Chapter Five

“He’s certainly a handsome devil,” Ruth said as she sat down to the table on Josie’s porch.

“Don’t say that too loudly,” Josie warned as she slid Ivy into her high chair. “It’s a bad idea to feed that man’s ego, and knowing him, he isn’t far away.”

Her boss smiled. “What about feeding his stomach? I heard it growling while we were watching you gentle that new stallion this morning.”

Josie looked up in surprise, almost dropping the bowl of macaroni salad she’d whipped up for their lunch. “Jackson watched?”

“You seem surprised,” Ruth said.

She’d known he’d hang around, but she never dreamed he’d have any interest in her work. “He and I never agreed on horse training. Or much of anything else for that matter.” She handed the bowl to Mildred, who was already seated but hadn’t said much.

“I think he’s here to make trouble for Josie and Ivy,” Mildred blurted.

Ruth raised a brow at her friend. “Oh, you do, do you?” She chuckled. “What do you think, Josie?”

She felt the woman’s sharp eyes on her as she sat down. “I think he’s on a wild-goose chase. But I hope he finds what he’s looking for soon and leaves.”

Ruth nodded and glanced toward the pines behind the cabin. “Don’t you think you should invite him to lunch?”

“With us?” Mildred asked, apparently shocked that her old friend would want to share the table with him.

“Better to have him where we can see him, don’t you think?” Ruth said.

Josie hesitated. She could tell that Ruth was taken with Clay, although other than his looks, she couldn’t image why. But not asking him to lunch would look as if she had reason to avoid the man. Which was true. Or that she had something to hide. Ditto.

She pushed back her chair and went to the edge of the porch. “Jackson!” she hollered. “You might as well come join us for lunch.”

Silence.

“Try, please,” Ruth whispered.

She mugged a face at her boss but obliged. “Please?”

He came down out of the pines and at least had the good grace to look sheepish.

She couldn’t help laughing as she shook her head at him and went to get another place setting.

“Thank you for the kind invitation,” he said, tipping his hat to the ladies at the table and giving Josie his best smile when she returned with a plate and silverware. Ivy giggled and turned shy as he pulled up an extra chair and sat down next to her high chair on the opposite side of Josie.

They talked about the weather, horses and kids during the meal. Mostly Clay charmed Ruth, even softened up Mildred, and did his best to put Josie at ease.

But unlike the other women, Josie knew the threat he posed. She secretly hoped that Clay was wrong. That the man in the stables last night hadn’t been Raymond Degas. And that no matter who it had been, it had nothing to do with the stolen jewels. Or Texas.

But, like him, she couldn’t pretend it wasn’t an amazing coincidence that Raymond—or at least the man Clay believed was Raymond Degas—had led Clay to her.

The one woman at the table whom Clay charmed without any effort was Ivy. She definitely had taken to him, just as Mildred had said after their encounter in the grocery store.

And Clay, to her amazement, seemed to have a real way with the toddler. Who would have known? Josie had never seen him show any interest in children before. Or was it just Ivy?

The thought worried her. She told herself that her daughter just had that kind of effect on people. She was as much a charmer as Clay. It surprised her, though, that Clay Jackson would be susceptible to that charm. Maybe he did have a heart after all. Scary thought.

After they’d finished, Ruth offered to clear the table with Mildred’s help. When they’d both disappeared inside the cabin, he asked, “Where’d you learn to break horses like that?”

She looked up from removing Ivy’s bib and felt the heat of his gaze. “I don’t actually break them. I try to gentle them, to gain their trust and confidence so they let me train them.”

He smiled. “I’m familiar with the approach. I suppose it works sometimes, if you get lucky.”

She felt a surge of anger. “You just can’t admit that I might know what I’m doing when it comes to horses, can you?”

He met her gaze and held it, his smile fading, his eyes growing dark and serious. “You were great with that horse this morning,” he said, as if the words came hard. “Where did you learn that?”

She busied herself with Ivy again. “I’ve always loved horses, you know that. I used to watch my father and brothers.”

She knew he wasn’t buying it. “The O’Malley men don’t gentle horses.”

