Can't Stop Believing (HARMONY) (18 page)

“Yes, sir,” she said, trying to get ahead of him. “Miss Britain is in an important meeting, but I’ll tell her you’re here.”

When she glanced at a closed double door, Cord knew he’d be wasting his time bothering with the receptionist. “I’ll tell her myself and her name is no longer Britain, it’s McDowell.”

He opened the door and walked in before he changed his mind or the rabbit thought of pouncing on him.

Half a room away, Nevada stood talking to two men in suits. All three held papers in their hands, but the gray-haired suit looked like he’d paused in midsentence.

Cord made it three more steps before he heard security rushing toward him from a side door. For a blink, they reminded him of the prison guards, beefy and determined. Only now, Cord wouldn’t back down. He stood his ground as they advanced.

Nevada raised her hand before they reached him. “It’s all right. Don’t touch him.”

Every one of her employees looked confused.

“Gentlemen,” she said calmly, “this is my husband, and if he’s here, I’m sure it’s something important, so I’ll have to ask you all to step out for a moment.”

The older lawyer looked bothered, but he walked out, closing the door behind him with a bang.

Cord stood, facing Nevada from five feet away. Here in her tailored pantsuit and her hair tied up in a knot, she looked hard as stone.
This
woman could handle anything he had to tell her. It crossed his mind that he would have never fallen in love with Nevada if this were all he knew of her, but Cord knew the woman inside all the polish and ice.

“What is it?” She seemed impatient, but not unkind. “I’ve got a full schedule this morning, but you obviously have something to say that can’t wait. So tell me.”

He stared into her eyes, wondering where the woman he’d made love to only hours ago had gone. Maybe she was always like this at work. He’d stepped into her world. He’d stepped into where he didn’t belong and hadn’t been invited.

“One of your mares was found down this morning. She’d been poisoned.”

For a heartbeat, she didn’t move. She just stared at him.

He forced it all out, knowing the blow would be no lighter if delayed. “Someone broke into your barn about dawn.”

Color drained from her face. “Is the mare dead?”

“No. Not yet. The vet says she’s got better than a fifty-fifty chance, but there may be internal damage.”

He hadn’t realized he was moving toward her until he reached to brush her arms. “We loaded her up and sent her to the vet’s. He’ll watch over her. Galem called while I was driving in and said whoever did it didn’t know horses. He bloodied the mare’s lip forcing down the poison.”

She backed away from Cord and gulped for air, then raised her arms at him. At first, he thought she was trying to block his words, but then she swung at him.

Cord didn’t move. Didn’t try to defend against the blows as she pounded on him. The pain in her eyes was so great, he barely felt the hits. She was lost in a horror she’d always feared would come true.

“I told you never to move my horses.”

She sobbed so deeply he could barely understand her. He knew the blows were not aimed at him, but at the world. “No one touches my horses. No one hurts them. My daddy promised. Never again.”

Engulfing her in a bear hug, he held on tightly as she struggled against him and swore, calling him names. As she cried, he knew her pain was bleeding through an old wound that had never healed. All he could do was stand and let her rage.

After a while, she stopped and, leaning her head on his shoulder, cried.

“It’s all right, Babe,” he whispered. “It’s going to be all right.” His hand pulled the pins from her hair and dug his fingers into the golden strands. “I didn’t want you to hear it from anyone but me. I couldn’t let the horse die without a fight. You’ve got to trust that we did all we could, and the vet is still working.”

She pushed her forehead against him. “You came because you didn’t want me killing any messenger you sent.”

He relaxed a bit and smiled. “Well, there was that. I figured you could kill me and no one would care. Hell, no one likes me anyway.” He kissed her forehead. “Besides, I had a pretty good idea how you’d react, and if my wife is going to pound on anyone, it better be me.”

“That part of the ‘for better or worse’ section of our contract?”

“Something like that.” His hold gentled and she rocked slowly in his arms, letting her breathing slow to normal.

“Now that you know what’s happened, we can go over to the vet’s together. I’m right here, Nevada. We’ll figure out who did this in time, but right now we’ll worry about the horse.”

