The Millionaire Cowboy's Secret

Chapter 5



Matt swore under his breath. Next to him, José swore in Spanish. “How can we help him?”

About to suggest they rush forward, shouting and waving their arms to scare the coyotes away, Matt swallowed his words as Skylar stepped forward, brandishing her Glock.

“I can take care of this,” she said, her voice calm and measured as she sighted. Briefly he wondered if she knew how much she sounded like a cop.

“Madre de Dios.” Staring at her, José crossed himself. “How good a shot is she?”

“It’s okay,” Matt heard himself say. “She’s a crack shot. Skylar, just don’t shoot if there’s even a remote possibility of you hitting my horse.”

“Of course not,” she promised, glancing at him, disdain flashing in her green eyes. Crouching, already getting into her stance, again she inadvertently revealed that she’d had years of training and experience. Of course, the fact that he knew what she was might have made him watch her more critically.

She squeezed off a shot. Obviously, this was meant as a warning, since the bullet went harmlessly into the ground.

The coyotes got the message. Moving in unison, they turned and fled, appearing to bleed into the predawn grayness.

Now Saint reared up, screaming in challenge and fear.

“Your turn,” Skylar said, holstering her pistol. “Good luck with that.”

Giving her a nod of thanks, Matt moved forward, speaking softly to the terrified horse.

At his approach, Saint quieted, or at least stopped squealing. He still snorted, tossing his head, his large nostrils flaring, but he didn’t rear again.

Crooning softly as he approached his frightened horse, Matt reached out, moving in slow motion, and slipped the halter over the stallion’s head.

This accomplished—which felt like nothing short of a miracle, considering the level of Saint’s agitation—Matt led the huge animal over toward them.

“Let’s head back in,” Matt said, finally letting his exhaustion show.

Skylar fell into step with José, both of them giving Matt and Saint a bit of space. In silence they walked through the pasture, opening the gate and repeating the process in the next pasture.

Ahead he could see the barn still burning, though this time the flash of fire-truck lights also illuminated the gray sky. Once again, what had been a lingering odor of smoke became a thick cloud.

Saint began to balk. Only by speaking softly but with authority was Matt able to urge him on.

Finally, they reached the final pasture, which was lit by tall lights that flanked the gate.

“Now what?” José asked. “You can’t put him in the corral with the mares.”

“What about the old barn?” Matt pointed to the smaller, stone-and-wood structure on the other side of the drive. Though they hadn’t used it in a long time, the old barn was still structurally safe. There was even a reinforced stall that would be perfect for Saint.

“Good idea.” José turned sharply, nearly bumping into Skylar, who managed to sidestep neatly out of his way.

“Nice reflexes,” José commented, giving her a look Matt doubted she’d have any difficulty interpreting. José had made it clear he didn’t like her, but she’d earned his grudging respect. Still, José wanted her gone.

About to tell his friend to back down, Matt caught a glimpse of Skylar’s face and held his tongue instead.

She didn’t care. Her stubborn expression plainly said she’d leave when she felt like it.

José continued to glower at her. Instead of being cowed by his menacing glare, she shot one right back at him. To Matt’s surprise, one corner of José’s mouth finally curled up as if he were about to smile.

Truce? Whatever it was, he’d take it.

“I’ll finish up here,” Matt said. “After I get Saint up, I’ve got to get Doc Bertram to take a look at his wounds. After that, I need to have a word with the fire department. You two go on and get some rest.”

Dragging a hand across his forehead and rearranging the soot, José clearly wavered. “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.” Including Skylar in his look, Matt waved them away. “Thanks, both of you, for your assistance. Now the two of you should go on. Get some breakfast.”

“I can help with all that,” José said, looking from Matt to Skylar and back. Crossing his arms, he made it plain he had no intention of going anywhere until she left.

Ah, so the truce was already over.

“José.” Matt shook his head. “Enough, amigo. I’m going to need you alert tomorrow to handle everything while I’m passed out. So go. Please.”

“What about her?” José indicated Skylar.

Ignoring him, Skylar tilted her head and eyed Matt, plainly considering her options.

“Do you mind if I go with you?” she asked softly.

Behind her, José made a sound of discouragement.

Completely sick of the bickering, Matt shook his head. “I do mind. You go on back to your trailer. Both of you. Tomorrow, José can help me get the rest of this straightened out.”

