Promise Broken (The Callahan Series) (7 page)

Donovan was conflicted. He wanted with everything in him to be who he thought he was all his life—a Callahan.

It was too much to ask. He couldn’t change his paternity any more than he could change his height or the color of his eyes.

Dugan waved at a half-dozen ranchers and townspeople as they made their way to his office. For the first time in his life, Donovan couldn’t look them in the eye.

He wasn’t the man they thought he was.

****

He saw the bitch cross the street, her kid in tow, and head toward the discount bookstore. How lucky was that? He had to hotfoot it to enter the store ahead of her. The bell over the door tinkled, the sound annoyingly happy. He hated it. Hated being in this hick town. Hated biding his time. For what? Backup, the boss had said. But deep down, he knew it would be a cold day in hell before he was called on to do anything of importance.

The boss thought he wasn’t good enough. That’s why he’d pulled this glory job.

The old lady who ran the store spoke up. “Hi there. Good to see you again. What can I help you with today?”

He clamped his jaw and wished he could shoot her right then and there. “Looking around. That okay with you?”

Take your time.” She chuckled. “It’s not as if we’re overrun with customers.”

He heard them come in. Heard that damn bell tinkle again. Stupid town. Stupid store. But she’d brought her kid with her. Maybe he could use that.

Taking a deep breath, he grabbed a couple of books and walked in their direction.

He’d show the boss. He’d show them all. He wasn’t the flunkie they thought. Not by a long shot.

****

Phyl didn’t want to be here. Too many people. All strangers. Any one of them could be someone sent to harm them. Then the uncle showed up with questions she didn’t want to answer. Against her better judgment though, she’d agreed to come to town today. Now she was such a bundle of nerves she couldn’t stand herself.

The bookstore looked deserted. It was a good place to hide. Letting her gaze sweep over the shelves, she tamped down her anxiety, and tried to relax.

“We haven’t read this one,” Phyl said, pulling down a brightly illustrated book.

That guilty feeling stole over her. She couldn’t let Mark have a fun day in town for her own fear. It wasn’t fair to Mark.

“That’s good. Can we go now?”

“What’s your hurry? Nellie will meet us here when she’s finished. Let’s enjoy ourselves.”

Mark’s face set in a frown.

“What’s wrong, honey?” she asked, squatting down to eye level.

“Nothing.”

“Something’s bothering you.”

A man came around the corner, a couple of books in his hands. He stopped when he saw them. “Hi!”

Phyl’s heart kicked up several notches. Another stranger. “Hello,” Phyl responded, looking up at him.

I don’t like him
.

The man stared at her with dark, cold eyes. Though he smiled, she sensed he was faking it. A chill ran up her back.

Instead of running, she stood to face him. “We found what we came for. We were just leaving.”

“Don’t let me drive you away.” He thrust out a hand holding several books. “Gonna get these for Buddy, my favorite nephew.”

He showed them to Mark. “Have you read them?”

Mark shook his head.

“You can have ’em if you like. I’ll find another one or two for Buddy.”

“That’s unnecessary,” Phyl said, her anxiety accelerating. “We have what we need.”

“Not a problem.” His voice was gruff, as if he wasn’t accustomed to making conversation. But maybe that was her imagination.

Mary Connors, the bookstore owner, came around the corner. “Have you two met?”

“Not yet,” the man said, still smiling that fake smile.

Phyl edged her way to the checkout counter. She had to stop this. Every stranger wasn’t a killer.

Mary turned to Phyl. “You’re new in town. So is this nice gentleman.”

New in town? Why? Oaktree wasn’t the kind of town that drew people. “Could we check out? We’re in a hurry to meet a friend for lunch.”

“Sorry,” Mary said, and hurried her short squat body to stand behind the register. “I just love to talk.”

Mary didn’t mention the man’s name.

As he tried to draw Phyl into a conversation, it made her more and more uneasy. It was an effort to keep from pulling her cap down further. Keeping a low profile was imperative. Yet, here she was in the middle of town talking to a stranger who made her skin crawl. She couldn’t let her fear for their safety make her careless. Coming to town any day was careless, on auction day, worse.

“I didn’t run you off, did I?” he asked as Mary put the books in a bag.

