Texas-Sized Secrets

Chapter Three

“Just like you said, the fences were cut and there were tire tracks in the dirt by the road. Other than that, we didn’t find any other evidence.” Sheriff Parker Lee stood with his hat still firmly planted on his head, despite being indoors. A smug look barely hid beneath the surface of his painted-on concern.

Mona’s stomach burbled, the acid churning nonstop since Parker Lee stepped through her door. She swore she’d never let him set foot on her property in her lifetime. But then tough times called for compromises. “You can’t tell me you’re still clueless. That’s three hits in the past month.” Mona stopped midway across the living room to face the one man she hated more than any other. “What’s it gonna take to get you to do something about this problem?”

The sheriff stepped forward and laid his hands on her shoulders. “Now, Mona, if you’d just let me take care of you like I promised, none of this would be happening.”

Her anger turned to deep dark rage. If her eyes could shoot venom, she’d have poisoned Parker Lee with one look. “Get your hands off me.”

“Mona…” His fingers tightened on her arms until they hurt.

Mona cocked her knee, ready to plant it square in his groin.

“The lady told you to get your hands off her.” Reed pushed through the screen door and entered the room. He stood with his feet braced apart, his cowboy hat in one hand.

“Bryson.” Sheriff Lee’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t expect you to be out here. I thought you headed back to Chicago.”

“Hardly.”

Mona shot a look at Reed. She’d hired him on the spot without so much as an interview. She knew nothing else about this man. “He’s with me.”

“You do know Bryson here was a deputy for all of five months before I fired him. Can’t have a deputy who refuses to follow orders.” Lee’s brows rose. “Ain’t that right?”

Reed’s lips thinned, but he refused to answer, although his gaze remained on Sheriff Lee.

Mona liked him all the more for not rising to Parker Lee’s bait. She couldn’t claim the same amount of restraint. Too often she’d come close to scratching the man’s eyes out. A purely female reaction to a lying, deceiving man. Thank God she was over him.

“Mona? What’s goin’ on here?” A booming voice sounded outside on the porch before her uncle Arty pushed through the doorway. “What’s the sheriff doin’ here?”

Her two ranch hands, Dusty Gaither and Jesse Lopez, followed him in.

“Pardon, Miss Mona,” Jesse said. “He insisted on coming in.”

Oh great. Now they could have one happy hoedown. The dry cereal she’d forced herself to eat that morning threatened to come up. “Someone made off with thirty head of Rancho Linda cattle.”

“Told your daddy to leave this place to me. Ain’t right to saddle a girl with this much responsibility.”

Mona’s head hurt and she didn’t want to take anything for the pain, but the pain was making her stomach act up.

Rosa Garcia, her housekeeper and surrogate mother, appeared by her side with a tray of lemonade and crackers. “Eat this,” she whispered.

The thought of putting anything past her lips made her even more nauseous, but if she didn’t, she’d be sick in front of all three men. Mona lifted a cracker and a glass of lemonade. “Thank you.”

“I’ve tried to tell her the same. She needs a man around here.” The sheriff’s chest puffed out as if to say he was the one who should fill that role.

Mona swallowed her cracker in two bites, choking on what Parker Lee implied. “I can manage the ranch on my own.”

Uncle Arty snorted. “Do you call losing thirty cattle managing? How many did you lose last week? Twenty more? You can’t manage a six-thousand-acre ranch with just a few Mexicans. For all you know, they’re the ones stealing from you.”

Mona set her glass on the table with a thump. “Watch it, Uncle. You’re forgetting I’m half Mexican.” She marched across the room and stood toe-to-toe with the man. “You may not have liked it that my father married a Mexican, but he loved my mother and she loved him. You should be so lucky to have that kind of relationship.”

Her uncle didn’t back down a bit. “What do you know? She died when you were little. I still think my brother only married her to spite our father.”

“Get out.” Mona stood with one hand fisted on her hip, the other pointing to the doorway.

“Now, you listen to me, girl,” her uncle blustered. “I don’t like that tone of voice.”

