Authors: Emma Lang
Olivia could hardly suck in a breath.
Benjamin
. The youngest of the eight Graham children. The precocious five-year-old who had been missing for more than six months. His absence had left a hole in their family, a break in the circle of eight.
“What about Benjamin?” She could hardly take in a breath, her heart beat so hard.
“I need to talk to your brother. I’ll wait until he comes back.” The taciturn ranger sipped at his drink, making her want to upend the cup right in his lap.
“When Matt isn’t here, I am in charge. I’m only a few years younger than he and I take care of the books for the ranch.” She gritted her teeth to keep from cussing the man out. “Whatever you can tell him, you can tell me.”
“Nope, won’t do that. We had a deal, him and me, and it doesn’t involve you.” He glanced at Eva. “Your coffee is good, as always. Do you have any bread to go with it?”
“Don’t you dare give him any bread.” Olivia knew she was more likely to catch flies with honey than vinegar, but the man’s refusal to talk with her was infuriating. “He needs to tell me what he knows before he gets anything else from the Grahams.”
She folded her arms across her chest and gave him her best “you will do what I say” look. He only shrugged and kept sipping his coffee.
Eva frowned at her. “
Hija,
you must be nice to Ranger Armstrong. He is a good man.”
Olivia snorted. “I’ll believe that when he treats me like a person instead of a pain in the ass.”
“You are a pain in the ass.”
At first she could hardly believe he’d said it, but then when it sank in, a chuckle burst out of her mouth. She didn’t want to be amused by his smart mouth, but she was.
“So are you. Now tell me what you know. I won’t tell anyone. I just need to know.” She fiddled with the cup in front of her, embarrassed to be reduced to begging. “He’s my brother too.”
The ranger stared at her with his unblinking gaze long enough to make her squirm. Olivia didn’t look away though. She refused to let him intimidate her. Too many men had tried that, unsuccessfully.
“Please.” That she’d said please to the man twice—twice!—in one day stuck in her craw.
He finally looked away, out the window. “I found a man who worked for Jeb Stinson.”
That was a piece of news. Jeb was their neighbor, a friend who had betrayed the whole community by sending a gang to kill ranchers, then buying their land for pennies on the dollar. He had hanged for his crimes but had refused to name his accomplices.
The Circle Eight was one of the ranches that had been attacked, and Olivia had lost both her parents and her little brother that day. She still had nightmares about seeing her mother and father’s bodies. She also had a hard time trusting anyone, even her neighbors, because of Jeb and what he’d done.
“Did you arrest the man?”
“Only for being drunk, but he wouldn’t give me anything until I told him his neck would stretch if he didn’t tell me what he knew.” Armstrong looked back at Olivia. “He said Jeb had a place south of here where all the stolen goods were hidden.”
“What about the missing people from the ranches?”
She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer, but with Benjy still missing, there were hard choices everyone had to make.
“Mexico.”
Olivia’s stomach quivered at the word “Mexico.”
The war was still so fresh in everyone’s mind, the idea Jeb would have easily betrayed his country and the veterans who had fought, was unfathomable.
“My God.” She glanced at Eva, who looked as horrified as she felt. “He’s so small. What do you suppose has happened to him?”
The ranger shook his head. “I’ve said too much.”
“If you think for one minute you are not telling me everything, you’re mistaken.” She got to her feet and leaned toward him. “Tell me now.”
He regarded her for a few moments before the corner of his mouth kicked up. “Anyone ever tell you that you have brass balls?”
“No, and I don’t know what that means. Just tell me, for God’s sake.” She gripped the table to keep from shaking him.
“It means you are standing there yelling at a Texas Ranger, telling him what to do, without a bit of fear.” He got to his feet and Olivia remembered just how tall Armstrong was. She had to crane her neck to look at him. “That takes brass balls.”
“Fine, then I’ve got brass balls. Now tell me what I want to know.”
His lashes were absurdly long and thick. They looked like a woman’s lashes, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. It was an awkward time to be noticing his features. She was too distracted to think straight.
