Texas Tough (The Tylers of Texas 2)

Killing Coy hadn’t been part of her original plan. But between his marijuana patch and his big mouth, she’d figured that sooner or later he was bound to get them both in trouble and ruin everything. She’d never liked Coy—the way he’d teased her and tormented the stray animals she befriended. But she hadn’t thought of killing him until a few weeks ago when she’d come across the loaded 9 mm Glock Nick kept in the back of the drawer below the cash register.

Staring down at the gun, Marie had felt a thrill as her scheme came together. After meeting Sky that first night in the parking lot, she had taken the gun with gloved hands, ridden the Harley back to Coy’s camp, and done what she needed to. It had been easier than she’d expected, leaving her with scarcely a twinge of regret.

Now all she had to do was wait.

CHAPTER 10

Sky was pulling off his dusty boots when his cell phone rang. He willed himself to ignore the leap of his pulse as he saw her name. Nearly a week had passed since Beau had e-mailed Lauren at the Prescott Ranch office, asking about her horse and whether she planned on returning to work. Neither he nor Sky had heard back from her.

Lauren was impulsive, to say the least. Sky wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that she’d had it out with her father and decided to fly back to Maryland. He couldn’t imagine she’d leave without telling him or Beau. But then again, how well did he really know her?

Reminding himself of that, he dropped his boots and took the call.

“Sky?” Her husky voice sounded uncertain, as if she was afraid he might be angry.

“Lauren? Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” She didn’t sound fine, he thought.

“Where are you? I’ve been worried about you.” Worried was an understatement. He’d lain awake nights wondering where she was and what might have happened to her. But he’d be damned if he’d let her know that.

“I’m at the ranch. I left for a little while. It’s . . . complicated.”

“I’m listening.”

There was a long pause. “My father found out about us. He threatened to ruin you if I saw you again.”

“That’s no surprise. We should’ve known it might happen.” Sky willed himself not to feel—no anger, no disappointment. It was what it was.

“I saw Beau’s e-mail about Storm Cloud. Do you still have him?”

“I’ve been working with him. He’s doing fine. But he needs to go home.”

“Sorry about that. I’ll pay his expenses, of course, or Beau can just take it out of what he owes me.” Again, there was a beat of silence. “My father went to Lubbock tonight. He told me he wouldn’t be back till morning. I think he must have a girlfriend somewhere.”

Sky waited, sensing she had more to say, guessing at what it might be.

“I need to see you,” she said. “If you could ride Storm Cloud over here, we could put him up and I could drive you home.”

Sky glanced at the bedside clock. Eleven-fifteen. Was the woman pulling his strings—keeping him on edge for days, then expecting him to come running like a besotted puppy at her call? It would serve her right if he turned her down and sent Storm Cloud home in a trailer tomorrow.

And what about her father? Who was to say Prescott wouldn’t change his mind and come home early?

But why was he arguing with himself? The urge to see Lauren, even just to talk, was driving him like a whip.

“Sky, are you still there?” How long had he kept her waiting for an answer?

His free hand reached for his boots. “I’m on my way. Just tell me where to find you.”

By the time she ended the call, Lauren was trembling. Phoning Sky had crushed her pride and drained her courage. Facing him would be even harder, especially given what she needed to say.

Sinking onto the porch swing, she struggled to make sense of the past few days. As the plane had lifted off the runway, bound for Baltimore, she’d told herself she was doing the right thing. The idea of a caring relationship with her father was nothing more than a fairy tale. The longer she stayed with him, the worse his abuse was bound to become. He might even break down and hit her, the way she remembered him hitting her mother. There was no way she would stand for that.

As for Sky, he was better off without her. They’d had a few laughs, but trying to make it last would be like hanging an anvil around his neck. She was doing him a favor, she’d told herself. Even without the damage her father could do, the last thing Sky needed was to be saddled with a neurotic mess like Miss Lauren Prescott.

Leaving without telling him good-bye had been the coward’s way out. But any attempt to explain would have been a disaster. She’d planned to write him a letter from Maryland, a nice, polite one, thanking him for what they’d shared and wishing him the best.

What they’d shared . . .