Книга - No Getting Over A Cowboy

No Getting Over A Cowboy
Delores Fossen


The golden cowboy of Wrangler’s Creek returns home to Texas to discover some old flames never fizzle…There are plenty of things Garrett Granger hadn’t counted on losing—his child to miscarriage, his wife to another man and the family business thanks to a crooked CFO. He also hadn’t counted on moving back to the family ranch, where he’s met by another surprise—former flame Nicky Marlow, who is renting his grandmother’s old house.Nicky’s been rebuilding her shattered life since her husband’s death two years ago. But Garrett’s timely arrival in Wrangler’s Creek doesn’t automatically make him the missing piece of the puzzle. Even if he does seem to adore her two-year-old daughter… Even if seeing him again stirs up old feelings Nicky would gladly keep buried, forcing her to wonder if moving forward has to mean leaving everything behind…







The golden cowboy of Wrangler’s Creek returns home to Texas to discover some old flames never fizzle...

There are plenty of things Garrett Granger hadn’t counted on losing—his child to miscarriage, his wife to another man and the family business thanks to a crooked CFO. He also hadn’t counted on moving back to the family ranch, where he’s met by another surprise—former flame Nicky Marlow, who is renting his grandmother’s old house.

Nicky’s been rebuilding her shattered life since her husband’s death two years ago. But Garrett’s timely arrival in Wrangler’s Creek doesn’t automatically make him the missing piece of the puzzle. Even if he does seem to adore her two-year-old daughter... Even if seeing him again stirs up old feelings Nicky would gladly keep buried, forcing her to wonder if moving forward has to mean leaving everything behind...


Praise for USA TODAY bestselling author Delores Fossen

“Clear off space on your keeper shelf, Fossen has arrived.”

—New York Times bestselling author Lori Wilde

“Delores Fossen takes you on a wild Texas ride with a hot cowboy.”

—New York Times bestselling author B.J. Daniels

“In the first McCord Brothers contemporary, bestseller Fossen strikes a patriotic chord that makes this story stand out.”

—Publishers Weekly on Texas on My Mind

“Fossen delivers an entertaining romance between two people with real-life issues.”

—RT Book Reviews on Texas on My Mind

“This is a thrilling and twist-filled read that will keep you guessing till the end.”

—RT Book Reviews on Lone Wolf Lawman


No Getting Over a Cowboy

One Good Cowboy

Delores Fossen






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Table of Contents

Cover (#u4835a4aa-b27a-5acd-8816-a52bb215ca8c)

Back Cover Text (#ud4454dc3-f3b7-529a-a7ae-1f56c2a10512)

Praise (#u57b8e3aa-38a0-50f1-ad12-440579094612)

Title Page (#u769f7c0b-3ef6-56fd-9b3f-6704038b1324)

No Getting Over a Cowboy (#ud6e59b21-1a03-58e1-a6d3-376e26b56348)

CHAPTER ONE (#uc9fd9f9c-9447-530f-905a-ed8b863a5ff9)

CHAPTER TWO (#uef684f0f-0ce2-5e78-be41-39f4002c350b)

CHAPTER THREE (#uee8b3923-524b-5206-910f-58d23a5a9085)

CHAPTER FOUR (#u1a0b7246-cfc4-57e4-a52a-4b7f78977b2a)

CHAPTER FIVE (#u35bcc38b-7a5d-59b9-b616-dec9bb08f56e)

CHAPTER SIX (#u54e348e2-ef75-5593-961a-85674fe76b76)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#u46e20b89-986c-5ff8-a24f-f5976b38f6f1)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#ub06cd82e-d006-569c-82d0-ded68b97ea30)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

One Good Cowboy (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWO (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


No Getting Over a Cowboy (#uae2c159f-6e9b-5cff-a007-ef738a91a632)

Delores Fossen


CHAPTER ONE (#uae2c159f-6e9b-5cff-a007-ef738a91a632)

PANTIES IN A BUNCH ’Cause Your Car Won’t Start? Use Camel-Tow!

That’s what was printed on the magnetic sign on the door of the tow truck. Next to it was a picture of a woman in tight white pants sporting a camel toe, complete with arrows pointing to it as if making sure no one missed it.

No one could. Garrett Granger was certain of that.

Garrett tried to call his sister and mom to see if they knew what was going on. No answer from either of them, but he left messages for them to call him back. Then, he got off his horse and walked closer to get a better look at things and make sure he hadn’t misread the sign on the flamingo-pink tow truck.

Nope, no misreading.

And his eyes hadn’t deceived him about the other things he was seeing, either. The person who’d driven that truck to the Granger Ranch had apparently not only trespassed but had also broken into his great-grandfather’s house.

Such that it was.

Garrett had always thought of the place as more of an ancestral eyesore than an actual house. But hell in a big-ass handbasket, it was his eyesore. Or rather his family’s.

His great-grandfather, Z. T. Granger, had built the monstrosity nearly a hundred years ago and had chosen it as his final resting place. Z.T.’s grave was in the backyard. The old guy probably hadn’t counted on the place becoming a mecca for squatters or whatever the heck this was.

It wasn’t as if the eyesore had a welcoming appearance, either. It was painted a dull shade of purple, the color of an old bruise, and the shutters were urine yellow. To complete the god-awful curb appeal, there was a slime-green front door rimmed with milky red stained-glass panels.

The place didn’t scream “Y’all, come on in now and make yourselves at home.”

Garrett went even closer to see if he could spot a familiar face or anything that would help him make sense of his trespassing-squatter-mecca theory. There was a woman sweeping the porch, another raking the yard, and he could see yet a third woman in a window on the second floor. She had a feather duster and appeared to be clearing out cobwebs. A little girl was playing in the area by the open gate.

They weren’t sneaking around, weren’t trying to hide, so if these were indeed squatters or run-of-the-mill trespassers, they were either bold or stupid. Or maybe this was some kind of cleaning fetish cult.

Still, why had they driven here in a tow truck?

Garrett heard the galloping sound behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder to see his cousin Lawson. Lawson dismounted before his horse had even fully stopped, and he made a beeline toward Garrett.

Together, Lawson and he ran the Granger Ranch, another of Z.T.’s legacies, and now the two of them stood side by side studying the Gothic house and the people meandering around it.

“What the hell’s going on?” Lawson asked. “And why is that kid poking at that cow shit with a stick?”

Garrett didn’t have the answer to the first question, but as for the second, he knew from experience that kids poked at shit. Even kids who wore pink overalls and had their hair in pigtails.

“I just got here,” Garrett explained. “I came out to look over things for the work crew, and I saw them. I have no idea who they are or why they’re here.”

“Maybe they’re from the historical society?” Lawson added. “They could be sprucing up the place since it’s obvious we suck at doing that.”

It was a good guess, but Wrangler’s Creek was a small town by anyone’s standards, and Garrett knew every female for miles around. Every kid old enough to poke at a cow patty, too. He didn’t recognize any of these folks. Plus, there wasn’t a woman in the historical society under the age of seventy. These “visitors” were all much younger. And then there was the tow truck. No one in Wrangler’s Creek, possibly the entire state of Texas, would drive a vehicle like that.

“Or they could be those ghost groupies,” Lawson offered.

Another good guess. Since the house looked like something out of a bad horror movie and because there were rumors of Z.T.’s spirit haunting the place, it had indeed attracted ghost hunters over the years. But as far as Garrett knew, they’d never resorted to trespassing. Or cleaning.

“Looks like they got here using the old ranch trail.” Lawson, again.

His cousin tipped his head to the tow truck and the SUV behind it, both of which were parked about ten yards from the house. Once there’d been an actual dirt and gravel road leading to the place, but the pasture had long claimed that. Now, the only way to get to it was on horseback, walking a half mile from the main house or by driving on the trail. The last time Garrett had checked it out, there’d been more potholes than trail surface, and there were bushes growing in spots. It wouldn’t have been a smooth ride to get here.

“How many of them are there?” Lawson asked.

“Four.”

But Garrett was being optimistic. That was only the number he could see. Since the old three-story house had over twenty-five rooms, it was possible that the entire population of a small country had taken up residence there.

On his land.

All right, it wasn’t all his exactly, but Garrett had always thought of the ranch as his domain. His sister, Sophie, ran the family business, Granger Western. His brother, Roman, owned a rodeo promotion company, and Garrett ran the ranch. He made all the key decisions and knew everything that went on here.

Everything except for this.

“As soon as I spotted the visitors, I tried to get in touch with Sophie and my mom,” Garrett went on as he walked closer to the house. “Maybe they’ll call back soon.”

Unfortunately, there were dead zones for cell service out here, but Garrett didn’t intend to wait for any more info. He could find out what these women, and the child, wanted and then send them packing. He had a work crew arriving first thing in the morning to expand the nearby pond, and he didn’t want any hitches with that. Having people parked in the very spot he intended to dig would definitely qualify as a hitch.

The women had obviously spotted Lawson and him because the two outside were now huddled together, talking and pointing at him. A third woman came out of the house and joined them. The only one who ventured to meet him was the little blond-haired girl.

She still had hold of the crap-coated stick, but she also caught his hand as if he were a long lost friend. “I Kay-wee.”

Garrett had no idea how to respond to that. None. But he kept walking toward the house with the hope that she’d let go of him. He wanted to put a quick end to this, and it might somewhat diminish his air of authority if he was holding hands with a toddler.

Plus, there were the other feelings that came. They always did when he saw a baby or a young child. It’d been three years since he’d lost his own daughter. Three years, two months and six days. He could have provided the hours if someone had asked. And yes, he was still counting.

Always would.

Some aches just didn’t go away no matter how much time had passed.

“Cows,” Kay-wee pointed out as they got closer to the house. Or rather t-ows.

She used the stick to point and point and point. She could have pointed for a long time since there was a herd just on the other side of the picket fence that surrounded the house and grave.

The cows were forever breaking through that fence, and that was probably why there’d been a patty so close to the porch for the girl to poke. They would continue to break through, too, and that’s why these folks had to go. Once the work crew had expanded the pond, they could reinforce the fence so he could bring in the new shipment of cattle.

“I’m Garrett Granger,” he said to the women.

They stayed huddled, their heads together like conjoined triplets, and they continued to whisper.

“Gare-if,” the girl attempted. She finally tossed the stick.

“This is the Granger Ranch,” he added to the women. “It’s private property.”

More huddling, more whispering. Since the only one talking to him was Kay-wee, he looked at her. “Why are you here?”

She let go of him to lift her hands and shrug. “Mommy,” she said as if that explained everything. It didn’t explain diddly squat. She took hold of him again and started leading him to the porch.

The huddling women scattered to the side of the house and from there they eyed him as if he were a rattler ready to strike. Funny, because most women in town gave him sad, puppy-dog looks. Once, though, he’d been considered the golden boy of Wrangler’s Creek. These days, Garrett felt more like that discarded shit stick.

For just a second he got a flashback of why he now had that shit-stick label. It wasn’t often a man got to see a video of his wife blowing some guy in the backseat of a VW, but Garrett could add that to his list of life experiences.

Another woman appeared in the doorway, glared at him and then scampered off. Garrett thought about doing a smell check of his armpits. He’d been working with a new cutting horse all morning and was sweaty. That might explain the scurrying and rattler looks, but if he did stink, maybe that would just get the squatters moving faster.

He walked into the entry and looked around. Not that he could see much in his immediate line of sight. The house was a wooden ant farm with some rooms that had no purpose other than to lead to other rooms. It was a time capsule of sorts since it still had all of Z.T.’s furniture and stuff. Some things also left behind by his great-aunt, who’d lived here long before Garrett was born.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t stay here,” Garrett called out to anybody who might be in hearing range.

The little girl kept hold of his hand, and with Lawson right behind them, they began to make their way through the room maze. Someone had indeed cleaned the place and taken off the old sheets from the equally old furniture. Not a good sign. In his general experience, people who swept and dusted had plans to be around long enough to enjoy their cleaning efforts.

They went through the parlor, the place where Garrett had lost his virginity to one of the ranch hands’ cousins who’d been visiting the summer he’d turned sixteen. That’d been eighteen years ago. Mercy, a lifetime. But still it was a sweet memory.

There was also a library that conjured up some deflowering memories. Seventeen years ago, he’d brought a cute flute-playing classmate out here. One thing had led to another, and even though he hadn’t known it was going to happen beforehand, she’d lost her virginity to him. Things hadn’t lasted between them, neither the sex nor the relationship. A month or so later, he’d broken up with her so he could date the woman he’d eventually marry.

Those were his only sexual experiences in the place, but he was betting Lawson and his brother, Roman, had committed some serious debauchery here.

Judging from the manly grunt Lawson made, Garrett was right about that.

“I’ll try to find someone who knows what’s going on,” Lawson grumbled. “One who can speak in more than two syllables.” And he headed back out the front.

Garrett wished him luck, and the little girl and he kept walking. They finally made their way to the kitchen where Garrett saw yet another woman, this one in the process of mopping the floor. She wasn’t the little girl’s mother, though, since this woman was easily in her seventies or even eighties. Sugar-white hair and skin as pale as paper, she didn’t eye him the way the others out front had. In fact, she smiled. And she spoke. More than two syllables, too.

“You’re one of Belle Granger’s boys, aren’t you?” the woman asked but didn’t wait for him to answer. “Let me guess which one. Garrett or Roman? Hmm.” Tapping her fingers on her chin, she looked him over from head to toe, but her gaze lingered in his crotch area. “I used to diaper both of you boys.”

Garrett hoped like the devil that she didn’t want to do a boxers check to see if she recognized his equipment. “Who are you?”

“Loretta Cunningham.” She smiled again, the way one would for a social visit. Which this wasn’t. Come to think of it, crazy people probably smiled that way, too.

Garrett made a mental note to call the county mental hospital to see if they’d had any escapees.

“Look, if you’re one of those ghost hunters—” Garrett started. But he didn’t get far with that comment because Loretta interrupted him.

“Lordy, no.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “Those shows scare the livin’ daylights out of me.” She stopped, glanced around. “You don’t think there are actual ghosts here, do you?”

