Attracted to Fire (11 page)

“Okay. Catch me as soon as you walk through the door.” He moistened his lips. “You look pretty good to be spending the evening with a couple of cowboys.”

“Thanks.” If she didn't know how he felt about women agents, she'd think he had a jealous streak.

Outside, the foul weather had passed, leaving puddles and mud in its wake. She hated gray, and the sky had mellowed to blue . . . much like Ash's eyes.

Meghan looked forward to the evening, and a bit of homesickness kicked in. Once this assignment was completed, she'd make the trek home to Abilene. Maybe this time she'd do some good with her sister. And Mom deserved to know why she'd broken her engagement.

She walked the familiar path to the stables, her thoughts darting about like fireflies on a clear night. Although she wanted the people apprehended who had threatened Lindsay and killed the agent in DC, she didn't want the Leonards to be part of a treacherous plan. But those who worked against the law were successful because they were highly intelligent and the least-likely suspects.

After all, Judas was a disciple.

She'd toyed with the idea that Chip could have encountered one of the bad guys while working in Dallas. He could have been offered a tremendous amount of money to pull off an operation, like worming his way into Scottard Burnette's confidence and finding ways to secure information about those who were guests at the ranch. But why target Lindsay? She was a drug addict and an embarrassment to her family—and the administration. If Chip was involved with a sinister operation, perhaps his issues and the drug dealers were two separate problems. Wouldn't that be a mess?

Another aspect could be someone trying to get rid of Lindsay to eliminate the dark stain in the VP's life. Meghan had considered so many scenarios that this one rang with as much validity as the others.

Meghan walked around the side of the stables to the door of the Leonards' home. Chesney greeted her on the stoop, and she bent to pat his head. Chip must have heard her one-sided conversation with the dog, because he opened the door.

“Hey, buddy. Are you turning traitor? I thought Dad and I were your best friends. Hmm. I can't say I blame you.”

How interesting that Chip would begin their evening together with what she wanted to know about him. Outfitted in a white shirt and jeans, he looked very much like a contemporary cowboy. She patted the dog's head again. “He is irresistible.”

“I think I just got my feelings hurt.” He gave her a once-over. “You clean up like a girl who needs a night out on the town.”

She laughed. “What I need is a home-cooked meal that doesn't keep me up all night.”

“Come on in.” Ethan's voice in the background reminded her of an uncle in Abilene. “I can take care of what ails you.”

She hoped so on more than one front. The idea of either of these two men being arrested for crimes against the US government didn't sit well. She had to keep that in the forefront of her mind.

Entering the Leonards' home brought back memories of family dinners, comfy furniture, and the smells of good cooking.

Ethan stirred a pot on the stove. “Your mama raised you right.”

“How's that?” The enticing aroma of fried chicken made her stomach growl.

“You're a little early, which means I can put you to work. Got a glass of iced tea with your name on it.” Ethan wore a white apron with the words
I rope 'em and cook 'em
in red letters across the front. “Sweet or unsweet?”

“Unsweet. Got to watch my figure.”

“I know
I
am.” Chip poured a glassful and handed it to her. “Strike that last line. I've been around the ranch too long.”

“Son, you got to let these agents turn you loose.” Ethan laughed. “You're beginning to sound like a redneck.”

Hadn't she and Ash discussed the same thing? The Dancin' Dust was beautiful, but the desolation got to all of them after a while. She thanked Chip for the iced tea and took a long drink. “What can I do?”

Ethan pointed to the sink. “Slice those tomatoes and cucumbers. Chip, I need those potatoes mashed, but don't put in the garlic. You never add enough—like you're afraid of it.”

“All right, but stay clear of my pecan pie. Yours is always runny.”

“Mine's not runny. Yours is just baked into a brick.” Ethan picked up a potato masher.

“Watch it, or I'll dump red pepper into your precious gravy.”

For the next thirty minutes, she observed Ethan and Chip in their own private world. They worked well together, and it didn't appear to be an act for her benefit. Her suspicions about them faded.

