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  Hiring Ms. Ellen was the best choice he’d made so far. It was a good thing he got his exercise working the ranch or he’d be blimping up from eating her homemade cinnamon rolls, gravies and pies.

  He glimpsed Rachel heaping scrambled eggs into one of the serving bins underneath the warming lamps, and noticed dark circles beneath her eyes. She yawned, and he realized she hadn’t slept any better than he had.

  Because of the snake, or whatever she was running from?

  Anger knotted his stomach. Dammit. He wanted to know the truth, badly.

  Laughter erupted in one corner, and he spotted Ricardo, the boy who’d been rude to her the night before, huddled at a table, a smirk on his face as he watched Rachel.

  Suspicions reared their ugly head. Johnny had been a troubled kid himself—and a troublemaker. He recognized the signs of one in the making. And this one seemed to have his eyes set on picking on Rachel. Reining in his temper, he strode toward the table of boys.

  Had he put the snake in her bed as some kind of prank to scare her?

  Whether he had or hadn’t, he would set the boy straight.

  He grabbed a cup of coffee, saw Kenny talking to some of the younger boys, then headed to the corner group. They were chowing down, talking about the rodeo.

  He snapped his fingers. The rodeo—that was his bargaining chip.

  “Hey, guys,” Johnny said as he slid into a seat. “Ready to start practicing?”

  Three of the teens, Juan, Samuel and Devon, nodded.

  “I want to learn how to pen,” Juan said.

  Samuel poked Devon in the side. “And we want to barrel race.”

  Johnny laughed. “Spoken like cowboys.”

  Ricardo remained quiet, tearing off a piece of ham with his fingers and jamming it into his mouth.

  “Listen, boys,” Johnny said. “We had a little problem last night. Do you know anything about it?”

  A devil-may-care attitude colored Ricardo’s eyes, but the other boys looked away guiltily.

  “What kind of trouble?” Ricardo asked, puffing up his chest.

  “Ms. Simmons found a snake in her bed.” Johnny sipped his coffee but stared dead-on at Ricardo over the brim of his mug. “Funny thing is, I checked the cabin and didn’t see how it could have gotten in. Not unless someone put it there.”

  Ricardo shrugged and wolfed down his biscuit.

  “You know, Ms. Simmons is a nice lady. And she’s here to help, so if anyone hurts her or messes with her, they’ll answer to me.”

  “What you gonna do?” Ricardo asked. “Beat up on us like our folks did?”

  Johnny sucked in a sharp breath, wondering if this had been a test for him. “No,” he said calmly. “That’s not how we do things around here.” He gave him a pointed look. “But we also don’t condone harassing or frightening the employees, especially women.”

  “It was just a dumb prank,” Ricardo muttered.

  Johnny gripped his mug to keep from boxing the kid’s ears. “Maybe to you, but not to her. And in my book, any boy who gets his kicks out of scaring girls or women is not a man.”

  The other boys looked contrite, and Ricardo’s tough-guy look crumbled.

  “I realize you boys have suffered some hard knocks in your life.” He swept his gaze across the group. “So did I. I also made mistakes and some stupid choices, but we’re offering you a second chance.” He set his coffee mug on the table with a firm thunk. “What you do with it is up to you. But if you want to stay and participate in the rodeo, you’ll follow my rules. And you will respect the staff.”

  “Yes, sir,” the other three boys said at once.

  Ricardo chugged his orange juice.

  “Do you understand?” Johnny said pointedly.

  “Yeah, sure,” Ricardo said.

  “Yes, sir,” Johnny corrected.

  Ricardo shifted. “Yes, sir.”

  Johnny nodded. “Do you want to participate in the rodeo?”

  Ricardo’s defiant expression faded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Then apologize to Ms. Simmons.”

  Ricardo picked up his tray. “Yes, sir.”

  Maybe the kid just needed a little extra attention. He’d do what he could.

  But if Ricardo pulled another stunt, he’d send him back to the orphanage. It would be a hard lesson, but some kids were like him. They had to learn the hard way or it didn’t stick.

  Johnny’s cell phone buzzed, and he checked the number. Brody.

