Last of the Red-Hot Riders (20 page)

Cameron took that in. If Judy and Ivy co-owned the Honky-tonk, Judy's message was basically that if Ivy revealed whatever Judy didn't want known, Judy would destroy the business. At that point, the Honky-tonk would likely go bankrupt, and that would negate the terms of the sisters' will, which stated that none of their joint property was ever to be sold. It would also ease the mayor's fears that somebody might one day learn that she co-owned property on which an illegal and undesirable business was being run.

“But that wasn't all,” Steel said, reminiscing as he set his cup back down. “You know that huge chandelier that hangs in the main room in front of the bar?”

Cameron nodded. She'd admired it several times. It was a stunning, many-branched chandelier from which crystal pendants hung like diamonds. “I do.”

“Judy went into the Honky-tonk, armed with black spray paint and a ladder, before anyone could stop her. My girl stands six feet in her boots, sometimes
taller—depending
on the heel, you know,” he said proudly. “It's kind of hard to stop her when she's in forward motion.”

Harper glanced at Cameron, no doubt thinking the same thought. “Did she spray it?”

“No, but Ivy got the message. Whatever was being negotiated between the two ladies was renegotiated in a hurry. Ivy was silenced, in return for Judy agreeing to stay away from the Honky-tonk for a year.”

No wonder Ivy had been so quick to spill Judy's newest information, if it was true. Ivy finally had golden payback that would make people wonder if Judy was physically fit to be mayor at the next election. And Ivy had known full well that Judy wouldn't want Steel to know about her health, any more than she wanted it known that she and Ivy were cousins. “How far do the records in the courthouse go back, Steel?”

“Well, at one time they went back pretty far.” Steel shrugged.
“Unfortunately,
this was in the days before computerized records, and our original courthouse burned in”—he wrinkled his brow—“1952.”

“The year you were born,” Cameron said, and he nodded.

“Yes. Cotton Carmichael and Jimmy Merrill did a fine job of running down paperwork and talking to the old-timers, most of whom have since passed to the next life. However, as you might expect, most of those records have been lost to time.”

Including any records that might have linked the two sisters who'd owned the lands and buildings. But Judy had come to town just fifteen years ago—changing it forever, according to anyone you talked to. She was always focused on building it up, making it better, which riled Ivy no end, as she liked the man-friendly focus of Hell. “Obviously, Ivy's mother was from here.”

“Yes, and strangely, so was Judy's. But she went away in 1953 and met a man she fell in love with, though never married. Judy was born in 1973, in Nashville.”

“Nashville!” Harper exclaimed.

He nodded. “I think that's where the Dolly Parton look-alike thing comes from.”

“So why did Judy come back here?” Cameron asked.

He grinned. “That was a fine day. I remember it well, when she rolled into town in her brand-spanking-new silver Lincoln.”

“That doesn't sound like Judy,” Harper observed.

“Naw. She sold that right away once she realized she was home to stay. Bought her first big-ass truck, as she likes to say, and has owned two more since.”

“Where did she get the Lincoln?” Cameron asked.

“I assumed from her country-star daddy.” Steel angled for one more cookie, his paw closing over it with impish deviltry. “She's never told me who her daddy is, so don't ask. I only know her mother never married.”

Did Steel know Judy and Ivy were cousins? Cameron couldn't ask, and he wouldn't say even if he did know. The fact that she and Harper had happened upon those papers indicating the relationship was an accident they could never reveal, if for no other reason than that it would be an admission they'd been snooping.

“Judy's the only person Eli Larson ever really related to,” Steel said slowly. “He just hasn't been right since she's been gone. Mind you, he's never right, not really. The Vietnam War really goofed up his head.” Steel looked sad. “But he adores Judy. Will do anything she wants him to. It's been tough trying to explain to him that Judy's away visiting family. He just keeps searching for her.” The sheriff sighed heavily. “So I can tell you don't think it's a good idea for me to pay a call on my girl.”

“Ask her, Steel,” Cameron said urgently. “Just ask her. Maybe she'll say yes. Then you don't run the risk of showing up and embarrassing her.”

“ ‘Embarrassing her'?” He crooked a brow at her, and Cameron drew in a sharp breath. “How in the world could I embarrass her?”

“Because women are always embarrassed when someone catches them in their rollers or without makeup or something,” Harper said smoothly. Cameron sent her a grateful glance.

