McCullen's Secret Son (The Heroes Of Horseshoe Creek Book 2) (9 page)

BOOK: McCullen's Secret Son (The Heroes Of Horseshoe Creek Book 2)
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For several minutes they worked, digging deeper, but suddenly a gunshot sounded and pinged off the rock beside him.

Brett threw an arm around Willow and pushed her down, just as a second bullet whizzed by their heads.

Chapter Eleven

“Who’s shooting at us?” Willow cried.

“I don’t know, but the shot is coming from behind that boulder.” Brett gestured toward the bushes beside the falls. “Run behind those bushes.”

Willow remained hunkered down, but crept toward the left by the brush. Another shot pinged off the rocks at their feet, and he grabbed her hand and dragged her from the ledge behind some rocks.

“Stay down, Willow.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Find out who the hell is firing at us.”

Willow grabbed his arm to hold him back. “Please don’t go, Brett. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m not going to wait here like a sitting duck.” Brett ushered her down to the ground, then grabbed his shovel and circled back behind more bushes and trees so he could sneak up on the shooter.

Rocks skittered and a man scrambled down a path. Brett chased after him, but the man veered to the right and cut through a patch of brush to a black sedan parked behind a boulder.

Brett looked back and motioned for Willow to meet him at the car. She took off running, and he jogged down the path, trying to catch up with the shooter. By the time they reached the truck, the sedan roared away.

Brett tossed the shovel into the back of the truck, grabbed his rifle and started the engine. Willow jumped inside, looking shaken. He hit the accelerator and sped behind the sedan, determined to catch him.

“Can you see the tag number?”

Willow leaned forward and squinted as the driver spun onto a side dirt road. “SJ3... I can’t see the rest.”

The truck bounced over ruts in the road, spitting dust and gravel as he closed the distance. Tires squealed and the driver sped up, trees and brush flying past as he maneuvered a turn. A tire blew and the car swerved. The driver tried to regain control, but he overcompensated and the car spun in a circle, then careened toward a thicket of trees.

The passenger side slammed into the massive trunk, glass shattering and spraying the air and ground.

Brett grabbed his rifle as he slowed to a stop, and motioned for Willow to stay inside the truck.

“Be careful, Brett. He tried to kill us.”

He certainly had, and Brett aimed to find out the reason. And if the bastard had Sam, he’d shove this rifle down his throat.

He raised the gun in front of him, scrutinizing the car as he inched forward. The passenger side was crunched, but the driver’s side was intact. Still, the front windshield had shattered, and he didn’t see movement inside.

Instincts as alert as they were when he climbed on a bull, he crept closer, his eyes trained on the driver. Daylight was waning, the sun sinking behind clouds that threatened rain, the temperature dropping.

He kept the gun aimed as he carefully opened the car door. It screeched, but opened enough for him to see that the driver was alive. Blood dotted his forehead where he’d hit his head.

Brett jammed the gun to the man’s temple, then snagged him by the shirt collar so he could see his face. White, about forty years old, scruffy face, scar above his right eye.

“Who the hell are you?” Brett asked.

The man groaned and tried to open his eyes. He wiped at the blood with the back of his hand. Brett jammed the tip of the rifle harder against his skull, and the man stiffened.

“Don’t shoot, buddy. Please don’t kill me.”

“You tried to kill me and the woman I was with.” Anger hardened his tone. “I want to know the reason.”

“I wasn’t going to kill you,” the man said, his voice cracking. “I just wanted to scare you off.”

Brett clenched his jaw but kept the gun at the man’s head. “Why?”

“Because Eleanor called and said she thought you knew where the money was.”

So Eleanor had lied
. “Was she working with Leo or
sleeping
with him?” Brett asked.

“Neither, I’m Eleanor’s husband, Ralph,” the man said. “She takes care of Leo’s grandmother. Leo stayed with her for a while, then moved out.”

“Where did he move?”

“I don’t know. He told Eleanor he’d pay her to be the old lady’s nurse, but then he left her high and dry, and me and Eleanor have been trying to pay the bills.”

“I thought she said she didn’t know Leo.”

“She didn’t. They set it up over the phone.”

Unfortunately he believed the man. Leo had been scum through and through.

The man fidgeted. “Did you find the money?”

“You know about the money?” Brett asked.

“Leo’s grandmother told us he had a big bagful. She wanted it to help us. And Leo owes us—”

“We haven’t found any cash,” Brett said. “And before you ask, I was not working with Leo. He’s a dirt bag who
stole
that money. He married the woman you were shooting at and lied to her, then he turned up dead. The people he betrayed kidnapped her son.”