“Get. Out.” If she had to use a gun, she would. Uncle or no, he had no right to bad-mouth her father, God rest his soul.

“So be it.” Her uncle stalked across the room and turned when he reached the door. He jabbed a finger at her. “You’re going to run this place into the ground. You mark my words.”

“Maybe so, but it’s my place to run into the ground, not yours.”

“This land has been in the Grainger family for over one hundred years and should have stayed in the family. You’re nothin’ but a girl. You don’t stand a chance. When it goes up in smoke, don’t expect me to bail you out.”

REED OPENED the screen for Mona’s uncle, his brows high on his forehead. “You were leaving?”

“Don’t get smart with me, young man. You’ll be out of work within a week and I can guarantee you won’t find another job in this county.”

With a smile plastered to his face, Reed waved toward the open door, refusing to rise to the man’s threat.

Once Mona’s uncle left, Reed turned to the sheriff, his anger rising. A useless excuse for law enforcement, Parker Lee wouldn’t survive a day on the Chicago police force. He’d be shot in the back by one of his own men. Then again, he’d never have been hired. Lee didn’t have what it took—integrity.

“You shouldn’t be so hard on your uncle. He’s right, you know.” Sheriff Lee turned a sneering glance at Reed. “I’m surprised Mona hired you. Especially since you can’t seem to hold a job.”

To Reed’s surprise, Mona’s face softened into a sensual smile. “Who said I hired him?” She walked across the floor and hooked an arm around Reed’s waist. “Reed lives here.”

With supreme effort, Reed forced his expression to be casual, calm, not flat-out shocked. He pulled her close against him and dropped a kiss to the top of her hair. No perfumes clogged his senses, just the simple smell of soap and herbal shampoo rose up to greet him. She fit against him like she was meant to be there. He kinda liked it. “Do we need to spell it out for you?” He stared across the wooden floor at Parker Lee.

A muscle in the sheriff’s jaw twitched before he responded. “Just remember, she was mine before she even knew you.”

Mona’s body tensed against Reed’s. “I was never yours. Any relationship we might have had is in the past. And, trust me, I’ll always remember it as a huge lapse in my judgment.”

The man’s face burned a mottled red before he turned on his heel and marched through the door. Without another word, he climbed into the custom SUV with Sheriff painted in bold letters on each side and spun out of the gravel driveway.

“I don’t suppose he’ll be of much help finding the cattle rustlers, do you?” Mona stared after the sheriff, still standing in the curve of Reed’s arm. Then as if she remembered where she was, she stepped away, her face coloring a pretty shade of rosy pink beneath her natural tan. “I’m sorry. I just put you on the spot.” A smile curved her lips, humor adding a twinkle to her deep brown-black eyes. “Thanks for going along with my little ruse.”

“So, you and Sheriff Lee were an item?”

“Over five months ago. And we only went out for a month. I wouldn’t call us an item.”

“Still, he thinks he has squatting rights.”

“Some men don’t get the hint, even when it’s flung square in their faces. Parker Lee considers me one of his conquests and he doesn’t like to lose.” She shrugged. “I’m afraid I’ve made you a powerful enemy in this county.”

“I’m not sweating it. I’ve seen how the sheriff operates.”

“Yeah, that’s right. I don’t remember seeing you on the police force.”

“I worked nights.”

“Why’d you quit?”

“I had my reasons.”

She nodded. “I get it. Don’t ask.”

“Do you have any regrets knowing I quit the sheriff’s department?”

“No. In fact it makes me even more certain I hired the right man. Since I opened my mouth to Parker, you’d better move your gear from the bunkhouse into the main house. Rosa!”

The small Hispanic woman stood framed in the doorway as if she’d anticipated Mona’s call. “Sí, hija.”

“Mr. Bryson will be staying in the house. Would you mind putting fresh sheets on the guest bed?”

The older woman shot Reed a penetrating look. “Are you sure he can be trusted?”

Mona tipped her head to the side and stared at Reed. “Can you?”