“Yeah, I do,” Garrett lied since it seemed like something to get her moving out of there.

But Loretta didn’t budge, and she smiled again. “You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you, boy?” And she just kept on talking. “Your grandma and I went to school together back in the day, but I moved to Beaumont when you and your siblings were just little bitty things. You’re Roman, aren’t you? Even when you were her age—” she bobbed her head to the little girl “—you always looked ready to pick a fight. And from what I’ve heard, you’ve done your share of fighting.”

“I’m Garrett,” he corrected.

“Oh.”

That one little word said it all. Loretta Cunningham knew about the divorce. But she probably knew a lot more than that. Maybe about the baby they’d lost. But more likely her suddenly red cheeks were because she’d heard about his ex-wife’s blow job in the VW. Had perhaps even seen the video. Apparently, she’d also seen the fight-picking expression on his face and had mistaken it for Roman’s.

The little girl let go of him again and took off running up the back stairs. Good. Because Garrett was about to get blunt with Loretta, and it was best if the little ears weren’t around for that.

“Who owns the pink tow truck and the SUV?” Garrett asked.

Loretta gave him a “what tow truck and SUV?” look before she snapped her fingers. “Oh, those. It’s Mrs. Marlow’s SUV. Cancer,” she added in a whisper. “And the pink truck belongs to Lady Romero. Drug overdose,” she added in another whisper. “That’s not Lady’s real name, hair color or bosom, by the way, but I don’t make judgments about such things.”

She also didn’t make sense. Why had she added cancer and drug overdose in there as if it were necessary to this very confusing conversation? Apparently, questions weren’t getting what he needed from her ramblings so Garrett tried a different approach.

“I’m sorry, but you have to leave,” Garrett came right out and told her. “This is pasture land, Granger land,” he added, “and tomorrow there’ll be a work crew all around this place. It won’t be safe for you or the little girl.”

Loretta made another “oh.” Then, paused. “Didn’t your mother tell you?”

That was not a good start to an explanation. Any explanation. His mother, Belle, had some good qualities, if he graded on a curve and added bonus points for her giving birth to him, but good communication wasn’t one of Belle’s better skills.

“Tell me what?” Garrett demanded.

“Oh, dear.” Loretta did another hand press to her heart. “Your mother said we could stay here.”

“It’s not her place to do that.” Actually, it wasn’t Garrett’s, either. Not legally anyway, since Roman owned the ranch. But since Roman had no interest in anything to do with this ranch or the family, he left decisions like that to Garrett. Besides, Roman had his own business to run.

Garrett took out his phone to try to call his mother again and then cursed when he saw he was in another of those dead zones. “How long did my mother say you could stay here?”

“I’m not sure,” Loretta answered. “Maybe you can speak to Mrs. Marlow about that. She’s the one who talked to your mother. She’s upstairs.”

Maybe she was the cobweb duster. One with perhaps cancer. And Garrett would deal with her soon enough, but he held out hope that Loretta could give him some real information just in case this Mrs. Marlow turned out to be a tight-lipped scurrier like the women outside.

Garrett went with his next questions. “Who are you people anyway? Why would my mother have said you could stay here? And why the heck would you want to be here of all places?”

Loretta’s mouth moved, repeating those three questions, and she held up her fingers one by one as she went through them. “We’re friends. Because Belle’s doing us a favor. And because it was big enough for all of us.”

Well, they were answers. Sort of. But not the answers he wanted.

“Are you sure you’re not Roman?” Loretta continued. “Because you look like you’re ready to pick a fight again.”

“I am ready to do that,” he snarled. Then, he huffed and silently cursed. Being a badass was his brother’s specialty. He was actually a nice guy. Most days anyway, but this didn’t feel like most days.

“Look, Loretta, there’s been a misunderstanding,” he said. “One that I’m certain we can all work out. But trust me when I say that you can’t stay here. The work crew will have some big equipment, including a bulldozer. It’s not safe,” he repeated.

“You’re sure?” Loretta called out to him as he started for the stairs.

“Positive,” he assured her and kept on walking. Then, paused. “Is this Mrs. Marlow well enough to talk? I mean, she’s not bedridden, is she?”

“Lordy, no. Why would she be bedridden?” Loretta patted her chest again. “You think she’s sick?”

Yeah, he had thought that. After all, Loretta had mentioned cancer, but perhaps she’d been talking about Mrs. Marlow’s astrological sign.

The second floor was right out of a class project for a horror movie. A long, dark hall with a creaky floor, complete with burned-out wall lights and old paintings that were tilted and bowed enough to send OCD folks into a panic attack. He followed the hall to the room where he’d seen the woman in the window earlier.

Not there.

“Mrs. Marlow?” he called out.

Nothing. Well, not a voice anyway, but his phone rang, and he saw his sister’s name on the screen.

“Sorry, I was out riding, and I just now got your voice mail,” Sophie said the moment Garrett answered. “Are there really squatters at Z.T.’s house?”

“I’m not sure who they are, but one of them said Mom gave her permission to be here. You know anything about that?”

“No. Why would she do that? And why would anyone want to stay at that place anyway?”

“I asked first. Where’s Mom?”

“In the family room.” It wasn’t the best of connections, and there was plenty of static on the line. “I’m pretty sure she’s eating lunch and watching her soap.”

Which meant she had turned off her phone or else had the TV volume cranked so high that she hadn’t heard it ring. Of course, the third possibility was that she was avoiding him because she knew he’d be pissed about this.

“Can you go to her right now and ask her what the hell is going on?” He added some profanity to that.

“I will, but I’ll leave out all the language that’ll make her lecture you at her earliest convenience. Hold on. I’m heading to the family room now.” At least he thought that’s what Sophie had said through the static.

“Do you remember Mom ever mentioning a woman named Loretta Cunningham or a Mrs. Marlow?” Garrett asked, and he got moving, too, past the rows of bedrooms on each side of the hall.

“Not that I can recall. Wait... I do remember Mom mentioning a Loretta. She used to babysit us, I think.”

And apparently diaper them.

“Well, she’s here,” Garrett added. “She’s the one who claims Mom said she could stay.”

“Maybe Mom meant they could stay for the day or something. You know, for, like, a picnic.” More static, more noise, too, and he thought some of that noise was coming from a TV. Since the static was hurting his ears, Garrett put the call on speaker and kept searching for the elusive Mrs. Marlow.

“Garrett?” he finally heard his mother say. “You’ve had three calls on your office phone. All from women. I don’t think they’re calling about business, either. Now that you’re divorced, I think they want to get in your pants.”

Garrett groaned. That was the last thing he wanted to talk to his mother about.

“It’s not right,” his mother went on. “Those women just want to use you.”

Yes, and if his mind ever got back to a good place, he just might let those women get in his pants until he could work his way through a jumbo box of condoms.

“And speaking of the divorce, Meredith called, too, when she couldn’t reach you on your cell phone,” his mother continued before he could speak. “She said she needed to see you about something. Wouldn’t say what exactly. Needless to say, I don’t approve. I don’t think it’s right for your ex-wife to want to get into your pants.”

He’d been wrong. This was the last thing he wanted to talk to his mother about.

Garrett finally managed to get a word in edgewise. “Mom, I’m calling about Loretta Cunningham. I’m out at Z.T.’s house now, and she’s here.”

“Loretta’s there?” She sounded overjoyed about that. And static-y. Since the static was only getting worse, he stopped walking, hoping that would help with the signal. “She used to watch you kids for me when I needed a break. She’s the one who gave me that homemade ointment that cleared up the rash on your tushy.”

He would have groaned again if it’d do any good. “Please focus, Mom. Did you tell Loretta she could stay at Z.T.’s place?”

“No, of course not.”

Instant relief. He could be the asshole after all and demand that the women leave. He could even pay them for the cleaning they’d done. Then, he could get that work crew in to deal with the pond and fence.

“Any idea why Loretta thought you’d told her she could stay here?” Garrett pressed.

But the line went dead. While it would have been nice to hear what his mother had to say about that, it wasn’t necessary.

“Garrett Granger?” someone said. It was a woman, and she stepped out from the last bedroom at the end of the hall.

Because of the shot lights, Garrett couldn’t see her that well, but she started walking toward him. “Yeah. And you are?”

“Nicky Marlow.”

Ah, finally. “There’s been a misunderstanding.” On your part, Garrett wanted to add. “My mother didn’t give Loretta permission to stay here.”

“No,” she calmly agreed, and she took something from the canvas bag she had in her hand. It was still hard to see, but it looked like some papers. “But she gave me permission. Actually, she gave me a one-year lease.”

Shit. His stomach landed near his kneecaps. No. This couldn’t be true.

She came closer, thrusting that paper at him. The lease, no doubt. The one that his mother better not have signed. Garrett snatched it from her and had a look for himself.

His stomach flopped down to the dusty floor. Because that was indeed a lease, indeed his mother’s signature.

He looked up to tell the woman that one way or another, the lease had to be broken. But the argument died on his lips when he looked at her face. That’s because this wasn’t Mrs. Marlow. This was Nicky Henderson.

The cute blonde flute player Garrett had deflowered seventeen years ago. And then dumped.

Not exactly good memories.

Apparently not for her, either. Judging from the way Nicky’s mouth tightened, this was one woman in Wrangler’s Creek who had absolutely no desire to get in his pants.


CHAPTER TWO (#uae2c159f-6e9b-5cff-a007-ef738a91a632)

IT WASN’T EASY for her to stare down the man with whom she’d made her awkward sexual debut, but Nicky managed it. It helped that Garrett wasn’t exactly giving her the smoldering looks he had the night of said debut. In fact, once he got past the initial shock of seeing her, he started glaring.

All in all, he was a good glarer, too. Sharp, precise and with a smidge of I’m in charge here so get lost.

Nicky hadn’t seen him in seventeen years, not since they’d graduated from high school, but he hadn’t changed that much. By some measures anyway. He still had the thick dark brown hair that looked as if he’d just climbed out of bed after having sex. The same sizzling blue eyes that coordinated well with the smoldering looks. But there was something different about him, too. Something she knew a little too well.

Life had smacked Garrett Granger upside the head with a proverbial two-by-four. She recognized the world weariness, the impatience. The slight F-you attitude.

“My mother was wrong to give you that lease,” he growled. Speaking had to be hard with his jaw muscles that tight.

“She signed it,” Nicky pointed out, and she took the lease from him because he looked ready to vaporize it with his glare. She had other copies, but she didn’t want to have to go back to San Antonio to get them. That would mean a forty-five-minute drive.

He cursed. Stopped. And Nicky thought maybe he’d remembered that he was the “nice” Granger brother, but she followed his gaze over her shoulder where she spotted her daughter, Kaylee, who was coming out of the bedroom that Nicky had just been cleaning.

“Gar-if,” Kaylee greeted. She went to Garrett as if they were best buds and took his hand. “See my room.”

“How do you know my daughter?” Nicky asked at the same moment, Garrett said, “This is your daughter?”

Nicky nodded. Garrett gave her another dose of stink eye that he thankfully didn’t aim at Kaylee. Because if he had, Nicky would have let her own F-you attitude kick in, and she would have shown him the door. It didn’t matter that he was a Granger because he wasn’t her landlord. His mother, Belle, was.

“I met Kaylee outside earlier,” Garrett snarled. “She was poking a stick in a cow pie.”

Nicky groaned, immediately tugged Kaylee away from Garrett and checked her daughter’s hands. There was no visible poop, but she’d need the hand sanitizer. She should buy stock in the company as often as she had to use it.

“I thought Mrs. Ellery and her sisters were watching her,” Nicky explained.

Later, she would need to give Kaylee a lecture about cow pies and staying closer to her since the Ellery sisters apparently weren’t the stellar babysitters they claimed to be. Ironic since they were named for various goddesses of protection: Aradia, Diana and Hera.

Kaylee led Garrett back to the room. “It’s pink,” her daughter declared.

It wasn’t. Well, except for one dust-coated doll in a pink dress sitting on top of the chest of drawers. Everything else was gray, drab and probably festering with mold and things Nicky didn’t want to identify. She’d need the full year of the lease just to get the place clean.

Garrett looked around, managed a semi nod and equally semi smile for Kaylee. “You can’t stay here,” he added to Nicky.

Nicky made a show of running her hand like a magician’s assistant over the lease. “This says differently, and I should know because I drew up this lease myself. Since I’m a lawyer, I can promise you that it’s all in order.”

That seemed to distract him or something, and he gave her a funny look. “You’re a lawyer? You said you were going to be a doctor.”

Nicky gave him a funny look right back because she was surprised he had remembered that. “My plans changed. I learned the hard way that I tend to vomit at the sight of blood, guts and bones.” Not a very professional reaction, and her instructors agreed. “I see you’ve become what you’ve always said you’d be—a rancher. But you’re also a business owner. Granger Western.”

Or Cowboy Mart as most folks called it since it sold Western supplies in bulk and at a discount.

Nicky guessed that the business was making the Granger clan even richer than they already were. Especially now that they’d worked through the kinks of a recent setback and investigation.

“My sister, Sophie, runs the business,” he provided.

She listened for any hint of his disapproval about that. There wasn’t any. Interesting because she’d read an article about a codicil to his father’s will that had ousted Garrett and turned the reins of Granger Western over to Sophie. Things like that could tear a family apart, but it appeared there’d been no tearing involved in their case.

Apparently his idea of “small talk” was over because Garrett took the lease back from her and pointed to the bottom line. “My mother doesn’t have permission to sign this. The ranch belongs to my brother.”

“Roman.” She nodded. “Yes, he owns the ranch, but he doesn’t own this house. I researched it, and according to your great-grandfather’s will, he left the house itself to his wife who then left it to your grandfather. He left it to your father, and since your father didn’t stipulate in his will who was to inherit the house, ownership passed to your mother.”

The look he gave her could have flash melted sand, and it had no sexual components to it whatsoever. Not that she’d expected anything sexual from Garrett. After all, he’d rid her of her virginity and promptly dumped her. Still, it was impossible for him to be completely nonsexual since he was still physically hot.

“I’ll have my lawyers look into the will, too,” Garrett added, “because I can’t believe my father didn’t spell that out.”

