Protecting Tricia (15 page)

“I never made it out to check on the cattle, so if you don’t
mind we’ll do that before we go back to the house. It won’t take long.”

* * * *

That evening Clint leaned against the porch post and watched
Jack’s truck bounce down the driveway, leaving a trail of dust in its wake.

Hinges creaked as the front door opened, and he glanced over
his shoulder. Tricia strolled outside to stand beside him. Her hair, wet from
the shower and neatly combed, hung down her back. Her face was shiny clean,
pink—whether from the scrubbing or from too much sun, he didn’t know. Most
likely a combination of the two.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“Jack. He brought a delivery.”

Clint tilted his head, and Tricia looked in the direction he
indicated. She stared at the rocking chair for a long moment before shifting
her gaze back to Clint, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You told me I needed one.” He gestured toward the chair
with his hand. “Go ahead. Try it out.”

She walked over and sat down. Setting the rocker in motion,
she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. The ends of her mouth lifted a
fraction of a degree to form a soft smile. She looked peaceful and happy. Which
was, of course, exactly what he’d hoped for. If he could ease her into a sense
of comfort, then maybe he’d be able to slip underneath those defenses she had
so firmly set in place.

Lifting her head, she opened her eyes and met his gaze. “I
know what you’re doing.”

“Really? What’s that?”

“You’re trying to soften me up.”

“I’m just trying to make you smile. But if I were trying to
soften
you up
, would it be working?”

“No.”

Okay, so it would take a little more time and effort.

She shifted in the chair. “You know, most men would give
women flowers and candy, not strawberries and suckers and rocking chairs.”

“Maybe I’ll give those a try next.” He winked at her and
smiled. “You want a drink?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t think plying me with alcohol
is going to help either.”

He laughed. “I’ll make it tea.”

He went inside and returned minutes later with two glasses
of tea. After handing one to Tricia, he strolled to the porch swing and took a
seat. Staring into the distance, he watched the sun sink in the sky, casting a
warm orange glow over the landscape.

“Why did you get divorced?”

He jerked his head around to look at Tricia, stunned at the
question. He hadn’t a clue what had prompted her to ask that, and it wasn’t an
issue he cared to discuss. But he would. Just as he’d discussed Kelly. After
all, he could hardly expect Tricia to open up to him, if he wasn’t willing to
do the same with her.

“I married the wrong woman.”

That’s evasive. Try again.

“The relationship was already on shaky ground when we got
married, but she was pregnant. I thought maybe we could make it work. I was
wrong. She was miserable, which resulted in me being miserable. Constant
tension and disagreements…” He shrugged as the words trailed off.

Tricia stared at him as if waiting for him to continue.

“Go ahead,” he prompted. “Ask what you really want to know.”
And he knew exactly what that was.

“Did you cheat on her?”

“No.”

“Well, then she must have been something special.”

“Oh, she’s something all right.” Sarcasm edged his voice.

His ex was an angry, bitter woman who seemed to take great
satisfaction in making his life difficult. Since she was also the mother of his
child, he gritted his teeth and tried to pacify her as much as possible.

“I mean it.” Tricia crossed her arms over her chest. “When
you were dating me, you didn’t feel the need to be faithful. You were also very
careful about using protection. And during our last conversation, you made a
point of informing me, in no uncertain terms, that marriage and children were
not in your future. Obviously, what you intended to say—”

“I lied.” He was careful to keep his voice calm.

“Apparently.” She stood and reached for the door.

“Tricia.”

Pausing, she glanced over at him.

“Don’t you want to know why I lied?” he asked.

She stared at him without responding for so long hope surged
inside him.

“No,” she finally said. Then she pushed the door open and
stepped inside.

The hope that had sprouted just seconds before quickly
withered but didn’t die completely. If she was willing to…discuss, and that was
using the term loosely, their last conversation, then maybe she’d eventually be
willing to listen to the reasons behind it.

* * * *

Clint hung up the phone and silently cursed a blue streak. He’d
run out of time. According to Neil, Matt had packed up and left town. Of
course, the minute Tricia heard the news she’d insist on leaving for Lexington.

He’d spent the last three days trying to nudge her into a
state of complacency, waiting patiently until she was ready to talk about the
past. Obviously that plan had been flawed because he’d made little progress.