She stiffened as if he’d slapped her. Fascinated, he watched as she visibly composed herself, finally managing a weary smile.

“Of course,” she said, interjecting a note of sympathy into her voice. “You’re right. I’m tired, too, so I’ll leave you and Saint alone. See you tomorrow.”

As she turned to leave, José stood his ground, continuing to glare at her as she walked away.

Only when she was gone did both men let out their breath in identical sighs of relief.

“I’m not going anywhere,” José said. “At least until I’ve done everything I can to help you this morning.”

Giving up, Matt led Saint over to the old barn. Once they reached it, Matt sent José out for one of the veterinarians. While he waited, he led the horse into the stallion stall and checked Saint out thoroughly. No cuts or scratches. Just a few burns.

As far as he could tell, the animal wasn’t too badly wounded, though the vet would have to check out the burns.

Now that he could no longer see the fire, Saint began to grow calmer. As he petted his long neck, Matt’s thoughts returned to Skylar.

He shook his head. Despite who and what she was, which gave her the potential to ruin his plans, he actually liked her. She’d helped a lot and proved she had a backbone. She also appeared to actually care about his horses. It was hard to dislike a woman like that, especially when she came in such a beautiful package.

Doctor Bertram hurried over, accompanied by José. “I brought Dr. Metcalf, too. He’s finishing up with your mares.”

Luckily, the vet confirmed Matt had been right about Saint. Dr. Bertram cleaned the wounds gently and applied an antibiotic salve, then bandages. “You’ll need to change these out twice a day,” he said.

José lingered in the doorway, trying to hide a yawn with his hand.

“Go home,” Matt told him. “Seriously.”

“If you’re sure...”

At Matt’s nod, José turned and left.

Once Doctor Bertram finished with the instructions, the two men headed back outside. The fire department continued to use their pumper truck to spray the flames and actually appeared to be making some headway. Of course, nothing would save the barn. All that would be left would be ashes.

“Any idea what caused this?” Dr. Bertram asked.

“No,” Matt answered shortly. “I wish I did.”

Trudging wearily up to the main corral, they joined the other vet, Dr. Metcalf. He just finished examining one of the mares.

“They all appear to be okay,” the doctor said, pushing back his baseball cap and scratching his head. “A few minor burns here and there. Oh, and that small filly had some wheezing from breathing in smoke.”

“But all in all, I think they’re going to be okay,” Dr. Bertam put in.

Matt nodded. “How much do I owe you?”

“You can settle up with us later.” The two vets looked at each other. “Call us if you need anything else, okay?”

Ignoring the weariness that threatened to overwhelm him, Matt thanked both men. “I really appreciate you two coming out here so early in the morning.”

After the vets climbed into their pickup truck and drove off, Matt went to speak with the fire chief. On the way there, he spotted the sheriff’s cruiser, which meant most likely the fire had been arson.

Hell, he thought, scratching his head, what else could it have been? There was nothing, absolutely nothing, that could have caused such a blaze.

After talking with the fire department—who strongly agreed with Skylar’s assessment of arson—and answering the sheriff’s questions, he and the remaining stable hands finally got all the mares put into either stalls or small runs with three-sided enclosures. That’d have to do until he could rebuild.

Spraying more water on what had now become smoldering embers, the fire department continued to work. They weren’t going anywhere until they were sure no hot spots remained.

Stumbling up to the house, banking a simmering fury that threatened to blaze up inside him, Matt focused on ordinary details. He made a mental note to call the insurance company later. Next up, he wanted a shower. He couldn’t wait to wash away the soot and grim and acrid odor of smoke. And then he figured he’d better eat something before he began what promised to be a very long day.

He made it up three of his patio steps when a figure detached itself from the shadows and stepped in front of him.

Instinctively he dropped into a battle stance.

“It’s only me.” Skylar’s husky voice didn’t sound the least bit apologetic.

Relaxing slightly, he exhaled and dipped his chin in acknowledgment. Eyeing her, he couldn’t help wondering how on earth she still managed to look so gorgeous and sexy after a few hours straight from hell. “What are you doing here? I’d have thought you’d be on your second or third cup of coffee by now.”

“I had enough.” Dropping one slender shoulder in a graceful shrug, she studied him. “I took another shower and saw you staggering across the yard. I came to see if I could help you with anything else. You look awful.”

