Legally Binding Page 12

  Warmth curled through her. It must have been so hard for him, facing his father’s illness alone, facing his mother’s death alone. She was glad she could offer some comfort. Some support. Pulling in a deep breath, Bart looked back to the doctor. “How is he?”

  “He’s doing amazingly well under the circumstances.”

  “When can he come home?”

  The doctor held up a hand. “Not so fast. I said he was doing well under the circumstances, not that he was ready to go back to life as usual.”

  Bart tensed. “Spit it out, Doc.”

  “He needs to stay here for a while. Maybe a few days. After that, I suggest he goes to a rehabilitation center. He’s going to need around-the-clock skilled care for a while.”

  Hospital. Rehabilitation center. Skilled care. Lindsey’s head spun at the possible implications. Bart’s father was in worse shape than she’d realized.

  Beside her, Bart clenched his teeth. “Whatever my daddy needs to get better, he’ll get.” His voice was clipped, harsh, as if he was having trouble controlling his anger. Anger no doubt directed at the person who was responsible for his father’s condition.

  “We should know more in the next couple days,” the doctor said.

  “Can Bart see him?” Lindsey asked. “Before we leave?”

  “Certainly.”

  “And Doc?” Bart said. “No one is allowed in my daddy’s room besides the two of us and any medical staff that needs to see him. No one. Not friends and certainly not family. I’ve called an outside security firm to watch over him. They should be here within the hour.”

  The doctor hesitated for a moment and then nodded. “Whatever you wish, Mr. Rawlins.” After exchanging thank-yous and goodbyes, the doctor left.

  Once they were alone, Lindsey looked up at Bart, searching his eyes. She could feel anger pulsing off him in waves. Anger born from worry for his father and frustration at not having been able to protect him. But even though she understood where his anger was coming from, it concerned her just the same. “We’ll find out who did this, Bart. And we’ll make sure your father isn’t hurt again.”

  Bart gave a sharp nod. “Damn straight we will. But before anything else happens, I need to talk to the sheriff first, and then Don Church.”

  “Don Church? About Jeb’s will?”

  “About changing my own.”

  “LINDSEY, BART, where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach both of you since yesterday.”

  Bart and Lindsey strode past Nancy Wilks and straight down the hall to Don’s office. There was no time to stop and chat. He had to see Don. Kenny or Beatrice or whoever the hell was behind what had happened to his dad weren’t going to get away with what they’d done. Not if he had anything to say about it. And although things weren’t as clear-cut as they’d seemed when Kenny appeared to be the only one who would profit by Jeb’s death, Bart’s money was still on his cousin. Money he was going to make damn sure Kenny never got his hands on.

  Beside him, Lindsey glanced at Nancy as she walked. “Nancy, we need to see Don,” she explained. “It’s urgent.”

  “You need to listen to your voice mail. The grand jury came back with a true bill. Bart’s arraignment is scheduled for tomorrow.”

  Bart nearly stumbled. He knew the chances were nearly one hundred percent that the grand jury would vote to indict. Lindsey had explained to him that a grand jury rarely acted as more than a rubber stamp for the prosecution. And in Bart’s case, the district attorney had far too much evidence for any grand jury to ignore, even if they wanted to.

  Lindsey gave him a worried glance but kept on walking. They rounded the corner and reached Don’s office. The door stood open. No one was inside.

  Lindsey whirled to face Nancy. “Where’s Don?”

  “Paul’s office.”

  Lindsey met Bart’s eyes, and the two of them started back in the direction of Paul’s office.

  “Wait!” Nancy scampered to keep up with them, her breath labored. “Paul and Don are in a meeting.”

  They reached Paul’s closed door. Lindsey planted her feet in the hallway. “So we’ll wait. We need to talk to Don right away.”

  “Suit yourself.” Nancy eyed Lindsey and bobbed her head. “What happened to you?”

  Lindsey looked down at her wrinkled suit and nearly shredded stockings as if she hadn’t realized how she looked until this minute.

