AK-Cowboy Page 4

“Wow. Now that’s exciting.”

  “Yeah.” Joey beamed. “I already have a dog. I named him Sparky.”

  “Nice name.”

  Joey took hold of Sean’s hand. “Sean and Grandpa got him for me.”

  Grandpa. The word bucked around in Tyler’s head like hooves to the temples. He wasn’t sure Troy had the right to the title.

  “Never saw myself as a dad,” Sean said when Joey walked away.

  “The kid adores you,” Tyler said. “So you must be doing something right.”

  “I can’t imagine a life without Eve and Joey in it.”

  “I can tell.”

  According to an email he’d gotten from Dylan, Sean had gone from renegade horse whisperer who disdained romantic relationships to husband and father in record time. But then Dylan had fallen just as quickly for Collette.

  It was almost as if Willow Creek Ranch had put a spell—or a curse—on them. Luckily, Tyler wouldn’t be here long enough for that to happen to him.

  Still, he impulsively looked around for Julie. She was nowhere in sight, though he doubted she could concentrate on work with this much noise to disrupt her.

  “Dad said you went out to get your bearings,” Dylan said, handing Tyler a cold beer. “Did you get to see much of the ranch?”

  “Just what I could get to by foot, but what I saw was impressive.”

  “We’re building the herd slowly, taking our time with choosing good breeding stock.”

  Tyler took a long swig of the beer. “Makes sense. I did stop at the horse barn. You’ve got some great-looking mounts.”

  “Acquiring horseflesh is Collette’s department,” Dylan said. “She’s as good at that as she is at photography.”

  “Most of my newly acquired knowledge is compliments of Sean,” Collette added, “but I do love working with the horses.”

  “And the lady makes a mean blackberry cobbler,” Troy said. He opened the oven. “Catch a whiff of that.”

  Tyler sniffed as instructed. “Now you’re talking my language.”

  Sean leaned against the kitchen counter. “Guess you don’t get a lot of cobbler in Afghanistan.”

  “Don’t recall it ever showing up in my MRE packs.”

  “Guess you didn’t get any good Texas beef, either. I’ve brought over some steaks,” Sean said. “We’ll throw them on the grill in a bit while Eve slings together her infamous spring greens and strawberry salad, both fresh from the local farmer’s market. Nothing like a real Texas meal to make a man glad he’s back in the Lone Star State.”

  “Me and Grandpa don’t do cooking,” Joey said. “We’re just the eaters.”

  “I hope I get picked for your team,” Tyler said.

  Tyler made the effort, but still the family trappings were starting to close in on him like smoke from an enemy explosion. It was as if everyone had put the years of separation and heartbreak behind them.

  Almost as if the murder had never happened right here in this house.

  “I’ll go to my truck and get the cooler with the meat,” Sean said.

  “I’ll help.” Tyler gulped down the remainder of his beer and set the glass on the counter with so much force that the clunk seemed to echo around the crowded kitchen. Family skeletons began rattling in his head like a pair of maracas.

  Julie stepped though the kitchen door before he could escape out the back. Everyone except Troy turned to stare at her and the room grew completely quiet.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting,” she said.

  Troy stepped beside her. “Not at all. Everyone, meet my houseguest, Julie Gillespie.”

  The mud was gone from her legs and she’d changed out of the revealing white shorts. But the black skirt and soft pink blouse she was wearing did just as much to fire Tyler’s imagination and libido.

  It wasn’t so much what she wore as the way she wore it, oozing femininity and confidence and still looking like a woman you could have a beer with.

  Collette was the first to stick out a hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

  Dylan grinned. “You’ve been holding out on us, Tyler.”

  “She’s not with me.” The words flew from his mouth a bit more brusquely than he’d intended.

  “I’m here to see Troy,” Julie said, setting the record straight.

  Troy nodded. “She’s here to compare notes with me on an old murder.”

  “So you’re a reporter?” Collette asked.

  “Yes. An investigative reporter.”

  The cordiality took an icy plunge.