“Thanks. I feel pretty crappy.” Dragging a hand through his hair, he wasn’t surprised to find soot on his fingers. “Though I appreciate your offer, I’ve done all I can for now. I’m running on fumes. I need to go take a shower and get some breakfast. I suggest you do the same.”

Opening her mouth as though she were about to speak, she apparently thought better of it. “All righty, then. See you later,” she said, giving him a small, jaunty wave as she strolled away.

Despite his exhaustion, part of him stood at attention as he watched her go. Where she got her energy, he didn’t know. As for him, he was done in.

Turning, he went inside, heading straight to a hot shower, dropping his filthy clothes in a heap on the floor. After a hot shower, he made a quick trip to the kitchen, where he grabbed a steaming mug of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal.

He’d barely finished eating before sound from outside had him pushing away his plate. Standing, he took a deep breath. As he did, the enormity of what had happened hit him.

Moving toward the window, his entire body sore and aching, he grimaced. Another kink in his plan, he thought, realizing there would have to be an investigation. His ranch would be crawling with law-enforcement and fire department personnel, as well as insurance adjusters and investigators. There’d be no deals with Diego Rodriguez or anyone else for a few weeks at least.

“Damn,” he cursed. All his carefully laid plans were now in freakin’ ashes, just like his barn.

Whoever had done this had to have known what would happen. This would not only put a damper on his ability to con Diego Rodriguez into believing he wanted to sell him ammo, but the delay would play exactly into ATF’s hands, giving them a better chance to catch him red-handed, selling ammunition to the Mexicans.

* * *

After she left Matt, Skylar wandered back to her trailer. She greeted an agitated and confused Talia, put her on a leash and then went outside. She sat on the steps, watching the sunrise and waiting to see the full extent of the damage. The air, which should have smelled of grass and horses, was still tainted by smoke.

She felt restless, lonely and aching. Normally, thinking of the happy life she’d once had brought on this kind of melancholy. But this time, she hadn’t been thinking of her husband and son. She’d been thinking about Matt and the beautiful, terrified horses.

She’d experienced all kinds of evil in her career, first as a police officer and then as a federal agent. She thought she’d grown a thick shell, able to unflinchingly experience the various malevolent wickedness of humanity.

Except for children and animals. Innocents who couldn’t protect themselves had no place in the immoral battles of evil men.

She’d reviewed the case files and gone over every possible scenario, from the cartel guys swarming the ranch with guns blazing to Matt trying to run a truck full of ammo secretly into Mexico.

What she hadn’t foreseen was the possibility that they’d attack the horses. Again the scene replayed in her mind—the terrified animals, the panicked screams of the stallion, and the fire, brutal and uncaring and swift.

Skylar took her oath to protect and uphold the law seriously. She would have died trying to get the horses out. In fact, she could have died. Only by the capricious grace of fate had she been able to escape unscathed.

Matt had been the only person there who’d shared her exact same determination. And while she intellectually knew that most men were complex and had many sides, for the first time she couldn’t reconcile the two. How could a man who cared so much for his horses be involved with the brutal Mexican drug cartels?

While she was an old hand at working undercover, never before had the lines been so blurred. Usually, it was pretty easy to tell the bad guy from the good. And while even villains had their reasons and never seemed to view themselves as evil, she’d always been able to spot them a mile away.

Not this time. José, maybe. But Matt? The more she was around him, the more difficult it was to imagine him doing something like selling munitions to the Mexican cartel with full knowledge of what they’d do with the bullets.

As an ATF agent and, more specifically, as a grieving wife and mother, she knew exactly what kind of harm bullets could do. This was one of the reasons she’d left the police force to work for the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms.

Sighing, she shifted her weight on the bottom step. Talia whined, her brown gaze fixed on her mistress. Absently, Skylar scratched the dog’s neck, letting her pet know not to worry. With a sigh, the border collie sank to the ground and, resting her head on her paws, dozed.

Once again, Skylar experienced the gut-wrenching pain of losing her son. She blinked, trying not to remember the sight of his still, small body covered in blood. At that moment—hell, at any moment—if she’d been able to change places and die in his place, she would have.

As her eyes filled with tears, she clenched her teeth. Focus. Focus. She had a job to do and she’d damn well do it right. If Matt Landeta truly was guilty of selling ammunition illegally to the Mexicans, she’d make the bust. No matter how much she liked him.

As the sun rose higher in the cloudless sky, Skylar tried to puzzle out the problem. She couldn’t afford a mistake with potentially the biggest bust of her career.

