Wyoming Tough (9 page)

“Tell you what. I know some people in the judiciary in Wyoming. I'll make a few phone calls. What's the man's name?”

“Joe Bascomb.”

“Okay. But you stay out of it. Believe me, you don't want to be charged as an accessory, in aiding an escaped convict,” he added.

“Yes, I know. I won't. Thanks.”

“Hey, how could I turn down my favorite girl?” he teased. “See you soon. Take care.”

“You, too.”

She closed up the little phone with a sigh. It wasn't any of her business. But the man had seemed so personable. He could have killed her, attacked her, if he'd wanted to. There had been nobody to help her. But he'd been polite and courteous and kind. It spoke volumes about the sort of person he was. She had to help if she could. And you never knew, she considered. There was a pattern to life. He'd become entwined in hers. There had to be a reason, somewhere. She might find it out one day.

 

T
HE NEXT MORNING
, Mallory was looking at her with more suspicion than ever. She walked over to him, trying not to notice how very attractive he was. She wished she could have met him in her real persona, as she was, so that things would have been on an equal footing from the beginning. As it was, he'd know someday that she'd lied to him about her status. Or perhaps he wouldn't. She could go home, go back to the old life, marry the nice clean-cut young millionaire her father was pressing her to marry and settle down. She could forget the rough rancher who lived in Wyoming and thought she was shady and untrustworthy. If only he could know how much those accusations hurt her.

She looked up at him with wide dark eyes. “Something wrong, boss?”

“You know that we keep a record of all outgoing phone calls here?” he asked solemnly.

Her heart jumped. She'd called Texas. In fact, she'd called her uncle's office.

“Do you?” she asked, trying to sound innocent.

“I'd like to know why you were phoning a superior court judge in Texas,” he said simply. He shoved his hands into his pockets and gave her a cold smile. “In fact, the same superior court judge who flew up here for our party. Did you discuss something more than canapés when you met him outside and Gelly caught you? Is he your lover? Or
do you have a lawsuit in mind and you're looking for advice? I do recall that you threatened to sue Gelly.”

Her heart raced while she searched for excuses that wouldn't sound any more alarm bells. She didn't want to give away Tank's friend. If Mallory knew she'd seen the man in the woods, he might call the sheriff. She didn't want to cause the poor man any more trouble than she already had.

“I forgot to add something to the recipe I gave him,” she blurted out.

He blinked and stared at her. “Excuse me?”

“The canapé recipe,” she continued. “I forgot to tell him how long his housekeeper should cook them. He said they were having some big to-do on his family's ranch next month and he wanted the recipe for that.”

“So you called him in the middle of the night to tell him?” he asked, incredulous.

She grimaced. “It was when I remembered it,” she replied, and shrugged. “I forget stuff.”

“Not his phone number, apparently,” he mused.

“It was listed on the internet,” she muttered, prevaricating because it was for a good cause. “I used a search engine. I knew his name and what he did for a living. The rest was easy.”

He let out a long breath. He always seemed to be suspicious of her, and he hated himself for it. She seemed to be an honest, hardworking, kind
young woman. But he didn't trust his instincts. He'd been taken in one time too many by a woman who wasn't what she seemed. This one knew her way around the law, despite her protests, and she could pose a real threat to the ranch if she was trying to set him up.

On the other hand, his heart started doing cartwheels every time he looked at her, and that was getting worse by the day. He wanted her. He was having a hard time hiding it, especially from his brothers, who noticed everything.

Gelly was furious that he even talked about Morie, which he did often, involuntarily. He'd mentioned her help in the kitchen, which Mavie had been overjoyed to have. Gelly wouldn't dirty her fingers in a kitchen, and she was already jealous. Too jealous. He'd let the woman get too familiar with him, just by not pushing her away when he still could. Now she was talking about marriage and interceding with him for a friend who wanted to buy some scrubland on the northernmost end of the ranch.

“It's just worthless land,” she coaxed. “You can't run cattle on it. This poor man just lost everything he had. He just wants a few acres to live on. Maybe grow a little garden.”

“If it's land you can't run cattle on, you sure as hell can't farm it, Gelly,” he'd replied. “Besides, it's a family ranch and that would be a family de
cision. You need to have the man come and talk to us.”

She didn't dare do that. The brothers would realize in a heartbeat that he was a businessman, not a down-on-his-luck rancher.

“Oh, he's out of town,” she said, thinking quickly.

“Doing what?”

She thought. “Visiting his sick brother.”

He shrugged. “No problem. Have him come see us when he gets back. Now, are you hell-bent on going to this movie?” he added, indicating it on the screen of his computer. “I don't like comedies.”