Neither could she, especially since his father had apparently spelled out everything else. It was possible he’d simply not cared enough about the place to bother with it. In fact, judging from the state of disrepair, none of the current Grangers had cared much about it.

Unlike her.

Just like that, the bad stuff came. Memories that Nicky wished would die the death they deserved. But at the end of that memory tunnel was this place.

This house.

She’d escaped to this place too many times to count.

That was something the Grangers didn’t know. But she’d used it to recoup and in some cases to heal, mentally and physically. No way, though, did she want to share all of that with Garrett. It was one of her many secrets, but if she was labeling them, that was secret number one.

Apparently, Garrett had no plans to share anything else with her, either. He took out his phone, no doubt to call his lawyers, but he mumbled something she didn’t catch when he saw that he had no cell reception.

“Why would you care if we’re here or not?” Nicky asked. “Other than the current dead bug population, the place has been empty for decades.”

“I care because tomorrow there’ll be workers here to expand the pond. I care because I plan to use every inch of this pasture for cattle. And I care because this is Granger land.” He’d gotten a little louder with each word, and by the time he made it to the last one, he wasn’t shouting exactly, but it was close.

“Well, I care, too,” Nicky argued. “And our being here won’t interfere with your workers or the pasture.”

She hoped. Though the place would be a beehive of activity. Temporarily, since she didn’t need any literal or metaphorical beehives in her life. Neither did the other women.

“Dolly-baby,” Kaylee pointed out, leading him farther into the room. “And boogs.”

She meant bugs. And, yes, there were some dead ones on the floor. Yet something else that needed to be cleaned. Nicky had decided to start with the highest points in the room and work her way down.

“Aydee.” That was Kaylee’s attempt at lady, and she pointed to the painting over the bed. Nicky had no idea who the woman was, but she was coated with dust, too.

Garrett glanced at the other things Kaylee was showing him—the bed, the lamp, the cobweb Nicky had missed when she’d cleaned the window. Even the trunk of old clothes that Kaylee had discovered. Then he snapped back toward Nicky.

“Who are those women downstairs and in the yard, and why are you here?” he demanded.

“Widows. We’re all widows.”

His gaze drifted to Kaylee.

“Well, with the exception of her,” Nicky clarified. “No child-bride arrangements in Texas. And you know Loretta Cunningham. She said she used to change your diaper.”

His nostrils flared a bit, and they flared even more when she glanced at the front of his jeans. An unintentional glance, but Loretta wasn’t the only woman in the house who’d seen that part of Garrett’s anatomy.

“As I’ve already told you, the other women are the Ellery sisters,” Nicky went on. “Drowning. All three husbands went when their fishing boat capsized.” Mentioning the cause of the widowhood was something that she and the others had gotten accustomed to doing when they made introductions to new members in the support group. “Then, there’s Mrs. Batson. Heart attack. But you might not have seen her. She’ll probably be skittish around you.”

A term that described every woman currently in the house but Loretta and her. Perhaps because she and Loretta were the only ones who’d seen Garrett without his underpants.

“Lady Romero is taking a walk,” she added. “But she’ll be back soon to help clean. Ginger Carson, respiratory failure, is in town getting some supplies.”

His jaw tightened even more. “Why? Are? You? All? Here?”

Apparently, he was getting impatient for more answers, but he probably wasn’t going to like anything she had to say.

“Because we’re all in a support group for widows and divorcées, and we thought it would be a good idea for us to have an actual retreat for those who need it.”

Retreat was such a tidy little word, but Nicky thought Garrett might not like to hear that it could turn into a place where women could fall apart. Women like her. A place where no one would be around to see them if they went bat-shit crazy.

No one except for Garrett, that is.

“Widows?” he repeated. That seemed to be a prompt for her to provide more. More as in personal stuff, but Nicky had no intention of getting into that with him. Not in front of Kaylee. Maybe not ever.

“Most of us are young widows,” Nicky emphasized. “With the exception of Loretta, we lost our spouses or significant others while in our twenties, thirties and forties. The women need this house,” she added, hoping it would help. It obviously didn’t. Since Kaylee was volleying glances between them and hanging on every word, Nicky tried to make those words sound as pleasant as possible. “Some have rented out or sold their homes to come here. They’ve quit their jobs. They’ve rearranged their whole lives so they could have this experience and take the time to heal.”

Of course, not all would be able to come here and do that. Those widows with school-age children hadn’t been able to take off that kind of time. Others simply hadn’t been able to come because it would have meant a loss of income that they couldn’t afford. Nicky had been able to help some with that by covering all the expenses of the house itself, but it still wasn’t enough to allow some of the widows to be here.

“This isn’t a healing place. It’s a pasture on a working ranch.” Garrett didn’t follow suit in the pleasant department. “I’m sorry, but you can’t stay.” It sounded like some kind of monarch’s decree, and he headed out of the room and into the hall. Since Kaylee followed him, so did Nicky. “My lawyers will be in touch with you about negating the lease.”

Nicky caught up with Garrett and stepped in front of him. “You’d really throw out a group of widows and a three-year old? How will that make you look? It’ll tarnish that ‘good guy’ image of yours.”

She perhaps should have held off on mentioning the image thing. But then again, he probably wouldn’t have been pleased with anything she told him right now. Like about the furniture that was being delivered any minute. And the movers she’d hired to put some of the existing furniture and knickknacks into storage rooms. Or the painters or repairmen.

Nicky definitely wouldn’t mention the cocktail/ice breaker party she was throwing and that his mother would be attending.

“You’ll never even notice we’re out here,” Nicky added.

“Trust me, I’ve already noticed. No way can you have people living here with all the work going on,” he said. “And as for my image, it’s already tarnished.”

A polite woman would have pretended she didn’t know what he was talking about. But she did know.

Man, did she.

And it was best not to mention the firsthand knowledge she had of that situation. That was her secret number two. Besides, she still had an argument to win with Garrett.

“Your work crew won’t be coming into the actual yard,” she went on. “So, there’s really no problem—”

“They’re tearing down the fence and replacing it with a new one. There won’t be much of a yard left when they’re finished. In fact, it’ll be more like a barrier to keep the cattle from getting in and trampling Z.T.’s grave.”

Since the grave was practically at the back porch steps, it was possible for the newly designed backyard to extend less than six feet from the house. That definitely wouldn’t give them much outside space.

“What would it hurt to keep the yard area as is?” Nicky asked. “I mean, you’re getting by with the pasture you have now—”

“I’m bringing in more cows, and I need every inch of this land. It’s taken me months to work out the deals to get the land surrounding the ranch, and the expansion of the pond is the next step.”

Clearly, she was getting nowhere. “I’ll talk to your mother about this.” She headed for the stairs so she could find a spot where she had phone reception. “I’m sure we can work out a solution.”

Nicky wasn’t sure of that at all, but Belle Granger had to be more reasonable than her son.

“Mrs. Marlow?” Loretta called out. “Uh, I think you should come down here.”

“In a minute,” Nicky answered. She finally got some reception bars about halfway down the stairs so she stopped to make the call. Kaylee, however, bolted down the stairs, heading in the direction of Loretta’s voice.

“It doesn’t matter what my mother says,” Garrett went on. He huffed and took out his phone again, too. “I’ll look for a place for all of you in town. There are several shops that have gone out of business, and you can maybe use one of those buildings.”

She didn’t want a shop in town. Nicky wanted the privacy and quiet that she thought she’d get at the Granger Ranch. She’d healed here before, and she could do it again.

“Mrs. Marlow?” Loretta, again. “You really, really, really need to get down here right now.”

Nicky froze for a moment. One really would have alarmed her, but the trifecta of reallys meant something was wrong. Maybe it was nothing more than a spider or a repair that needed to be done.

Garrett stayed on the stairs to make his call, but Nicky didn’t press in his mother’s number. Instead, she hurried to the kitchen. She immediately got confirmation that this was more than a spider issue or a repair. Loretta was even paler than she usually was, something Nicky hadn’t believed possible. Kaylee obviously hadn’t thought this was anything worth waiting around for because she was already playing on the back porch.

“What’s wrong?” Nicky asked the woman.

Loretta shook her head and pointed to one of the rooms off the kitchen. Nicky hadn’t been in this one yet, and the door was shut.

“It’s in there,” Loretta said.

So, maybe a critter sighting and nothing major after all. Well, unless the critter was a grizzly bear. Pushing that uneasy thought aside, Nicky threw open the door. It was a small butler’s pantry with cabinets and countertops on both sides. Loretta’s flashlight was on the floor, and it was still on, blaring light around the narrow space.

In the center of the cabinet rows was yet another door. That one was open. And Nicky picked up the flashlight so she could aim it at whatever had spooked Loretta.

“Holy shit!” flew out of her mouth before Nicky could stop it.

“What is it?” Garrett asked. Until he spoke, she hadn’t even known that he’d walked up behind her, and Nicky nearly knocked him over when she ran back into the kitchen.

“There’s a skeleton in the closet,” she managed to say. “A real one,” she had to add when Garrett stared at her.

Nicky felt her stomach lurch. That was the only warning she got before she puked on the freshly mopped kitchen floor.


CHAPTER THREE (#uae2c159f-6e9b-5cff-a007-ef738a91a632)

GARRETT NOW KNEW there was something worse than having a body buried in the yard. It was having a second body in a closet. Unlike Z.T.’s, Garrett figured this one wasn’t there by choice.

It was certainly something he hadn’t planned on encountering when he’d started his day. Ditto for the widows and the toddler. Just one of those things would have been bad enough, but the shit storm had provided three all at once.

Along with some sobs, tears and a few oh my Gods.

Garrett had to admit that he’d contributed to the oh my Gods. And he’d had some serious unsettling moments. That unsettling had eased up just a little though when he realized the dead body wasn’t exactly fresh. It was a skeleton, an old one from the looks of it, and he was wearing men’s clothes. Specifically, boxers with hearts on them and a straw hat. At least this wasn’t someone who’d died recently.

Garrett didn’t know anything about this man, but the sick feeling continued to roll through him. Not enough to vomit as Nicky had done, but close. A guy was dead. And it didn’t help that his last minutes on God’s green earth had been in this house on Granger land.

“Everybody stay back,” Chief Clay McKinnon called out.

The widows, minus Loretta and Nicky, were peering into the kitchen from the back door. Thankfully, Loretta had had the good sense to take Nicky and Kaylee upstairs so they wouldn’t have to be near the corpse.

Garrett stayed back, too, in the dining room. Far enough away from the puke smell but still close enough if Clay needed anything from him. Not that he probably would. Clay was not only his soon-to-be brother-in-law, he was also an experienced cop and knew what he was doing.

“I’ll get the medical examiner in here,” Clay said. “Along with a photographer. Did anyone touch the body after it was discovered?” he added to Garrett.

“No, I’m pretty sure no one did.”

Even though Garrett hadn’t actually been side by side with Nicky when she’d seen the skeleton, he knew from her reaction that she’d gotten out of there as fast as she could. He would have the bruise to prove it, too, since her head had slammed into his shoulder. As the high school quarterback, he’d been hit by two-hundred-and-fifty-pound football players who hadn’t rammed into him as hard as Nicky had. And as for Loretta, well, she definitely didn’t look like the corpse-touching type.

“Any idea who the guy is?” Clay asked.

Garrett had to shake his head. “No one’s lived here for nearly fifty years, since my great-aunt Matilda.” He paused, frowned. “You think he’s been dead for that long?”

Clay lifted his shoulder. “Hard to tell without some testing. The fabric on the boxers and hat are rotting, but they’re still mainly intact. There don’t appear to be any signs of trauma to the body. No bashed-in skull, broken neck or bones busted from bullet wounds. There’s also no dried blood around him, but over the years the rats and insects could have eaten that.”

That brought on some more oh my Gods from the widows.

Maybe this would get them all out of there. Fast. Garrett cursed himself. These women had already had their spouses die so this was probably hitting them harder than it was him. Still...they had to go.

He hated to think about something like that now, but having them there wouldn’t make this easier. Plus, Clay wouldn’t want them hanging around while he was conducting an investigation.

“This is a clusterfuck,” Garrett heard Lawson say as he walked up behind him. “And it’s about to get more clustered. Belle and Sophie are on their way. They’ll be here any minute.”

Garrett groaned because his mother didn’t usually make situations better, but she might know something about this. It was more than a little unsettling to think that, but it was equally unsettling to realize that over the years he’d camped out in this house. Had brought two girls here. Hell, once Roman and he had had a party. All while there’d been a dead guy in a closet.

“Your great-aunt was married?” Clay asked Garrett.

“No. Not that I ever heard anyway. She didn’t stay here long. According to what my mother told me, my great-aunt moved off after only being here a few months, and then she passed away in the seventies.”

Clay lifted an eyebrow, and Garrett immediately figured out why. Maybe the reason Aunt Matilda had moved was because she’d killed a man and left the body behind. Hell. Not exactly a good thought to settle his stomach.

“I’ll search local records and ask Belle about it,” Clay went on, “but since I haven’t lived around here that long, maybe you can help fill me in. Are there any longtime missing persons that the older townsfolk have mentioned?”

“No,” Lawson and Garrett said in unison. “Anything like that would still be gossiped about,” Garrett added. “Maybe the guy was a repairman or something. He could have slipped and fallen, and Matilda might never have even known.”

Yeah, he was reaching, but he didn’t want to consider the worst. That a man could have been murdered.

“Decomposing bodies stink,” Clay said. “If she was here when he died, she would have definitely known.”

Another round of oh my Gods from the widows.

Garrett heard the footsteps behind him, and for a split second, he thought his mom and Sophie had already arrived. But it was Kaylee making her way into the dining room.

“Mommy puked free times,” she said, and as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she took hold of Garrett’s hand.

He glanced around to see if Loretta or Nicky was with her, but the toddler was alone. “Where’s your mom?” he asked.

“Puking,” Kaylee quickly answered.

Well, Nicky had said something about having stomach issues when body parts and blood were involved so he guessed this wasn’t a surprise. Still, he didn’t want the little girl around all the talk of rats eating blood or rotting bodies. Heck, he didn’t especially want to be around it, either.

