Cowboy Justice, Page 2

  The telephone rang.

  Marlene reached for it, but Jasper snatched it right out from under his wife’s hand. “Who is this?” he demanded, praying one of his men had had a reason to use the cell phone he’d thrust at them.

  “Jasper Matlock, land magnate?” said the sexless, altered voice from the receiver.

  His heart thundered. “Speaking.” Though “magnate” had become an exaggeration of his current financial state.

  “Jasper,” Marlene hissed at him.

  Fingers gripping the receiver, he ignored her and concentrated on the voice.

  “Your son is safe...for now... so keep it to yourself, if you get my drift.”

  No sheriff, then.

  “What is it you want?” Jasper demanded, now shrugging off the hand that clawed at his arm.

  “You’ll be hearing from me,” the disembodied voice promised.

  “When?”

  But the caller had already hung up.

  He threw the receiver into its cradle.

  “Was that about Gray or not?” Marlene demanded, her voice anguished.

  Nodding absently, he pulled a hand through silver hair.

  “Shoulda known,” he muttered. “Gray’s been snatched for ransom. Someone’s out to ruin me!”

  “Is that all you care about?” Marlene’s stillbeautiful features twisted as she shoved him in the chest with both hands. “Your precious money?”

  Doubly shocked, Jasper stared at his distraught wife. “Sometimes I wonder if you know me at all, woman!”

  Still, considering his current circumstances, Jasper couldn’t help but worry about how much ransom would be required for the safe return of what had always been his most precious possession.

  AT SUNSET, REINE STOPPED her car practically within spitting distance of Hacienda Abreu—well, within shouting distance, anyway—and waited for her stomach to settle. The last thing in the world she’d ever thought she would do was to approach Cash for a favor after all these years.

  Not that she was afraid of facing him; those old feelings were long gone. He’d driven them from her heart as he himself had been driven from Matlock Ranch.

  It was just that he’d become a man she couldn’t respect. Hard. Ruthless. Greedy.

  Another Jasper Matlock.

  The setting sun fired the pinnacles and spires of the barrancas jutting out from the valley beyond the house, making her realize that a full twenty-four hours had passed since Gray had gone after the stray.

  Reminding herself of the boy Cash had once been—of the feelings he’d once had for Gray—Reine took heart, and started her car.

  She worked on positive thoughts as she wended her way along a gravel road through the chamiso and golden aspens toward the real adobe home that Cash had built years after buying the land neighboring Matlock Ranch. Reine suspected he’d wanted to be right under Jasper’s nose, to throw his success in the old man’s face.

  He’d done a damn fine job of it, too.

  She pulled up opposite the front entrance and slid out of the car.

  Hacienda Abreu’s exterior was fortresslike but for the shaded, Saltillo-tiled front porch with wide ponderosa-pine beams. She’d barely stepped a booted toe onto it when she came face-to-face with a suspended swing of weathered wood that could have come straight out of her adolescence. Her breath caught in her throat. There’d been one just like it on the Matlock Ranch. She and Cash had spent hours swinging together, playing guessing games about what the future might hold for them....

  She couldn’t help herself. Grasping the seat, she gave it a small push to see if it would creak.

  The familiar sound sent a shiver up her spine and her racing for the front door.

  There was no bell or buzzer. With a hand that trembled slightly, she clanked the gecko-shaped knocker, then stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest.

  A moment later, the door opened to reveal a young Hispanic woman in jeans and a T-shirt, hands held up around her face like a surgeon, elbow-length rubber gloves dripping soapy water.

  “I’m here to see Cash,” Reine said. “Mr. Abreu.”

  “He’s probably holed up in his office. Um...” The girl’s long black ponytail swung over her shoulder as she glanced down at the suds on the tile floor. She tried blotting the wet spots with her bare feet. “Give me a sec and I’ll get him.”

  Thinking the advantage of surprise wouldn’t hurt her case, Reine said, “No, wait, I didn’t mean to interrupt you at your work. Just point the way and I’ll find him myself.”

  The girl gave her an intent look, then said, “Yeah, sure. You look safe enough. That way.” Her indicating the direction with a gloved hand dripped more suds in another area. She muttered something to herself in Spanish, then to Reine said, “Around the corner and through the living area. The office is the only room on the left near the hall. Can’t miss it.”

  “Thanks.”

  Equilibrium restored, Reine swept through an arched doorway into the two-story living area that had been decorated with some of the finest-crafted Southwestern furniture she’d ever seen. She especially appreciated the trastero, a tall wooden cupboard, with a raised Native American pattern on its doors. At the far end of the room was a hallway.

  And just before it, the office was, indeed, impossible to miss.

  It was also empty.

  Reine glanced back, but the young woman had disappeared. Hesitating for only a second, she stepped inside. Niches carved into plaster walls on either side of a corner beehive fireplace provided shelving for books. A hand-carved desk sat before windows facing the inner courtyard, the center of which she could see was graced by a tiered fountain.

  “My heart flows over... my spirit fties....”

