Cowboy Outlaw Read online

  “I told her to wait upstairs so we could have a little chat.” Gino turned to face him. “Exactly what are your intentions toward my sister?”

  “I simply intend to share a basket of ribs with her and discuss design plans for the café. This is a business meeting.”

  Gino rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s what she keeps saying, too. But I’m not worried about dinner. I want to know what you have in mind for dessert.”

  “Something sweet and soothing, which pretty much rules out your sister.” Then he smiled. “Don’t worry about it, Gino. I’m not interested in Chloe that way.” Which wasn’t exactly true, but he didn’t like the way Gino was still eyeing that knife.

  “I hope not.” Gino moved a step closer to him, the top of his head barely reaching Cade’s chin. “Because otherwise you’ll have to answer to me.”

  “Thanks for the warning,” Cade said dryly.

  “Please remember it,” Gino said, attempting a menacing glare. “Oh, and can I have tomorrow off?”

  “Nope, you need to be at the café at seven o’clock sharp.”

  Gino sighed, all his bravado instantly deflating. “Okay, I’ll try to make it, but I have to stop for coffee first or I’ll be useless to you.” Then he turned on his heel and strode out of the living room, his footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor as he disappeared into another part of the house.

  Cade watched him leave, grudgingly impressed with Gino’s efforts to watch out for his sister. The man might be kind of a nut, but he was a loyal nut.

  Left on his own, Cade could finally feast his eyes on the exquisitely crafted and spacious front living room. There were two vintage chandeliers, dripping with sparkling crystals. It also boasted two fireplaces, a high ceiling, and a breathtaking grand staircase. He saw evidence of fine workmanship everywhere he looked. Intricate crown moldings, arched entryways, and original mantels made his heart beat faster.

  The largest arched window, reaching from floor-to-ceiling, was a showpiece, accented with rose, amber, and green stained glass. Marble insets flanked the hand-carved windowsill and adorned both fireplaces. The vintage sofa and armchairs fit perfectly in the room, sharing the same colors found in the stained glass. He noticed Chloe’s purse sitting atop an antique glass door that had been repurposed into a gorgeous coffee table.

  Cade stared in wonder around the rest of the unique room, touching each surface with an almost breathless reverence. Chloe obviously wasn’t his perfect match, but he was falling hard and fast for her beautiful home.

  He had to give her credit, though. She’d decorated it just right. The simple, tasteful furnishings and decor enhanced rather than detracted from the detailed carpentry work and the nineteenth-century grandeur of the setting. Chloe had also used a playful mix of solid and print fabrics to lighten the mood of the room and give it a welcoming air. He just hoped she could do half as well with Carly’s new café.

  Saving the best for last, Cade moved toward the curved, oak staircase. He’d never seen a staircase like this up close before, although he knew a handful had been built in Pine City in the 1890s. It was much wider and sturdier than any modern-day staircase. Trimmed with raised wood panels, it featured elegant balustrades and elaborately carved newel posts. The staircase was in amazing condition for its age, the solid oak gleaming and polished to a high sheen. Unable to resist, he reached out one hand and ran it down the smooth handrail. He didn’t know enough about real estate to guess the value of the old house, but the staircase itself had to be worth a fortune.

  He wondered who had built it. One of his hobbies was studying the techniques of local craftsmen from the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. They had built some of the finest houses in Texas. He bent down to look at the underside of the staircase, hoping to find a date or even hand-carved initials of the person responsible for this masterpiece.

  He saw something far different.

  “What the hell?” he muttered, angling his head for a better view. Then he heard footsteps behind him. But before he could turn around, something solid and heavy struck his temple. He blinked in surprise as a blinding pain streaked through his head.

  Then everything went black.

  ###

  Chloe finished answering a string of text messages from a potential client before finally leaving her bedroom to meet with Cade. The sound of a loud thud from below made her pause at the top of the staircase. “Gino?”

