A Cowboy's Love Part 9

"That's another long story, and I've already chewed your ear off enough. The thing is, you don't meet many lawyers you can like, but Elaine French will be completely straight with you, and if something can be done, she'll tell you what it is. I think you could meet her and see what she can do."

"Will she even talk to me if I can't pay her fee?"

"Elaine's been handling all my legal work for a couple of years now. She'll talk to you if I ask her to. We can worry about the fee later."

We?

Such a small word-and it felt like an alarm bell going off in her head.

All her nerve ends went on alert.

She was scared, but knew she shouldn't back away from this tiny turn in her luck. She took a mental deep breath and kept her voice as steady as she could.

"Maybe I could take off some time from work. I think Gordie wouldn't mind, and I could drive up to Salt Lake on Monday. If you give me Elaine French's number, I'll give her a call when I get there."

"Sure thing. Only, you don't need to do that. I'll call her. And you're not going to drive up alone. I'm going to take you up in the truck."

"I can't let you do that. It's at least five hours each way, and it could be a couple of days." A bundle of mixed emotions tossed around inside her-she was grateful, wary, embarra.s.sed, comforted-both excited and frightened by the thought of a few days alone with this man she barely knew.

What am I doing?

"Why, shoot, Jamie, that's nothing. Harvey can spare me off the ranch for a while and as for the drive, why h.e.l.l, I've been driving all over the country, from coast to coast, for the last seven, eight years. You think a little bitty ride up to Salt Lake is a long haul for me? Anyway, that old car of yours would never make it. Could be something else will conk out again, and I can't let some other cowboy come along to give you a hand." His face creased into a big grin. "Why shoot, ma'am, that's my job. So I'll just pick you up Monday morning early. We'll give Elaine a call on the way, let her know we're coming."

"I don't know what to say. I don't know why you're helping me like this."

She was turned toward him, letting herself explore his face, his eyes, openly. There was a long silence between them. Then he spoke. "Sure you do, Jamie."

Suddenly, everything was still. It seemed the very leaves on the trees were holding their breath, and the gra.s.ses paused in their gentle motion. Cal made not even the slightest move toward her, and yet all Jamie's defenses were on a hair trigger.

Of course she knew. All her attention was locked on this quiet-talking, easy-moving man, while her emotions flew every which way.

He leaned, just the tiniest bit, closer to her. Her eyes were locked on his.

A sharp, sweet heat tightened her throat and spread through her whole body. Everything, the stilled trees, the ancient stones, the valley below them, seemed to spin away and she was lost, somewhere in the endless, cloudless sky. His hunger for her was palpable and it terrified her.

In that moment, Jamie panicked. All her familiar fears and inhibitions flooded through her and her defenses sprang into their accustomed place with a terrible force. She was instantly rigid, her heart froze.

What am I going to do! Oh, G.o.d! What am I going to do!

For a long, long, minute neither of them moved. Cal had seen the terror in her eyes, seen the anger and denial that chilled their brilliance. He saw her lips shut tight and she looked ready to fight. He waited as long as he could, the struggle inside him keeping him immobile until he accepted that she would not let him come closer. He held himself in check. It was like braking a runaway locomotive, but he willed himself not to ruin everything.

When he felt he could speak safely, without making a fool of himself, he managed to whisper hoa.r.s.ely. "Let's go, Jamie. I'll take you back to your house now."

They were magic words, and they broke the spell. Jamie's panic gradually eased up. Relief replaced the tension that had stiffened her muscles.

Cal stood up and held out a hand to help her.

"Elaine will want to see all your papers," he said, returning to a neutral subject, giving her time-and s.p.a.ce-to recover her sense of safety. "Your divorce decree and all that stuff. Any notes you have. And I'll fill her in when I call her. She'll have plenty of questions. You need to prepare, think through everything she might want to know."

They walked to the truck, he held the door for her, she climbed in, and they drove down the canyon silently. She'd seen how painfully he'd walked, and when they got to her house, she said, "Don't get out. You need to rest that knee." She got out and came around to his side. She put a hand on the edge of the window.

"I'll need to talk to Gordon," she said. "If I don't get him tonight, I'll have to catch him before church in the morning."

"Okay. And I'll let Harv and Ellie know I'll be away for a few days."

"Okay."

Then she did something that astonished them both. To her own amazement, she stepped up onto the running board, leaned in, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. He reached for her, knocking his hat off against the window frame, but she was already running toward the darkened house.

"All right!" He was grinning broadly as he retrieved his hat and set it firmly back on his head, where it belonged. He watched her go into the house, saw a light go on inside, knew she was home safe.

"All right." This time it was a whisper.

Chapter Eight.

