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One Tough Cowboy Page 3
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His eyes narrowed. “I’m working on it, Sam. Let me deal with it. Will you be selling the house?” he asked quietly.
She sighed and furrowed her brows. It would sell rather easily. A great starter home. Small, well-maintained, two-bedroom home on a lovely three-acre plot of land. It had briefly crossed her mind. The memories were too bright, the pain too raw to seriously think about it at the moment. “I don’t know yet. I had thought about it, but now … I don’t know. Stop evading the question.”
“I’m not evading. I told you, I’m investigating. This is just not something you need to poke around in.”
Oh really? Narrowing her eyes on him, she stared back, assuring him that wasn’t going to happen. “Yeah? Well, too bad. I’m poking.” The decision had already been made. She wasn’t leaving, she couldn’t leave, until she knew what had happened to her aunt.
He watched her intently, as if he was sizing her up.
“Look, Hunter. I know you don’t know me anymore. I’m not that kid you liked to tease. I’m an officer with the Detroit PD now and—”
“I should have expected as much,” Hunter interrupted. He wasn’t smiling, however. That’s okay. She wasn’t either. She was dead serious.
“And … I’m here to find out what happened to my aunt,” she continued. “I know there’s a connection to your uncle and Lillian Henderson. You have to see that.”
“How long are you on leave?” His gentle words contradicted his hard expression and the sharp intent in his gaze.
She braced herself and looked him in the eye. He may try to run her off, he may even call Captain Bradshaw. Either way, he’d better be ready for a fight. “Officially, I have two weeks. I’m not leaving until I set this straight.”
She held her ground under his intense glare, refusing to break eye contact.
“Fine.”
Well, that was unexpected. “So, Sheriff, are you gonna work with me or am I gonna have to fight you every step of the way?”
The corner of his mouth curved into a slow smile. “No, Pixie, I’m not gonna fight you. You can work with me, however. My town. My rules.”
“Psh, the hell with that. It’s my town too.” It always had been, whether she lived there or not, it was home.
“God, you’re still such a pest.” His mischievous grin irked her, and she narrowed her eyes. “I’m the one with the authority here, Sam.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t make me any less qualified or skilled to help with this investigation. Someone killed my aunt, Hunter!” she hissed.
“Someone killed my uncle, Samantha.” His voice was deep and held an edge of growing anger. The muscle in his jaw pulsed as he clenched his jaw.
Samantha uncrossed her arms but didn’t reach out to him. She had been so self-centered, so wrapped up in her mission that she hadn’t considered his pain.
“I know. You’re right. I’m sorry.”
His body remained as rigid. “So, yes. I get it, but you will do things my way. This town is my responsibility, and while I’m as eager to uncover all this shit as you are, this is gonna take finesse and time.”
It wasn’t just her arguing with him that caused the frustration she saw in his expression. “Okay.”
His shoulders relaxed a bit. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you out of the loop. Hell, you and I are the loop.”
She nodded, wondering if he would really keep her informed, or was he just placating her? The Hunter she knew was extremely protective and wasn’t above keeping things from her if he thought there was even a remote chance she could get hurt. Maybe that wasn’t so bad when she was a starry-eyed teenager. Now, she was quite capable of taking care of herself. She didn’t have tight abs, her muscles weren’t defined and prominent. Having a body that was curvy and feminine gave her an edge. People didn’t expect her to be physically strong, quick, or dexterous. She was all three and tactful enough to know how to use those qualities most productively.
“Hunter, I trust your word.” She knew his word was important to him. He knew she was using that fact too, judging by the way he narrowed his eyes. “Please, don’t make me regret it.”
He rolled his eyes and changed the subject. “Do you like living in Detroit?”
She had to think about it for a moment. Honestly she had, but being home reminded her of all the things she missed by living in a highly populated, metropolitan city. “Detroit is a great city. So much history, culture, and art. There’s always something to do. It’s Motown! The Motor City!” She grinned.