So what was wrong? Ever since the bank holdup that had robbed her of everything, she’d made a habit of being brutally honest with herself. She wouldn’t change that now.

She zeroed in on the one aberration. Her attraction to Matt. This had taken her by surprise. Clearly, she hadn’t planned to find him so...desirable. Unlike with his friend José, she couldn’t make herself see him in the role of villain.

What she could make herself see him as was her lover.

Shocked, blindsided by the heretical thought, she gasped out loud. She hadn’t taken a lover since Robbie had died, and the idea that she could even think of having sex again with a man who wasn’t her husband felt like the worst kind of betrayal.

Once again, despite the fact that she’d eventually stopped the therapy, she could hear her therapist reminding her that she was only human. Her body had needs and she could only suppress them for so long. Eventually, she’d have to live again.

While she knew this objectively, for so long she’d taken to regarding herself as only a police officer, then an ATF agent. Not as a woman.

Dropping her head into her hands, she inhaled the air, still laden with smoke and water and soot, and quietly wept.

Then, calling herself several kinds of fool, she got up. Calling Talia, she climbed the steps and went inside the trailer, undressed and climbed into bed. As if a nap would fix what was wrong with her.

She lay there unmoving, wide-awake, as sunshine claimed the sky. Finally, sometime after noon, she dropped into a restless slumber, her beloved dog on the bed next to her.

The sound of knocking woke her. Talia barked, jumping to the floor and standing guard at the door. Blearily sitting up in bed, Skylar rubbed at her heavy eyes and glanced at the clock.

“Two-thirty?” That couldn’t be right. She hadn’t slept that late in years.

Again someone banged on her door, this time with a bit more urgency. Now she understood why—she’d overslept.

“Hang on,” she said loudly, readjusting the giant Dallas Cowboys T-shirt she slept in.

Figuring she looked presentable for someone who had, only seconds before, been dead asleep, she opened the door, blinking at the bright sunshine.

Matt. Of course. He frowned up at her, his beautiful blue eyes full of worry.

Damn. How did the man manage to look so fantastic after the ordeal they’d just been through? She swallowed hard. “You look good,” she blurted, mentally wincing. “I mean, considering...”

His mouth twitched, but to his credit, he didn’t laugh. “Thanks,” he said gravely. “Did I, er, wake you?”

Briefly she thought about lying and saying no, but since it was so painfully obvious that he had, she nodded. “I got up so early this morning that I took a nap for a few hours.”

“Sorry.” His gaze roamed over her, making her conscious that she wore nothing underneath the T-shirt.

Her body reacted. She crossed her arms in defense. Beside her, tail wagging, Talia tried her best to get outside to greet Matt.

“I think your dog needs to go outside,” he pointed out.

“I’ll take care of that.”

He smiled, and her body clenched up tight in response. “Let her out. I’ll watch her.”

She stepped aside without a word. Talia barreled past her, but instead of running to the grass, she leaped on Matt, sending him staggering backward. “Talia,” she said sharply. “Go to the bathroom.”

The border collie, ever obedient, trotted off to do exactly that.

Matt moved back to the edge of the trailer steps, still staring. Was that heat she saw in his gaze? Surely not. She knew for a fact she didn’t look at all good first thing after waking up.

“Um, what did you need?”

He blinked, as though she’d brought him back to the present. “The police are here. They’ve got me rounding up anyone who might have seen anything. They want to ask you a few questions.”

“Of course.” She wished she’d taken the time to drag a comb through her hair. “I’ll need a few minutes to brush my teeth and get dressed.”

“Take your time.” Glancing at his watch, he took a step back just as Talia returned to the trailer. “José is on his way back here from his place in town, and the police are still interviewing the stable hands. Just come on up to the house when you’re ready.”

Nodding, she shut the door in his face. Her legs felt weak, so she sank back onto the bed. Beside her, Talia whined.

“It’s okay, baby girl,” she said, pulling the dog close and burying her face in Talia’s soft fur. “Let’s get you some breakfast.”

While Talia ate, Skylar jumped in the shower and took care of her normal morning tasks. She put on a light dusting of mineral powder, mascara and lip gloss. Dressing in jeans and a muted yellow T-shirt, she studied herself with a critical eye and decided she looked okay. Before she spoke to the local police, she needed to make a report.

Using her secure cell phone, she phoned in. A special voice-mail box had been set up for her to leave simple updates. She did, relaying the fire and the fact that she’d be speaking with local authorities.