  Snatches of soft country music beckoned from another part of the house and drifted through an open doorway to her right. Figuring if she followed the sound, she would find Cash, Reine decided to investigate further. Entering a wide hallway that was being used as a gallery, she slowed and turned in a circle, eyes opening in amazement at the collection of Southwestern artists on the walls, including Gorman and Peña and a small O’Keeffe—all originals.

  “Long, lonesome road... called love...”

  A little awed by the museum-quality gallery that was part of Cash’s home, Reine felt another surge of nerves as she kept going through the only other open door. After taking several steps into the room, she froze. Cash’s bedroom. His king-size, raw-pine fourposter bed was unmade. The turquoise-and-clay-colored sheets and matching quilt were rumpled as if he’d been napping. And from an inner room, the rush of running water competed with the sounds coming from his CD player.

  “...never thought I’d see you...again....”

  Both the music and the sound of the water died at the same time, startling Reine. Her pulse fluttering strangely, she wondered what the heck she was doing stalking Cash in the privacy of his own bedroom. She should have let the girl find him—or at the very least have waited in his office.

  His office...

  She should go there now.

  But she’d scarcely backed up a step before a door opened and Cash stepped out.

  Reine started at the sight before her—a long expanse of damp skin covering a powerfully-built body—and a rush of something familiar and forbidden enveloped her. Even realizing he’d wrapped a turquoise towel around his trim waist didn’t dissipate the primitive response that set her pulse racing and stole her breath. His bronzed skin mesmerized her as did the wet tendrils of dark hair brushing his forehead.

  When Cash finally spotted her, a flicker of surprise crossed his features, but he kept coming past the bed, stopping with barely a yard between them. His dark eyes seemed to devour her, touching the lace at her throat, the silver-and-turquoise button covers on the front of her blouse, the Concho belt wrapped around her waist, the folds of deep blue velvet skirt flowing down over her thighs to the tops of her boots.

  “Didn’t know I had company.”

  “I didn’t
know you were otherwise occupied.” She hated the catch in her voice. “Your cleaning girl said you’d be in your office.”

  “She was obviously mistaken since this obviously isn’t my office.”

  “I just followed the music....”

  Feeling awkward and foolish and not knowing where to look, Reine let her words trail off and locked onto his gaze for safety—such as it was. His suddenly intense expression made her doubly uncomfortable.

  Why was he looking at her like that?

  Why now?

  They’d seen each other over the years more than a dozen times, usually at some public or charitable function. He’d always had a woman on his arm, always blond, each one more beautiful than the last.

  But they’d never spoken then.

  She started to back away. “I—I can wait for you in your office.”

  “You’re here now. Have your say.”

  But with him so close she could almost feel the heat of his skin, she was having trouble thinking, let alone talking. Still, her mission was important, so she doubled her effort.

  “It’s about Gray,” she managed.

  “He hasn’t shown up yet?”

  “You already know?”

  “Only that he disappeared last night,” he said in a purely conversational tone.

  Cash was acting so casually—as if it didn’t mean anything to him, as if Gray didn’t... It threw her off anew.

  When she said, “He’s been kidnapped,” Reine noted barely a flicker in Cash’s gaze. She kept silent for a moment, waiting for a response that didn’t come. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

  “What would you like me to say?”

  “Something. That you’re sorry. That you can’t believe this is happening. That you want to help. For heaven’s sake, Gray is your brother!”

  Another flicker. “We were never brothers.”

  “You can’t deny your own blood.”

  “No?” Cash arched his dark eyebrows. “That’s not my experience.”

  Damn Uncle Jasper, anyway! Reine thought furiously.

  “You know that wasn’t Gray’s doing,” Reine reminded him. “And if nothing else, you were best friends!”

  “A lifetime ago.”

  “I don’t care how long ago. You have a memory.”

  But whether or not he still had a heart was another question.

  His lids drooped, hooding his eyes. “I remember everything, Reine.”

  She hated the way he said her name—so possessively—when he didn’t have the right.

  “So do I, Cash, but this isn’t about us.”

  “You could make it about us.”

  “Excuse me?”

  A grin pulled at his mouth but didn’t reach his eyes. He tugged at the towel and freed it, first rubbing at his stomach and then at his chest, where the dry air had already finished the job.

  Reine was so appalled she was speechless.

  Was that his aim?

  To silence her? To drive her away?

  Certainly not to seduce her. If Cash had wanted her, he would have made the opportunity happen. Or tried. Only he never had.

  She was equally appalled by her own reaction. Having no say over her own body, her own psyche, both of which were responding to his blatant actions, she only hoped he couldn’t tell.

  “What is it you expect me to do, Reine?” Cash finally asked, casually holding the towel between them. “Rant and rail at the gods?” His brow furrowed. “Or pay the ransom?”

  “We don’t even know how much they want yet.” Realizing she’d made a big mistake in coming to him, she shook her head. “And I don’t even know what I expected from you—”

  “Then why did you come?”

  Reine’s laugh was brittle. “Because I figured, despite everything, you might still care, just a little.”

  “About Gray?” he asked, pausing for only a second before adding, “Or you?”

