Can't Stop Believing (HARMONY) (21 page)

One of the older sheriff’s deputies saw Cord and offered him a cup of coffee. Cord was glad when the deputy stayed in the room to hear what the ranger had to say. Cord didn’t know Phil Gentry very well, but he couldn’t start avoiding folks he didn’t know or he’d have to be a hermit.

Ranger Salem pointed to a pile of papers. “The way this is stacking up, McDowell, we don’t have enough hard evidence to charge anyone, even if you and your wife think you know who poisoned the horse. That ex-husband of your wife’s could just say he dropped by the barn one day for old times’ sake. Even if we could prove it was his footprint, we don’t have enough to charge Bryce Galloway.”

Cord wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t expected Travis Salem to help him.

“Galloway, you say,” Phil lowered his coffee. “I just took a complaint from him. He claims he’s being stalked.”

Cord froze. He’d left Cameron fifteen minutes ago. Surely he wasn’t already caught? He hadn’t earned a dollar of the five hundred.

Phil laughed. “Yeah, the guy claims three little widows staying at the bed-and-breakfast tail him everywhere he goes. He says losing them usually takes half the morning, but he’s tired of the hassle.”

Cord relaxed. Just for a minute. Until he realized the women’s interest in the man might mess up Cameron’s tracking possibilities.

“Why would they be following Bryce?” Travis asked, without showing much interest.

“I don’t know. He’s a good-looking man. Maybe they’re all three in love.” Phil poked his cheek with his tongue. “Come to think of it, if I go over there they’ll take one look at Bryce and start following me around. A man with a little gray in his hair is far more attractive to the widow types.” Phil shrugged. “Don’t see how we can charge them with anything. Eating at the same café as Bryce or driving down the same street isn’t a crime that I know of.”

Travis Salem looked like the deputy was interfering with important police work, but since he was a guest in the office he probably figured he shouldn’t start giving orders. The ranger stood politely and waited for Gentry to finish his one-sided conversation.

Cord listened to the deputy while he watched Salem out of the corner of his eye. The ranger didn’t seem any more comfortable around him than he was around the ranger. Surely the guy wasn’t afraid Cord might swing at him again. More than likely, he decided, Travis Salem worried that the lie he’d told ten years ago that had sent Cord to prison might somehow surface.

Only no one had believed Cord’s side of the story back then, and if Cord was guessing, he’d say no one would believe it now.

Cord finished his coffee and headed out. “Let me know if you find anything,” he said to the ranger, then smiled at Phil Gentry, deciding he liked the old deputy. After all, Gentry was one of the few lawmen who hadn’t suggested he leave town permanently. “Good luck with the band of widows. You might think about arresting them to keep them out of trouble.”

Gentry nodded as if he were considering the idea.

Cord made it to the bottom of the front steps before Gentry caught up to him. “Mr. McDowell, you’re a friend of Ronny Logan, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

“I thought I should tell you she was attacked out behind her house last night. Someone hiding in the shadows tried to grab hold of her and she fell backing away. Luckily, she was only bruised, but I tell you, I can’t think of why anyone would do such a thing. The poor girl’s got her basket full of troubles already. With Marty dying, she’s got other things on her mind today, but I’m filing a full report.”

Cord asked a few details, but Gentry didn’t know any more.

“It don’t make any sense.” Phil shook his head. “Everyone likes Ronny, except maybe her mother, and I can’t see that old witch trying to kill her only child. Who would she have to complain about?”

Cord climbed into his truck. Gentry was right. No one would go after Ronny. Unless . . . unless they thought by hurting her they’d be hurting someone else.

When he made it back to the ranch, Nevada was dressed and reading the paper as she nibbled on a muffin. He stood in the kitchen doorway for a moment watching her. When she finally looked up he asked, “Should I run?”

She smiled. “No, I’ve decided to let you live.”

“I’m not backing down on the guard at your barn. I want a man I can trust there.” He figured he might as well face the problem head-on. “The guard stays no matter what you say.”

“Okay,” she said, shocking him.

“No storm?”

“No storm,” she answered. “I think after a month of living with you I’ve figured out that, for the first time in longer than I can remember, I’ve got someone on my side.”