Garrett led Kaylee to the foyer, intending to take her back upstairs to leave her with Loretta, but he didn’t even make it to the steps before his mother and sister came hurrying in. Both looked alarmed and were out of breath.

“I tried to keep Mom at home,” Sophie said to him right off.

Garrett silently thanked her, knowing there was nothing she could have done if their mother was hell-bent on coming here. Which she clearly was.

“It’s true?” his mother asked. “Did Matilda really murder someone and put the body in the kitchen closet?”

Maybe his mother hadn’t noticed Kaylee, and Garrett put his hands over the child’s ears for part of that, but Kaylee had no doubt heard things a three-year-old shouldn’t have heard.

“Either hold your questions or speak in pig Latin,” he told his mother.

His mother’s gaze finally landed on the girl. Landed, too, on the way Kaylee had latched on to Garrett’s hand. “Who is she?”

“Kay-wee,” Kaylee answered.

Garrett provided his mother with more information. “She’s with the widows. You know, the ones you gave a lease? A lease that can’t happen because of the expansion I’ve got going on.”

If his mother was bothered by anything he’d just said, she didn’t show it. She stooped down, smiled at Kaylee. “Well, you sure are a pretty little thing.” She gave Kaylee’s pigtail a gentle tug. “And look how you’re holding Garrett’s hand. That’s so sweet. She obviously likes you.”

That was code for his mother letting him know that she wanted a grandbaby. She already had one. Roman’s son, Tate, but he was almost thirteen now so her mother was apparently getting grandbaby fever.

“No,” Garrett said to his mother, and he figured she knew what that no meant. There’d be no kids in his future. Not after... Well, just not after. If he wanted his heart ripped out again, he’d do it himself.

His mother stood, meeting his gaze. “You didn’t used to be so negative, Garrett. Honestly, I don’t know what’s gotten into you.”

Really? He wasn’t about to rehash the last three years and two months of his life. Not when there was something new that needed to be dealt with.

Garrett’s phone rang, and he glanced down at the screen to see Roman’s name. Since he had the lease-signing culprit in front of him, a conversation with his brother could wait. He pressed the button to send the call to voice mail.

“Matilda,” Belle repeated before Garrett could say anything. “I should have known she could k-i-l-l someone.”

That got his attention. And he was thankful his mother had spelled out the key word. “You really think she could have done this?”

“Absolutely. Agoraphobia, my f-a-n-n-y. That woman had secrets, I tell you, and I’m betting the d-e-a-d f-e-l-l-a was one of those.” Belle leaned in to whisper the rest. “Matilda had h-o-t p-a-n-t-s.”

Garrett hoped that was a fashion comment, but he doubted it was. “Did she have men visit her here?”

“Well, of course she did. That’s what women with h-o-t p-a-n-t-s do. Now, mind you, I don’t know the names of those men, but Loretta might remember one or two of them. She was still living in Wrangler’s Creek when Matilda was here.”

Then, Clay would need to talk to both Loretta and his mom. And speaking of Loretta, that was Garrett’s cue to turn this conversation in a different direction. Yes, the body was top priority, but Garrett had a priority of his own.

“Why did you give these women a lease?” he asked Belle at the same moment his mother asked, “Are the widows upset because of the d-e-a-d b-o-d-y?”

He huffed. “Of course, they’re upset,” he verified. “I’m upset. And you’re not getting out of explaining to me how you could sign a lease without talking it over with me first. These women can’t be here.”

His mother patted his arm in a “there, there” gesture. “It was the right thing to do. They needed a place to stay, and it’ll be so nice to have someone living here again. The house needs that. It needs some cleaning and repairs, too,” she added, glancing around. “That cleaning crew I hired should have been here by now.”

It took Garrett a moment just to form words and rein in his temper. He loved his mother, most days anyway, but this was not one of those days. “You’ll have to break the lease. I’ll pay—”

But that was as far as he got because his mother’s attention was no longer on him. Smiling, she moved away from him and walked to the stairs. Kaylee did, as well, and that’s when Garrett saw Nicky making her way down the steps. Judging from the tight grip Nicky had on the railing, she still wasn’t feeling too steady.

“There you are,” his mother said, and the moment Nicky reached the bottom, Belle hugged her. “Nicky Henderson, you look beautiful as always.”

It shouldn’t have surprised Garrett that Belle felt as if she knew Nicky well enough to hug her. After all, they’d probably talked face-to-face to make arrangements for the lease. Later, Garrett was sure he’d hear all about how those arrangements had come to pass, but now that he had both of them together, he could get this sorted out.

“This has to be so upsetting,” Belle said. She broke the hug but kept her hands on Nicky’s shoulders. “I had no idea about the b-o-d-y being here.” She shuddered. “But Clay will sort this all out. He’s the police chief, and he’s marrying Sophie, you know? You remember Garrett’s sister, Sophie, right?”

“Yes.” Nicky’s voice sounded as unsteady as she looked. “Congratulations on your engagement.”

Sophie scrounged up a smile, nodded, thanked her and then excused herself so she could make her way to the kitchen, no doubt to check on Clay. Garrett would have liked for her to stay as his ally, but he could remedy this on his own.

Kaylee finally let go of Garrett and hurried to her mother. Or rather to Belle. She caught Belle’s hand.

“You and your daughter are both pretty as pictures.” His mother glanced around. “Where’s Loretta?”

“Upstairs, cleaning. She’ll be down in a minute.”

“Can’t wait to see her. We’ve got so much catching up to do.”

“Catching up will have to wait. Clay is bringing in a medical examiner,” Garrett explained to Nicky and his mother. “All of us are going to have to clear out.”

“Of course,” Belle agreed.

Finally, they were getting somewhere. But it wasn’t the direction Garrett needed them to go.

“Look at you,” his mother added to Nicky. Heck, Belle was smiling again. Definitely not a good sign. She leaned in, put her mouth closer to Nicky’s ear. “There’s a bond between people who were as close as Garrett and you were. I can see the way you look at him.”

Everything inside Garrett went still. He wasn’t sure how his mother had known about Nicky and him, but obviously she did. Things suddenly got a whole lot clearer. This wasn’t about providing a place for widows.

Belle was matchmaking.

And he was about to stop it.

“I’ll call some of the hands to get out here and help move the women’s things,” Garrett offered. Actually, it was more than an offer. It was a demand. There weren’t any hotels in Wrangler’s Creek, but there were some on the interstate back toward San Antonio. They could make their way there.

“No need. I’ve already taken care of that,” Belle assured him. “The men are on the way here now.”

Garrett blew out a breath of relief. But the relief didn’t last. Because he saw the look on his mother’s face, and he just knew in his gut that she was about to contribute to the shit storm.

“What did you do?” Garrett came right out and asked.

His mother patted his arm again. “Nothing that any other kindhearted woman wouldn’t have done. I called Roman and cleared it with him since the ranch house belongs to him and all.”

And then Belle added something that put the icing on this shit storm.

“The widows and Kaylee will be staying with us.”


CHAPTER FOUR (#uae2c159f-6e9b-5cff-a007-ef738a91a632)

“HAVE YOU LOST your sonofabitching mind?” Garrett asked his brother the moment Roman answered the phone.

“Some would say that I never had a mind to lose, sonofabitching or otherwise,” Roman calmly answered. “And now that we’ve gotten the profanity out of the way, I guess you’re calling about the widows?”

“You bet your ass, I am.” Garrett wasn’t through with the profanity just yet, and he shut the door to his office just in case some of those widows were around to hear him chew out his brother. “What the hell were you thinking when you told Mom she could let those six women stay here?”

“I was thinking the same thing I’m thinking right now with you. What’s the fastest way to get this person off the phone? Because I don’t have time for this. I’ve got a business to run, and I’m stomping out fires left and right while raising a tweenager with a bad attitude.”

That was the pot calling the kettle black. Roman had had a bad attitude since birth. According to their mother, when he’d come out breech, he’d immediately kicked the doctor in the balls.

Garrett wasn’t completely immune to Roman’s problems. Yes, his brother had them, but at the moment so did Garrett. “You need to call Mom back and tell her you made a mistake, that the women can’t stay here.”

“Now, you see, that would take time because Mom would plead her case for the women. I’d have to dig in my heels, and that would only make her plead more. That would then lead to multiple phone calls, and if she didn’t get her way, she’d show up here. Like I said, I don’t have time for that.”

Garrett was glad he’d shut the door because he cursed some more, throwing in some really bad words and insults. He cursed again when he looked out the window and saw some of the women pulling into the driveway behind the house. They had already started to arrive. And the first person out of the SUV was Nicky, of course.

“If you don’t rescind your offer, it’ll result in multiple phone calls from me,” Garrett threatened. “And at least one ass-kicking visit. I’m still your big brother.”

He couldn’t be sure, but he thought Roman chuckled. “Look, think of this as getting a lap dance. Just sit back, relax and enjoy it.”

That was the worst advice in the history of bad advice. “I can’t enjoy it. There’ll be six women in the house and a toddler. I can’t go to Z.T.’s place because it’s a crime scene.”

“Yeah, Sophie just called and told me all about that. Seems I can’t get off the phone today with people in my gene pool.”

“Well, you’re staying on the phone with me until we get some things straight. Do you have any idea how crazy things are here right now?”

Roman huffed. “I have an inkling. Sorry about the crime scene, the widows, the toddler and the inconvenience this will cause you and those plans you have to extend the ranch. But I’m not rescinding the offer because (a) it won’t be for very long, (b) Mom said some of the women don’t have any other place to go and (c) you can move to the guesthouse if you want to get away from them.”

“Sophie has her office in the guesthouse,” Garrett quickly pointed out. As CEO of Granger Western, she had an office in Austin, a huge one, but since getting engaged to Clay, she spent far more time at the ranch than she did in the city.

“Sophie’s not using the bedroom in the guesthouse since she’s sleeping at Clay’s. So, there’s your solution. Sorry that I can’t fix the delay on the ranch improvements, but it’s my guess that Clay’s not going to let you bring in digging equipment until he’s processed the scene.”

Roman was right about that. Nothing anyone could do about it. That still didn’t soothe Garrett any. There were only a few things he could control in his life, and the ranch was one of them. At least he had been able to control it until today.

“My advice?” Roman went on. “Since Nicky’s there, burn off some of your orneriness by having sex with her.”

That brought on more cursing. “How’d you even know Nicky was here?”

“Mom and Sophie told me. Plus, I ran into Nicky a few months ago at a rodeo in San Antonio, and she asked about Z.T.’s place.”

Garrett couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “A few months ago? You’ve known about it all this time?”

“If you were an engine, I’d say you were about to blow a gasket. No, I didn’t know she wanted to lease the house, but she did ask about it. Apparently, she’s always had a soft spot for the place.”

Hell. He hoped that wasn’t because she’d lost her virginity there. But what else could it be? He didn’t like the answer that came to mind.

“Did you take Nicky to Z.T.’s?” Garrett asked, and even though he didn’t add it, Roman knew what he was implying.

“No.” Roman stretched that out a few syllables. “You have a dirty mind, you know that? I liked Nicky, and I always felt a little sorry for her.”

“Because of what happened between me and her?” Garrett didn’t let him answer. “I’m tired of explaining myself when it comes to that. I met Meredith and fell in love with her. What was I supposed to do—stay with Nicky just because we’d had sex?”

“Again, you’re in dirty-mind territory. I didn’t feel sorry for Nicky because of what happened with you two. It’s because she always had this sad look in her eyes. Even before you, she had it. It reminded me of a wounded bird.”

Garrett tried to think back to those days, and yes, Nicky hadn’t always been the happiest of people. He always figured that was because she had seemed so anxious to get the heck out of town. His classmates had fallen into two categories—those who were planted in Wrangler’s Creek and those who thought it was a smelly Texas armpit. Nicky had fallen into the latter category. At least he thought she had until today.

“By the way, Mom’s matchmaking with Nicky and you,” Roman went on. “If you want to ease your suffering and rile Mom at the same time, then just start seeing one of the women in town. Sophie said half the eligible women in Wrangler’s Creek want to have sex with you. Half of the ineligible ones, too.”

Good grief. His sister and Mom were regular chatterboxes today. “No, those women want marriage and commitment. You’re the one they want to have sex with.” Roman couldn’t argue with that, and Garrett gave it one more try. “Will you call Mom?”

“I will if and when you break your sexual dry spell with Nicky.” And with that, Roman hung up.

Garrett stood there, staring at the phone, and he considered all the bad things he would like to do to his brother. He didn’t want any word of what Roman had said to sink in, but Roman was right about one thing. He was ornery and had been since this whole mess with Meredith. A shrink would probably tell him that he was depressed about failing.

The shrink would be right.

The shrink would probably also say that he was overcompensating for that failure by throwing his heart and soul into the ranch.

The shrink would be right about that, too.

At least there was no need for therapy now since he’d diagnosed his own problems. Too bad, though, that there wasn’t an immediate fix for this shit storm.

Garrett shoved his phone back in his pocket and started gathering up his things from his desk to take to the guesthouse. There wasn’t a box, but the trashcan was empty so he used that. He also grabbed his spare jeans and shirt from the closet, and he draped those over his arm. He kept a clean set there just in case someone dropped in for a meeting. Of course, he’d have to eventually go to his room and pack some toiletries and other clothes, but that could wait.

“I’m busy,” he snarled when there was a knock at the door.

But it opened anyway, and Sophie came in. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He didn’t bother hiding the sarcasm.

“Failed marriage. The six widows in the house. The dead body. You had to put your extension plans for the ranch on hold.” By answering that seriously, Sophie was adding her own sarcasm. “You haven’t had sex in months.”

“I’m not talking sex with you. Just had a little chat with Roman about that very subject.”

She flexed her eyebrows. “I would have thought you already knew about the birds and the bees.”

He was so not in the mood for her attempts to cheer him up. Garrett intended to wallow in it while he came up with a fix for this. “Don’t you have some other place to be right now?”

Sophie gave a smile that only a kid sister could have managed. “Nope.”