  He stepped away from the table for a moment, then clicked to answer. “What’s up?”

  “Trouble at the north end. Fencing is down, looks like it’s been cut.”

  Johnny glanced at Ricardo as he emptied his trash and wondered if he was responsible for this trouble, too.

  “I’ll round up some boys to help repair it,” Johnny said.

  Ricardo was heading toward Rachel, but he caught up to him. “Ricardo, hold up.”

  The teen looked at him with an anxious expression.

  Johnny cleared his throat. “Some fencing was cut in the north pasture. Do you know anything about that?”

  Ricardo’s eyes sharpened defensively. “No, sir.”

  Johnny narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure, son? This wasn’t another one of your stunts?”

  Ricardo gave a vigorous shake of his head. “I’m sure, I put the snake in Ms. Simmons’s bed, but I swear I didn’t tear up no fence.” Ricardo stuffed his hands in his pockets, and Johnny couldn’t help but notice they were scarred and shaking. “I’ll help you fix it, though, if you want.”

  Johnny studied him for a moment, but realized he believed the kid. “Thanks. Now make that apology and we’ll ride out to the pasture together.”

  Ricardo looked relieved, then headed over to Rachel. Johnny remembered seeing that truck parked on the hill in the distance the night before. He’d thought it seemed odd but dismissed it.

  Maybe whoever had been in that vehicle had vandalized the property. But who?

  Brody’s concerns about their neighbor Copeland needled him.

  What if Copeland had hired someone to cause trouble?

  RACHEL WATCHED sixteen-year-old Ricardo approach with a sense of dread. She’d seen Johnny talking with him, and wondered what was going on.

  “Ms. Simmons?” Ricardo shifted back and forth from side to side.

  Johnny stood by the wall, quiet but watching, arms folded.

  “Did you need something, Ricardo?” Rachel indicated the trays of bacon, ham and eggs. “Another serving?”

  He shook his head. “No, ma’am. I…” He cut his eyes toward the floor. “I’m sorry. I put that snake in your cabin.”

  His statement took her by surprise. She’d contemplated packing up and leaving today for fear Rex had found her. But then Kenny had jumped out of bed talking about his first riding lesson today, and she hadn’t had the heart. Still, most of her clothes remained packed.

  “You did?” she finally asked.

  He nodded, then lifted his gaze to hers, his eyes wary. “It was just a prank, but Mr. J. said it wasn’t funny and I had to apologize.”

  “Maybe it was funny to you, but it’s not fun to be on the other end of a joke.” She paused, caught Johnny’s worried look, realized she sounded harsh, then softened her voice. After all, Ricardo was just a kid. No telling what he’d been through. And if this was Kenny, she’d want someone to give him a break. But they couldn’t allow him to get away with it either. “Has that ever happened to you?”

  He nodded, then gripped his hands together in front of him and stared at his feet.

  Rachel’s heart softened at his body language. According to Ms. Ellen, Ricardo lived in an orphanage and had been shuffled in and out of foster care since he was three.

  Probably where he’d received those nasty scars on his hands. Abusers manipulated their victims to the point that Ricardo probably blamed himself and suffered from low self-esteem. Maybe he’d thought pranking her would earn him attention from the other boys.

 
“It takes a big man to admit his mistakes, Ricardo.” Rachel patted his shoulder. “Now, how about an extra muffin?”

  A small smile touched his mouth, revealing a missing tooth in the front. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

  She handed him a blueberry muffin, and he wrapped it in a napkin, then tucked it in his pocket.

  Was he storing it for later because he’d gone hungry before? Her chest tightened. She’d make sure he received generous portions from now on.

  As soon as Ricardo disappeared outside, Johnny approached her.

  “You talked to him?” Rachel asked.

  Johnny nodded. “I don’t think he’ll mess with you again.”

  Rachel nodded, then glanced at Kenny, who was emptying his tray.

  “Is something else bothering you, Rachel? You don’t look like you slept well.”

  Rachel bit her lip. She would have slept better if Johnny had stayed last night. But then, she might not have wanted to sleep.