  He dropped the towel.

  First, she gasped. And then she got angry.

  With as much contempt as she could muster, Reine glared at Cash and gave him a thorough once-over as he so obviously was daring her to do.

  His body was the beautiful, smoothly sculpted work of a driven man. And it was definitely aroused. She purposely gave that part of his anatomy a more thorough inspection.

  Steeling herself against responding in any way that would satisfy him, she spat, “Go to hell, Cash Abreu!”

  “Been there, done that.”

  “Obviously not long enough to learn anything!”

  That said, Reine spun on her boot heel, and only with utmost will, walked rather than ran out of the room, away from the selfish bastard who had once held her heart in his hands.

  CASH WAITED UNTIL REINE was out of hearing range before cursing a blue streak that would have made a cowpoke’s ears burn. What the hell had possessed her to make herself at home, waltzing into his bedroom as if she owned it? Facing him down as if she owned him? He waited for the faint sound of her car starting up before moving from the spot.

  Crossing the room, he threw open the double doors of his private patio and dived into the pool where he slashed his arms through the water like a windmill. He swam without pausing until his lungs ached and he couldn’t drive his muscles to carry him another yard.

  Gasping, he stumbled out of the water and fell onto the sun-warmed tile, where he rolled over onto his back and tried to convince himself he wasn’t the bastard of all time.

  He’d accomplished what he’d been after, he reminded himself—her immediate departure.

  Her arrival today had thrown him.

  And her update about Gray...

  Against his will, he remembered the past, the day he’d dared set foot on Matlock property only months after being booted off. Matlock had found him with Reine and had beaten him before sending on his way with a warning to never return.

  But no one could have kept him from his daddy’s funeral.

  Zane Abreu had been the father every kid dreamed of. Loving. Supportive. A friend as well as a parent. His death had devastated Cash. And so had the letter his daddy had left behind.

  Cash still remembered the words he’d read so many times:

  ..:you have to know the truth. I married your mother because I’d loved her for years... and despite the fact that she was carrying another man’s child. Jasper Matlock is the man who sired you, Son, and Gray is your half brother. Forgive me for being selfish enough to keep this secret for so many years. I love you more than my own life...

  Stunned, Cash hadn’t wanted to believe it, but his mother had confirmed the awful facts. Matlock had slept with her but had married Marlene; then he’d pushed Luna and Zane together.

  Because she’d become inconvenient, Cash had realized, Matlock had for all intents and purposes sold off the woman he’d used. The bastard had treated his mother as if she’d been his personal slave.

  That truth had echoed through Cash’s head as Zane Abreu’s casket had been lowered into the ground. Even as he’d said goodbye to the man who’d raised him as his own, he had seethed with the knowledge. And then, his heart breaking, he had thrown it in Jasper Matlock’s face right there at the gravesite, before God and everyone.

  His stomach had twisted into a sick knot. He wanted to use his fists on the man... but more than that, he wanted to hurt him in the worst possible way he knew.

  “I’ll make you pay!” Cash had promised the sorry bastard. “If it’s the last thing I ever do, I’ll strip you of everything you care about!”

  And so he had over the years, to the very best of his abilities.

  Cash wiped a hand over his wet face as if he could wipe away the memories. They were always there, just below the surface, waiting. He couldn’t soften, couldn’t allow himself to be swayed from his purpose.

  He couldn’t think about the past.

  Therein lay danger. A threat to his plan.

  He needed to stay focused if he was to get everything he’d ever wanted.


  Money was his mantra.

  Money made him who he was.

  As did things. And land.

  Except for the Matlock Ranch.

  The one thing in life that he really wanted, that really would mean something to him, continued to elude him. He didn’t need the water rights since he didn’t raise cattle. He wasn’t planning on turning the land into yet another housing development. He merely wanted to possess the acreage to prove that he could.

  It irked him that he hadn’t yet been able to rip the spread from Matlock’s tightfisted grasp.

  Maybe now... when the old man was vulnerable...

  An image of Gray as a boy—his unusually fierce expression when defending their friendship—got in the way.

  Keep the goal in mind, Cash reminded himself. The land.

  Not the people.

  Not the bodies he’d have to climb over to get it. He couldn’t think about them.

  Couldn’t think about Gray.

  Gray would be all right, he assured himself. Jasper Matlock wouldn’t let a hair on his legitimate son’s head be harmed.

  Another memory came—of a serious little girl with golden braids touching the bloody pad of her thumb to Gray’s and his as they all swore allegiance to each other.

  All for one and one for all...

  He couldn’t think about Reine.

  Especially not about Reine.

  But he couldn’t stop.

  He’d never forget the first time she’d looked at him with a sense of awareness, and he’d realized she was seeing him as more than a best friend.

  Reine had been beautiful then, but she’d grown into an even more lovely, desirable woman, the perfume she wore conjuring images of lovemaking in an exotic garden. Even while he’d been trying to shock her into leaving, his body had betrayed him.

  His body was betraying him now. just remembering.

  Cursing another blue streak, Cash rolled over and dropped back into the pool.