“Well, I do. I’m moving to the guesthouse. That means you’ll be inconvenienced until those women leave.”

She shrugged, started to help him gather up his things. “FYI. Mom’s trying to hook you up with Nicky.”

Apparently everyone in the known universe was aware of that. Well, maybe everyone but Nicky. Maybe if he mentioned it to her, she’d go running. It was worth a try anyway.

“Mom thinks you and Nicky have this permanent spiritual bond since the two of you had sex,” Sophie continued. “I told her if that were true, then Roman would have spiritual bonds with half the county. She didn’t like that.”

“I’ll bet. How the heck did she find out about Nicky and me anyway?”

“Gossip. She has selective acceptance when it comes to the things she hears, though. If it’s about me having sex, then it’s a vile rumor. If it’s about you, then it’s true. She believes you’ve had sex with the other half of the women in the county that Roman missed.”

“Not even close,” Garrett grumbled. He tossed his laptop charger and some files onto the stash, then added his laptop on top of the pile.

“It was pretty sucky, though, what you did to Nicky,” Sophie added.

Garrett lifted his head, looked at her. Or rather glared at her. “How do you know what I did to Nicky?”

“Please. I’ve got ears, and I might be four years younger than you, but I still heard the gossip.”

Yeah, and he was betting none of that gossip had painted him in a good light. Not that it should. But there were things about that whole encounter that the gossips hadn’t known.

Well, one thing anyway.

But Garrett didn’t intend to share that with Sophie.

Grabbing the filled trash can, Garrett headed out. Part of him felt like a riled kid who hadn’t gotten his way and was now running away from home. But it was more than that. He wanted his privacy, didn’t want to have to face anyone new who would give him “poor pitiful Garrett” looks.

Sophie picked up some of the books on his desk and followed him out. Maybe to resume a chat he in no way wanted to resume. In fact, right now he needed to focus on work, and that meant contacting the work crew and rescheduling. Contacting Clay, as well, to find out if he had a timeline for this investigation. Also calling the cattle broker to postpone delivery of the Angus he’d bought.

He encountered no widows along the way, but as soon as Garrett made it to the backyard, he spotted Kaylee. Hard to miss her since she was right there just a few inches from the steps, and she was holding a cicada shell in her hand.

“Boog,” she announced. Clearly, she wasn’t a squeamish kid since the shells always looked a little creepy to Garrett. “Mama twit puking.”

“That’s good.” He heard himself say the words, but it didn’t actually register in his head. But what did register were some bad flashbacks. Bad because they were good. Memories of Meredith being pregnant. Of the ultrasound where he’d first seen his daughter.

Oh, man.

It felt like a punch to the gut, and Garrett had to get out of there. He needed to get behind a closed door so he could stuff all of these emotions back down. No way could he deal with this now. Maybe not ever.

He hurried past Kaylee only to encounter another obstacle. Nicky. She was lugging a suitcase that she’d apparently just taken from her SUV.

“Sorry if Kaylee was bothering you,” Nicky said, and it seemed as if she was about to walk right past him. But then she stopped, maybe because he looked as unsteady as he suddenly felt. “Are you, uh, going to throw up or something?”

Hell. He must have looked really bad. So bad that Sophie took the trash can from him. “I’ll put this stuff in the guesthouse,” his sister offered. She headed that direction, glancing back as if waiting for him to follow. And he would have, but Nicky stepped in front of him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Nicky pressed.

“Fine. I’m just busy. How about you? Kaylee said you quit puking.”

She nodded, mumbled something under her breath that he didn’t catch. What she didn’t seem to realize was the effect her daughter was having on him. Thankfully, Kaylee hurried into the house, babbling something about showing off the boog. Too bad Nicky didn’t go with her.

“Yes, the puking seems to have run its course,” she explained. “I told you I didn’t have the stomach for bones, blood and such. Not for puke itself, either, which was why it went on for a while.” Nicky paused, took in a weary breath. “Look, I know we got off to a bad start, but I’m asking you not to fight the lease.”

Even though it was hard to think, Garrett forced away the flashbacks. He managed it, sort of, and came up with one argument he hadn’t given her yet.

“You really want to live in a house where someone died?” he asked.

Nicky shrugged. “Your great-grandfather died there. So did his wife.” She looked reasonably strong about that until she shuddered. “But yes, this does creep me out. It’s one thing to have your great-grandparents die there, but this guy might have been murdered. In boxers with hearts on them.”

Yeah. That’d been disturbing to Garrett, too. “Underpants like that suggest a lover’s tryst.”

She made a sound of agreement. “Or maybe he had bad taste in boxers. Or he could have just run out of clean undies and those were his last option.” She stopped. “But you’re right. It feels tryst-y. Which, according to Loretta, points to your Aunt Matilda.”

“Loretta told you about her?”

She nodded. “While I was puking. It’s possible I missed a word or two of what she was saying, but I caught the gist. Your aunt had h-o-t p-a-n-t-s, and I don’t think Loretta meant they were really short shorts.”

“No,” he had to agree. Even though Garrett had never met his great-aunt, it was unsettling to think she could have killed a man. That “unsettling” wasn’t limited to just her though. “I’m holding out that the guy died of natural causes.”

Nicky smiled. “And here I didn’t think you were a rose-colored-glasses kind of guy.”

Her smile quickly faded. Probably because she remembered there wasn’t much to be happy about. But while it lasted, he got a glimpse of the cute flute player she’d once been. In those days, she’d been a looker. Still was. And Garrett hated to notice that the years had settled nicely on her.

It was definitely time for him to get the heck away from her.

He stepped around her to do just that, but Nicky blocked his path again. “Please don’t fight the lease,” she repeated. “I sold my house to pay for the rent and expenses on this place.”

“You sold your house?” he questioned.

She nodded. “It really wasn’t a home where I wanted to stay. I’d planned on selling it anyway, but I need to give this a try first. I made a promise to these women that they’d have a retreat here on the ranch. I just hadn’t counted on the retreat coming with so many...obstacles.”

She looked him straight in the eye when she spoke that last word. Yes, he was an obstacle to her, but he wasn’t the only one.

“You should know that my mom is playing matchmaker,” he informed her. “That’s the real reason she agreed to lease the place to you.”

Nicky didn’t hesitate in nodding. “I know. That’s also why she hired me to do some legal work for her.”

Garrett frowned. Again, this was news to him. And confusing since they already had a family lawyer. “What kind of legal work?

“She’s redoing her will. Not a standard will, either. It’s complete with elaborate funeral details and her obituary. She says it’ll take weeks, maybe even months to finalize.”

Yeah, definitely matchmaking. He could add another chat with his mom to his to-do list. He had to nip this in the bud before it bit him in the ass. He didn’t want his mother throwing him together with Nicky—and Kaylee.

Nicky lifted the suitcase onto the bottom step, and Garrett didn’t miss the slight grunting sound she made. The grunt got louder when she hoisted it to the next step. With eight more steps to go, she was going to give herself a hernia before she made it to the back door.

Of course, he helped by carrying it up all the steps and onto the porch. Thankfully, the suitcase had wheels so she shouldn’t have any trouble getting it inside. After that, though, she was on her own.

“You’re leaving?” she asked, tipping her head at the clothes he had draped over his arm.

“Moving to the guesthouse. I figure the house will get pretty crowded what with Mom, our housekeeper, a toddler and six widows.”

Nicky got a strange look. A cross between “deer in the headlights” and “oh, crap.”

“About that...” she said.

But that was all she managed before he heard sounds he darn sure didn’t want to hear. Car engines. And they were all converging on the house like some kind of funeral procession. Garrett watched as they drove in one by one, and they just seemed to keep on coming. Trucks, cars and SUVs. Someone even drove up on a motorcycle.

“About that,” Nicky repeated. She opened the back door, pushed in her suitcase. “There are more than six of us.” And she ducked inside.

For a few seconds Garrett was stunned into silence. “How many more?”

“Twelve. Maybe thirteen. Fourteen, tops.” Nicky walked away, repeating the biggest lie of all. “You’ll never even notice we’re here.”


CHAPTER FIVE (#uae2c159f-6e9b-5cff-a007-ef738a91a632)

IT WAS LIKE a metaphorical intestinal disorder. The widows just kept coming.

When Nicky had first thought of this idea, she’d envisioned a The World According to Garp type of haven for women like her who needed mending. Peace, quiet, space. She had none of those things. And even in a house as big as the Grangers’, it was hard to find a place where she could go and silently scream.

Like now, for instance.

“Two bathroom toilets are clogged,” Loretta reported, reading from a list like the town crier. The woman had a canvas bag filled with heaven knew what looped over her wrist and a small box tucked beneath her arm. “And the Ellery sisters and Lizzie bought the wrong kind of groceries. Did you know they were all vegan when you sent them to the store?”

No idea, but Nicky did have an idea that someone, probably her, would be making another grocery run first thing in the morning. Not that she had time. Apparently, she had toilets to unclog, room assignments to finish not just for here but for the Widows’ House once they had the all-clear to return. She also no doubt needed to smooth things over with the housekeeper, Alice, because someone had almost certainly managed to piss her off by now.

“Lizzie’s little boy, Liam, was running through the house, playing ninja, and he broke some stuff,” Loretta continued.

That didn’t surprise Nicky. She’d only caught glimpses of the four-year-old, but Liam always seemed to be running. Lizzie needed to try to get him under control or there were going to be even more problems. “Keep a list of the broken items, and I’ll replace them,” Nicky said.

The only bright spot in this day was that Kaylee was napping and hadn’t wandered off to pester Garrett. But even that silver lining was tarnished. Since it was 6:00 p.m., it was too late for a nap and too early for her normal bedtime, which meant she’d be up half the night. That meant no sleep for Nicky at a time when she desperately needed it.

No one would certainly accuse Nicky of wearing rose-colored glasses right now.

It didn’t help that she was in Garrett’s office. Even though he wasn’t there, she was still surrounded by his things and could almost feel those things scowling at her. Kaylee hadn’t seemed to mind, and that’s why she’d fallen asleep on the small sofa beneath the window.

“Ruby Billings,” Loretta went on. “Suicide,” she added in a whisper to indicate that it was what had made Ruby a widow. “She’s already complaining about her roommate.”

Nicky checked her list. There were five available bedrooms and a family room with a pullout sofa, which meant people had to triple up in some cases. In Ruby’s case, she was sharing with D. M. Arnison—surgical complications—who’d arrived on a Harley. Nicky didn’t know D.M. that well, but the woman did have Tourette’s which caused her to let curse words fly without warning. That might offend some of the other widows, but someone had to room with her. And it wasn’t as if the woman could help what came out of her mouth.

“Ruby wants you to check with Mrs. Granger to see if we can use her kids’ rooms,” Loretta added. “Since they’re not using them and all.”

Nicky was shaking her head before Loretta even finished. “No. We’ve disrupted the family enough, and those are their own personal spaces.”

Something she didn’t have at the moment, but she would hold her ground on this. They would make do with the six rooms they had. Even if they had to cram sixteen widows and two children into them.

Nicky checked her bed assignment list again and grabbed a pencil to make the changes. She’d given up using a pen because the change requests were coming in on an hourly basis.

“Put Ruby in with Lizzie and her son,” Nicky instructed. “Ask D.M. if we can move a cot for her in the big bedroom with the Ellery sisters. The sisters have said they’ll share the king-size bed that’s in there. If that doesn’t meet their approval, then I’ll start calling hotels.”

It was something Belle had insisted she not do, but Garrett’s mom maybe hadn’t realized the logistical and plumbing issues involved with having eighteen houseguests.

She gave Loretta the revised list, and Loretta handed Nicky the list of things yet to be done. Some needed help getting luggage upstairs, dinner had to be fixed, and there’d be cleaning up after that.

“You’re not on the bedroom list,” Loretta pointed out.

“Kaylee and I will sleep in here. Garrett moved his office to the guesthouse.”

Loretta eyed the sofa, which was smaller than a twin bed, and there wasn’t exactly a lot of floor space, either. It didn’t matter. As exhausted as Nicky was, she could sleep on the desk. But exhaustion would have to wait.

“Oh, and this came for you,” Loretta said just as she was about to leave. She took the box from beneath her arm and gave it to Nicky.

There was a white satin ribbon wrapped around it, making it look like some kind of gift. But Nicky instantly got a bad feeling about it. “I’ll open it later,” she told Loretta, mainly to get the woman moving.

Loretta did, but only after Nicky started mumbling to herself as she looked over the new to-do list. The moment Loretta was gone, however, Nicky slipped off the ribbon, lifted the lid a fraction and looked inside.

Oh, God.

Two yellow roses.

Her stomach went into a spin, and for a couple of seconds, it felt as if someone had sucked all the air from the planet. But the oxygen was there, and Nicky took several deep breaths, hoping they would steady her. That was asking a lot of mere air, but it helped some. It helped even more when she tossed the box in the trash bag that she’d been using as a garbage can.

The roses were nothing, she reminded herself.

Nothing.

It took a couple more repeats of that mantra, more deep breaths, too, but Nicky finally gathered some composure. She didn’t have time for games like this.

She glanced at Kaylee to make sure she was still asleep and then went in search of a plunger. She only got a few steps before she saw a familiar face headed her way. Gina Simpson, car accident. But this was one additional widow Nicky actually wanted to see. Gina was not only Kaylee’s nanny, but she was also Nicky’s best friend.

“There’s a really hot cowboy unclogging a toilet.” Gina hitched her thumb in the direction of the other side of the house. “Never thought of that as hot, but he managed to make it look spellbinding. He’s got an audience, too. I think a couple of the women are hoping for a butt-crack showing.”

With that, Gina pulled Nicky into her arms for a too-hard hug. Gina was built like an Amazon warrior and sort of resembled one, too, with that untamed mop of brunette hair and six-foot body. The tattoos helped with that image. She had one on her arm, another on her ankle, and a gold nose ring that always seemed to catch the light just right.

“What’s wrong?” Gina said after looking at Nicky’s eyes.

