Iron Will Page 9

  “I’m still not sure I do. But after what happened today, I want to take another look.”

  Hank shook his head, mumbling under his breath as he turned toward the kitchen. “I’m going to get dressed and have a beer. You want one?”

  He glanced at his watch. He was off the clock. Normally he would pass because he wasn’t in the habit of drinking before dinner, but today he’d make an exception. “I would love one.” That apparently had taken Hank by surprise, because he felt his son studying him as Hank returned in jeans and a Western shirt with two bottles of beer.

  As Hank handed him one and twisted off the top on his own, he said, “Thank Mom for stocking our refrigerator.”

  “You know your mother. She wanted you and Frankie to be...comfortable up here.” Earlier, he’d come up to the cabin, planning to bust them, exposing Frankie as a PI and their relationship as a fraud. But seeing them together, he’d changed his mind and was glad of it. He could eat a little crow with his son.

  Anyway, what would it hurt to reopen the case unofficially? He still had misgivings about Hank’s accident earlier today. Maybe all it had been was road rage. Either way, he was determined to track down the truck—and driver.

  Frankie came out of the bedroom dressed in a baggy shirt and jeans, her feet still bare. Without asking her, Hank handed her his untouched beer and went into the kitchen to get another one.

  Hud stood for a moment, he and Frankie somewhat uneasy in each other’s presence. He was sure that his son had given the PI an earful about him. He’d lost Hank’s respect because of Naomi’s case. He’d thought he wouldn’t get another chance to redeem himself. Maybe this would be it.

  Hud took a chair while Frankie curled up on the couch, leaving the chair opposite him open. Hank, though, appeared too restless or stubborn to sit. He stood sipping his beer.

  “Any word on the truck that put us in the river?” Frankie asked into the dead silence that followed.

  “Not yet. I’ve asked that it be moved to priority one,” he said. “I also have law enforcement in the canyon watching for the truck. It will turn up.” He sounded more confident than he felt. He needed that truck and its driver. He needed to find out what had happened earlier and why—and not just to show his son that he knew what he was doing. If Hank was right and the driver of that truck was somehow connected to Naomi’s death...well, then he needed to find Naomi’s killer—before his son and Frankie did.

  “If I was wrong, I’ll make it right,” he told his son, who nodded, though grudgingly. As he finished his beer, his cell phone rang. “That will be your mother. Don’t tell her about this,” he said, holding up his empty bottle. “We’ll both be in trouble,” he joked, then sobered. “Dinner isn’t for a while. But I also would play down what happened earlier in the river during the meal. You know your mother.”

  Hank smiled. “I certainly do.” Hud saw him glance at Frankie. A look passed between them, one he couldn’t read, but he could feel the heat of it. He really wished his timing had been better earlier.

  * * *

  FRANKIE WAS STILL shaken from those moments with Hank before the marshal had arrived. She’d come so close to opening herself up to him, to baring not just her naked body, but her soul. She couldn’t let that happen again. She reminded herself that their relationship was fake. He was her employer. He was still in love with the memory of Naomi.

  That last part especially, she couldn’t let herself forget. Not to mention the fact that she had her own baggage he knew nothing about. With luck, he never would. Once she was finished with this job, she would return to Idaho. Who knew what Hank would do.

  Clearly, he loved the ranch and wanted to be part of the family’s ranching operation. Would what they discovered free him from the past? Free him from Naomi enough that he could return?

  “We have time for a horseback ride,” Hank said out of the blue as the marshal left. “It’s time you saw the ranch. You do ride, don’t you?”

  “I grew up in Montana before I moved to Idaho,” she said. “It’s been years since I’ve ridden, but I do know the front of the horse from the back.”

  “Good enough,” Hank said. “Come on.”

  Frankie got the feeling that he didn’t want to be alone with her in their cabin for fear of what would happen between them. She felt relieved but also a little disappointed, which made her angry with herself. Had she learned nothing when it came to men?

  They walked down to the barn, where Hank saddled them a couple of horses. She stood in the sunlight that hung over Lone Mountain and watched him. She liked the way he used his hands and how gentle he was with the horses. There were many sides to this handsome cowboy, she thought as he patted her horse’s neck and said, “Buttercup, you be nice to Frankie, now.”

  He handed her the reins. “Buttercup said she’ll be nice. You need to do the same. No cursing her if she tries to brush you off under a pine tree.” He turned to take the reins of the other horse.

  “Wait,” Frankie cried. “Will she do that?”

  He shrugged as he swung up into the saddle and laughed. “Let’s hope not.” He looked good up there, so self-assured, so at home. He spurred his horse forward. “Also, Buttercup’s got a crush on Romeo here, so she’ll probably just follow him and behave. But you never know with a female.” He trotted out of the barn, then reined in to wait for her.

  She started to give Buttercup a nudge, but the mare was already moving after Romeo and Hank.

  They rode up into the mountains through towering pines. The last of the summer air was warm on her back. She settled into the saddle, feeling more comfortable than she’d expected to be. Part of that was knowing that she was in good hands with both Buttercup and Hank.

