Cowboy to the Rescue

“My pleasure,” he said as he took the seat next to her. “And be careful with that thing. Cook pours in a lethal amount of tequila. You might want to drink it slowly. Not everyone can handle liquor like my mother,” he added teasingly.

Geraldine scowled at her son. “Lex! You’ll have Christina thinking I’m a sot! I only have one or two of these in the evenings and sometimes none at all!”

“Yeah, but one or two of those things would kick my head right off my shoulders,” replied Lex.

Although he spoke in a joking tone, Christina was inclined to believe he was being more or less truthful. The sip she’d taken from her own glass was like a cold jolt of lightning. Her father would love this, she thought wryly. But then, she had to give the man credit. He’d not touched alcohol in five years and was getting his life in order again.

Christina smiled at her hostess. “It’s delicious.”

She could feel more than see Lex watching her.

“So tell me about being a private investigator,” he prompted. “Have you always done this sort of job?”

She turned her gaze on him, then wished she hadn’t. He had such a raw sex appeal that each time she gazed squarely at his tanned face and beach-blond hair, she felt her stomach clench, her breath catch.

Stop it, Christina! You’re not a teenager. You’re a thirty-three-year-old woman who understands firsthand how a good-looking man can wreak havoc on a woman’s common sense.

“No. I was twenty-two when I first went into law enforcement for the San Antonio Police Department. I remained on the force there for four years. Then I had an offer for an office position with the Texas Rangers. I worked there five more years before I finally decided I wanted to go into business for myself.”

He casually crossed his ankles out in front of him, and from beneath her lowered lashes, Christina followed the long length of his legs with her eyes, all the way down to the square toes of his boots. If there was ever a complete description of a Texas cowboy, Lex Saddler was it.

“So what made you interested in law enforcement?” he asked. “Did you follow a relative into that profession?”

Christina might have laughed if the reality of her family situation hadn’t been so sad. Her father had fought his own demons while trying to work in a family business that he’d had little or no interest in. And then there was her mother, who had flitted from one man to the next in hopes of finding happiness. No, her parents had lacked the dedication it took to work in law enforcement.

“None of my relatives have been in law enforcement of any sort. I just happened to find it interesting. I decided I wanted to spend my time helping folks find lost loved ones. Most of my cases consist of missing persons.”

His brows arched slightly. “Well, my father is hardly missing, Christina. He’s in the Sandbur cemetery. Along with the other family members that have passed on.”

Her chin lifted a fraction. “I said I work mostly on missing-person cases, Lex. I didn’t say I worked on those types of cases exclusively.”

Geraldine eased forward in her chair. “Unfortunately, my daughters Nicci and Mercedes couldn’t be here this evening. But they’re agreeable to what I decide, and Lex has promised to keep them informed. They, like Lex, have had doubts about their father’s death. But none of them wanted to voice them out loud.”

He grimaced as though the whole subject was something he didn’t want to ponder. “Well, hell, Mom, we’ve all had our doubts. But I want to believe the police. They concluded that a heart attack contributed to his drowning. The police and county coroner made a ruling. Why can’t you accept their findings? What can Christina do that they’ve not already done?”

Geraldine swallowed down the last of her drink and set her glass aside. “I’ll tell you what. She can look into all the weird things that were going on just before your father died.”

Lex drew his feet back to him and sat up in his chair. “I was living right here at home at the time, and I don’t recall anything that weird going on. Dad was a little stressed out, but we all get like that at one time or another,” he reasoned.

Geraldine sighed as she darted a glance at Christina, then her son. “Lex, when Paul’s accident happened, I tried to tell you and your sisters that all had not been right with your father. Something was troubling him. I tried to get him to tell me what was going on, but he always gave me evasive replies and danced around my questions. That was totally out of character for Paul. I have no idea if his odd behavior had any connection to his death, but now with Wolfe wanting me to become a part of his life, I need to know what your father was doing and why. I don’t want anything from the past to hurt Wolfe’s chances for the future.”

Lex was clearly disturbed by his mother’s remarks, and for a moment, Christina expected him to jump to his feet and stalk off the porch. Instead, he thrust a frustrated hand through his hair.

“Surely you can’t think that Dad was doing anything wrong!”

The older woman held her palms upward in a gesture that asked her son to understand. “Lex, I believe your father was an honest man until the day he died. But something was going on in his life that we didn’t know about. That’s why I’ve hired Christina. To figure it all out.”

This seemed to trouble Lex even more, and he left his chair to pace back and forth in front of his mother. “Damn it, Mother, I understand that there are loose ends to Dad’s life that you’d like to have explained. But I can’t see the point in digging up something that is just downright painful. It won’t bring Dad back. Nothing can. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go see if Cook has supper ready.”