She nodded and stepped away to blow her nose. The office door opened.

“Are you all right?” The gray-haired lawyer was back. “I heard crying and shouting. I’ve got security out here and we’ve called the sheriff.”

“I’m fine,” Nevada said, as she pulled herself together as calmly as she straightened her jacket.

Cord stepped in front of her. “My wife is upset. One of her prize horses was hurt this morning.” He forced his fists to relax. “I appreciate your concern.” Now that he knew Nevada was back in control, there was no reason to keep the facts a secret. “I called the sheriff before I left the ranch.” He looked at the rabbit of a receptionist. “If you’ll call her office and tell her we’ll meet her at the ranch, I’d appreciate it.”

The girl jumped to the door and vanished. The old lawyer, if possible, looked even more angry. “Nevada, you know who did this. You know.”

Nevada moved to Cord’s side and leaned into him. He widened his stance to brace her.

“We don’t know for sure. Bryce is too clever to leave any clues. Even if he’s doing it, he’s planning on me firing up and doing something stupid. This time I’m not falling into his trap.”

She slipped her hand into Cord’s. “I want to check on my horse and then talk to the sheriff. If you gentlemen will excuse me, I’ll reschedule this meeting for later today.”

Nevada held it together until they were in his truck, and then she leaned against him and cried all the way to the vet’s clinic.

N
EVADA
SAT
BESIDE
S
TARLIGHT
AS
D
OC
F
REEMAN
TALKED
about the damage done by the poison. Tears fell unchecked when he said the mare had already lost the colt she carried. Between the loss of blood and the injuries, it would be an uphill climb.

“I don’t usually suggest this,” the vet said, “but she’s in a great deal of pain. If you want me to, I’ll put her down.”

Nevada couldn’t speak. She just shook her head and heard Cord telling the doc to do all he could first. “We don’t want her to suffer, but if she’s got a chance to pull through, we want to give her that chance.”

Starlight hadn’t been her first horse, but Nevada was more girl than woman when she bought her. At first her mother had insisted that only the trainer ride the horse, but within two weeks Nevada was sneaking away from the house and taking Starlight for midnight runs in the pasture. To her the horses were her friends, each very different, each loved for different reasons.

When she was eight, her father moved her first three ponies to the back pasture with the cattle. During a storm, two had frozen to death. Only one had survived, just barely. Nevada had cried for weeks. She swore at the time she would never care that much again for anything or anyone, but she couldn’t stop herself. She loved horses. And now, someone hated her enough to hurt her again by hurting one of them.

Nevada pressed her face into Starlight’s mane and felt as if she might lose an old friend. People always let her down, but her horses never had.

When Cord offered his hand to help her up, she shook her head. “I’ll stay awhile. I don’t want to leave her alone.”

“We need to talk to the sheriff.” Cord’s voice was low and calm. Not an order, just a fact.

“You go. I’ll be here when you get back.”

He touched her shoulder. “Call if you need me. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

She nodded and laid her head down next to the mare just as she had once before when she was eight. The last pony was still alive when they found him that winter, but her father shot him, claiming the pony wasn’t strong enough to make it back to the barn. The first bullet hadn’t killed the animal.

Nevada dropped to the pony and hugged him as if she could help.

When her father saw the damage he’d done to his daughter, he’d pulled Nevada off the animal, angry both at himself and at the child for making such a scene.

She’d heard the second shot as Galem carried her away from her pet. She cried for days and refused to eat. Her mother promised her another horse, then a barn of her own. But it was her father’s promise never to go near her horses again that finally stopped the crying.

He hated that he’d given in to his tiny daughter, but he kept his word. Even let her put up wooden fences in her pasture and breed her horses. By the time his wife died and he could have gone back on his word about the horses, Nevada had her own money for their care and her father had other worries to occupy his time.

Kneeling down close she brushed the mare’s warm neck. Through all her life she’d known that she was only a play toy to her mother and a bother to her father, but to her horses, she was a friend. She loved them and they loved her back, without question. Without judgment.

She closed her eyes and envisioned herself riding Starlight across the midnight pastures.

“Nevada?” The vet’s voice woke her.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep.”