“Not at all,” Phyl lied.

“Don’t you work for the Callahans?”

The chill turned to ice.

Seeing the look on her face, he added, “Gossip,” he explained. “Part of living in a small town, I guess. Even a—what do you call it?—greenhorn like me hears it all.”

Her nerves tightened. How could she stay hidden when everyone in town knew the Callahans had a woman working on the ranch?

They don’t know you’re here
. How could they?

She put the change in the pocket of her jeans. “Thanks,” she said and nodded to Mary.

Thankfully, Nellie was crossing the street toward them. Phyl wanted to get back to the ranch as fast as possible. It wasn’t safe here. Despite the hot weather, she shivered.

She couldn’t be careful enough, not with a killer’s threat still ringing in her head.

Maybe it was time to run again. Now that Donovan was back, there was no reason to wait.

“Where’s Donovan?” Mark asked Nellie when she joined them.

Phyl looked at her son with trepidation, turned toward the bookstore. The man stood at the window staring after them.

When they eventually found Donovan, she was still nervous and her thoughts were scattered. It wouldn’t pay for the wrong person to connect her to a murder in California.

Chapter Six

“Why can’t I ride Lily?” Mark whined a couple of hours later. He and Phyl were in their room at the ranch. Donovan had suggested they take the day off so he could catch up on the paperwork.

“Because you’re too young to go by yourself,” Phyl reminded him.

“Donovan can come with me,” he sniffed.

“Donovan has other things to do.”

“I’ll ask him.” He whirled around to run out of the bedroom. She lunged for him, barely grabbing him before he made it to the door.

“Mark, how many times do I have to tell you to stop bothering Donovan? He’s much too busy to entertain you.”

“But he said…”

She looked at her son’s face, at the disappointment, at the hurt. Why couldn’t he have this time to enjoy himself? Who knew where they would go next? Or when? “Why don’t I go with you? We’ll ride to the pond in the west pasture and back.”

Smiling now, Mark raced downstairs, Phyl behind him.

She paused when she heard a loud noise. It stopped abruptly and she hurried after Mark.

She was at the back door ready to leave when she heard Donovan’s voice. When her heart kicked up a notch, she frowned. She was getting as bad as her son. Her fingers trembled as she pulled her ponytail through the hole in her baseball cap. She wasn’t attracted to him, she told herself. An attraction would be a distraction she didn’t need or want.

Mark raced for the barn, the dogs at his heels. She would have to hurry. She didn’t want him out there alone.

She almost made it through the door when Donovan stopped her. “Phyl, do you have a minute?”

Turning, she was surprised to see a tall, lanky young man walk into the kitchen behind him. She went weak with fear. Then she gave the stranger another look. He seemed innocent enough as he turned his worn Stetson around and around in his hand. But how could you really tell?

“Phyl, I want you to meet a young man I met in town, Cal Wiley.” He turned to Cal. “This is the woman I was telling you about, Phyl Leander.”

“So you’re the one who made all that racket. Do you always make such a dramatic entrance?” she asked.

His hat twisting in his hands, Cal ducked his head and smiled. “People do hear me coming.” For a minute he didn’t seem to know what to do next, then the hat twirling stopped, and he stuck out a hand in greeting.

“I’d like to hire Cal to get the next bunch of cows ready for auction.”

Maybe this was Donovan’s way of easing her out. “We can handle it.”

“We need to get them ready as soon as possible. We can use an extra hand. Cal isn’t too experienced, but he can sit a horse and isn’t afraid of hard work. What do you think?”

He was asking her opinion?

She hoped her mouth wasn’t open in astonishment. From outside, she heard Mark yelling for her to hurry up.

Once more, she gave Cal a hard look. His eyes were full of eagerness. He really wanted this job. Did he want it to get closer to her and Mark? The thought made her look closer. He was clean-cut, clothes pressed, boots new. Could he be what they called a ringer? Someone who wasn’t what he appeared to be? She just didn’t know.

She didn’t want strangers here. And being the hired help didn’t give her a real voice in hiring or firing. Donovan could do what he liked, but she still shouldn’t have gone into town. First the uncle, now this kid...plus the creepy guy in the bookstore.

She’d made a big mistake.