Before Christina or Geraldine could say a word, he left the porch and entered the house.

With a weary sigh, Geraldine dropped her head in her hand. “I’m sorry, Christina. Before I hired you, Lex tried to dissuade me. He believes it’s better to let sleeping dogs lie. But now that you’re here…he’ll accept my choice to find the truth. Just be patient with him.”

Despite her calm demeanor, Christina could see that the woman was upset by her son’s reluctant attitude.

Rising from her chair, Christina moved close enough to lay a reassuring hand on the matriarch’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Geraldine. I’m sure your son is a reasonable person. He’ll eventually understand that you and your whole family deserve to know the real truth of Paul’s situation at the time of his death.”

Smiling wanly, Geraldine nodded. “I’d better go have a talk with him. I want him to be sociable when he comes to the supper table. You might not believe it, but Lex is actually a very charming guy.”

Oh, I believe it all right, Christina thought dryly. But he was clearly a strong-minded guy, too, and she wondered what it was going to take for Geraldine to draw him around to her way of thinking.

Patting Geraldine’s shoulder, she said, “If you don’t mind, I wish you’d let me talk to him. I think I know what he needs to hear, and it might be easier coming from an outsider instead of a relative.”

With a grateful smile, Geraldine gestured toward the front door of the house, and Christina took off with a hurried stride. She wanted to find Mr. Cowboy before he had a chance to etch his mindset in stone.

Inside the house, Christina headed straight to the kitchen, and even before she pushed through the swinging doors, she could hear his voice echoing off the low-beamed ceiling.

“—she’s doing! It’s a hell of a thing to see the mother I’ve always admired so wrapped up in a man that she can’t see how she’s upsetting the rest of the family! I—”

Not wanting to be an eavesdropper, Christina took a deep breath and pushed on into the room. Lex immediately heard the sound of her footsteps and whirled away from the tall, black-haired woman working at a huge gas range.

Surprised, he stepped toward her. “Are you looking for something?” he asked.

Giving him her best smile, Christina walked over to him. “Yes, I’m looking for you.”

For one brief moment a sheepish look crossed his face, telling Christina that in spite of his quick exit from the porch, the man apparently possessed enough innate manners to be embarrassed at the way he’d behaved.

“I’m sorry I left the porch so abruptly, Christina, but I’m—not in the mood to discuss this thing about Dad right now.”

Still smiling, she shrugged. “I think we should. Otherwise, none of us will enjoy our meal.” She glanced over his shoulder at the woman standing at the range. Before she’d arrived at the Sandbur, Geraldine had told her a bit about Hattie, known to most everyone as simply Cook, including the fact that she was seventy-two and had worked on the ranch for nearly fifty years. Clearly, she was a part of the family, too, so Christina didn’t see any reason not to speak freely in front of her. “And from the smell of this room, I can’t wait to sample Cook’s dishes.”

Picking up on Christina’s comment, Cook said, “This young lady has some common sense, Lex. Not like those tarts you associate yourself with. You’d better listen to this one.”

Tossing Cook an annoyed glare, Lex reached for Christina’s arm. “All right. Come along and we’ll step out back.”

On the opposite wall of the kitchen, they passed through a paned glass door and onto a large patio covered with an arbor of honeysuckle vines. The scent from the blossoms was heavenly, but Christina could hardly pause to enjoy it. After several long steps, Lex turned to face her.

“Okay, say what you feel you need to, and let’s get this over with.”

Refusing to allow his bluntness to get to her, she put on her most composed face.

“First of all, I’ve known your mother for only three weeks. But after the first conversation I had with her, it was obvious to me that she loved her late husband very much—that they had a very special relationship. If it took me only a few minutes to recognize that, I wonder why you can’t see it after—” Her brows arched inquisitively. “What? Thirty-five years?”

“Good guess. But my age has nothing to do with this.” Glancing away from her, he paused, then spoke again. “Listen, I’m not doubting my mother’s love for my father. But now—well, I’m having a hell of a problem with these motives of hers. Especially the part about Wolfe Maddson.” He planted a stare directly on her face. “The cause of my father’s death should have nothing to do with their relationship, and I resent that she thinks it does.”

The man wasn’t annoyed, she realized; he was hurting. He believed his mother was betraying him and his father’s memory. And Christina wasn’t altogether sure that he was wrong. If she were in his shoes, she couldn’t say she would be behaving any differently. But her job was not to judge, but to follow the wishes of her client.

“Look,” she tried to reason, “it’s important to your mother to have the truth—whatever that truth might be.”