“I've seen Judy in her rollers,” Steel said, and they both gazed at him quizzically.

“Okay, once I went over to her house because I thought I saw a burglar. I saw her in her rollers then,” he said reluctantly. “But it was just Eli looking for her. To be honest, she really doesn't let me see her without the full rigmarole. Says her mother taught her that a lady is never without her makeup and ready to greet the day. One never knows who might call on her,” he said, clearly repeating Judy's words.

“So there's your answer,” Harper said. “Just ask her if you can come out to see her.”

“I guess I will, now that I know she hasn't left Hell because of me.” He looked at Cameron narrowly. “I do know you're not telling all you know.”

“I only know what Ivy's told us, and I wouldn't repeat that if you jailed me because I don't know if it's true,” Cameron said honestly, though it seemed to her that the news was too awful and scary for even Ivy to have made up.

“In the meantime, before you leave for Houston, how about if I take you to say goodbye to Saint?” Steel asked.

“Oh, I don't think that's a good idea,” Cameron said. “Didn't we just discuss not surprising people?”

He nodded. “I think it'll be a bigger surprise if Saint comes back and finds you didn't say goodbye.”

It didn't matter.
She
wasn't coming back. And they didn't have some great love like the sheriff and the mayor did.

“Go, Cameron,” Harper said. “There's no harm in saying goodbye to a friend. I'll watch Anna.”

Anna came into the kitchen. “ ‘Watch Anna'? Anna's watching Michael. And we're watching Disney movies.” She grinned, looking like a happy teen again, which Cameron was glad to see. “In fact, we're just in here to grab snacks, and then we're putting
The Little Mermaid
on. Michael says he's never seen that one.”

Harper glanced at Cameron. “So go. Apparently in Hell it's important to say thank you and goodbye.”

“All right.” She looked at the sheriff. “I'll do it.”

“Good.” He rose. “How are you at using a paddleboard?”

Saint heard the faint footsteps long before they reached his hammock. He heard the caution, and the wary footfall of one who isn't sure of their surroundings. Lucky stirred, let out an excited flurry of barks before bounding off. Saint remained in his hammock, his hat over his face to keep out the fading sun dappling through the pines to which he'd attached his hammock.

So much for peace and quiet.

And yet, he admitted he wasn't unhappy to have this visitor, because his hearing was trained to pick up on nuances, and he'd known immediately who was paying him this unexpected call.

She, on the other hand, wasn't at all certain of how she'd be welcomed.

“What brings you to my island, Cameron?” he asked without removing his hat.

She got in the hammock beside him, a squirming Lucky delighted to be included in this communion of his two favorite humans. Saint heard her kick off her sandals, which landed with soft thuds on the needle-and-dirt floor below. “The excellent company you provide,” she said.

He grunted. No doubt sarcasm, if he knew his redhead at all, which he did.

“How'd you know where to find me?”

“Because Steel has a soft heart, and a bit of the meddling soul of the love of his life, our mayor.”

She leaned back companionably beside him, pulled Lucky up on her stomach. Lucky flopped his tail wildly, slashing the air with delight. Saint grunted again, not entirely displeased with this interruption of his sabbatical. “Why'd he send you?”

“Because smoke signals just don't communicate the same thing,” Cameron said. “What is this, the happy exile for ornery cowboys?”

“Maybe.” He shoved his hat back, turned to look at her because he could no longer resist it. Her brandywine hair wasn't tied back, as he thought it might be for a trip into the wilderness on a hot day. Instead, it rambled about her face in its usual explosion of curls. The funny thing about Cameron's hair was that it looked like it might smell like cinnamon, but instead it smelled like strawberries, a delicious scent that had enveloped him the moment she lay down next to him, punching him in the gut with sweet memories. He girded himself against them and checked out the white-eyelet sleeveless blouse. Freckles danced in a delicate V between her breasts, hinting at sexy delights if one could get past the white-eyelet protection her blouse provided. The blouse tied at her waist, begging to be undone, the buttons calling out to be tugged open so that he could shower kisses on a flat belly with which he was very familiar, but not as much as he wished to be. Jean shorts, short and sweet, adorned legs that went on for miles, each leg blessed with a slight smattering of those freckles he found so enticing.

He met the blue of her gaze.

