Angi Morgan - The Cattleman

Almost a year since he’d been shot and there were only two instances when his dreams hadn’t attacked him. A night of sedated dreams in the hospital while recovering, and one night in the arms of a raven-haired seductress.

The first thought of Beth started his blood pumping faster. The second thought cooled his heels in a blink. Having law enforcement constantly searching his property was bad enough. Undercover DEA was worse. Getting involved with her was out of the question. Her skill set would never be adequate for the Davis Mountains.

Sure, she could handle a gun. She’d proved that by dropping the drug dealer jamming a .45 to his head. But she was afraid of horses, for crying out loud. He was a rancher. He rode horses. Needed horses. Couldn’t live without horses.

But he could definitely live without Beth setting foot on his ranch again.

A timid knock on the door had him jumping into the mud-caked jeans he’d dropped on the floor next to the bed.

“Nick? You awake?” His mother’s voice was so soft it wouldn’t have been heard if he hadn’t been awake.

He found his digital clock across the room. Nine in the morning? “Mom, did you move the alarm again?”

“Oh, good, dear, you’re awake. Are you dressed?”

He hauled a T-shirt over his head just before she pushed the door open a crack. “Go ahead and come in and confirm my total lack of privacy as a thirty-year-old man. I’ve told you before that you’ve got to stop turning off the alarm.”

His mom stood with one fist on a hip and one finger pointed in the air to halt his speech. Easier just to let her have her say. “Dear, there’s someone here to see you, and I didn’t want you riding off to rope a cow or check a fence.”

Almost twenty-five years on the ranch and his mother still had no desire to learn what really went on here. He’d laugh, but he’d learned the hard truth of ranch work only after his foreman had shot him in the back.

“You know I’m not seeing people.”

“Yes, sweetheart. I’ve tried a couple of times to warn you about this appointment. I even left a message on your phone.”

“Appointment?”

“That’s right. I tried to ask you, but since you ignored me, I’ve taken matters into my own hands. You’ll either march into the living room or pack your bags.” She drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“No way. You probably have a shrink in there.”

“So, you’re leaving, then. Such a shame. Your father and I will miss you every day, but we’ll deal with it.” Her hands fell to her sides and he swore she looked three inches shorter.

“What? Mom, this is my ranch. You can’t kick me off.”

“Yes, it is, son, but not officially. Not yet.” She stepped closer and hugged him around his waist, too short to put her arms any higher.

He patted her shoulder, thinking again. Had he really heard her correctly? He set her away from him. “You’re saying I have to see whoever’s in the living room or lose my inheritance?”

“We’re not going to disinherit you, Nick.” She turned and sat on the corner of the bed. “Would it work if I did? Would you talk with a counselor?” She wrung the corner of her apron around her hands, obviously distressed. “How long do you think you can keep this up?”

“What? Working my own ranch? Men have been doing it for centuries.”

“You know what I’m talking about. Sweetheart, you barely sleep. Don’t you think your dad and I hear every time you wake up? Or creep down the hallway to watch television? Or even play those games on your laptop at all hours?” With a long sigh she sat on the edge of the bed.

“That’s all normal, the doctors told you—”

She closed her eyes. She waited for him to finish. Her manners had never allowed her to talk over someone else.

“You’re out the door before dawn,” she continued. “And not back inside until nine or ten at night. Straight to your room and screaming from your nightmares when you do fall asleep.”

“I didn’t know you could hear me.” His parents had never said a word. What part of his nightmares had they heard? “Do you think talking about this with a stranger is going to help?”

His quiet mother brushed a tear from her cheek. He was lost, unable to respond. It hadn’t always been that way, only since...

“It’s worth a try.” Juliet Burke put her hands on her thighs and stood. “But that’s not who’s waiting for you.”

Man alive, he’d almost agreed to talk to a shrink. His mother didn’t know just how close he’d been to caving. He hated seeing her so concerned. Hugging her tight to his chest, he was unable—or unwilling—to look into her sad, worried eyes.

“Come on, Mom. It’s getting better,” he lied. He faked a smile as he released her, crossing his fingers that she’d relax and believe him for a day or two. “Does breakfast come with this meeting?”

“Of course. I was just waiting for you to get up before putting the biscuits in the oven. Beth’s drinking coffee and we’ll visit while you shower.”

“Beth Conrad? The DEA Amazon that hates my guts? The woman who swore she’d lock me up for obstruction if I interfered in her investigation again? That Beth?”

“She doesn’t hate you, sweetheart. She’s come to ask a favor.” His mother moved and gently shut the door as she left.

“The last favor she asked for involved me walking down a long pier and jumping head first into a dry lake.”

“I heard that.”

* * *

BETH CONRAD HEARD IT, TOO. She silently slipped back to the ancient fireplace in the living room as Juliet’s footsteps started down the hallway. Yes, she’d been listening to a private conversation, but she didn’t actually have a good track record with Nick Burke. It grated her last nerve to ask him for anything. It didn’t matter that technically she wasn’t the person who was asking.

“Need some more coffee?” Juliet asked, wiping her palms across the embroidered apron. The smile on her face hid any of the anxiety that had been in her voice a few moments ago.

“No, thanks. I’m fine. Or at least I am at the moment. I’m not certain how crow tastes and might choke a little once Nick is out here.”

Juliet laughed.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Juliet. Your son and I haven’t been the best of friends since I was transferred here. The little I’ve gotten to know about him suggests he won’t capitulate.”

“Nonsense, you don’t know each other and have only met under the most stressful situations.” She held up a hand and paused.

Beth had only met Juliet and Alan Burke a couple of weeks ago. After the disastrous operation in the mountains, Nick had driven Beth to the Alpine emergency room. Then he’d stuck around to give her a lift back to the bed-and-breakfast where she’d been staying. His parents had misunderstood his cryptic message and rushed to the hospital, thinking their son had been shot again. After a sigh of relief, they’d waited with their son and had insisted on taking her to dinner. Nick had fumed and protested the entire way to the café.

“Okay, I hear the shower running so we can really talk now,” Juliet said. “This is beneficial for you both, Beth. We’ve gone all through this.”

“Yes, ma’am. But just for the record, I protested then and I’m protesting now. Kate McCrea should never have twisted her husband’s arm to request that I reside at the ranch. He’s a Texas Ranger and technically my boss. I don’t know why she asked that I be kept on the task force, I should add.” If he hadn’t, she’d be out of the DEA and searching for a new job.

Instead she’d act like a sitting duck. A dangling carrot they hoped to lure the perpetrator into making a move against her with. Tasked with the covert job of finding ruthless informants passing information to gunrunners and drug smugglers. Honestly, acting as bait was the only skill she felt competent in providing McCrea’s task force.