  Bart cringed. In his urgency to find out who was responsible for his father’s condition, he’d forgotten they’d spent the past twenty-four hours searching through mesquite in a thunderstorm and hiking halfway across Texas. “I’m sorry, Lindsey. I didn’t even think of giving you a chance to clean up. Do you want to stop back at the ranch before we talk to Don?”

  She smoothed a hand over her hair and raised her chin, a dignified expression gracing her face. “This is more important than appearances.”

  Just as he opened his mouth to tell her she didn’t have to worry about appearances, that she always looked great, the mahogany door swung wide and Paul Lambert stood in the doorway.

  Surprise registered in his face. His gaze traveled from Lindsey’s drip-dried hair to the mud clinging to Bart’s boots. “Lindsey, Bart, what happened?”

  “We need to talk to Don,” Lindsey said.

  A young man, his hair the color of coffee with too much cream, stepped up beside Paul and leveled beaming brown eyes on Lindsey.

  The surprised look still on Paul’s face, he glanced at his client. “Roger Rosales, I’d like you to meet Bart Rawlins and Lindsey Wellington.”

  Rosales gave them a practiced smile. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Lindsey is a lawyer here at the firm and Bart is one of our best clients,” Paul continued.

  Ignoring Bart, Rosales horned in on Lindsey. “Wellington. Not one of the Boston Wellingtons?”

  Lindsey nodded stiffly. “How do you know my family, Mr. Rosales?”

  “It’s Roger. My company has holdings in the Boston area.”

  “Your company?”

  “Ranger Corporation. I’m in charge of regional development, so I’m based in this area. But I have occasion to travel to Boston.”

  Bart had heard of Ranger Corporation. Who hadn’t? The company was huge, with its fingers in pies all over the world.

  Lindsey looked down at her wrinkled suit. A flush of embarrassment stained her cheeks. “Please excuse my appearance. It’s been a tough day.”

  “I hope it improves.”

  “So do I.” She glanced past Rosales and Paul to where Don stood in the back of the office. “It was nice meeting you.”

  “Thank you. Meeting you has been an unexpected perk.” He gave her a beaming grin.

  Bart stiffened. He didn’t like Roger Rosales, and it wasn’t hard to figure out why. The man was too good-looking, too charming, and the interest in his eyes when he looked at Lindsey made Bart want to clock him.

  “Paul, Don…” Roger said. “I trust you’ll get in touch with me.”

  Paul stuck out his hand and shook Roger’s. “We sure will.” Don gave a wave and a nod from across the room. As soon as the Ranger Corporation executive disappeared down the hall, Paul zeroed in on Lindsey. “Okay, what happened?” His voice was sharp with obvious concern.

  Bart stepped closer to Lindsey. “Someone tried to kill us and my daddy. We’re here to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  “Tried to kill you?” Paul looked to Nancy, still hovering behind Bart and Lindsey. “Call Ben.”

  Bart turned to Nancy and held up a hand. “We already talked to him at the hospital.”

  “Hospital?” Paul repeated.

  “My daddy is in rough shape.”

  “I’m sorry. I hope he’ll be okay.”

  Joining them at the door, Don added his concern to Paul’s. “So how can we help?”

  “I need to change my will.”

  “What would changing your will…” Don trailed off, understanding dawning on his face. “You think Kenny did t
his. That he tried to kill you and your father so he can inherit both the Bar JR and the Four Aces.”

  “Damn straight. And the best way to keep that from happening is changing my will and my daddy’s will so the son of a bitch won’t get a single square foot of land.”

  Don nodded. “We can do that. Since you hold power of attorney, it won’t be a problem. We’ll set up a trust for your father, and stipulate that upon his death the holdings go to charity or wherever you’d like. Are you still planning to sell the Four Aces if…”

  Bart let out a breath. Don didn’t have to say the word convicted for Bart to know what he was getting at. “I suppose I am. I don’t have much of a choice.”

  Don turned to Paul. “Do you want to make sure the paperwork is ready, just in case?”

  Lindsey shook her head adamantly. “We won’t have to go that far. Bart isn’t going to be convicted.” She stood with her chin raised, her spine straight as a fence post and the fire of an avenging angel burning in her eyes. Like she was ready to fight by his side to the end.

