One Night with a Red-Hot Rancher: Tough to Tame / Carrying the Rancher's Heir / One Dance with the Cowboy

CHAPTER SEVEN

CAPPIE COULD almost imagine what sort of story Frank had told Bentley. But now she understood his anger.

“I can explain,” she began.

“You told me Friday night that you had an ex-boyfriend,” he said icily. “I didn’t get to hear the rest of the story, but Bartlett was kind enough to fill me in. You accused him of assaulting you and had him arrested. He actually spent time in jail and now he has a felony record because of you.”

Her eyes widened. “Yes, but that isn’t what happened…!”

“I know all about women who like to play with men,” he interrupted. “When I was in my early twenties, I worked for a veterinarian while I was in college. It supplemented my grants and scholarships. He had a vet tech who was very pretty, but never got dates. I felt sorry for her. She could only work for him part-time, because I had the full-time position. She stayed late one weekend and teased me into kissing her. Then she very calmly tore her shirt, messed up her hair and phoned the police.”

Cappie felt her face go pale.

“She wanted my job,” Bentley continued cynically. “I dipped into my savings to hire a private detective, who discovered that it wasn’t the first time she’d pulled that stunt. She was arrested and my record was cleared. The vet hired me back in a heartbeat and spent years trying to make it up to me.”

“I had no idea,” she whispered.

“Of course not, or you wouldn’t have tried the same stunt on me.”

She blinked in disbelief. “What?”

“You were always talking about what you’d do if you had money. You knew I was well-to-do. When were you going to accuse me of assaulting you? Have you got a lawyer waiting in the wings to sue me?”

She couldn’t believe her ears. He actually thought she was playing him for cash. Frank had lied to him, and with his background, Bentley had fallen for the tall tale.

“I’ve never accused anyone falsely,” she defended herself.

“Only Frank Bartlett?”

She swallowed, hard. “He broke my arm,” she said with quiet dignity. “It wasn’t the first time he hit me, either.”

“He told me you’d say that,” he replied. “Poor guy. You ruined his life. Well, you aren’t going to get the chance to ruin mine. You can work your two weeks’ notice.” He got to his feet.

“You’re firing me?” she asked weakly.

“No, you’re quitting,” he returned coldly. “That way, you won’t be able to let the state support you with unemployment insurance, or sue me for unlawful termination of employment.”

“I see.”

“Women,” he muttered coldly. “You’d think I’d already learned my lesson. You all look so innocent. And you all lie.”

He opened the door. “Back to work, Miss Drake,” he said in a formal tone. “It’s going to be a long day.”

She worked mechanically, even managed to smile at old Mr. Smith’s jokes and Dr. King’s bland comments. Keely was looking at her oddly, but nobody else seemed to find her behavior out of the ordinary.

At the end of the day, she went to her car almost gratefully. She still couldn’t believe that Dr. Rydel had fallen for Frank’s lies. But she was going to do something about it. She just didn’t know what. Yet.

She pulled up in the front yard, puzzled at the colorful cloth piled at the foot of the steps. Was Kell cleaning house…?

She slammed on the brakes, cut off the engine and ran as fast as she could to the front door. That wasn’t a bundle of cloth, it was Kell. Kell! He was unconscious, lying beside the wreck of his wheelchair and he was bleeding from half a dozen cuts. She felt for a pulse and, thank God, found one! At least he was still alive.

She saw the front door standing open and didn’t dare go inside, for fear someone might be waiting there. She ran back to her car, jerked out her cell phone and punched in 911. Then she ran back to Kell and waited.

The next hour was a blur of ambulance sirens, police sirens, blue uniforms, tan uniforms and abject terror.

She waited for Dr. Micah Steele to come out and tell her what Kell’s condition was. She was sick and chilled to the bone. If Kell died, she’d have nobody.

He came back out to the waiting room a few minutes after Kell was brought in, tall and blond and somber.

“How is he?” she asked frantically.

“Badly beaten,” he told her, “which you already know. His back is one long bruise. We’re still doing tests, but he has some feeling in his legs, which indicates that the shrapnel in his back may have shifted. If the tests verify that, I’m having him transported to the medical center in San Antonio. I have a friend who’s an orthopedic surgeon there. He’ll operate.”

“You mean, Kell could walk again?” she asked, excited.

