Joanna Wayne - Ambush At Dry Gulch

A wooden rocker next to the window with a flowered cushion and a knitted afghan thrown over its arm looked cozy and inviting.

Difficult to imagine the calming decor was the rugged rancher’s doing. But then, she had to admit, she actually knew little about the man other than his coldhearted stubbornness where R.J. was concerned.

Thinking about the brief phone conversation she’d shared with him a few days back still left her seething. She couldn’t understand anyone unwilling to bend a little for a dying parent—even if R.J. had been a rotten father.

She dropped the towel she was wearing sarong-style over her wet clothes and caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror. She grimaced. Her wet, curly locks and runny mascara gave new meaning to the drowned-rat cliché. Her gaze fell lower.

Ohmigod. She could see every pucker of her nipples beneath the damp cotton of her shirt. The others’ shirts had been just as wet—but not white. They’d clung, but she hadn’t noticed that you could see right through them.

No wonder Jake had stared so hard. She might as well have stripped off her shirt.

Her cheeks burned. How was she going to face the guy again? Not without a bit of embarrassment, that was for sure. As if things weren’t awkward enough between them.

No use to dwell on it now. There was no changing the facts. She undressed quickly, peeling off everything, including her bra and panties. Then she dropped the wet clothing outside her door as Edna had instructed.

She wondered if Jake knew what a jewel of a housekeeper he had in Edna. Hopefully he was a lot more considerate to her than he was to R.J.

Carolina headed to the bathroom, took a quick shower to shed the odor of horseflesh and then used a fresh towel to buff her naked body.

The overhead light flickered a couple of times but didn’t go out as she padded back into the bedroom. She wrapped herself in the soft robe, though she had no intention of going back to the den until she was fully dressed.

She threw back the coverlet and slid between the sheets. It was like sinking into a cloud. The serenity lasted only until thoughts of the morning encounter with Thad Caffey returned to haunt her.

Mildred had thought her life with him was behind her. Clearly, Thad did not share that sentiment. But how far would he go to get her back?

How sad for Mildred that her marriage had deteriorated into fear and danger. Yet she must have cared deeply for Thad at one time, before the love changed to fear and heartbreak. Before she saw the man she’d vowed to share her life with as the monster he really was.

Carolina had difficulty comprehending that kind of relationship. Her life with Hugh had been loving and exciting. If anything he’d been overly protective of her. A man’s man, all the way. He’d been her world, and she’d never known fear of anything or anyone when he was around.

The familiar ache set in again. As busy as her life was, as much as she loved her family, her heart still longed for the relationship she’d shared with Hugh.

Having known that kind of love, she could never settle for anything less. She had no illusions that she’d ever find love like that again.

Chapter Five

The pain was blinding, as if someone were hammering nails into his skull. Not a new pain, but one that had become excruciatingly more familiar since the day he’d been sentenced to four agonizing years in prison.

He recognized the torture for what it was, knew the only real release would come when he was back in control. When he could feel the sweet release of revenge.

He’d had four years to plan the payback. Nights of trying to fall asleep to the sounds of rants from half-insane inmates and the scratching of rats scurrying in and out of his stinking cell. Days of staring at bars and marching to the barking orders of guards whom he longed to twist apart like rotten fruit.

Four years of torture. It was time for action. The plan was all in place. The clock was clicking inside the very marrow of his bones.

He picked up the bottle of beer from the bar in front of him, took the last gulp and signaled to the waitress to bring him another.

Before she could, a platinum blonde wearing a low-cut top and inches of thick makeup got up from her stool a few down from his and walked over.

“Want some company? Looks like the rain is going to be with us for a while.”

He didn’t want company, but he shrugged and she obviously took that for a yes. She slid onto the stool next to his.

“I hate stormy Mondays.”

“Yeah,” he muttered. In prison a man lost track of the days. They came and went in a steady stream of monotonous boredom, seeing the same people, eating the same lousy food, staring at the same dull walls.

“You married?” she asked.

“Yeah. My wife is out screwing some wealthy rancher. Is that what you’re looking for, too? I figure you’re just another slut looking for some man to pay for your drinks and maybe get in your pants.”

“You’re crazy, you know that? A freakin’ nutcase.” She stood and walked away.

The waitress put his bottle of beer in front of him without saying a word. He threw a few bills on the bar, gulped down his beer, then got up and walked out of the nearly empty bar.

The rain needled his skin. He kept walking. The hammering grew worse. If he didn’t let off some steam soon, he’d explode.

Chapter Six

Carolina was curled up beneath the comforter, trying to concentrate on a suspense novel she’d taken from the antique desk. She looked up at a light tap on her door.

She glanced at her watch. Almost five. “Come in.”

Peg did, still in her robe and barefoot, since their boots probably wouldn’t be dry for hours. Yet her hair was dry and shiny, makeup meticulously applied.

“Laundry’s done.” She handed Carolina her jeans, shirt, socks and undies.

“You even folded them. Thanks.”

“Actually, Edna folded them. She wouldn’t let me or Sara near the laundry room.”

“We’ll have to think of something nice to do for her after this week,” Carolina said. “Have you seen Mildred?”

“Not yet, but Edna is taking her dry clothes to her now. She would have delivered yours, but she was afraid of waking you. She thinks you’re royalty.”

“That’s what happens when you make the society page.”

They both laughed. “I told Edna you’re a workaholic and were probably in here finalizing and double-checking everything for the Saddle-Up training.”

“You know me too well,” Carolina answered, sidestepping the truth.

Working would have been far more productive than vacillating between concerns about what Thad Caffey might try next and trying to figure out how she could totally manage to avoid Jake Dalton, especially after her wet T-shirt display.

“Edna suggested we meet back in the den for cocktails or a glass of wine once we’re dressed.”

“I’ll join you, but no alcohol for me. I still have to drive back to Austin tonight.”

“If the roads are passable. That was a deluge for about an hour.”

Peg shut the door behind her as she left. Carolina slid off the side of the bed and padded over to the window.

The wind had stopped howling, the thunder had faded into the distance and the driving rain no longer swept the windows in sheets. Only a light mist and a blanket of dark clouds remained—the clouds a lingering threat that the weather might not be through with them yet.

Carolina dressed hurriedly, finished drying her hair and put on a tinge of lipstick before heading back to the den. She heard the laughter as soon as she started down the hallway.

“Thought you’d abandoned us,” Mildred said when Carolina rearranged a couple of throw pillows and took a seat on the end of a deep brown leather sofa.