Remembering Red Thunder Page 2

  But if that’s all Ellen saw, she was missing the most important element. Once Kyle made something his, there was no taking it back—which was the only reason Garth hadn’t made a move on her himself. As pretty as she was, she wasn’t worth getting his eye blackened or his lip fattened because Kyle had trouble controlling his temper. Too bad Ellen didn’t understand that. Or maybe it was good. Maybe while Kyle was gone, he’d finally get a shot at her.

  The going would be good for Kyle. He was too much of a dreamer and needed a little dose of reality. A summer sweating on the range would see to that. Then maybe Garth could talk some sense into him. Owning the ranch would be much more satisfying than working it. Once Kyle had a taste of hard labor, maybe he wouldn’t be so hesitant to spend the trust fund that would be his when he reached twenty on one of Garth’s plans. Oil, lumber, cattle, horses, real estate. He’d get back the fortune his father had squandered.

  Let him go, he wanted to say to Ellen. He’ll come back. Garth quirked a smile. I’ll help you get over the heartache, darlin’. That had been the whole idea behind inviting Ellen to join them tonight.

  Kent was looking ill at ease as he gently tried to extricate himself from Ellen’s hold. But she just hung on to him as if he were a lifeline and she was drowning. She should have played it the way he’d told her.

  Without letting go of Kent’s arm, she snapped her head and an overbright smile toward him. “What about you, Garth? What are your plans for the summer?”

  He was glad to oblige. This situation was proving more entertaining than any drag race by the reservoir. “My uncle wants me to help him out with his real estate business. Says I’ve got charisma and charisma is important for attracting business.” He flashed her a grin to prove his point, saw Kent roll his eyes.

  “Your uncle’ll probably have you doing all the grunt work,” Kyle said, peppering the river with a handful of stones.

  Ellen ignored Kyle. “Why, that’s wonderful, Garth! Since you’re aiming to get yourself a degree in business administration, it’s right up your alley.”

  An in with the scholarship committee guaranteed him a free education. And Garth didn’t plan on doing grunt work for long. Unlike his father who’d struck out in too many directions without thought, Garth knew exactly what he was after. His planning and dedication had already shown him many shortcuts on the path to success. Give him a few years, and he was going to explode to the top. And like the river, nothing could stop him.

  Soon the Ramsey name would no longer stand for his father’s failures, but for Garth’s own success. People wouldn’t snigger behind his back anymore; they’d respect him and look up to him.

  “You done?” Kent asked Garth as he gathered the remnants of their fast-food dinner.

  “What’s your hurry?” The tension between Kyle and Ellen was just getting interesting. He did like watching a good fight. And if it was good enough, he’d have a sobbing Ellen to console on the way home.

  “I forgot I promised John Henry I’d stop by the Feed and Seed and pick up the oats he ordered. Come on. I’ll need your help loading.”

  Yeah, right, and if I believe that, you’ve got a jackalope ranch to sell me. John Henry had no more ordered oats than he’d held down a steady job since his accident at the sawmill ten years ago.

  Ellen latched onto the hem of Kent’s T-shirt. “Kent…”

  “Talk to him,” he whispered.

  “He’s past listening to me,” she murmured back, placing both her hands on Kent’s chest. “You talk to him, please, Kent. He listens to you.”

  From Garth’s vantage point, the touch looked mighty intimate—almost like a lover’s caress. Kyle didn’t miss it either or the way his brother and his girl stood, hip bumping into hip. Kyle could easily mistake her arms wound around Kent’s neck and the pleading look in her eyes as a come-on, especially in his foul mood.

  “This is between you and him.”

  “What are you two hatching?” Kyle asked. His fingers were flexing. His gaze narrowed. He was spoiling for a fight. Garth leaned back, ready to watch the spectacle.

  “Nothing.” As Kent picked up a wad of discarded napkins, Kyle grabbed his arm. “Let go, Kyle. This is between you and Ellen. I’m leaving, okay.”

  “Can you stop the river?” Fire burned in Kyle’s dark eyes, bringing forward the exotic good looks of his Caddo ancestors. The heat of anger had his face tight and his breath short and shallow. His grip on Kent’s elbow looked iron hard.

