The Lawman's Promise Read online

  Duff’s phone vibrated and he pulled it out, looking at the screen. “Sorry. I have a text from Blake,” he said to his dad, then read her message.

  “I tried to call you, but it went straight to voicemail. I’ve decided to sell the farm. I’ll explain later. I’m heading to the Branson Ranch now to seal the deal. Talk soon.”

  His heart dropped. “Dad, we’ll talk later. I’ve got to go. I think Blake is in trouble.” He jumped out of the chair so fast it thumped the wall. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he tore out of the driveway…with one thing on his mind. He couldn’t let anything happen to Blake.

  ****

  Blake pulled onto the Branson Ranch and parked next to Ethan’s Porsche, but didn’t climb out. She sat in the driver’s seat, staring at the windows of the large house. After Duff had left her house for work that morning, she’d received a call from the nursing home. She was two months behind in payments and if she didn’t pay by the end of the month, they would have no choice but to release her grandmother to a state-run agency located an hour away. Blake was in a pickle with no way out. Her only choice was to sell the farm to Ethan. At least he was willing to pay her more than the value and she could help with Grams.

  With that thought weighing heavily on her mind, she slid out of the truck and walked up the flower lined sidewalk, surprised when Ethan opened the door himself. It was usually Patterson who greeted all visitors.

  “I’m not sure why you wanted to see me, but I’m a little busy,” Ethan said as he stepped aside so she could enter.

  “Let’s get this over with,” she said as she strode inside. “You know why I’m here.”

  “Another round of unladylike threats?” He lifted a groomed brow.

  She snorted. “Stop playing the victim. I’m ready to sell.”

  Surprise fluttered across his features, but then a proud smile parted his lips. “That’s a shock.”

  “Don’t make me change my mind.”

  “Against what you might think, I’m not getting satisfaction from this.” A glimpse of sincerity filled his eyes. “I’d hoped for something more, but I guess now that Duff is back in town, there’s no chance of that happening.”

  “Duff has nothing to do with us, Ethan. If we were meant to be, we would still be together.”

  He rubbed his clean-shaven jaw. “You couldn’t get past Duff.”

  “No, I couldn’t.” She didn’t feel any reason to lie.

  All softness in his expression disappeared, exchanged for an aloof, business mask. “Come into my office. I’ll write you a check.”

  “I don’t have the paperwork…”

  He shrugged. “I trust you.”

  She followed him down a long hallway and into his office. The walls were lined with framed country art. For a man who loved the finer, more expensive things in life, his office was simple and rustic. A short beige sofa and matching chair filled part of the space, the other held his massive mahogany desk. It was surprising to her that the entire time they were seeing each other she hadn’t once been in here.

  He took a seat in the black executive chair, pulled out a checkbook from the drawer, opened it, and slipped through pages.

  She stepped closer. “This is what I’m asking.” She reached into her back pocket, pulled out the piece of paper and slid it across the polished desk.

  Ethan’s eyes flashed surprise. “That’s more than I offered.”

  “Yes, I know it is.”

  “I was already offering ten percent more than the value of the property,” he said smoothly.

  “Ethan, if we can’t agree…” She reached for the paper, but he stopped her by laying his hand over hers. She jerked her gaze up, meeting his.

  “That’s what I always loved about you. You know what you want and aren’t afraid of going after it.”

  She pulled her hand out from under his, letting his drop to the polished wood. He squinted. For the first time in a long time, she felt a sliver of guilt because she saw the hurt in his eyes.

  He took a pen from the container and, without any more hesitation, filled out a check and tore it from the book, handing it to her. She read his neat penmanship and the number written in the amount she’d asked for. After paying all of the bills, she’d have enough left over to bring her Grams home—yet not to the McKenzie Farm. Her eyes misted but she blinked, breathing in sharply to control her emotions. This was her only chance of doing the right thing.

  “Don’t accept his offer.”

  Blake jumped at the sound of the thick, familiar voice. Swiveling on her heel, she found Duff standing in the doorway. “What are you doing here?”

