The Cattleman

Men—bad men—were chasing them down a mountain.

There was no place to hide. Nowhere to escape.

What did Nick do? He kissed her.

Beth was in his arms and her lips were smooth against his. She restored something in him that had been missing this past year. He lifted his head, unable to help the smile that spread across his face.

She looked up and behind them, steadying herself with her hands on his shoulders. “We should probably get …”

“Moving. Right. You going to be okay?” he asked, really curious if the near fall had bothered her as much as the thought of losing her had bothered him.

Small rocks skittered past their heads. “Great. More than great. Let’s go while we can.”

Choosing a path was hard. He could hear the grumbles about being caught off guard, about not doing her job, not protecting her asset.

“Am I your asset?”

“Of course you are.”

“Beth, I’ve told you this before—I can look after myself.”

And just like it had been scripted, he heard the lone shot of a gun and zipped back to the cliff wall, covering Beth’s body.

The Cattleman

Angi Morgan

ANGI MORGAN writes Mills & Boon® Intrigue novels “where honor and danger collide with love.” She combines actual Texas settings with characters who are in realistic and dangerous situations. Angi and her husband live in north Texas, with only the four-legged “kids” left in the house to interrupt her writing. They recently began volunteering for a local Labrador retriever foster program. Visit her website, angimorgan.com, or hang out with her on Facebook.

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Thanks to Ron, the best cowboy I know. Jaxon, you keep chasing those cows for your new Pops! Jan & Robin, you are my rocks! Can’t do this without you gals.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

The gun barrel burned against his right temple after being fired during the attack. Nick Burke had made a fatal mistake putting his trust in anyone. A greenhorn like Beth Conrad was his second mistake. He didn’t struggle, dropped his rifle to the ground, raised his hands to his ears and watched his captor kick his favorite weapon over the cliff.

He cringed as it whacked its way to the bottom of the ravine. “That was my best rifle.”

“You won’t need it, buddy.” Keeping the gun in place, the man frisked the small of Nick’s back.

He had no distinguishing accent. Nick hadn’t caught a close-up glimpse of their attackers until now. If this guy was helping the Mexican cartel from the US side of the border, he was the first solid lead they had come across in a year.

Where the hell is Beth? If the DEA Agent had fallen off her horse again, he might do something crazy. Or might just end up dead. What if she was hurt or worse?

Neither was his first choice of scenarios.

“So what’s the plan?” he asked, attempting to be casual. In his opinion, he pulled off not caring pretty well. He practiced it every day.

“You in a big hurry to die?”

“Been there. Recovery’s harder.”

“Got that right.” A bit of southern poked its way through that long i.

“So you’ve been shot before?”

“Shut it, this ain’t no social hour.” The guy shifted his feet, stabbing Nick’s temple with each move. “You listen up. You’re gonna take me to your horse and give me directions out of this forsaken place. Understand? Or I’m going to kill you.”

The cooling cylinder was shoved harder against his skull. Nick could feel the man’s nasally breath on his neck each time he turned. Searching for who? Nick’s partner or his own? He and Beth had followed at least two horses from the drug traffickers’ camp they’d stumbled upon. And the cloud of dust he’d seen farther up the ravine was probably his captor’s partner.

“Can’t help you, so we might as well get this over with.” Nick kept his eyes open, surveying as much as possible without moving. Still no Beth. “What are you waiting on?”

“Might be waiting on his partner.” Beth’s steady voice came from in front of them, somewhere off the trail. “But that’s not going to happen.”

“Get in front of me with your hands up or this guy’s brains spatter on the rocks.” The man shifted nervously behind him.

“Are you a mind reader? That is exactly what I was about to instruct you to do.” Half of Beth’s tall frame stepped onto the path, the other—the half that held her handgun—was still covered by a juniper tree. She stretched her neck, dipping her chin to look over the top of her sunglasses.

Nick had seen her do that before, just before she fired her weapon to prove how good she was with a gun. She actually could shoot the tip off a cactus from fifty feet. He’d told her she should be in a Wild West show with that accuracy. That was if she could ride a horse. He’d never seen anyone as petrified of the animals as her.