“See something you like?” Cameron asked.

“I'm not sure,” he said, obviously lying but saving pride as fast as he could. This woman wanted to leave him, and though he might understand, that didn't mean he had to like it. And he didn't. “On the surface, it's all very sexy. But then no one likes a tease.”

“A tease!” She gently pushed Lucky's nose away as he tried to lick her chin. “How have I teased you?”

By making me fall in love with you. Then ripping out my heart.

“Why have you come?” He gazed at her steadily, not ceding an inch. “I know you too well, Cameron Dix. You've made the journey to say goodbye. So don't tease. Well, you can tease,” he said, adjusting his thoughts and his jeans
surreptitiously,
“but don't expect good results from it.”

She was quiet for a long moment. “You're right.”

“I know.” He plunked his hat back over his face. There was really nothing else to be said.

“I have to, Saint.”

“I'm not arguing with you.” From Steel's recent experience, Saint knew you couldn't keep a woman if she wanted to go; they did what they wanted to do. “But I will say I think it's a helluva waste.”

“Look.” She carefully put Lucky on the ground, then plucked his hat from his face, tossing it to the end of the hammock where he couldn't easily reach it. “You act like you're annoyed that I'm going, like we had some big love affair. But you know very well that we annoyed each other as much as we made love.”

“I annoyed
you,
” he said. “I'm an even kind of guy. You really didn't annoy me all that much. What was annoying was watching you tie yourself into a pretzel all the time trying to figure out what you wanted in life. And then using your sister as an excuse to ditch the big dream.”

She sucked in a breath. “That is not what happened.”

“Feels like it to me.” He waved an arm. “But don't let me stop you. I'm out here just so you can feel free to go without me looking like Sad Sam.”

“Why would you look like that?”

“As I told you, it's sad watching you give up your dream just because you got scared.”

“You're an ass. You know it's nothing like that.”

He rolled his head to look at her. “You're scared.”

“Why would you think I'm suddenly scared of bullfighting? I just need an income, Saint. I'm sorry that displeases you. Judy hasn't paid us in over a month. If the town hadn't replaced my tires, I'd be in a pickle.” She took a deep breath. “I know you won't like to hear this, but once Steel mentioned becoming a cop, I realized I really liked the idea.”

“I know all of that. What you quit on was me. On us.”

Her lips parted, rosy, plump petals opening like a flower. It reminded him of the other plump petals of hers he so enjoyed, which gave further urgency to the erection he couldn't quite conceal.

“There wasn't anything to quit on. Neither of us were looking for a serious relationship.”

That was true. He hadn't been looking. In fact, he hadn't wanted the interruption or inconvenience in his life a woman would bring. But then Cameron had happened to him, and it burned like fire that he wasn't as necessary to her as she was to him. Damn it, he barely slept at night without dreaming about her or reaching out to see if she was in bed next to him. When he'd awaken and realize his arms were empty because she wasn't there, he was always struck by a deep loneliness and a cratering sense of loss.

It wasn't something he cared to do for very much longer. In fact, he dreaded the thought.

“You might as well go,” he told her. “You interrupt a man's solitude at your peril.”

“I don't feel imperiled.”

They lay there together companionably, with Lucky under the hammock, enjoying the shade of their bodies through the webbing and the slight casting of sun slowly setting through the pines. Cameron had brought a bone for Lucky, sneaking it out of her back pocket when she thought Saint wasn't paying attention, but Lucky hadn't yet learned to be secretive about his treats. He snacked and gnawed with enthusiasm underneath them, an amusing accompaniment to the birdsong and slight breeze that might otherwise have been romantic.

“He's loud,” Cameron observed.

Saint heard the smile in her voice. His erection wasn't getting any less insistent, nor did she seem inclined to go away as he'd requested. Not that he'd ever have expected Cameron to do anything just because he or anyone else wanted her to. But then again, he didn't really want her to go.

Damn him, he wanted her to quit trying to leave him. It was annoying—no, it was depressing. But he had no intention of expressing his true feelings to her. He could tell she wanted to go; nothing he could say would change her mind. So he kept his mouth shut. “He's just about finished teething, I think. That chewing you hear is being done with newly erupted adult teeth.”

They swung together for a while longer until the sun had finally set and fireflies drifted through the pines with their yellow flashes. “I'm going to grill a burger. I don't suppose you're leaving?”

