Wyoming Tough (12 page)

“Gelly couldn't have taken the egg,” Mallory said doggedly, answering a charge they hadn't made verbally. “She hasn't ever been alone in here!”

“We had a conference call from the state cattlemen's association committee on grazing,” Cane reminded him. “All three of us went into the office to take it. Mavie was in the kitchen cooking dinner and Gelly was in here alone. As soon as we came back, she said she had an urgent matter to attend to in town.”

Mallory felt sick. “It couldn't be her,” he protested, but it was a weak protest.

“If you believe her innocent, let's prove it,” Cane said. “I know the best private detective in the business, Dane Lassiter from Houston. Let me
have him do some investigating for us. If Gelly has nothing to hide, it will clear her.”

“And if not,” Tank put in, “it's better to know now, especially if you're bullheaded enough to try and marry her.”

“She loves me,” Mallory bit off. “She says she can't live without me.” He averted his eyes. “She thinks I'm handsome.”

“Nobody thinks you're handsome who isn't lying,” Cane told him flatly. “Look in a mirror! But looks have nothing to do with character, and you've got plenty of that. Women don't care about looks. They care about actions.”

Mallory glared at him.

“He's right.” Tank clapped him on the back. “We love you. We won't lie to you. But you might ask yourself why Gelly is. And why she keeps trying to get jobs for her friends and land for some stranger that she barely knows.”

Mallory was weakening. He'd been stubborn because he was guilt-ridden about the way he'd treated Morie. His brothers were right. Morie couldn't have taken the egg. She left the ranch just minutes after it was found in her rucksack, and Mallory was certain that he'd held the real egg in his hands in the bunkhouse. He'd put it back in the display case himself, after Morie was gone. So the real one had to have been replaced after Morie's departure…replaced with this cheap
copy that would only have fooled someone from a distance. None of them had thought to look at it closely. There had been no reason to.

“Let me call Dane,” Cane coaxed. “If you're right about Gelly, I'll apologize.”

“So will I,” Tank agreed.

Mallory drew in a long breath. “Okay,” he said after a minute. His expression was grim. “Call him.”

 

T
HE ESTATE WAS BRILLIANT
with color and decoration, especially the huge stone patio where tables were going to be set up the following week for King's gala production show. Ranchers were coming from all over the world to look at his prize cattle, which would be offered for sale at auction.

“Dad really does things on a big scale,” Morie mused as she and her mother went over the final plans with a staff of professionals who would complete the finishing touches and employ caterers for the occasion. It was much too large an endeavor for any one person, although Shelby kept a tight rein on the operation and dictated what she wanted done.

“Yes, he does,” Shelby said with a smile. “He's very proud of his purebred herd.”

“So am I,” Morie replied. “Now that I know how a ranch operates from the ground up, I have
even more admiration for the care Dad takes of his cattle and his men.”

“My daughter, the cowgirl,” Shelly chuckled.

“I enjoyed it. Most of it,” she replied and lowered her eyes.

Shelby turned back to the woman who was carrying out the party plans. “You were able to get Desperado to play for us, weren't you?”

Tenny Welsh laughed. “Yes, I was,” she said, “although the group is semiretired now. They all have kids and touring isn't conducive to raising a family, they say. But they'll do it for you,” she told Shelby. “Heather Everett is best friends with the lead singer. She convinced them.”

“God bless her,” Shelby said fervently. “She's such a sweetie.”

“So is her daughter, Odalie,” Tenny replied with a sigh. “Have you ever heard her sing? She has the voice of an angel!”

“Where did you hear her?” Morie asked, curious.

“She goes to our church and is a soloist in the choir,” the other woman replied with a smile. “It's such a joy to hear her.”

“She's had an offer from the Met, by the way,” Shelby told Morie. “She's deliberating whether or not to go.”

“It would be a shame to waste a talent like that,”
the caterer replied dreamily. “Oh, I'd love to have such a voice!”

Morie didn't reply. She was thinking of her brother, Cort, who had such a hopeless passion for the shy blonde, who apparently hated him. Nobody knew why. Well, perhaps Cort did, but he was very tight-lipped about his private life.

“So here's the final menu.” Shelby interrupted her thoughts as she handed the printed list to the caterer. “And please make certain that we have a variety of canapés to suit every taste, and plenty of fruit.”

“I always do,” Tenny reminded her with a smile. This wasn't the first time she'd catered big social parties for the Brannts. “I know your tastes very well, Shelby.”

Shelby laughed. “It will be a gala occasion. We have a famous soccer star, four A-list actors and actresses, the CEO of a giant computer/software corporation, two government agents, a few assorted mercenaries and the former vice president.”