He smiled. “Yes.” The smile faded. “But that’s not my immediate concern. He said there were three men. One of them was a man you’ve had dealings with, I understand. Frank Bartlett.”

“Beating up a paralyzed man, with a mob,” she gritted. “What a brave little worm he is!”

“Sheriff ’s got an all-points bulletin out for him and his friends,” Micah told her. “But you’re in danger until they’re found. You can’t stay out there at the house by yourself.”

“If you send Kell to San Antonio,” she said, “I’ll call a friend who works for the same veterinary practice that employed me until I moved here. She’ll let me stay with her.”

“You’ll have to be in protective custody,” Micah said firmly.

She smiled. “Her brother is a Texas Ranger. He lives with her.”

“Well!”

“I’ll call her as soon as I see Kell.”

“That will be another twenty minutes,” he said. “We have to finish the tests first. But he’s going to be fine.”

“Okay. Thanks, Dr. Steele.”

He smiled. “Glad I can help. I like Kell.”

“I do, too.”

She phoned Brenda Banks in San Antonio. Brenda’s brother, Colter, was a Texas Ranger. He’d been based out of Houston until his best friend, a Houston police officer named Mike Johns, was killed trying to stop a bank robbery. Colter had asked for reassignment to Company D of the Texas Rangers, based in Bexar County, and moved in with his sister. Since Company D now had an official Cold Case sergeant, Colter applied for and obtained the job. Brenda said he loved solving old cases.

She tried the apartment, first, and sure enough, Brenda was at home and not at work. “How do you like your new job?” Brenda asked when she heard Cappie’s voice.

“I like it a lot. Do you still have a spare bedroom, and is there a job opening there at the vet clinic?”

“Oh, dear.”

“Yes, well, things didn’t work out as well as I hoped,” Cappie said quietly. “Frank and a couple of friends came down and almost beat Kell to death. He’s on his way up to San Antonio for back surgery and I need a place to stay, just until after the surgery. They wanted me in protective custody, but I told them Colter lived with you…”

“You poor kid! You can come and stay as long as you like,” Brenda said at once. “But Colter’s out of the country on a case. He has an apartment of his own now. What’s that about Kell?” she asked worriedly. “Is he going to be all right?”

“He’s just banged up, mostly,” Cappie said, “but the shrapnel in his back has shifted and he has feeling in his legs. They may be able to operate.”

“What a blessing in disguise,” the other woman said quietly. “But what about you? Don’t tell me Frank went to your house just to beat up your brother.”

“He was probably looking for me,” she confessed. “But he’d already done enough damage to my working relationship with my new boss. I don’t have a job anymore, either.”

“I’ll ask Dr. Lammers about something part-time,” she said immediately. “I know they’d love to have you back. The new tech doesn’t have the dedication to the job that you had, and doesn’t show up for work half the time, either. I’ll phone her right now. Meanwhile, you come on up here. You know where the spare key’s kept.”

“Thanks a million, Brenda.” Her voice was breaking, despite her efforts to control it.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” Brenda said gently. “If there’s anything I can do, anything at all, you just tell me.”

Cappie swallowed. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too. You just hang on. Get Kell up here and then come on yourself. We’ll handle it. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll phone Dr. Lammers right now.” She hung up.

Cappie went back to the waiting room and sat, sad and somber, while she waited for the test results and a chance to talk to Kell.

Dr. Steele was smiling when he came back. “I think it’s operable,” he said. “I’m going to send Kell to San Antonio by chopper. It’s quicker and it will be easier on his back. We don’t want that shrapnel to shift again. You can see him, just for a minute. Want to fly up with him?”

“Yes, if I can,” she said.

He nodded toward Kell’s room. “Cash Grier is in there with him. He wants a word with you, too.”

“Okay. Thanks, Dr. Steele.”

She opened the door and walked in. Cash Grier was leaning against the windowsill, very somber. Kell looked terrible, but he smiled when she bent over to kiss him.

“Dr. Steele thinks they may be able to operate,” she told him.

“So I heard.” He smiled. “I don’t know how I’ll afford it, but maybe they take IOUs.”

“You get better before you worry about money,” she said firmly. “We can always sell the car.”

“Sure, that will pay for my aspirin,” Kell chuckled.

“Stop that. It’s going to work out,” she said firmly. “Hi, Chief,” she greeted Cash.

