Read Rangers: Silver-Star Seductions: A Two-Book Box Set Online
Authors: Ciana Stone
Rangers: Silver-Star Seductions: A Two-Book Box Set
Rangers:
Silver Star Seduction
A Two Book Set by
Ciana Stone
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, businesses, places, events, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 Ciana Stone
Cover by Syneca Featherstone
All Rights Reserved
Table of Contents
*This book originally appeared in the box set Men of Calder County
Zebediah Childress would rather eat a bullet than go back to Calder County. He’d escaped it when he was eighteen and there was nothing there he wanted any part of.
Then he knocked on the door of the Hale house and Willa Hale opened it. He was immediately attracted. He'd have to be of a whole other sexual orientation not to find her sexy as homemade sin. So maybe there'd be some perks to being in Calder County for a while.
It wasn't like he was going to fall in love, after all. Zeb wasn't the marrying kind. He was first and foremost a Texas Ranger, a lawman. Everything else came second. Besides, he wasn't looking for love. Or a woman who wasn't quite normal. He didn't object to getting her between the sheets, but that was as far as it'd ever go.
At least that's what he thought. Life sometimes presents you with what you didn’t know you wanted most of all.
The test would be staying alive to claim it.
“Get off my land.”
She knew it wasn’t the words or the tone with which they were spoken that had the tall, burly man taking a step back. The shotgun carried a lot more threat than a five foot three, one hundred and twenty-five pound woman in worn jeans and a tank top.
“You fucking bitch. I know you killed him.” His tone was antagonistic even if he did back on down the steps that lead to the front porch.
“He fell. Nothing I could do.” Willa took another step, keeping the shotgun trained on him and willing her legs not to shake.
“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Carl Ellis stopped his retreat at the bottom of the steps.
She shrugged. “Investigation ruled it an accident. Get over it and get the hell off my land.”
“Or what? You’ll push me into a pit of rattlers?”
She heard the low growl that came from the corner of the house and it boosted her courage. Lobo was there, keeping watch. Another shrug was accompanied by what she hoped was an evil smile. “Accidents happen.”
“Yeah, they do. No telling what could happen to a woman all alone out here. ‘Specially one who shoots off her mouth to the law.”
Fear receded a bit as anger bloomed. She was tired of talking. Tired of the threats and sick and tired of living in fear. She pumped a load into the chamber of the gun. “Get the hell off my land.”
“This ain’t over, bitch,” Carl snarled. “Not by a fucking long shot.”
“Willa?”
She heard his voice a split second before he rounded the corner of the house. Ronnie Camp had worked for her family since before she was born and a nicer man had never walked the earth. In his late sixties, he was rangy and lean but could still work circles around men half his age.
Ronnie and his wife, Polly, lived in the small foreman’s house on the ranch. Polly cooked for the hands, what few were left and Ronnie was the ranch foreman. He was also the closest thing to family Willa had left.
He took one look at Carl Ellis and his pace picked up to a sharp march. “What you doing here, Carl? Lessen my memory fails me, Miss Hale told you not to be coming back here.”
Willa noticed the shotgun in Ronnie’s hand and knew Carl had too when he started backing away. “This ain’t over Camp. She killed my brother and she’s gonna pay.”
“She didn’t kill nobody. Law said so. Clay tripped and fell. Wasn’t nothing she could do.”
Carl’s response was to spit on the ground. He turned on his heel and stomped to his truck. Ronnie sidled over to the front porch, keeping his eye on Carl as he got into his truck, spinning gravel and dirt in his wake as he left. Ronnie then turned to face Willa.
“You okay, Willa?”
“Yeah. I called the law before I came out.”
Ronnie chuckled. “Then we might as well put on a pot of coffee. They ain’t gonna roll up in here for at least half an hour.”
Willa smiled at him. “You don’t have to stay up. Go on back home. Polly will be worried. Carl isn’t gonna show back up tonight and if the law needs to talk to you, I’ll call.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” She stepped down off the porch and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Ronnie.”
“I always got your back, Willa.”
“I know and I love you for it. Now get home. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow. Got three more horses to train for the Rangers coming in early and we’ve only got two weeks to get’em ready.”
“You mean you only got two weeks. I’m ‘bout as much use as tits on a bull when it comes to that stuff.”
Willa blew a raspberry. “Right. Like I could get anything done around here without you. Now go on. Off with you.”
“See you in the morning.” He gave her a smile and turned away.
Willa watched until he disappeared into the darkness then patted her leg. “Come on, big guy.”