“Vice president?” Morie asked, surprised.

“He's a friend of your father's,” she replied. “Of course, so are the mercenaries,” she added amusedly. “He likes black sheep.”

“Well, they are interesting people,” Tenny added. Her face changed. “Especially that man,
Grange, who works for the Pendletons. The stories I've heard about him!”

“Yes, he was a former major in the Green Berets,” Shelby confided. “And there was a rumor that he actually led a group of mercs down into Mexico to rescue Gracie Pendleton when she was kidnapped by that deposed South American dictator, Emilio Machado.”

“I've heard about him,” Morie said. She frowned. “Wasn't something said about a connection between Machado and our Rick Marquez, who works as a homicide detective with San Antonio P.D.?” she added.

“Yes,” Tenny replied in a soft tone. “Some document has surfaced that connects him with Marquez's mother.”

“Barbara, who owns the café in Jacobsville,” Morie commented. “She has wonderful food. I've eaten there when I visited a girlfriend….”

“No,” Tenny interrupted gently. “Not his foster mother. His real mother.”

Both women looked at her without speaking.

“Now isn't that interesting,” Shelby said.

“And don't you dare repeat it,” Tenny replied. “I heard it from someone I know and trust and I'm not supposed to tell. But you can keep a secret.” She smiled as she met Shelby's eyes. “As I well know.”

“Yes.” Shelby didn't comment further, leaving her daughter to wonder about the strange remark.

 

D
ARYL CAME OVER TO TALK
to King about a new seed bull that his father wanted to add to the breeding program, but he stopped by long enough to speak with Morie privately.

“You said you wanted rubies,” he reminded her.

She flushed, because she hadn't really taken the engagement thing seriously. He had, apparently. “Daryl…”

“If you don't like the design, we can change it,” he assured her. He opened the jeweler's box. “I had it made up like this, because I know how much you love roses.”

She caught her breath when she saw the rings. They were the most unique and beautiful settings she'd ever seen in her life. They looked like living blood in their exquisite eighteen-karat-gold settings. The engagement ring was a rose, its petals outlined in gold and set in glittering pigeon's blood rubies, the largest of which made the center. The engagement ring was studded with rubies and made to interlock with the wedding band.

“Here.” Daryl pulled them out of the box and took her hand. He hesitated with a grin. “Want to try them on? No sales pressure. They come with a demented fiancé, but you can dump him anytime you like if you find someone more deserving.”

She looked into his black eyes with real pleasure. He'd taken her to movies and taught her to tango, he'd ridden with her over the acres and acres of her father's huge ranch. He'd been a friend and even a confidant. She'd told him, although not her parents, the whole truth of her sojourn on the Rancho Real and found him a sympathetic and caring listener. He was also as quiet as a clam. He'd never divulged her secrets to her parents.

She could do worse.

He laughed, because she'd said it out loud. “Yes, you could,” he assured her. “I even still have most of my own teeth!”

“Most of them?” she asked with a curious frown.

His black eyes twinkled. “Your brother knocked one of them out when we were in college together. I can't even remember what we fought over. But he said that since he couldn't beat me in a fair fight, we'd be better off as friends, and we have been, all these years.”

“Yes, well, my brother has an attitude problem from time to time,” she conceded. He was hot-tempered, the way Shelby had said their father once was, and he tended to be impulsive to a fault. But he was a good person. Like Daryl.

She shrugged. “Might as well try them on, since you went to so much trouble having them designed for me,” she teased and held out her hand.

They were a perfect fit. They complemented her beautiful hands with their faint olive tan, and the settings glittered in the light with a thousand reflections. The cut was exquisite.

“I love them,” she confessed.

He smiled. “Good! So. When are we getting married?”

She stared at him in panic. Mallory was still out there somewhere, even if he hated her and considered her a thief. She should hate him, but she couldn't. She loved him. The thing was, if he'd had second thoughts about her, he'd have been in touch by now. He'd have phoned, written, something, anything. But there had been only silence from him. He still thought she was a thief. It tormented her.

“He won't change his mind, Morena,” he said gently, using her real name. “Men like that are never wrong, in their own opinion. You're clinging to dreams. It's better, always better, to deal in reality.”

“You're right, of course,” she said in a subdued tone. “It's just…”

He bent and kissed her forehead. “An engagement isn't a marriage. Just say yes. We'll announce it at the production sale and make your father and my father very happy so they'll shut up trying to pressure us into getting married.” He lifted his
head. “And if things do somehow work out for you and your suspicious rancher, I'll take back the rings and go shopping elsewhere,” he offered firmly. “You have nothing to lose, really.”