“I’m headed out in the morning to follow my lead. You can tell Matt I’ll be back in a couple of weeks.” With that, the ranger stood up and nodded to Eva. “Much obliged for the coffee,
señora. Es delicioso
.” Pretty as he pleased, the ranger left the house.
“De nada.”
The housekeeper gave Olivia a look that told her to pursue the man.
She already planned on it.
Brody Armstrong walked out of the Graham house and sucked in a breath of the humid air. No matter how sticky it was outside, it was better than staying in the house. Olivia Graham was as annoying as a tick burrowing into his skin. Even though she was pretty enough to make his eyes hurt, her mouth made his head hurt. She never shut up and the woman was bossier than any military general.
He really wanted to talk to Matt, but he couldn’t wait around for him. The shack he’d found out about was just a few miles outside of town. Brody planned to investigate the shack before his source woke up from his drunken stupor and was released from jail.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Armstrong didn’t answer her but his hands fisted at the sound of her schoolmarm tone. He kept walking toward his paint. The pinto was his best friend, confidante and the only companion he ever wanted to travel with.
“I asked you a question.”
“I don’t have to answer.” He untied the horse’s reins and had just put his foot in the stirrup when she clamped onto his arm like a hundred-twenty-pound cocklebur. There was no way he was going to notice just how soft her breasts were, or how she was tall enough that he didn’t hurt his neck looking down at her.
“You will not leave this ranch without telling me everything.” There was a frantic note beneath the annoyance in her voice. “I have to know.”
He had never been pressed up against her before. Her sweet breath spread across his face. Damned if her eyes weren’t almost the color of turquoise, the bluish-green color unique to the Graham family. Her skin was honey colored, perfect except for a mole right at the corner of her mouth.
He wanted to kiss that mole.
Holy hell. Where had that thought come from? Brody wanted nothing to do with Olivia. Nothing.
Nada.
She was trouble and more work than any man ought to put up with. He had no time for a woman, least of all one like her.
“There are things I don’t think you should know. And there are things I don’t know yet. I ain’t about to tell you partial truths or the drunken stories of a half-Indian I found in a tavern twenty miles from here.” He leaned in even closer until their noses almost touched. “I am a man of the law. Let me do my job or I will put your pretty ass in jail.”
She stared at him, her eyes getting a sheen that looked suspiciously like tears. Impossible. Not the unflappable, tough as nails Olivia Graham. She glanced away and cleared her throat.
“Where are you going? Can you at least tell me that?”
“I told you. Mexico. I’ll be back in a couple of weeks.” He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she moved back and he sucked in a much needed gulp of air.
“Isn’t it dangerous? I mean, it’s been such a short time since the war.” She frowned, the hint of tears gone.
“Of course it’s dangerous. Being a Texas Ranger is about danger, but it’s also about doing what’s right for Texas and its citizens.” He patted her shoulder awkwardly. “I’ll be fine. I’ve done it before.” He didn’t have the suave tongue that others did. His skills were in fighting, tracking and shooting. None of which helped him now.
Brody got up on his horse before she could grab him again. He tried not to look into her eyes, at the anger and confusion he would see there. She had to realize there were things a man did and things a woman did. He wasn’t about to involve her in his investigation. It was much bigger than the kidnapping of Benjamin Graham. The child’s disappearance was a piece in a larger puzzle, but Brody would do his best to find the boy, even though his discovery might bring the family as much heartache as his disappearance.
As he rode away, he thought about all the things that could happen to a young white child in the wild. He could have been sold to an Indian tribe, to a Mexican family, or even another Texas family. No matter what the case, Benjy was not going to be the same little boy who’d disappeared six months earlier.
It was a piece of truth he couldn’t bring himself to tell Olivia. If he did, she might not believe him, or worse, might try to find him herself. That was all kinds of wrong, more trouble than Brody cared to contemplate.
It was best for all that Olivia Graham stayed put.
He rode for two hours toward the deserted cabin that had held the stolen goods from Jeb’s gang. He thought hard as he rode, trying to puzzle out just what Jeb could have done with the people he’d taken. The women were easier to figure out than the children. Jeb had given the law no information after his arrest, and now that he’d hanged for his crimes, there would be none forthcoming.
