Gunslinger. Angi MorganЧитать онлайн книгу.
to two chairs and a small patio table—her fourth anniversary present to herself.
No matter what she kept telling her mind to do, she couldn’t avoid the manly chest turning a feminine shade of pink. He took a sip of tea, then gulped it down.
“That’s really good. Just hit the spot.”
“Thanks again for the help, Bryce. If you hadn’t been home, I’d be watching that pole saw rust.”
“I doubt that, but anytime.” He tipped his straw hat in her direction.
“That’s interesting.”
“What?”
“The hat-tipping thing. No one under the age of sixty has ever tipped their hat to me before. In fact, I’d never seen it until I moved to Hico. People wave when they pass in their cars. They acknowledge me on the sidewalk. They even open the museum door, wave and go on their way.”
“I’d say they’re just being friendly.” He finished off his tea and set the glass down.
“It’s the reason I stayed here. I hadn’t planned on it, but I’m glad I did.”
“That’s right. You work in the Billy the Kid Museum.” He took another long gulp of his tea. “I used to make my brother pretend he was Billy the Kid when we were practicing quick draw.”
That’s what she wanted...to be so relaxed and easy going. She sipped. It had been five years. Maybe it was possible? “And who would you pretend to be?”
“The sheriff.”
“Why not the outlaw? I thought kids wanted to be the cool gunslinger who shot things up?” She noticed he actually looked a little embarrassed. “Did you play cops and robbers, too?”
“I think I got in trouble one too many times for shooting birds with my BB gun. Too many lectures on how I should be a better example. Besides, the good guys always win.”
“I’ve heard that.”
Before she could think again if she was the good or the bad, she heard his cell vibrate.
He jumped to his feet and reached into his back pocket. “Excuse me a second, I have to take this.”
Kylie tried not to listen. Maybe it was a habit mixed with genuine curiosity, but she felt uncomfortable and moved out of earshot to the tree. It wasn’t difficult to discern the phone call was upsetting to Bryce. His side of the conversation was a lot of one-word responses. His body language became very stiff and formal. She sipped her tea, looking at the dead limb that still needed to be trimmed back to the trunk.
When he returned, Bryce dropped his hands to his knees, bending at the waist to lean forward.
Kylie set her glass down, approaching cautiously. No matter how much she wanted to know this man, she didn’t. That was a fact that she couldn’t push aside. “Is something wrong?”
“Everything, I’m afraid. Someone couldn’t do their job correctly and my timetable’s been advanced.” He straightened.
The sadness and concern didn’t belong on his handsome features. The urge to wipe them aside was too strong to ignore. She recognized it and held it in a secret place where she kept most of her emotions.
“I’m sorry, Bryce. I hope things work out for the best.”
“I hope so, too. There’s something you should know, Kylie.” Bryce rested his hands on his hips. “If I can find you...so can Xander Tenoreno.”
Kylie could feel the blood drain from her face as fast as it had in her knees. Barely able to stand, she sort of rocked before catching herself on the tree trunk. Her ex-husband’s name hadn’t been said in front of her for almost four years. She wanted to run. Hide.
Bryce watched her reaction. He saw it all. She knew what the fright looked like and she hadn’t hidden it. The look on his face confirmed for her that he knew he’d found the right person. She couldn’t deny it. Well, she could, but it wouldn’t do her any good. He wouldn’t believe her.
“Are you a cop?”
He shook his head, squinted, then rubbed the back of his neck as if he was mad for being right. An odd reaction from someone who had completely wrecked her life.
She looked at the serving tray and the ceramic outdoor table it sat on. Neither would cross over to her new life. Whatever that ended up being. Just the things that fit inside two suitcases. Nothing more. Not even the laptop. She couldn’t borrow a car. He’d just follow.
Everything stayed here.
The escape plan was in place. The cash was in a box under the bathroom sink along with a passible ID. All she had to do was fake whatever Mr. Unbelievable standing in front of her wanted.
“If you worked for Xander, I’d already be dead. So who are you?” All the excitement of finally having the courage to face Bryce sort of evaporated along with any moisture in the heated air.
“Bryce Johnson. I’m a Texas Ranger here to help you.”
“Help me right out of my comfortable home and life you mean.” She picked up the tea glasses, along with the tray. Another wave of sadness crashed into her heart at the thought of leaving. “It was that silly picture for the online article, wasn’t it?”
He nodded. “And your eyes. You changed the color but not the vitality that’s there.”
“Strange words from a man who probably just got me killed.” She walked across the porch, the lock heavy in her pocket. The urge to run to the fence and secure the gate made her stop before opening the door. Bryce was following and paused on the steps.
“We can help you, if you allow us to.”
“I told the police, and anyone else who would listen, everything that happened that night.” The nightmare images forced her to stare at a pure drop of water sliding down the empty glass. If she shut her eyes or even blinked, she’d be transported back to the white gravel stained with blood.
“Kylie.”
Startled by the shock of his touch, she dropped the tray. One glass shattered and one rolled across the wooden porch. “Isn’t that weird? Ever wonder why sometimes they break and sometimes they don’t?”
“All the time.” He knelt beside her to pick up the broken pieces. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“What did you expect when you announced that my ex could find me? Is he really looking again?”
Their eyes met and held as he asked, “Again?”
Nice eyes. Such a shame.
Kylie mentally shook it off. None of the attraction was real. He was a flippin’ Texas Ranger and not the good-looking handyman across the street. He was here with sneaky ulterior motives. She stood, confused by all the emotions making her want to cry.
Not in front of him, though. She would not cry until she was on a bus heading to the airport. No one cared if she cried on the bus.
She carefully balanced the tray on the wooden porch rail and took a step toward the door. “Who was on the call you took and what did they say?”
“Austin PD.”
Her fingers wrapped around the screen door’s handle. “My case never made it to court. They assured me there was a lack of evidence. I have no idea what you’re referring to or why you’re here. So why don’t you just cut to the part where you’ve put my life in danger.”
“Are you aware your father-in-law—”
“Ex-father-in-law.”
“Right. Look, Miss Jorgenson.”
“Wrong