  Frankie stole a glance at him, seeing him really relax for the first time since she’d met him. He had his head tilted back, his gaze on the tops of the mountains as if soaking them into his memory for safekeeping. Was he sorry he’d left? It didn’t really matter, she realized. He couldn’t come back here—not with Naomi’s ghost running rampant in his heart and mind. Until he knew what had happened to her, Frankie doubted he would ever find peace.

  In that moment, she resolved to find out the truth no matter what it was. She wanted to free this man from his obvious torment. But even as she thought it, she wondered if he would ever really be free of Naomi and his feelings for the dead woman.

  “Wait until you see this,” Hank said and rode on a little ahead to where the pines opened into a large meadow. She could see aspens, their leaves already starting to turn gold and rust and red even though summer wasn’t technically over. This part of Montana didn’t pay much attention to the calendar.

  As she rode out into the meadow, she was hit with the smells of drying leaves and grasses. It made her feel a little melancholy. Seasons ended like everything else, but she hated to feel time passing. It wouldn’t be long before they would be returning to Idaho and their lives there. That thought brought back the darkness that had been plaguing her for the past few months. She was going to have to deal with her past. She only wished she knew how.

  Hank had ridden ahead across the meadow. She saw that he’d reined in his horse and was waiting for her at the edge. Buttercup broke into a trot across the meadow and then a gallop. Frankie surprised herself by feeling as if she wasn’t going to fall off.

  She reined in next to Hank. He was grinning at her and she realized she had a broad smile on her face. “I like Buttercup.”

  “I thought you might. She’s a sweetheart. Except for when she tries to brush you off under a pine tree.” His grin broadened.

  “You really are an awful tease,” she said as he came over to help her off her horse.

  “You think so?” he said as he grabbed her by her waist and lifted her down to stand within inches of him. Their gazes met.

  Frankie felt desire shoot like a rocket through her. She’d thought sh
e’d put the fire out, but it had only been smoldering just below the surface. She wanted the kiss as much as her next breath.

  He drew her closer. “What is it about you that is driving me crazy?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.

  She shook her head, never breaking her gaze with his. “I could ask you the same thing.”

  He chuckled. “I want to kiss you.”

  She cocked her head at him. “So what’s stopping you?”

  “I’ve already had my heart broken once. I’m not sure I’m up to having it stomped on just yet,” he said, but he didn’t let her go. Nor did he break eye contact.

  “You think I’m a heartbreaker?” she said, surprised how breathy she sounded. It was as if the high altitude of the mountaintop had stolen all her oxygen.

  He grinned. “I know you are and yet...” He pulled her to him so quickly that she gasped before his mouth dropped to hers.

  The kiss was a stunner, all heat. His tongue teased hers as he deepened it, holding her so tightly against him that she felt as if their bodies had fused in the heat.

  He let her go just as quickly and stepped away, shaking his head. “We should get back, but first you should see the view. My mother is bound to ask you at dinner what you thought of it.”

  She was still looking at the handsome cowboy as she swayed under the onslaught of emotions she didn’t believe she’d ever felt before. “The view?” she said on a ragged breath.

  Hank laughed and took her hand. “It’s this way.” He led her to the edge of the mountaintop, still holding her hand in his large warm one. “What do you think?”

  She thought that, for a while, they’d both forgotten Naomi. “I’ve never enjoyed a horseback ride more in my life,” she said, her gaze on the amazing view of mountains that seemed to go on forever.

  He gently squeezed her hand. “It is pretty amazing, isn’t it?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Dinner was a blur of people and laughter and talk as more relatives and friends gathered around the large dining room table, including Dana’s best friend, Hilde, and her family. Fortunately, most of it was going on around Frankie, and all she had to do was smile and laugh at the appropriate times. She avoided looking at Hank, but in the middle of the meal, she felt his thigh brush against hers. She felt his gaze on her. When he placed his hand on her thigh, she wasn’t able to control the shiver of desire that rocketed through her. She moved her leg and tried to still her galloping pulse. Getting her body to unrespond to his touch wasn’t as easy.

  Once the meal was over, she and Hank walked back up to their cabin. For a long way, neither said a word. It was still plenty light out.

  “Are you all right?” Hank asked over the evening sounds around them. She could hear the hum of the river as it flowed past, the chatter of a squirrel in the distance and the cry of a hawk as it caught a thermal and soared above them.

  “Fine. You?”

  He stopped walking. “Damn it, Frankie. You can’t pretend that the kiss didn’t happen. That things haven’t changed.”

  She stopped walking as well and turned to face him. Was he serious? They were pretending to be in a relationship and had almost consummated it. Worse, it was all she could think about. And maybe even worse than that, she wanted it desperately. “It hasn’t changed anything.”

  He made a disbelieving face. She wanted to touch the rough stubble on his jaw, remembering the feel of it earlier when he’d kissed her. Not to mention the memory of their naked bodies molded together for those few moments was so sharp that it cut her to the core. “Don’t get me wrong. I wanted you more than my next breath. I still do. But—”

  “But?” he demanded.

  “But you’re my employer and this is a job. For a moment we let ourselves forget that.”

  “So that’s the way we’re going to play it?” he asked, sounding upset and as disappointed as she felt.

