Bucking Bronc Lodge 04 - Cowboy Cop Read online

  “Dammit. Did he hurt you?”

  “No, I’m just shaken.”

  “Did you see who he was?”

  “No, it was too dark.” Now that the adrenaline was waning, Jordan’s knees buckled. She slumped down onto the bed, massaging her neck with one hand. “He ran through the woods on foot but he must have had a car parked nearby because I heard an engine... I thought you should know.”

  “Let me ask Ms. Ellen to stay with Timmy and I’ll come over.”

  “No, I’m fine, Miles—”

  “I’m coming,” Miles snapped. “Maybe he left some evidence behind.”

  Jordan sighed. She wasn’t thinking straight, acting on emotions. “You’re right.”

  “Stay put. I’ll be there soon.”

  Jordan retrieved her pistol and hurried to the front window to watch for Miles. If the intruder returned, she’d be ready.

  * * *

  MILES YANKED ON HIS JEANS and shirt, and hastily buttoned it. He holstered his gun on his belt, then went to check on Timmy. For a moment, his heart tripped as memories of his son’s nightmare crashed in on him.

  Thankfully he was sleeping peacefully now.

  All because of Jordan.

  His failures as a father were mounting.

  The wind rattled the roof, and he startled, listening again for trouble. But the sound of Ms. Ellen’s car rumbling up the drive to his cabin gave him comfort.

  He rushed to open the door for her. The curly-haired chubby woman with her perpetual smile and loving hugs for the kids seemed to have boundless energy. Yet her mouth was pinched with worry.

  “You said Jordan’s in trouble?” she asked as she lumbered up the steps.

  Miles nodded. “She had an intruder. She chased him away, but I want to check on her.” He gestured toward the bedroom while she fumbled with her coat and scarf. “Timmy’s sleeping. He had a nightmare earlier and was awake for a while, so he may sleep in, but I should be back before you have to start breakfast.”

  “Don’t you worry none, I’ll take care of your boy. You see about Jordan. She’s a sweetheart, that one is.”

  He couldn’t argue with her there, and he didn’t have time to analyze whether or not she was trying to play matchmaker, so he simply nodded again, then hurried outside to his Jeep. Dust spewed from his wheels as he cut a circle in the drive and flew toward Jordan’s. He kept his eyes peeled for trouble but the ranch seemed quiet, at peace, everybody and every animal sleeping.

  He clenched the steering wheel and took the shortcut off the road, making it to Jordan’s cabin within two minutes.

  The outside of her place looked dark, the woods desolate behind the cabin. He parked, scanning the area as he rushed up to her door. Jordan opened it just as he raised his fist to knock.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She nodded, although she looked pale, and he couldn’t resist pulling her into his arms for a moment. His heart pounded at the way she shivered against him, a sign she was more rattled than she wanted him to know.

  Hell, why wouldn’t she be? She’d been shot at earlier, and now someone had broken into her place in the middle of the night. She sighed, shaking, then seemed to compose herself and pulled back. Memories of their earlier kiss taunted him, but he reminded himself not to have a repeat performance.

  He was a mess. A failure at his job, with Marie, with his son.

  Jordan ran a hand through her hair. It was disheveled and she looked tired.

  “Tell me exactly what happened,” he said.

  “I was asleep and heard a noise,” Jordan replied. “When I looked up, I saw a figure in my room.”

  Miles frowned. “What did he look like?”

  Jordan twined her fingers together. “I...don’t know, it was too dark for details.”

  Miles rubbed her arm. “Just think, Jordan. Was he big, heavy, tall?”

  Jordan closed her eyes and pressed a finger to her temple, a frown deepening the space between her eyes. “Tall, wide shoulders...big but not fat. Like he was fit.”

  “What about a smell? A cologne? Cigarettes? Booze?”

  Jordan shook her head, then seemed to rethink her response. “Yes, he did smell, but it wasn’t a bad odor. It was...subtle. Like an aftershave.”

  “Dugan always wore a mint aftershave,” Miles said. “Subtle.”

  “You think it was him?”