With her looking at him with a spark in her dark eyes, Reed wasn’t so sure himself. She was beautiful in both an earthy and exotic way, with no need for makeup or fancy clothing. At that moment, he wanted to leave before he did something stupid like develop a hankerin’ for this woman who insisted on waging a battle against all odds. But to leave her now didn’t sit right in Reed’s book. She was one woman trying to do it all.

“I’m a man of my word.” He shifted his hat to his other hand. “Now let me get this straight. My job is to help find your cattle rustlers?”

“That’s right.”

“What about Parker Lee?”

“If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you’d continue playing the part of my live-in to keep him off my back.”

Not that he wanted anything out of her but his paycheck, but Reed couldn’t help asking, “What’s in it for me?”

“You get to eat Rosa’s good cooking instead of fending for yourself with the boys in the bunkhouse.”

Reed’s mouth twisted. “Having had the opportunity to taste their cooking, I’d be honored to pretend to be your boyfriend.”

Rosa crossed her arms over her chest. “Just remember, there are three people in this house besides you. Don’t try anything with Miss Mona, or you’ll have to answer to me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He turned to Mona. “Is there anything else I should know?”

Mona chewed her lip for a moment before shaking her head. “No.”

“Yes, there is.” Rosa moved forward to stand beside Mona. “Tell him.”

“No.” Mona’s face flushed and a thin sheen of perspiration coated her skin. “It’s none of his business.”

Curious now, Reed waited.

“If he’s to help protect you and Rancho Linda, he needs to know everything.”

“That’s right.” Reed didn’t like the way Mona fidgeted. What else was she hiding?

“No.” She wrapped an arm around her belly, her face turning a sickly shade of gray-green. “None of the hands know and the fewer people who do know the better.”

Rosa grabbed Mona’s arms. “You can’t continue to ignore the fact and, if you’re not careful, you’ll hurt yourself and…others. Look at you. You can’t even keep food down.”

“It doesn’t change anything. I still have a job to do and I will find the cattle rustlers.”

“You need to tell him.”

“No.” Tears welled in her eyes and she shot a panicked look at Reed. “Ah hell.” Mona clamped a hand to her mouth and ran from the room.

Reed could hear her being sick in the bathroom and he started to follow her.

A hand on his arm stopped him.

“Let me go. She’s obviously sick.” When he tried to move past the woman, her grip tightened. “What’s wrong with her? That’s the third time since we met she’s lost it.”

“Mr. Bryson. If you really want to help Miss Grainger, you need to understand…she’s pregnant.”

Chapter Four

“Good afternoon, Miss Grainger.” Jeffrey Kuhn stood in the doorway of his office and waved her over. His graying blond hair and green eyes were set off by the light gray tailored suit he wore.

Something about his tanned skin and broad shoulders didn’t fit the suit and tie. Having known the man for most of her life, Mona didn’t understand why, all of the sudden, she’d think Kuhn didn’t belong in the bank. “Hello, Mr. Kuhn.”

“If you’d step into my office, we have matters to discuss.”

“We do?” Mona had come to Prairie Rock to make the monthly mortgage payment on her land, not chat with the bank president. She had a lot of work to do back home. An uneasy twinge gripped her belly as if the baby tried to warn her something was amiss.

“Yes, we do.” He waited until she entered his office and then closed the door behind her.

If she’d known she was going to have a business meeting with the bank president she’d have worn something other than her usual jeans and denim shirt. Hell, she’d have left her hair loose instead of pulling it back into a juvenile ponytail. Mona resisted the urge to pat the dust off her clothing before she took the seat opposite the banker, a massive mahogany desk between them. “What is it you wanted to discuss?”

He stared at her for several seconds before beginning, as if sizing her up. “I understand you’ve had troubles out at the Rancho Linda?”

Mona fought to keep her expression blank. Cattle rustling in the area couldn’t be kept a secret. Not when everyone knew everyone’s business and the sheriff’s blotter in the local newspaper was the highlight of the week. “Nothing we can’t handle.” She hoped. The rustlers had to slip up soon and be caught. Preferably before she went out of business.

