Wyoming Cowboy Ranger

“I can’t tell anything from that tape, but I’ve got threatening letters and a strange man in your store, so I’ve got to think of the obvious conclusion here. You could be in danger.”

“That’s absurd,” she responded. It had to be.

He stepped forward, and before she could sidestep him, he took her by the chin. Her whole body zoomed off into some other dimension she hadn’t been to in a very long time. She could only stare at him, while his big, rough hand held her face in place.

“I need you to be careful.” He was so solemn, so serious.

Her throat constricted and her heart beat so hard she was sure her whole body vibrated from the violence of it.

His grip on her chin softened, his fingertip moving along the line of her jaw. She wanted to melt into a puddle, but she wasn’t seventeen anymore, and with that fission of delight she was reminded she hated Ty Carson.

She slapped his hand away, raising her chin at him, trying for regal instead of panicked. “Don’t manhandle me.”

He only raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” she said, with more feeling than she should have shown him.

“I want you to be aware. Take precautions. Keep yourself safe and protected, and if that man comes in your store again, I want you to call me immediately.” He moved out of the way of the door and her exit. “It’s that simple.”

Simple? Sure. As if anything to do with Ty Carson was simple.

* * *

TY WALKED OUT of the general store knowing he’d overplayed his hand. Disgusted with himself for getting wrapped up in old feelings and memories and not focusing on the task at hand, he stalked to his motorcycle.

But he couldn’t eradicate the look of Jen’s brown eyes, wide on his, her mouth open in shock as he’d held her face. The flutter of pulse. It felt as though in that moment a million memories had arced between them.

He tried to shake it off. They weren’t the same people. He had regrets, sure. He should have handled everything with her father differently. But he hadn’t and there was no reason to beat himself up over it. You couldn’t change the past.

And he couldn’t change the fact being a soldier and away from home for nearly a decade with only sporadic visits when on leave had altered him. He wasn’t the same teenager who’d run off when the right pressure was applied. Even though Jen had stayed in Bent, she wasn’t the same girl.

They were different people, and if there was still a physical attraction it would be best if they both ignored it.

But even more important than that, he had to protect her from whatever was going on. He wasn’t sure how to do that yet, but he knew he had to figure it out.

He almost ran right into someone, so lost in his own irritable thoughts. He opened his mouth to apologize, until he recognized the middle-aged man before him.

Mr. Delaney’s eyes went from the store, to Ty, and then went hard and flat. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Carson.”

Funny how time didn’t change the utter authority in this man’s voice. Jen’s father thought he owned the world, and Ty was sick with regret for ever being a part of that certainty.

“Know what I’m doing? Hmm.” Ty smiled. “I suppose I always do.”

“You’ll watch your step where my daughter is concerned.”

Ty raised an eyebrow and looked back at the store himself. Then he let his smile widen into a wolfish grin.

“I got rid of you once, Tyler. I don’t know why I couldn’t do it again.”

Ty didn’t let the violent fury show. He wouldn’t give this man the satisfaction. He kept the smile in place, made sure his voice was lazy, but with enough edge to carry a threat. “I seem to recall you fooling around with a married woman, Delaney. I wonder what other dirty skeletons are rattling around in your closet. More torrid connections to other Carsons? Or are your kids taking care of that these days?”

It irritated Ty that not even a flicker of that blow hitting showed on Delaney’s face, though he knew it was at least a little knock to the man’s pride. That it had come out he’d had an affair with a woman who’d been married to someone else. And not just that, a woman who was blood related to Ty himself.

“Your cousins have made my children very happy,” Delaney said, surprising the hell out of Ty. “Maybe you shouldn’t have run away all those years ago.” He smiled pleasantly. “But you did. The kind of running away that isn’t so easy to forgive.”

Ty kept his smile in place by sheer force of will. He’d faced down his father’s fists. He had no trouble facing down Delaney’s barbs. “Funny thing about coming back home again.” He glanced at the store. “Some things never change, and some people are more forgiving than others.”

Finally he got a reaction out of Delaney, though it was only a tightening of his jaw. Still, it was better than nothing. “Impending grandparenthood looks good on you, Delaney. Have a nice day.” He patted the man’s shoulder, gratified when Delaney jerked away and stalked into the store.

To Jen. Ty sighed. The simple truth was he had more to worry about than Jen or her father. He had to worry about the messages he was receiving, the uncomfortable gut feeling he had that Jen was in danger. Because of him.

The most important thing was keeping her safe. Not because he still had feelings for her, but because it was the right thing to do. The timing of the letter, the mention of first loves and this stranger’s appearance in the store were too close to be coincidental or for him to believe Jen wasn’t a target.

If this connected to his military days—which were the only days he’d spent away from Bent—and Jen was a target, it would have to be from early in his career. Before the rangers.

He racked his brain for someone he’d wronged, someone he’d had friction with. A few superiors, but nothing personal. Just normal army stuff, and he’d hardly been the only soldier who’d occasionally mouthed off and gotten punished for it. There’d been the man he’d ratted out, but the man on the tape wasn’t Oscar. Not even close. Besides, Oscar had to have known his time in the army was limited when he couldn’t keep himself out of the booze or drugs.

Ty brought to mind the figure from Jen’s security tape. Not even a tingle of recognition. It ate at him, the faceless man manipulating Jen in her own store. It damn near burned him alive to think she’d be a target of something she had nothing to do with.

Target or not, her cooperation or not, he’d keep her safe. He just had to figure out how.

* * *

HE DIDN’T MIND cutting himself. He rather liked it. Watching the blood well up, drip down. He’d always liked blood. Dr. Michaels said he had to be careful, not to get too caught up in it.

She was right. He only had so much time. Ty would stay at the store for only so long, and it would take time to sneak into Rightful Claim. He had to craft his message quickly, then deliver it with just as much precision and speed.

The paper hadn’t worked, so he’d torn off a piece of his T-shirt and concentrated carefully as he used his bloody fingertip to spell out the message.

He admired his work. He supposed blood might tell, giving away his identity, but he wasn’t so worried about that. He liked the message of blood too much to worry about the connections.

Besides, by the time blood told, he’d have his revenge.

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