Lobo trotted out from his hiding place in the bush beside the house, his tail wagging. Willa knelt down, put her shotgun on the ground, and wrapped her arms around his thick neck as he licked her face. “Thanks for having my back, buddy.”
He wiggled happily and escalated his enthusiastic licking. Willa ruffled his thick fur then captured his face in her hands and drew back to look into his eyes. He was beautiful. Thick furred and heavy, Lobo was big for a gray wolf. He stood thirty-two inches at the shoulders, was nearly seven feet from the tip of his nose to his tail, and weighed almost a hundred and fifty pounds.
He was one of the biggest loves of her life. Willa had found him as a pup. His mother had been shot and left to rot. Lobo was the only one of three pups to survive. When she’d found him, he was so young he was still blind. She took him home and they’d been inseparable since that day, nearly five years ago.
A fact her ex-husband hated. Thoughts of Clay had her mood turning darker. Lobo whined and she gave him another hug. “It’s okay, big guy. He won’t be bothering us any more tonight. Now, go run. But be careful, you hear?”
A sharp yip preceded him bounding away into the darkness. Willa smiled, gathered up her shotgun, and went into the house. She left the porch light on, just in case the police did show up; and left the shotgun beside the door in case Carl decided to make another appearance. He wasn’t the brightest bulb on the strand but he was stubborn as the day was long.
Sassy, one of her pet black-footed ferrets met her at the door, sitting up on her haunches with what Willa would swear was a question on her face.
“Better safe than sorry.” Willa gestured toward the gun.
Sassy chattered, bobbed her head as if in agreement then scampered off. Willa watched her tear off down the hall and disappear through the door to the laundry room. She smiled at the sight and then headed for the kitchen. With luck, she wouldn’t have any more unwanted visitors tonight. She almost regretted calling the law. She’d gotten rid of Carl and didn’t think he’d be back. At least not tonight. If she hadn’t called the law, she could get a shower and get to bed.
But she had, so she’d wait. Seemed like that’s how she spent her life. Working and waiting.
She just wished she knew what she was waiting for.
Zebediah Childress swerved to keep from hitting the bobcat that darted across the road. His tire slid on the old dirt road, kicking up a cloud of dust and rock. Damn old roads. Nothing ever changed in Calder County. Still the backwater it always was.
He’d never planned on returning to Calder County and wouldn’t be there now if the Rangers hadn’t transferred him from the El Paso Field Headquarters. Zeb had been part of a special task force working in conjunction with the DEA on drugs being smuggled into the country inside of cattle.
Zeb had posed as a down-on-his-luck cowboy who agreed to drive the cattle into the country from Mexico. When the bust went down in Mexico as the cattle were being loaded into the truck, one of the DEA agents had screwed up and identified him as Ranger Childress.
That put the cartel on his scent and since that time at least two attempts had been made on his life. That earned Zeb a few weeks of an internal investigation since he killed both assassins. He was exonerated and the kills labeled justified, but Command decided he was too hot and needed to keep a lower profile for six months to a year.
He was mighty unhappy about it, particularly since his partner in that operation, Kade Lawson had not been exiled to the bowels of Texas along with him. But then, Kade's cover hadn't been blown so Zeb couldn't exactly hold it against him. He'd argued long and hard against the temporary reassignment but in the end had lost. It was Calder County or turn in his badge.
So here he was, back in the county he’d run from at eighteen.
Shit on a stick
. When he’d left Calder in his dust, he’d sworn never to return. Not that it should matter after two decades. Chances were the guys he’d run with and gotten into trouble with as a teenager were either long gone or dead. The way some of them were headed back then, he wouldn’t be surprised to discover the latter was true.
He slowed as he saw the mailbox beside a dirt driveway. A name in chipped paint on the box read “Hale”. As if he wouldn't have known the place without the mailbox. It hadn't changed in twenty years. He could probably find his way here blindfolded.
He made the turn onto the road and let his mind wander back in time. Ethan Hale had been one of his best childhood friends. A big fellow who looked downright scary at times with his thick dark brows and nearly black eyes, but was, in reality, one of the most kind-hearted guys in the world.
Zeb wondered what had happened to Ethan. Was old man Hale still alive? And what about Ethan’s little sister, Willetta? Zeb reached up and rubbed at a sudden headache that throbbed at his right temple. A vision of a cute dark-haired girl on a handmade swing flitted through his mind and he smiled to himself.
The smile didn’t stick around. When he volunteered to take the call that came in about an intruder at the Hale place, he'd been told that this wasn't the first time the law had been there and to watch his step.