She’d relaxed some, been pleasant and polite, but always a
part of her remained wary and on guard. Each time he’d attempted to coax her
into a discussion, she’d slammed those defenses right back in place. Maybe he
should have tried a more aggressive approach.

Leaning one hand on the back of the couch, he rubbed his
stomach with the other. The lunch he’d just eaten, the one he’d complimented
Tricia on, now set like lead in the pit of his stomach.

“Was that Neil?”

At the sound of Tricia’s voice, he turned. She stood in the
kitchen doorway wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

“Yeah.”

“What’d he say?”

He needed another day—or even just a few more hours.

There was a way he could buy himself some more time.

In his mind, he replayed the conversation with Neil. It had
been a short one since Neil had been on his lunch break and was already late
getting back to work. Clint focused on what he’d said, the words Tricia might
have heard. From his words, would she know the gist of the conversation? He
doubted it.

Don’t do it. It’s underhanded and deceitful.
He
squashed the irritating voice in his head, opened his mouth, and prepared to
lie.

Clint clamped his mouth shut before the lies could escape.
He stuck his hands in his pockets and shifted uncomfortably under Tricia’s
gaze. After a brief, but vicious, battle with his conscience, he abandoned his
plan of trickery. Tricia had experienced enough lies and deceit.

She wrinkled her brow, obviously confused by his lack of
response. “Well?”

Dread filled his heart, weighing it down, but he forced the
words out. “He said Matt left town.”

Seconds ticked by, silence filling the room. Clint studied
her face, surprised to note that her expression wasn’t one of pure joy as he
had imagined it would be. In fact, her face was totally void of emotion.

“That’s great news.” The corners of her mouth tugged up, but
the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Now I can go back to Lexington. I can
move on with my life, and you can get yours back.”

“I think you should wait a few days, just to be sure it’s
safe.”

“I’m sure Neil wouldn’t have told you the news unless he had
confirmed it.”

Of course he wouldn’t have. Clint knew that as well as
Tricia did.

He groped for a logical argument that would convince her to
stay another day and came up with nothing. He could try the truth, but somehow
he doubted
because I want you to stay
would sway her.

“Neil didn’t have time to give me any details. I’d feel a
lot better if you waited until I talk to him again and get some more
information.”

“Like I said…” Her words halted when the phone rang.

Even though he felt badly for it, Clint prayed it was Neil
calling back to tell them that he had been mistaken, and it wasn’t yet safe for
Tricia to return to Lexington.

Clint grabbed the receiver. “Yeah?”

“Hey, it’s David. I’m out on highway twelve, a few miles
from the Bryant’s place. You’ve got fence down and cattle on the road.”

Just what he needed. Shoving a hand through his hair, he
cursed under his breath.

Unfortunately, this problem took precedence over his
conversation with Tricia. It was not only illegal for livestock to be roaming
the road but dangerous as well. In the event an unsuspecting car collided with
one of his cows, Clint would be held responsible for damages. Not to mention
the fact that any loss of cattle would put a dent in his income.

He blew out a heavy breath of air. “I’m on my way.”

After hanging up the phone, he offered Tricia a quick
explanation. “I’ve got to go take care of this. But don’t leave until I get
back.”

“There’s no reason for me to wait.”

“Just a few hours, that’s all I’m asking for.”

She sighed and shook her head. “Clint…”

Once she leaves, I’ll never see her again.

“Please, Tricia.” Clint mentally winced at the desperation
in his voice. But damn it, he’d plead if necessary.

Their gazes locked for several moments, and then Tricia
finally said, “All right.”

Relief washed over him at her agreement.

“You’ve done a lot for me, and I owe you. So I’ll give you
this one thing. But I am leaving today. You’re not going to change my mind.”

“I understand.” Maybe he wouldn’t change her mind, but at
least he’d get a chance to try, along with an opportunity to make one final
attempt to discuss the past. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

* * * *

Tricia grabbed several articles of clothing from the closet
and tossed them on the bed next to the open suitcase. She pulled a shirt off
its hanger and folded it neatly.

As she packed, she reminded herself how happy she should be.
At last, she could shut the door on the past and move forward. It was cause for
celebration. She should be ecstatic. A part of her was, but…

She rubbed a hand over her chest and cursed her foolish,
aching heart. As much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, somehow Clint
had managed to sneak past all her defenses.

