazy. Most of the time I can barely tolerate the man.”

He released her hand as the waitress brought their meals and set them on the table, but his light hazel eyes continued to hold hers. “I'm not a fool,” he said. “You're the woman of my dreams, and I want you for keeps. But when you're in my arms, I need to know it's me you're thinking about, not another man. I understand that you have to put this trial behind you. But once it's done, whatever the outcome, I'll need you to give me an answer.”

“I understand.” Tori poked at the sandwich on her plate, her appetite gone. “You've been an angel of patience, Drew. I promise I won't keep you waiting much longer.”

“I'm holding you to that. If you say yes to me, I expect it to be a hundred percent. No hanging on to the past, agreed?”

“Of course. That would be the only way.”
And it would,
Tori thought,
but maybe it is time.
For the past eight years, she'd been living in limbo, caught between her work in town and the ranch, never moving beyond that half-life with Will that was more than friendship, yet no longer a marriage.

Now she'd been given a chance to change all that. Drew was a good man—intelligent, sensitive, kind, and patient. She was physically attracted to him—not in love yet, but she could be, once the baggage with Will dropped away. She could almost imagine saying yes to him.

Drew picked up a French fry, swirled it in the ketchup on his plate, and put it down again. It appeared he had no more appetite than Tori did.

“What is it?” she asked. “Is there something you haven't told me?”

“You're very perceptive,” he said. “As a matter of fact, there is. It's the reason I came back here early—to talk it over with you.”

“Tell me,” she said.

“I've been offered a new job—assistant principal at a big school in a wealthy district that can afford to pay teachers what they're worth. I'd be making twice what I make here, to say nothing of the chance to move up the ladder. The job would start spring semester.”

“So, have you said yes?” Tori spoke calmly, but her head was already spinning with the implications of what she'd just heard.

“I promised them an answer within two weeks,” he said. “If I take the job, my assistant could handle things here till they found a replacement. It's short notice, but given what the job could do for my career track, I can't imagine turning it down.”

“And where is this educator's paradise?” Tori struggled to ignore the flip-flopping sensation in her stomach.

“Seattle—a great area close to the university. You could find plenty of legal work, or even go back to school if you wanted. You could—” He broke off with a nervous laugh. “Why are you staring at me like that? Don't you know I'm asking you to come with me? With a ring on your finger or without—your choice. This isn't really a proposal, unless. . .” He reached over and captured her hand again. “Unless you want it to be.” He paused, an uncertain look creeping over his handsome features. “So what do you think?”

Tori found her voice. “I'm just wondering about Erin.”

“She'd love it,” he said. “Beautiful, green city, lots of culture, friends, and things to do. You could put her in a good private school, take her on trips, give her a chance to learn about the world beyond Blanco Springs . . .” He shook his head. “Sorry. I know I'm rushing you. I know you need to focus on the trial. Just promise me you'll keep it in mind. That's all I ask.”

Tori willed herself to breathe. “I will. Don't expect much from me until the trial's over. But when it's done, you'll have my decision.”

“I understand, and I won't push you.” He released her hand and glanced down at her tuna melt. “Your food's gone cold. Let me order you something else.”

“Thanks, but I'm a bit emotional right now.” She rose and reached for her coat. “I hope you'll give me a rain check when things calm down.”

“Sure. But you'll think about what I said, won't you?” He got up to walk her to her wagon.

“Of course.” How could she
not
think about it?

She was still thinking about it as she drove back to the ranch. Drew's proposal—or whatever it had been—had caught her like a flash flood in a narrow draw, leaving her shaken and confused.

She should have turned him down on the spot and saved both of them the pain of uncertainty. So why hadn't she? Maybe there was a reason. Maybe leaving Blanco Springs and going to Seattle with Drew could turn out to be the best decision she'd ever made—for herself, as well as for Erin, who'd never experienced the world outside rural Texas. Or it could turn out to be a disaster for all concerned. Either way, she couldn't make an intelligent choice until after the trial.

As she pulled up to the house, she could see the work crew clearing away the ruins of the barn. Will was with them, looming over the others as he paused to shout directions or stooped to help drag a heavy timber free of the rubble. He would work until he dropped from exhaustion and never say a word about what was bothering him. That was Will's way when he was worried, especially if he happened to be unhappy with
her.

Seeing her with Drew hadn't sat well with him, she knew. Oh, he'd hidden it, but Tori knew the signs. He'd been too polite, too congenial, too cool. And while he was talking to Drew, he'd scarcely given her a glance.

She'd planned to stay in town overnight, for some needed quiet time. But that had been before Drew called and before Will had shown up at the Burger Shack. Now, although it shouldn't be allowed to matter, she'd felt compelled to come back to the ranch. She needed to let Will know she was here.

Beau's Jeep was gone, and Erin was nowhere in sight. Inside the house Tori found a note on her daughter's closed bedroom door.

The house was quiet. Bernice was probably napping, and Tori had seen Jasper on the Kubota yard tractor, hovering around the workers who were clearing the barn. Even if he couldn't work, the old cowboy would want to be part of the action, and maybe do some supervising.

Savoring the silence, Tori sank into the cushions of the well-worn leather sofa. The stress of the past few weeks was getting to her. She'd forgotten the last time she'd had a decent night's sleep. It felt good just to sit here in the familiar stillness and close her eyes for a moment . . . just for a moment . . .

* * *

Will had come back to the house to phone the insurance company, submit some forms on line, and order a batch of supplies for the new barn. He was headed down the hall to the ranch office and happened to glance into the living room. Tori was on the couch, fast asleep.

He'd seen her drive up to the house about an hour ago, but he'd been too preoccupied with the barn work to pay much attention. Now he found himself wondering why she hadn't stayed in town with her new boyfriend.

Giving in to an urge, he walked into the room and stood looking down at her. She was curled on her side, her knees tucked up, her head resting on a cushion. Tangles of spun-gold hair framed her face and spilled over the suede pillow. Shadows of weariness rimmed her closed eyes. Seeing her in her sleep, he realized how tired she must be and how much of herself she'd given to helping him.

As always, Will had counted on her competence and her willingness to do her job, whatever it took. Only today, seeing her holding hands with Drew Middleton, had it hit him how much he'd taken her for granted. Tori was a beautiful, intelligent, sexy woman. He needed her like he needed air to breathe and water to drink. But needing her wasn't enough—not unless he had something she needed in return. And Middleton seemed to be filling her needs just fine.