The Heroes of Horseshoe Creek

He wanted to make love to her.

Sweat beaded on his brow, and he silently cursed.

He couldn’t do any of those things because as hard as he’d tried not to care about her, he was starting to have feelings for her.

She looked up at him with that sweet, seductive look as they walked into her den, and he gruffly ordered her to go to bed and get some sleep.

Hurt flickered in her eyes, but he assured himself it was for the best. She didn’t argue. She hurried to her bedroom, making him feel like a heel.

Exhaustion tugged at his limbs, and even though he didn’t think he could sleep, he stretched out on Megan’s sofa. He laid his gun by his side just in case of trouble, then closed his eyes.

He could practically hear her whisper his name as if she wanted him to come to her.

Furious with himself, he rolled to his side to face the door, a reminder of the reason he couldn’t leave. Megan was in danger, and he wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

If anyone tried, they’d have to kill him first.

Warrior Son
Rita Herron

www.millsandboon.co.uk

USA TODAY bestselling author RITA HERRON wrote her first book when she was twelve but didn’t think real people grew up to be writers. Now she writes so she doesn’t have to get a real job. A former nursery school teacher and workshop leader, she traded storytelling to kids for writing romance, and now she writes romantic comedies and romantic suspense. Rita lives in Georgia with her family. She loves to hear from readers, so please visit her website, www.ritaherron.com.

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For Sue, a cowboy lover!

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Deputy Roan Whitefeather didn’t belong on McCullen land.

Yet here he stood at the edge of the party celebrating Ray McCullen’s marriage to Scarlet Lovett like the outsider he was.

Even though he was blood related to the McMullen men. Even though Joe McCullen was also his father.

He was alone. And he would keep it that way.

Maddox, Brett and Ray had no idea that he was their half brother. Hell, he hadn’t known until a few months ago when his mother died and he’d found that damn birth certificate.

And after the trouble the McCullens had this past week—two fires on the ranch—and the bombshell that Joe had a son named Bobby with his mistress, Barbara, Roan would keep the truth about his paternity quiet.

A noise sounded from the hill to the right, and he pivoted, senses honed. Since they still hadn’t apprehended the person responsible for the fires, he had to keep an eye out for trouble. With the entire family in celebratory mode, their guards were down. Which would give anyone with a grudge against the McCullens the perfect opportunity to attack.

Maddox, the town sheriff and Roan’s boss, stepped in front of the group gathered on the lawn by the creek and raised his champagne glass to toast the happy couple.

For a moment envy mushroomed inside him as he watched Ray kiss Scarlet, and the other brothers and their wives congratulating and hugging one another.

They had weathered some storms, but they were one big happy family now.

The only family he’d ever known was his mother and the people on the res.

He didn’t need family or anyone else, he reminded himself.

Still, he’d protect the McCullens because it was his job. And his job was all that mattered to him.

Although questions nagged at him. If Joe McCullen had known about Roan, would he have spent time with him? Would he have brought him to Horseshoe Creek and introduced him to his half brothers?

Or would he have hidden him away like he had his other illegitimate son Bobby Lowman?

The wind blew the trees rustling the leaves, and he scanned the horizon again. The ranch spread for hundreds of miles, livestock and horses roaming the pastures. Joe McCullen had definitely built a legacy here for his sons. And although Ray and Brett had been gone for years, they’d recently returned and planned to help Maddox run the ranch.

Someone didn’t want the McCullens to thrive, though. Someone who might have a grudge against Joe besides his mistress and son, Bobby. For all he knew, the problems could be about the land or the way Joe did business.

Hell, if Maddox, Brett or Ray knew Roan was blood related, they might accuse him of sabotage.

All the more reason to keep quiet about who he was.

And all the more reason to keep his questions about Joe’s death to himself until he found out if there was any substance to his suspicions.

* * *

DR. MEGAN LAIL finished her autopsy report on a man named Morty Burns, a ranch hand who’d been shot and left dead outside Pistol Whip, Wyoming. So far, the police had no idea who’d shot him, but she’d done her job—established time and cause of death and recovered the bullet that had taken the man’s life.

