Page 48 of Wrangled Up

“Yes.”

“Then you know that they lease out property in this area and pay the landowners for the rights to mine.”

“I don’t know firsthand, but whatever you say.” Christian wasn’t going to give an inch to this man. He’d dealt with way too many hotheads like him—men who manipulated and used aggression to bow people to their wills. No wonder Tucker wasn’t signing that contract. If Leon had his thumb on Tucker, he’d only jerk himself out from under it and go his own way.

“Listen, kid. We need to get hold of Tucker, and if you help us, there’s something in it for you.”

Christian reeled. A bribe, eh? Flash a fat wallet and Christian would hand over Tucker on a platter, complete with the trimmings, is that what Leon thought?

“We can’t—” Claire started, but Christian reached behind him and gripped her forearm. Her words cut off, and she let out a low breath. He squeezed lightly.

“We can’t force Tucker to get in touch with you. He knows where to find you if he wants you.”

“I see he may have told you to keep quiet. Well, no matter,” Leon said.

“We’ll take what we want,” Dale added. He stabbed a button that fired the engine of his four-wheeler. Leon took his son’s lead and in seconds, they had torn a circle in the turf and were riding hell-bent for the ridge.

Christian watched them until they were out of sight. Then he twisted to gather Claire into his arms.

“What kind of family is that—bribing us for information and to sell out Tucker?” She dropped her head to his chest.

He smoothed a hand over her curls and down her spine. She was as tense as a bombdefuser at a crowded mall. “You got your cell on you?”

She drew away from him, surprise crossing her glowing face. “Always do. Why?”

“Put a call in to Tucker. If we bombard him with calls and voicemails, eventually he’ll have to cave and call us back. Just don’t tell him about his family. We want to do that once we get him on the line.”

She caught her lip in her teeth and stepped away with her cell, as if she couldn’t touch Christian while thinking about Tucker. If he didn’t know better, he’d believe that. But as they made love, Tucker was there between them, always. The man’s spirit locked them together.

Christian gripped Boom Boom’s fence and stared at the animal as Claire made the call.

“Tucker, it’s Claire. Talk to us, please.” A pause from her that drove Christian over the edge with emotion. During the times Claire had called Tucker, how the hell could the man listen to the longing in her voice and ignore it? Just overhearing her now made Christian want to put his fist through the barn wall.

Selfish son of a bitch.

“Christian and I really need you to call us back. There are things going on around here that we need to discuss with you.” She faltered. If Tucker didn’t hear that break in her voice and feel like the biggest horse patty on the planet, Christian would kick his ass until he did.

“Call us back. Today.” She ended the call and huffed out a long breath. When she plastered her body to Christian’s back, he turned to hold her.

“Are you going to make a call now too?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Later.” Tucker was going to get a piece of his mind—his protective hackles were up and the man was going to know it. There would be no pleases or thank yous. Just Christian telling his friend where his priorities lay, and to quit acting like a horse with a bruised foot that won’t stop running.

Claire moved out of his arms and climbed over the fence to be with Boom Boom again. The alpaca gave her a solace that Christian couldn’t always provide. When she was with the animal, Tucker was close in her mind. The moment when Christian had discovered her smashing in Tucker’s truck, he’d steppedbetween them. Even when Tucker had pulled Christian into bed with him and Claire, he’d been a barrier Tucker threw up to keep from showing too much emotion.

Claire strode to the alpaca’s shed, and the beast trotted at her heels. She reached onto a peg and pulled down a pink rhinestone leash. Clipping it onto Boom Boom’s neck, she crooned to the animal.

“Gonna take a walk and learn how to strut.”

A laugh burbled in Christian’s chest. “Strut, you say?”

Claire glanced at him, her smile back in place. Though her eyes danced, he detected the underlying pain ebbing from her. She tugged on the leash, and the alpaca followed easily.

“Yes, a sweet little alpaca like Boom Boom is going to the fair. You don’t suppose she can walk past the judges like a common hog, do you?”

Christian laughed deeply. Leave it to Claire to clear the atmosphere—hell, the stratosphere—of tension. Her lightheartedness was a true gift. And anyone who didn’t see her for a perfect specimen of womanly charms was an idiot.

“You take your alpaca for a strut. I’ll be mixing up the hot mash.” In the evenings, they’d been tucking the horses into the stalls with a yummy treat, and their spirits seemed improved as a result. He swore the animals mourned Tucker’s loss too. Hell, when Claire worked her shifts at the diner, the animals seemed to miss her.

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