The man’s eyes widened in shock. “Leo’s dead.”

“Yeah and if I don’t find that money, that little boy may be, too.” Brett gripped him tighter. “Do you know where he is?”

The man shook his head back and forth, his eyes panicked. “No, I like kids. I’d never do anything to hurt one.”

“What about the men Leo was in cahoots with? Did you know them?”

“No, I swear. When Leo called Eleanor to hire her, she said he seemed nervous. But she likes geriatric patients and wanted to help the old woman.”

“She didn’t mention a name, or maybe a place Leo said he was going when he left that house? Maybe another address?”

He shook his head again. “If he had, I would have paid him a visit myself. When you showed up, we thought you might lead us back to him.”

Brett released the man with a silent curse.

He turned and walked back toward Willow, hating that he had no answers yet.

* * *

W
ILLOW
COULDN

T
BELIEVE
her eyes. Brett was letting the man who’d tried to kill them go.

“Who was he?” Willow asked as soon as he returned to the truck. “Why was he shooting at us?”

“Eleanor’s husband. The woman in the wheelchair was Leo’s grandmother. He hired Eleanor as a caretaker, but ran off without paying her.”

“He really was awful,” Willow said, her heart going out to the elderly woman.

“Apparently Eleanor and her husband were desperate financially. They thought you and I knew where Leo was, or at least where his money was, so he followed us. He wasn’t trying to kill us, just scare us off so he could take the cash.”

“So Leo wrecked that couple’s lives, just like he did mine.” Willow grimaced. Of course it was her fault for trusting him, for allowing him to be around Sam.

Brett started the truck and drove back toward the falls. When he parked this time, he managed to get closer to the area where they were digging. He carefully scanned for anyone else who might have followed.

“You can stay in the truck, Willow. I have to see if the money is there.”

“No, I’m going with you.”

Again, they grabbed the shovels and strode to the ridge, then ducked below the falls. The hole they’d started was still there, so he jammed the shovel in and continued to dig for the money.

Minutes ticked by, the wind picking up as rain began to fall, slashing them with the cold moisture. By the time he’d dug a few feet, the shovel hit rock. “It’s not here.”

“It has to be,” Willow said, desperate.

Brett wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve. “Let me try a different spot.”

They spent the next hour digging around the original location, but again and again, hit stone.

Finally Willow leaned against a boulder. “If he put it here, someone must have already found it.”

“Or he moved it,” Brett said.

Willow shivered from the cold and the ugly truth. Another night was setting in.

Another night she’d have to wonder where her little boy was and if she’d ever see him again.

* * *

T
HEY
MADE
THE
DRIVE
back to Horseshoe Creek in silence. Brett hated the strain on Willow’s face, but he understood her fear because he felt it in his bones.

He’d been certain that map would lead them to the money.

But Leo could have already retrieved the cash and moved it. Only where had he put it?

Maddox’s truck was parked at the main house, so Brett bypassed it and drove straight to the cabin. “Was there any place that was significant to Leo? A place he liked to go riding?”

Willow rubbed her forehead. “Not that I know of.”

“How about a place he took you and Sam?”

She looked out the window, as if she was lost in thought. “Honestly, Brett, Leo never spent much time with Sam.”

He gritted his teeth. The poor kid. He needed a father. And it sounded like Leo hadn’t been one at all.

Brett thought about his own father and how much he missed him now. They’d clashed over the years, but even when Joe McCullen was hard on him, Brett had known it was because his old man cared about him. That he was trying to raise him to be a decent man.

They walked up to the cabin together, and he unlocked the door. He ached for his father, for Willow and for her son, who was probably scared right now and wanted his mother.

“I’m sorry he let you down, Willow.” He turned to her, his heart in his throat. “I’m sorry I let you down, too.”

Willow’s face crumpled, and tears trickled down her eyes. “Brett, what if—”

“Shh.”
He pulled her into his arms and stroked her hair. “Don’t think like that. These guys want that money. If we don’t find the cash Leo stole, I’ll pay. I already called my financial manager and he’s working on liquidating some funds.”

Willow looked up at him with such fear and tenderness that he knew he’d do anything in the world to make it right for her. Then she lifted her hand to his cheek, and he couldn’t resist.

He dipped his head and closed his mouth over hers.

Overwhelmed with affection for her, he cradled her gently, and deepened the kiss, telling her with his mouth how much he cared for her. How much he’d missed her.

How much he wanted to alleviate her pain.

Willow leaned into him and ran her hands up his back, clinging to him just as she once had when they were friends and lovers. Regret for the years he’d missed with her swelled inside him.

