The Ranger And The Widow Woman Page 3

  Violet didn’t know what was the matter with her. Men were not on her Want list. As far as she was concerned, she never wanted to look at another man. Especially one who considered her too silly to get out of the rain, as this one seemed to. And he wasn’t being the least bit inviting. So why was he striking a nerve in her?

  Questions about the man were still nagging her when the outskirts of Ruidoso appeared ahead of them. The unexpected beauty of the town caught her attention, and for the next few minutes she pushed Charlie to the back of her mind and enjoyed the landscape flying by the pickup window.

  Violet hadn’t expected mountains to suddenly spring out of the desert. Especially mountains covered with tall, thick pine and cottonwood. The town itself was a blending of old and new. The shops and boutiques nestled along the winding streets appeared to cater to everyone from the cowboy to the snow skier to the art lover.

  Ruidoso was beautiful, she decided as she breathed in the sharp, clean scent of evergreens. And from the looks of things it was going to be her temporary home for the next few weeks. It wasn’t a thousand miles from Amarillo. But she couldn’t let herself worry about that now. As long as no one back in Texas found her, she and Sam could survive. They were finally on their own, and Violet was determined to keep things that way.

  At the garage Violet informed the mechanic she’d be contacting him in the next day or two to let him know what to do about repairing the motor. Once that was accomplished, she joined Charlie, who was waiting at the back of her vehicle.

  “Does this town have a taxi service?” she asked as she handed him the key to the trunk.

  “I think so.” Without waiting for her reply, he opened the back of the car and motioned toward the bags and suitcases jammed in every crack and crevice of space. “You want everything out of here?”

  Violet couldn’t believe that less than twelve hours ago, she’d loaded the car with their things and driven away from Amarillo, away from the house that had been her home for the past seven years. Already it felt as if she and Sam had been traveling for days.

  “I guess I will need most of them. We’re going to be here for a while. Now what about the taxi?”

  He placed an armload of bags on the ground at their feet, then straightened. If Charlie knew what was good for him he’d let her call a taxi and be done with her. But hellfire, he was already here. And Roy Pardee would never drive off from a stranded woman. In all good conscience, his son couldn’t do it, either.

  “What do you need a taxi for?”

  She studied him with a guarded expression as though she was still trying to weigh the idea of trusting him.

  “We’re going to a motel,” she told him. “And there’s no need for you to bother driving us. We’ve already wasted enough of your time. I’m sure your family will be worrying about you.”

  Charlie’s mouth twisted to a grim line. His parents weren’t worried. As far as they knew he was still on the job in Texas. But he was beginning to worry about himself. It was time to let this woman and child go their own way, but something wouldn’t quite let him.

  “My folks aren’t expecting me. I like to do things that way,” he added when her brows arched with speculation. “You know, surprise them. Either way, Mom always cries when she sees me.”

  How wonderful, Violet thought, to have a family to go to, a mother and father who would always be glad to see you. But she wouldn’t know about those things. Not since her mother had died ten years ago.

  Her father, if he could be called such a thing, was still living back in Georgia. But Leroy Wilson had broken ties with them years ago. He’d wanted a bottle of vodka more than he’d wanted a family.

  Violet glanced at the small watch, strapped to her wrist. Even though the summer sun was still burning high, it was nearing six-thirty in the evening.

  “Well, this isn’t getting either of us anywhere,” she said, reaching into the trunk for more bags.

  Charlie picked up those he’d earlier placed on the ground and carried them over to the bed of his truck.

  “Where are we going now, Charlie?” Sam asked, hanging his head out the window.

  The child had been waiting patiently in the cab of the truck. Charlie knew he had to be getting tired and hungry. But so far he’d been a little trooper. If Violet had been raising the child on her own since her husband died, he had to admit she’d been doing a good job.

  Charlie paused by the open window. “I’m going to take you and your mommy to a motel.”

  Sam’s little round face wrinkled with misgivings. “What’s a motel?”

