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“Hardly.” He guzzled the amber liquid in the glass.
“Just so you know, I’m here on official business,” she said.
“This is my second—” he counted the glasses on the bar “—third beer.”
“Bob reserved a seat for you in the van.”
“I can handle my liquor.”
Chilled by the air conditioner mounted on the wall next to Tony, she asked, “You want to go somewhere and talk?”
His dark gaze unnerved Lucy. Did he assume she wanted to talk about the past—more specifically their past?
Tony fished his wallet from his pocket, left a ten-dollar bill on the bar then nodded to the door. “Lead the way.”
As soon as they stepped outside, Lucy said, “I haven’t had supper. Let’s head up the road to Vern’s.”
“Leave the van here.” He threw her his truck keys.
Lucy hopped behind the wheel of the black Dodge and adjusted the seat and mirrors then drove toward town. The drive-in was crowded with teenagers but she found a parking spot. When she lowered the windows, the smell of greasy hamburgers and fries filled the cab and her stomach growled.
“That wasn’t very ladylike.” Tony grinned.
“Sorry.”
A young girl with an order pad stopped at the truck. “Welcome to Vern’s. What can I get you?”
“Two cheeseburger baskets with root beers.”
“Be ready in a few minutes.” The waitress dropped off the order at the service window, then chatted with her friends sitting at the patio tables.
“I thought Hector drove the Pony Express van,” Tony said.
“He does, but he’s sick tonight.”
“You should hire a second driver. It’s not safe for a woman—”
“Don’t think you’re saying anything I haven’t heard a million times over from my parents. I know it’s risky, but I don’t do it often.” Before Tony badgered her more, she said, “Tell me about this human-trafficking ring you’re trying to bust.”
“For the past year we’ve been tracking a well-known drug cartel with routes through Arizona. After the first of the year, they switched their cargo from drugs to teenage girls.”
“Why?”
“Prostitution is a lucrative business, and from a cost perspective, the gang spends less money transporting humans across the border than growing and processing weed.”
“And you’re sure the gang is cutting through our ranch?”
“Yep.”
“That doesn’t make me feel very safe.”
“You shouldn’t feel safe. There’s no telling what these guys will do if they feel threatened or cornered.” Tony cleared his throat. “I want to set up a sting operation on your property. Put a couple of lookouts in the desert so we can mark their trail and get close enough to identify individual members of the gang.”
“Here you go.” The young girl arrived with their food and Tony got out his wallet.
“My treat,” Lucy said. She handed the girl a twenty. “Keep the change.”
“Thanks for the burger.” He devoured it in five bites.
“You must be hungry,” she said.
“I don’t know why. I had dinner at my mom’s tonight.”
Lucy hadn’t seen Maria Bravo in a long time. “I should visit her at the truck stop when I’m out that way.”
“She’d like that.”
“What did you think of Shannon Douglas last week?”
“She’s impressive.” Tony dug into his French fries. “Have you seen her compete before?”
“Last weekend was the first time.”
“I competed in the Canyon City Rodeo last summer, and after watching Shannon and her lady friends, I couldn’t figure out if the women were stupid or really brave.”
“Shannon’s got a lot of talent.”
“I won’t argue with that. She’s been a tomboy all her life, but the others—” He shook his head. “They looked like you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“They’re the kind of girls who enter beauty pageants not rodeos.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Lucy’s pulse raced when Tony’s gaze momentarily dropped to her breasts.
“You’re as beautiful as I remember.”
Feeling short of breath, she said, “You’re a chauvinist, Tony Bravo. Just because a girl is pretty doesn’t mean she can’t be tough, too.”
“Hey, I’m all for women’s rights. I work with female border patrol agents and they handle the job as well as, if not better than the male agents. But bull riding is best left to men.”
If Shannon called with good news soon, Tony’s opinion would be put to the test, because Lucy intended to ask for his help in preparing for the rodeos. There was no sense bringing up the subject now and giving him an opportunity to talk her out of it.
“I was surprised you stayed in Stagecoach after you graduated,” Tony said, changing the subject.
“Really? Why?”
“Memories.” Tony balled up his burger wrapper. “I’ve been trying to get out of this place for a long time.”
Lucy wanted to ask if Tony was on the run from the memories of their brief affair or Michael’s death. She, on the other hand, preferred to smother herself in the memories. “My father said you put in for a job transfer to San Diego.”
“I’m ready for a new challenge.”
That was a bald-faced lie. Tony had told her plenty of times how much he loved Arizona, and that when he stopped rodeoing he intended to become a border patrol agent so he could stay put. Lucy’s heart ached that her mistake was forcing him to leave the home he loved. If she confessed that she was the reason Michael had driven home drunk from the bar, would Tony change his mind about leaving?
The truth won’t bring Michael back.
The thought made Lucy feel even guiltier.
“If we’re successful in shutting down this human-trafficking ring, I’m positive I’ll get my transfer.”
“I doubt your mother is happy about you transferring.”
“At least I’m not moving across the country.” He waved a hand. “Forget about my job. I want to know why you’re driving wasted cowboys home. Don’t you want to do something worthwhile with your business degree?”
She was doing something worthwhile—saving lives. But how many lives would she have to save to make up for Michael’s? “For now, I’m content running my nonprofit business.” Until she found the courage to come clean with her parents about the circumstances surrounding Michael’s death, Lucy didn’t have a whole lot of options.