“Hi, yourself. Your ex-boyfriend was after you,” he said without preamble. “He won’t quit. He knows he’ll go back to jail for what he did to Kell. He’ll get you, if he can, before we catch him.”

“I’m going to fly up to San Antonio with Kell,” she said slowly, “and I’ll be staying with my best friend. Her brother’s a Texas Ranger.” She didn’t add that he was out of town. After all, Cash wouldn’t know. But would she be putting Brenda in danger, just by being there?

“Colter’s out of the country, and Brenda doesn’t own a weapon,” Cash said, stonefaced. He nodded when she gasped. “I know Colter. I used to be a Texas Ranger, too. We’ve kept in touch. You don’t want to put Brenda in the line of fire.”

“I was just worrying about that.” She bit her lower lip. “Then what do we do?”

“You stay in a hotel near the hospital,” he said. “We’re sending security up to watch you.”

“Police officers from here?” she wondered.

“Not really,” Cash said slowly. “Actually Eb Scott is detailing two of his men to stay with you. One is just back from the Middle East, and the other is waiting for an assignment.”

“Mercenaries,” she said softly.

“Exactly.”

She looked worried.

“They’re not the sort you see in movies,” Kell assured her. “These guys have morals and they only work for good causes, not just for money.”

“Do you know the men?” she asked him.

He hesitated.

“I know them,” Cash said at once. “And you can trust them. They’ll take care of you. Just go with Kell to the hospital and they’ll meet you there.”

She frowned. “I’ll have to phone somebody at my office, to tell them what’s happened.”

“Everybody at your office already knows what happened,” Cash told her. “Well, except your boss,” he added, just when her heart had skipped two beats. “He had to fly to Denver on some sort of personal business. Something to do with his stepfather.”

“Oh.” It was just as well, she thought. Now she wouldn’t have to see him again. Kell didn’t know Dr. Rydel had fired her, but this wasn’t really the time to tell him. It could wait. “What about our house?”

“Kell gave me the key,” he said. “I’ll get it to Keely. She’ll make sure the lights are off and everything’s locked up and the fridge is cleaned out.”

“I don’t want to live there anymore,” she told Kell in a subdued tone.

“We don’t have to make decisions right now,” he replied, wincing as he moved. “Hell, I think it was better when I couldn’t feel my legs!”

“You’ll enjoy walking again,” Cappie said gently. “Kell, it would be like a miracle. At least some good would have come out of all this.”

“Just what I was thinking.” He smiled at her. “Now don’t worry. It’s going to work out.”

“Yes, it is,” Cash agreed. “Rick Marquez is going to make sure every cop in San Antonio has a personal description of Frank Bartlett, and he’s talked to a reporter he knows at one of the news stations. Your nemesis Frank is going to be so famous that if he walks into a convenience store, ten people are going to tackle him and yell for the police.”

“Really? But why?”

“Did I mention that there’s a reward for his capture?” Cash added. “We took up a little collection.”

“How kind!”

“You should stay here,” Cash said seriously. “It’s a good town. Good people.”

Her face closed up. “I’m not living in any town that also houses Dr. Rydel.”

Cash and Kell exchanged a long look.

“But Kell might like to stay,” she added.

Kell wondered what was going on. Cappie had been crazy about her boss until today. “I think we need to have a talk about why you’re down on your boss,” he told her.

“Tomorrow,” she said. “First thing.”

“I’ll probably be in surgery tomorrow, first thing,” Kell replied.

She smiled wanly. “Then I’ll tell you while you’re unconscious. When do we leave?” she added.

Kell wanted to argue, but they’d given him something for pain, and he was already drooping. “As soon as the helicopter gets here. Need anything from the house? I’m sure Cash would run you over there.”

She shook her head. “I’ve got my purse and my phone. Oh, here’s the house key,” she added, pulling it off her key ring and handing it to Cash. “I know you gave Kell’s to Keely, but you may need mine. Thanks a lot.”

“If you need anything, you can call Keely. She’ll run it up to you, or her husband or her sister-in-law will.”

“I’ll do that.”

“And try not to worry,” Cash added, moving away from the window. “Things always seem darkest before the dawn. Believe me, I should know,” he added with a smile. “I’ve seen my share of darkness.”

“You’re a wonderful police chief,” she told him.

“Another good reason to stay in Jacobs County,” he advised.

“We can agree to disagree on that point,” she replied. “I might reconsider if you’d lock Dr. Rydel up and throw away the key.”