“Your mare’s resting easy now. If she holds on, I think she might just make it.”

She smiled up at the doc. He was one of the few people she knew who loved horses as much as she did. “You mind if I stay a little longer? My husband will be back for me soon.”

Dr. Freeman smiled. “I have no doubt. I never saw a man look so worried when I pulled up to the mare. It took me a while to figure out that it was you and not the horse he was worried about. You might love this animal, but that man loves you. He couldn’t stand the notion that something might hurt you.”

Nevada shook her head. The doc was wrong. She almost told him that all they had was a pretend marriage. But they’d agreed to play it like it was real, and she’d keep that promise.

“He was just afraid of how angry I’d be. He says I tend to storm, and I guess he’s right.”

“Nope. He’s not afraid of your anger. A man don’t walk right into what he’s afraid of. As soon as we’d done all we could in the field, he said he was headed to you. He didn’t want anyone telling you but him. That doesn’t sound like a man afraid.”

C
ORD
DROVE
TOWARD
THE
RANCH
WHILE
HE
GOT
AN
update from Galem on the phone. The cook told him that Zeb had reported back that the trainer, Joey Mason, wasn’t at home. They pounded so hard on his door that the neighbor came out to say that if his car wasn’t in the drive, they were probably wasting their time.

So far the trainer’s only crime was coming in late to work, and he’d like to keep it that way.

As soon as he closed the phone, Cord swung the truck around in the center of the road and headed toward the old part of Harmony. An idea had been dancing in his mind since he first thought that Bryce Galloway might have something to do with not only the horse, but other trouble they’d had lately. He needed help from someone who’d walked both sides of the law all his life, and Cord could think of only one man who might fit the bill.

Minutes later he pulled up in front of the duplex where Ronny Logan lived. She was taking groceries out of her car when he arrived. Cord jumped out and hurried up to her.

As he neared, Mr. Carleon stepped out of the house and took the grocery bags.

Cord couldn’t hear what Ronny said, but the man nodded a hello and vanished back inside.

“How’s Marty?” Cord asked as he neared. He didn’t know Marty well, but he liked the man. Plus, anyone Ronny obviously loved so much had to be worth liking.

“About the same. Addison gave him something new for the pain and he seems to be resting easier this morning.” Ronny smiled her shy smile. “But you look like hell, Cord.”

“It’s been a hard morning.” He didn’t have time to explain, but he did try to dust a little of the dirt off his jeans. “I came to ask a favor if you’ve got a minute for me to pick your brain.”

“I’ll help any way I can.”

Cord started with the facts. “The first few months, when I was in prison, there was another guy in my unit who said he was from Harmony. He was only there awhile, but I remember one of the guards saying that once he was free he’d disappear. They called him Cam and I don’t remember his last name.”

Ronny shook her head, telling Cord he might be wasting his time, but he pushed on.

“One of the cons claimed he’d left Harmony to work a crew on a small-time movie production company. He ended up settling down in the Dallas area and between working on film crews, he turned to crime. He would move into a nice neighborhood, blend in with everyone, rob the houses one by one in daylight, and then disappear without anyone being able to give the cops a good description of him. The guy said he never got caught because he was the most bland, plain-vanilla person who mixed into a crowd. No marks, no scars, no accent, nothing stood out about the man.”

Ronny smiled. “What did he look like in prison?”

Cord shrugged. “I don’t really remember. Not tall or short. Medium build. Nothing specific. The guy hung around like faded wallpaper. When I met him, he had his earlobe bandaged because he said his new wife had ripped out his earring in the fight before she called the cops on him. Mumbled something about living a life of crime and ending up in prison because the one woman he loved forgot to love him back.

“He was only there for a few months, so everyone figured she must have dropped the charges against him. But, like some guys do, he bragged about the jobs he’d pulled to the other cons.”

Ronny waited, listening to every word.

“I was wondering if there is any chance you know where Cam Whatever might be. Doesn’t the postal service know everyone? I’m guessing he didn’t go back to Dallas to reconnect with his wife, and if he’s gone straight, he’s probably working around town. The one time I talked to him he told me he loved Harmony, so I figure he might have come back.”