He should have pressed for details, but figured how serious could it be? At worst, Ethan had gotten drunk and gone out shooting his gun or chasing cows in his pickup and run through someone's fence..
There were lights on in the house. Zeb parked, turned off the engine, and climbed out of the cruiser. He reached in to grab his hat off the seat, put it on and headed for the front door.
He rapped on the frame of the screen door and waited. A few seconds passed before he heard the sound of footsteps inside, then what sounded like a bunch of cats scampering over hardwood. He grimaced. He’d never been much of a cat person. Hopefully, old man Hale hadn’t croaked and left Mrs. Hale to turn into an old widow with two hundred hissing cats.
The door opened and it definitely wasn’t old lady Hale who stepped out onto the porch. Zeb barely had time for the surprise to register before the knock-out was smiling up at him. “Zebediah Childress. Lord above. It’s been a long time.”
Zeb didn’t even have a chance to respond. The beauty at the door grabbed him by the shirt, yanked him to her and laid a lip lock on him that had his toes curling in his boots. When the kiss ended, she stepped back.
“I always wanted to do that. I had such a crush on you back then when…”
The smile left her face and her eyes moved away from his, but not before he saw the look of sadness that came over her face. “What brings you out here, Zeb?”
“Texas Rangers.” He gestured toward his badge. “Heard you had some trouble, Willetta.”
“Willa,” she corrected. “And it’s nothing. All taken care of.”
“Well, I’m here, so you might as well fill me in.”
She shrugged. “Okay, come on in.”
She turned and stepped inside then stopped when he hesitated. “Something wrong?”
“You have cats?”
“No. Why?”
“Nothing.” He followed her inside and down the hall to the kitchen. Just as they reached the door, something skittered by his leg. Something low to the ground, long, furry and definitely rat-like. He did a quick two-step, suppressing a shudder. He hated rats. Hated them.
The creature made a chattering sound and disappeared around the corner. A split second later, four more came charging through the door, brushing his legs. “Jesus!” He stepped back, reaching for his weapon. “You got rats.”
Willa turned with a laugh then made a clicking sound. The five critters slunk out from around the sideboard by the door, taking positions around her like little sentinels.
“Sassy, Curly, Moe, Larry and Betty,” she recited, gesturing to each of the animals.
“Ferrets?” He asked with relief that he hoped wasn’t evident.
“Yeah. Black footed ferrets. I found Sassy. She had a broken leg and was pregnant. I brought her home and tended her and … well, I ended up with the whole clan.”
“They look a lot like rats.”
“Hardly,” Willa sniffed. “They’re smart and lovable and great snakers. I use them to
̶
never mind. Okay, guys, back to your room. Scoot.”
Zeb was amazed when the animals did exactly as ordered. Willa watched them scamper away then gestured toward the table. “Have a seat. Want some coffee? I just made a fresh pot.”
“Sure.”
“Cream and sugar?”
“Black is fine. So, about the ferrets. Snakers?”
“Yeah, amazingly. And mice, and rabbits. They keep the pests out of the house.”
He looked around the room as she got cups from the cupboard. “So, how’s your family?”
She turned with two steaming cups of coffee in her hands, handed him one and took a seat beside him. “The family’s all gone.”
“Moved away?”
She shook her head and he saw the shadow of sadness that had returned to her face. Crazy as it was, he wanted to reach out and take her hand, offer comfort. Was it because of the kiss? He didn’t think so. Maybe it was the fact that she was just the type of woman that got to him. Long dark hair that clearly suggested Native heritage and enough color to her skin to support the suggestion, but clear blue eyes that he’d bet would darken when she was impassioned.
And not to forget the body. Slim but with curves in all the right places. Yeah, Willa Hale had grown up to be a looker. Wonder why she was still single? She had to be pushing thirty.
She finally answered his question. “Ethan ̶ ” She cleared her throat. “Ethan was killed in Afghanistan last year. He joined up right after you left. Made a career of it.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Willa. That had to have been hard on your family.”
She nodded. “Yeah. Dad especially. He was so proud of Ethan. A bona fide war hero, medals to prove it. Never stopped talking about it. Mom passed a couple of years ago and that took a lot of the life out of Dad. Letters and calls from Ethan was what kept him going, I think.”
“So your father…?”
“Had a heart attack when the military showed up at the door to tell us about Ethan. Never made it to the hospital.”
Zeb’s heart went out to Willa. Losing her brother and her father all at once had to have been devastating. “I’m really sorry, Willa.”