She had been infatuated with dead bodies since her sister’s murder. Not that she enjoyed the morbid side of death, but the bodies told the story.

Just as she’d been driven to know who killed Shelly, family members deserved to know the answers about their loved ones. And it was comforting to know she could help give them closure.

Still, her father had been disappointed in her. He’d raved about Shelly and her beauty, constantly reminding Megan that she hadn’t been graced with extraordinary looks, that she had to use her brain to get anywhere in life. She hadn’t minded that at all. Science had always interested her.

When Shelly had been killed and investigators had converged, she’d realized that the medical examiner was the one who’d discovered the clue that led to the culprit. Sitting at the trial with her father, she’d decided she wanted to be an ME.

She removed her gloves, filed her report, then clicked to the news and studied the story about the recent arrest of Bobby and Barbara Lowman made by Deputy Roan Whitefeather and the sheriff. The arrests had hit big in Pistol Whip because they centered around the McCullens of Horseshoe Creek and revealed that the patriarch of the family, Joe, who had recently died, had another family on the side.

A mistress named Barbara and an illegitimate son, Bobby.

Bobby had resented Joe for years, and his mother Barbara felt betrayed because Joe never married her. They’d also been upset over the stipulations Joe placed on the will regarding Bobby’s inheritance, that Bobby would have to work under the tutelage of Maddox.

They’d pulled a gun on Scarlet and threatened the family, and both were in prison. But neither admitted to setting the two fires on the ranch, one of which had ruined the family’s long-standing home.

More details followed in the article.

Former rodeo star Brett McCullen has offered a $10,000 reward for information leading to the arrest of the arsonist.

Megan massaged her temple as her mind took a leap. Something had been bothering her about Joe McCullen’s autopsy.

Her curious nature, the attribute that helped her most in her job, pummeled her with what-ifs. What if Joe’s death hadn’t been due to his illness?

She’d detected something odd about the tox screen and relayed her concerns to Dr. Cumberland, the McCullens’ family doctor and Joe’s lifelong friend.

The conversation replayed in her head.

“You’re young and new to this, Megan. You obviously made a mistake,” Dr. Cumberland had said. “I took care of Joe during his illness. He had emphysema. Just look at his X-rays and scans.”

She’d looked at them and Joe had in fact had emphysema. “But there are slight traces of a toxin indicating he was poisoned. It appears to be cyanide.”

Dr. Cumberland had scanned her notes and scowled. “Run the tests again. This can’t be right.”

Megan had gone to the lab, extracted another sample and sent it to be tested. An hour later, Dr. Cumberland had hand delivered the report to her.

“See, there is no sign of poison. The lab tech mixed up the reports. The result you first received was for another case.”

Yet the fact that someone was trying to hurt the McCullens bothered her. She was meticulous in her work and never made mistakes.

And she couldn’t let this go without one more look. Adrenaline pumping, she accessed the autopsy file. Guilt nagged at her for questioning Dr. Cumberland, though.

The family physician had worked in Pistol Whip for years. Everyone in town adored him. For goodness’ sake, he’d delivered half the town’s babies, including the McCullen boys, Maddox, Brett and Ray.

And he had been distraught over Joe’s death.

He wouldn’t have had any reason to lie to her or cover up a tox report.

But...something just didn’t feel right. She didn’t think she’d made a mistake...

She picked up the phone and called the lab tech, a young guy named Howard, then explained about the two different results.

“I guess it’s possible that I mixed them up,” Howard said. “But I double-check everything. I’m OCD that way.”

So was she. In their line of work, details were important.

Howard cleared his throat. “If you still have a sample I can retest.”

Megan’s pulse hammered. “As a matter of fact, I do. I’ll send it over right now, Howard. But please keep this between you and me.”

“Sure, Megan. What’s going on?”

“I just want to double-check for myself.”

He agreed to call her when he was done, and she decided she’d talk to Deputy Whitefeather while she waited on the results. He would know if Joe had any enemies.

She didn’t want to bother Joe’s sons unless she had something concrete.