How true. “I also learned a lot watching your trainers, and I’ve read about the different techniques. The rest Ruth taught me.”

“Really,” he said, surprise in his voice. “So you learned some of it in Texas?”

She nodded, wanting to change the subject. “I really need to get back to work.”

He got up from the table, studying her openly.

She knew he was wondering if she’d ever worked with his horses. He no doubt couldn’t stand the thought that she’d ridden one of them.

She carried Ivy into the cabin. Clay jumped up to open the door and followed her inside, obviously not done with his interrogation.

“Ruth said you’d never worked with that horse before today,” he said.

“You don’t think Ruth would lie to you, do you?”

“It’s not that I doubted you—”

Right. She played patty-cake with Ivy, changed her and got her ready for her nap, although Mildred insisted she’d be happy to do it. Josie wanted the time with Ivy. She kissed her daughter and laid her down in the crib.

“Singa,” Ivy cried.

Josie glanced at Clay, who had followed her into Ivy’s room. She felt self-conscious, but she wasn’t going to let him disrupt the life she’d made for them any more than she could help.

She sang Ivy’s favorite song, one Josie’s father used to sing to her when she was a child. Suddenly she felt close to tears, her homesickness for Texas, the ranch, but especially her father and brothers, acute.

“You have a beautiful voice,” Clay said as she turned away to hide her tears and tuck her daughter in.

When she turned back, he was gone, the screen door downstairs banging behind him. Ruth came in to give Ivy a kiss and took Josie’s arm as they walked out of the room.

Ruth Slocum had given her more than a job. She’d recognized her love of horses and her desperate need to do something with her life for her unborn baby.

Ruth had advertised for a stable hand, and Josie had driven out to the ranch with little hope that anyone was going to hire her in her obviously pregnant state.

While Ruth showed her around the stables, Josie hadn’t been able to keep her hands off of the horses. It had been weeks by then since she’d been around horses. She’d missed the smell, the sound, the sight, but especially the feel of them. Under her palms. Under her saddle.

Later Ruth would tell her that it was her love for horses that made her offer Josie the job, which included a place to live on the ranch. Within days, Ruth pulled her out of the stables and into the training pen.

In the pen, Ruth had taught Josie more about horses than she dreamed possible and made her realize how much more she needed to learn. Horse training took a lifetime, Ruth had told her, but Josie knew now that it was what she wanted to do with her life, along with raising Ivy. Horses and her daughter were her life. She had no regrets about that. Only a deep sense of gratitude to Ruth.

She’d met Mildred through Ruth. The two older women had been friends since grade school. Both had been godsends to Josie. Along with giving her a job and a place to live, Ruth had dug out her son’s crib from the attic, and Mildred had collected clothing from her many nieces’ and nephews’ children for Ivy.

Josie often wondered how she’d have ever made it without both women. She just hoped that one day she’d be able to repay their kindnesses.

“Mind if I offer a little advice?” Ruth asked now.

Josie shook her head.

“Men are like horses,” she said. “What works with horses, also works with men.”

Josie blinked at her. “You aren’t suggesting that I try to…gentle Clay Jackson to a saddle?”

The older woman laughed. “Hell, yes. If you can communicate with a horse by reading his body language and sending similar signals back, why not do the same with a man?”

“I don’t have to read Clay’s body language, I can read his lips loud and clear,” she said, feeling tears close to the surface. “He always thinks the worst of me.”

Ruth tilted her head to study her. “What kind of signals are you sending him?”

“You don’t understand. There was a man in my past—”

Ruth laughed, her weathered face crinkling with humor. “Honey, it’s pretty obvious there was at least one man in your past.”

Josie had to smile in spite of herself. “There’s a lot you don’t know about Clay and me.”

“And there’s a lot I do,” Ruth said, squeezing her hand. “Would you give up on a horse after a few failed attempts? You have to school a horse, slowly and gently. Men are no different, honey.”

Josie smiled at the idea of schooling Clay Jackson.

“You have a gift when it comes to horses, Josie.”

“Yeah, well, believe me, I don’t have the same gift when it comes to men.”