Then there was the disappearance of Jeb’s own sister, Margaret, who’d been missing for three months. Supposedly she’d been having tea with Olivia when she’d vanished without a trace. Their father, Frederick, was now a broken man who rarely left his house, and had sold most of his land and cattle.
Jeb had decimated his own family for profit. That left a rotten taste in Brody’s mouth. No matter what he believed, family was blood and blood was thicker than anything. He and his brothers had been through hell and back, and he was the only one who’d survived. He sympathized with the Grahams and the pain of losing Benjamin.
The loss of their parents had been bad enough, but at least death brought with it a kind of closure. Benjy’s disappearance kept their pain and grief alive, without any end in sight. The Grahams assured him they had moved on, but he knew they hadn‘t really. Every time he came to the ranch, they asked him about the boy. It killed him not to be able to give them news, any kind of news. The boy had vanished just as Margaret Stinson had. Into thin air.
He slowed his horse to a slow walk as he got closer to where he thought the cabin was. He was always on guard, even if he didn’t see a speck of dust move or hear a peep. Being a Texas Ranger was a dangerous job, but after his brothers’ deaths, it seemed a good choice for him. He didn’t regret signing up, and when his year was over, he would continue on. He saw the good that could come of keeping law and order.
He pulled the horse to a stop near a copse of trees. The cabin was tucked behind them, a tiny shack with only one window and a broken hitching post out front. He dismounted and left the horse ground-tied. Domingo was trained to stay put, untied, to allow Brody to leave in a hurry. The horse’s training had worked to his advantage many times.
He stood there for several minutes listening to the sounds around him. There were birds rustling in the leaves above, but no human sounds, and no horse sounds either. If anyone was around, nature would tell him, and he always paid attention.
After taking the rifle from its scabbard, he approached the shack. He needed to look for clues, but only had a couple of hours before he had to find the Mexican he’d been told about, one of Jeb’s hired thugs. The half-Indian, Bluehound, would be out of jail as soon as he sobered up, and Brody was sure he’d warn the Mexican first off. That left Brody just enough time to snoop around the shack.
The soft grass swayed around his legs as he walked toward the building. He scanned the woods as he moved toward the door. The wood was warped with age, its cheap hinges hanging off the frame. The window only had half its glass, the jagged edges gaping like sharp teeth. He peered in, seeing nothing but shadows and dust. Brody glanced behind him before he pulled the door open. A gust of stale air hit him and he waved away the rancid stench. Something, or someone, had died in there.
Brody hesitated for only a few seconds before he went inside. He pulled his neckerchief up over his mouth and nose to block the stench. His eyes were watering already and he hadn’t even found the rotting corpse yet.
Broken crates littered one corner with what appeared to be canned vegetables. Beside the broken crates were piles of clothing, nothing high quality, just everyday folks’ clothes. Some of them had rust-colored spots he suspected were blood. He tried not to look at the tiny dress crumpled at the corner of the pile, its yellow fabric stained. A burlap sack was near the back wall, a three-legged stool lying in the dirt nearby. The sack had dark blotches that told him whatever smelled lay beneath it.
He used the end of his rifle to pull up the burlap. Before he could even get a good look at whatever it was, he spun around after hearing a shuffle near the door, his rifle cocked and ready.
“Good Lord!” Olivia Graham dropped to her knees, her arms over her head. “Don’t shoot me, Brody.”
His finger twitched on the trigger; the rifle was customized to his touch, and the only reason she wasn’t dead. “What the hell are you doing here?”
More important, how had she sneaked up behind him without a whisper of noise? He was a trained tracker and a Texas Ranger. Rancher’s daughters did not sneak up on him. Ever.
Until now.
“Following you. I couldn’t let you leave without knowing what happened to Benjamin. I figured the best way to do that was travel with you.”
“Not a chance.” He gestured to the door. “Go home.”
“Not a chance.” She threw his words back at him, then grimaced. “What is that smell?”
He had a moment’s consideration for the fact that she was a woman, then decided maybe a rotting corpse was the perfect way to shake her off his tail. “A dead body.”