How had he done it? She’d tried to be careful and cautious.

Fifteen minutes and a great deal of thought later, she
reached the conclusion that Clint’s conquest had been the result of providing
her with things that had been missing from her life for years. Things she’d
been hungry for. Encouragement, affection, kindness, tenderness. And while she
had been busy gobbling them up, she’d dropped her guard.

Still, she knew as easily as he could play the part of hero,
he could play the part of jerk. He had proven years ago that he couldn’t be
trusted with her heart. People’s basic nature didn’t change. Matt had taught
her that much.

She had heard all the stories about Matt—he was an aggressive
bully who’d been known to throw a punch for the most insignificant reason.
However, she’d never actually witnessed it. Probably because they hadn’t run in
the same circles. His crowd had been much too rough for her. And he’d seemed so
different to her. When she’d asked him about those stories, he’d explained them
in such a way that he’d seemed justified in defending himself.

Then his true nature had surfaced, and she’d known just how
accurate the reports had been.

She shook her head and shoved the thoughts away. Matt was
gone, a part of her past.

And Clint…well, she refused to allow him to be a part of her
future. In addition to the fact that she couldn’t trust him, there was the
little matter of his
controlling
actions—practically kidnapping her,
keeping her car keys from her, making decisions for her—it was proof that he
shared an alliance with Matt.

There’s a difference. Clint was trying to help you, not
hurt you.

“There’s no difference,” she muttered. She removed a stack
of clothing from a dresser drawer and shut it with a bit more force than
necessary.

The bottom line was Clint had found it perfectly acceptable
to force her to— A loud noise, like the sound of glass breaking, came from the
direction of the living room, bringing her thoughts to a screeching halt. Tricia
froze. Her heart skipped a beat and then pounded wildly against her chest.

Heavy footsteps traveled down the hallway toward the
bedroom. A chill shot down her spine.
Do something!

Since the phone was in the living room, calling for help
wasn’t an option.

She glanced around the room, searching for a hiding place.
Her choices were limited. Under the bed, in the closet. Both places were
obvious. Then her gaze landed on the window.

With the footsteps drawing nearer by the second, she rushed
to window. But it refused to open. No matter how hard she yanked on it, it
remained firmly sealed.

Panic surged through her, stealing her ability to form a
coherent thought. Taking a shaky breath, she ordered her brain to function. She
could break the glass…

Suddenly, she realized the footsteps had stopped. Not
wanting to look, but knowing she had to, she turned.

Matt stood in the doorway. One hand was clenched into a fist
at his side. In his other hand he gripped a pistol. When she raised her gaze to
his, those gray eyes staring back at her were filled with hatred.

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Her
mouth was as dry as a bone, and her vocal cords refused to work. She licked her
lips, swallowed hard, and tried again.

“Clint will be back any minute.” She’d hoped to sound calm
and confident. Instead she sounded...well, simply terrified.

“Then I guess we’d better leave right away.” Matt stalked
toward her, and she instinctively backed up. He smiled at her retreat. “You
look scared, Tricia. Are you scared?”

She shook her head in denial. Fear would only feed his sick
appetite.

“No?” The look on his face made it obvious he didn’t believe
her lie. He knew she was petrified, and he found it amusing. “You should be.”

* * * *

Clint looked up at the sound of a vehicle pulling to a stop.
He leaned on the shovel handle, pushed his hat back, and wiped the sweat from
his brow with his forearm.

“Hey, Jack,” he yelled.

“Hey.”

Jack walked over to the back of Clint’s truck and helped
David haul out the fence posts. They carried the posts to the edge of the
property and tossed them on the ground.

“It looks like I arrived just in time,” Jack said.

“Time for what?” Clint asked. “Most of the work’s already
done.”

“That’s when he always shows up,” David muttered.

Jack grinned, seemingly unoffended by the remark. “I’ve got
it down to an art form.”

“Since you’ve got things under control, I should get back to
work,” David said.

“Thanks for your help,” Clint called as David headed back to
his patrol car.

Clint returned to the job of digging around the stump of the
wooden post.

Jack squatted down, picked up the broken post from the
ground, and examined it. “Rotted, eh?”

“Yep. That tends to happen after twenty years.”

All the fence posts needed to be replaced. Hopefully next
year he’d have the funds to do that. Until then, he kept a close eye on them
and made repairs as needed. Usually, however, he identified the ones needing
replacement before they actually fell.