“Yes, it is. But you didn’t answer my question.” Hunter lifted a brow.
With a sigh, Samantha looked around the room at the things that reminded her of her youth and a part of herself that she’d left behind when they’d moved away. The truth was, she felt whole here. “Yes. I like living in Detroit. I love being a cop.” She met his gaze. “But Deerhaven is a part of me that I didn’t even realize I missed.”
He smiled at her then. That crooked, sexy smile that always made her feel like she was the only girl in the world he smiled at that way. He made her feel special. She smiled back, wondering just how many women felt special because Hunter Steele graced them with his wicked smile. “I better head out; I’ve stayed too long already. The hens will be talkin’ about how long my truck sat in your driveway.”
Samantha laughed, following him to the door. “Since when have I cared what anyone thought or said about me?”
“Point taken.” He stopped, turned to face her, and to her surprise he pulled her into his arms. “It’s good to see you again, Pixie.”
A moment passed, maybe two, before she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him back. His warmth enveloped her, and she breathed in the scent of him. The embrace had already passed casual. She pulled away, but he didn’t completely release her. “Good to see you too.” Her voice was way too breathy sounding. Lord.
He pressed his lips to her forehead then met her gaze. She watched in fascination as they darkened and turned stormy. She opened her mouth to say something, and he lowered his head and kissed her. A small kiss, lingering only seconds, but the impact was powerful. When he let her go, she felt suddenly cold.
“Come by the station Monday morning.” There was an edge to his voice, rough and dark. She couldn’t let herself analyze it.
Even as the thought bloomed in her mind, she knew she would. She’d be thinking about that simple kiss all night. Dammit.
“Okay.” She nodded, folding her arms over her chest.
He turned and opened the door. “If you need anything, call me.” He walked out onto the porch. “Lock up.”
“I will.” She fought her desire to ask him to stay.
“Good night, Sam.”
“Good night, Hunter.” He pulled the door shut, and she chained and bolted it. Samantha walked into the spotless kitchen, her body humming with arousal. She ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. Sleep was definitely going to be hard to achieve tonight.
chapter two
Hunter shook his head, sitting in his truck, watching Sam’s silhouette through the windows as she moved through the house. Just keeping an eye on her, he told himself. The circumstances behind her aunt’s death weren’t sitting well with him, and that worried him. It made him worry for her.
Sam would protest that she could take care of herself, and no doubt, she could in most circumstances. But he couldn’t seem to help the impulse, couldn’t help following the movement of her shadow from one window to the other, and wish he were in there with her.
A grin tipped his lips at the thought. In the little time he’d spent with her since she’d been back in town, she’d fascinated him. She was quick. She was smart. And she was damned dangerous to a man’s heart if he wasn’t careful.
It didn’t help that he’d missed her with a surprising strength when she’d left town all those years ago. He’d keep expecting to see her just behind him, waiting to sabotage his date to slip into some kind of mischief. And slipping into mischief was somethi
ng she’d been real good at.
As the windows went dark, he waited until the back bedroom light came on to start the Jeep and pull away. But it didn’t stop thoughts of his Pixie Pest.
He had been willing to bet she’d have a family by now. He certainly never imagined she’d be a cop. He’d imagined Sam married, maybe with a kid or two of her own. Undoubtedly no threat to his bachelorhood, or sanity, whatsoever.
Yeah, right. She had no husband or kids to protect her from him. Or him from her. Over the years what he’d seen in those pretty, wide, blue-green eyes of hers had gone from wild, innocent wonder, to yearning curiosity. Independent, badass cop or not, there was still that same sweet, mischievous innocence in her eyes along with a fiery determination that only made her all the more intriguing.
Hell yeah, he was going to be distracted. That was an understatement.
Maybe she had changed. They both had. Life had a way of doing that to everyone. But Sam was still the same in a lot of ways. He’d be willing to bet that she’d caused a ruckus or two with that balls-to-the-wall approach to anything and everything she went after. There was no doubt she was a damned good cop. It was in the way she watched everyone, gauged their actions, kept her eye on everything without seeming to. She was suspicious, and no way would she sit back and leave this investigation to him.