  No answer. It was quiet down there. Too quiet. She hoped Gino hadn’t refused to let Cade inside the house. Or maybe the man hadn’t shown up at all. In the past twenty-four hours, she’d wondered more than once if Cade would want to back out of their deal.

  Her doubts turned to uneasiness when she reached the first-floor landing. The living room was empty, but the front door stood wide open. She walked toward it and looked outside. The covered front porch stood empty too, although Cade’s freshly washed pickup truck was parked on the street out front.

  Chloe closed the door and turned back into the living room. That’s when she saw the hilt of a large knife sticking out of the potted plant. It looked as if someone had tried to murder her bamboo palm.

  “Gino?” she called out again, carefully pulling the knife out of the yellow ceramic pot, her gaze scanning the empty living room. “Where are you?”

  Then the mouthwatering aroma of barbecue hit her, and she saw a large sack emblazoned with the words Ray’s Rib Joint sitting atop the marble accent table. That, along with his pickup truck, meant Cade had to be here somewhere.

  She carefully set the knife down and then moved to a side window, where she saw her brother’s beat-up ‘07 hatchback sitting in the narrow driveway.

  “Gino?” she called out again, much louder this time as she walked quickly down the long hallway, checking all the other rooms on the main floor. Could Cade possibly have gone upstairs without her seeing him? It seemed unlikely since he wouldn’t know the way to her office, but where else could he be?

  Chloe moved back into the living room and headed toward the grand staircase, a vague uneasiness settling over her. She’d only climbed a few steps when she looked down and saw the cowboy boots. She blinked in surprise, then leaned over the right side of the banister. Sticking out from under the staircase were a pair of black cowboy boots, the toes pointing up toward the ceiling. She leaned farther and saw that the boots were connected to a pair of long legs clad in blue jeans.

  “Cade?” She bounded down the stairs and rounded the newel post, her knees hitting the hardwood floor right next to the boots. Bending down far enough to peer underneath the staircase, she saw Cade Holden, unconscious and crammed in the narrow space between the floor and the bottom of the staircase.

  His face looked ghostly white in the shadows.

  She grabbed one of his legs and shook it. “Cade, are you all right?”

  He didn’t react to either her voice or her jostling. He just lay there deathly still. Her heart pounded in her chest as panic consumed her. She stood, grabbing both legs this time, and pulled with all her might. His large body moved only a few inches. She tugged on him again, grunting aloud with her effort. He was so impossibly heavy. She’d never moved over two hundred pounds of dead weight before. Dead. The awful word reverberated in her head.

  He couldn’t be dead. Could he?

  At last, she’d pulled his body clear of the staircase. She dived to her knees again and clasped him by the shoulders. “Cade, please wake up. Please!”

  The skin at his temple was mottled a dusky blue, and a thin red streak of blood ran down his cheek. His face was still pale, his lips almost bloodless. She wasn’t sure he was breathing.

  “Cade!” She shouted his name, her throat straining with effort and fear. She called out to him again. Then a third time.

  No response.

  Frantic now, she cupped one hand under his neck, tilting his chin up. His mouth fell open, revealing a straight line of white teeth. She took a deep breath, then clamped her mouth over his. Exhaling slowly
, she tried to fill his lungs with air. But somehow, it wasn’t working right.

  Then he moved. His lips, anyway, gently molding themselves against her mouth. His tongue darted forward, and her eyes opened wide as it slid sleekly inside.

  His eyes were still closed, and she heard a low rumble deep in his throat. Then his hands reached up to cradle her face, holding her gently in place. Pure sensation overcame her shock as his mouth pressed against hers. His fingers trailed down the length of her neck, making her moan softly as his thumbs began stroking her collarbone. Then his hands moved over her shoulders, drawing her even closer to him.

  He groaned again. Only this time it sounded more like a groan of pain than pleasure.

  Chloe broke the kiss and sat up, watching him grimace as he slowly brought one hand to his temple. She swallowed hard. “You’re not dead.”

  “Obviously.” His voice sounded weak and raspy. “What the hell happened?”