She forced herself to shrug. “It’s your ranch. You can do what you want.”

Donovan grinned. And despite the beard, the smile transformed his face.

“Mark’s waiting,” she said, as she backed out the door.

Phyl’s nerves didn’t settle down until they pulled their horses up at the pond.

She shook her head at her own uncertainties. One minute she thought she should leave, the next she was afraid she’d have to.

The truth was that if circumstances permitted, she’d stay here forever. Looking around, she took in the vast open space, the deep blue sky, the sparkling water a few feet away. The old homestead sat close by, and with its gingerbread trim looked as if it came straight out of a fairy tale. She wondered what had taken Donovan away from this paradise.

Mark moved Lily closer to the pond.

“Careful. You’re getting too close to the water.”

He sent her a frown, but pulled Lily away a few inches. Was Mark just being a kid? Or was he becoming more like his dad? Not now. Not this young. She had a lot of years yet to shape him into the man she hoped he’d be. When she’d met Victor in college, she’d been taken in, not by his looks, though he was quite handsome, but by what she took as an intense drive to better himself. After they were married she discovered how wrong she’d been. Victor was full of words, full of ideas, full of everything except the ability to follow through.

Though he’d promised she could finish school she’d had to quit and go to work. If she hadn’t, they would have starved. Victor was too busy trying out one get-rich-quick scheme after another to keep a job. It had been a bitter lesson.

What made it worse was his appetite for the good life. He wanted the best money could buy as long as she paid for it.

She watched Mark as he once more led Lily close to the water’s edge.

“That’s it, Mark. If you can’t obey, we’ll go back to the house.” She refused to let Mark turn into another Victor.

“Mo…om,” he wailed.

“No. You were told.”

“I promise to be good,” he begged.

“Let’s go.” She started back the way they’d come only to see Donovan and the new kid, Cal, heading toward them.

Mark gave Lily a bump with his foot. “Who’s that with Donovan?”

Phyl didn’t bother to answer as Mark had already pulled Lily up next to Stormy. She watched them. Cal seemed as happy as Mark. Was he for real or a good actor? Donovan was sober-faced until Mark pulled up next to him, then his face broke into a smile.

With his Stetson low on his forehead, that dark beard and his devilish smile, no wonder her heart did the tango. This had to stop. Now.

Donovan touched his Stetson with one finger; Cal took his off.

“Hi again,” Cal said.

“Who are you?” Mark asked.

Cal laughed. “I’m the new hired help. Call me Cal.”

“I’m Mark. Are you going to work here?”

“I am.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Donovan said I could stay in the homestead or the room in the barn. I decided to take the barn.”

“Whatcha’ going to do?”

Donovan chuckled. Phyl liked the rumble of it. Darn. What didn’t she like about the man? Okay. He could do without the beard.

“He’s going to help with the cattle,” Donovan explained.

“Does that mean you’ll have more time to go riding?” Mark asked Donovan.

Donovan shot a glance toward her. Phyl shrugged.

“Maybe,” he said. “Right now, I’m showing Cal the ranch.”

“Can I come?”

“Mark. We’re going to the house. You know why. Turn Lily around and move.”

Mark’s shoulders drooped, his head hung low. Donovan gave her a questioning look. She shook her head. Not today. He wasn’t going to make her change her mind. Mark had to learn. Self-discipline was a difficult concept, but it started with obeying rules.

Mark pouted in silence as they rode back to the house.

He went straight to their room. Phyl followed. They needed to talk. Now was a good time.

“You won’t let me do anything,” Mark accused. “I’m not a baby.”

She went to his cot where he sat with his arms crossed over his chest. Sitting beside him, she tried to explain. “You’re growing up, Mark. Before we know it, you’ll be a young man.”

He glared at her.

Inwardly, she had to admit she understood how he felt. “Part of growing up is learning right from wrong.”

“I know right from wrong.”

She ran a hand over his head, ruffled his hair. “That’s good. But obeying the rules is part of that.”

Tears glimmered in his eyes. Maybe she was being too hard on him. He didn’t complain when she got him up early so she could do her job. Didn’t complain when she packed his breakfast and juice to eat later when he got hungry. He didn’t complain when she kept him so close. She didn’t want to smother him. She just wanted to keep him safe.