  “I don’t know but we can’t take any chances.” Miles’s chest constricted. “Dammit, what if he broke in here as a diversion to lure me away from Timmy?” He dug his keys from his pocket. “He could be going after him now.”

  He didn’t wait for Jordan to respond. He took off toward the door. If this was a setup by Dugan, he had fallen right into the man’s trap.

  Chapter Nine

  Jordan raced after Miles. “I’m going with you.”

  He didn’t argue, simply motioned for her to hurry, and she stuffed her feet into socks, threw a sweatshirt on over her T-shirt and pajama pants and chased him to his Jeep. Within minutes they’d parked at his cabin, both of them searching the perimeter.

  Miles climbed the steps two at a time, then opened the door. Jordan’s breath eased out when she spotted Ms. Ellen on the couch with a cup of coffee, relaxed and thankfully unharmed.

  Which meant Timmy was safe.

  Still, Miles slid open Timmy’s door and checked inside. Jordan imagined him standing above his son, pressing his hand to his chest to make sure he was still breathing like several mothers of newborns had admitted they did.

  Ms. Ellen’s eyes widened with alarm as she stood. “Jordan, honey, are you okay?”

  “Yes,” Jordan said, hating to worry the woman. “We wondered if the break-in was an attempt to draw Miles away from his cabin so that man Dugan could take Timmy.”

  Ms. Ellen stood, arms folded across her ample bust. “Ain’t nobody gonna touch that boy when I’m around.”

  If Jordan hadn’t already been so exhausted, she would have smiled at the fierce protectiveness in the older woman’s voice. “Thanks, but we were worried about you, too.”

  Ms. Ellen fumbled with her jacket. “Don’t have to. I can take care of myself.”

  Jordan did smile then. She wanted to be brave as well. But the truth was that neither of them would be a match for Dugan or his accomplice if one of them came at them armed.

  “Has Timmy been resting?” Jordan asked.

  Ms. Ellen nodded. “I heard him whimper a couple of times and went in and patted his back and he calmed down.”

  “Poor little fellow had a terrible nightmare earlier,” Jordan said. “I’m afraid he was reliving his mother’s murder.”

  Miles cleared his throat as he stepped back into the den. “All the more reason to push him to talk.”

  Jordan stiffened. “I told you pushing him could be dangerous. He’ll talk, and he’ll remember when his mind is ready.”

  Ms. Ellen gave a nod. “She’s right, Mr. Miles. The mind has a way of dealing with things in good time.”

  Irritation and worry tightened Miles’s angular jaw. “Thanks for coming, Ms. Ellen. I’m sorry I had to bother you.”

  “No problem.” She threw her plump arms around Jordan. “I’m just glad you and Timmy are both safe. I’ll see you later.”

  Jordan offered a tired smile. “Remember that I’m taking Timmy’s group on that hike and sleepover tonight.”

  “I know,” Ms. Ellen said. “I’m working up a special picnic and treats.”

  “Thanks, you’re a doll.”

  Ms. Ellen grabbed her shawl and purse and ambled out the door. Miles walked her outside, and Jordan heaved a relieved breath.

  But when Miles returned, anger darkened his eyes. “You’re not taking those kids out alone.”

  Jordan hated being told what to do, but she also wasn’t a fool. She knew the dangers. “Fine. One of Brody’s security guards can accompany us.”

  “No, I’m going,” Miles stated in a gruff voice.

  Jordan rubbed at her n
eck muscles. Lack of sleep and the day’s scary events had drained her energy. “Fine.” It was still dark outside, but soon the sun would be weaving through the gray clouds signaling morning. “I’m going back to grab a couple of hours of sleep. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

  Miles caught her arm before she could leave. “You’re not going to your place alone.”

  Jordan’s gaze met his, her body tingling at the stark protectiveness in his eyes. “Timmy needs you here. I’ll be fine.”

  “I said you’re not going.” His gruff voice hardened to steel. “You can lie down in my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

  A shiver rippled through Jordan at the idea of sleeping in Miles’s bed. Images of him lying beneath the sheets with her followed, taunting her with what-ifs.