  “I don’t know. I came down here and found you unconscious under the stairs.”

  His gaze focused on her. “Where exactly is here?”

  “My house.” She leaned forward, worried he might have a concussion. “I’m Chloe, remember? Chloe Galetti. We have a meeting about the café.”

  “That’s right... Chloe.” He closed his eyes. “I dreamed you were kissing me.”

  It seemed like a dream to her, too. She’d never been kissed like that before. It wasn’t just his technique. The man had been barely conscious, after all. It was the unusual spark that had arced between them—connected them.

  He opened his eyes. “Or was it all a dream?”

  “No. But it wasn’t exactly a kiss, either—at least it didn’t start out that way.” She licked her lips. “That’s not important right now. How do you feel?”

  “Like someone walloped me with a fence post. What happened?”

  “I think you were attacked by a Chihuahua.”

  He shook his head as if to clear it, then winced. “Am I hearing things? Did you say a Chihuahua?”

  She stooped to pick up the small ceramic dog lying upended beneath the stairs. Someone had obviously left it there after hitting Cade in the head with it. One ceramic ear had been chipped off, and the remaining fragment was stained with a small amount of blood. She held it up for him to see. “This used to be Gino’s pet, since he’s allergic to animal dander. Now we use it for a doorstop.”

  “It also makes a handy guard dog,” he said, gingerly fingering his injury. “I just wish I’d seen it coming.”

  “What, exactly, were you doing under the staircase?”

  “The staircase,” he echoed, closing his eyes once more. “Nice. Nice staircase. I wanted to look under it.”

  She wondered if he was still confused. “Why?”

  His brow crinkled as if he was trying to remember the reason. At last, he said, “Names. I was looking for names.”

  Names? That didn’t make any sense. Which shouldn’t surprise her since he was suffering from a head injury. “Speaking of names, do you happen to remember yours?”

  He opened his eyes and scowled up at her. “Of course.”

  “Tell me,” she said, wanting to be certain.

  “Cade Joseph Holden. I’m twenty-nine years old and live on Elk Creek Ranch.” He arched a brow, then winced at the slight movement. “Am I right?”

  “The name and place are right, but you look older than twenty-nine.”

  “At the moment, I feel about eighty-nine.” He struggled to sit up, his face blanching at the effort. “Make that ninety-nine.”

  She clasped his broad shoulder and helped pull him up to a sitting position. He closed his eyes, then slowly dropped his head between his knees.

  “Give me a minute,” he said. “The room is spinning.”

  Chloe nibbled her lower lip, wondering if she should call him an ambulance. “Are you sure you’re all right? Do you need a doctor?”

  After a long moment, he raised head and looked around the room. “I think I’m good. The dizziness has passed.”

  “I still don’t understand what happened.”

  He glanced over at her. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “No, not to me.” She stood up and began to pace. “I find you unconscious under the staircase and I can’t find my brother anywhere.” She paused to look at him, twisting her fingers together. “Do you think Gino is in trouble?”

  “Definitely.” He gripped the newel post, then rose unsteadily to his feet. “Attempted murder is a serious matter.”

  Her brow furrowed. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that Gino is a danger to himself and others. And I seem to be his number one target.” The color was coming back into his face. He looked almost normal but sounded paranoid.

  “I think you should sit down again.”

  “Your brother answered the front door with a carving knife in his hand,” he continued, ignoring her advice, “making it perfectly clear that he doesn’t want me anywhere near you. Then he attacked me with that Chihuahua.” Cade took a couple of wobbly steps in her direction. “And just the other day, he assaulted me with a power saw.”

  “That was an accident. And this is preposterous. Gino would never... could never... hurt anyone.” Her gaze flicked to his foot. “Not on purpose, anyway.”

  “Chloe, I admire your loyalty, but this is pushing it a bit too far. The man is a menace. He belongs behind bars.”

  Her blood turned to ice at his words. Gino would never survive in jail. He could barely survive out of jail.

