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“So now you’re ganging up on me. Three against one.” The look Tori gave Will expressed more than words. She’d surrendered the battle but not the war. When it came to her daughter’s safety, there was no middle ground. She’d castrate that colt herself—or shoot him if she had to—before she’d let any harm come to Erin.
A strained silence fell over the table. Knowing she’d caused it, Tori smiled and deftly changed the subject. “So I’ve heard rumors that you’ll be sticking around, Beau.”
He shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable. “Till the roundup’s over, at least. But I’m only on leave from work. I haven’t quit.”
“You might as well hand in your notice tomorrow.” Will carved a slice off the turkey roast and laid it on his plate. “You know you’ll end up staying.”
“We’ll see.”
“What’s to decide? You belong here. We need you. Enough said. Anybody else want more turkey?” He carved three more slices and left them on the platter. The silence had descended once more. Tori could feel the tension between the two brothers creeping upward like the red line on a pressure gauge. Was it about to explode?
Bernice, ever the wise one, rolled her eyes and gazed up at the brass chandelier that hung over the dining room table. Her round, rosy face was a mask of innocence. “My, hasn’t it been a lovely day,” she said. “Do you think it’s too early to put out the tomato plants?”
Lute sat at a table in the Blue Coyote, sipping a Corona and feeling like a man. He’d been half afraid to believe the fifty-dollar payment from Slade would be there. But when he’d worked up the nerve to approach Stella, she’d given him a friendly smile and handed him a plain white envelope. Inside he’d found the cash—two twenties and a ten.
He’d planned on saving most of it for the down payment on a car. But his first paycheck from the ranch wouldn’t be coming in for another week, and this was like found money. It was a real treat, just sitting here with a decent beer in his hand and cash in his pocket.
It was a quiet night, even for a Wednesday. There were no more than a half dozen customers in the place. Lute’s gaze followed Jess as she wandered among the tables, keeping the patrons happy. She looked pretty tonight, he thought. Her clean, shiny hair curled around her thin shoulders, softening the sharp lines of her face. Her jeans were stylishly ripped—distressed, was that what they called it? Through the thready holes, glints of tanned skin triggered a light, pleasant buzz of arousal. And she was wearing those little pink boots he found so hot.
“Hi.” She paused at his table. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Maybe.” He remembered how Slade had talked to her. “What time do you get off tonight?”
Her gaze flickered. “About ten. We close early on weeknights.”
Lute did a quick mental calculation. Ralph wouldn’t be picking him up till midnight, so he’d have some leeway. “Want to share a pizza? If we hurry, we can get it before Burger Shack closes at ten-thirty. I can order ahead if I know what kind you like.”
Her eyes lit in a surprising way. “You’re asking me out on a date?”
“Just pizza. It’ll be too late for a movie. We can do that another time—I mean, if you want to.” Lute felt like a tongue-tied teenager. He’d never had much luck, let alone much experience, with girls, though he’d had sex once with a girl in his high school class who’d do it with anybody for twenty bucks.
But Jess was different. She was pretty and sweet in a way that made him want to do something nice for her, like take her out for pizza. Maybe when he got money and a car, she’d spend more time with him. He’d enjoy being seen with a good-looking girl. “So how about it?” he asked. “Want to go?”
“Sure.” She gave him a shy smile. “And I like Hawaiian.”
Jess watched the red lights fade as the rusty pickup vanished down the street. Turning away, she climbed the back stairs to her room above the Blue Coyote. It had been nice, sharing a pizza with young Lute. He reminded her of her kid brother, who’d died six years ago in a motorcycle accident. And he’d treated her like a lady, as if he didn’t know what she really was. It was almost like being in high school again. But she’d come a long way since high school—mostly in the wrong direction. She was long overdue for a change.
She’d sold Slade’s high-grade cocaine to a dealer she knew. Once she might have snorted it herself, but now she needed the money even more than she craved the high. She had to get out of this place, away from the people who were dragging her down.
She’d weighed the wisdom of warning Lute about Slade, then decided the risk was too great. Lute was already under the man’s spell. If he went to Slade with what she’d told him, it could be all over for her.
She already knew too much.
Slade’s trucking business was done on contract, with vehicles for freight, produce, livestock, hay, and feed. He employed three local drivers who, as far as Jess knew, carried legitimate cargo. But it was Slade who made the runs to Mexico, hauling baled Texas hay to a ranch two hundred miles south of Piedras Negras.
She’d already known he got the drugs through his Mexican connection. But it was by pure chance she’d discovered what was under the hay. Three nights ago, Slade had stopped by for a quickie on his way out of town. Since the bar was still open and her room was directly above the thin ceiling, they’d done their business on a blanket laid over the hay in the back of the closed truck. Jess was rearranging herself when she discovered she was missing a favorite earring. When she couldn’t find it on the blanket, she reached down between the hay bales. Her groping fingers contacted cold, smooth metal in the unmistakable shape of a gun barrel. She felt another, then another.
Slade had climbed out of the truck to let her finish putting herself back together, but he suddenly appeared below the partly raised door. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he’d growled.
His vehemence had scared her. When she’d stammered that she was looking for her earring, he’d seized her arm and yanked her roughly out of the truck. “I’ll buy you more damned earrings,” he’d growled. “Now get back in the bar and do your job.”
His tires had spat gravel as he roared out of the parking lot. Jess hadn’t seen him since, but her instincts told her Slade was dangerous.
She’d been saving money, planning to eventually leave and make a new start somewhere else. But something inside told her that she had to leave now—tonight.
There was less than a thousand dollars stashed away in her mattress. It wouldn’t get her far, but Slade would be back in the next day or two. If he found out she had discovered the guns he was smuggling into Mexico, anything could happen.
Opening the door of her grubby little room, she dragged her backpack out from under the bed and began stuffing it with the few things she could carry. She could only hope somebody on the road would give her a ride out of town, to someplace where she could buy a bus ticket.