Nicky dismissed her worry with a wave of her hand. “Just tired, that’s all.” And to get them on a different subject, she added, “Who’s the toilet-cleaning cowboy?” Because she couldn’t imagine Garrett volunteering for that. Of course, she couldn’t see him refusing to do it, either. Beneath all that growl and hiss, she suspected he was a nice guy. He just hadn’t been a nice guy with her.

“Lawson Granger,” Gina provided. “A brother?”

“Cousin. Garrett’s brother doesn’t live here at the ranch.” Actually, Lawson didn’t, either. He had a place in town.

“I got your messages about the dead body and the change of location.” Gina glanced into the office, smiled when she spotted Kaylee. “Thought you could use some help so I picked up fried chicken and pizza. It’s on the counter in the kitchen. Oh, and I hauled my camper trailer here. Figured you could use the extra space. It only has one bed, but I can double up.”

Nicky could have kissed her. And she did. She kissed Gina’s cheek. “Sometimes, I think you have ESP.”

“Oh, I do.” She winked, but it wasn’t exactly a joke.

Gina did have a knack for anticipating problems, which made her an excellent nanny. It also made her a little creepy sometimes, and it was impossible to keep a secret from her. Not from others, though, thank goodness. And Nicky had some she wanted to keep secret. A couple of them she was trying to forget, two that could further complicate what she was trying to do here in Wrangler’s Creek.

And one that could destroy her.

Gina leaned in. “So, how’s it going with the ex-lover boy? Is he helping the women get settled in?”

Nicky was thankful for the question. It got her mind off those secrets, even though the new topic wasn’t an especially happy one. “No. He’s probably staying as far away as possible.” Nicky sighed. “I told him he wouldn’t notice we were here, but he definitely noticed.”

“Poor baby.” There was plenty enough sarcasm in Gina’s voice. “Serves him right after the way he treated you. A teenage girl’s heart is a fragile thing, and breaking it requires some getting even.”

Nicky sighed again, something she’d likely be doing a lot. In hindsight, it hadn’t been a good idea to tell Gina about the deflowering/breakup incident with Garrett. But there’d been margaritas involved, and Nicky usually got blabbery after a couple of those. Of course, Gina had taken her side on this. That’s what friends did, but now that Garrett and Gina would be in each other’s company, Nicky hoped her friend didn’t dig up those old bones with Garrett.

“I think I made a mistake, trying to put all of this together,” Nicky confessed.

She’d wanted a place of respite for women who’d lost their partners. Women who were trying to piece their lives back together. Something Nicky had been trying to do since her husband had died almost eighteen months earlier. Of course, her piecing together wasn’t solely from grief. She’d had plenty of other things to deal with because of Patrick. By giving back to the women, Nicky had hoped she would work things out for herself, too.

“The Widows’ House looked good on paper, but maybe I need to throw in the towel.”

Gina dismissed that with a pshaw. Whatever that meant. “You’re just tired and maybe still a little queasy. Did you throw up when you saw the dead body?”

Nicky nodded. “Three times. But it’s more than the dead body.” Something she thought she’d never hear herself say. “It’s, well, being here around Garrett. I didn’t think it would bother me this much.”

“Again, that’s fatigue.” Gina shrugged. “And maybe leftover lust,” she added in a whisper. “If he looks anything like his cousin, then he’s lust-worthy. But you also know lust leads to crushed hearts.”

Yes, she did know that. But knowing it didn’t make her feel any better. She needed to heal, and it was best not to get broken again while she was trying to do that.

Gina put her arm around her. “Tell you what. Let’s wake up Kaylee, get some pizza in both of you and then Kaylee can sleep with me in the camper. That’ll give you that itty bitty sofa all to yourself.” She paused. “That is where you planned to sleep, right?”

“Yes.” And that wasn’t exactly ESP on Gina’s part. Gina just knew her well enough to know that Nicky wouldn’t take one of the beds. Not when she felt personally responsible for this situation.

“Let me get that doll baby.” Gina hurried in to scoop up Kaylee. The little girl protested, whined, yawned and then smiled when she saw Gina. Lots of hugs ensued as if they hadn’t seen each other for days instead of just hours.

Nicky followed Gina and Kaylee to the kitchen, but before she made it there, her phone dinged with a text message.

Call me soon, the text read, and it wasn’t from just any ol’ somebody.

It was from Meredith, Garrett’s ex-wife.

Nicky frowned. Then frowned some more. Meredith could be another complication that she didn’t need, but sooner or later she was going to have to call the woman back. And tell Garrett all about this.

After another frown and sigh, Nicky opted for later.

* * *

GARRETT HAD FIGURED since it was four in the morning that there’d be no one in the house up and about. He’d figured wrong.

Mrs. Batson, heart attack, was on the back porch steps, and she was smoking a cigarette. She quickly snuffed it out, and as she’d done at Z.T.’s place, she skittered back inside. Well, at least she hadn’t gotten in his way.

Garrett slipped inside, glancing around the kitchen. No one. But there were some pizza boxes on the counter so he helped himself to a cold slice and a Coke before he went up the hall toward his office.

He passed the family room along the way and spotted two women on the sleeper sofa. Heaven knew how many of them were scattered throughout the house by now. Or how long they would be there. But in a couple of hours he could start bugging Clay about getting Z.T.’s place cleared so the women could return to it. It had only been a day since they’d discovered the body, but maybe Clay could work extra fast on this.

By the time Garrett got to his office, he’d nearly finished the pizza, but he clamped the remainder between his teeth so he’d have a free hand to grab some files from his desk drawer. He opened the door.

And froze.

There was enough moonlight coming through the window that he had no trouble seeing the woman lying on his desk. She was curled up in a fetal position and was using a book for a pillow.

What the hell?

It was Nicky.

She lifted her head. In the same motion, she gasped, grabbed a pen and jabbed it at him the way a person would wield a knife. She missed, but a strange garbled sound left her mouth. Maybe trying to choke back a scream.

“Garrett?” Nicky said on a rise of breath. “You scared the bejeebers out of me.”

He didn’t know what a bejeebers was, but she’d given him a scare of sorts, too, because he sure as hell hadn’t expected anyone to be sleeping in his office, let alone on his desk.

“Sorry,” she added. “I’m still on edge.” No doubt because of the body that’d been found.

Groaning and wincing, Nicky climbed off the desk, got to her feet and turned on the reading light. Her gaze met his, and she looked at him funny. Only then did he remember he had what was left of a pizza slice sticking out of his mouth.

Garrett yanked away the pizza so he could talk. “Why are you on my desk?”

“Because the sofa was too small, and I kept falling off.” She made it seem as if that answered his question. It didn’t.

“There wasn’t a bed?” he pressed.

She shook her head and pushed her hands through her hair to move it off her face. He’d seen her face before, of course. Had seen most of her entire body actually. But there was something, well, intimate about having a sleepy-eyed woman just a few inches away.

One who smelled like sex.

That was probably his imagination though.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“I need some files.” And he went to his desk drawer to get those. To do that, he had to walk right past her, and that’s when he noticed what she was wearing. Pj’s. Specifically, his pj’s.

“Oh,” Nicky said, following his gaze. “My luggage seems to have gotten lost in the shuffle. I didn’t have any clean clothes, and your mom checked Sophie’s room for some, but your sister’s already moved her things to Clay’s. She got these for me instead. She said you don’t ever use them, that you usually sleep in your boxers.”

Well, Nicky had gotten in his pants after all. Which was a stupid thought, of course. Something a teenage boy would think, but that seemed to be the way his mind was going right now. That meant it was time to get out of there.

Garrett finished off the last bite of pizza, grabbed the files and was ready to leave. But Nicky stopped him.

“Uh, can I ask you a question?” She didn’t wait for him to agree, though. “Are you and your ex-wife on good terms these days?”

Garrett was certain he looked surprised. Because he was. “No. We’re not on any kind of terms because I haven’t spoken to her in months.” And he’d like to keep it that way. “You know about the video that ended up all over the internet?”

Nicky nodded, glanced away. He’d been positive that she knew, and that was why her question was even more puzzling.

“Why would you want to know about my ex?” he asked.

She lifted her shoulder. “I was just wondering. I remember her from high school, of course. She moved to Wrangler’s Creek our senior year.”

This was still confusing. “But you weren’t friends. Were you?” Because if they were, this was the first he was hearing about it. Then again, that not hearing about things was going around.

“No,” she quickly agreed. “She knew about what had happened between us and didn’t especially want me around. Over the years though, I’ve run into her from time to time, and she’s been friendly enough.”

Again, first time hearing this. Meredith had certainly never mentioned it.

“Anyway,” Nicky went on, “no one around here has said anything about Meredith, and I didn’t know if you’d been able to work past what’d happened or not.”

He hadn’t worked past it, but there was no way he’d tell Nicky that. He was about to press her again as to why she had a sudden interest in his ex, but maybe this was part of some kind of therapy. A shared experience sort of thing. Except there was really nothing to share. Meredith was alive, and Nicky’s husband wasn’t.

Her husband, Patrick.

Yeah, he’d looked it up on the internet. There hadn’t been an obituary, but there’d been a mention of him on social media from someone he’d done business with. It was one of those requests for prayers and hugs.

According to what Garrett could glean from that, Patrick had been a lawyer at the same firm where Nicky worked. He’d died from cancer and been gone almost eighteen months now. Not an eternity, but maybe the pain wasn’t still as fresh and raw for Nicky. Of course, the flipside to that was Kaylee had been so young that she wouldn’t even remember her father. That had to be eating away at Nicky, too.

Garrett knew plenty about grief. It was a hungry bitch. And if he could figure out a way to beat it, he would have already done it.

“I’m sorry,” Garrett said before he even knew he was going to say it.

She nodded but seemed ready to ask him to explain that. If she hadn’t also looked like sex, he might have hung around and added more. He headed out, but he nearly smacked right into Loretta.

“Good morning, Garrett,” she said. “It’s so good to see you again.”

Loretta didn’t look anything like sex, but she did seem wide awake. Awake, smiling and also wearing his pj’s.

“Loretta’s luggage got misplaced, too,” Nicky volunteered.

Well, at least he wouldn’t encounter anyone else wearing his limited nightwear because he had only two sets of pajamas.

Garrett mumbled a “good morning” and hurried out. Staying longer and looking at Nicky would only cause this tug in his belly to tug even harder. He wasn’t overly concerned about belly tugs per se, but if that tug lowered to that idiot part of him behind his zipper, he’d be in big trouble.


CHAPTER SIX (#uae2c159f-6e9b-5cff-a007-ef738a91a632)

NICKY WAITED ON hold for Clay McKinnon while she watched out the window. Kaylee and Gina were in the backyard, playing fetch with a golden retriever, and Kaylee was having a blast. Nicky couldn’t say the same for herself, though. That’s because her daughter and Gina weren’t the only ones in her line of sight.

So was Garrett.

He was in the barn about twenty yards away, and while he wasn’t exactly nearby, Garrett had a way of grabbing her attention.

Damn him.

He was wearing those snug jeans again and looking very much like the hot cowboy he was. A cowboy in charge since he seemed to be doling out orders to several of the hands. Judging from their body language, they were listening but weren’t liking what they were hearing.

Nicky had wanted these old feelings to be gone by now, but instead they’d morphed into adult feelings. Specifically, feelings where she had no trouble noticing how attractive he was.

Would she never learn?

Apparently not. Two heart stompings weren’t enough to teach her a lesson, and she wasn’t sure she could survive a third one.

“You still there, Mrs. Marlow?” Chief Clay McKinnon asked when he finally came on the line.

“Nicky,” she automatically corrected. “I’m here. I hate to bother you because you must be busy, but I just wanted to know if there were any updates on the body?”

Just saying the word body tightened her stomach, and Nicky hoped she wouldn’t feel the need to vomit again. While she was hoping, she added that maybe she could get those images out of her head. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the skeleton. She hoped those images went away soon since she still had plans to live in that house for the next year.

“The remains have been moved to the county morgue,” Clay explained, “and the CSIs will start going through the place this morning. I don’t expect them to find much, not after all this time, but you never know.”

Nicky glanced out the window again to check on Kaylee. She was no longer playing with the dog but rather was running toward Garrett. That nearly sent Nicky bolting after her because she didn’t want Kaylee to bother Garrett, but Gina was on her heels.

“As for the identity of the John Doe,” Clay went on, “he didn’t have any ID on him, and there weren’t any clothes in the immediate area that could have belonged to him. The CSIs will look upstairs, though. Did you happen to come across any men’s clothes when you were cleaning?”

“There are some in a few of the dressers and trunks, but I doubt he undressed and put his things away.”

“No. Unless he was staying there. That’s possible, of course, but it’s more likely that someone moved the clothes.”

She was glad he didn’t spell that out for her, but Nicky’s mind began to race with some really bad ideas. Like maybe the clothes had been blood-soaked or had bullet holes in them.

“If there’s no ID and you can’t get his prints, how will you figure out who he is?” she asked.

“I might not. That’s the way these things turn out sometimes. Of course, I’ll keep looking through the missing person’s database. The Ranger lab might be able to do facial reconstruction, too. Until then, I’ll keep following what little evidence I have. The guy didn’t have any unusual dental work, metal plates or prosthetics, but he was wearing a wedding band.”

That got her attention. She certainly hadn’t noticed a ring when she’d seen the body, but then she hadn’t lingered around for a long look. “He was married,” she mumbled.

“Sure looks that way. The band was yellow gold,” Clay continued. “And it had the words forever wrapped around you engraved inside it.”

Nicky felt her heart flutter. Not in a good way, either. Because those were lovers’ words. Unless it referred literally to the ring, that is. But she doubted it. No, this was likely a declaration of love.

“He was really married,” she repeated. Nicky hadn’t meant for there to be that much emotion in her voice. Emotion that Clay must have noticed.

“Are you okay?” Clay asked.

She quickly tried to regain her composure. Also quickly tried to figure out how to get this conversation back on track. A track that didn’t include transferring her own feelings onto this situation. “I’m fine. I was thinking, though, that his being married could be a motive for murder, right?”

“Could be. Maybe a jealous wife. Maybe a lover who got fed up waiting for him to get a divorce. I’m interviewing some folks today who knew Matilda. That doesn’t mean she had anything to do with this. Won’t know that until the ME can come up with a time of death.”