She drew in a soft breath. He made sense. She didn't really agree, but she was certain that the future would be dark enough if she went through it alone. In some ways Daryl was perfect for her, and her father would be ecstatic. It might be enough to stop him from digging into her recent past and steamrolling over the Kirks in revenge if he found out why Mallory had fired her. That alone was reason enough to say yes. Daryl was right about one other thing—an engagement wasn't a marriage. She could break it anytime she liked, with no hard feelings.

She touched the rings. “Pity to waste them.”

“Just what I was thinking,” he agreed.

Her dark eyes twinkled. “Okay. We can be engaged. But it's like a trial engagement,” she added firmly. “Just that.”

He touched her nose with the tip of his forefinger. “Just that. I promise.”

Her father was over the moon when they gave him the news. “Thank God you finally saw sense,” he told her. He shook Daryl's hand. “Welcome to the family. You can be married very soon.”

“We're not rushing it,” Daryl said, when he
noted her discomfort. “We're going to take our time and get to know each other.”

King's dark eyes narrowed. “Is that necessary? Why?”

“Now, Dad,” Morie said gently. “Don't push.”

“It's because of that damned Wyoming rancher who fired you, isn't it?” her father demanded suddenly. “The lowlife son of Satan is going to find himself on the wrong side of a defamation-of-character lawsuit just as soon as I find out who framed you! And his isn't the only head that's going to roll when I do!”

M
ORIE FELT HER HEART
turn over at the anger and threat in her father's deep voice. “How did you…?” she exclaimed, horrified that he was going to try to ruin the Kirks. They were in a precarious financial situation. He could do it.

“I didn't buy that story that you came home voluntarily. I know you,” he returned curtly. “You were devastated by whatever happened. I had a friend in Houston do some digging. My, my, what I found out,” he added softly, although his eyes were glittering.

She went closer to him. “Words,” she said quietly. “It was all just words. I was set up…you know that. Mallory Kirk has a jealous girlfriend. She thought I was getting too close to him so she found a way to get me fired.”

“You should have made him prosecute you,” King returned hotly. “I'd have had that blonde wannabe tied up in knots on the witness stand.”

Witness stand. Jury. Her eyes narrowed. “You talked to Uncle Danny. He sold me out!”

He looked uncomfortable. “Danny didn't say anything. He just made some odd comments and I got suspicious about why you suddenly left a job you told him you loved.”

“So you hired a private detective,” she said with resignation. “Listen, Dad, it doesn't matter. I'm going to marry Daryl. Nobody knows me in Wyoming. Who cares what gossip goes around about why I left the ranch up there?”

“I care,” he said flatly. “You're my child. You were accused of a crime. And now there's another crime that they may try to blame you for.”

“Excuse me?” she asked, and her stomach flipped.

“A priceless jeweled egg was stolen from the house, and replaced with a cheap copy that went unnoticed until a few days ago,” King said icily. “If they thought you stole it in the first place, they may come after you and have you prosecuted now that it's gone missing for real.”

She felt sick. “I saw Mallory Kirk going back toward the house with it, just after he told me to leave.”

“Yes, well, somebody took it soon afterward.”

“I'd already left Wyoming,” she protested.

“They could say you took it with you,” he returned. “They could say you let Kirk find it in your rucksack because you had the real one hidden. It was an unsettling confrontation. He
could say that he didn't notice it was a copy because of the emotional upset.”

She sat down on the arm of the sofa, her expression tense and worried.

“I'm not about to let my daughter be labeled a thief,” he said icily. “Your name is going to be cleared, and I don't care who else gets hurt. People who steal should be caught, Morena. You should have made them call the law and prosecute you.”

“That's what Joe Bascomb did,” she said bitterly. “And he was convicted of a murder, when he was innocent.”

“Was he?” King asked, with narrowed yes. “Danny thinks there may be more to that story than you're aware of. He's the one who called in private detectives in the first place, to check out your friend Bascomb because you asked him for help, to get the man an attorney. In the process, they learned about the theft of the jeweled egg.”

She felt even more terrible. Surely it couldn't get any worse. Could it?

She took a long breath. “Okay, you're right. But can it wait until after the production sale?” she asked gently. “Let's not spoil it with a lot of legal challenges. Mom's worked so hard.”

King grimaced. He knew how hard Shelby had worked. She was the heart of the outfit, in many ways. “All right,” he agreed after a minute. “That's
only a few days away. But afterward,” he added with ice in his tones, “we're going to set things straight in Wyoming.”