  What if they got naked and made love?

  Hunger flared in his eyes as if he’d read her thoughts, and she forced herself to look away. He was still grieving for Timmy’s mother. She was a counselor helping his little boy.

  She couldn’t allow herself to dream of anything more.

  * * *

  MILES MUST HAVE IMAGINED the look of desire in Jordan’s eyes. Although, the idea that she wanted him made his body harden with need.

  It had been a long damn time since a female had looked at him like that. Marie and he hadn’t been together in years. His job had consumed his life.

  His passion had been hunting and tracking killers.

  He couldn’t become sidetracked now either. Not when his son’s life depended on it.

  So he jerked his hand from her arm and forced himself to take a step back. “Go ahead. I can’t sleep anyway.”

  “I can rest on the couch,” she offered.

  “No, go.” A muscle jumped in his cheek. “Now.”

  Jordan’s eyes flared with emotions he didn’t want to take the time to decipher. He needed her out of the room before he grabbed her again and kissed her the way his body was craving.

  She either sensed he was on the brink of losing control or she thought he was a bastard because she disappeared into his room and shut the door.

  Frustrated, he scrubbed a hand down his jaw. Images of Jordan lying in his bed teased him, tempting him to change his mind and join her, but he forced himself to step outside. He automatically felt inside his jacket for his gun as he settled down into one of the porch chairs and studied the woods nearby.

  The ranch usually offered him peace, but in the early-morning hours with storm clouds threatening and the memory of the fear that had clawed at him when Jordan had called fresh in his head, peace eluded him.

  He wouldn’t rest until Dugan and his accomplice were caught and in jail.

  Or dead.

  He would prefer the latter. The cold-blooded killer didn’t deserve to stay on this earth alive.

  His cell phone vibrated inside his shirt, and he reached inside and removed it. When he saw Blackpaw’s name on the caller ID screen, he immediately connected the call.

  “It’s McGregor. What’s up?”

  “I may have something.”

  Miles perked up. “What?”

  “I looked back through the prison’s visitor’s log and it looks like Dugan had a repeated visitor, but his name had been erased. I’m going to the prison this morning to talk to his cell mate and see what I can find out.”

  Miles’s heart raced. “I’ll meet you there.”

  “What about Timmy?”

  Miles stewed for a minute, guilt eating at him like a festering sore. But he felt out of control doing nothing here. He couldn’t help Timmy. Dugan was out there hunting for another victim. And either he or his accomplice—which he was almost sure now was an accomplice, not a copycat—had broken in and threatened Jordan.

  The sooner he found how the accomplice and Dugan were connected, the sooner he could end this nightmare. If Dugan and his partner were in jail, maybe Timmy would feel safe enough to talk again.

  “I’ll ask one of the security guards to watch him while I’m gone. This might be the lead we need.” And if the man refused to talk, he’d find a way to pound the truth out of him.

  * * *

  JORDAN INHALED MILES’S manly scent the moment her head hit the pillow. She didn’t bother to undress; she crawled beneath the covers, exhausted from the night’s ordeal.

  But images of Miles sliding beneath the covers teased her mind. Did he wear boxers or briefs?

  She toyed with the question, imagining him in both for a few minutes before she ordered her mind to regroup. She had taught other people how to control their emotions, how to compartmentalize, and she had to do the same.

  Miles was off-limits. When he found this killer and Timmy had healed, she’d never see them again. She was way too smart to try to play substitute mother and wife or lover to a man whose heart lay with another woman.

  Finally fatigue claimed her, and she fell into a deep sleep, so deep she barely heard the door squeak open. She managed to get one eye open, then felt the covers being pulled back. Then she spotted Timmy and patted the bed. “Want to climb in and sleep with me for a while, sweetie?”

  He nodded, then climbed up beside her. She opened her arms and he curled up beside her. Her heart ached as she felt his small body shudder. She wondered if he’d had another nightmare, but she knew he probably needed sleep and so did she, so she simply held him close and let him snuggle up to her instead of pushing him to talk.

  God, she was starting to love this child.