Yes, that would certainly help narrow down the list of people who might have had something to do with this. Unless the John Doe was just some trespasser. One who’d gone into the house, stripped off most his clothes and gone into a closet to die.

“By the way, I just told Garrett all of this,” Clay added. “He’s not giving you any updates?”

Nicky hesitated. “No.”

Even though it was only a one-word response, the chief must have filled in the blanks. “He’s still not too happy about you and the other widows being there.”

Bingo. “There are a lot of us.”

“Well, don’t take it personally. Garrett just has a lot on his mind these days. Plus, he might be having flashbacks when he sees your daughter.”

“Flashbacks?” she blurted out.

Silence. Followed by some mumbled profanity. “I’ve said too much. I’ll call you if I get any other information on the case. Oh, and first chance you get, I need you to drop by my office and sign the report on the dead guy. Loretta’s already come in, but I’ll need you to, as well.” And before Nicky could say anything else, Clay hung up.

She stared at the phone and glanced outside again. Gina was obviously trying to coax Kaylee away from Garrett, but her daughter had something in her hand that she was showing him. Nicky saw it then. The look on his face, the need to detach from this situation. Did that have something to do with the flashbacks the chief had just mentioned? If Clay hadn’t added her daughter to that slipped remark, Nicky might have thought this had something to do with Meredith’s sex tape, but it had to be more than that.

Nicky scrolled through her recent calls and texts. Two missed calls and three unanswered texts from Meredith. Maybe it was time to quit skirting around the woman, especially since Meredith might know what was going on. Nicky didn’t feel especially good about contacting the woman simply to pump her for information, but she wanted the big picture of what she was up against here. If her being here was causing Garrett real mental anguish, then she needed to find a way to get all the widows, herself included, out of there ASAP.

She made another check out the window first. Gina had Kaylee by the hand and was leading her back toward the house. Garrett was still there. Not alone, though. One of the women was talking to him.

Lady Romero, the prescription drug overdose widow, who owned a tow truck business. One that specialized in tacky slogans.

Lady was young, beautiful and, on the surface, didn’t seem to be mourning as much as her fellow widows. In fact, at the moment she didn’t seem to be mourning at all. She was smiling and touching the front of Garrett’s shirt, and even though Nicky couldn’t actually see the woman’s face, she thought maybe some eyelash batting was going on.

Oh, well. Garrett was a big boy and could take care of himself. He definitely didn’t need her to come to the rescue.

Meredith answered on the first ring, and she obviously knew who was calling. “Nicky, thank God. I’ve been trying to reach you.”

“Sorry, I’ve been really busy—”

“Yes, I heard about the dead man in Z.T.’s house,” Meredith continued. Which was probably a good thing because that prevented Nicky from whining about everything that’d gone on. “You must have been terrified.”

“More shocked than anything else—”

“I would have screamed my head off.” Again, the interruption was good because Meredith didn’t need to hear about her dignity-reducing stomach issues. “It’s awful, just awful. Does this mean you won’t be opening the Widows’ House?”

“I’m still waiting to hear what the police chief has to say, but I think the widows and I will be able to move in soon. Why—?”

“Clay,” Meredith said. “He’s the police chief, and he’s engaged to Sophie. You remember her, right? Yes, I’m sure you do even though she was four years younger than us. I always felt as if Sophie was more like a sister to me than a sister-in-law.”

This time the interruption wasn’t so welcome because Nicky had been about to ask her the critical question—what the heck was going on with Garrett?

But Meredith remedied that when she continued. “Have you talked to Garrett since you’ve been at the ranch?”

“A couple of times. Not for long, though. He was at the house when one of the widows found the body.”

“Loretta,” Meredith provided. “When you didn’t answer my call or texts, I phoned one of the Ellery sisters, and she filled me in. Poor Loretta. Poor you! My God, your daughter didn’t see that, did she?”

“No.”

And this conversation was sounding a little too friendly for Nicky. Not that she minded friendliness, but it felt strange coming from Meredith. Over the past seventeen years, they’d seen each other three times. Once at a fund-raiser. Then a second time when Nicky had run into Meredith in a restaurant. That’s why it’d surprised her when Meredith had shown up at the widow’s support group.

It surprised Nicky even more, though, when she’d found out what Meredith had wanted.

The woman made a sound of relief over Kaylee not seeing the body, and this time it was Nicky who interrupted her. “Look, Meredith, I’ve considered what we talked about at the support group meeting, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay at the Widows’ House.”

Silence. For a long time. “I see.” More silence. “I know I’m a divorcée and not a widow, but I can promise you I need the therapy and quiet time as much as the rest of you. I’ve been through a lot, Nicky.”

She didn’t doubt that, and Nicky wasn’t immune to the emotion she heard in Meredith’s voice. A nasty divorce was a nasty thing. But Nicky also knew Meredith had brought some of that nastiness on herself. Unless...

Nicky went back to what Clay had said about the flashbacks.

She hadn’t exactly spent much time combing the internet for info about Garrett and Meredith. A friend had sent her the sex video, and Nicky had read some articles about the troubles with the Granger family business. Trouble that had now been resolved, apparently, but she’d purposely avoided anything personal. Maybe that had been a mistake.

“Do you think Garrett will have any trouble being around Kaylee?” Nicky came out and asked. It was an out-and-out fishing expedition, and she didn’t expect much. She got plenty though.

“Maybe,” Meredith said right off. But like before, she paused. “Garrett hasn’t said anything about our daughter?”

Daughter? “Uh, no.”

“Well, he probably won’t. We lost her, you see. Stillborn. And Garrett was never the same after that. Neither was I,” she admitted, and Nicky thought the woman might be crying or close to it. “Anyway, Kaylee and our little girl would have been about the same age.”

Mercy. Yes, that definitely explained the flashback comment. “I’m so sorry,” Nicky said.

“Now you know why I need to be at the Widows’ House. I’ve always loved Z.T.’s old place. Always felt a peace and calm there, and I’m hoping it’ll help. I need to heal. I need to get better.”

Crud. How was she supposed to say no to that? And she was about to give in. Then, she remembered Garrett and knew this would be just another thorn in his side.

“I’ll get back to you,” she told Meredith, and Nicky ended the call before the woman could launch into another tear-filled argument. One that Meredith would almost certainly win this time.

Nicky groaned and put away her phone. Her quest for peace and healing was turning into a huge poop pile. And now she needed to sign that report for Clay. Which meant she’d have to read all about the dead man. Hopefully there wouldn’t be any photos of the body to accompany the report.

She stood, checked on Garrett again. Frowned again. Lady had leaned in even closer. Garrett wasn’t leaning, though. He glanced at the office window and met Nicky’s gaze. He shot her a glare, and that was her cue to get out there and rescue him from Lady. And no, it didn’t have anything to do with Nicky being jealous. She just wanted to minimize the crud that Garrett was having to face because they were all there.

Nicky grabbed her purse and was on the way out the door when she heard the footsteps, and she hoped this wasn’t another widow in search of sanctuary. If so, she’d have to turn her away. She looked in the hall to do just that. But it wasn’t a widow. Heck, it wasn’t even a woman.

It was Roman.

He came toward her, several widows trailing behind him. Not showing him the way obviously. Because he knew the way in his own home. No, she recognized the signs. They were starstruck or rather Roman-struck as she used to call it. He definitely had that effect on most women. Not her, though. Nicky had never had a thing for bad boys, and Roman was very, very bad.

“Nicky,” Roman greeted. As greetings went, it wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy. “I’ve come here to evict you.”


CHAPTER SEVEN (#uae2c159f-6e9b-5cff-a007-ef738a91a632)

NICKY DRAGGED IN a long breath, one that she was certain she would need for the argument she was about to have with Roman. Obviously, his brother had gotten to him and convinced Roman to oust them. For a moment Nicky considered letting him do just that with no argument whatsoever from her, but then she remembered there were actually women who needed the Widows’ House.

Including her.

“Roman, please, don’t kick us off the ranch.” Nicky figured she was going to have to say a lot more than that to convince him.

He shrugged. “Okay.”

Nicky took another long breath, but that’s because she was confused. The confusion didn’t clear up any when Roman took some keys from his pocket and dangled them in front of her.

“A friend lent me his RV.” He took her hand, put the keys in her palm. “It sleeps six so that means you won’t have to spend the night on Garrett’s desk again. I’ve also told Mom to put someone in my old room. Sophie insists someone use hers, too. That’ll mean fewer women will have to double and triple up. But the RV is for you. Consider that my version of an eviction.”

She hadn’t intended to kiss him but Nicky did. The kiss was purely chaste and on his cheek, but one of the gawking widows sighed.

“Thank you,” she whispered to him. “But how’d you know I’d slept on his desk?”

“I got it from the horse’s mouth when he called me about some ranching business. At least he said it was ranching business, but really Garrett just wanted to vent.”

Of course, he did. She would vent if everyone else weren’t doing the same thing. In fact, this had turned into a vent-a-thon where all the complaints were becoming white noise.

“I swear, we’ll clear out of here as soon as I can manage it,” Nicky assured him.

He shrugged again in that lazy way that most mortal men couldn’t have managed. “My brother’s going through some stuff.”

That was a nice way of saying Garrett’s life had taken a nosedive. “I knew about some of it,” she said. “But if I’d had the big picture, I would have just bitten the bullet and sent all the widows away.”

“Big picture?” he repeated. “You mean his baby?”

She nodded. “I only just found out about it. He must think about her every time he looks at my little girl.”

“He thinks about her even when your daughter’s not here. Nothing you can do about that. Nothing any of us can do,” he added in a mumble. Roman tipped his head to the purse she’d looped over her shoulder. “Going somewhere?”

“Clay’s office to sign a report.” She followed his gaze to the window where he’d spotted Garrett and Lady. “But I can stay if you want to catch up.”

“No. I should see Garrett.” He checked his watch. “I’ll wait, though, about twenty or thirty minutes. I enjoy seeing him sweat a little.”

Nicky had another look at Garrett, too. “Maybe he’s not sweating. He could be interested in her.”

Roman responded with a sound that could have meant anything.

At that exact moment, Garrett shot her another glare, and he must have also spotted Roman because he said something to Lady and started for the house. That was Nicky’s cue to leave. She said goodbye to Roman, goodbye, too, to the trail of widows gawking at him.

Nicky made a quick call to Gina to let her know that she’d be gone for a while, and she headed out the front door. Her SUV was actually parked in the back, but this way she could avoid Garrett. Thankfully, she avoided not only him but anyone else who might have stopped her along the way.

She got in her SUV, letting the quiet wash over her. Ironic that this was the most peace she’d found in the past twenty-four hours. Too bad it would have to end with that report.

The drive to town was a blast from the past. She’d done this trip many times, first on her bike and then in the run-down Toyota she’d managed to afford by working summers and weekends at the grocery store. There’d been no real reason for her to make the drive since the Granger Ranch wasn’t on the way to anything. It was just something she’d done, all the while thinking about how it would feel to be normal like the Grangers.

She passed Clay’s house and then Vita Banchini’s, the oddball fortune-teller who sometimes put curses on people. Vita definitely fell outside the normal range.

And, of course, Nicky saw the old house where she’d been raised.

It didn’t sit right on the road, but since there were no trees in front of it, it was impossible to miss. She slowed, not intending to stop but stopping anyway. Maybe this was a moth-to-a-flame kind of thing, but she also wondered if it was time to confront a demon or two.

The place was vacant and apparently had been for years. Her parents had once owned it and then lost it in foreclosure just a few weeks before her high school graduation. It hadn’t exactly felt like much of a loss at the time.

Still didn’t.

The Penningtons had bought the place from the bank after that and had used it as rental property. That probably hadn’t been a successful venture because Wrangler’s Creek didn’t have a big renters’ market, but she hadn’t been around to know for sure. In fact, she’d spent the next seven years of her life working her way through college and trying to forget this place ever existed.

In hindsight, that need to forget had been the reason she’d avoided any and all updates on the town and especially the Grangers. After what’d happened with Garrett, the memories had rolled together into one giant, smothering ball of hurt and misery. But all of that had happened seventeen years ago. A lifetime. Maybe it was lifetime enough for this place to have lost its hold over her.

She parked next to the yard that was more weeds than grass. There were no signs of her mother’s rosebushes and flowerbeds, and Nicky wondered if the weeds had claimed them or if someone had taken mercy on them and replanted them at a more hospitable place. She hoped it was the latter.

Something good had to have come out of here.

The screen door on the front was hanging on one hinge, and the July breeze caught it, causing it to make a creaking sound as it swayed. Definitely not welcoming, but she just kept on walking up the steps. Nicky only made it to the second of five steps before she had to stop. She couldn’t make her feet, or her mind, go any farther.

Even though she was still a good two yards away from the front door, she caught the scent of the place. She got an instant slam of dust, mustiness and other smells she didn’t want to identify.

She’d thought there couldn’t be a place grimier than Z.T.’s house, but Nicky had been wrong about that. From what she could see, there was plenty of dust here. Dead leaves and other debris, too. The paint on the walls was blistered and peeling. The wood floors, pocked with nicks and gouges. Nothing the way it had been when she’d lived here. She and her mother had at least kept the place clean.

But clean places sometimes held a dirty secret. This one certainly did.

The memories came. Not as some old, watery images that she couldn’t blink away, either. No. She wasn’t that lucky. These were crystal clear.

Memories of her father and his drunken rages.

Memories of him coming home from whatever job he hadn’t been fired from yet. Staggering through the door, his body slumped because he was too drunk to stand upright. It always put a knot in her gut to know that he’d driven home that way from some bar.

Grow a pair, Nicky!

He’d yelled it at her so many times that it was like a tattoo inked on her brain. He’d told her that anytime he was disappointed in her. Anytime she’d cried. Anytime things hadn’t gone his way.

Which was often.

She hadn’t even known what it meant until she was eleven or so and then had gotten a backhand across the face when she had tried to explain in earnest that she would never grow a pair of testicles. After that he’d amended it.