She nodded. She wasn't looking forward to it. Mallory Kirk was in for a huge surprise, and not one he was going to enjoy. Her father would have him for breakfast. She studied her parent while he talked to Daryl. Under other circumstances, he might have liked Mallory. They were very similar in many ways. And hadn't her father been suspicious of Shelby and thought her an opportunist during their stormy relationship? He really didn't have much room to talk. Not that she was going to say that out loud.

 

U
NCLE
D
ANNY AND HIS VIVACIOUS
wife, Edie, came with their sons, and their housekeeper/cook, Safie, to stay during the production sale. Morie and Daryl took the kids riding and to movies to keep them occupied while the adults got everything organized for the sale.

The house was huge, and additions had been constructed while the kids were in school so that they had entertainment areas for their friends. There was an immense ballroom, an indoor swimming pool, a tennis court out back, the stables and a barn for King's prize bulls. It was a lavish estate. Six Jaguars, two sedans, two convertibles and two antique sports cars graced the garage.
Cort and Morie owned the convertibles, although it had taken a long time to convince King that they were as safe as most other cars.

 

T
HE
S
ATURDAY MORNING
that kicked off the production sale came with a suddenness that Morie hadn't anticipated. The small airport just south of the ranch was kept busy as corporate jets landed, refueled and took off again after depositing their passengers.

Morie was fascinated by the guest list. She watched famous people stroll around the premises with starstruck awe.

“Stop that,” Daryl teased, holding her hand. “You've seen them before.”

“Yes, on television,” she assured him. “Dad's never gone whole hog like this for a production sale!”

“He's making a statement,” Daryl said in an odd tone.

She frowned. “Excuse me?”

He sighed. “Never mind.” He grinned. “Race you to the sale barn!”

“I can't,” she objected. “I have to help in the kitchen, making canapés. Even with all of us helping, including Aunt Edie and Safie and the caterers, it's a pinch getting it done in time for the party tonight. While all the visiting cattlemen are drooling over Dad's seed bulls, the women are grinding
their teeth trying to provide enough food. And that doesn't include the barbecue that's going on in the tents for lunch,” she added, indicating the row of tents and the smokers that were going full tilt to provide barbecue. “At least the cowboys are handling that for us! Thank goodness we got old Rafe to come out of retirement long enough to make those famous Dutch-oven biscuits he's famous for. Not to mention his beef barbecue.”

“It will be worth it if your dad sells enough bulls,” Daryl observed.

She thought of something. “Daryl, you have oil holdings. Do you do fracking?”

He glared at her. “No. We do offshore drilling, and we have a few rigs set up in Oklahoma, but we're very careful where we drill and we have safeguards in place. We have a wonderful record for safety.”

“I didn't mean to offend,” she said quickly. “But I wondered if you knew any companies that do fracking up in Wyoming.”

“I know one that's trying to,” he said. “A man named Cardman owns it. He's been sued in two states for lax safety procedures—if it isn't done properly, it contaminates the local water table. See, you inject water, and chemicals, at high pressure into the ground to fracture the shale rock and release oil and gas. It's not popular at the moment.
There was even a documentary made about the dangers. That's one reason we don't invest in it.”

“Cardman,” she mused.

“He's a shady character,” he affirmed. “He's known for buying up scrubland from unsuspecting landowners and then putting up operations on it. Several people have sued him. He just moves to another state and keeps going.”

“Shame.”

“Really.”

 

S
HE MENTIONED IT
to her mother when they were loading the last silver tray with hors d'oeuvres that evening, just before the guests congregated in the ballroom.

“Fracking,” her mother mused. “What a nasty sort of operation it sounds.”

“I know we need oil. Nobody wants to live in grass huts and walk fifty miles to a city,” Morie stated. “But there are safe ways to extract oil, and then there's this high-speed injection fracturing. That woman I told you about kept trying to get Mallory to sell her friend some scrubland on his property. She didn't say why, but now I'm curious.”

“You should mention it to your uncle Danny. He knows the Kirks.”

“I might do that.”

Shelby touched her daughter's cheek. The
scratch had healed, and the skin was soft and velvety and blemishless, just like her own. “Sweetheart, are you really going to marry Daryl?”

“Dad wants me to.”

“What do you want to do, Morena?”

Her dark eyes were sad. “I want to marry for love,” she replied. “But when it isn't returned, maybe it's best to settle for someone honest and kind that you really like. Daryl is a wonderful person.”