“I couldn’t help but notice your advertisement in the local gazette for a ranch hand.” He planted his elbows on his desk and laced his fingers. “Or should I say, gun for hire?”

Mona sat up straighter. “Why do you ask?”

“As you well know, the bank has an interest in everything that goes on with their investments. If something were to happen to you or the ranch, we stand to lose money.”

“That’s true. But nothing is going to happen to me or the ranch.”

“We at the bank disagree.” He leaned forward. “Advertising a gun-for-hire only reinforced our opinion that you’re in over your head.”

Did the man think her stupid? Was he carrying a mouse in his pocket? “We, or you, Mr. Kuhn?” Mona stood, anger pushing her blood pressure skyward. Not good for the baby.

His brows rose and he eased to his feet. “The bank, of course. Not me personally.”

“Right.” Mona held out the check she’d come to deliver. “I came to make my mortgage payment.”

The man stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’m afraid that isn’t enough. You do realize your mortgage is on a seven-year adjustable-rate plan with a balloon note at the end, do you not?”

Mona stared at the banker for a full thirty seconds. She’d spent all of her time on the ranch in the saddle, not behind the desk. Her father handled the finances up until the day he died. When she took over, she’d only done what she had to do to make payments and keep money in the checking account. “No, I didn’t realize. What does it mean?”

Kuhn’s brows rose. “This is the end of the seven-year period. The balloon payment is due in less than thirty days.”

“It is?” She swallowed, her throat dry as a desert. “Can’t we roll it over into a fixed-rate loan?”

“I’m afraid not.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his face blank of all emotion. “The bank doesn’t consider you a good risk. You have thirty days to pay the balance in full or we begin foreclosure proceedings on the property.”

The ground threatened to open up and suck in Mona. With more than a little effort, she fought off that dizzy, fuzzy-headed feeling and the encroaching blackness. Instead of fainting, she squared her shoulders and faced Mr. Kuhn. “You can’t do that. We’ve done business with this bank ever since I can remember.” How much was left on the loan? Thirty, forty, fifty thousand? No way could she come up with that kind of money.

“I’m sorry, Miss Grainger, but the decision has been made.” He sat forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “Have you considered selling the ranch to someone more…capable?”

Mona’s hackles rose. Even though she’d doubted her ability lately, she sure as hell wouldn’t let Mr. Kuhn know that. “I’m perfectly capable of managing the ranch on my own.”

“How about selling to one of the oil speculators here in town? I hear Lang Oil Exploration is acquiring property.”

Stealing, more likely. Everyone who’d sold to Lang Oil lately had gotten the shaft in some way or other. And not an oil-drilling shaft.

Plucking up enough anger to make her voice strong, Mona stood. “Rancho Linda is not for sale. And for your information, I’m every bit as capable as my father was to run it.”

“I’m afraid the bank doesn’t see it that way. I’m sorry, but we won’t be renewing your loan and we won’t accept less than the payoff amount of fifty thousand one hundred and twenty-six dollars. I’ll give you thirty days to comply.”

“Thirty days? You couldn’t give me a little more time to secure financing?” Her head spun with the amount of money she’d have to come up with. Even if she sold all her remaining cattle, she wouldn’t come close to the amount she needed, and she’d be out of stock, nothing to start over with, nothing to pay the overhead.

“You’ve had seven years. We sent a payment-due notice in your last statement. I’m really surprised you haven’t come in sooner to discuss this matter with me.”

He was lying and Mona wasn’t buying it. “I never saw it.”

Jeffrey Kuhn sat behind his desk, tapping the point of a pen against his date calendar. “Are you having trouble with your mail service as well as cattle rustling?”

“Do you think I’d get this upset if I had received the notice? Don’t you think I’d have been in here much earlier, had I known?” Granted, she hadn’t had time to go through all of what she’d thought was junk mail, but she’d opened and paid her bills. If there had been a note from the bank, she’d have opened it. “Damn it, I know I haven’t gotten a single letter from you.”