LaRaine Callister had the kids loaded into the big van and was strapping the next littlest into a car seat just as Jamie pulled up in front of the house. Young Gordie was holding the baby, waiting for her to come around to the other side to get the baby settled into his seat. And Gordon Callister, wearing his best white Stetson and his Sunday morning tie and jacket, could be seen just inside the front door, talking on his cell phone. Jamie got out of her car and waved at Gordon, glad to have caught him before he left for church.

He pointed to the phone in his hand, signaling her to wait, so she stopped at the van in the driveway and ducked her head inside, waving a brief greeting to the pa.s.sengers.

"Morning, LaRaine." Then to all the kids, "Hey, you guys." A whole field of sandy-haired, gray-eyed Callisters waved back at her. "Sorry to hold you up, LaRaine. I see Gordie's busy on the phone. I just need to talk to him for a minute."

"No problem, Jamie. Gordie had to make some calls before we left but he must be about finished now. Something's up at the Henson ranch and we'll have to wait a minute while he takes care of it, so you just take your time. They're not going to start services without him."

Even as she spoke, Gordon came out onto the porch and Jamie ran up to join him just as he was closing the front door behind him.

"Morning, Gordon. LaRaine says there's been some trouble."

"Yep." He looked serious. "Cougar's taken another calf, down at Lou Henson's this time. Took him right out of that little pasture Lou has just back of his house. His sick bay' where he keeps any livestock needs doctoring. He's real upset. His kids play out there and the cat's tracks are all over the place, even in the yard up by the children's swing set. Must be a real big one, judging by the prints he left, and he doesn't seem to be afraid of anything, coming right up to the house like that."

"Do they think it's the same one got Al Wideman's calf the other night?"

"No question about it. Same big tracks, same nerve, coming so close to folks' homes."

Jamie thought of the cougar she and Cal had seen, beautiful and bold in the moonlight, and for a moment she thought of keeping silent, as though that big cat was part of a secret that ought to be kept.

"I'll bet it's the same one I saw the other night, in the canyon up by my place," she said at last. "Huge animal, looked like he could take down a grown horse, easy."

"Up by your place?" Gordon shook his head incredulously. "Might just be. If so, he sure is getting around. I don't like it, a big cougar like that, doing his hunting where folks live."

"Are you going after him?"

Gordon seemed preoccupied. He took his hat off and rotated it a few times, staring at it as though it were a crystal ball.

"Well, I hate to do it on a Sunday, but we've got to start tracking him soon. I've been calling around to get some of the men together this afternoon."

He remained thoughtful for a minute. Then, as though he'd finished one piece of business and was ready to start on the next, he put the hat firmly in place on his head and smiled at Jamie, focusing all his attention on her.

"So, Jamie. What's up? What can I do for you?"

Jamie did a quick s.h.i.+ft, forgetting the cougar and remembering what brought her here. "I know it's short notice, Gordie, and I'm real sorry, but I'm going to need to take a couple of days off. Tomorrow and Tuesday at least."

Gordon seemed to forget right there that eight people were still waiting for him and that services were supposed to be starting soon He frowned as he pushed his hat toward the back of his head, and peered closely at her.

"What's the matter, Jamie? You're not sick are you?"

"No, Gordie. It's nothing like that." If only it could be something so easy. "It's personal stuff. I've got to go up to Salt Lake for a couple of days. Something just came up, and I wanted to let you know right away. That's why I came by so early. I wanted to catch you before you left for church."

"Well, Jamie, I surely do appreciate that." He pursed his lips, calculating his possible moves. "Sunday morning, might be a little tough finding a replacement." He thought for a moment. "I'll call Craig La.r.s.en over in Flintlock. He's just finished a job up by Delta and if he hasn't signed up for something else right away, he might could send someone over to fill in for you. Two days?"

"Two days. I expect to make it back by Tuesday night, late."

Gordon waved to LaRaine to wait some more. He pulled out his phone and started dialing.

"I'm real sorry to keep you, Gordie. I know you need to get to church."

"LaRaine's used to it," he said as he waited for Craig to pick up.

"In this family, it's always something. Not one thing, it's another."

Craig must have answered just then because Gordon turned away, toward the house, and worked it out for Craig to send a man over to Sharperville for a couple of days. Before he was finished, he turned back again to Jamie.

"It's okay, Jamie, honey. We'll manage it, somehow. You go on up to Salt Lake and take care of whatever have to and I'll expect you back on the job Wednesday morning."

"You're a peach, Gordie. I surely do appreciate this."

"No problem, Jamie. You just take care, you hear?"

Jamie turned to head back to her car. Then paused.

"About that cougar," she called back to him, "the one I saw had black ears. Black tufts up at the points of his ears."

