Page 39 of Wyoming Tough

“He isn’t represented,” she replied. “His attorney quit when he escaped and ran from the law.”

“Oh, boy.”

“I know. I shouldn’t get involved. But he seems a decent man. You’d have to know the Kirk brothers to understand why I think he’s innocent. Tank isn’t easily fooled about people.”

“Ah. But he’s fooled about you, isn’t he?”

She had to concede that point. “Touché.”

“Tell you what. I know some people in the judiciary in Wyoming. I’ll make a few phone calls. What’s the man’s name?”

“Joe Bascomb.”

“Okay. But you stay out of it. Believe me, you don’t want to be charged as an accessory, in aiding an escaped convict,” he added.

“Yes, I know. I won’t. Thanks.”

“Hey, how could I turn down my favorite girl?” he teased. “See you soon. Take care.”

“You, too.”

She closed up the little phone with a sigh. It wasn’t any of her business. But the man had seemed so personable. He could have killed her, attacked her, if he’d wanted to. There had been nobody to help her. But he’d been polite and courteous and kind. It spoke volumes about the sort of person he was. She had to help if she could. And you never knew, she considered. There was a pattern to life. He’d become entwined in hers. There had to be a reason, somewhere. She might find it out one day.

THE NEXT MORNING, Mallory was looking at her with more suspicion than ever. She walked over to him, trying not to notice how very attractive he was. She wished she could have met him in her real persona, as she was, so that things would have been on an equal footing from the beginning. As it was, he’d know someday that she’d lied to him about her status. Or perhaps he wouldn’t. She could go home, go back to the old life, marry the nice clean-cut young millionaire her father was pressing her to marry and settle down. She could forget the rough rancher who lived in Wyoming and thought she was shady and untrustworthy. If only he could know how much those accusations hurt her.

She looked up at him with wide dark eyes. “Something wrong, boss?”

“You know that we keep a record of all outgoing phone calls here?” he asked solemnly.

Her heart jumped. She’d called Texas. In fact, she’d called her uncle’s office.

“Do you?” she asked, trying to sound innocent.

“I’d like to know why you were phoning a superior court judge in Texas,” he said simply. He shoved his hands into his pockets and gave her a cold smile. “In fact, the same superior court judge who flew up here for our party. Did you discuss something more than canapés when you met him outside and Gelly caught you? Is he your lover? Or do you have a lawsuit in mind and you’re looking for advice? I do recall that you threatened to sue Gelly.”

Her heart raced while she searched for excuses that wouldn’t sound any more alarm bells. She didn’t want to give away Tank’s friend. If Mallory knew she’d seen the man in the woods, he might call the sheriff. She didn’t want to cause the poor man any more trouble than she already had.

“I forgot to add something to the recipe I gave him,” she blurted out.

He blinked and stared at her. “Excuse me?”

“The canapé recipe,” she continued. “I forgot to tell him how long his housekeeper should cook them. He said they were having some big to-do on his family’s ranch next month and he wanted the recipe for that.”

“So you called him in the middle of the night to tell him?” he asked, incredulous.

She grimaced. “It was when I remembered it,” she replied, and shrugged. “I forget stuff.”

“Not his phone number, apparently,” he mused.

“It was listed on the internet,” she muttered, prevaricating because it was for a good cause. “I used a search engine. I knew his name and what he did for a living. The rest was easy.”

He let out a long breath. He always seemed to be suspicious of her, and he hated himself for it. She seemed to be an honest, hardworking, kind young woman. But he didn’t trust his instincts. He’d been taken in one time too many by a woman who wasn’t what she seemed. This one knew her way around the law, despite her protests, and she could pose a real threat to the ranch if she was trying to set him up.

On the other hand, his heart started doing cartwheels every time he looked at her, and that was getting worse by the day. He wanted her. He was having a hard time hiding it, especially from his brothers, who noticed everything.

Gelly was furious that he even talked about Morie, which he did often, involuntarily. He’d mentioned her help in the kitchen, which Mavie had been overjoyed to have. Gelly wouldn’t dirty her fingers in a kitchen, and she was already jealous. Too jealous. He’d let the woman get too familiar with him, just by not pushing her away when he still could. Now she was talking about marriage and interceding with him for a friend who wanted to buy some scrubland on the northernmost end of the ranch.

“It’s just worthless land,” she coaxed. “You can’t run cattle on it. This poor man just lost everything he had. He just wants a few acres to live on. Maybe grow a little garden.”

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