Men to Trust: Boss Man / The Last Good Man in Texas / Lonetree Ranchers: Brant

Mr. Kemp was a notorious loner. He never took women to his house. If he was entertaining Violet on the weekend, something was going on. She knew it was all over town if even Duke Wright knew about her visit. She wondered if the gossip had gotten back to Blake and that’s why he hadn’t phoned her. Of course, he could be feeling regret at his loss of control as well. She was feeling something similar. Her only excuse was that she loved him. Sadly, she knew it wasn’t the same with him. Desire wasn’t love.

Violet spent a sleepless night worrying about her lapse of judgment at Kemp’s house, and his avoidance of her. She couldn’t forget what her mother had said, about his attitude toward children. She hoped with all her heart that there wouldn’t be consequences. Surely, she couldn’t get pregnant from one brief interlude!

She went to work the next morning and found Duke Wright making coffee. He glanced up when she came in the door, and smiled at her.

“I’ve got to be out of town today. Think you can hold the office together until I get back?”

“I’ll do my best, sir,” she promised.

“If Kemp shows up, you can have a long lunch hour,” he added with a grin. “But don’t let him know I said that.”

“He’s not a bad man.”

“You don’t have my perspective on him,” Duke replied quietly.

She was aware of that. Duke’s divorce had been a messy one, and he blamed Kemp for his wife’s unreasonable demands. She didn’t say a word.

He shrugged. “Sorry. I have bad memories. I’ll see you tomorrow, Violet.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. “Have a safe trip.”

“I hope to.”

She watched him walk out with a sense of foreboding. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on.

And it was. Kemp walked into his office and motioned Libby Collins back down the hall with him.

He told her the results of the state crime lab’s autopsy on her father, which was negative.

She was relieved, and showed it.

“But the opposite was true of Violet’s father,” he said quietly. “Don’t tell her, and don’t tell Curt until I’ve had time to get out to Wright’s ranch. I’m going to tell Violet in person and then take her home and help her break the news to her mother. It’s going to be an ordeal for them. If we can catch Janet Collins, we’ll charge her with first degree murder. Violet and her mother will both have to testify, and it will resurrect some terrible memories for old Mrs. Hardy. I’m not sure her heart will take it.”

“What can be done?”

He shrugged. “The only thing I know is to try and reach a plea agreement, if I can talk the D.A. into it. If Janet can expect something less than life in prison, she might confess. I’ll have to see. Right now, my priority is to make sure Violet doesn’t hear it on the six o’clock news. There were reporters sniffing around this afternoon.”

“Poor Violet,” Libby said sadly. “Please, tell her if she needs me, I’ll be there.”

“I will. But I’m sure she knows it already. Hold down the fort for me.”

“You bet.”

All the way to Duke Wright’s place, Kemp worried about Violet’s reaction. He was still aching from their brief interlude, and he was uneasy about facing Violet again. She was a shy, introverted woman who’d had no real experience with men. He’d taken advantage of that. She might hate him for it. Just the same, he had to do what he could for her and her mother. It wasn’t going to be easy for either of them to face the fact that Mr. Hardy had been murdered.

Violet was just finishing the last of the new cattle herd files when she heard footsteps coming into her office.

She looked up, and her heart jumped wildly as she saw Blake Kemp for the first time since their passionate afternoon. She colored furiously as he came into the room and paused just in front of her desk. He looked very elegant in a pale gray vested suit, not a hair out of place. His blue eyes were quiet and sympathetic as they met hers.

“Is something wrong?” she asked at once, uneasy because of the way he looked.

“Yes, Violet,” he replied. “We have to speak to your mother. Will Wright let you leave early?”

“He’s not here today,” she faltered. She stood up. “What’s happened?”

“We just got the results back on your father’s autopsy. He was poisoned, Violet. It wasn’t a natural death. It was murder.”

Murder. Murder. She felt the blood draining out of her face. Janet Collins had killed her father.

“That woman,” she bit off. “That damned, greedy woman killed my father!”

He moved around the desk quickly and pulled her into his arms, wrapping her up tight. “It’s all right,” he murmured softly at her ear, contracting his arms when she began to shiver. “We’ll make her pay for it. I swear we will.”

She’d felt shock and then anger. Now she felt grief well up in her like water behind a dam. She’d loved her father, despite his faults. How in the world was her mother going to react to the news?

“It will kill Mama,” she choked, sliding her arms around Blake’s waist.

“No, it won’t,” he assured her. “She’s stronger than she looks. But I think you and I should both break the news to her.”

“Yes. Thank you,” she added belatedly.

He drew in a long breath. Odd, how right she felt in his arms. He’d ached for her for the past few days. This was like coming home.

She loved the comfort of his embrace. Except for her mother, she’d had little real affection in her life. It was wonderful to melt into his muscular body and let him absorb all her worries, all her fears. He made her feel secure, protected.

His hand smoothed over her hair, enjoying its softness.

Footsteps interrupted them. Curt came into the room, stopped dead, and started to go back out again, faintly embarrassed.

Blake saw him and released Violet. “She’s had some bad news,” he told the other man. “It will be all over town soon enough, so you might as well know now. Her father was poisoned.”

“By my stepmother?” Curt asked miserably.

Blake nodded. “Very probably.”

Curt grimaced. “Violet, I’m so sorry.”

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. They felt swollen and hot. “It’s not your fault, Curt,” she said sadly. “You and Libby have suffered because of her, too. We’re all victims.”

“And we can’t find her,” Curt muttered angrily.

“We will,” Blake said firmly. “I swear we will.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Curt asked.

Violet shook her head. “But thanks anyway. We’re going to tell Mama. I hope it isn’t going to be too much for her.”

Blake smiled faintly as Violet went to gather up her things. “I think you’ll find that your mother is going to want vengeance more than sympathy when she knows the truth.”