The thought of seeing the deputy again stirred a hot sensation deep in her belly. She’d met Roan when he worked on the res on the tribal council.

When his mother died, she’d performed the autopsy. Roan had been devastated. His mother was all the family he had.

She’d hated to see the big, strong man in pain. A comforting hug had led to a kiss. A kiss filled with such loneliness that she hadn’t been able to resist. They’d made love for hours.

Sometimes at night when she was alone, she closed her eyes and could still feel his big, strong hands touching her, stroking her, loving her. She’d never felt anything so intense.

But the next morning, he’d walked away from her and hadn’t spoken to her since.

What would he say if she showed up with questions about Joe McCullen’s death?

* * *

ROAN CONGRATULATED THE happy couple before he drove back to the cabin he’d rented on the river. He missed the res, but working for the sheriff’s department meant he worked for all the people in Pistol Whip and the county it encompassed, so living in a neutral, more central location seemed wisest.

“Did you see anything suspicious tonight?” Maddox asked as they watched Scarlet toss the bouquet.

“No. I’ll ride across the property on my way home and take a look around, though.”

“Thanks.” Maddox shook his hand. “I appreciate you covering the office while Rose and I were gone. Brett said he was going to hire extra security for the ranch for a while, at least until we find out who set those fires. He’s rebuilding the barns and the main house is already done.”

“Extra security is not a bad idea,” Roan said. Maddox, Brett and Ray couldn’t keep up the ranch and do surveillance around the clock by themselves.

After all, on a spread this size, there were dozens of places for someone to hide.

Some blonde caught the bouquet, prompting squeals from the guests, and Maddox joined his wife on the dance floor.

Roan leaned against the edge of the makeshift bar they’d set up for the reception, his mouth watering for a cold beer. But he didn’t drink on the job.

The McCullen men danced and swayed with their wives, and for some odd reason, a pang hit him. They looked so damn happy.

They were family.

Something he didn’t have anymore.

Yet...they were his blood kin.

It doesn’t matter. You’re not going to tell them.

Hell, they’d probably think he was like Bobby Lowman, that he wanted something from them.

He wanted nothing but to live in peace. Caring about folks meant pain when they went away.

His mother’s face flashed in his mind. Truth be known, she was the only person in the world he’d ever loved.

His phone buzzed, and he checked the number, surprised to see Dr. Megan Lail’s name appear. Damn, he hadn’t seen her since last year, the night his mother died.

Since the night they’d...gotten hot and sweaty between the sheets.

Perspiration broke out on his brow and he swiped at it. It was the most erotic sex he’d ever had. For months he’d dreamed about it, woken up to an image of Megan’s breasts swaying above him as she impaled herself on his shaft. Of him pumping inside her, of her ivory skin blushing with passion and her soft moans of ecstasy filling the air.

The phone jarred him again, and he cursed and stepped aside, away from the festivities so he could hear. She was the ME, after all. She might have news about a case.

“Deputy Whitefeather.”

“Roan, it’s Dr. Lail. Megan.”

The sound of her husky voice triggered more memories of their lovemaking and made his body go rock hard.

He kept his reply short, afraid he’d give away the yearning in his voice if he said too much. “Yeah?”

“I need to see you.”

His breath stalled in his chest. She needed him? Instantly his thoughts turned to worry. What if the damn condoms hadn’t worked that night? They’d made love—how many times?

“Megan, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said softly, arousing tender feelings inside him. Feelings he didn’t want to have.

“Then why did you call?”

Her sharp intake indicated he’d been brusque.

“I’m sorry, if this is a bad time, I can call back.”

Now he had to know the reason for her call. “No, it’s fine. I’m standing guard at Ray McCullen’s wedding in case that arsonist strikes again.”

“That’s sort of the reason I called.”

He frowned, his gaze piercing the night as he pivoted to scan the pastures. “Do you have information that could help?”

“I’m not sure,” she said. “But I had some questions about Joe McCullen’s autopsy.”

Roan went completely still. “What kind of questions?”

“I don’t feel comfortable discussing it over the phone. Can we meet?”