  “I just came from having an interesting conversation with Amos and my father,” Duff said, his steely gaze narrowed on Ethan over her shoulder.

  “Good for you, but Blake and I are conducting business. If you will, please wait outside.”

  Duff stepped into the office and the oxygen seemed to deplete. He was a large man, but his obvious anger could have scared a tiger. “No, that won’t be happening. Do you happen to know where your assistant is?”

  “My assistant? I have no clue,” Ethan said with a wave of his hand. “I gave him the boot earlier today.”

  Blake kept her watchful gaze on Duff. “I came here, Duff. He didn’t pressure me, at least not today. I have to do this. We’ll talk later.”

  “No, you don’t,” he said, the warmth of his gaze pouring into her soul.

  Clearing her throat, she hoped her voice worked. “I’m grateful of your confidence that I could overcome my financial difficulties, but I have no other choice. Please, Duff, this is hard enough. I need your support.” She looked at him through blurred vision.

  “Blake, ask him to leave so that we can finish our business deal,” Ethan said in a low voice.

  “You might want to hear what I have to say first. This goes for you too, Branson.” Duff’s jaw was as hard as iron. Worried lines appeared around his eyes.

  “What is it?” Blake wrapped her arms around her waist.

  “Now what have you conjured up, my friend? Another dead calf or letter that I supposedly had written?” Ethan snorted and chuckled coldly.

  “No, you didn’t do either dirty deed,” Duff said.

  “About time you saw—”

  “Patterson did. At least he killed the calf. He paid Amos to write the letter and dig some holes.”

  Blake leaned forward, feeling her stomach twist. “Duff?”

  “What?” Ethan stood up from the desk, bracing his hands on the top. “What gave you a crazy idea like that? What would he gain from killing a calf and writing a letter?”

  Engulfed in their conversation, none of them noticed the figure moving in slowly from the hallway.

  “What the hell?” Ethan sputtered.

  Blake turned and looked at Ethan. He was pale and sweating. “What’s wrong with you, Ethan? You look like you’re going to be sick?” she asked.

  “Patterson, what are you doing here?” Ethan asked.

  Bake shifted, scanning the room, seeing Patterson beyond Duff’s shoulder.

  “Be careful there, partner,” Duff said calmly to Patterson. “You’re a little shaky it seems.”

  Duff moved and Blake saw what had worried both Duff and Ethan. Patterson was holding a gun aimed at Duff’s chest. A shriek slipped from her lips.

  “Lose the weapon, Tyler.” Patterson pointed at Duff’s holster.

  “What the hell is going on?” Ethan said again, rounding the desk. “Patterson. Have you lost your mind?”

  “Lost my mind?’ Patterson’s grueling laughter echoed off the walls. “You could say that. You really don’t know all that I’ve done for you. I’ve cleaned up your messes, pressed your suits, and driven you all over the place so you could get fucked.”

  “Sounds like an employee complaint that doesn’t require a gun,” Ethan said, his color returning.

  “Shut up. You’re not my boss any longer. Now, for the last time, the weapon.”

 
Duff slowly laid his hand on his gun, gently withdrew it from the belt, and laid it on the floor, giving it a push with his foot, sending it across the planked floor. “You’re only getting yourself in deeper shit, Patterson.”

  Patterson’s jaw tightened. “I’ve been in deeper shit.”

  “Patterson. Put the gun away,” Ethan demanded.

  The man’s glazed over eyes penetrated the space and he turned the gun on Ethan who lifted his hands. “Don’t talk. It’ll do no good.”

  Duff took a short step toward Patterson “Why are you doing this? Help us understand.”

  Patterson shifted his gaze, his mouth thinning. “Maybe I should be asking you why you’d bother with her.” He jutted his chin toward Blake who was pressed up against the arm of the couch. Her heart was beating so fast that she thought there was a risk it would bounce right out of her chest. Patterson’s hands were shaking and the gun swayed between her and Ethan.

  “Why do you dislike me, Patterson?” Her intention was to get his attention on her and away from Duff. She couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to him. Her eyes misted, but she forced her emotions to stay steady.

