Page 19 of Will (The Cowboys of Calamity, Texas #3)
Chapter Twelve
The next morning, the ranch house was strangely quiet as Will appeared from the second-story guest room. A rooster crowed in the distance, briefly breaking the silence. Will closed the bedroom door behind him and paused, stifling a yawn.
Despite sleeping on a comfortable bed for the first time in days, he’d tossed and turned all night. He couldn’t get comfortable—or stop thinking about Honey. Their conversation in the hallway last night, when they’d literally been standing between two bedrooms, kept replaying in his mind.
She’d asked him a simple question. “There are two bedrooms up here, Will. So, what do you want?”
Not which one he’d wanted, but what he’d wanted.
And the simple answer—the only answer—was that he wanted her. Will had realized that when she’d half-dragged him into her family cabin in the middle of the night. She’d refused to give up. Or to leave him behind. She’d willed herself, and him, to keep going.
Honey made him feel something he’d never felt with a woman before.
Safe.
It wasn’t something he’d ever admit aloud, at least not to friends or colleagues. Simply because his definition went beyond the ordinary meaning of the word. Beyond the physical meaning of safe. Rather, it was something more… visceral. A definition he couldn’t quite explain, even to himself.
When she’d asked him that question last night, it sent his brain into a spiral.
So he’d come up a noble reason—a valid reason—why he should sleep in the other bedroom.
Out of respect for her parents and to keep peace in the family.
Then he’d quickly said good night to her before his desire for her changed his mind.
He had protected beautiful women in the past and always kept his professional boundaries with them, but none of those women had been anything like Honey B. Hallgren.
He considered the invisible lariat she’d snared him with. It was difficult to put a finger on what made her so different. Maybe the B stood for bewitching. Because he was under her spell. She surprised him, challenged him, intrigued him.
And made him feel safe enough to share his deepest pain with her.
He’d already kissed her. Three times, including before bed last night. Although, the second time, she’d started it. He knew in his heart that kiss would have led to more if her mother hadn’t phoned her at that moment.
Will breathed a long sigh, half frustration, half relief. Then he continued his way toward the staircase, reminding himself of his training and how his growing feelings for Honey might prove even more dangerous for her.
He’d already dragged her and her parents into this mess with The Destroyer. The least he could do was try to keep a professional detachment with Honey going forward. He owed her that much for everything he’d put her through. He owed it to her to keep his personal feelings out of this case.
In the kitchen, he found Honey sitting at the table, reading her phone as she ate breakfast. Sunlight streamed through the windows behind her, turning her hair the color of spun gold and highlighting the dewy skin exposed by the V-neck of her emerald-green blouse.
Honey looked up from her cereal bowl. “Good morning! Did you sleep well?”
“No complaints,” he hedged. “Is there enough cereal in that box for me?”
“There’s plenty. Help yourself.” She pointed to the bowls on the table. “Mom left the cereal, bowls, and spoons out for us like we’re freshmen in college, home on visit.”
Will took a seat at the table across from her. “I ate so much at that age that my dad threatened to put a lock on the refrigerator door whenever I came home for the weekend.” He smiled at the memory. Then he looked up at Honey and got lost in her big brown eyes.
Again.
So much for professional detachment.
The vibration of his cell phone on the table saved him from crossing another boundary. He picked it up and opened the text message.
“It’s from the sheriff’s office,” he told her. “The test results from Ronnie’s T-shirt are in.”
* * *
They arrived at the sheriff’s office less than an hour later.
Honey maneuvered her car into an empty parking space, feeling nervous.
As a reporter, she’d made more visits to this office over the years than she could count.
But this time it was about family. And even though she’d often found her younger cousin to be annoying in the extreme, she couldn’t stand the thought that Ronnie might be injured—or worse.
She sucked in a deep breath, then turned to Will. “What if Ronnie’s shirt did test positive for blood? How will I tell Aunt Cynthia?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He reached over and gently touched her hand, then pulled back almost at once. “We’ll take it step-by-step. Instead of speculating, let’s wait until we get the test results and go from there.”
Honey climbed out of the car and walked in silence with Will toward the front entrance of the sheriff’s office. She supposed he was right. Cowering from the truth never changed anything. In her experience, it usually made everything worse.