An image of her unruly, long wavy hair surfaced. Although she usually wore it in a tight bun, the moment he’d yanked that bun free, he’d unleashed some kind of sexual animal that she kept hidden from the world.

Seeing her was not a good idea.

“Please,” she said. “It’s important. And...you’re the only one I trust.”

Damn, did she have to put it that way?

“All right. Where are you?”

“I’m still at the morgue. But I’d prefer to meet you somewhere else.”

He could go to her place. But that would be too personal. Too tempting.

“I’ll be done soon. How about we meet at The Silver Bullet in an hour?”

She agreed and hung up. For the next hour, Roan watched the celebration wind down. The happy couple kissed and said goodbye as they rushed to the limo Ray had rented. They were headed to the airport to fly to Mexico for their honeymoon.

He left the security team Brett had hired to watch over the ranch, took a quick drive across the property, looking for any stray vehicle or a fire, but all seemed quiet.

By the time he reached The Silver Bullet, he was sweating just thinking about seeing Megan again. He spotted her in a booth to the side when he entered. Country music blared from the speakers, smoke clogged the room and footsteps pounded from the line dance on the dance floor.

Megan looked up at him, one hand clenching a wineglass, her eyes worried. He ordered a beer and joined her. She’d secured her hair in that bun again, she wore no makeup and her clothes were nondescript. Once again it struck him that she downplayed her looks. He wondered why.

She could wear a damn feed sack and she’d still be the prettiest girl he’d ever met. And he knew what she looked like with that hair down, her body naked, her lips trailing kisses down his chest.

“Megan,” he said as he slipped into the booth across from her.

“Thank you for coming.” She licked her lips, drawing his eyes to her mouth. He took a sip of beer to stall and wrangle his libido.

“You said it was important.” Please spit it out so I can go home and forget about you.

Not that he ever had. But he was trying.

“Roan, I may be jumping the gun, but I had to talk to someone about this.”

The worry in her voice sounded serious. He straightened. “What is it?”

She looked down in her glass. “When I performed Joe McCullen’s autopsy the first time, I...thought I saw something suspicious in his tox report.”

Roan’s heart jumped.

“With all that’s happened at Horseshoe Creek recently,” Megan continued, “and with that Lowman woman and her son, and those fires...it made me think of that report.”

“I don’t understand,” Roan said. “What was it that bothered you?”

She inhaled a deep breath, then glanced around the room warily, as if she didn’t want anyone to hear their conversation. His instincts roared to life. She’d said she didn’t feel comfortable talking on the phone.

“Megan, tell me,” he said.

“I don’t think Joe McCullen died of natural causes.” She leaned closer, her voice low. “I think he was murdered.”

Chapter Two

Megan’s words reverberated in Roan’s ears. Joe McCullen was murdered.

“How?”

“Poison. Cyanide.”

“Are you sure?”

Megan winced. “Not exactly, but—”

“But what?” He leaned across the table, speaking in a hushed tone. “Why did you come to me if you don’t know?”

She fiddled with a strand of hair, tucking it back in that bun. He wanted to unknot it and run his fingers through it.

But he had to focus.

“I know what I saw in that initial report. But Dr. Cumberland made me question my results and ran it again. That’s when it came back normal.”

“So you have one bad test and one normal one?”

“Yes.”

“Go on.”

She fidgeted with her little round glasses, pushing them up on her nose. “I talked to the lab tech and he’s meticulous with details. He didn’t think he mixed up the reports like Dr. Cumberland said.”

“Everyone makes mistakes,” Roan said.

“I know.” Megan took a sip of her wine. “But I’ve seen this guy’s work. He’s OCD. He checks things at least three times.”

Roan didn’t know how to respond.

If Megan was right, that meant Joe had been murdered.

But they couldn’t make accusations without something more concrete. That would only cause more trouble for the McCullens.

If she was right, though, then someone had gotten away with killing Joe—his father. And he couldn’t let that happen.

“Anyway, I talked to the lab tech,” Megan said. “I preserved a sample and he’s going to retest it.”

Roan gave a clipped nod. “When will you have the results?”

“Probably tomorrow. I asked him to keep it quiet.”