He stroked her hair, then dropped kisses into it, then down her ear and neck and throat. She rubbed his calf with her foot, stoking his desire, and he cupped her hips and pressed her closer to him.

Need and hunger ignited between them, and their kisses turned frenzied and more passionate. He inched her backward toward the sofa.

But his phone buzzed, and they pulled apart. Their ragged breathing punctuated the air as he checked the caller ID.
Unknown
.

He punched Connect. “Brett McCullen.”

A second passed.

“Hello?”

“Mr. McCullen, you talked to my husband, Gus, today at the prison.”

Brett straightened. “Yes. I was hoping he could help me. Did he give you my number?”

“Yes, although he didn’t want me to call. But he explained to me about the little boy. I’m...sorry.”

Brett frowned.

“I...think I might be able to help.”

“You can help?
How?

“I can’t discuss this over the phone. Can you meet me?”

“Of course. Just tell me the place.”

“The Wagon Wheel. An hour.”

The Wagon Wheel was a restaurant/bar near Laramie. “I’ll be there.”

Chapter Twelve

“Who was that?” Willow asked when Brett pocketed his phone and reached for his hat.

“Gus Garcia’s wife. She wants to meet me tonight.”

Willow’s heart jumped to her throat. “She knows where Sam is.”

Brett grabbed his keys. “She didn’t say. But if she has any information that might lead to that money, I need to go.”

Willow reached for her jacket, but Brett placed his hand on her arm.

“I can handle this if you want to stay here and rest.”

Willow shook her head. “No way. Besides, if this woman holds back, maybe I can appeal to her on a woman-to-woman basis.”

Brett’s mouth twitched slightly. “I can’t argue with that.”

The wind splattered them with light raindrops as they ran to his truck. As Brett drove toward The Wagon Wheel, silence fell between them, thick with fear for Sam. Still, Willow couldn’t help but remember the kiss they’d shared. A hot, passionate, hungry kiss that only made her crave another.

And reminded her how much she’d loved Brett.

And how painful it had been when he’d left her years ago.

She couldn’t allow herself to hope that they could rekindle that love. And when Brett discovered Sam was his...

She’d face that when they got her little boy back.

It took half an hour to reach The Wagon Wheel, a bar/restaurant that specialized in barbecue and beer. Pickups, SUVs and a couple of motorcycles filled the parking lot, the wooden wheel lit up against the darkness.

Willow pulled her scarf over her head as they hurried to the door. Country music blared from the inside as they entered. The place was rustic with deer and elk heads, saddles, saddle blankets and other ranch tools on the walls. Wood floors, pine benches and tables, and checkered tablecloths gave it a cozy country feel.

Willow dug her hands in her jacket pockets. “How do we recognize her?”

Brett shrugged, but his phone buzzed with a text. When he looked down, the message said,
Back booth on the right.

“That way.” Brett led Willow to the rear of the restaurant where a small Hispanic woman with big dark eyes sat with her hands knotted on the table.

“Mrs. Garcia?”

She nodded, her gaze darting over Willow, then she looked back down at her hands as if wrestling with whether or not to flee.

Willow covered the woman’s hand with her own and they slid into the booth. “I appreciate you meeting us. My name is Willow. Tell me your name.”

“Valeria,” the woman said in a low voice. “I...my husband will be upset that I come.”

Willow squeezed her hand. “I don’t want to cause you trouble, but my son is missing, Valeria, and I need help.”

Valeria gave them both a wary look. “You don’t understand. My husband...he not talk because he scared for me and little Ana Sofia.”

Willow’s heart pounded. “Ana Sofia?”

“Our little girl. She’s eight.” Valeria pulled a photo from her handwoven purse and showed it to them. “She...is so sweet and so tiny. And Gus went to prison so those bad men wouldn’t kill us.”

Willow tensed. “Someone threatened your little girl?”

Valeria nodded and curled her fingers into Willow’s. But she looked directly at Brett, her eyes pleading, “If I talk to you, you take us some place where they can’t hurt us?”

Brett spoke through clenched teeth. “Yes, ma’am. I promise. I’ll pay for protection for you myself.”

* * *

B
RETT
HAD
NO
patience for any man who would hurt a woman. “Who threatened you and your daughter, Valeria?”

“If I tell you, they may hurt my Gus.”

“He’s in prison,” Willow said.

Brett understood Mrs. Garcia’s fear, though. If someone wanted to get to Gus, they could.

“No one will know about this conversation,” Brett assured her.

“Just tell us what happened,” Willow said softly.

Valeria pulled her hand from Willow’s and twisted them together in her lap. “

. I do this for the little boy, miss. I cannot stand for anyone to hurt children.”