  “Whose murder?” Dylan asked.

  “Muriel Frost,” Troy answered.

  Julie stepped farther into the room and placed her hands on the back of a tall kitchen chair. “Muriel was murdered about the time your mother was and in similar fashion.”

  “So immediately you thought of Troy Ledger,” Sean accused.

  Irritation surfaced with surprising force. Tyler could understand where his brothers were coming from, but Julie hadn’t exactly forced her way into the house. He was about to defend her, but Troy beat him to it.

  “I invited Julie to stay here. If any of you have a problem with that, take it up with me—privately.”

  The authority in Troy’s voice left no doubt who was head of the house.

  Eve finally broke the awkward silence that followed. “Excuse the chaos, Julie, but today is a very special occasion and emotions are running high. Troy’s son Tyler arrived just this afternoon, as well. He’s a soldier, on leave from active duty in Afghanistan.”

  “Yes, Tyler and I have met. But just so we’re all on the same page here, I’m not here to investigate Troy Ledger, but to coordinate our findings. From what I can tell, he’s investigated the Frost murder more extensively than the sheriff’s department did at the time of the murder or since.”

  Her direct and easy manner further diffused but didn’t completely eliminate the tension. Talk began to flow again in normal tones. A dog barked at the back door and Joey asked permission to go out and play. Dylan poured Julie a glass of white wine. Eve asked if Julie had been to the Hill Country before.

  Only Collette still appeared anxious. She stood in the rear corner of the kitchen with her arms folded over her chest and her lips pulled tight. Clearly her fears about Julie had not been relieved.

  “Let’s get that cooler,” Sean said.

  Tyler followed him outside, thankful for the escape.

  “Julie seems nice enough,” Sean said, “but I’m not easy having a reporter around. Dad’s got a right to privacy.”

  “I didn’t invite her to stay,” Tyler said. “He did.”

  “I’m not blaming you. I’m just saying something tells me that she’s walking, breathing trouble.”

  Tyler would have argued the point except that all his battle intuition told him that Sean was right.

  IN SPITE OF THE SHAKY beginning, the meal went well, at least for Julie. If she’d had a family, she’d have wanted them to be just like this. Kicking in with the cooking chores. All talking at once. Comfortable with each other. Making her feel welcome though she knew she wasn’t.

  She represented the past they were trying to escape. Troy Ledger’s imprisonment. Helene Ledger’s murder.

  Tyler wiped a streak of berry juice from his lips. “I haven’t had a meal like that in years.”

  “There’s plenty more cobbler,” Collette offered.

  “One more bite, and I’d explode.”

  “Anyone else?”

  Sean leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach. “Couldn’t hold it.”

  “Not tonight,” Dylan said. “Might hit it again for breakfast.”

  “Yeah, for breakfast,” Joey echoed. He licked his lips. “With ice cream.”

  “Cobbler is not a breakfast food,” Eve said, but her smile and fake shock hinted she might give in.

  “You ladies relax on the porch, and the men will take care of cleanup,” Dylan said.

  “Not a chance.” Eve jumped up and started gat
hering the bowls and eating utensils. “It’s Tyler’s first night on the ranch. You guys need to do your brotherly bonding bit.”

  Collette picked up the red stoneware baker that held the remainder of the cobbler. “Have you noticed how much more willing Dylan is to take on KP duty now that you have the new dishwasher?”

  “Yep.” Troy pushed back from the table. “I like it myself. Worth every overpriced cent.”

  The men helped clear the table before heading out the back door.

  Joey watched them leave but didn’t ask to join them. “May I watch TV?”

  “Did you feed Sparky?” Eve asked.

  He grinned as if he knew that question was coming. “I tried to but he didn’t come when I called him.”

  “Then call again.”

  Joey did—loudly. In minutes, a gorgeous, panting retriever appeared at the back door. Eve let him in and the golden-haired pup rushed over to Joey, jumping on him and licking him as if they’d been separated for months.

  “Be sure he has fresh water, too,” Eve reminded.