“Good.” His gaze met hers. “Don’t tell anyone else about this, Megan. You don’t want to create panic if there’s nothing to it.”

A wary look flashed in those dark brown eyes. “Of course I won’t say anything. But if it’s true, someone needs to find out who poisoned Joe McCullen.”

“And how they did it,” Roan muttered. “It would have been difficult with Dr. Cumberland monitoring his health.” And there was no way he could accuse the good doctor of foul play. Roan knew Cumberland personally. He was the most compassionate man Roan had ever met. He’d donated time to the res when they needed a Western doctor.

He’d even treated Roan’s mother. For God’s sake, he’d held her hand and comforted her before she passed.

But Joe could have had visitors. Someone could have slipped something to him when nobody was watching.

“What if Barbara or her son, Bobby, did it?” Megan said. “You know Barbara got tired of waiting on Joe to marry her. Maybe she decided to kill him and get what was owed her.”

Roan frowned. “True. But if he was sick anyway, why kill him? Why not wait until the disease got the best of him?”

* * *

MEGAN CONSIDERED ROAN’S STATEMENT. Why would someone go to the trouble to kill a man who was already dying?

“Megan?”

His gruff voice always turned her inside out. When she looked up at him, he was watching her with an intensity that sent a tingle through her.

“I don’t know.” Barbara and Bobby resented the fact that Joe kept them a secret. Part of her understood their animosity. “Maybe Barbara knew that Joe had included her in the will. But what if he’d decided to change it recently? Maybe he was going to cut them out for some reason.”

“And one or both of them decided to kill him before he could,” Roan finished.

She nodded. “That would make sense.”

Roan’s wide jaw snapped tight. “If that’s the case, I need proof. I doubt either one of the Lowmans are going to cop to murder.”

She doubted that, too. “What’s our next move?”

Roan’s gaze met hers. “We don’t have a next move, Megan. If you go around making accusations, you could get hurt.”

Megan drummed her fingers on the table. She noticed Roan watching and realized how desperately she needed a manicure—the chemicals she worked with at the morgue were hell on her nails and skin—so she curled her fingers into her palms.

Still the questions she’d had since she’d first suspected poison in Joe’s tox report nagged at her. She wasn’t some delicate princess type who ran from trouble. When she had questions, she sought answers. It was the nature of being a scientist and doctor. “But I can’t let this go, Roan.”

Roan laid one big hand on top of both of hers. “Listen to me. I’m the lawman. First things first. Get that report, then call me with the results. If you confirm poison, I’ll investigate.”

Memories of him intimately touching her flooded her as she stared at their fingers. She wanted to relive that night. At least one more time.

But Roan quickly pulled his hand away, his jaw set hard again, his high cheekbones accentuated by the way his hair was pulled back in a leather tie. The only time he’d ever let down his guard was the night his mother died.

He obviously regretted doing it then.

But at least he hadn’t thought she was crazy. If that report confirmed what she suspected, he’d investigate.

She’d have to be satisfied with that for now.

* * *

ROAN TRIED TO shake off the ridiculous need to fold Megan in his arms and ask her to go home with him. He could use the sweet release of a hot night in bed with her again.

But one look into that vulnerable face and he knew that would be a mistake. Megan was not a one night stand kind of girl.

Which made it even more awkward that he’d used her for comfort the night his mother died and never contacted her again.

She knew what she was getting into. She’s a big girl.

Only she wasn’t like the other women he knew. She was smart, curious, a problem solver.

And she had no idea how beautiful she was.

But her words disturbed him. She thought Joe was murdered. And she hadn’t just offered some harebrained reason. She had offered a believable motive.

One he would investigate. On his own.

He didn’t want her near him. She was too damn tempting.

Worse, asking questions could be dangerous.

He tossed some bills on the table to pay for the drink. “Like I said, call me when you get the results of that tox screen.”

He stood, tipped his Stetson and strode through the busy bar. Music rocked the establishment, laughter and chatter filling the air. Men and women came here to unwind and hook up.

But he ignored the interested females and strode outside. His mind was already ticking away what he needed to do.