Ruth laughed and released her hand. “Give it a chance. I think you’ll be surprised.”

As Ruth left, Mildred settled into the couch with her knitting. She made afghans for her church as part of a blankets-for-the-homeless project and swore that knitting kept her out of trouble. Josie thought she might take it up.

As she pushed open the screen door, she wasn’t surprised to find Clay leaning against one of the posts, looking toward the stables. In the distance, Ruth drove off in the golf cart she used to get around the ranch.

“Thanks for lunch. It was delicious,” Clay said, never forgetting his breeding or his southern manners. Old-school Texans and cowboys prided themselves on their manners.

“It was Ruth’s idea.”

“I’ll have to thank Ruth the next time I see her.”

She groaned, hoping he wouldn’t be around long enough. “Don’t you have something better to do than follow me around, Jackson?” she snapped irritably as he fell in beside her for the walk down to the stables.

“Nope. You are my work, Josie. And believe me, it isn’t easy. As a matter of fact, I’ve been thinking—”

“I’ll just bet you have,” she said, giving him a sweet-as-penuche smile.

“You really should smile more often,” he said. “You’re really quite attractive when you’re not frowning.”

She glared over at him.

“Sorry, just trying to help,” he said with a shrug.

“I’ll have you know that I’ve been doing fine on my own. I don’t need your help. Or your advice.” She started to walk away from him.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face him. “What makes you so damned ornery?”

“I’ve been bossed around my whole life,” she snapped, jerking her arm free. “By my father. By my three older brothers.” Her gaze narrowed. “And by you. Everyone knows what’s best for me. Even you treated me like I was one of your horses that needed to be corralled.”

“I treat my horses very well.”

“Oh!” she said, stomping away from him.

He shook his head as he stared at her rigid spine, the proud incline of her head. A woman with a lot of grit. Then he laughed softly and went after her. “A man can’t act protective around you.”

“It’s more than that, Jackson, and you know it.”

Damn her. She knew him too well. Although there was a lot she didn’t understand about him.

But she was right about one thing. He wasn’t here to protect her. Nor did he have any business trying to tame her in Texas. “I was out of line.”

That took some of the wind out of her sails. She’d obviously expected him to make excuses. She slowed, studying him as if she suspected he wasn’t being entirely honest.

He couldn’t remember a time he’d been more honest.

“I didn’t want to see you hurt. Odell Burton was nothing but trouble and you were—”

“Wild as an unbroke stallion? Isn’t that what you once told me?”

He wished he could take back some of the things he’d said to her. “Wilder,” he admitted. “But I was going to say young, just a kid.”

She stopped abruptly and turned, hands on her hips. “Well, I’m not a kid anymore.”

“You can say that again!” He let out a low whistle.

She narrowed her gaze at him. “What is it about me that scares you so much?”

He laughed. “Everything about you scares me, Josie.”

She shook her head at him, thinking he was joking, and turned and headed on down the hill to the stables.

He caught up with her in two easy strides. “You have to understand, Josie. I care about you. But I’m going to find those jewels and who helped Odell and Raymond steal them. I have the feeling that I’m getting close. I think I’m making some people nervous.”

She wagged her head at him, not looking the least bit nervous. “You’re so sure of yourself, aren’t you, Jackson. But if Odell and Raymond did pull off the robbery, why couldn’t they have gotten rid of the jewels a long time ago? What would be the purpose in waiting so long? They don’t strike me as men with a lot of patience. And if they are the fools you think they are, why didn’t they try to fence the jewels?”

He’d already wondered the same thing. “You make a very good argument.” And she’d known both men better than he had. All he had was his gut instinct. His gut instinct and Raymond Degas had gotten him this far. Straight to Josie O’Malley. “I will find the jewels.”

“That’s all that matters, isn’t it?”

He met her gaze. “Yes. I need to know who stole them and how they did it. I have a theory that the thieves got to the security plans in my office at the ranch.”

Nothing showed in her expression, but her eyes seemed a shade darker blue.

“I’m not going back to Texas until I get both. And you’re going to help me.”