She'd seen their home during a walk-through on the first day at the Dancin' Dust, but it was the two men's personalities that gave the rustic furnishings a homey appeal. The deer head mounted on the living room wall wasn't her style, but it fit two ranchers in West Texas. The brown sofa looked like it had seen a lot of use.

Meghan hadn't tasted food this good for a long time, and she went back for seconds on the chicken.

“How about another slice of pecan pie?” Ethan reached for her plate.

“Please, no.” Meghan waved him away. “Can't eat another bite.”

“Are you sure? Tomorrow you're back to Pepper's cookin'. Trust me on this. She's just getting warmed up. The more she cooks, the hotter the food. Before the summer ends, we'll be calling the volunteer fire department for all of you.”

Meghan groaned. “Don't remind me. I feel indigestion thinking about it. But I'd be on Ash's gold-star list if I could bring him back a plate of this delicious dinner.”

“Will do, Meggie. Poor guy probably doesn't have a clue about good country food.” Ethan chuckled. “Since I gave him permission to take what he wants from my garden, I see him picking tomatoes, bell peppers, and cucumbers—washes them at the hose and eats them outside.”

Something new about Ash. She missed those outings while working her shift with Lindsay.

Ethan cleared their plates from the round, wooden table. “I hope you plan to stay and visit awhile tonight. We haven't had a guest in a long time.”

“I do. Haven't been home in months, and this is pretty close.”

“What's your daddy do?”

“He was killed when I was still in high school.”

Ethan grimaced and loaded the dishwasher. “Sorry to hear that.”

Does the death of a loved one ever stop hurting?
“It's okay, really. The tragedy caused me to think about how to keep innocent people safe.” Telling them about herself helped build the trust she needed them to have in her. “Dad tried to convince a drunk not to drive, and the man shot him.”

“Is that why you chose the Secret Service?” Chip's eyes were clear—not a muscle twitched.

“Yes. I looked into various law-enforcement possibilities. But the Secret Service seemed like my calling.” She reached for the aluminum foil and wrapped a piece around the leftover chicken.

Ethan took the plate from her and set it in the fridge. “Brothers or sisters?”

“A sister. She and my mom live in Abilene.”

“Are you all close?”

Meghan pondered her answer. “I am with my mother.”

Chip's slight smile told her he understood. “Let's talk about something a little more pleasant. Where did you go to college?”

“A&M.”

Chip chuckled. “I should have known. What about a boyfriend?”

“Don't have time. Most guys feel threatened by a gun-carrying woman.”

“Yeah, that might stop me, too.”

“But not his old man. I'd like a woman who's handy with a rifle and a sidearm.”

Meghan smiled into Ethan's weathered face, then looked back to Chip. “Curiosity is driving me crazy. Why did you leave the big city with all the people, shopping, restaurants, technology—and Starbucks—for ranch life?”

He studied her as though evaluating her motives. “Honestly, I missed the quiet, open air and the satisfaction of living close to the earth. Which was exactly why I left in the first place. At seventeen and heading off to college, I thought the penthouse apartment and boardroom meetings were my destiny. And I lived that life for a few years. Got into the politics of corporate business and hated it. Got my heart broken by a woman who was headed up the ladder of success. Bought more things than I'd ever use, and none of it made me happy. I longed for the feel of a horse lunging beneath me. Wondered which mares foaled in the spring. Even missed the muscle aches after a hard day's work. Nothing beats the taste of homegrown vegetables and beef that hasn't been injected with growth hormones and chemicals.” Sincerity bannered across his eyes.

“Are you ever bored?”

“Sometimes. But I like to read and play the guitar.”

“And he's going to church with me.” Ethan poured himself another glass of iced tea. “God's gonna get his attention for sure. Ya know, Meggie, God gave me and my sweet wife Chip when I was forty years old. We'd given up on having a family. What a surprise. While other men my age were dealing with teenagers, I was changing diapers. He's a good boy. Always has been.”

“Don't you forget it either.” Chip grinned. “Someday I'll make sure you have a half-dozen grandkids to spoil.”

