Page 43 of River Legacy
The man who answered the door was enough like Ryder to be his evil twin. The resemblance was striking, but where Ryder might be a nice guy, CJ Stafford didn’t even pretend to be.
“You know how to shoot a gun?” CJ barked, but didn’t even wait for an answer as he shoved a weapon into his hands. “I didn’t think so. But where you’re going, you can learn.” He handed him a couple boxes of ammunition. “Practice with some tin cans out behind the place where you’ll be staying.” He must have seen Claude’s dislike for guns. “What exactly is it you do for Forester?”
“Whatever he asks.”
CJ raised a brow. “He tell you to do whateverIask?”
Claude hated to admit that he had. “What do you need me to do?”
The evil twin laughed. “I’ll let you know. For starters, I need you to go back out by the Stafford Ranch.” Claude started to object, but he waved it off. “I suspect you aren’t any more welcome there than I am. I need to know who comes and goes from the ranch.” He handed him a map. “There’s an old place on the other side of the river. You can hide out there. It’s pretty primitive, so buy yourself some good binoculars and what you’d need if youwere camping out for a couple of weeks. Once you get there, call me. Stay there and report to me. Got it? My number’s on the map.”
Pretend he was camping out? He’d never camped out in his life. This sounded like the last thing he wanted to do, but it was his last job for Wen, he reminded himself. He said, “Sure. Why not?”
“Good thinking. That’s it. Get movin’, and if you’re smart you’ll learn to shoot the gun.”
Claude wasn’t CJ Stafford. He really doubted he’d ever have a use for a gun. But he didn’t argue. Instead, he went back out the door he’d come in, map in one hand, gun in the other, ammunition weighing down his jacket pocket. What the hell had Wen gotten him involved in? Maybe more important, what was his boss doing working with CJ Stafford?
In the SUV again, he stopped at a grocery store, stocked up what he might need for a couple of weeks and considered the map. He had no idea what to expect of this old place he would apparently be hiding out in and spying on the Stafford Ranch. At least that part sounded all right.
He bought plenty of snack food and drinks. At the last minute, he stopped at a sporting goods store and picked up a camping stove, a pan, utensils, a bedroll, a cot and lantern and anything else to make this assignment not be pure hell. He charged it all to Wen on the company credit card.
The drive was just as boring as the other time he’d made the trip out to the Stafford Ranch. Hekept thinking of Victoria spending the night in the barn, hay in her hair, looking like something the cat had dragged in, as his mother used to say. Maybe she was cut out for ranch work. More than likely she was doing the rancher—and apparently anywhere he wanted.
He found the turnoff to the old place just past the Stafford Ranch and drove up the hill to where he found an abandoned house. It looked rough, but it wasn’t leaning too badly, and it had a roof. He hated to think what it would be like inside, though. He parked the SUV behind it and got out to inspect the dilapidated structure, wondering what he would do if it was as bad inside as he anticipated.
When he pushed open the back door, he was glad to see that someone had been here and cleaned it out. It smelled musty, but he didn’t see any rodents around, so he made the call to CJ, letting him know he’d made it.
Then he set about turning the place into his makeshift temporary home. He hoped he wouldn’t really be here for weeks. The things he did for Wen, he thought with a curse. If that wasn’t bad enough, now he was working for CJ Stafford, who he thought just might be even more dangerous than his egomaniacal boss.
Ryder had been in the barn with his brother when he heard a vehicle coming up the road toward them. Brand had been busy saddling up to ride out after a neighbor had called to inform them that they hadsome fence down in a far pasture. “Go on and check the fence. I can let the mare and colt out into the pasture,” he told his brother.
Brand, who’d always been the more curious sibling, walked his horse over to the open doorway and stepped out to see who it was.
Ryder heard him say, “Well, I’ll be. I didn’t expect that.”
Unable not to, Ryder walked out to join his brother who elbowed him and pointed at what had just driven up in the yard. “Didn’t expect it, but I guess we should have,” Brand said with a chuckle.
From where they were standing, Ryder saw the older-model faded red pickup that had pulled in and recognized it—just as he did the woman who had climbed out.
The moment he saw the high heels and then those long bare legs exiting the truck, he swore. “What the hell is she doing in that pickup, let alone back here?”
“Beats me,” Brand said, chuckling.
Ryder stalked toward Vicky, wondering what she thought she was doing showing up here again. His mind fought with his heart. No matter what she and her father were up to, he wasn’t interested. His heart, however, couldn’t help beating faster at the sight of her. Damn, he thought. That woman had done a number on him.
She held up a hand as he approached. “Hear me out. Please.”
He’d been trying his best to forget Victoria Foresterever existed. He’d told himself all morning that at least he would never have to lay eyes on her again. She’d get in that private jet and wing her way back to her famous life. Shoot, by tonight, he’d told himself, she would be partying with her friends. He hated to think what she’d be telling her friends about the cowboy she hadn’t only kissed.
After she’d left earlier, he’d been working to put the whole thing behind him. Unfortunately, he kept having flashbacks of the two of them in his big bed, both of them naked as a jaybird. He’d told himself he would forget what she looked like. He wouldn’t remember those flecks of gold in her green eyes any more than he would remember the feel of her lips on his. The sweet sound of her breath escaping as he touched her.
Seeing her again brought it all back in Technicolor.What was she doing here?A half-dozen questions leaped into his head. What had she done with Claude? Why was she driving Hank Armstrong’s old truck? What part ofGet losthad she not understood? He’d thought he’d made himself clear that she wasn’t welcome here ever again—as much as it had pained him to do so.
He opened his mouth, not sure which question to ask first. What came out was “What did you do with Claude?”
“I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re worried about. I wanted to, but I didn’t.”
Ryder shook his head. “Where—”