“Do I have to officially say it?” Beth stepped fully onto the path, presenting her gun and badge. “DEA. You’re under arrest. Drop your weapon, drop to your knees and cross your ankles.”

“I don’t get on my knees for any sweetmeat.”

“That’s too bad.” She took a step forward.

Nick noticed the tiny frustrating clinch in Beth’s jaw. “Wait. Don’t shoot him. We need this guy alive.”

The barrel slid from his temple just as Beth released her badge and took a very practiced stance to pull the trigger. Nick tried to knock his captor out of the line of fire, but out of the three rapid shots, at least one hit its target.

The sound of a bullet piercing human flesh was close to what it sounded like when an animal had to be put down. The sound of a man in pain was unique and easily recognizable. Both momentarily pierced his ears.

“You okay, Nick?” Beth held her gun on her prisoner, kicking the man’s weapon from his fingers. “I didn’t hit you, did I?”

“No. You hit him. Bad from the looks of it.”

Nick rolled him to his back. A burst of red spread across the man’s tan shirt, like he’d been hit by a paintball. The thin streak of blood trailing from the corner of his mouth changed the paintball image into something all too real. Nick tried to find a pulse with no luck, then searched for an ID. Nothing.

“Is he dead?” Beth asked, still standing instead of checking the man out for herself.

Nick stood and nodded, battling with himself over just how angry he was about to get. “This was a mistake. I should never have agreed to lead you back up here. That was the first guy who could give us information about the operation on my land. He wanted out of here. He would have gone for a deal. You didn’t have to kill him.”

“You don’t know if he would have given up anything worth trading on.” She holstered her weapon and put her arms around Nick. Almost as tall as he was, she dropped her forehead heavily on his shoulder. “Besides, I was aiming for his leg. He fell into the shot.”

His captor hadn’t fallen into the shot. Nick had pushed him into the line of fire. Their lead was gone because Nick had tried to save him. But Beth had shot him.

“I watched his partner leave in a hurry with the second horse,” she said into his shirt. “He had a gun to your head. I had to shoot. I couldn’t risk you getting hurt.”

She was being awful clingy for a federal agent. Even one he’d slept with. He held on to her arms wondering if she would lose it after killing someone.

“He wouldn’t have killed me,” he answered. “I was his ticket off this mountain.”

“I can’t really argue about this now, Nick. Any chance you’ve still got your horse or any cell reception?”

“Both. The horse is secure and I can probably climb up the ridge for a signal.” She stepped back, turning and stumbling a little. “Those damn fancy shoes are going to be the reason you break your neck up here.”

She retrieved her badge and straightened slowly, unsteady once on her feet. She leaned against the tree she’d hidden behind earlier, then turned to slip down its side, rough bark against her back.

“Good Lord, Beth! You’re shot.”

“That makes sense. I figured something was wrong since I’m about to lose my breakfast and can’t stand up anymore.”

He ripped her sleeve, and used the ends to pad the wound in her arm. “It doesn’t look too bad. Can you walk?”

“Sure. Let’s get out of here before his buddy decides to make a U-turn.” She pulled herself upright using his arm, then smiled at him. “Yeah, walking’s okay as long as you steady me. That’ll work.”

Her smile flipped a switch that he thought someone had cut the electricity to a while back. Since their night under the stars, he was always crazy with desire for her. It didn’t matter that they hadn’t seen each other for a couple of weeks. He couldn’t let her see him smile, though. He was still angry. He put his arm around her waist and started down the path to his horse.

“I realize we don’t know each other that well, but are you mad at me for getting shot?”

“Hell no. Our only lead is dead.” He honestly tried not to sound mad, but he didn’t succeed. “Hard not to be disappointed. It’s my own dang fault for letting you talk me into bringing you out here.”

“Should I have let him kill you?” She pulled away and continued walking.

He admired her strength and independence, but she didn’t belong here. Not in the raw mountains of West Texas. She didn’t even have a pair of jeans with her. She spun to face him, continuing to walk backward in her black slacks.

“Beth, get serious. It’s dangerous up here. Look where you’re going.”