  “Kyle—”

  “I asked you a question. Can you stop the river?”

  Garth had no idea where Kyle was going with his hot-blooded question, but the wrong answer could break the dam of what little restraint Kyle still had. Kyle was feeling bullied and he’d never backed down from a threat.

  Kent glanced over his shoulder at Red Thunder rumbling behind him. Sweat glistened along his hairline. The convulsive swallowing had Garth believing Kent was having to choke down his own temper to keep the situation under control.

  “It takes a lot to stop a river,” Kent said calmly.

  “Exactly.” Kyle let go of Kent’s elbow and gestured grandly. “The river has to flow. If something tries to stop it, it might slow for a while, but eventually it goes around or through or over. It still flows.”

  Lord help us, Kyle was getting metaphoric. Garth never understood Kyle when he started talking in pictures. Facts and figures Garth understood; pretty words were too fanciful for him. Still, Garth thought as he looked at the river, there was a power there that couldn’t be denied. Its energy sang in his blood.

  “You’re talking to the wrong person,” Kent said.

  Kyle glowered at Kent. “You’re afraid to swim. That’s your problem.”

  “Kyle—”

  Kyle didn’t back off. He stepped forward and got in Kent’s face. “You’re afraid to even dip your toe in water just because you got stuck in a drainage ditch when you were five.” With the heel of both hands, he gave Kent a shove.

  “Your beef’s not with me.”

  “What you’re missing is life.” Kyle pressed closer. Kent took a step back. “It’s gonna pass you by. You’re going to end up all brackish and stale and she doesn’t see that. She doesn’t see she’ll hate you that way. She’ll hate her life, herself in the long run.”

  “Kyle, that’s enough!” Both hands around Kent’s biceps, Ellen tried to tug him out of the line of fire.

  Kyle’s nostrils flared.

  Kent gently set Ellen out of harm’s way.

  “Talk to Ellen.”

  “I don’t give a damn about Ellen.”

  “Yeah, right. Don’t know why she cares for a hothead like you, anyhow.”

  Kent made the critical mistake of starting to turn away.

  With an explosive grunt, Kyle rammed Kent with all his might. The force of the blow made Kent backpedal. He caught himself, then took another step to steady himself. The sandy bank crumbled beneath the weight of his hiking boot.

  Kent fell backward, seemed to hang in midair for an eternity. Horror etched itself into his face.

  Garth shot to his feet, then stopped himself short.

  Ellen screamed.

  Kyle swore and reached forward, grabbing for his brother.

  Kent hit the water hard.

  Kyle thrust out his hand farther. “Grab it!”

  He skimmed the tips of Kent’s fingers. The water carried Kent away. Kent latched on to a root on the riverbank. Kyle threw himself against the bank for a third attempt to save his brother. The sandy bank crumbled beneath him. Gravity pulled him forward and he smacked headfirst into the turbulent water, casting both of them into the current.

  Ellen shrieked. “Do something!”

  The swift river tugged furiously at both brothers like a predator tearing at prey.

  “Kyle, Kyle!” Ellen chased the water along the bank. “Do something, Garth! Help them!”

  Garth knew his strengths and weaknesses. He took one look at the water, at his frie
nds being whirled and spun downriver, and knew there was nothing he could do. He wasn’t going to mess with power like that.

  “Don’t just stand there.” Ellen grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him toward the shore. “Do something. They’re drowning!”

  “I’ll get help.” He turned and headed for the truck.

  Ellen pummeled his back. “Help them! You’ve got to help them before it’s too late!”

  A look over his shoulder showed him the river, bleeding red under the setting sun, had swallowed them both. Besides, he couldn’t swim. “It’s already too late.”

  That stopped the pounding, but did nothing to erase the fury narrowing her eyes and curling her lips. For the first time, he saw an underlying strength in Ellen he hadn’t known existed. “Help them, you gutless wonder, or I’ll tell your secret.”

  He sneered. “I don’t have a secret.”