He almost hadn’t shown up at all. He hadn’t gone to the viewing and deftly avoided the funeral. It wasn’t all that hard to do. He needed to stay on top of this investigation, and no one was making it easy for him. Add to that, the fucked-up mess of paperwork he’d inherited with the position. It was more than fair to say he was swamped. The truth was, in spite of all that, he knew he’d have to see her. Not really sure why the idea of seeing her again put him off so badly. But it had been easy for him to follow his instinct.
Where Sam was concerned, his instinct had told him to keep a good, safe distance from anything outside the parameters of friendship.
She had been a funny kid, always getting into jams and running to him to get her out of them. She’d pretty much used him as her own personal guard dog. He hadn’t minded so much. The girl thought she was invincible and could take on the whole world. It seemed she still believed she was.
But when she came to town with her daddy to visit Dottie, everything had changed. She had just turned seventeen, but she sure as hell hadn’t looked seventeen. He’d been nearly twenty-six and engaged to Kelly. His reaction to seeing her scared the bejeezus out of him. So, he’d stayed away.
Even if he hadn’t been about to get married, he would have stayed away.
Maybe.
As tough as Sam liked to think she was now, she was still a tender, innocent little thing, and he wasn’t interested in being the one to destroy that. It was too rare. What he’d wanted to do was protect her and keep her that way forever. Damn stupid notion, that was.
His gut had been right. It never let him down. He should have heeded its warning about Kelly. Distractions like Sam were more than he needed right now anyway.
No way in hell was she going to be easy to deal with, though. If there’s one thing he knew all too well about Samantha Jolene, it was that she never let go of what she was after.
She wanted in on this investigation, and she wouldn’t let him get in her way. But his intense attraction and need to protect and shelter her made the situation dangerous. The whole combination of woman-child was messing with him on too many levels.
Ah shit.
Yeah, his fucked-up situation just got worse.
Somehow, he was going to have to ignore his libido and keep his focus on his investigation. It was too important. The last conversation he had with his uncle Zachariah, the tough, ex-marine turned sheriff who had helped raise him, played through his mind.
“I gotta tell ya, something’s up, son,” Zachariah confided in Hunter quietly as they sat on the porch of the Steele family home. “The mayor’s dirty dealin’. I can smell it.”
He spit a stream of tobacco juice off the side of the porch before leaning back in his chair. Zachariah was in his late fifties, robust and healthy, and as agile-minded as he was in the marines.
“How so?” Hunter watched him curiously. He knew Mayor Henderson all his life. The man was a sleazeball, but he never thought was a criminal sleazeball.
Zachariah shook his gray head slowly. “Not sure, but I’m tellin’ you, Hunter, I know a good deal about the man. He’s flashing money he shouldn’t have and meeting with some real slick characters of late. He’s edgy, and Lillian’s death was too suspicious to suit me. She was a fine swimmer. Granted, that don’t mean a whole hell of a lot. But that was a fishin’ pond. She didn’t care for fishin’ in the least. What the hell was she doing out at the pond?”
Zachariah’s voice had been somber. Lillian Henderson had been Zachariah’s girl before she married the other man. When Zachariah had joined the marines and gone off to war, she had married the only son of the caretaker rather than waiting for him to return.
Zachariah had never gotten over it, as far as Hunter knew. And Lillian had deeply regretted it. They’d become good friends, and Hunter had often wondered if they had been having an affair.
The possibility that his uncle’s relationship with Mrs. Henderson had something to do with his suspicions concerning the mayor had crossed his mind.
Now, Hunter wasn’t so sure.
Zachariah’s sudden “hunting” accident was just bullshit.
Hunter understood that most of the men in the area lived for hunting. Zachariah, being the outdoors-loving mountain man he was, gave the impression that he’d be a hunter.