Ronny frowned. “The sheriff might know, but I can’t think of anyone. Lots of people look like that, I guess, just customers on the other side of the desk. I don’t pay much attention sometimes.”

She shrugged. “There’s one guy who comes to mind that I’ve waited on a few times. Only thing about him I thought strange was the round sunglasses he wore. You know, like he thought he was Truman Capote. Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

“If you think of more, let me know.” He started to walk away, then paused. “If you need me—”

“I know. I’ll call.” Her smile was sad, as if she knew the time was coming.

Cord climbed back into his truck and headed for the ranch. He’d deal with the sheriff and help any way he could and then go back after Nevada. He hated thinking about her lying in the hay beside the horse. He’d never seen her like this. Broken. He had no idea how to help.

When he reached the barn where she kept her horses, several cars he didn’t recognize were clustered around the front. One was a sheriff’s cruiser. The silent flashing lights brought back bad memories of ten years ago when the lights had flashed in the dark stillness of midnight.

It had been hot that night and the air so dry it seemed to suck the moisture out of everything. A dozen of what had been Harmony’s wild crowd in high school had gone out to celebrate the Fourth of July by setting off fireworks at the lake. They knew it was illegal in the drought of summer, but they all figured they could see a cop car coming from far enough away to vanish before they got caught.

Cord didn’t remember much about the night. A campfire. Couples scattered around in the dark. He was two weeks away from being eighteen and thought he was bulletproof after half a bottle of whiskey. He must have passed out after complaining to anyone who would listen that his dad was going to make him go to college.

What he thought was a stick woke him with a hard poke in the stomach. Someone was yelling at him, screaming for him to get up and shining a flashlight right in his face.

He came up swinging and connected solidly with the intruder’s jaw. The stick that had stabbed Cord turned out to be the barrel of a rifle. When the shadow’s head flew back from the blow, the rifle fired wild, lighting the night. For a blink Cord watched a man in a uniform fall on the rocky shoreline.

For months after that, through the trial and going to prison, Cord would relive that one moment over and over in dreams. The cop shouting in pain. The night so black. And then always in the background the voice from several feet away whispering into radio static. “Officer down. Send backup with an ambulance.” Finally, a flashlight’s beam passing back and forth across the camp as if on guard until more help arrived.

The rest of that night was a blur. He’d knelt beside the downed cop trying to see where he was hurt, but it had been too dark. The voice that had radioed for help ordered him to raise his hands or he’d shoot. Cord felt warm blood on the cop’s face and threw up while he felt his hands being cuffed behind him. The other cop grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved Cord down into the dirt spotted with vomit and blood.

“Cord?” A woman’s voice drew him out of his nightmare. “Cord McDowell.”

He cut the truck’s engine and climbed out. Despite the sun, he removed his hat. “Sheriff Matheson. I’m sorry. I was thinking about something.”

The slender sheriff walked closer.

She smiled. “You looked a million miles away. I haven’t seen enough of you lately to recognize you, but my message box was full of people telling me you wanted to see me. I came as fast as I could and we’re already working the crime scene.”

He had to make himself raise his eyes from the ground. Too many years of not looking at guards directly made it a hard habit to break. “I know this was just a horse—”

“Stop right there, Cord.” The sheriff started walking toward the barn and he followed along beside her. “I’m from ranch folks and am married to a man who loves horses. There is no such thing as ‘just a horse.’ You and I come from generations of people who know the importance of horses. In fact, it wasn’t so long ago when stealing a man’s horse was a hanging offense, so don’t you think we’re going to take this lightly.”

“Thanks,” he said, feeling good that he’d had Galem call her. Sheriff Alex Matheson was as good an officer of the law as he’d ever seen. When he’d first gotten out, she’d been the only law officer who hadn’t threatened to keep an eye on him.

She paused and turned to look at Cord. “We’ve brought in a Texas Ranger to help with the investigation. He’s a brand inspector and knows cattle and horses better than most. He’s been working a rustling problem nearby and offered to help.”