  And the thought of letting a man touch her, get close to her, scared her more than the snake.

  “If you’re in trouble, Rachel,” Johnny said in a deep voice, “let me help.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath. Why did his gruff voice make her want to open up?

  But Kenny raced toward her with an excited gleam in his eyes, and she clammed up. How could she tell Johnny that she was wanted by the law?

  He’d call the police, then she’d go to jail and lose Kenny for good.

  Kenny tugged at her hand, saving her from answering. “Mom, I’m gonna practice tying knots with the day troopers.” He turned hopeful eyes at Johnny. “Then we’ll have the riding lesson?”

  Johnny tipped the brim of Kenny’s hat. “Yep, this afternoon. I have to mend some fences this morning.”

  Rachel noticed the hero worship in Kenny’s eyes and wondered if she’d made a mistake by coming here. “Have fun, Kenny. But remember, do what the counselor says.”

  He nodded and beamed a smile, then jogged to catch up with Blair, the camp counselor leading the group.

  “Rachel?” Johnny asked.

  Torn over wanting to accept his offer to help and the need to protect herself, she averted her gaze.

  “Ms. Ellen and I need to clean up. But I’d like to watch the lesson with you and Kenny later.”

  “Sure.” He looked slightly disappointed, but she hurried away before she did something stupid like confess the truth.

  Kim and Lucy passed her, and Lucy waved, but Kim’s curious look made Rachel wonder if Johnny had shared his suspicions with her. Desperate to shake her nerves, she joined Ms. Ellen and they worked in tandem making soup and sandwiches for lunch.

  “Feeding this crew is a job,” Ms. Ellen said in a blustery tone. “But I love cooking and these kids.” A sad expression drew Ms. Ellen’s usual smile into a melancholy moment. “You know, I lost a boy years ago. Just took off with the wrong crowd and he never came back.”

  Rachel’s heart ached, and she put her arm around the older woman. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Ellen. Do you know what happened to him?”

  Ms. Ellen wiped at a tear on her cheek. “Ended up dying in a car accident. Worst part was that I never got to tell him how much I loved him.” She sighed heavily. “And that I forgave him for running away.” She clutched Rachel’s hand. “Sometimes, child, you got to just snatch the moment. And when you love someone, you gots to tell them ’cause you never know how long they’ll be around.”

  Rachel squeezed Ms. Ellen’s hands. She sensed Ms. Ellen was trying to give her advice, and she wished she could trust her heart enough to confide in this woman about her past. And to allow her budding feelings toward Johnny to grow.

  But Rex would find her, and then she’d be sorry if she’d opened up to anyone else.

  They both fell silent as they finished preparing the meal. If only her life here could last.

  By the time she’d finished making the soup, she’d splattered tomato juice all over her shirt. So she walked back to the cabin to change before the lunch session began. But the moment she stepped inside, an eerie premonition skated up her spine.

  The faint scent of a man’s cologne again…only this time it was different. Not the usual one Rex wore. Had he changed, or had someone else been inside the cabin?

  The hairs at the nape of her neck bristled, and she swung around to check the corners of the room. Someone was watching her….

  She could feel it. Sense their eyes on her back.

  Her pulse clamored as she scanned the living area and kitchen, but she didn’t see anyone. Only, something seemed different. Had she left that coffee cup on the counter this morning? And that knife…

  No…she’d put her cup in the dishwasher. And the knife…she hadn’t used it for anything. And Kenny knew better than to play with sharp knives.

  Anxiety knotted her shoulders, and she grabbed the knife and clenched it in case of an attack. Then she tiptoed into the hall to check the bedrooms. A twig on the floor caught her eyes, then dirt.

  A footprint.

  Too big to be Kenny’s or hers.

  Someone else had been in her place.

  Was he still here?

  Inching forward, she peeked inside Kenny’s room, but it was empty. His pj’s lay on the floor beside the bottom bunk where he’d slept. His stuffed animals and cowboy toys were on the top bunk, staged as he’d left them when he’d set them up that way.

  She moved slowly into the room and checked the closet, then breathed a small sigh of relief when she found it empty.