  She fell asleep again, a more restful sleep this time, and dreamed that she lived on a ranch and had a family of her own. A sweet little boy and a man who cared about them both.

  When she woke up later, she felt as if somebody was watching her, and fear snapped through her veins. She jerked her eyes open, then her heart jolted when she saw Miles standing above the bed.

  Loneliness etched his face, sadness and longing echoing in his labored breathing.

  “He won’t let me comfort him,” he said gruffly.

  Jordan’s chest squeezed. More than anything she wanted to wrap her arms around this big strong man.

  Forgetting all the reasons she shouldn’t touch him, she eased Timmy away from her, tucked him back under the covers, then rose and moved toward him. “Miles, it’s not you,” she whispered, not wanting to wake Timmy. “He probably just misses his mother.”

  Miles dropped his head forward, his shoulders slumped. His whole body looked weary. “But I’m his father. I should be able to do something for him.”

  “You are.” She reached up and raked a strand of hair from his forehead. “You love him and you brought him here. Sometimes helping someone means asking others for help.”

  His dark eyes bored into hers. “He must hate me. I wasn’t there... I let him down.”

  “You aren’t letting him down now.” Jordan drew him into her arms and held him. At first he resisted, but then he collapsed against her. For a long time she simply hugged him and stroked his back, but the heat between them began to simmer, the air hot, steeped in hunger.

  Well aware his son was in the room and that it was wrong, she finally moved away. Sunlight was fighting its way through the curtains, the hues of gray mingling with golden rays that shouted that it was morning.

  And time for her to return to her place.

  “I’m going to my cabin to shower.” Jordan headed toward the door.

  “Wait. I’ll get one of the security guards to accompany you and stand guard.”

  “It’s daylight now,” Jordan said. “I’ll be fine. If I need you, I’ll call.”

  Miles walked her to the door. “Jordan...thanks for tonight.”

  Jordan licked her dry lips. “I didn’t do anything, Miles.”

  “Yes, you did. You made Timmy feel better...and me. You made me feel better.”

  Jordan squeezed his hand. “We will get through this, and Timmy will be okay. I promise.”

  “I hope you’re right.” His jaw flexed. “My friend Mason Blackpaw. I’m meeting him around
noon at the prison to question Dugan’s old cell mate. It appears he had a visitor that we didn’t know about.”

  “You think it was someone who helped him?”

  “It’s possible. We’re going to see if we can track him down.”

  “Okay. I’ll take care of Timmy.”

  Miles reached out and rubbed her arms. “Thanks. I’m also going to ask one of Brody’s security guards to stay with you and the group on your hike.”

  Jordan wanted to protest. But she’d be foolish to when someone had broken in her place tonight.

  She cared too much about Timmy to allow her pride to get in the way. Richie’s death had taught her about evil.

  It could find you and touch you even when you thought it couldn’t.

  * * *

  FOUR HOURS LATER, Miles stared at the man who had shared a cell with Dugan. His hands knotted into fists to keep from choking him.

  Billy Roeder was a fighter with mean scars, grisly tattoos and a gut that he probably used to help him fend off attackers like a sumo wrestler.

  He was also dumb as a rock.

  “I told you, me and that pantywaist didn’t talk. Night one, I let him know who was boss of the cell.”

  So Dugan had been afraid of the man? Or had it been the other way around? Sometimes looks were deceiving.

  “He didn’t mention any old friends that might help him out?” Blackpaw asked calmly.

  Roeder shook his balding head. “All he did was brag about his money, his fancy lawyers and the women chasing him.”

  “What about a girlfriend or lover that he seemed to care about?”

  One of the man’s eyes twitched. “Had one that came. Heard she was dead.”

  Renee Balwinger.

  Miles leaned forward, arms braced on the table, his anger barely in check. “What about family? Did he mention any siblings, a half brother or cousin maybe?”

  Roeder tipped his chair back, his expression condescending. “What about me and the creep not being friends do you not understand?”

  “You shared a cell with him, Roeder. You must know something.”

  “I already talked to the cops a dozen times. Ask them.”

  “But you didn’t tell them anything.”