Mr. Kuhn’s gray-blond brows rose. “I can’t help it if your mail isn’t getting to you. The bank stands firm. I’m sorry, Miss Grainger, my hands are tied. Unless you can come up with the payoff amount in thirty days—” he leaned over to look at the desk calendar “—that would be on the twentieth of next month—the Prairie Rock Bank will have to start foreclosure proceedings on the property.”

“I’m not believing this.”

He shrugged. “I suggest you find another financial institution rather than filing for bankruptcy. You might also consider letting go of some of your help. Like your new hire.” He glanced down at his watch, then abruptly stood. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another appointment.” He cupped her elbow with a cool, clammy palm and urged her from her chair, practically pushing her out the door.

Still too stunned to respond, Mona let him usher her out, stopping only as they emerged in the bank lobby. “Mr. Kuhn…” When she turned to confront her new nemesis, she could have stomped her foot in frustration.

Jeffrey Kuhn had left her standing alone while he smiled and greeted two men wearing expensive suits. With little more than a passing glance her way, Kuhn ushered the wealthier clients through the door of his office, closing it firmly behind them.

Well, that was that. If she needed confirmation that her uncle was right and she was fighting a losing battle, today’s news was it.

In a daze, she stumbled out into the Texas sunshine beating the heat into the top of her bare head. She plunked her straw hat in place and stared around the brick-paved Main Street of Prairie Rock, at a loss for what to do. Her feet carried her the two blocks south to Dee’s Diner near the town square. She’d left her truck parked near the diner for her lunch date with Catalina, Rosa and Fernando’s only daughter.

By the time she pushed through the swinging glass entrance of the café, perspiration beaded on her brow and upper lip and slid down between her pregnancy-enhanced breasts. Since when had walking become more difficult?

Catalina Garcia met her at the door, a mug in one hand and a carafe of aromatic coffee in the other. “Hey, sweetie.”

Mona smiled and carefully hugged her friend without spilling the coffee.

“Would you hurry it up? We don’t have all day.” Wayne Fennel sat at a table several yards away, facing Mona. His shiny new cowboy boots tapped against the linoleum-tiled floor, a scowl marring his otherwise handsome face. The guy had always been a jerk, especially as a football player in high school. Now he owned a body shop with his partner Les Newton, another equally big jerk.

Les turned to stare at Mona, barely giving her more than a glance, but his gaze ran the length of Catalina’s bare legs, a leer forming on his tanned face. A quiet and more creepy version of Wayne.

Mona wanted to throw up. Gentlemen, they weren’t. If a barroom fight was what you wanted, you could count on those two to deliver.

Catalina grimaced at Mona and tipped her head toward an empty booth in the far corner. “Take a seat by the window. I’ll get you some water just as soon as I take care of Wayne and Les.” With a flounce of her long, bleached hair, she hurried toward the two men and sloshed coffee into their mugs.

Catalina had been Mona’s friend from the day she was born. They’d been inseparable until their teens when Catalina decided she no longer wanted to be Mexican, Hispanic or anything related to Latino. In the past ten years, Catalina had done everything in her power to change her image from Hispanic to white. From gloriously black to bleached-blond hair, brown eyes gone blue with the aid of contacts, down to erasing every hint of accent from her speech. She even affected a southern drawl around eligible men from the big cities who found their way to the small Texas town.

Not Mona, she embraced everything about her mother’s Mexican legacy that she could. It was all she had left of the woman who’d died when she was only six years old.

Mona slid into a vinyl-covered booth overlooking the town square and fought the overwhelming despair washing over her. She wished her mother or father were there to help her figure out the mess she was in. What was she going to do? How could she come up with fifty thousand dollars in a month? She didn’t have two nickels to rub together in her savings, having depleted it to pay her hands and make this month’s loan payment. The sale of some of her herd was supposed to help her make next month’s payment and overhead. Now with over fifty head rustled, even making payroll was looking like a no go.