Grow a pair, you dumb bitch!

There had been no lamps in the house because he’d managed to break every one of them. Most of their dishes were plastic. Because when he was in a drunken rage, he liked to smash things.

It didn’t happen every night. In fact, sometimes he’d stay sober for months. Just long enough to lull her mother and her into thinking that the monster wouldn’t come back. But it did.

It always came back.

There were times, like now, when Nicky could feel his hand slap her face. Times when she could hear the slurred words that had made her feel broken. So broken that she might never fit together again.

Stupid. Bitch. Ugly. Whore.

He’d had other words for her mother, but those were the ones he saved just for her. They echoed through her head now. Through the house, too, and Nicky could have sworn she smelled the cheap whiskey on his breath. The old sweat he hadn’t bothered to wash off before he’d started his slide into the bottle.

His name had been Walt Levi Henderson. And he’d died of liver failure at the age of forty-three. But not before leaving his mark on her. Several of them in fact. Nicky had the scars he’d given her along with the one she’d given herself. The one when she’d used a razor to cut into her own breast.

Cutter was such an ugly word.

But it wasn’t as ugly as the word she’d cut into her skin.

That was another of her secrets. And it was a secret she could hide beneath her clothes.

Grow a pair, you dumb bitch!

She thought of her big brother. Kyle. He was five years older than she was and had run away when Nicky had only been twelve. Or rather ridden away on a motorcycle he’d built from spare parts he’d found in the junkyard. Sometimes, she’d resented him for leaving, for not trying to save her. But he’d been just a kid, as well, and he certainly hadn’t gotten out unscathed. No. Kyle had scars, too.

The tears came, and she cursed them. Damn him. Damn this. Obviously, she was nowhere close to chasing away the demons. In fact, it felt as if she’d just cut herself again. As if she’d ripped herself open to let those demons back inside her.

Grow a pair, you dumb bitch!

She whirled around, ready to bolt off the step, and landed right in Garrett’s arms.

Nicky heard the strangled sound make its way through her throat. It wasn’t a sound she wanted anyone to hear. Especially Garrett.

“You scared me,” she managed to say.

Nicky didn’t look at him. In fact, she looked everywhere else because she didn’t want him to see what was in her eyes. Not just the tears. But the broken pain.

He opened his mouth, and she braced herself for him to say something like I wasn’t the one who scared you. Or what the hell is going on?

But he didn’t.

Garrett closed his mouth, and she could almost sense him debating how to handle this. Her elusive gaze probably wasn’t fooling him, and he likely knew something was wrong. Hopefully, he also knew that saying anything about it would be opening a particularly nasty can of worms.

“I picked you up a couple of times here when we dated,” he finally said.

So, no worm-can-opening today. Good. Because Nicky thought that maybe talking about it would be the same skin-cutting experience as being inside the place. It’d been a mistake to come here, and like the other times she’d felt this way, she wanted to run. Not to just any ordinary place but to Z.T.’s old house.

Fifteen minutes. That’s all it would take her to run there if she cut through the old ranch trails and the pastures. Fifteen minutes before she could hide in a safe, quiet place with no drunk fathers calling her names.

Of course, she couldn’t go there. Not only because of the investigation but also because Garrett likely wouldn’t let her start running without expecting her to explain what the heck was going on.

“The dust got to me,” she lied, wiping her eyes. Nicky stepped around him and went into the yard. It helped. She could catch her breath, could try to tamp down all these stupid emotions.

She could leave.

And that’s what she started to do, but Garrett stepped in front of her, blocking her path. Judging from the look on his face, he was getting that opener ready for the worm can.

* * *

GARRETT WASN’T SURE that stopping Nicky was the smartest idea he’d ever had. It was obvious she didn’t want to talk about what was going on in her head. But that stark look in her eyes tugged at him.

Because he was likely the reason for it.

Not just his attitude about the lease but also their past. He couldn’t undo the past and couldn’t pretend to be happy about the lease so Garrett just chose another topic. One that might get her mind on something else. In turn that something else might get that look off her face.

“Why are you here anyway?” he asked.

“I was on my way into town to sign a report for Clay, and I couldn’t resist a trip down memory lane.”

He glanced around the place. “Sometimes memory lane is best forgotten.”

That got the reaction he wanted. She smiled. It didn’t last and probably wasn’t genuine, but he’d take it.

“Your folks moved right around the time you left to go to college,” he commented. “Where are they now? And what about your brother? Where did he end up?”

She glanced away again, and he wanted to curse himself for the nerve that he’d obviously hit. “Kyle’s in San Antonio. My mother moved to Virginia to be closer to her sister. And my dad passed away.” She paused only the span of a breath. “What about you? Why are you here?”

“I’m on my way to sign a report, too. If I’d known you had to come in, I could have given you a ride.” Man, she probably thought he had multiple personalities or something. One minute he was trying to give her the boot. The next, trying to give her a ride.

She shook her head. “I had some errands to do, too.”

He got the feeling that was a lie, but he didn’t call her on it. “How’d your visit with Roman go?”

“Great.” No smile, but she seemed relieved with not only the topic but the result. “He’s letting us stay in the house, and I’m sure you saw the RV he brought.”

Garrett nodded. He saw it and approved. Well, as much as he could approve of any of this. It would get Nicky off his desk.

“Should I ask why Roman doesn’t live at home?” she said.

“No.” He paused, looked away. Since that was rude, he felt the need to explain a little. “He owns a rodeo business in San Antonio and has a house there. But he also owns the Granger Ranch.”

“Yes. I heard your mom mention something about that last night. And she said your cousins still own all the land north of here and are trying to buy more. Pretty soon Wrangler’s Creek isn’t going to be big enough for the Grangers.”

It already wasn’t big enough. The only saving grace right now was that his cousins didn’t have a working ranch on their land. They had a large spread just one county over. That was in part why Lawson worked for him in Wrangler’s Creek. Also in part because there was some feuding going on between him and his brothers. A feud Garrett didn’t want to know anything about.

“How was your visit with Lady?” she asked.

Well, it hadn’t been great, as Nicky had no doubt witnessed from the window. “Lady doesn’t seem to be grief stricken.”

“How so?” But it was a question meant to poke fun at him. Because she knew that Lady had been all over him.

“As my mother would say, she wants to get in my pants. That won’t happen. So, I told her I wasn’t interested.” Of course, he’d had to say variations of that not interested several times before the woman got the message.

The silence came, and it wasn’t a good silence, either. It was the awkward kind so he stepped to the side in case she wanted to leave. She did. Nicky immediately headed for her SUV and got in. She couldn’t leave, though, because Garrett was parked behind her so he went to his truck and drove away. But not before giving the old house one last look.

What the hell had gone on here?

Because he was no longer certain that he was the one responsible for those tears he’d seen in Nicky’s eyes.

Garrett drove into town and parked in front of the Wrangler’s Creek Police Station. Nicky didn’t, though. She drove past him, no doubt to run those errands she’d mentioned. Probably to avoid him, as well. Since he’d been avoiding her, Garrett couldn’t fault her for that.

He went inside and made a beeline for Clay’s office at the back of the building. Not a long walk since, like everything else in the town of Wrangler’s Creek, it wasn’t that big. He found his soon-to-be brother-in-law seated at his desk.

“Anything new on the John Doe?” Garrett immediately asked him.

“Not really.” Clay stood, poured Garrett and himself some coffee. “It might be a week before the CSIs can go through the whole place. Did you know there were secret rooms?”

“Yeah. There’s one off the library. Another in the master bedroom.” Garrett was about to take a sip of the coffee, but he got a bad feeling. “Please don’t tell me you found another body.”

“No, but it just means there are more places the CSIs will have to examine and maybe process.”

“Process? You’re not talking about collecting fingerprints, DNA and things like that?” Garrett’s mind went straight to a bad place.

He’d obviously seen too many crime shows, and a little porn, because he thought of all the possible DNA in the place. His DNA and Nicky’s. Of course, it wasn’t as if everyone didn’t already know that Nicky and he had been together like that. Still, he doubted she would want that old water, old bridge brought up again.

“They’re looking for the John Doe’s clothes and anything else that will help us identify him,” Clay explained. He lifted his eyebrow as if he’d known what Garrett was thinking. “If he was murdered, the killer could have removed them. But if something else happened, the clothes might still be around.”

“Right. Of course.” And Garrett hated that he sounded relieved about it.

“They’ll collect DNA from the body. From his boxers, hat and wedding ring, as well. And his clothes, if they’re found. Here’s the report,” he added.

Clay slid it in front of Garrett, and Garrett sat down so he could look it over. Everything was there. Everything that they knew so far, that is.

“By the way, Nicky seemed upset when I mentioned the guy might be married,” Clay told him. “I think all of this might be getting to her.”

Clay seemed to be asking Garrett to check on her. Which he had when he’d seen her SUV parked at her old house. Judging from what he saw there, she might need to be checked on again. First though, he’d like to know what he was dealing with.

Garrett read through the report, signed it and passed it back to Clay. “You don’t happen to have any old files on Nicky’s folks, do you?”

Clay pulled back his shoulders. “Not that I know of. Why? You think they could be connected to our John Doe?”

“No. It’s not that.” But he couldn’t say what it was exactly. “It’s just I remember some rumors about her father getting drunk, maybe even arrested. And her brother, Kyle, ran off when he was just a teenager. I figure that couldn’t be a sign of a happy household for him to have done that.”

Clay stayed quiet a moment, but Garrett could almost hear the guy thinking. And he was thinking like a cop. “Are you looking for something to help you evict Nicky?”

“No.” Garrett huffed. The truth wasn’t going to make this sound any better, but he went with it anyway. “I just saw Nicky out at the old house her folks once owned, and it seemed as if she didn’t have good memories of the place.”

Nope, the truth didn’t sound better, and that’s probably why Clay gave him a cop’s stare. One where he was no doubt trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

“She was crying,” Garrett added.

That got rid of the cop stare and, cursing under his breath, Clay sank down into the chair behind his desk. “Am I going to need to be concerned that Nicky’s come back to dole out some kind of payback to her parents?”

Garrett had to answer no for a third time. “Her father’s dead, and her mother doesn’t live here so no payback. Could you please just check and see if her dad, Walt Henderson, had a police record? Since the guy’s dead, you wouldn’t be violating his privacy.”

Of course, Clay would probably be violating other things like rules about sharing official information with someone whose argument was that Walt’s daughter had been crying. Still, Clay started typing on his computer keyboard.

“Not all the files have been digitized,” Clay explained. “So, even if he had a record, it might not be...” He stopped, started reading something he’d pulled up on the screen. “It’s here. Drunk and disorderly.” He made some more key strokes. “DUI. Two of them,” he added. “He also had his driver’s license revoked.”

This certainly wasn’t painting a pretty picture, but Nicky hadn’t mentioned anything to him about it. They’d only dated for a month, though, and while that had been enough time for sex, it apparently hadn’t been enough for her to share with him the junk going on in her life.

“There’s more,” Clay continued a moment later. “He was brought in and questioned about a domestic violence situation after the cops were called to his house. That happened about seventeen years ago.”

Even though Garrett had just taken a sip of hot coffee, he felt the chill go over him.

“Nothing came of it,” Clay added, “because the person refused to file charges against him.”

“Nicky’s mother,” Garrett mumbled.

“No.” Clay looked up from the screen and met his gaze. “The person he assaulted was Nicky.”


CHAPTER EIGHT (#uae2c159f-6e9b-5cff-a007-ef738a91a632)

GARRETT READ THROUGH the monthly financial report on the ranch that their bookkeeper had just emailed him. It was important because he needed to know if the changes he was making to the livestock inventory were causing the ranch to grow or if he was sending profits in the other direction. Normally, he scrutinized each line of the report, made notes, calculated adjustments that needed to be made.

Not today, though.

He’d read the report twice now, and the info just wasn’t sticking in his head. That’s because he had a distraction.

Nicky.

Not only because he was thinking about her and what he’d learned from Clay, but also because he could see her. She was sitting outside the loaner RV, working on her laptop while watching Kaylee play. It was something he’d watched her do for the past two days. What he hadn’t done was talk to her. That was because he felt like a dick.

Hell, he was a dick.

Here, she’d almost certainly come home to deal with a shitload of old baggage. Some newer baggage, too, since her husband had died and left her a single parent. Dealing with all of that wasn’t easy, and he’d made it hard on her.

“Are you aware you’re mumbling?” Lawson asked.

Garrett had known his cousin was there, of course, since he was using his laptop to read the same financial report that Garrett had been. It was something they did together every week, but Garrett figured he was usually more attentive and not prone to mumbling.

“You said dick and hard,” Lawson went on. “Two words that usually work well together.” He turned, peering out the window that was in Garrett’s line of sight. “Especially when you’ve got a view like that. Nicky’s a looker.”

Yeah, she was, but in this case hard and dick weren’t because that was his physical condition. It was because he owed her an apology. Or two. It turned his stomach to think that her father had assaulted her around the same time that Garrett and she had been dating. And he hadn’t had a clue.

“Is Roman starting something up with Nicky?” Lawson asked.

And it caused Garrett’s gaze to slash to him. “Why would you say that?”

Lawson shrugged, but there was nothing casual about it. His mouth was twitching a little. “Roman only comes to the ranch for emergencies or when Sophie or you browbeat him into coming. Yet, he showed up here a couple days ago with that RV without so much as a prompt. When Roman gives a woman that kind of attention, it’s usually because he wants to fuck her.”

Garrett had never objected to the F-word, but it suddenly seemed vulgar. And possibly true. Roman might be a single dad, but he was still a bad boy at heart, and that drew some women to him. Probably not Nicky, though.

Probably.

“I need to take care of something,” Garrett grumbled. “Let me know if there are any questions about the financial report.”

“Will do, and say hello to Nicky for me.”

Garrett considered punching that twitchy little smile off his cousin’s face. Strange, since violence wasn’t usually his go-to reaction. But it riled him that Lawson or anybody else for that matter thought that Nicky was ready for the taking. Anyone’s taking.

He made his way across the yard, but before he reached Kaylee and Nicky, one of the widows walked past him.





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