  He chuckled, cold and hateful. “I don’t hate you. I don’t care one bit about you, but I’m afraid I can’t let you walk out of here alive today. All you had to do was sell the property and move away. Why was that so hard? What is wrong with country folk who can’t seem to let go of anything. It’s a piece of land.” The gun wavered again.

  “Why do you care about my farm?”

  “I don’t care about the farm. I care about the money buried on the property.”

  “Money?” She was more confused now than ever. “So you believe the rumors too.” She shook her head. “I assure you, there is no truth to the stories. I would know. My grandparents would have said something to me.”

  “Come on, Ethan. Don’t you think it’s high time you told her the truth?” Patterson muttered.

  “There’s nothing to tell.” Ethan’s hardened gaze targeted Patterson.

  “Then I’ll fill you in. Apparently old man Branson was feeling guilty with death drawing near and confessed what he’d done years ago with your grandfather and the sheriff’s father. They came across a good bit of money and each of them stashed it in the ground on their property. However, only one of them had self-control. Bill McKenzie, who saved for a rainy day. Unfortunately for you, it’s not only raining but pouring and old Gramps forgot to tell you where the money is hidden.”

  Blake’s throat constricted. “That’s not true. That’s a lie.” She turned on Ethan. “Tell him it’s a lie.”

  “Blake, it’s true,” he said blankly.

  “But Gramps and Grams never had any money. We scraped by.”

  “Your Gramps didn’t have any need for material assets.”

  “Duff?” Blake looked to him.

  “Dad admitted everything.”

  “Oh, don’t forget the juiciest part of all of this.” Patterson snickered.

  “Shut up, Patterson,” Ethan said through gritted teeth.

  “Or what? If you haven’t noticed I’m holding the gun.” He cackled. “I’ll tell her. I’ll get great satisfaction. Your Gramps paid your father to leave. Apparently, he was a loser. And when your mother turned out to be much like your father, I mean, after all, she did have you at fifteen, they gave her enough money to disappear too. I’d figure that took a chunk of the underground stash, but I’d say there’s still enough left for me to get the money promised if I took care of the situation.”

  “I didn’t tell you to kill the calf,” Ethan said. “I only asked you to get Amos’s cooperation.”

  “True, but you didn’t mind as long as I didn’t entertain you with the dirty side of the business.”

  Blake wrapped her brain around the information. “That’s why Amos seemed even more determined to find the treasure.” She swallowed an acid taste. “You wanted to marry me just to get my land.”

  Ethan sighed. “No, Blake. I didn’t know about the money until six months ago. I promise.”

  “And you didn’t tell me? You wanted it all to yourself,” she muttered.

  He didn’t respond.

  “Of course he did, you twit!” Patterson smiled. “Your ex-lover is finding out that money doesn’t flow like water. Anything good does have an end.”

  Blake removed her gaze from Ethan, not capable of looking at him. “The money doesn’t belong to Gramps, or your father, or Ross. And certainly not to us. It’s stolen. Right, Duff?”

  “In a roundabout way, yes it is. But Ethan and Patterson saw it as an opportunity to get their hands on money that has been forgotten. If we turn it in, there’s always the chance of someone unsavory coming for it. We can’t take the risk, Blake.” One corner of Duff’s mouth lowered.

  “Aww, a man with logic.” Patterson took a step closer to Blake and she whimpered. Duff started forward, but Patterson aimed the gun directly at his chest. “Stop right there. Don’t be a hero, cowboy. You might be a badass, but my pistol takes no prisoners.”

  “Patterson, you’re angry at me so we’ll take care of this man to man. If you feel I owe you money, then I’ll write you a check. I have my checkbook out and all I have to do is fill in the lines. Simple and easy.” Ethan started toward his desk.

  “Fuck you. Don’t make a move! No heroics please because I’m itching to scatter brains across these white walls. I never liked the pictures. I’m also fully aware of the gun you have hidden under the desk.”