“It's funny,” she assured him. “At least, that's what I was told. You need a night out. You spend too much time working around here. You should hire a manager. You know, I just met a man who would do nicely. He's college educated and…”

“I run the ranch,” he said coldly, looking up at her.

She hesitated. “Well, I was just mentioning it. About the movie,” she added, and quickly changed the subject. He was too quick for her. She'd have to be more careful.

Mallory was remembering the conversation while he was staring pointedly at Morie. She flushed under the scrutiny. He could see her heart beating wildly against her shirt. Her breasts were
pointed suddenly, too, and he felt his own body reacting to her arousal. He wanted to back her into the wall and kiss her forever.

He pulled himself up short. He had to get her out of here before he did something stupid. “All right,” he said. “You can go back to work.”

“Thanks.” She didn't look at him again. She could barely walk for the trembly feeling that went over her. He'd looked at her with pure hunger. She knew he wanted her, but he didn't trust her. He was remembering her involuntary outburst in the woods. If only she'd kept her mouth shut! He'd never trust her again and she had only herself to blame. But she could win his trust. She knew she could. She just had to try.

 

H
E TOLD
G
ELLY, WITHOUT
meaning to, about Morie's phone call to the Texas judge.

“Well, that's not surprising,” she commented on the way to the movie.

“Why not?” he shot at her.

“They were all hugged up together when I went out to tell her to get back to work and stop disturbing your guests,” she replied, lying through her teeth. She smiled secretively when she saw his expression. “He was very rude to me. He didn't like it that I interrupted them.”

“She said she was giving him a canapé recipe,” he scoffed.

She laughed out loud. “Oh, come on!” She glanced at him with lowered eyelids. “And you actually believed her?”

He didn't like feeling foolish. “I suppose so. At first.”

“I'm sure there's something going on there,” she replied easily. “They obviously knew each other all along. And he's a judge.” She glanced at him again. “What if she's trying to set you up for a lawsuit and he's helping her? Some judges are dishonest, you know.”

That was what he'd thought himself. He didn't want to agree with her.

“She looks to me the sort who'd look for an easy way,” she added. “She's so poor, she'd probably do anything to get out of debt, to have nice clothes that were currently in fashion, to be seen at the best places, to travel first-class around the world.” She was daydreaming, not about her rival's wishes, but her own. Her face set in hard lines. “She's probably sick of having to do things she hates just to get ahead in life, to have the things she deserves and can't get any other way.”

He gave her an astonished look.

She noted it, and cleared her throat. “I mean, that sort of woman obviously is hoping to make some rich man fall for her, and she'll do whatever it takes. You're rich. Of course she wants you. It's obvious.”

“It is?”

“She stares at you all the time,” she muttered. “Like a kid looking at the counter in an ice-cream shop.”

“She does?” His heart jumped. He had to force himself not to react. “I hadn't noticed,” he added in a droll tone.

“It's disgusting the way she falls all over herself to please you. Let me tell you, she's not like that around me,” she said grimly. “She's all claws and teeth. She hates me. The way she talks to me…you should say something to her about it,” she added firmly. “It's not right, to have a hired person speak that way to someone of my class.”

Of her class. Her father was a retired textile worker, he'd found that out quite accidentally in conversation with a neighbor. Her late mother had been a bank clerk, an honorable profession but not something that gave her carte blanche to high society. Gelly had aspirations. She wanted money. He felt hunted, all of a sudden. She'd been sweet and clinging and flattering at first. Now she was becoming aggressive and demanding, pushing him toward her friends who wanted cheap land and jobs and other things. It was vaguely annoying.

“You're getting a little pushy lately yourself, Gelly,” he remarked curtly.

She caught her breath. “Am I? How so?”

“You sure do know plenty of people I can help,” he noted coolly.

She bit her lip. “Oh, that. I was asked about jobs here, that's all. I don't even know the man who wanted the managerial position—he's a friend of a friend. And the man who wants the land is a good friend of my father's. My father worked in a textile corporation, you know. He was quite well-known in certain circles.”

He was a cloth cutter, but Mallory wasn't saying it. He'd keep his own counsel. There was something about Gelly that started to ring alarm bells in his brain. He just smiled and asked her where she'd like to eat after the movie let out.

 

B
UT LATER HE SPOKE TO
T
ANK
.

“What do you really think of Gelly?” he asked when they were sipping coffee alone at the kitchen table. They rarely had it late at night, but they were helping with calving and it was a long and tedious job that never seemed to end when it was bedtime.

Tank's dark eyes narrowed. “I don't think about her, if I can help it. Why?”