  “Yeah, ’cause I bet he’s been out chasing squirrels,” Joey said, beaming as if that were a laudable accomplishment for a dog. “He loves coming to Grandpa’s house.”

  Julie grabbed a wet cloth and began wiping the counter and the range top, choosing to listen more than talk as the conversation moved to the house that Eve and Sean were refinishing.

  “I found the perfect antique handles for the kitchen cabinets at a garage sale in Marble Falls last week,” Eve said. “And Sean was able to rescue enough beams from the Fielders’ old barn to reinforce the family room ceiling.”

  “I can’t wait to see the finished product.”

  “That may take awhile. Sean got a call from Carl Upton of Upton Farms in Tennessee. He’s having problems with a very expensive racehorse and he wants Sean to take a look at it.”

  “So Sean is still taking a few horse whisperer jobs,” Collette said. “I wondered if he’d give that up entirely now that he’s starting his own horse farm.”

  “I don’t think he can,” Eve answered. “It’s in his blood. And he has such a talent for it that I’d never encourage him to quit.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “But right now he’s thrilled to have Tyler here,” Eve said. “It was so sad how they were all separated after Helene’s death and farmed out to various and assorted members of her family.”

  “Who all believed that Troy had killed their mother,” Collette added. “It’s amazing any of the boys have given him a chance.”

  “And now three have come home,” Eve said. She handed a bowl she’d just emptied to Collette who was loading the dishwasher. “How’s your photography going?”

  “Great. I’m primarily focusing on my creative work now and taking care of the horses. But I’ve agreed to work the Bluebonnet Festival Dance on Thursday night at Memorial Park.”

  “That should be fun. Maybe I can talk Sean into coming if he’s in town.” Eve turned to Julie. “You should come, too. And talk Tyler into it. He could use a little Texas two-steppin’ after all that time in the Middle East.”

  Dancing with Tyler. Swaying to the music. His body pressed against hers. The last thing she needed, she warned herself. The hot tingles dancing along her spine paid no attention to her declaration.

  “I’m not sure what I’ll be doing on Thursday and I definitely can’t speak for Tyler,” Julie said.

  “But if you’re still in town and not busy, you should come with or without him,” Eve insisted.

  “It does sound tempting, but I don’t have the right clothes with me for a dance,” she said truthfully.

  “You could wear what you have on. It’s casual and I heard that they’re bringing in a great Western band from Austin.”

  Collette wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and stepped away from the sink though it still held dishes waiting to be loaded into the dishwasher. “Julie’s not here for festivals, Eve. She’s here to conduct an investigation.”

  Julie took a deep breath. The gloves had just come off. She worked to keep her tone cordial. “I have no intention of causing trouble for Troy Ledger, but if my being here bothers you, I can stay at a motel in town.”

  “I’m sure Collette didn’t mean it that way,” Eve said.

  “I don’t care where you stay,” Collette agreed, “but I don’t want Helene’s murder and Troy’s trial forced onto center stage again. It makes it almost impossible for Troy to move on.”

  “It’s not knowing who killed his wife that keeps him from moving on,” Julie argued.

  “Julie’s right,” Eve said. “Troy’s obsessed with finding Helene’s killer. He was while he was in prison, but he’s even more determined now. So if Julie can help him find that peace, then I think we should support her efforts.”

  Collette took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Her expression was still grim, but she nodded as if acquiescing. “Just don’t go placing blame on Troy. He’s innocent, and he’s a good man who deserves better.”

  “Like I said,” Julie reiterated, “I’m investigating the murder of Muriel Frost. There’s no evidence that suggests that your father-in-law even knew her.”

  “Evidence and truth are not always the same thing,” Collette said. “But if you’re determined to go through with your investigation, my father may be able to help you. He’s Glenn McGuire, our local sheriff. If you contact him, tell him that you’re a friend of mine but it’s probably better not to mention Troy Ledger. There’s a bit of bad blood between them.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  Eve stopped loading dishes and turned to face Julie. “If you’re going to stay on here, I should warn you to be careful. This house has strange and formidable powers.”