  “Alice Addison.”

  She knew. He didn’t know how, but she knew.

  He had plans, big plans.

  He was getting out of this one-stoplight town. He was getting that business degree that would tell the world he was somebody. He was going to the top. Nothing was going to stop him.

  Nothing.

  He grabbed for Ellen….

  Chapter One

  Gabenburg, Texas. Present.

  The house was cool, cozy and inviting, and a deep sense of contentment filled him as he silently slid the glass door closed.

  He was home where he belonged.

  The rich aroma of simmering chili tantalized. The anticipated sweet tartness of the cherry pie sitting on the counter made his mouth water. The woman at the stove, adding a dash of cumin to what he already knew was perfection, was more enticing still.

  She hummed a tuneless song as she stirred. His mouth quirked in wry amusement. Taryn couldn’t carry a tune to save her life, but if she was humming while she cooked, he knew everything was right. She couldn’t have been home long since she still wore the white T-shirt and white cotton pants that were her uniform at the bakery she owned.

  Without taking his gaze off his wife’s back or the pleasing curves that had been on his mind all day, he quietly made his way across the kitchen. With a groan that was part surrender and part captivation, he wrapped his arms around her waist and dropped a greedy kiss on the side of her neck. She smelled like sugar and flour and roses heavy with dew. The combination never failed to make him hungry.

  As expected, she jumped and whirled in his arms. “What are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting you for another half hour.”

  The open welcome in her eyes, in her smile, deepened his sense of contentment, allowing him to shed the last of the weariness that had dogged him for the last hour of his twelve-hour shift at the sheriff’s office.

  Chance Conover grinned and pretended to look around the kitchen as if he’d walked into the wrong house. In truth, he’d tuned everything out but the woman in his arms. “Don’t I live here?”

  “I’m not ready for you.”

  Taryn plopped the spoon she was holding back into the pot and frowned her displeasure. But the effect was negated by the fact she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him back. Caught in a ponytail, the ends of her long brown hair tickled his arms. He loved the silky feel of her hair on his skin, of her body against his. After a long day at work, he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in her.

  “Well, sweetheart, I’m ready for you.” He kissed her again, long and slow, savoring the heady taste of her, reveling in her ardent response.

  Made a man grateful to have a woman like Taryn waiting for him at the end of a long day. She made him feel like a somebody, not the nobody who’d washed up bruised and battered on the shore of the Red Thunder River fifteen years ago. She made him feel real and solid. She made him feel needed.

  A man couldn’t ask for more.

  “You weren’t supposed to see until I was ready.”

  He held her at arm’s length and caged her gaze with his. He loved her eyes, the way they sparkled with life, the way they shone with love for him. “Well, now, I like what I see.”

  She blushed and batted her fingers against his shoulder. “You’re impossible!”

  Turning her head, she looked at the small round table in the middle of the kitchen floor. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

  For the first time since he’d walked into the kitchen, he noticed the scene set for seduction. On crisp white linen, silverware gleamed in the late-afternoon light. The fancy cream and gold china that had once belonged to Taryn’s mother scintillated. Red candles in their crystal holders were ready to be lit. The fragrance of pink roses from the garden competed with the chili’s spice.

  “What’s the occasion?”

  Coyly, she fingered the gold sheriff’s star on his uniform shirt. “It’s Friday night. Do we need an occasion?”

  Her soft smile and the deepening blue of her eyes were having their usual combustible effect on him. A wave of craving clawed at his insides. Even though Taryn’s chili was his favorite meal and her cherry pie was to die for, right now he’d skip the food for nourishment of the sensual kind. “You want me to leave and come back later?”

  She hesitated, then shook her head. “We can eat later.”

  With swift ease, he scooped her into his arms and started toward the bedroom down the hall. “I promise I’ll be hungry.”

  “I had everything planned.” A hint of disappointment colored her voice. She shrugged it away and a Mona Lisa smile soon graced her lips. “I may have a bit of news.”

  “What kind of news?” Her full, pouty lips distracted him, so he kissed them and set a sweeping tide of desire surging through him. That he still wanted her this fiercely after seven years of marriage amazed him.