  Her hand trembled as she forced herself to return to the hall and look into the room where she’d slept. Her stomach clenched as she scanned the area.

  Her clothes had been rustled through in her suitcase, some of her underwear tossed about.

  Her breath caught.

  And a pair of her red lace panties had been ripped and were shredded across the white lacy sheets on the bed.

  THERE WERE FOOTPRINTS around the broken fencing.

  Johnny knelt and examined them, anger railing through him. Brody had insisted on installing state-of-the-art maintenance-free fencing made of a high-density polyethylene, or HDPE. It was brand-new.

  Which meant that this section had definitely been sabotaged.

  Furious, he scanned the land beyond the pasture and realized several cattle had escaped because of the opening.

  Brody had hired a couple of ex-cons, mostly misdemeanor records, no felonies, but he’d wanted to give them a second chance.

  Could one of the employees have done this? Maybe one who was working for Copeland?

  “We can fix it?” Ricardo asked.

  Johnny nodded. “Yes. Then we’ll round up the cattle that strayed from the herd.”

  Ricardo nodded, then Johnny strode to his pickup to retrieve his tools.

  He and Ricardo worked for the next hour repairing the fence, then Johnny drove Ricardo back, saddled his favorite stallion, Soldier, and a quarter horse for the boy, and they rode out to corral the herd.

  By the time they finished and had returned to the main house, it was lunchtime and he was sweaty and tired. But he was determined to figure out who’d sabotaged the fence, so he hurried to his office to search through employee records.

  Even if he didn’t find anyone suspicious from the preliminary background checks, he might determine who’d been driving that vehicle the night before. That person might have seen something, somebody who didn’t belong.

  Three men on the list had records. The first one a DUI, the second a vandalism charge, and the third, charges of petty larceny and assault, although the assault charges had been dropped. He cross-checked each name with the job assignments and work schedule, then perused their personal information for the type of vehicles they drove.

  The man with the petty larceny record and assault charges, Frank Dunham, drove an SUV. Could he possibly be working for Copeland?

  Johnny ran a search on Dunham and minutes later muttered a curse. Frank Dunham had served time in
the state pen with Carter.

  Dammit. Carter had been furious when Johnny had visited him. He hated him and Brandon. Would he sabotage the ranch to get revenge?

  REX STUDIED THE DOSSIER his friend had printed out on Johnny Long, a litany of curses spewing from his mouth.

  Damn cocky bastard had won a slew of rodeo awards and was a hero in the circuit. He had money coming out of his ass and enough land for an army to live on. He raised prized stallions, bred horses for racing and stud fees, and raised prime beef cattle.

  And from the damn news article about this BBL place, Johnny Long was not only one of the fundraisers, but he’d also donated a million dollars to back the ranch and kid camps himself.

  All to make himself look like some kind of damn saint.

  But Johnny Long was no saint.

  Rex could look into his eyes and see the evil. He skimmed the man’s background and read that he’d grown up dirt-poor with a drunken, abusive father and a mother who’d run off and left him. Johnny had also tangled with the law himself and had liked bar brawls a little too much when he was young. He’d escaped jail time by the skin of his tanned, leathery face.

  Rex flipped through the photographs of all the groupies who’d flung themselves at him. Women who would drop their pants for him at the crook of his finger.

  He’d charm their clothes off with his shiny belt buckles, his smooth talking and awards and cocky grin.

  Was that what he was doing to Rachel? Charming his way into her bed? Had she already succumbed to the man and become another whore for him to brag about?

  And his son?

  What the hell was she doing taking his son into another man’s place to live?

  “You want me to take care of Johnny Long?”

  Rex shook his head, then unfolded a wad of cash and paid his buddy for the information. He’d already sworn him to secrecy.

  Any man who broke that code would end up dead and his buddy knew it.

  The man stuffed the money in his pocket, then slid into the shadows of the bar and out the back door.

  Rex crushed the damn dossier in his hands, polished off his whiskey, then waved the waitress over for another.

  If Johnny Long thought he was going to steal his wife and son, he was a fool.