  The question told Charlie the child had obviously never traveled before. At least not since he was old enough to remember things. “It’s a place where you can rest and sleep.”

  “But I wanna eat,” he quickly pointed out. “I don’t wanna rest.”

  “Sam, don’t argue. We’ll eat as soon as we can,” Violet told him, then to Charlie she asked, “Why are you putting my things in your truck? I told you we’d call a taxi.”

  “Are you always this contrary?” he asked sharply. Then, not allowing her the space of a breath to answer, he ordered, “Just get in the truck and I’ll take you.”

  His demanding attitude would have normally infuriated Violet. But in this case she was more suspicious of the man than anything. A few hours ago he’d never laid eyes on her or her son. Their welfare or misfortune was none of his concern. Moreover, he didn’t appear to be all that pleased to be bothered with them. So why didn’t he go and leave them to their own business?

  She tilted her head back to look at him. And from Violet’s height that was a long way up.

  “Are you one of those people who bring home poor strays you find on the street?” she asked him.

  At one time in his life Charlie had been that sort of man. And it was still his nature to help people. Until they wronged him. Then he could be as mean as a diamondback rattlesnake.

  “The things I pick up off the street, Violet, I usually take to jail. You don’t want to go there, do you?”

  She supposed the cynical twist to his lips was supposed to be a smile. But Violet wasn’t particularly warmed by it or his sarcastic brand of humor. It was too close to her fears to be funny.

  “Not really,” she answered tartly, then added, “I get the idea you’d rather be doing anything than what you’re doing now, Charlie Pardee. I don’t understand why you’ve taken my problem upon yourself.”

  He didn’t understand it, either. But ever since the Lup6 Valdez case, Charlie had not been himself. He felt constantly obliged to help and protect anyone and everyone. Even those that weren’t his responsibility. He knew it was an impossible task, and he knew he was killing himself trying, but he couldn’t make himself stop. Having Violet and Sam with him now was proof of that.

  “For Pete’s sake, I’m not making myself your social worker!” he said crossly. “I’m just going to drive you down the street. If you want to feel beholden to me for the rest of your life go ahead, I won’t mind.”

  “You’re making fun of me now.”

  He sighed and tried to shake away the frustration that was making him bite at this woman. “Not for anything would I do that.”

  For a Texas Ranger he was awfully loose, Violet thought, even brazen. But then maybe that was his style, his way of getting to people. Because he sure was getting to her. And the awful thing about it was he wasn’t even trying.

  “Okay, okay,” she said, lifting her palms in a gesture of helpless surrender. “We’ll accept a ride with you down the street.”

  Five minutes later, sitting behind the wheel of his truck, Charlie watched Violet enter the motel office. Beside him on the bench seat, Sam played with a miniature tractor his mother had fished from a bag in the back of the truck.

  What was she going to do? Charlie asked himself for the hundredth time. Where would she find work, and what would she do with Sam, and what the hell did she mean by heading out on an adventure? On the surface the woman seemed sensib
le enough. In fact, she seemed nothing like a ditzy, half-cocked female just out for laughs and a joy ride.

  Laughs. Charlie wasn’t sure she knew how to laugh. So far he hadn’t so much as seen a smile on her face. But then, to be fair, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d really laughed himself. Perhaps they were birds of the same feather, Charlie decided. They’d both quit singing a long time ago.

  His dark thoughts were suddenly broken by Sam’s wheezy cough. He glanced down at the boy. “Are you getting sick, little guy?”

  Sam shook his head. “Nope. I just have asthma sometimes. Mommy says it’s those damn cattle pens that give it to me.”

  Charlie’s lips twitched at Sam’s innocent use of his mother’s curse word. “Is that so? Did you live on a ranch?”

  His nose wrinkled as he considered Charlie’s question. “No. It wasn’t a ranch. We lived with my grandpa in his house. And there’s a stockyard down the road. But we’re not gonna live there anymore. Mommy says there’s a better place for us to live and there is, ’cause she’s always right.”