He and Maddox were still trying to figure out who set those fires. Could the same person have murdered Joe?

And then there was Barbara and Bobby Lowman...

Megan’s comment about the will made him reach for his phone. He climbed in his SUV and punched Darren Bush’s number, but received the lawyer’s voice mail. “It’s Deputy Whitefeather,” he said. “Please call me as soon as possible.”

He might be jumping the gun, but he’d drive out to the Lowmans’ house tonight and take a look around.

* * *

MEGAN WATCHED ROAN leave with mixed emotions. She was relieved he’d taken her concerns seriously.

But disappointed that he didn’t hint at wanting a personal relationship.

She blinked back tears. Good grief. She wasn’t a crier. She’d learned long ago not to let rejection destroy her. Like her father said, she had brains and she’d use them to survive.

In fact, it was better she wasn’t gorgeous like her sister. The cops suspected Shelly was targeted by the man who’d killed her because of her looks. Even their mother had been model pretty.

But she’d never gotten over Shelly’s death and had eventually committed suicide as if Megan wasn’t enough to fill the void Shelly had left.

As if she was the daughter who should have died instead of Shelly.

Bile rose to her throat at the memories, and she pushed her wine aside, then headed to the door. She elbowed her way through the crowd, ignoring catcalls from drunk cowboys as she stepped outside.

One beefy man in a big black hat grabbed her arm. “What’s your hurry? Let your hair down and we could have a lot of fun.”

She glared at him with her best “get lost” look. “Sorry, mister. Not interested.”

His fingers tightened around her arm. “Hey, don’t I know you? You’re that medical examiner who sent my brother to jail.”

She arched a brow, struggling to recall the details. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t remember? You said my brother killed this drifter and he’s locked up now ’cause of you.”

The hair on the back of her neck prickled. His tone reeked of bitterness. “I’m sorry for what happened to your family,” she said. “But I was just doing my job.”

“Well, you were wrong, lady. My brother didn’t kill no one.”

Megan forced herself to remain calm. “I file a report based on scientific evidence I find in the autopsy. The rest is up to the law and a jury.” She yanked her arm away, then took a deep breath. “Now, good night.”

He muttered a profanity as she brushed him out of the way and walked to her car. Gravel crunched beneath her boots, and she glanced over her shoulder to make sure the jerk wasn’t following.

Keys already in hand, she pressed the unlock button on the key fob and slid into the driver’s seat of her van. She liked driving something with room enough to carry her medical bag and a change of clothes when she worked all night.

The engine chugged to life, and she checked her rearview mirror. The man had followed her outside and was glaring at her as she disappeared.

Nerves knotted her stomach. He’d said she was wrong about his brother. Had she been wrong?

Everyone made mistakes. But she was careful about her reports.

Although sometimes her curiosity got the better of her—like now?

Was she looking for trouble regarding Joe McCullen’s death when there hadn’t been foul play?

* * *

ROAN PULLED INTO the driveway of Barbara’s house, noting that most of the lights were off in the neighborhood. Barbara’s house was dark, vacant now that she and her son were incarcerated.

He cut the lights, then glanced around the property, hoping not to alert anyone that he was nosing around. Maddox would probably be ticked off if he knew Roan was here, that he hadn’t told him about his conversation with Megan.

But there was no need in stirring up Maddox’s emotions over questions about his father’s death unless he had some concrete evidence that Joe had been murdered.

He grabbed his flashlight and walked around to the rear, then checked the back door. He picked the lock and slipped inside. The house smelled of mildew, stale cigarette smoke and beer.

He shined the light through the kitchen, expecting to see dirty dishes, but the sink was empty and, except for a few empty beer bottles, the counter was free of clutter.

Remembering that he was searching for poison, he opened the refrigerator and scanned the contents. A milk carton, juice, soda, a head of wilted lettuce, carton of eggs, yogurt. He opened the milk and gagged at the sour smell.

But he saw nothing inside that looked like poison.

Next he checked the cabinets, searching below the sink, and found household cleaners, some of which were poisonous, but was it the poison that had allegedly killed Joe?