Cord saw a stout man dressed in a tan shirt and pants heading toward him. He was a few inches shorter but seemed all business. His Stetson shadowed his face as he offered his hand to Cord.

Cord took the offered hand in a strong grip as the ranger looked up and said, “Ranger Travis Salem.”

For a moment both men froze.

Cord hadn’t seen
Deputy
Salem in almost ten years. Memories of a young cop in his late twenties with a bandage over his eye were nothing like the ranger in his late thirties with graying hair and fifty pounds added to his build.

“Cord McDowell,” the ranger said without emotion. “I wouldn’t have recognized you.”

The sheriff seemed unaware of the two men’s past as she watched the movements of her deputies and the cowhands still surrounding the barn. “We’ve found a few clues, but your boys didn’t make it easy, tromping all over my crime scene before I got here. One even picked up the bucket of poison, ruining any chance of fingerprints.”

Travis Salem moved closer to Cord and lowered his voice before he loosened his grip and the handshake died. “We’ve got a man killing horses to deal with right now, McDowell, but when this is over, I’d like it if you and I could talk.”

Cord didn’t move. This man’s testimony had sent him to prison. He said Cord had attacked, and there were no witnesses to stand with Cord when he said he swung wild without knowing it was an officer of the law. The patch over Salem’s eye had been a constant reminder to the jury of the damage Cord had done.

“You don’t have to talk to me, Cord,” Ranger Salem added. “I can’t order you to, but I think it’s something that needs to be done.”

All the times guards had ordered him around or asked him to do something when he knew he had no choice in the matter piled up in his throat. There were no
yes, sirs
left in him. “I’ll think about it,” Cord answered. “Right now, all that’s on my mind is protecting my wife’s horses.”

The ranger seemed to understand. He pulled out a notepad and began rattling off facts. The sheriff joined them.

“I’ve got two of my deputies out looking for the trainer,” she said. “He may have just left for a day off, but it seems strange that he’d go missing on the same day someone tries to kill a horse.”

“My wife has a standing order that if the trainer takes a weekday off, he calls in to Galem. We’ve got the third key to the barn hanging in the bunkhouse and Galem comes out to feed the horses if Nevada has to stay late in town. Other than them, no one is allowed near the barn.”

“What about you, McDowell? Don’t you have a key to the barn? You run the ranch, don’t you?” Salem wasn’t too friendly.

“I do run the ranch as well as my farm to the south, but we’ve only been married a few weeks and I’ve never needed to get in here before.” He felt the need to add, “When we ride together, I always come back here and help Nevada brush her mount down, then we ride double back to the main barn. So I know where everything is in here and I know the horses are all well taken care of. At least until today.”

“So these horses are not part of the ranch?”

“They belong here. Nevada breeds and trains them. Most of the colts go for several thousand. They’re fine show horses.”

“Seems like a waste of time and money on a working ranch,” the ranger said, as if talking to himself.

Cord didn’t miss the fact that a few of his hands, including Jackson and his brothers, were standing behind him as if ready to back him up.

The ranger paced, then twirled as if he planned to say something dramatic. “Any of your cowhands come to work in shoes and not boots?”

“No.”

Salem held one finger up. “Your wife. Does she have big feet and wear loafers?”

“No, she doesn’t. She wears heels to her office and boots on the ranch.”

“Are you sure about that, McDowell?”

Cord tried not to let any anger show, but he stood his ground. “My wife is afraid of snakes. If she walks the land, she has boots on.”

Galem, never a quiet man, broke from the crowd growing behind Cord. “I can back the boss up. I’ve known her for near twenty years and I’ve never seen her without her boots if she goes beyond the shadow of the house.”

“You telling me your boss is an honest man and I can trust his word?”

Cord heard the men behind him shift as if widening their stance.

Galem did the same. “He is, mister, and I’ll fight any man that says he ain’t, including you if you’ll take off that star on your pocket.”

Alex Matheson obviously had had enough of the tough talk. She stepped between the men and stared at the ranger. “I brought you here to help, Ranger Salem. This is McDowell’s land. He’s got a right to be here. You, however? I’m not sure this case is even in your jurisdiction.”