"Thanks," he said. "I'll remember that. And Jamie, do me a favor, honey, and tell LaRaine I'll be there in a minute, soon as I take care of this."

"You betcha."

She stopped one more time at the van and delivered Gordon's message.

"That man! You'd think just once in his life he could get somewhere without any interruptions!"

Jamie didn't wait to hear all about it. She wished them all a good day, and hurried to her car. Things were moving smoothly now. The first piece of the plan was taken care of, and now they could get on with the rest.

Chapter Nine.

The offices of Larrabee, Slaughter, and French took up the whole ninth floor-the top floor-of the Stilton Building in Salt Lake City. A lot of money had been spent by the firm to make their offices the most impressive in the city, and the Stilton Building had been selected because it was a turn-of-the-century masterpiece, built when the territory was just beginning to flex its muscles as a newly admitted state. The original blueprints had been located in the architect's archives back east and were used to make accurate restorations of the plaster moldings, the fine old woodwork and the elegant bra.s.ses. The original marble, quarried from the nearby mountains for the lobby's floor and staircase, had been scrupulously matched upstairs for the firm's entryway, its fireplaces, and even in its bathrooms. The bra.s.s fixtures matched their lobby counterparts that after more than a hundred years wore a fine glow of age and dignity. Every detail had been designed to impress the firm's clients-and their adversaries-with the old-fas.h.i.+oned western elegance and solid conservatism of the Stilton Building and its premier tenant, the law firm.

And impressed, indeed, was Jamie, who had never before traveled beyond the red-rock country around Sharperville, except for that quickie elopement in Nevada. She'd never been to Salt Lake, she'd never seen a big city except on TV, and she'd never seen the traffic, the urban pace, the ma.s.ses of people.

And she'd never been in an elevator. She felt very sophisticated as she entered the stately old machine that carried them with unhurried dignity up to the ninth floor. Both the start and the stop, though not abrupt, did surprising things to her stomach, making her eyes open wide in nervous surprise.

They stepped out into a reception area, where cream-hued marble, deep carpets, and wood paneling were meant to intimidate and impress-and that's just the effect they had on Jamie.

"Jeez," she whispered to Cal. "Some difference from Almon Reed's dumpy little place down in Flintlock!"

A coolly pleasant receptionist, in business suit and high-heeled pumps, was sitting at a leather-topped writing table. She took their names and pointed to the leather couch.

"Ms. French is in a meeting just now, but she's expecting you. She'll be with you in about ten minutes. Would you like some coffee while you're waiting? Or a cup of tea?"

"Coffee's fine for me," Cal said. "Jamie?"

"Sure. Coffee. Thanks."

The receptionist left the room and returned with a small tray bearing cups and saucers and a silver coffee service. Jamie's taste for ladylike things was touched by this deliberate display and she tried to look comfortable though she was suddenly aware of her Sketchers and her jeans and her plain blue cotton s.h.i.+rt.

She and Cal drank their coffee silently, leafing through the magazines on the table in front of them, until the intercom on the receptionist's desk buzzed. The girl pushed a b.u.t.ton, listened briefly to the crackling message, and then looked up at them.

"Ms. French is out of her meeting now," she said. "She'll be right with you."

And only a minute later they heard a woman's voice, sharp, high-pitched, and fast-talking.

"Cal Cameron! It's good to see you here in town."

Jamie looked up from her magazine and saw a tall woman, dark hair peppered with gray, coming toward them through the reception area. The woman moved quickly, as though time was money, but she was smiling genially, and she approached Cal with her hand reached out in greeting.

"And this must be the friend you called about."

"Yes, ma'am. I'd like you to meet Jamie Sundstrom."

Cowboys so seldom take off their hats. But now Cal removed his and Jamie realized she'd hardly ever seen him without it. His hair, black and wavy, caught the eyes of both women.

"And Jamie, this is my lawyer, Elaine French. Elaine is the fastest legal gun in the West."

The two women shook hands and each did a quick, wordless appraisal of the other.

Jamie noted the perfectly tailored suit, a dusky rose linen, and the filmy, pale rose blouse cut in a deep vee, just lining the opening of Elaine's suit jacket. Women didn't dress that way in ranch country, and Jamie was seeing, for the first time in real life, a style she'd known only on television. Elaine was wearing jewelry-big chunks of gold at her ears and around her wrist-that looked expensive and, Jamie figured, probably was expensive. Her manner was all quick, informal ease and extraordinary confidence. Jamie liked her right away.

"Come on into my office." Elaine started quickly out of the reception area. "Cynthia," she added over her shoulder as she strode past the writing table, "if Mack Brundage from Jenner and Brand calls, you can tell him those transcripts will be delivered whenever I get around to them and not a minute sooner."