“She's got a friend who wants us to sell him some scrubland we own, that tract on the northern boundary that we can't run cattle on. She says it's just worthless land. He's down on his luck and wants us to sell it to him cheap.”

Tank pursed his lips. “Wasn't that the same land
that the oil company had its eye on for fracking and we refused to lease it to them?”

Mallory raised his head. His eyes narrowed. “The very same.”

“I wonder if her friend has any ties to the oil and gas industry.”

“I wonder,” Mallory repeated, and he didn't smile.

“You were asking someone about phone records,” Tank added. “May I ask why?”

He shifted restlessly and sipped coffee. “Morie called that superior-court-judge friend of Cane's in Texas late at night.”

Tank's eyes lifted. “Danny Brannt?”

Mallory looked murderous. “Brannt?”

“Yes. His brother is Kingston Brannt. He has an empire down in Texas. Runs Santa Gertrudis cattle that make ours look like mongrels by comparison.”

“Morie's last name is Brannt,” Mallory replied thoughtfully.

“Yes, but there's no relation. I asked Danny. He said it's one of the most common names in his part of Texas.” He added with a smile, “Like Smith in other places. Coincidence. Nothing more.”

“Really?”

“Look at Morie, for God's sake,” Tank replied. “She's sweet, but she's poor as Job's turkey, can't
you see? She didn't even have a decent cell phone until we got one for her.”

Mallory felt a chill. “She's courting a judge,” he said. “I think she may be looking for a way to sue us.”

“You tar and feather her every chance you get, don't you?” Tank replied. “I wonder why.”

“Gelly thinks she's up to something.”

“Yes? Well, I think Gelly's up to something, and to your detriment.” He finished his coffee. “Better watch your step.”

“Maybe so,” he conceded after a minute. He finished his own coffee. “Guess we'd better grab a little sleep while we can,” he added.

Tank nodded his agreement. “Good advice.”

T
HE NEXT DAY
,
Morie found an excuse to talk to Tank after they moved cattle from one pasture to another.

“I need to tell you something. I don't quite know how,” she said when they were resting for a minute with thermoses full of coffee while the cattle grazed in their new fenced area.

He pushed his hat back and wiped his sweaty brow with his forearm. “Go ahead.”

She glanced around to make sure nobody was near enough to hear. “Joe Bascomb was at the line cabin,” she said.

“What? Good Lord, girl…!”

“He didn't hurt me. He didn't even really threaten me,” she said. “He was hungry, so I gave him a biscuit and some water. He's in awful shape.”

He winced. “He was my friend. I don't believe he could deliberately kill anybody.”

“Neither do I. He said that his attorney gave him up when he escaped.” She hesitated. “He said
there was a relative of the dead man on the jury that convicted him. That should be grounds for a retrial, shouldn't it?”

He glanced at her curiously. “That's why you called the judge in Texas, isn't it?”

She laughed ruefully. “Yes,” she admitted.

“What did he say?”

“That it should be grounds for a retrial. But Joe needs to turn himself in, and he needs a new attorney.”

“I'd pay for one myself if I could find anybody locally who'd agree to defend him. The dead man's family is much loved here,” he added. “Nobody thinks the victim was a valuable member of society, but his family is powerful. Not many local attorneys want the stigma of defending his killer.”

“The judge might know somebody who'd do it pro bono,” she added.

“What did you do to talk him into that?” he exclaimed.

“I appealed to his sense of justice. He's a very nice man. He came into the kitchen to compliment the cook on the food. Whoever thinks to do that at a party?” she added, having been to dozens where the food was taken for granted.

“He must be a nice man,” he agreed with a smile. “I'll see what I can do.” He sobered. “But don't you talk to Joe again, regardless of the circumstances. You get on your horse and leave. It's
dangerous, abetting an escaped criminal. I think he's innocent, but the court judged him guilty.”

“And you'd ride away and refuse help, would you?” she asked placidly.

“Well, no, I wouldn't. But I'm in a different situation than you are.” His eyes narrowed. “You work for us. So you do as we say. Got that?”

“Yes, sir,” she said with a sigh.

“I'm not trying to be mean. I just want to keep you out of trouble, if I can. You'd better stay clear of Gelly, too,” he added. “She's really got it in for you.”

“I'm not afraid of her.”

“You should be,” he replied. “Because Mallory believes the things she tells him. I don't know why. He doesn't even particularly like her. She just flatters his ego. He's never had much luck with women wanting him for himself, and he's easily swayed because of it. He thinks he's ugly.”

“Ugly? Mallory?” she exclaimed. “Good heavens, he's not ugly!”