“Yeah, me too.” She straightened in her seat.
“So, your call tonight…”
“Oh, yeah. Carl Ellis. He’d had too much to drink and
̶
you remember Carl don’t you? He always has been a mean drunk.”
Zeb did remember Carl. He remembered all of the Ellis boys. A mean bunch if ever there was one. There were six or seven of them and as far as he could remember, not a one that wouldn’t stick a knife in your back if they saw a profit in it.
“So what made him show up here?”
He could tell the question surprised her in the way her eyes widened. “You… you don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“About Clay.”
“Clay Ellis? I remember him. He was a couple years older than me. Big guy. Hell of a linebacker in high school.”
“Yeah.”
“So what about him?”
She stood and moved across the room to open a cabinet, pull out a nearly full bottle of Jack Daniel’s and two short glasses. “If we’re gonna get into that I’m gonna need something stronger than coffee. You drink, Zeb?”
“Been known to take a sip or two.”
“Come on.” She gestured with the bottle in her hand. “Let’s go out on the back porch. It’s a nice night.”
Zeb followed her down the hall, trying not to focus on the appealing twitch of her firm ass. She didn’t bother to turn on any lights as she entered a room at the end of the hall. As they passed through the room, five furred and inquisitive faces appeared peering at him over the edge of a laundry basket on the clothes dryer, their dark eyes glittering in the low light.
He suppressed a shudder, wondering why in the world Willa would want a bunch of ferrets around.
That question was quickly replaced by a start when he stepped out onto the back porch behind her and a fat bobcat bolted to its feet and caterwauled at him, its ears laid back and fur standing on end.
“Shit! Willa, back up. Now!”
She just looked over her shoulder at him with a smile. “That’s just Bobby. He’s family. Here.” She handed him the bottle of booze and the glasses then turned and knelt down. The bobcat kept its eyes on Zeb, issued a long hiss and then eased over to Willa.
Zeb damn near fainted when it cozied up to her and started purring. She gave its head and ears a scratch then stood. “Now you leave Zeb be, you hear? He’s a friend.”
The cat looked up at her, then at Zeb and with feline grace despite its heft, turned its back and sashayed off the porch to disappear into the darkness.
“What’s up with the zoo?” he asked.
“I like animals. Wanna share the porch swing with me, Ranger Zeb?”
“I’d like that.”
She took a seat and he sat beside her. “So you were going to tell me about Clay.”
“Drink first.”
Zeb handed her a glass, tucked the other one between his knees and poured both almost half full. After recapping the bottle and setting it on the floor, he raised his glass and clicked it against hers. Willa took a big draught, blew out a breath and angled toward him, drawing one leg up under the other.
“Clay. Right. I married him.”
“You … you’re married to Clay?”
“I was. For about four months. Big mistake. Monumental. Guess I was … I don’t know what I was. It was after Ethan and Dad passed. I was here all alone and Clay took to coming over and helping. It was
̶
it was nice. We dated for about a month then he asked me to marry him.”
She sighed, polished off her drink and set the glass on the floor. “I don’t know why I said yes. I guess I was just lonely. But I said yes. Never took his name but I married him.”
“I take it the marriage didn’t take?”
“Nope.”
“And didn’t end well?”
“Not for him. He got into the habit of knocking me around pretty quick. I didn’t take to that and tended to fight back.” She barked a harsh laugh that had no humor in it. “You remember Clay so it’s not hard to guess that I usually ended up on the short end of that stick.
“Anyway, one night I was coming in from tending to the stock and he came staggering out of the house, drunk as a skunk. I tried to avoid him and headed out back toward the barn. He followed and started cussing and threatening me.
“The ferrets came tearing out of the house, all running around his legs, nipping at him and chattering. He was kicking at them and cussing at me and he fell.”
Zeb waited for her to finish the tale. When she remained silent, he spoke up. “And?”
“He fell into the rattler pit.”
That had Zeb sitting up straight in a flash. He hated snakes. With a passion. Even more than he hated rats. He’d known people in his youth who caught rattlers and sold them for their skins and venom and even for the meat but he’d never experienced it himself. He hated snakes.
“I’m guessing that he didn’t get back out.”
“Oh we got him hauled out but he was tag on the toe dead.”
Zeb considered it for a moment. “And his family blames you?”
“Oh yeah. I called the law when it happened and told them everything. It was ruled an accident but the Ellis family doesn’t see it that way and every now and then one of them shows up to threaten me.”