  “Let’s not forget why we’re here. You’re still in love with the memory of Naomi after three years of mourning her death. Let’s find out who killed her—if she really was murdered—and then...” She didn’t know what came after.

  “Do you doubt Naomi was murdered after what happened when we left the Corral?” he demanded.

  She thought there could be another explanation, though not one she felt she could share with him until she knew for sure. She still wanted to believe that no one knew where she was, especially the man who’d left her dozens of threatening messages on her phone.

  Choosing her words carefully, she said, “Based on that and what I’ve learned about Naomi, I think there is a very good chance that she was murdered.”

  He stared at her for a moment. “That’s right. You haven’t told me what you learned about her today.” He started walking again as if bracing himself for the worst. “So let’s hear it.”

  * * *

  HANK LISTENED, GETTING angrier by the moment. They’d reached the cabin by the time she’d finished. “This woman, Tamara Baker, is lying. Naomi hated the taste of booze.”

  “Tamara insinuated that Naomi was into something more than booze. Not men. But something more dangerous.”

  “Like what? Money laundering? Drugs? Prostitution?” He swore. “Stop looking at me like that. Go ahead, roll your eyes. You think I didn’t know my own girlfriend?”

  “Why would Tamara lie?”

  “I have no idea. But she’s wrong and so is Roy at the grocery store. Naomi wouldn’t steal. He’s thinking of the wrong girl. Naomi sure as heck didn’t get fired. She was one of his best workers. She showed me the bonus she got for...” His voice trailed off. “I can’t remember what it was for, but I saw the money.”

  Frankie said nothing, which only made him even angrier. He shoved open the door to the cabin, let her go in first and stormed in behind her. “What if it’s all a lie to cover up something else?” He knew he was reaching. He couldn’t imagine why these people would make up stories about Naomi.

  She shrugged. “I only told you what I’d learned. Maybe she had another life when she wasn’t with you.”

  He shook his head and began pacing, angry and frustrated. “You didn’t know her. She was afraid of everything. She was...innocent.”

  “All right, maybe that’s how she got involved in something she didn’t know how to get out of.”

  He stopped pacing. “Like what?”

  “She had a boyfriend before you, right?”

  “Butch Clark. Randall ‘Butch’ Clark. But she hadn’t seen him in years.”

  “I want to talk to him. Alone,” she added before he could say he was going with her.

  “Why? I just told you that she hadn’t seen him in years.”

  She said nothing for a moment, making him swear again. “Just let me follow this lead. I’ll go in the morning. Any idea where I can find him?”

  “His father owns the hardware store. He’d probably know.” He felt sick in the pit of his stomach as he recalled something. “He was at Naomi’s funeral. I recognized him.”

  “So you knew him?”

  He shook his head. “Naomi pointed him out once when we first started dating. He didn’t seem like her type. I asked her about him, but she didn’t want to talk about him, saying he was her past.”

  Frankie nodded knowingly and he caught a familiar glint in her eye.

  “I don’t even want to know what you’re thinking right now,” he said with a groan.

  She shrugged. “Naomi had a past. That’s all.”

  He cocked his head at her, waiting.

  “That she didn’t want to talk about,” she added. “Happy?”

  “You are so sure she had some deep dark secret. I might remind you that you have a past you don’t want to talk about.”

  “True, but you and I aren’t dating.”

  “We’re supposed to be,” he said, stepping toward her. “I don’t see
that as being so unbelievable given what almost happened earlier. How about I fire you, end this employer-employee relationship, and we quit pretending this isn’t real?”

  * * *

  FRANKIE LOOKED INTO Hank’s blue eyes and felt a shiver of desire ripple through her. It would have been so easy to take this to the next level—and quickly, given the sparks that arced between them. Common sense warned her not to let this happen. But the wild side of her had wanted him almost from the first time he’d walked into her office. The chemistry had been there as if undercover, sizzling just below the surface.

  Any woman in her right mind would have wanted this handsome, strong, sexy cowboy. She doubted Hank even knew just how appealing he was. Naomi had held his sensuality at arm’s length, using herself as a weapon to get him to the altar. Frankie could see that the wild side of Hank wanted out as badly as she wanted to unleash it.

  He stopped directly in front of her, so close she could smell the musky outdoor male scent of him. She felt her pulse leap, her heart pounding as she waited for him to take her in his arms.

  Instead, he touched her cheek with the rough tips of his fingers, making her moan as she closed her eyes and leaned into the heavenly feel of his flesh against hers.

  At a tap on the door, Hank groaned. “If that’s my father—”

  “Hello?” Dana called. “Are you guys decent?”

  Hank swore softly under his breath and then, locking his gaze with Frankie’s, grinned. “Come on in, Mom,” he said as he grabbed Frankie, pulled her to him and kissed her hard on the mouth. Breaking off the kiss only after the door had opened, he said, “We are now, Mom.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was late by the time Dana left. She’d seemed in a talkative mood, and it was clear that she wanted to spend more time with her son. Frankie excused herself to go to bed. She hadn’t been able to sleep, though. Her body ached with a need that surprised her. She hadn’t felt this kind of desire in a very long time and definitely not this strong.