Jack stood and wiped his hands off on his jeans. “I passed
Tricia on my way here.”

Clint’s actions stilled at Jack’s words.

“Yeah?” He kept his tone casual. “Which way was she headed?”

“West. Out of town.”

Toward Lexington. So much for her promise to wait for him.
His heart, along with his hopes, sank.

Hoping to give the appearance that everything was normal,
Clint forced himself to return to the task at hand.

“So, is she leaving?” Jack asked.

“Appears that way.”

“Coming back?”

“I doubt it,” Clint ground out.

“What’s the deal with you guys anyway? I thought you were
involved, but she denied it. Then today she was with another guy.”

Clint jerked his head up. “What guy?”

“Some guy was in the car with her.”

Fear grabbed hold of Clint and squeezed so tightly he could
barely breathe. “What did he look like?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t exactly checking him out.”

“What did he look like?” Clint asked again, emphasizing each
word.

Jack shrugged. “Big guy, shaggy black hair.”

“Oh, shit.”

* * * *

Tricia peeked at Matt out of the corner of her eye. He
stared out the front windshield, his jaw clenched, his expression hard and
cold. The fingers of his right hand were wrapped around the gun lying on his
thigh. Sunlight reflected off the metal barrel, somehow making it seem even
more menacing. Swallowing hard, she returned her gaze to the road, her hands
tightening on the steering wheel.

“Slow down,” Matt ordered.

A quick glance at the odometer confirmed that her speed had
shot up over the limit. She eased up on the gas. Suspecting the sudden increase
in speed had been a direct result of the tension in her body, she forced
herself to relax her muscles.

“That’s better. Follow all the rules of the road like the
law-abiding citizen you are so we don’t attract any attention.”

The scorn in his voice clearly indicated his view of
law-abiding
citizens. The reference to the law, however, brought to mind the plan she’d
once considered of trying to make a deal with him.

“If you let me go, I promise not to tell anyone about what
happened in Florida.”

“What are you talking about?”

She chose her words carefully, knowing any insinuation that
he was actually guilty would be sure to enrage him. “The occurrence at the
convenience store.”

“I know you won’t tell anyone.” His tone left no doubt that
if she did there would be severe consequences. “And I’ll never let you go. You
belong to me, Tricia. Once you accept that fact, your life will be much
easier.”

She glanced over at him, her eyes meeting his, and she knew
in his deranged mind he honestly believed that. As long as he was a free man,
she’d never escape him. He’d always track her down and drag her back. And feel
completely justified in doing so.

Tearing her gaze away, she looked back at the road. “How did
you find me?” she asked.

“You knew I would.”

“How?” she asked again.

“Does it matter?”

Not really, but she wanted to know just the same. “I’m
curious. I thought I’d done a good job of disappearing.”

Matt snorted. “You’ll never be able to outsmart me. You
should know that by now.”

“How did you figure it out?”

“After talking to dozens of people in Lexington, I finally
found someone who gave me a clue. Every time I brought up your name, the
conversation always ended up leading to Clint. Ten years after
the incident
people are still talking about it. Then someone recalled a dim memory of
Jenny’s mom telling them Clint had inherited a ranch somewhere in Oklahoma. Of
course, they couldn’t remember where it was, but—”

“What made you think if you found Clint, you’d find me?”
Realizing she’d interrupted him, a major blunder, she bit her bottom lip in
regret. When he didn’t retaliate, she forged ahead. “Clint and I didn’t exactly
end our relationship as friends.”

“It just seemed like something you might be stupid enough to
do. Go running back to him, tell him a pack of lies to make you look like the
poor, innocent victim, use your feminine charms to convince him to help you. By
the way, I witnessed that disgusting display on the porch Sunday night.”

She knew immediately what he referred to. The night Clint
and she had made love. She had been the aggressor, straddling Clint and kissing
him on the porch.

Matt had seen it? Gasping, she jerked her head in his
direction. His cold, mean eyes froze her blood.

“That type of sleazy behavior is not acceptable, and I plan
to make damn sure you never forget that.” He shifted the gun and stroked it
with his thumb.

Even though Matt hadn’t raised his voice, the barely
controlled anger was obvious. His words were a promise of punishment. His
actions an attempt to intimidate.