  Ethan didn’t argue. He shrugged and took his place in front of the desk. “What do you plan on doing?”

  “I think it’s obvious, don’t you?” Patterson sneered.

  Blake took a step forward. “Let Duff go. He has nothing to do with this,” she pleaded.

  “No, but he’s the sheriff. I’m not stupid.”

  “Then we’ll go to the farm and find the treasure,” she offered. “It can be all yours.”

  “Now who’s being stupid. Do you realize how long it would take to find the stash? It’s too late for that.” Patterson’s expression turned blank.

  “They’ll know you’re the killer if you shoot us. My deputy already knows the details. Amos will talk too,” Duff said.

  “I’ll be long gone before anyone is the wiser,” he said in confidence.

  ****

  Relax. Relax. Relax.

  Duff continued to say the word over and over in his head.

  This wasn’t the first time he’d found himself at the end of a gun so this wouldn’t have been anything new for him if it wasn’t that the woman he loved was in danger too. This made the situation far more treacherous. If he wasn’t afraid of the gun firing, Duff would have already tackled the bastard, Patterson, and taken the weapon. But it was too risky. Now that his own gun was three feet away, he couldn’t easily reach for it. He took his mind down several different paths of action, imagining the outcome of each, and with every one, the danger of Blake getting hurt was too chancy.

  “Which one of you wants to go first?” Patterson asked. Silence. “Just as I thought.” He sighed as if he was making a choice between steak or chicken. “Eeny…” He pointed the gun at Blake. “Meeny…” Then at Ethan. “Miny…”

  Duff was ready to take matters into his own hands…

  The gun stopped on Blake…

  “I was hoping it would be you,” Patterson sneered.

  Duff charged Patterson as he heard the gun go off, followed by Blake’s scream. Duff had knocked the other man to the ground. He struggled, but Duff was sprawled on top of Paterson, pounding the gun out of his hand. Duff drew back and landed his fist hard against Patterson’s thin chin, and the man’s head hit the floor and he was out cold.

  Hurrying up from the floor, everything seemed to blur—his surroundings, the scene in front of him. Blake was lying on the floor, one arm held over her head, and Ethan was slumped on top of her. A puddle of blood was increasing in size around them. Neither was moving. The oxygen seemed to d
isappear and Duff could barely manage to force his feet to move. He dragged his radio from his belt, barely registering what he was doing, moving blindly through a fog as he fell to his knees, feeling warm wetness soak his knees.

  “Ambulance needed at Branson Ranch. We have a victim who has been shot. Hurry! Now!” The voice wasn’t his own, and yet it was. His throat felt like he’d swallowed razor blades. What would he do without Blake?

  EPILOGUE

  Six months later.

  WHEN DUFF WALKED out of the Buttermilk Valley Church that stood in the center of town with his new wife on his arm, he was full of pride as he faced their family and friends. His father beamed and his sister Kelly was waving. The twins were jumping up and down. They were all lined up on the sidewalk, smiling and happy for him and Blake. The air smelled sweeter, the pink and white blossoms on the trees lining the street looked prettier. The sun seemed brighter. The air seemed cleaner. Life seemed better now that he was a married man—married to the woman he’d always loved. Sunlight bathed them in a gentle, warm glow as they paused at the top of the cement stairs, snaps of cameras going off as people took pictures.

  “Congratulations, you two lovebirds,” someone yelled from the crowd.

  “Thank you,” Blake responded, cuddling closer to his side. “I couldn’t be happier. I have the man of my dreams.”

  He’d spent the last several months loving Blake with all of his heart and soul. Although he’d wanted to marry her long ago, she’d wanted to take things slow. He respected her desire because he knew what she’d really wanted was for her Grams to get better and be here today among their loved ones. That didn’t happen, unfortunately. Duff promised her that they would see her before they headed off to Bora Bora for their honeymoon later on.

  His heart pounded hard against his ribs. He never knew it was possible to love another the way he did his wife. He would spend his days loving her…protecting her. They would have a family and live happily ever after. For all of the non-believers, he would prove that couples could have second chances.