“Okay,” she said, and tried not to look as surprised andpleased as she was. “It’s down Lariat Drive. Just two blocks ahead and then right.”
The motel wasn’t bad, for a town that only had three. He stopped in front of the office. And, thank God, none of her contacts had missed her and showed up pacing the sidewalk.
She hesitated. “I’m really sorry about your steer. Bull. Whatever it was. And very grateful for lunch and a ride back.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. His pale silvery blue eyes narrowed. “Just for the record, if I see you on Big Spur again, I won’t be smiling. And badges will be involved.”
“I’d already figured that out,” she said, not taking offense. “Well... bye.”
She opened the door, hopped out and closed the door without meeting his eyes. What a pity, she thought, that she hadn’t met him in a different place, under different circumstances. He was a dish. Intelligent, fearless and very handsome.
But she was here on a mission, with a job to do, and her line of work was nothing if not dangerous. Even her own father didn’t know exactly what she did for a living, which was the only protection she could give him. He was safe enough on his Wyoming ranch, though. Which was more than could be said for his only child.
John drove back home with conflicting emotions. Had he done the right thing? He probably should have called the sheriff and had his erstwhile visitor arrested. She was on the ranch unannounced, about to kill a bull worth a small fortune. He hadn’t turned her in. He’d taken her home and fed her instead.
He groaned. Maybe he was losing his mind since Stasia had married Tanner and gotten pregnant. He was still mourning her, trying to carry on as if nothing tragic had happened in his life.
Tanner was married and getting settled. Odalie was in NewYork training for the Met if she got lucky and pretending that she wasn’t crazy over Tony Garza. John was the only one of the three Everett kids still at home. But then, he was the heir apparent to Big Spur. His dad was counting on him to continue his breeding program and take over the reins.
In fact, he was doing that now. Cole had taken a backseat to the everyday running of the huge operation, right down to letting John make decisions about traits to breed for and organizing the sales events. He’d even stepped back from the ranch’s huge stock and bond portfolio and its real estate holdings and new ventures.
It was a load off his mind, he’d told John. He wasn’t old, not by modern standards, but his had been a hard life. Big Spur hadn’t always been this prosperous. It had been Cole’s business sense and sweat and blood that had brought the operation into the twenty-first century and made it a hallmark by which many other large Texas holdings were measured.
It had taken a toll on his health. He and Heather had moved into their third decade as husband and wife with all the passionate love that had bound them since their youth. They sometimes seemed removed even from their children, and they loved every single one. It was just that they lived in a world of just the two of them. Even in company, they seemed to be by themselves.
All their kids had hoped for such good fortune in their own relationships. Tanner and Stasia had it, finally, after years of tragedy and torment. Odalie and Tony might have it one day, if their years of antagonism ever boiled over into deathless love and marriage.
But John had lost out. He’d always loved Stasia. But she loved Tanner. She never wavered. Once, he’d tried going off in another direction toward Maddie Lane Brannt. But that had been a lukewarm relationship, even before Cort Brannt set his sights on her and married her. He and Cort were still best friends, whooften played video games together. Now that Cort and Maddie had kids, however, there wasn’t a lot of time for those pursuits.
He was at the ranch before he realized it. He was surprised that it had been such a short drive. Of course, his mind had been so busy that he hadn’t paid much attention to the way home.
“Did you get her situated?” Heather asked, smiling, when he came in the door.
He tossed his hat onto the coat tree and sat down on the sofa. “I did. I should have called the sheriff and turned her in,” he added.
She sat on the arm of the sofa. “She didn’t seem like an evil person.”
He chuckled. “Mom,” he said with real affection, “you could find one nice thing to say about the devil himself.”
She sighed. “Probably so. But my instincts are rarely wrong, you know,” she added.
That was true. She had an uncanny ability to judge people. John had inherited her odd sense of foreboding, of sensing trouble coming, as well as her instincts about people. He hadn’t felt any tingling when the girl was in the truck with him. None at all.
“Where is she staying?” Heather asked.
“In a motel in Percell.” He laughed. “She said she wasn’t sure I’d know where Percell was. It’s not exactly New York City,” he chuckled.
“Yes.” She frowned, deep in thought.
“What?” he asked, watching her expression.
“I have the oddest hunch that I’ve seen her before.”
“That’s hardly likely.”
She laughed self-consciously. “It is, isn’t it? I met so many people in the old days, when I was performing onstage.” She hesitated. “I was at the Grammy Awards twice, with your father. Perhaps I met her there.”
“At the Grammys?” he exclaimed.