“Neither can I,” Willow said, a look of motherly understanding passing between the two women.

“You see, Gus, he work for this rancher named Boyle Gates. Mr. Gates have big spread, but some say he cheat and steal so he be biggest, wealthiest rancher in Wyoming.”

“What exactly did Gus do for Gates?” Brett asked.

“He was ranch hand,” Valeria said. “Gus proud man. He work hard. But one day Mr. Gates accuse him of stealing money from his safe in house. My Gus not do it, but man named Dale Franklin say he saw Gus take it.”

“Dale Franklin? He died, didn’t he?”

“Yes.” Her voice quivered. “Gus think they kill him. He was working with a rustling cattle ring. They tell Gus they do same to him and us if he not help them.”

“What exactly did they want him to do?” Brett asked.

She dabbed at her eyes with a colorful handkerchief. “Steal cattle.” Her lip quivered. “Gus not want to, but they say they fix things with Mr. Gates so he keep job and they pay him, too. He still say no, but then they talk about hurting me and our Ana Sofia, he go along.”

“And when the men were caught, Gus took the fall to protect you.”

She nodded, her eyes blurring with tears. “Gus try to be good in prison so he get out one day. That reason he not talk to you.”

“You said
they
, but you only mentioned a man named Dale Franklin. Who else was involved?” Willow asked.

Valeria looked nervous again, but Brett assured her once more that he would protect her and her child. “I’ll also do whatever I can to help Gus get paroled. Just give me the men’s names.”

Valerie heaved a big breath. “Jasper Day and Wally Norman.”

“Do they still work for Mr. Gates?” Brett asked.

She shrugged. “I think Mr. Norman, he wind up in prison, too. Not sure he still there.”

“Valeria, whoever is holding Sam believes Leo Howard had that money and stashed it somewhere. Do you or Gus know where he would have hidden it?”

She shook her head no. “Mr. Howard was leader. Gus said he was brains.”

Brains without a conscience
.

Brett wished the bastard was still alive so he could beat the hell out of him. Because of him, Willow’s little boy was in danger.

“Valeria, where is your little girl now?”

“At Miss Vera’s. I clean her house.”

“Let us follow you and pick up Ana Sofia. There’s an extra cabin on my family’s ranch where the two of you can stay. You’ll be safe there.”

Willow took Valeria’s hands in hers. “I promise, no one will look for you at Horseshoe Creek.”

Brett’s gut tightened. He should discuss this with Maddox first, but Horseshoe Creek was as much his land as it was his brother’s.

That is, until he sold his share to Maddox. Then he would have no stake in the land. No ties to it himself.

Was that what he wanted?

No, but he’d do it for Sam.

* * *

W
ILLOW
FOLLOWED
V
ALERIA
inside the small shack where Valeria lived. Ever since her husband had been incarcerated, the poor woman had been cleaning Ms. Vera’s house, as well as rooms at a motel to put food on the table.

Willow didn’t condone Mr. Garcia’s illegal activities, but if he’d been coerced to help the other men out of fear, she could understand. Just look at the lengths she had gone to in the past couple of days for her own son.

Little Ana Sofia was a tiny dark-haired girl with waist-length black braids and the biggest brown eyes Willow had ever seen. She clung to her mother’s skirt as Valeria explained that they were taking a trip for a few days.

The child’s questioning look only compounded the turmoil raging inside Willow.

How could she ever have married a man who would threaten a family like Leo had?

Had she been that desperate for a father for her baby?

No
...she’d been desperate to forget Brett. She’d seen the tabloids of the women throwing themselves at him and had needed comfort. And Leo had stroked her ego—at first.

All part of his ruse to cover up the fact that he was a criminal.

“This is Miss Willow,” Valeria said. “She and Mr. Brett are going to let us stay on their ranch.”

Not
her
ranch. Brett’s and his brothers’. But Willow didn’t comment. At one time she’d fantasized about marrying Brett and the two of them carving out a home on a piece of the McCullen land.

But that dream had died years ago.

“Hi, Ana, you have beautiful hair.” Willow stroked one of her braids. “And beautiful big eyes.”

“They’re like my daddy’s.” Ana’s lower lip quivered. “But I don’t get to see him anymore.”

Valeria looked stricken, but Willow patted the little girl’s back. “Well, maybe one day soon, you will. And you can tell him all about the horses and cows you see on Mr. Brett’s ranch. Would you like that?”

“I like horses,” the little girl said.

Valeria hugged Willow. “Thank you, Miss Willow.”