She needed to remember that the next time she started daydreaming about the man walking beside her.
“I should warn you about Wanda,” she said when they reached door. “She’s been working here almost fifty years and is pretty old school.”
“Don’t worry.” He flashed a smile and opened the door for her. “A lot of older women like me. I guess they can’t resist my good manners and Southern charm.”
Honey laughed. “Then I’m sure you’ll be fine.” But she couldn’t deny there was some truth to what he said. Will had charmed her right off her feet. That steamy and slippery interlude with him in her bathroom had most certainly sent her reeling.
When they reached the front desk, Wanda walked over to greet them. “Well, if isn’t the Calamity Chronicle ’s finest reporter and her latest boy toy.”
* * *
If Honey had been drinking water at that moment, she would have done a spit-take at Will’s reaction.
He blinked in surprise at the greeting, then glanced over at her as if to get her take on the situation.
Her non-reaction must have clued him in that this was just part of the receptionist’s boisterous personality.
“Actually, I’m not a boy toy,” he clarified, stepping closer to the desk.
Indeed. He definitely was not a mere boy, and he was certainly no one to be toyed with.
“My name is Will Pierce and I’m a Texas Ranger. I’m here about some test results on a T-shirt I brought in.”
“Do you have the ticket?” Wanda asked.
Will’s stare would have melted a lesser woman’s resolve, but the receptionist didn’t even blink.
“Deputy Booker did not give me a ticket. It’s a gray T-shirt. Dark stain on the front. The initials R.B. on the tag.” He said in a staccato pattern that mimicked reading from a checklist. “I brought it in this past Sunday, shortly before noon.”
Wanda sighed. “While I appreciate you sharing the journey of this special T-shirt, I still need the ticket. That’s how this office is run. Now it may not be your fault, because the person receiving the bagged evidence…”
Wanda stopped talking and closed her eyes. “Please tell me that T-shirt was bagged.”
“I bagged it myself,” Honey said, eager to see Wanda’s reaction. As usual, the woman didn’t disappoint.
“Oh, that’s just wonderful,” Wanda said.
“The local investigative reporter plays crime scene technician and bags the evidence herself. I can’t wait to see how that holds up in court.
” She wagged her finger at Honey. “With your brains and experience, you should know better than that, Honey B. Hallgren. And today, the B stands for bananas. Because that’s what I think of this entire situation. ”
Accustomed to Wanda’s bluster, Honey took the dressing down in stride, but she was amused to watch Will’s bewilderment over the exchange.
A crease formed between his dark brows. “Are you telling me we can’t get the test results without a ticket?”
Wanda’s face relaxed into a smile as she turned to him. “You are a Texas Ranger and you do seem like a nice man, although perhaps na?ve, but you’re definitely a looker, so today I’ll make an exception.”
Wanda reached for a sealed manila envelope on her desk and handed it to him.
“Just don’t let it happen again,” she insisted.
Five minutes later, Will whispered to Honey as they made their way out of the sheriff’s office. “What just happened?”
She gazed up at him, not surprised by Wanda’s sudden change of heart. A man like Will seemed to have a mysterious way about him with headstrong women.
“I think you’ve just been officially welcomed to Calamity.”
* * *
The following day, Honey drove into town to attend the monthly meeting of the Calamity Chat Club, also known as the CCC.
The club had been created ten years ago by women from various professions to share social time together during the workweek.
They met for lunch on the second Tuesday of each month, although the number of attendees fluctuated.
There could be a large group of twenty women one month or an intimate table of three women the next month.
No matter how many showed up, Honey always had an enjoyable time. It was one of things she was going to miss when she moved to Austin.
She thought it was sweet that Will had opted to stay on the ranch and help her father and Theo with the tagging and vaccinating of the new calves.
Since The Destroyer was still on the loose, he’d decided the ranch chores would be a good excuse for him to both stay out of the public eye and remain near her family after they had also received that threatening note.
While he was out working in the April sunshine, she’d been in her room, making careful edits to her profile piece about Will. She wanted it to be perfect when she finally sent it to the hiring manager of the regional news syndicate.