  “It’s a surprise. You’ll have to wait.”

  But her voice had gone soft and her body molded itself to his with a liquid heat. Her arms twined at his neck and her fingers curled into his hair. And she kissed him back with such passion that his muscles quivered and weakened.

  He placed her on the blue-and-white quilt in their bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, admiring her. Her skin bloomed with need for him. Her sexy blue eyes had gone dark and dreamy. She reached for the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head. That she still seemed unable to resist his advances after all this time struck him with wonder.

  With a finger he traced the lace edge of her bra. The silk softness of her skin was a delight. The speeding of her breath caused an answering gallop of his pulse. He couldn’t resist the invitation of the pebbling of her nipples beneath the satiny fabric. Her soft sigh, the curling upward of her body to meet his touch as he thumbed one hard peak then the other made him acutely aware of the pulsating hardness of his body.

  “Dinner can wait?” He hated to ruin her surprise when she’d worked so hard to set the scene.

  She smiled at him in a way that told him she was fully aware of his desire for her and reached for him, bringing his face close to hers. In a voice raw and seductive, she said, “Dinner can wait.”

  They came together in a kiss that could have melted the polar ice caps. Taryn was fumbling with the buttons of his shirt when the phone rang.

  Both stopped mid-caress. Forehead rested against forehead. Breaths came in short, heated bursts.

  “Don’t answer,” she said, clutching his shirt collar with a frantic hold.

  “I have to.”

  The shrill sound was a counterpoint to their racing pulses. Then suddenly her eyes showed both disappointment and acceptance. “Tad’s on duty.”

  “I’m on call.”

  He nibbled the lobe of one ear, but the ring of the phone was fast cooling his ardor. “I’ll make it up to you.”

  Taryn bussed his cheek with a stiff peck. “I’ll go check on dinner.”

  Heart heavy with regret, he picked up the receiver on the small night table beside the bed.

  Before he could say anything, RoAnn McGarrity’s cutting voice chimed in. �
��Chance? Are you there?”

  “I’m here, RoAnn.” Taryn reached for her T-shirt and pulled it back on. Quietly, she left the room and a sinking feeling settled in his stomach. “If you think you’re sending me anywhere now that I’m home, you’d better think again.”

  RoAnn acted as the local sheriff’s office dispatcher. Folks kept their band radios tuned to the station frequency just to hear all the local gossip she managed to air over the waves.

  “I know it’s been a long day for you and I wouldn’t ask except Tad ain’t got your skill at dealin’ with an incendiary temper like Billy Ray Brett’s, and besides, he’s yankin’ old Ruby Kramer out of a ditch again.”

  “What’s with Billy Ray this time?”

  “He’s mutatin’ coyotes into wolves again. Swears he saw one sniffin’ at his herd.” She snorted. “As if his one mangy beast makes a herd. He needs your reassurance there ain’t no wolf-release program active in these parts. Before nightfall—if you know what I mean.”

  Yeah, he knew. If he didn’t handle this now, he’d be up handling it in the dead of night, and he had other plans for his evening.

  Resigned, he said, “I’ll go soothe Billy Ray.”

  He found Taryn in the kitchen. She accepted his arms around her, his kiss, but a skin of cool distance had grown between them. “I’ve got to go talk Billy Ray Brett out of hallucinating wolves. I won’t be long.”

  Her smile had a sad quality to it. “I’ll be waiting.”

  He jostled her hips against his. “It’ll give you time to finish your surprise.”

  She nodded and turned to the chili.

  Reluctantly, he stepped into the late afternoon’s skin-drenching humidity and into his cruiser.

  As sheriff, keeping Gabenburg safe was his job, and Chance took pride in what he did—just as his mentor, Angus Conover, had taught him. He owed Angus and he owed Gabenburg for taking him in, but it wasn’t gratitude that drove him to serve and protect as much as a genuine caring for the place and the people. Still, some days, like today when he was bone-weary tired and wanted nothing more than a quiet evening at home with his wife, he yearned for a simple nine-to-five occupation.