He pursed his lips. “He's not?”

She flushed and cleared her throat. “Well, I'd better get back to work. But I wanted you to know about Joe. I hope somebody can help him.”

“Me, too.”

She got on her horse and rode off, leaving Tank more puzzled than ever about her.

 

M
ALLORY WAS PREOCCUPIED
. Gelly gave him a long, searching look while they ate salads at the local restaurant.

“You're worried about something, aren't you?” she asked, smiling.

He shrugged. “My brothers are falling over themselves to help our newest hire,” he muttered.

“That woman,” Gelly scoffed. She put down her fork. “Mal, she's a con artist if I ever saw one! Why don't you fire her?”

He finished his salad. “I'd be lynched,” he mused. “Everybody's crazy about her. Even old Mavie, who hates most people.” It made him feel an odd sense of pride that the people who worked for him valued Morie. He didn't know why.

Gelly's blue eyes glittered. “She's going to cause big trouble if you let her stay. You already told me what happened with your brothers when she started playing that piano. How did she learn, do you think? Maybe she played piano in a bar,” she suggested with just the right note of suspicion. “What do you really know about her? You should check her out. You really should. I'll bet she has a really terrible background.”

“I wonder,” he said. It was their policy to check out new hires, and he had. But the detective had run into a stone wall about her family background. She seemed to be without any family in Wyoming. But his investigation had noted that she'd worked
for two other ranches and had glowing recommendations from the owners. He couldn't have known that Morie had provided those references deliberately and made sure the people involved were coached in what information to give out. She'd hoped the detective would do only a surface scan and not use her social-security number to derive damaging information. But, then, the privacy laws would prevent most of that incursion without proof of criminal intent. And she'd never broken the law. She didn't even have a parking or speeding ticket to her name.

“I think she's trying to trick you into having a relationship with her,” Gelly suggested. “I've seen the way she looks at you. She wants you.” She leaned forward earnestly. “She would love to be pregnant. You'd have to support her and the child or she'd go to the authorities. Maybe even the television stations! What a pathetic picture she could paint, about being victimized by her boss!”

He took that with a grain of salt. But what Gelly said made sense, especially in light of his last, urgent moment with her, the hired help. He felt shamed by his lack of control, and he was still suspicious about Morie's whispered desire for a child.

Gelly saw his indecision. She would have to act. The woman was getting to Mal, and she was going to lose him if she didn't get her off the place. She had plans, big plans, for Mal and this ranch.
All she needed was a little more time. She had a friend who wanted to make a huge development on land Mal owned. She was being cut in for a small fortune. All she had to do was ease Mal into a nice relationship and then convince him to give up those few worthless acres to her for a pittance. After all, it was scrubland; he didn't even run cattle on it. Her friend had connections to the gas industry and he wanted the land for fracking, to drill through shale deposits to force oil to the surface. He'd checked out geological surveys, and that land was rich in oil and gas deposits, worth a fortune, in fact!

It was a controversial technique that had, on occasion, polluted local water tables to the extent that water could be set on fire with a match, because of the gas that infiltrated the water. But that wasn't Gelly's concern; she only wanted the kick-back she was promised. It would be formidable. Then she could buy anything she wanted, instead of wearing things from a consignment shop. Fortunately for her, the brothers knew nothing about fashion and didn't realize that she was only pretending the sophistication they saw. She had other plans, even bigger ones, once she cajoled Mal into marrying her. That would take more time. But Morie was a threat and she had to be removed.

It would be easy enough. Mal already distrusted the new hire, and Morie was as dim as a low-
battery flashlight. All Gelly had to do was play up to one of the young cowboys who liked her and watched her whenever she was around. A few sweet words, a few kisses, and he'd do whatever she asked. She'd already gained his confidence, pretended affection and concern for him, brought him presents. Little presents, cheap ones, like a ring with his initials on it. But they did the trick. She could use him to help her.

Mal hated a thief more than anything. She smiled. It would be easy.

 

M
ORIE WAS HELPING
D
ARBY
doctor a sick bull. The bull didn't want help and made his resistance obvious by trying to kick both of them.

“Come on, now, old fellow,” Darby said gently as he turned the bull around. “That sore place is infected, and it's not going to get better without help. The vet said to put this on twice a day and we're doing it, whether you like it or not!”

“He really doesn't like that salve.” Morie chuckled. “Oof!” she exclaimed when he shifted and knocked her down into the hay.

“You okay?” Darby asked, worried.

“Sure, just winded.”

“Hey, Bates, come over here and help us!” he called to a young cowboy who'd just entered the barn.