“Can’t do that. He’s the best veterinarian around.”

“I guess he is, at that.”

Cash wisely didn’t add to his former statement.

The trip in the helicopter was fascinating to Cappie, who’d never flown in one, despite Kell’s years in the military. She’d had the opportunity, but she was afraid of the machines. Now, knowing that it was helping to save Kell’s legs, she changed her opinion of them.

She sat quietly in her seat, smiling at the med techs, but not talking to them. She’d had just about all she could stand of men, she decided, for at least the next twenty years. She only hoped and prayed that Kell would be able to walk again. And that somebody would find Frank Bartlett before he came back to finish what he’d started.

Bentley Rydel walked into his office three days later, out of sorts and even more irritable than he’d been when he left. His stepfather had suffered a stroke. It hadn’t killed him, but he was temporarily paralyzed on one side and in a nursing home for the foreseeable future. Bentley had tracked down the man’s younger brother and made arrangements to fly him to Denver to look after his sibling. All that had taken time. He didn’t begrudge giving help, but he was still upset about Cappie. Why had he been stupid enough to get involved with her? Hadn’t he learned his lesson about women by now?

The office hadn’t officially opened for business; it was ten minutes until it did. He found every employee in the place standing behind the counter glaring at him as if he’d invented disease.

His eyebrows arched. “What’s going on?” His face tautened. “Cappie’s suing me for asking her to quit, is she?” he asked with cold sarcasm.

Dr. King glared back. “Cappie’s in San Antonio with her brother,” she said. “Her ex-boyfriend and two of his friends beat Kell within an inch of his life.”

He felt the blood drain out of his face. “What?”

“They’ve got Cappie surrounded by police and volunteers, trying to keep the same thing from happening to her,” Keely added curtly. “Sheriff Carson checked into Frank Bartlett’s background and found several priors for battery against women, but nobody was willing to press charges until Cappie did. She wasn’t exactly willing at that—her brother forced her to, when she got out of the hospital. Bartlett beat her bloody and broke her arm. She said that she’d probably be dead if Kell hadn’t managed to knock out Bartlett in time.”

He felt as if his throat had been cut. He’d believed the man. How could he have done that to Cappie? How could he have suspected her of such deceit? She’d been the victim. Bentley had believed the lying ex-boyfriend and fired Cappie. Now she was in danger and it was his fault.

“Where is she?” he asked heavily.

“She told us not to tell you,” Dr. King said quietly. “She doesn’t want to see you again. In fact, she’s got her old job back in San Antonio and she’s going to live there.”

He felt sick all over. No, she wouldn’t want to stay in Jacobs County now. Not after the job Bentley had done on her self-esteem. It had probably been hard for her to trust a man again, having been physically assaulted. She’d trusted Bentley. She’d been kind and sweet and trusting. And he’d kicked her in the teeth.

He didn’t answer Dr. King. He looked at his watch. “Get to work, people,” he said in a subdued tone.

Nobody answered him. They went to work. He went into his office, closed the door and picked up the telephone.

“Yes?” Cy Parks answered.

“Where’s Cappie?” he asked quietly.

“If I tell you, I’ll have to change my name and move to a foreign country,” Cy replied dryly.

“Tell me anyway. I’ll buy you a fake mustache.”

Cy chuckled. “Okay. But you can’t tell her I sold her out.”

“Fair enough.”

Cappie was worn-out. She’d been in the waiting room around the clock until Kell was through surgery, and it had taken a long time. The chairs must have been selected for their comfort level, she decided, to make sure nobody wanted to stay in them longer than a few minutes. It was impossible to sleep in one, or even to doze. Her back was killing her. She needed sleep, but she couldn’t leave the hospital until she knew Kell was out of the recovery room.

Beside her, two tall, somber men sat waiting also. One of them was dark-eyed and dark-headed, and he never seemed to smile. The other one had long blond hair in a ponytail and one pale brown eye and an eye-patch on the other. He was good-natured about his disability and referred to himself as Dead-Eye. He chuckled as he said it. She didn’t know their names.

Detective Sergeant Rick Marquez had dropped by earlier in the day to talk to her about Frank Bartlett’s family and friends. She did know about Frank’s sister, but she hadn’t met any of his friends. Detective Marquez was, she thought, really good-looking. She wondered why he didn’t have a steady girlfriend.