Somebody didn’t do their research and screwed up royally on that hit. He had no doubt it was indeed a hit. Whether it was a crime of passion or something much more sinister, that was what he needed to find out.
Hunter pulled into the parking lot of the sheriff’s office and parked in his space. He sat in the gathering darkness, staring at the aging stone building that housed the jail as well as his office. That he didn’t trust his men or the mayor meant he was on his own in this investigation. He didn’t have the luxury of being less than discreet.
The few friends he had grown up with were mostly gone now. Not that he was an outsider, except in the sheriff’s department. There, he felt more and more alone and scrutinized amid the few deputies who were much too friendly with Henderson.
Shane Warren was smart, quiet, and he watched things. He had been Hunter’s only addition to the force. Shane wouldn’t be there if it hadn’t been for Hunter’s brother-in-law, Mark. Shane and his younger twin brothers, Levi and Ethan, were Mark’s nephews and he got them jobs helping Hunter keep the ranch running smoothly for a while before Uncle Zachariah was killed. But, Shane had his mind set on law enforcement, and, Shane’s mom, Mark’s sister, Gracie Anne, wasn’t able talk him out of going to the academy.
“Hire the boy,” Mark suggested quietly after Hunter took office. “He’s dependable and needs the experience.”
At the time, Hunter was well aware of the general atmosphere of insubordination that he was facing. He could try to fire them, but he knew Rodgers and Decker, the two deputies causing him the most concern, would whine to the mayor, and he’d end up being forced to reinstate them. Plus, it would be harder to keep track of them if they were there under his watch. It was best if he could just stay low-key and appear to be oblivious.
On the surface, everything looked about normal. There was the usual influx of drugs into the county. Not as much of an issue as the meth cookers up in the hills. That was a constant strain and irritation on him. There weren’t many strangers moving into town, and fewer people just driving through. Unless you counted the short, mysterious disappearances Henderson made on occasion.
Those times when he went missing were odd, though. Where the hell he went, Hunter had yet to figure out. He wouldn’t be gone long, but no one could track him down when he went poof. Usually only lasted a day at the most. No one else seemed to pay them
any mind. Hunter, however, figured it was part of all the mess that didn’t add up.
He got out of his truck and hit the lock button as his thoughts drifted back to Sam. Dammit. Despite her indecision about the house, she was a city girl. He could see it all over her. Once the real reason Dottie died was exposed and the case was closed, Hunter was pretty certain she’d go back to Detroit. Best thing for him to do was let her help him.
He drew in a deep breath, thinking about how pretty she looked standing there, enduring. Her eyes filled with sorrow, her arms wrapped around herself for comfort. She was as strong as she was beautiful. Holding her for that brief moment had felt so good. She fit in his arms so well, it was hard to let her go.
Hell, maybe he had been too long without a woman. The last thing he wanted from Sam was a one-night stand. He’d had plenty of those after Kelly. If he’d wanted more, there were plenty of “Kellys” in the county to choose from. Sam was no Kelly.
A relationship just wasn’t in the cards. It would be so fine, though, damned fine to curl up with Sam, feeling her warm softness against him.
“Dammit,” he grumbled low, as he unlocked the door and stepped into the dimly lit office. Decker was sitting at his desk, typing away at his report. He didn’t bother hiding his anger as he lifted his gaze to glare at Hunter.
“How’s it comin’, Decker? You about done?” he asked with false joviality.
Decker mumbled something under his breath.
“What was that?” Hunter asked from his office.
“I said, I’ll have it to you shortly!” Decker shouted back.
Hunter grinned, entered his office, and sat at his desk to begin sorting through the paperwork that had been deposited there haphazardly.
He busied himself reading reports, and then filing them as he waited for Decker to finish, all while trying to keep his thoughts off one Miss Samantha Ryder.
It wasn’t a long wait, but he got all his filing done by the time Decker dropped his report on Hunter’s desk.