  An uneasy feeling niggled at the back of his mind.

  “You’re right, Lindsey. He won’t have to worry about selling the ranch. He’s going to be acquitted,” Paul said. He frowned at Don. “In the meantime, didn’t you have another problem you wanted to discuss with Bart?”

  Another problem. Bart almost cringed. He focused on Don. “What is it?”

  “Someone is contesting Jeb’s will.”

  Now it was Bart’s turn to stare in surprise. “Not Kenny?”

  “No, not Kenny.”

  Of course not. No one who knew the Bar JR’s financial state would want the ranch. No one without a family legacy to protect at any rate. “Then who?”

  Don shifted his feet on the thick carpet, as if he didn’t want to answer.

  “Who, Don?”

  The portly lawyer sighed and looked at the floor. “Beatrice. Beatrice Jensen. She claims she married Jeb twenty years ago.”

  BOOTS THUMPING down the hallway of the ranch house, Bart headed straight for Beatrice’s living quarters, Lindsey right behind him. His dad’s nurse had a heap of explaining to do. He didn’t care that she was contesting Jeb’s will. Even though he’d love to reunite the original Rawlins ranch, he’d never expected to inherit the Bar JR in the first place. But the news that she’d been Jeb’s estranged wife for the past twenty years and never told him had flattened him like a well-aimed fist.

  He pounded a fist on Beatrice’s door. “Beatrice? We need to talk.”

  Nothing answered him but the soft sounds of his and Lindsey’s breathing.

  He knocked again.

  Still nothing.

  “Damn.” He grasped the knob. It turned easily under his hand. Pushing open the door, he flipped on the light.

  The room was as barren as the day before Beatrice moved in. No clutter in the bathroom, no sheets on the bed, no sign a human lived here at all.

  Lindsey looked up at him. “I guess we didn’t have to worry that something bad happened to her. She just filed her claim against Jeb’s estate and moved out.”

  He ran a hand over his face. “I’m glad I hired security for Daddy. If she was the one who left him out on the range…”

  “Would any of the hands know where she might have gone?”

  “I doubt it, but it’s worth asking around.”

  They found Gary and some of the hands in one of the corrals. Covered with dust, Gary’s bay mare was dark with sweat. Foam lathered where the reins touched her neck. “How’s your daddy doing, Bart?” Gary said, looking from Bart to Lindsey.

  “He’s going to be in the hospital for a while. I’ll let you know when he can have visitors.”

  Gary nodded. “Got word that the FAA is sending someone out to investigate the helicopter crash. You call them?”

  “I imagine Sheriff Ben did.” Bart was glad the FAA would investigate. At least he wouldn’t have to rely on Hurley Zeller to get to the bottom of the helicopter sabotage.

  “How about Beatrice? The sheriff find her?” Gary asked.

  The sheriff. What a joke. Bart didn’t even know if the sheriff had searched. “Looks like Beatrice moved out on her own. Any of you know anything about it?”

  “Can’t say I do.” Gary glanced at the cowboys riding behind him. “You boys?”

  A chorus of nopes and shaking heads answered.

  “Anyone see her yesterday?” Bart glanced at the group of faces to the same result.

  Gary’s brow furrowed. “You can’t be thinking Beatrice sabotaged the helicopter. She wouldn’t know a blade from a cyclic.”

  “I’m thinking she may have done something to Daddy.”

  Gary shook his head. “I can’t see it. Beatrice loves that old man.”

  That’s what Bart had thought, too. Until his daddy’s life had been put in danger. Until he’d learned Beatrice was married to Jeb.

  Gary grunted. “Unless…”

  Bart’s pulse picked up its pace. “Unless what?”

  “Something Kenny said when I ran him off the ranch yesterday. Made it seem like he was here to see Beatrice.”

  A shot of adrenaline slammed into Bart’s bloodstream. “Why didn’t you mention this yesterday?”

  “I didn’t believe him when he said it. I thought he was just making up excuses to be here so he could cause trouble.”

  Anger throbbed in Bart’s ears. But the anger wasn’t directed at Gary. It was aimed squarely at Kenny. His cousin wasn’t much of a planner, but somehow he’d stumbled on the perfect plan to ruin Bart’s life and the lives of everyone he cared about.