Willow’s throat closed. “No, Valeria, thank you.”

Because of Valeria’s courage, they might have a lead on how to find the money Willow needed.

* * *

W
ILLOW
HELPED
V
ALERIA
and her daughter settle into a cabin near the one where Brett and Willow were staying. The sound of an engine made him step outside the cabin, and he cursed.

Maddox in his police SUV. What was he doing here?

Wind battered the trees and sent a few twigs and limbs down, a light rain adding to the cold dreariness as evening set in.

Brett jammed his hands in his pockets and waited, contemplating an explanation as Maddox parked and strode up to the porch. Rain dripped from his cowboy hat and jacket as he ducked under the roof.

“What’s going on, Brett?”

Brett tensed at his brother’s gruff tone. Maddox had a way of saying things that reeked of disapproval even without using specific words.

“I decided to stay in that cabin over there. And a friend of mine needed a place, so she’s staying here.”

Maddox arched a brow. “A woman? She’s not staying with
you
?”

Brett swallowed back a biting retort. He’d be damned if he’d admit that Willow was staying with him. “No, she just needs a safe place for her and her little girl for a few days.”

Maddox crossed his arms. “Brett, is this woman one of your conquests?” He lowered his voice. “Is the kid
yours
?”

Anger slashed through Brett. “You
would
think the worst of me, wouldn’t you?” He squared his shoulders, making him eye to eye with Maddox. “I wouldn’t do that to a woman. And if the child
was
mine, I’d take responsibility.”

Animosity bubbled between them, born of years apart—and the years they’d fought as kids.

“I’m sorry,” Maddox said quietly. “I guess I jumped to conclusions.”

Brett released a tense breath. Maddox didn’t apologize often.

“She’s in trouble,” Brett said in a low voice. “Can’t you just trust me for once, Maddox, and let her stay here without asking questions?”

Maddox studied him for another full minute, then gave a clipped nod. “Okay, little brother. Do you want me to have my deputy or one of the ranch hands drive by and check on them tonight?”

Brett shrugged. “Maybe one of the ranch hands. I don’t think the deputy needs to come.” Sweat beaded on his brow. What if the deputy drove around and found Leo’s grave?

“Okay, I’ll tell Ron to swing by.”

“Thanks, Maddox.”

Maddox made a clicking sound with his teeth. “I guess it’s time we both start trusting each other, right?”

“Right.” Brett’s gut knotted with guilt as Maddox strode back to his SUV. Maddox would kick his butt when he learned what Brett had done.

It would also destroy any chance of a reconciliation between him and his brother.

* * *

W
ILLOW
BATTLED
TEARS
as she listened to Brett’s conversation with Maddox. Brett wouldn’t have abandoned a child.

She should tell him about Sam.

After all, he was putting his relationship with his brother on the line for her. She owed him the truth. But he cut her off before she could speak.

“I’m going to see that rancher tonight. Stay here with Valeria.”

Willow glanced down at her phone, willing it to ring. But the picture of little Sam that the kidnapper had sent stared back.

She wrapped her coat around her. “No, I’m going with you. I want to see his reaction to the picture of my son.”

* * *

S
AM
PUSHED
ASIDE
the grilled cheese the man set in front of him. “I want my mommy.”

“Well, your mommy’s not here, kid. Now eat the sandwich.”

Sam picked at the burnt edge, then set the plate on the floor “It’s black. And it gots the crust on it and Mommy cuts the crust off.”

The man’s pudgy face puffed up like a big fat pig’s. Then he picked up the sandwich and shoved it toward Sam’s mouth.

Sam’s stomach growled, but he hated the man, and he wasn’t going to eat the nasty thing so he turned his head away.

The mean man probably put roaches in the sandwiches or spiders or maybe he even spit tobacco in it. He’d seen him spitting that brown stuff in that can.

“Fine, you little brat. Starve.” He hurled the sandwich at the wall. It hit, then fell to the floor, a mangled mess.

Sam fought tears. “When are you gonna take me back?”

The man glared at him, then slammed the door. Sam heard the key turning and threw himself at the door, beating on it. “I wanna go home! Let me go!”

He beat and beat until his fists hurt, and snot bubbled in his nose.

Don’t be a baby
, he told himself.
Cowboys don’t cry
.

He wiped his nose on his sleeve and looked around the dingy room. He needed to find a way out, but those windows were nailed shut.

He hunted for something sharp to use to stab the man with if he came back. A knife or a nail or a pair of scissors. But he couldn’t find anything but a broken plastic comb.

BOOK: McCullen's Secret Son (The Heroes Of Horseshoe Creek Book 2)
4.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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