“Well, you let me tell you something, Mr. Nick ungrateful Burke,” she slurred like she was drunk, waving a finger at him. She stopped a second before he would have lunged to keep her from tumbling to the uneven ground. She swayed and he was there to catch her. “Get away. I don’t need your help.”

“Sure, you don’t.” He bent, knowing that scooping her into his arms and carrying her to his horse was going to kill his recovering back. “Why do you think I’m ungrateful?”

“For one, you didn’t say thank you when I saved your life.”

“And the second?” he asked trying not to act too concerned at her swaying.

She took a deep breath and raised her finger just as her eyes rolled back in their sockets. She passed out on a long sigh and he was there, catching her before she crashed to the rocky path.

He smiled into her peaceful and gorgeous face. She couldn’t hear him and it might have been the only reason he said it, but he whispered the word, “Thanks,” and brushed his lips against hers.

After her inexperience almost got them killed twice, she was certain to be sent back to Chicago and out of his life. He didn’t have time for distractions. He had to find the men responsible for ordering his execution.

Chapter One

Nick Burke snapped awake and heard the echo of his labored panting in his ears. The faceless man shooting him in his nightmare faded, allowing him to suck some air into his lungs. A bright beam of sun snaked through his curtains and caught him in the eye.

“What the—?” His alarm was gone. But he’d set it the night before. Mom. He shoved back the hair stuck to his sweaty face and scratched his damp scalp. The sheets were drenched again. “Damn nightmares.”

He rubbed the numb skin covering the scars on his chest. No feeling in the daylight. Unlike at night when the dreams prodded and twisted a knife in the wound.

The more he tried to forget the shooting last year, the more he was surrounded by triggers. Literally. Stupid to believe he could face that demon and survive without some type of consequence. Cord had volunteered him to guide a drug task force through the mountains on his land and he’d met Beth. Then the shootout two weeks ago had almost gotten him shot a second time. He could still hear the bullet buzzing by his ear like a jet-propelled mosquito.

As a result, the nightmares had intensified.

He wouldn’t be that stupid again. Let the task force get some other dumb rancher to help. He needed to work his cattle and prepare for winter. He’d done his part and wasted enough time chasing an enemy that would never be gone. It was a fact of life he had to get past.

Living this close to the Mexican border, it didn’t matter if it was the nineteenth or twenty-first century. Cattle rustlers or gunrunners. There would always be some sort of threat out of the control of the ranch owners.

Doing everything possible to make the Rocking B successful should be his number one priority. He didn’t have the time to be distracted by the task force or nightmares...or a beautiful pair of legs.

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.

And until someone nibbled the bait, they were conducting interviews and trying to covertly connect the dots.

“No one did any arm twisting. After you saved my son’s life, on top of everything that’s been happening in these mountains, no one had to tell me you were an agent. Kate just confirmed what branch of the government you worked for. She’s almost a member of our family. And I only assumed there was a task force involved. No one told me anything.” Juliet smiled and raised her eyebrows as if asking a question.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss the investigation. I won’t ever be, even if I stay here. And your family may be in danger.”

“We already are, dear. This is a risk we’re willing to take by staying and not selling to the corporations trying to buy us out. We just need to convince Nick that you should be here.” Juliet rose, lining up the coffee pot with the sugar and creamer. “I need to get those biscuits in the oven.”

“I’m completely inadequate, especially helping in the kitchen, but I’ll try.”

“You’re not inadequate, just out of your element. Now, you wait right there for my pig-headed son,” she said.

There was no way to keep from liking Nick’s parents. Especially Juliet. Her husband had been very ill for quite some time, but the woman never had a bad word or complaint. Nick was her only child and suffered from PTSD after being shot last year. His state of mind was evident to everyone who knew him—and even those who didn’t know him well.

One night together and she’d witnessed the tension, his avoiding sleep as long as possible, the slight shaking in his hands when others spoke of the cartel.

Juliet was at the swinging door to the kitchen. “I’m very concerned because my son was shot, nearly died and then almost killed a second time. I can’t bear to think about what would have happened if you hadn’t been there. We have plenty of space in this house. It makes a lot of sense for you to stay close.”