  Her son had asthma, and she was looking for a better place for the two of them to live. Charlie supposed those two things weren’t earth-shaking problems. But they were to someone with not even enough money to get their vehicle repaired.

  But she and the boy weren’t his problem, Charlie quickly reminded himself. No way, no how. He’d never laid eyes on the woman before today, and in a few more minutes he’d never see her again.

  Anyway, she wasn’t exactly poor or homeless, Charlie continued to argue with himself. Her clothes and the make of her car told him that much. More than likely, if she had problems, they were of her own making. She could find that better place for her and her son to live all by herself. She didn’t need Charlie Pardee’s help. And who the hell said he could help her, anyway? he asked himself bitterly. He hadn’t been able to help Lupé.

  The grim thought set off a buzz in his head as he watched her pay the man behind the counter several bills. If he’d only kept Lupé out of that motel. If he’d only taken her home with him instead of leaving her there that night. But like Violet, she’d been insistent that she could take care of herself.

  The buzzing quickly turned to a roar, and the next thing Charlie knew he was inside the office, grabbing Violet by the arm.

  “Get your money back,” he ordered in a dangerously soft voice. “You’re coming with me.”

  Her eyes wide with shock, Violet attempted to jerk loose from his hold. “What are you doing? I’m not going with you!”

  “Yes, you are.” He turned a cutting look on the man behind the counter. “Give her the money back. She’s not staying here tonight.”

  The large man rocked back on his heels and eyed Charlie with a mocking smirk. “Look, mister, I don’t want to get involved with your domestic quarrel. If you want to take the little lady home, take her. But the policy of this motel is no refunds.”

  Violet’s mouth fell open as her eyes darted from one man to the other. “I’m not going anywhere but to the room I just rented!” she practically shouted at the two of them.

  Ignoring her, Charlie pulled out his badge and flashed it to the proprietor. With eyes like steel and a voice to match, he said, “I’m changing your policy this time. Now give her the money!”

  His feathers dampened by the prospect of tangling with a Ranger, the man counted the refund back onto the counter. Charlie snatched up the bills and pushed them into an open pocket on Violet’s purse.

  Because she didn’t have much choice, she allowed him to lead her outside, but once they reached his pickup truck, Violet dug in her heels and refused to go any further.

  “Okay, Ranger Pardee, what was that all about?” she asked, her rising voice quivering with anger. “You just made a mess of everything! Now what am I going to do?”

  He glanced down at her reddened cheeks and flashing green eyes. Even in her agitated state, she was the prettiest woman Charlie could ever remember seeing. But he told himself that had nothing to do with what he was about to say next. “Don’t worry about it, Violet. You’re coming home with me.”

  Charlie didn’t know what in hell had come over him. He was supposed to be on vacation. The next four weeks were his and his alone, to rest, sleep and eat whenever he wanted, to do absolutely nothing or whatever he felt like doing, whenever the urge struck him. He hadn’t come back to New Mexico to wet-nurse a young woman and child!

  Even now as Charlie drove east toward Hondo, he couldn’t believe Violet and Sam were still with him. He didn’t know how it had happened. One minute he’d been watching her pay a man for a motel room and the next he’d had her by the arm pushing her into his pickup.

  Maybe his captain had been right a week ago when he’d said, “You need a long rest, Charlie. You’re drained.” For eighteen months Charlie had worked without a break, and nearly six months of that time had been spent on one intricate murder case involving a young Mexican woman. For a long time Charlie had tried to deny that the tragedy of Lupé Valdez had not affected him that deeply. He didn’t want to believe her death had changed him. But now he wasn’t so sure. He didn’t take women he knew home with him. And especially home to the Pardee Ranch! What in hell was he going to do with her?