  “I know he’s your brother,” Cade continued, his tone gentler now. “But I have to report him to the police. Otherwise, he’s liable to kill someone with these crazy antics. And since I seem to be his favorite target, I’m thinking that someone will be me.”

  “You don’t understand,” she breathed. “He’s had a tough life. Our family is... different.”

  A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I do understand—better than you think. But Gino has to take responsibility for his actions. And a lousy childhood or a lawbreaking family aren’t excuses he can hide behind.”

  His words transformed her fear to anger. “Look, this is ridiculous. I’m telling you that Gino did not knock you out with that Chihuahua. I give you my word.”

  Cade folded his arms across his chest. “Then who did?”

  She shrugged, her mind racing to come up with a plausible suspect. “Well, there’s Uncle Vince. Sometimes he drops by unexpectedly. Vince likes to hit first and ask questions later. Then there’s Frankie.”

  “Frankie?”

  “My cousin. He works as an enforcer for a loan shark. Sometimes he likes to practice on unsuspecting victims.”

  “Charming family,” he quipped. “Gino is starting to sound better all the time. Any other violent types?”

  “Valentina,” she replied with a sigh of regret. “Another cousin. She’s hated men ever since her high school sweetheart squealed on her to the Feds.”

  Cade set his jaw. “You really expect me to buy all this?”

  “It’s the truth.” She lifted her chin. “If you don’t believe me, call my mother and ask her.”

  “Maybe I will. Especially if she can talk some sense into you.” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “What’s her number?”

  “One-four-two-three-seven-six.”

  He arched a disbelieving brow. “That’s her telephone number?”

  “No, it’s her inmate ID number. You’ll need it when you call the North Texas Women’s Correctional Center.”

  Cade’s eyebrows shot up. “Your mother is...?”

  “She’s a convicted felon,” Chloe said evenly. After her father’s death, she’d promised herself not to lie about her family anymore. Honesty kept the shame and embarrassment at bay, but the way Cade was staring at her made her uneasy. “The speed-dial number for the prison is taped on the back of the telephone receiver.”

  Cade walked over to the vintage telephone stand, where they kept the only landli
ne phone in the house. “You’ve got three prisons listed here.”

  “The Galettis get around. And there’s a fourth number in the drawer. That one’s for the county’s juvenile detention center. My uncle Leo’s stepson, Benson, recently hot-wired a car on his fifteenth birthday and went joyriding.”

  Cade kept staring at the speed-dial list. “Your mother is really in prison?”

  Chloe heard both surprise and pity in his voice. She didn’t care for either. “Yes. But I’m hoping she’ll be out on parole in a few weeks.”

  He turned to her. “Exactly how many Galettis are behind bars?”

  Chloe glanced up at the ceiling as she mentally calculated the number. “Currently, there are six, if you count Benson. But he’s not technically behind bars. It’s more like a very secure rehabilitation facility.”

  “Six,” he echoed.

  “So, you see,” she said, lifting her chin. “I do have some experience with criminal behavior. Gino just doesn’t have it in him, no matter how much he might wish otherwise.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing,” she bit out, wishing she’d bitten her tongue instead. Cade already thought badly enough of her brother without knowing he aspired to become a master jewel thief.

  “Tell me.”

  “It’s not important,” she insisted, wishing he’d drop it already.

  He just stared at her, waiting for her to elaborate. Was that empathy she saw in his dazed blue eyes? Compassion?

  “Fine,” she said at last. “On one condition.”

  “You’re hardly in any position to make conditions. You can either tell me right now or I pick up this telephone and call the police.”

  So much for compassion.

  “Go ahead and call them,” she bluffed. “I’m not telling you anything.”

  But instead of reaching for the telephone, Cade walked to the nearest armchair and sat down. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, his face still unnaturally pale. In that moment, she regretted arguing with him when he had a head injury. She knew in her heart Gino wouldn’t purposely hurt anyone, but someone had definitely hurt Cade. And there was a high probability that someone was a Galetti. Pangs of guilt and regret shot through her.