“I think I'll stay and see if you can actually start a fire.”

He glanced around. “How did you get across the creek, anyway?”

“Steel showed me how to use a paddleboard.”

He turned his head to stare at her. “And you just came right on across.”

She faced him. “I'm here, aren't I?”

It was unconventional transportation for a first-timer, but Cameron was fit and had good coordination. “I thought he would have rowed you over in his canoe.”

“He never mentioned a canoe.”

His brow rose involuntarily as he pondered this. “He never mentioned to me he had a paddleboard, either.”

Cameron smiled. “It's actually pretty fun.”

“I'm having trouble seeing Steel using one.”

“Maybe he borrowed it.”

Saint grunted. “No one in Hell has a paddleboard.”

“Someone does now.” She smiled at him when he glanced at her, and he wished he could kiss her.

But that would only prolong his pain. He didn't want his pain prolonged, but he couldn't send her away on her paddleboard in the darkness. He supposed he could take her back in the rowboat, but the truth was, he didn't want to do that, either. Putting Lucky, a paddleboard and pole, and Cameron in his rowboat sounded like a lot of effort better expended on grilling burgers. “Well done or medium well for your burger?”

“However you have yours.” She caught his hand before he could leave the hammock. “Don't stay mad all night.”

“I'm not.” He really wasn't. What he was was resigned.

Her eyes searched his, her fingers on his arm. “Can I help cook dinner?”

“No. You'd be no use rubbing two twigs together to start the fire.”

“Two twigs?” She smiled. “We could be here all night.”

He liked the sound of that. “We could.”

“Yet I think I saw a small bag of charcoal near your cabin there, and perhaps a small Weber. But don't let me spoil the story.”

He knew she was smiling, amused by his teasing. Saint pushed himself off the hammock, went to spill briquettes into the grill. He and Declan and Trace had long ago brought out a few very slight amenities to pamper their self-induced exiles from time to time. No electricity ran to the cabin, though, so if Cameron was expecting anything other than flashlight and candlelight, she'd be disappointed. There was a kerosene lamp, but he didn't like using that, usually suffering through with a huge flashlight that was more like a spotlight. When he was at the cabin, all he wanted was peace and quiet. He wasn't getting that right now, though.

Switching on a flashlight with a wide beam, he set it near his supplies. Lucky hadn't come over to inspect his work, and he realized Cameron had scooped his dog back up into the hammock with her. Lucky beast.

He got the coals glowing to his satisfaction, cracked a beer. Drank it straight down, hoping to take the edge off his erection, which seemed to have an enduring life of its own. “Want a beer?”

“Love one.”

He carried one over to her, popping it open and handing it to her silently. She took it just as silently. Lucky didn't move from Cameron's side, and once again, he reminded himself that dogs were not allowed in his hammock.

Saint went back to his grill and tossed on the burgers, pulled out the small sack of dog food and poured some into Lucky's bowl. That brought the disloyal mutt bounding down from the hammock—but a moment later, Saint realized it had also brought Cameron near to the grill, where she sank down on his folding chair to gaze at him.

His heart thundered in his throat. Long legs gleamed in the moonlight—legs for days, it seemed to his hungry gaze. Bare arms gleamed pale, and a ribbon of skin between her jean shorts and the tied-off shirt caught his eyes.

He had to stop staring. Tossing the burgers onto the small charcoal grill almost defensively, he busied himself tending the food while Lucky snacked on his dinner.

“Did you come out here to get away from me?” Cameron asked.

“Partly,” he admitted. “It was also time for a break from Hell.”

“So if we ever had a relationship, I could count on you coming out here to get away from me anytime we had a tiff.”

“Yes, but you can see how much good it does me.” He pointed at her with his long-handled spatula. “Here you are, eating my burgers, drinking my beer, and generally invading my space.”

“So you're saying you're glad I came?” she asked, cocking her head.

His head spun a little as he tried to breathe past the sexual desire, and past the deep, driving emotion he felt for her. “I'm going to eat this hamburger, and you're going to eat yours, and then I'm putting you back on your paddleboard and sending you back to your side of the creek.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

That was it. She was agreeing to leave.

He should have been relieved that he'd be sleeping alone tonight, without Cameron there to drive him mad.

He wasn't relieved at all.