Once she’d concluded the call, she took Talia out once more. After she’d made sure her dog would have plenty of water, she closed her up in the camper and headed to Matt’s house.

The men wearing uniforms were laid-back but businesslike, impressing her with their efficient questions. No, she hadn’t seen anything suspicious. Yes, she’d smelled something that might have been used to start the fire, though she had no idea what that might have been. They finished with asking her to supply her address and phone number in case they had any further questions.

Through it all, she was super conscious of Matt leaning in the door frame, listening to her answers.

José arrived a few minutes after she’d finished, and when the police began questioning him, Skylar moved off to stand next to Matt.

“I heard from the arson investigator,” he said.

“Already?” She was surprised. In her experience such findings usually took a few days.

“He’s not busy,” he explained. “He used to work for Dallas Fire and Rescue, but retired and moved down here. Now he volunteers whenever he’s needed. This is the first time they’ve had to call him.”

“What did he find out?”

“Arson.” Matt’s eyes narrowed. “Someone really wanted to hurt my horses.”

“And hurt you, too,” she said, instinctively touching his arm. When she saw the way his gaze darkened as he followed her movement, she hurriedly removed her hand.

“Do you have any idea why?” she asked softly, wondering what, if anything, he’d choose to reveal.

“No.” Of course, he gave away nothing.

Before she could comment, José called his name, waving him over.

“Excuse me,” he said and left her without another word.

Watching him go, she kept her expression pleasant. What had she expected? Him to open up about his enemies?

Slipping from the room, she headed back to her trailer to spend some quality time with her dog. After that, she’d best get busy concocting some sort of plan.

A quick game of ball helped relieve some of the tension. Up at the main house, she saw Matt and José emerge. She watched, game forgotten, as the two men climbed into the pickup and drove away. Her heart began to race. This would be her opportunity to search the house. Since the police and fire department were still questioning people and milling around, all of the household help would be distracted and preoccupied.

There couldn’t be a more perfect opportunity.

Locking Talia back in the trailer, she made herself walk normally, as though she had forgotten something and needed to talk to the authorities again. As far as she knew, Matt never locked the back door, so she went through the patio, unable to keep from smiling at the lush scenery.

Once inside, she noted Matt had left the curtains open, allowing lots of light to flood in. Grateful, she did a quick search in the kitchen, still experiencing that gut-wrenching reaction of coming home. This time, better prepared, she didn’t bother to try to analyze the feeling, but continued her methodical search.

What exactly she hoped to find, she didn’t know. Something—anything—that might give her a clue as to where he kept the ammo stored or his reason for purchasing such large quantities.

Part of her—a tiny, really idiotic part—hoped to find something that would exonerate him.

She made quick work out of checking the kitchen and moved on to the den. This room also had few hiding places and she didn’t really expect to find anything there.

Matt’s study or office or bedroom—now, that was another matter. She guessed he probably had a safe and would keep any important papers there. If she found a safe, she’d be out of luck; she lacked the necessary skills to crack it. Plus, she hated to do anything without a warrant, as any evidence she found would be inadmissible in court.

In reality, she knew this search was probably a pointless waste of time, but she had to make the attempt. If she found something, she’d get the necessary warrant then.

After all, she had to have something proactive to put in her report.

Finished with the downstairs part of the house, she moved quietly to the stairs. Outside, the sun was still strong and she knew she’d need to stay away from windows, as she’d present a clear figure to anyone outside.

Upstairs there were several bedrooms. She did a cursory search of all three before moving on to what had to be Matt’s personal office.

A desk, empty of clutter, revealed nothing. As she suspected, she located a small wall safe behind a Western landscape painting, but the lock wasn’t engaged and the door sat open a half inch. The inside of the safe was empty.

The rest of the office turned up nothing. Glancing at her watch, she realized she’d burned through an hour. She still had Matt’s bedroom to search, so she’d better get a move on.

Crossing the hall, she hesitated in front of the only room she hadn’t visited. Strangely reluctant—this felt like a violation of the worst kind—she took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Immediately, his scent assaulted her. She found it odd that she could smell him so intensely—the scent wasn’t cologne or aftershave, but rather a personal mixture of spearmint and the grassy fields.

Shaking off her nervousness, she crossed to his nightstand and pulled open the door.

“Looking for something?” Matt drawled from less than a foot away.