“Want to go with me to make a round of the ranch? I want to check fences and change the codes on all the locked gates going to where your oil rigs are. If someone’s out to cause hell on the Boxed B, I plan to make it as hard on them as I can.”

To his surprise she said yes and pulled on her boots. “Let’s take the old Jeep; I haven’t driven it in a week. If I go much longer it won’t start.”

“Fair enough, but I drive.”

He rested his arm lightly on her shoulder as they walked out behind the barn, where she always parked the Jeep in an old shed that looked like her grandfather had probably built it. More boards were missing from the sides than on it.

“I’m doubling the security at my office. Everything else that has happened lately could be written off as an accident, but not Starlight.”

Cord agreed. “I feel like we’re under attack.”

She smiled up at him. “And we fight, right?”

He kissed the top of her head. “Right, Babe.”

As she moved beside him, he fought the urge to kiss her again. She was becoming a part of him. Everyone he’d ever cared about had turned their backs or died on him. Cord knew she’d do the same when their bargain was finished. She had her secrets and she’d leave before she’d let him any closer, but right now she needed him.

Nevada always left the keys in the ignition and the windows rolled up. Most of the paint was gone on the roof of the Jeep, but Cord guessed it had once been blue, or maybe army green. He couldn’t be sure.

He pulled the driver’s door open as she smiled and swung into the passenger side.

Everything happened in a flash, like lightning hit several places at once.

Nevada screamed.

Cord heard the familiar tick-tick-tick of a rattler’s tail. He’d already extended his hand toward the wheel and felt the hard sudden stab of fangs going into his wrist before he could pull back. When he did step away, the snake came along, attached to his wrist.

The rattlesnake had to be near six feet long and held on as Cord tried to swing it free. His skin ripped when he finally slung the snake a few feet away. More out of instinct than logic, Cord slammed his boot straight down an inch below the snake’s head, pinning it in the dirt.

The body of the snake whipped and coiled around his legs.

Nevada continued to scream for help. She’d managed to climb out of the Jeep, but he couldn’t tell if she’d been bitten.

Cord ground hard, but the dirt around the shed was too soft to kill the snake.

He couldn’t move. If he did, the snake might try to strike again, or worse, slither off. Tightening his fist, he could already feel the numbness moving into his wrist. This was not a dry bite. The snake had injected venom.

Ora Mae came running from the back door of the house as two cowhands rushed from the barn. Like a warrior of old, Ora Mae raised her garden hoe and swung.

Cord closed his eyes, figuring if she missed he would not only have a snakebite to deal with but also a few missing toes.

The hoe hit the rattler just behind the head and severed the body.

Cord stared down, afraid to move. He had no idea if his heart was pounding in his throat because of the venom pumping in his blood or because, for the first time since he got out of prison, he was terrified.

The cowhands reached them just as another snake slithered from the open door of the Jeep. One of the men borrowed Ora Mae’s hoe and killed the second snake with one whack.

Cord moved to Nevada’s side. “Are you bit?” he yelled.

She shook her head as she gulped for air and moved closer to him.

They watched silently as four more snakes were pulled from the Jeep. All were longer than four feet. This was no nest. They’d been planted in the hot vehicle and they didn’t look too happy about it. The windows had been rolled up. Towels for them to hide in had been piled in the backseat.

When Cord pulled off his belt and tied it around his forearm, Nevada saw the bite marks as blood stained his cuff. “We need to get you to the hospital.”

“You drive. I’m not sure I won’t pass out.”

They headed to his truck. He’d only seen one man with a snakebite before. He was a day laborer on his dad’s farm. Cord had been about seven, but he remembered how sick the man looked before they got him to town.

Nevada stopped shaking as anger built in her. She drove so fast he figured a poisonous snakebite might be the least of his problems. Neither talked. They both knew what was at stake.

She pulled into the emergency room drive before either said a word.

“Can you make it in?”