“He truly is. But if you don't love him, and he doesn't love you, the two of you are cheating each other.” Her face was solemn. “I married for love. I've never regretted it. Not once.”

“You were lucky,” Morie said with a smile.

“Eventually.” Shelby chuckled. “Oh, if you'd known your father as he used to be!” She rolled her eyes. “It was like domesticating a wolf!”

“It was?” Morie laughed.

“Worse! A grizzly bear.” She pursed her perfect lips. “Your Mallory Kirk sounds just like your father. They'd butt heads at first, but then they'd be friends.”

“Chance would be a fine thing.” Morie sighed.

“I don't know. Life is funny,” Shelby replied. “You never know what surprises are in store for you.”

 

F
IFTEEN MINUTES LATER
, Morie had reason to remember that odd statement. Mallory Kirk walked in the door with Gelly Bruner.

Morie, standing beside Daryl, watched them come in with cold eyes. Her heart was cutting circles in her chest, but she was trying to act normally. In her exquisite white couture gown, with its thin strip of gold trim, and her long hair in an elegant upswept hairdo, dripping diamonds, she was the epitome of the wealthy debutante. Gelly was dressed in last year's fashion, again, a black dress that was passable but nothing to stir comment. Mallory, in evening dress, was impressive even if he didn't have movie-star looks. His tall, fit body was made for evening clothes. He looked elegant, if somber.

Morie saw her father moving toward Mallory with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

“You must be Kingston Brannt,” Mallory said, extending a hand. “I'm Mallory Kirk. My brothers and I have a ranch in Wyoming. I came to get one of those seed bulls I've read so much about in cattle journals.”

King didn't extend his own hand. He looked at the other man with black eyes that could have cut diamond. “I know who you are.”

Mallory seemed puzzled. “This is my friend, Gelly Bruner.”

“Mr. Brannt, I've heard so much about you,” she purred.

King didn't even look at her.

“I've never seen so many famous people,” Gelly was gushing. “You must know all the rich people on earth!”

“They're friends, Miss Bruner,” King said curtly. “I don't choose them for their bank balances.”

“Of course not,” she said quickly.

“Hello, there,” Danny Brant said to Mallory, and he did shake hands. “How are your brothers?”

“Working, as usual. Good to see you again.”

“Same here.” He glanced at his brother, who was still seething. “We're always happy to have fellow cattlemen visit.”

“I can't get over the decorations,” Gelly enthused. “I'd love to know where you found so many antique roses!”

“Oh, that would be my niece. She's crazy about them,” Danny said easily. “Her fiancé had a set of rings made for her with the design. There she is! Come over here, honey.”

He was setting the cat among the pigeons and grinning. King was irritated that his brother had stolen his thunder, because he'd had something else in mind for the introduction.

Morie clung to Daryl's big hand as she joined them.

“This is my niece, Morena,” Danny introduced. “And her fiancé, Daryl Coleman. He's CEO of an oil corporation.”

Morena lifted her head proudly. She was aware of Gelly's suddenly white face, and Mallory's utter stillness as he registered who she was.

“Yes, my daughter worked for you for several weeks, I believe,” King said in a voice that promised retribution. “And was allowed to quit rather than be prosecuted for theft. It might interest you to know that I've retained a private detective to investigate those charges. And I assure you,” he growled, “countercharges will be forthcoming. Nobody accuses my daughter of being a damned thief!”

Mallory gaped at her. This elegant young woman, dressed in couture, living in luxury, engaged to be married, was the same ragged little cowgirl who'd turned his life upside down and left under a cloud of suspicion.

“Well…well, what a surprise,” Gelly managed with a nervous laugh.

“Isn't it?” Morie asked. “By the way, Ms. Bruner, that friend of yours who wanted to buy the scrubland on the ranch, his name wouldn't be Cardman, by any chance, would it? Because Daryl has had some very interesting things to say about his past, and the lawsuits he's facing in several states for unsafe drilling practices.”

“It was Cardman,” Mallory replied, and stared at Gelly blankly. He'd had one too many surprises for one night.

“You should sell him the land,” Morie advised with a pleasant smile. “Then when you want to see fireworks, all you'll have to do is set a match to your water.”

He glared at her. “You lied,” he said in a rasping tone.

“Well, thieves do lie, don't they?” she shot back.

He looked uncomfortable.

“My daughter is no thief,” King told Mallory with glittering eyes. “She has no need to steal. I understand a priceless jeweled egg is missing from your ranch. Since my daughter seems to be involved in the case, I've hired Dane Lassiter out of Houston to investigate the theft for me.”