She shot him a disbelieving look. “Why would I do that?”

He arched a brow at her. “To prove that you had nothing to do with the robbery. If you have nothing to hide—”

Her gaze narrowed, hotter than a summer afternoon. “I forgot, I’m always guilty until proven innocent with you.”

“Raymond didn’t get what he came here for,” Clay said, angry with her for trying to make him feel guilty. “He’ll be back. I intend to be here. One way or the other.”

“I see,” she said, biting off each word. “What is it you want from me?”

What he’d dreamed he’d had one night on a creek bank in Texas. But that was pure fantasy, and most of the time, he knew it. “Just the truth, Josie.”

Anger flashed in her gaze. “You sure you can handle the truth, Jackson?”

She had him there. “I also thought you might want me to stay in the cabin so I’d be close by if you needed me.”

She laughed. “Well, then you thought wrong,” she said, turning her back on him as she stalked away, her hips swaying in her tight-fitting jeans.

Could he handle the truth? He damn sure hoped so.

 

THE AFTERNOON PASSED slowly, with Clay watching her every move. She finally quit early and went up to the cabin to prepare supper. Clay didn’t make any effort to pretend he wasn’t watching her like a hawk or that he wasn’t still hoping to be invited inside.

Fat chance.

She walked away from him a few yards from the cabin, and when she looked back, he was gone. But not far, she knew.

She made his favorite meal, opening the kitchen window to let the smell waft out to him. Let him eat his heart out. Let him go hungry. Let him suffer.

She’d planned to spend the evening with Ivy, but Mildred reminded her that the two of them were expected over at the neighbor’s for a birthday party.

Ivy and the little neighbor girl, Rachel, were the same age, and Mildred often got them together to play. “She gets sick of all us adults around,” Mildred would say of Ivy.

Josie didn’t want Ivy to go, and Mildred must have noticed.

“We won’t be late. It’s good for Ivy to be around other kids,” Mildred said.

She couldn’t argue that. She just felt uneasy. As if a storm were blowing in. But the sky was clear. Not a cloud in the dwindling blue. The only storm that had blown in was Clay Jackson.

After Mildred and Ivy left, the cabin seemed too quiet, especially knowing that Clay was out there. She tried to read, but was too restless to concentrate.

She knew there was only one thing that would relax her. Even though it was getting dark, she headed for the stables.

 

HE LIKED THE DARK. The vast emptiness of night. It had a familiar universal appeal. It defied reality. He could pretend he was in Texas. He could pretend he was deep underground.

He felt a small thrill at the thought. But as much as he liked the dark, it didn’t do for him what the caves did. He couldn’t wait to get back into the caverns. Except next time, he wasn’t going alone. Next time he’d have Ivy O’Malley with him.

He smiled at the thought, because it wasn’t the toddler he was thinking about but her mother. Ivy was only a means to an end. He’d known for a long time what he wanted. What he deserved. Now he knew how to get it.

He waited until the last of the sun died away before he moved. He preferred moving under the cloak of darkness. Like a vampire coming out of his casket, he felt ready to roam with the disappearing light. He felt an infinity with the night as if it brought him to life and made him invisible. Maybe even invincible.

He definitely felt stronger, more powerful. Ready. Ready to give Josie O’Malley just what she had coming to her. The thought made him salivate. He felt the familiar tightening in his loins, the hammering in his chest. Expectation. He couldn’t wait to see her face. She’d taken so much from him.

Eventually he’d take what she cherished most. Take Ivy to a place of endless darkness. And Josie would follow. Josie.

And Clay Jackson.

He swore softly under his breath. Hadn’t he always known he’d have to do something about Jackson?

He breathed in the night, shifting his thoughts to something more pleasant. It was hard not to rush his plans. Not to make mistakes.

But part of the fun was the anticipation, the planning. Unfortunately, he had a couple of flies in the ointment he’d have to deal with first. He wouldn’t let anyone mess this up. Not again. He was too close.

As he moved through the darkness, the moon shimmered off the rock bluffs behind the ranch. He considered how he would kill Clay Jackson. He just wished he’d done it a long time ago.