  “I’ve heard stories about the house being haunted,” Julie admitted. “I’m afraid I’m a cynic where ghosts are concerned.”

  “It’s not the ghosts you should fear.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “The Ledger charm. Collette and I are living proof of its power to seduce.”

  “I’ll watch for Cupid at every step,” Julie promised, thankful for the reduction in tension.

  They needn’t worry about her and Tyler. The attraction was devastating, at least on her part. But once Tyler found out that she was lying with practically every breath, he’d dump her faster than yesterday’s coffee grinds.

  It couldn’t be helped.

  When an hour had passed without the men returning, Collette, Eve, Joey and Sparky decided to take advantage of the evening breeze on the wide front porch. Julie claimed fatigue and retired to the sanctuary of the guest room.

  Her footfalls echoed along the length of the narrow hallway. Streaks of moonlight filtered through the bedroom windows and cast a shadowed glow over the paste-colored walls. In spite of her proclaimed cynicism, Julie’s mind wandered to the ghost tales that had circulated prolifically right after Troy Ledger’s release from prison.

  It was easy in the eerie semidarkness to imagine Helene’s ghost roaming the halls of the sprawling ranch house. If she was here, then perhaps she’d help Julie find Muriel Frost’s killer, especially if that person had also taken Helene’s life.

  But then if she were going to do that, she would have surely helped her husband already.

  Unless Troy really had killed her.

  Julie flicked on the guest room light, took a sheaf of notes from the suitcase she’d left open on the bed and dropped into the wooden rocker that overlooked the garden. Flicking through the pages, she located the one listing the similarities and differences in the two murders.

  Both Helene and Muriel had been young mothers living in semi-isolated areas. Helene lived in this ranch house. Muriel lived in a rented farmhouse at the end of a quiet blacktop road.

  Helene’s five sons had been in school that day. Muriel’s seven-year-old niece who lived with her had been home ill. She’d witnessed the murder while shuddering in fear behind a staircase.

&n
bsp; Helene’s clothes had been ripped from her body before she’d been shot three times. Muriel was also found naked and brutally beaten, being shot twice in the head at close range. Nothing had been stolen in either instance. Neither woman had been raped.

  Julie’s cell phone rang. She grabbed it and answered without glancing at the caller ID.

  “Hello.”

  “Is this Julie Gillespie?”

  The voice was male and unfamiliar. Her pulse rose. “Yes. Who is this?”

  “Sheriff Caleb Grayson from Llano county. I thought we had an understanding that you were to take your nosy reporting somewhere else.”

  “As I remember it, you did all the talking. I didn’t promise anything.”

  “Just stay out of my space and you and I will do just fine.”

  “How far does your space extend?”

  “Over every square inch of my county.”

  “I’m not in your county.”

  “No, you’re over in Mustang Run, and let’s keep it that way.”

  “How do you know where I am?”

  “I have my ways. And you’re making a big mistake hanging out with Troy Ledger. He’s a killer who’d still be behind bars if some fool judge hadn’t figured that black robe gave him precedence over the whole damn jury that convicted him.”

  “Why do you care what I do, Sheriff? Why does my investigating a cold case from your files bug you so much?”

  “I just don’t like some pseudo journalist like you trying to make my deputies look like a bunch of country bumpkins with no clue how to conduct an investigation. If the evidence had been there, we’d have found Muriel Frost’s killer. End of story.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Get in your car and keep moving, Julie. We don’t need your kind around here.”

  “Leave while I’m still breathing?”

  “Leave before you start more trouble than you can handle.”

  The connection clicked and went dead.

  Julie gritted her teeth and went back to her notes. She would not be frightened off by an arrogant, obstinate sheriff. There was far too much riding on this case.

  LET DEAD DOGS LIE, or join them.

  The words printed on the note had been troubling Tyler all evening though neither he nor Troy had mentioned the threat to Dylan and Sean. Having a reporter in the house seemed to upset them enough.