Nothing cast a doubt about either man's credibility. But she had plenty of questions.

Chip took a final swipe at cleaning off the table. “How about a concert? Nothing like good old country music to soothe a special agent's nerves.”

“Who said I was nervous?”

“Didn't have to. Women just get nervous being around me. Their little hearts pound, and they lose control of everything their mama taught them.”

Meghan shook her head at Ethan and grabbed the bowl of mashed potatoes. “Is he always like this?”

“Yep. Been that way since the day he was born. Could talk his mama into anything.”

Chip disappeared and returned with a guitar. He swung a hip onto a stool and tuned the instrument. Soon the lyrics of a popular song woven with soft guitar music filled the room. Not bad. For a little while, she forgot about who might want Lindsay dead.

Chapter 15

Ash checked his watch at 2200. Meghan must be having a good time . . . or the Leonards weren't offering any information. The reason she hadn't returned bothered him more than her not finding incriminating information against the father and son—specifically Chip.

Reality crept in like an unbidden stranger. He was losing his heart to Meghan Connors.
Lord, what are You doing to me? I'm a career man. I can't allow a woman to steal my organized life? I'm A2Z, not A4Z—Ash 4 Meghan Zinders.
He'd become downright sappy, and his last thought proved it.

He stiffened and homed in on the truth. Too much baggage plagued his life to ever be right for Meghan. Forget it. Keep moving.

Ash stood in front of the house, eyes open and alert to the darkness. Anyone could jump the fence and find Lindsay. His concerns were twofold: her stalker had a deadly inclination and Ash despised reporters as much as he detested snakes.

Wade had volunteered to keep watch inside so Ash could speak to Meghan when she returned from the Leonards. What was she doing? He'd heard music. Were they two-stepping and moving to the Cotton-Eyed Joe? Whatever those dances were. He'd been reading about favorite pastimes for Texans and any other local flavor that would help him understand the Leonards.

Strange how the night came alive with the sounds of nature. Cicadas sang louder than DC traffic. Since arriving at the ranch and taking on the afternoon and evening shift, he'd used the darkness to pray for Lindsay, each of his agents by name, the Shield and Alexa, reconciliation with his past, his aging parents . . . The list went on.

When he spotted Meghan rounding the stables, his heart sped, and he shoved away his rising interest. Granted, praying for someone made the person more of a concern. But concern was not what he was feeling. The way his pulse raced whenever she was near couldn't come from God because He wouldn't play such a cruel joke. The infamous A2Z falling for a female agent. For certain, if his heart ever took the dive, the woman would have to be someone who challenged his wit while stealing his breath.

Stop it, Ash. Your mind focuses on Meghan at every opportunity.
She challenged his wit and stole his breath. That's why he was in serious trouble.

Meghan strolled toward the porch, and he waved. She carried something—perhaps a plate. Even in the shadows, her red-gold hair flowing around her shoulders gave him chills. The idea of Chip and Ethan having her to themselves tonight did make him jealous.

Meghan held out a foil-covered plate. “This is for you. I suggest you eat it now before Pepper finds out. I know you're on duty, so I'll get a knife and fork. Want a Diet Coke?”

Heaven had come to West Texas. “Wonderful on all counts.” He brushed his fingers across her hand, and he reacted as though he'd been burned.
Great. Hot and cold at the same time.
He'd never felt like this before. Never thought a woman could make him feel like a hero and mush at the same time. Ash gritted his teeth. The Secret Service was no place for a woman. Too distracting.

“Be right back.”

His emotions registered in the frazzled zone.

She returned with the utensils and drink. “How was your evening?”

“I should be asking you that.” The aroma of the food made his mouth water. Good. Filling his belly would get his attention off the woman in front of him.

She leaned against the porch post. “Relaxing. Ethan is a wonderful cook. Fried chicken done to perfection with all the trimmings.” She pointed. “Go ahead. You'll see.”

He peeled back the foil. The fried chicken called his name.

“The pecan pie is wonderful too. Ethan served it warm with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. I think Pepper has French vanilla in the fridge.”