“Sure thing,” he called. “Just let me put away
this horse. Ms. Bruner went riding and I showed her some of the good paths.” He flushed, remembering how sweet that ride had been. “She's a real nice lady.”

Darby and Morie gaped at him. He didn't notice. He was still floating. Gelly had kissed him and whispered that she would do anything he liked if he would just do one little thing for her. All he had to do was place a priceless jeweled egg she'd taken from the Kirks' living room in Morie's rucksack. Such a small favor. She wasn't going to get the girl in trouble; it had been Cane's idea. It was a practical joke, nothing more…would he help? Of course he would!

He chatted to Morie as he helped them with the reluctant bull. Boy, was Miss Morie in for a surprise, he thought merrily. She was a good sport. He didn't know why Cane wanted to play a trick on her, but then, he didn't understand rich people and their senses of humor in the first place.

“Thanks, Bates,” Darby told him when they were finished. “You're a good man.”

“No problem,” he replied. “I love ranch work, even the dirty bits.”

“Me, too,” Morie agreed, laughing. “It's nice to be out in the open and not to work a nine-to-five job shut up in an office somewhere.”

“That's why I like it here so much.” Bates nodded. “Good land, fine cattle, nice people.”

“Lots of nice people,” Morie agreed, and smiled at Darby.

He returned her smile. “Okay, back to work. We'd better leave before Old Stomper here finds a way to corner us and kick us. Had that happen before. He sure hates being touched.”

“Old Stomper?” Morie questioned when Bates had gone back to the horses.

“He likes to step on cowboys,” he explained. “Broke a man's foot during roundup.” He shook his head. “He's one bad customer. But he's the best breeding bull we've got, so he gets pampered.”

“That's Kirk's Ransom 428, isn't he?” she wondered aloud.

His eyes almost popped. “Yes, how did you know?”

“I, uh, look at sales papers.” She faltered. “I recognized him from his conformation.”

Darby was speechless.

“I've been around cattlemen all my life,” she said after a minute. “Certainly long enough to know a prize bull when I see one. I just didn't recognize him while I was trying to keep from being shoved to death,” she added ruefully.

He gave a short laugh and gave up his suspicions. “Sure. I can understand that.”

“I guess I'd better get back out to the line cabin…”

“Miss Brannt!”

She and Darby turned at the cold and belligerent address.

“Yes, sir, boss?” she asked.

His eyes were as cold as his face was hard. “Come to the bunkhouse, please.” He turned and walked out.

“The bunkhouse?” she wondered aloud. She went out with Darby and noticed that Bates was smothering a grin.

Darby went with her. He knew the boss's moods. That look was dangerous. He'd seen it be fore, when the cook, Vanessa, had been fired. He had a bad feeling and he looked at Morie with concern.

They walked into the bunkhouse. Mallory was there, with Ms. Bruner and Cane and Tank. None of them were smiling.

“Open your rucksack, please,” Mallory asked curtly.

She lifted both eyebrows. “Sure. But why?” she asked as she retrieved it from her room and handed it to the boss.

“Open it, please,” he repeated.

She shrugged, put it down on the table near the door and opened it. She pulled out clothing, books and…

Her expression was genuinely shocked. That was a replica of one of the famous Romanov Easter eggs that had originally been made for the
czar of Russia and his wife. It was made of pure gold, which was going for over a thousand dollars a gram at current market prices, and studded with diamonds and sapphires, rubies and emeralds. It was worth a king's ransom. She held it in her hand and gaped at it. She'd last seen it in the Kirks' living room in a locked case. How…?

She turned and looked at them. Ms. Bruner wasn't smiling, but there was a look on her face that made Morie want to put her out a window.

“This egg was left to us by our grandmother, who was given it as a Christmas gift from her husband decades ago,” Mallory said with ice dripping from every syllable. “It's utterly priceless.”

“At current gold prices, the gold alone would buy a Jaguar,” she murmured, shocked.

“Interesting, that a poor working cowgirl would know that,” Mallory replied.

She handed the egg to Mallory. Her eyes were full of abused pride. “You think that I would steal from you?” she asked quietly, and searched his face.

“The evidence pretty much speaks for itself,” Mallory told her.

She looked from his angry face to Cane's shocked one and Tank's bland one. Darby lifted his chin.

“She's no thief,” Darby said shortly. “I may not be the world's best judge of character, but I'd bet
my retirement on this girl's honesty. Saw her run down a cowboy who dropped a five-dollar bill out of his wallet and didn't notice. Not the act of a thief,” he added.

“This was missing out of the case.” Mallory indicated the egg.