“I can.” Cord was giving serious consideration to a prayer of thanks for surviving the drive. One good thing, she’d taken his mind off the bite. He’d read in books that anyone bitten should remain calm. Fat chance of that. He took a deep breath, testing to see if he had any trouble breathing. No problem, but his arm was starting to swell and he had no feeling in his hand.

She jumped out of the truck and ran around to help him out, then pushed him into the empty emergency room.

While the nurse took him back, Nevada stopped to fill out paperwork. He could tell she didn’t want to leave him, but she was starting to make him more nervous than the dripping blood from the two bite marks.

“I’ll be fine, Babe,” he yelled over his shoulder as they led him away.

“You’d better be.” He could hear the anger in her words and knew if he died on her she’d never forgive him for breaking their bargain.

Dr. Addison Spencer was waiting for him with shots ready and a list of instructions taped to the wall.

He took one look at the shot and said, “I didn’t know you were a gunslinger, Doc.”

She smiled in that
this is going to hurt you more than it does me
kind of way as she pulled his already unbuttoned shirt off his shoulder and shot him.

Cord flinched. “Hey, Doc, aren’t you supposed to say ‘Make a fist’ or something?”

“I didn’t want to waste time. Snake venom can restrict your air passages.”

“After that shot, it’s going to take me a while to breathe normal.” Cord watched her carefully in case she reloaded.

While she worked, a conversation passed through the curtain that acted as a door to the emergency area. One woman’s voice said, “Strange couple, if you ask me.”

Another said, “I’ve heard he’s violent. Almost killed a deputy about ten years back.”

The first laughed. “Well, I heard she tried to kill her last husband, so they’re probably evenly matched.”

Cord growled.

The first voice from the hallway added, “I’m surprised a rattler would even bite him. They usually don’t attack their own.”

Dr. Spencer laughed, drawing Cord’s attention. “You that mean, cowboy?”

“Probably,” he answered, realizing she was far too bright to buy into gossip. “I’m working on it.”

“My fiancé, Tinch Turner, was over at the vet’s this morning working with your horse. He said the vet told a different story. Said he heard you and your wife slept with the horses to make sure they were all right.”

Cord frowned. “Don’t tell those ladies, you’ll ruin my rep.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, cowboy.” Without another word, she began cleaning the wound.

Cord decided he liked this no-nonsense doctor.

When Nevada found him fifteen minutes later, he’d already had two shots and the wound had been cleaned and bandaged. He’d been ordered to wait on the examining table, and the nurse would be back to check his heart rate.

He felt like a fool with his feet swinging off the table and his shirt open. They’d offered him a hospital gown, but he told them he’d as likely wear pink PJs as a gown. In truth, he felt fine. He hadn’t even wanted to lie down. Once the fear wore off, Cord felt like everyone was making a big deal over nothing. His arm ached, but it was no longer swelling and he had most of the feeling back in his hand.

For the first time he realized how frightened Nevada looked. “I’m all right, but they cut up the sleeve of the shirt you bought me. I really liked the way you put my initials on the cuff. I’m sorry about messing it up.”

Nevada pressed as close as she could get to him. “I don’t care about the shirt, Cord. I care about you, you idiot.”

He looked up into her beautiful blue eyes and smiled. “You do?”

The meaning behind her words seemed to hit them both at the same time. Somehow during the past month they’d changed from two almost-strangers who’d made a bargain to something different, and neither really knew what it was.

She leaned down and kissed his lips softly. “Don’t you dare die on me. I didn’t really think I would, but I like having you around, Cord McDowell.”

It wasn’t exactly a declaration of love, but he’d take it. He slid his unbandaged hand into the hair at the back of her neck, pulled her close, and kissed her soundly, then whispered, “I thought about it, but I figured you’d really storm if I cut out on the bargain.”

Her hand moved through the hair on his chest as her cheek rubbed against his. They didn’t know how to say the right words about how much the other meant to them. He’d never used a word like
love
much, and she’d used it so often it no longer held any meaning.

She moved between his legs and wrapped her arms around his neck. He circled her waist with his bandaged wrist and pulled her close enough to feel her heart beat against his. When he caressed her soft breasts beneath the silk of her blouse, he decided if the poison wasn’t out of his system it was probably running double time through his veins about now.