  Violet shifted Sam’s head to a more-comfortable position against her thigh and brushed his sweat-dampened hair away from his forehead. As soon as the Ranger had put the pickup truck back on the highway, her son had fallen into an exhausted sleep, and she felt very guilty because her plans had gone so awry. If the car hadn’t broken down, the two of them would have been in Las Cruces by now, having a good hot meal and looking forward to a quiet night in a nice motel room. Instead she was driving to God-only-knew where with a man she’d met only a few hours ago. A Texas Ranger to boot!

  Violet honestly wondered if the strain of the past months had finally broken her. Maybe losing Brent, then dealing with Rex had warped her ability to think sensibly. She couldn’t think of any other reason why she would be putting herself and her son in the hands of a total stranger!

  But there was something about Charlie Pardee, something beyond his muscles and stern demeanor that made Violet feel safe with him. He exuded confidence and self-assurance. He was a man who could take care of himself... and a woman, too, if the situation warranted it. So why did Violet get the shivers every time she looked at him? Why did she feel like she was headed to a lion’s den, rather than a Ranger’s haven?

  “I haven’t been to my cabin in over a year. I’m not sure what kind of condition it will be in. You should stay with my parents tonight,” Charlie suggested a second time. “They have plenty of room. And if Dad being the sheriff is intimidating you, don’t let it. Both my parents are hospitable people.”

  “I’m sure your parents are very nice. But I wouldn’t feel right about imposing on them. I’m not even sure why I allowed you to bring Sam and me out here with you. I really think I’m losing my mind,” she mumbled, then let out a small sigh.

  Charlie could have voiced the same thing about himself, but he didn’t. Instead, he glanced at her, then decided to voice the question uppermost in his thoughts. “Are you...having problems, Violet?”

  Her head jerked up and her eyes found his profile in the waning light. “Problems? Of course I’m having problems! My car needs repairing, and I don’t have the extra money to have it done.”

  His features hardened at her flip answer. “I wasn’t referring to your car. I’m talking about...other things.”

  Violet’s heart slowed to a fearful crawl. “What makes you ask something like that?”

  His eyes still on the highway, he said curtly, “It’s my job to know when things aren’t exactly as they appear on the surface.”

  He didn’t know about her surface beforehand or now. And he sure as heck wasn’t going to find out what was underneath, Violet thought.

  “Just because my vehicle broke down doesn’t mean I’m a candidate for the psychiatrist’s couch or a...jail cell.�
��

  “Defensive little thing, aren’t you?” he countered.

  Unconsciously her chin jutted forward. “Do you think if I really needed to spill my guts, it would be to a Texas Ranger?”

  “I am off duty,” he drawled mockingly.

  What would it be like, Violet wondered, to tell someone, anyone, all the fears, pressures and anger she’d lived with for so long now? She couldn’t imagine the relief it might be to lay her head on Charlie Pardee’s broad chest and pour it all out to him.

  But Violet wasn’t naive. She didn’t have to be told that Charlie was never “off” duty. And the fear of Rex finding her through any remote channel would keep Violet’s lips sealed forever. All that she’d left behind in Amarillo she would carry deep inside her, hold it to her and hope it had finally come to an end.

  “Thanks for the offer of your ear, Charlie,” she said as casually as she could manage. “But I wouldn’t want to bore you.”

  A brief glance told him her face was as closed as her words. The suspicion she was hiding something should have warned him to turn the truck around and head back to Ruidoso. But Charlie wasn’t known for always doing the sensible or right thing.

  “Sam told me he had asthma.”

  She nodded. “Thankfully, it’s only an occasional thing. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to move from where we lived. It was very dusty and windy there. Not a good environment for a person with asthma.”

  Dusty and windy. In Texas that could mean anywhere east of the Brazos or as far north as Canada.

  “He said his father had gone to heaven. Is that true?”

  Violet wasn’t at all sure Brent was wearing a halo. During the seven years she’d known him he’d turned from the loving man she’d first married to a stranger, someone she no longer wanted to know. But for Sam’s sake she’d tried to soften the loss by assuring the child his father was with the angels.