Joanna Wayne - Unrepentant Cowboy

So why the hell was he fighting an overwhelming urge to start driving and not stop until Texas was so far behind him he couldn’t even see it in his mind?

Finally, he started the engine and began the short drive to his downtown condominium. He flicked on the radio. A local talk show host was reporting on a woman’s murder in a rural area just outside Dallas.

The victim’s identity hadn’t been released, but the body had been found by a hunter just after dawn this morning. The hunter had told reporters the body was covered in what looked like wounds from a hunting knife.

Sickening images crept into Leif’s mind, remnants of crime-scene photos that had a way of lingering in the dark crevices of his consciousness long after the juries had made their decisions.

He frequently had to remind himself that the world was full of kind, loving, sane people. Psychos like Edward Blanco and whoever had committed this morning’s murder were the exception. That didn’t make it any easier on the victims’ families.

Leif listened to the details—at least the details the police had given the media. He knew there were a few they’d keep secret—identifying facts that only they and the killer would know.

The body had been discovered in a rural area southwest of Dallas near the small town of Oak Grove.

Leif had been in that area a few months back when he’d made a wasted trip to Dry Gulch Ranch. For all he knew, he might have driven by the victim’s house. She would have been alive then, planning her future, thinking she had a long life in front of her.

Or perhaps not. She might have been involved with drug addicts and dealers or a jealous boyfriend who’d kill rather than lose her.

A streak of lightning slashed through thick layers of dark clouds as Leif pulled into the parking garage. The crash of thunder that followed suggested the storm was imminent.

Leif flicked off the radio, left the car with the valet and took the key-secured elevator to the twenty-second floor.

Once inside his condo, he headed straight for the bar and poured himself two fingers of Glenmorangie. Glass in hand, he walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows, pulled back the drapes and stared out at the city just as huge raindrops began to pelt the glass.

His thoughts shifted to the Dry Gulch Ranch and the infamous reading of R. J. Dalton’s will. Not that his biological father was dead, at least not yet. Or if he was Leif hadn’t been notified. He wouldn’t have made it to the funeral under any circumstances.

The old reprobate had had no use for Leif or his younger brother, Travis, when they’d desperately needed a father. Leif didn’t need or want R.J. in his life now. He definitely wouldn’t be letting R.J. manipulate his life as specified in his absurd will.

Leif took a slow sip of the whiskey and tried to clear his mind of troubling thoughts. Only along with everything else that was festering inside him tonight, the truth about his own failures forced its way to the forefront.

His failed marriage. The divorce. His relationship—or lack of one—with his teenage daughter, Effie.

His daughter had blamed the split between him and her mother totally on him. Leif had let it go at that, though the marriage had been a mistake from the beginning.

What they’d taken for love had probably been lust and their drives to succeed. In the end their shared workaholic, competitive tendencies had driven them apart. Marriage had become a stressful balancing act between two people who had nothing but their beloved daughter in common.

Celeste had suggested the divorce, but Leif had been the one who moved out. That was five years ago. Leif had been sure Effie would understand and come around with time. She hadn’t, and she was fifteen now.

His career move from San Francisco to Dallas hadn’t helped. What with his and Celeste’s schedules and Effie’s school and extracurricular activities, quality time with his daughter had become harder and harder to come by.

He saw Effie twice a year now, a week of summer vacation and the week between Christmas and New Year’s. He made the trip to California. In spite of his coaxing, she’d never once visited him in Dallas.

He downed the last of his drink and then went back to the bar and refilled his glass. He’d just set the bottle down when he heard a timid tapping at his door. No doubt one of his neighbors since a visitor had to have a key to the building or else be buzzed inside by a tenant.

He ignored the would-be visitor and loosened his tie.

There was another knock, this one much louder than the first. Irritated, Leif walked to the door and peered through the keyhole to see who was so persistent.

Tattered jeans. A gray hoodie. Bright amber eyes shadowed by smeared mascara peering from beneath strands of dark, wet hair that had fallen over her forehead. A jolt rocked along his nerve endings.

His hands shook as he opened the door to greet the last person he’d expected to see tonight.

Chapter Two

Effie lowered her gaze to the toes of her wet boots, suddenly sure that coming here had been a miserable mistake.

“Hello, Dad.”

“Effie. What are you doing here?”

Not the welcome most girls would expect from a father they hadn’t seen in months. She went back to staring at her boots since she didn’t have a great answer to his question.

He opened the door wider. “Come in. You’re soaked.”

“It’s raining,” she said, stating the obvious. She pushed her wet bangs to the side and leaned against the wall to wiggle out of her boots.

“There must have been some miscommunication,” her dad said. “I had no idea you were coming.”

“I meant to call first.” She shrugged out of her wet hoodie.

Her father took the hoodie and placed it on an odd-shaped granite-topped table that took up most of the marble entryway. “Where’s your mother?” he asked.

“She’s in England on business. But it was her idea that I fly down and spend Thanksgiving with you.”

“I’m glad she did.” Finally, he pulled her into his arms for a hug.

Once the hug was out of the way, the reunion grew even more awkward. He looked past her, picked up her two suitcases and set them inside the condo.

She shifted her heavy computer bag from one shoulder to the other.

“Here, let me take that for you,” he offered. Once the bag was on his shoulder, he closed and locked the door. “So you just flew from San Francisco to Dallas by yourself?” he asked, still looking puzzled.

“I’m fifteen.”

“And no longer a kid, I know. Still, I can’t imagine your mother letting you make the trip without checking with me first. What if I’d been out of town on business?”

“I was supposed to call, but then I forgot and...” She was never easy with lying. She’d actually hoped he’d be out of town. “If you have plans for the holiday, you don’t have to change them on my account.”

“I have no plans. If I did, I’d definitely change them. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you.”

His expression didn’t mimic his words.

She turned away, aware of all the leather, glass and mirrors that surrounded her. The room felt more like an impersonal waiting room in a fancy office than a home.

“When did your mother go to England?” he asked.

“Two weeks ago.”

“That’s a long time to be away from home. Does that happen often?”

“It has this year. Mom’s working on a big project.” And a new life. Which meant a new life for Effie, as well. It definitely wouldn’t be here in this condo. Not in London, either, if she got her way. Which was the real reason she was here.

“I didn’t realize she’s away so much.”

“It’s her job, Dad. And it’s not like I need her around every second. I have school and my friends. And I’ve been helping out at a local horse stable in exchange for riding lessons.”