“Have you ever been threatened by a passenger?”
Although she’d never admit it, there had been one passenger last year who’d made her keep her pepper spray close at hand. After that night she’d informed the bar managers where she was taking the cowboys. If she suddenly disappeared from the face of the earth, the sheriff could ask a few questions and figure out her route. “Most cowboys are decent, God-fearing men who treat women with respect, whether they’re drunk or not.”
“That may be true, but a girl like you—” Tony leaned closer and his masculine scent went straight to Lucy’s head “—would test any cowboy’s morals and values.”
Chapter Three
Was he nuts?
Tony had no business kissing Lucy, but he did anyway. Emboldened by her soft moan, he thrust his tongue inside her mouth, her sweet taste reminding him of the nights they’d shared on the rodeo circuit. His body shook with need, memories fueling his desire.
On the verge of losing control, he ended the kiss—or tried to. Lucy’s mouth followed his when he pulled away, their ragged breathing filling the truck cab. Damn. The joke was on him. He’d kissed Lucy because he’d been trying to make a point about her safety, but the sizzling chemistry between them proved that two years of trying to put this woman behind him had been in vain. He’d better keep his guard up, or she’d make him forget his reasons for leaving Stagecoach.
Lucy pressed her fingertips to her lips and mumbled, “What did you do that for?”
“Do you want me to apologize?”
“Do you want to apologize?”
“Not really,” Tony said.
A woman like Lucy came along once in a man’s lifetime, and he’d blown his shot with her. Who was he kidding? Even if they had gone through with their plan to tell their parents about their relationship, Cal Durango would have made Tony’s life miserable until he’d broken up with Lucy. No way would the wealthy, prominent businessman have allowed Tony anywhere near his daughter.
“Tony.”
“What?”
“I’m still mad at you.”
“For what?”
“For ignoring me after Michael died.”
Tony tensed. He didn’t want to discuss this.
“Why didn’t you return my calls after his funeral?” she asked.
“I wasn’t in the right frame of mind.”
“Okay. I’ll buy that, but we were all grieving, Tony, and I really needed you.”
“I’m sorry.” The walls were closing in on him. “I couldn’t be with anyone.”
“I thought what we’d shared meant something to you.”
The wounded look on Lucy’s face squeezed his heart, but he remained silent. There wasn’t anything he could say in his defense.
“I felt so alone,” she said.
Not as alone as he had felt after he’d been banned from Michael’s funeral service. He’d gotten the message loud and clear—now that Michael was gone, Cal Durango had no use for Tony. In truth, he might have found the nerve to stand up to Durango and insist he was good enough for Lucy, but he didn’t have the right to after he’d ditched Michael in the bar. That decision had sealed Tony’s fate and convinced him that the best thing to do was to keep his distance from Lucy.
Unable to stop himself, Tony tucked a strand of blond hair behind Lucy’s ear. Maybe fate had brought them together again so he could apologize for Michael’s death—not that he expected an apology to absolve him of his sins. “I’m sorry, Lucy. Sorry Michael died.” Sorry things ended the way they did between us.
“Michael’s death still doesn’t feel real to me.”
Memories hurled Tony back in time. Lucy had phoned at 4:00 a.m. with the devastating news that her brother’s vehicle had run off the road and he’d been pronounced dead at the scene. Lucy had told him not to bother driving out to the crash, because medics had already taken Michael’s body to the hospital.
Tony hadn’t known what to do. His mother had been working the night shift at the truck stop and he was alone in the trailer. He’d paced the floor, wishing Lucy or Mrs. Durango would insist he mourn with them at the ranch. Not until his mother walked through the door several hours later had Tony broken down. When the day of the funeral arrived, he’d driven to the church, desperate for a final glimpse of his best friend, but Cal Durango had denied him even that.
The pressure building in Tony’s chest crushed his lungs. Forcing the words past his lips, he said, “It was my fault Michael died.”
Lucy sucked in a quiet breath. “It was not your fault, Tony.”
“I shouldn’t have left your brother at the bar.”
“Why did you?” Lucy squeezed his hand.
The truth wasn’t flattering. He’d been angry that Michael’s leap to the top of the standings meant Tony had to sacrifice being with Lucy in order to travel the circuit with Michael as he made a run for the National Finals Rodeo title. Don’t blame Michael. Tony could have quit rodeo but he hadn’t been able to walk away from the deep bond he’d shared with his best friend since childhood.
Tony spit out a lie. “I was tired and I didn’t feel like drinking that night.” He pulled his hand from Lucy’s—he didn’t deserve sympathy or compassion.
Lucy closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of the seat. Tony regretted that the conversation upset her. “If I’d known that Michael intended to drink until he was wasted, I would have stuck it out at the bar with him.” His apology failed to make Tony feel better, which reinforced his belief that he didn’t deserve to be happy after what he’d done or, in this case, hadn’t done to prevent Michael’s death.
A shrill ring startled them. Lucy answered her cell phone. “Pony Express, Lucy speaking.” She tapped the truck horn and the waitress removed the food tray. Lucy put the truck into Reverse and backed out of the spot. “Not a problem. I’ll be there in thirty minutes or less.” She disconnected the call.
“Where to now?”
“Willie’s.”
Willie’s Wet Whistle had been a favorite haunt of Michael’s.