  And Bart damn well wasn’t going to let him get away with it.

  LINDSEY COULD SEE the anger work its way from Bart’s hat to his boots, tensing every muscle and balling his hands into fists on the way. So when he spun on a heel, she was ready.

  She stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “Where are you going?”

  “I have to take care of something.” He stepped around her without missing a beat. His long legs and rolling stride closed the distance to the truck with remarkable speed.

  She ran to catch up. “Tell me you’re not going to confront Kenny.”

  “I should have done it a long damn time ago.” He yanked open the door.

  Lindsey raced around the truck. She couldn’t let Bart rush off like this. If she could keep him talking, maybe he’d calm down and see this confrontation as the mistake it was. Maybe he’d listen to reason. She opened the door and scrambled into the passenger seat.

  Bart glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. His lips flattened into a hard line, as if he was unhappy she’d tagged along but not surprised. He slipped the key into the ignition and cranked the engine to life. Shifting the truck into gear, he accelerated down the driveway and out the gate.

  Lindsey strapped herself in and held on. “You can’t talk to Kenny. Not until you calm down.”

  He looked straight ahead, eyes hard. A muscle twitched along his jaw.

  “This will just lead to a fistfight.”

  He pulled onto the highway and accelerated.

  “Your arraignment is scheduled for tomorrow, Bart. You don’t want the kind of headlines another fight between you and Kenny will cause. Not unless you want all of Mustang County to believe you’re guilty. You have to report this to the sheriff, let the law deal with Kenny.”

  “The law has done nothing but railroad me for a murder I didn’t commit.”

  She couldn’t argue with him there. She could understand his growing cynicism. “Give the system another chance, Bart. You can’t take matters into your own hands.”

  “Can’t I? Daddy could have died out on the range. Hell, we may never have found him. And you were in that helicopter. You could have—” He stopped abruptly, as if he couldn’t push the words past his lips.

  “Your father is doing well, and I’m right here. You have to listen to me.”

  Bart stared straight ahead as if he hadn’t heard a word. Re
aching the city limits in record time, he slowed. A couple blocks later, he swung into the parking lot of Hit ’Em Again. The lot was filled with pickup trucks, nearly every one equipped with a gun rack. The windows and doors of the tavern stood open. A steel guitar wailed into the warm evening.

  Bart swung the truck into one of the few free spaces, threw open the door and dismounted, slamming the door behind him. Hands hardened into fists, he strode for the tavern.

  Lindsey scrambled to catch up. She grasped his hard biceps just as he reached for the door. “Don’t do this, Bart. Please.”

  He looked down at her, his gaze sweeping over her face and zeroing in on her eyes. “Sometimes a man has to stand up, Lindsey, and protect the people he cares about. I can’t sit by while Kenny tries to hurt you or Daddy. I wouldn’t be much of a man if I did.” He turned away from her, yanked open the door and strode into the tavern.

  A shiver worked over her skin and settled in her chest. Protect the people he cares about. He’d included her in that select group. Her and his father.

  She caught the door before it swung closed and followed him into the swirl of smoke and country music.

  The place was packed. Couples whirled on the dance floor, their cowboy boots moving in the rhythm of a Texas two-step. A band crowded onto a bandstand in the corner. A short, wiry man stood center stage and belted out a heartbreak song in the deepest voice she’d ever heard. Through the smoke, music and laughter, she spotted Kenny. His back to the bar, he tipped a beer and stared through narrowed eyes at the people blowing off steam around him.

  Setting his jaw, Bart headed in his cousin’s direction.

  When Kenny spotted him, he pushed off the bar and stood on boots wobbly from booze. “You have some nerve, Bart.” His voice boomed, rising above the music and noise.

  Heads snapped around. Curious eyes followed the exchange.

  Lindsey cringed. If this confrontation erupted into a fistfight, there would be plenty of witnesses. Just what Bart didn’t need.

  “I heard you stopped at the Four Aces yesterday, Kenny.”

  “The Four Aces? What are you talking about?”