set in place based on our civil suit."
"Got it. This guy isn't clicking on even two cylinders, I reckon. I won't let him anywhere near her."
"You won't let who near me?" Lily's soft voice made him turn to face her where she stood in the doorway.
"Talk to you later." Flint hung up and reached for her, pulling her close. Where to start...tough question. Best to be totally honest.
"Your step father is running scared. Max filed a civil suit against him and had him served with papers a few days back. He knows you're here with me." The look on her face was enough to make him want to pound that man into the ground.
"He's coming to get me, isn't he?" Her voice was hollow, and all color drained from her face.
"He can't touch you. Max filed a restraining order against him until the judge in the felony case sees the evidence. If all goes according to plan, the criminal charges against you should be dropped. And just for your information, he is no longer your legal guardian/conservator. With all the evidence against him, he'll be lucky if he isn't in jail himself."
"He's crazy, Flint...crazy enough to do something stupid. He gets drunk as a skunk and he truly thinks he's untouchable. I should go into town and stay in the motel there. He might come here and try to hurt everyone."
"You'll stay here...in my room. And I'll do everything in my power to make you forget he ever existed."
Her gaze locked with his. "He really can't touch me ever again?"
His gut twisted as he understood suddenly her fear of the son of a bitch. The man had killed her mother and had gotten away with it. He'd made the whole damn town of Garfield think she was some crazy, suicidal thief, and he'd kept her a virtual prisoner in her own home while he spent the insurance money meant to take care of her mom and her. She was just a bitty little thing and Flint ached to show her tormentor exactly what it felt like to be helpless and afraid for his life.
He suddenly hoped Jacob Proctor would come for a visit. He'd like to give the bastard an El Diablo welcome...
He recalled his dad telling him the story of how his great grandfather had been harassed and threatened by a band of Mexican bandits that spread terror across central Texas, killing settlers, raping and pillaging, and driving off their animals. Jose Calderon had laid claim to the lush green area bisected by spring floods between the Pedernales and the Blanco. He'd run a large herd of longhorns with a few Hereford bulls tossed in, and eventually he was rewarded with a much larger herd of cross bred cattle that could stand the heat, did well on rangeland browsing, and withstood most diseases and droughts.
The banditos had chipped away at his herds, taking hundreds of calves each year, and they had burned his oak barns and even his house...until old Jose decided to corner the outlaws in a blind canyon and pick them off from the ridge above with his old Henry rifle. That particular band of outlaws was never heard from again...and old Jose blamed their demise on the fact that those robbers had crossed El Diablo once too often. Of course, he was referring to the devil, but locals decided to take it that Jose Calderon was the devil they'd crossed...and the name El Diablo had sort of stuck...both on Jose and his ranch.
Flint wasn't too sure where that old box canyon was located, but he had his suspicions, and he'd love to introduce Jacob Proctor to that historic aspect of El Diablo.
Lily opened her eyes to darkness, but that old panic returned with a vengeance. She had insisted on sleeping alone in her own room despite Flint's cajoling and insistence that he would feel better if she slept with him. Now she wished she had allowed him to convince her to sleep in his, because the harsh sound of someone breathing too close to her ear left her petrified with fear.
Before she could say a word or cry out, a rough hand slapped over her mouth, and a too familiar voice rasped in her ear, "Thought ya'd get away
"Got it. This guy isn't clicking on even two cylinders, I reckon. I won't let him anywhere near her."
"You won't let who near me?" Lily's soft voice made him turn to face her where she stood in the doorway.
"Talk to you later." Flint hung up and reached for her, pulling her close. Where to start...tough question. Best to be totally honest.
"Your step father is running scared. Max filed a civil suit against him and had him served with papers a few days back. He knows you're here with me." The look on her face was enough to make him want to pound that man into the ground.
"He's coming to get me, isn't he?" Her voice was hollow, and all color drained from her face.
"He can't touch you. Max filed a restraining order against him until the judge in the felony case sees the evidence. If all goes according to plan, the criminal charges against you should be dropped. And just for your information, he is no longer your legal guardian/conservator. With all the evidence against him, he'll be lucky if he isn't in jail himself."
"He's crazy, Flint...crazy enough to do something stupid. He gets drunk as a skunk and he truly thinks he's untouchable. I should go into town and stay in the motel there. He might come here and try to hurt everyone."
"You'll stay here...in my room. And I'll do everything in my power to make you forget he ever existed."
Her gaze locked with his. "He really can't touch me ever again?"
His gut twisted as he understood suddenly her fear of the son of a bitch. The man had killed her mother and had gotten away with it. He'd made the whole damn town of Garfield think she was some crazy, suicidal thief, and he'd kept her a virtual prisoner in her own home while he spent the insurance money meant to take care of her mom and her. She was just a bitty little thing and Flint ached to show her tormentor exactly what it felt like to be helpless and afraid for his life.
He suddenly hoped Jacob Proctor would come for a visit. He'd like to give the bastard an El Diablo welcome...
He recalled his dad telling him the story of how his great grandfather had been harassed and threatened by a band of Mexican bandits that spread terror across central Texas, killing settlers, raping and pillaging, and driving off their animals. Jose Calderon had laid claim to the lush green area bisected by spring floods between the Pedernales and the Blanco. He'd run a large herd of longhorns with a few Hereford bulls tossed in, and eventually he was rewarded with a much larger herd of cross bred cattle that could stand the heat, did well on rangeland browsing, and withstood most diseases and droughts.
The banditos had chipped away at his herds, taking hundreds of calves each year, and they had burned his oak barns and even his house...until old Jose decided to corner the outlaws in a blind canyon and pick them off from the ridge above with his old Henry rifle. That particular band of outlaws was never heard from again...and old Jose blamed their demise on the fact that those robbers had crossed El Diablo once too often. Of course, he was referring to the devil, but locals decided to take it that Jose Calderon was the devil they'd crossed...and the name El Diablo had sort of stuck...both on Jose and his ranch.
Flint wasn't too sure where that old box canyon was located, but he had his suspicions, and he'd love to introduce Jacob Proctor to that historic aspect of El Diablo.
Lily opened her eyes to darkness, but that old panic returned with a vengeance. She had insisted on sleeping alone in her own room despite Flint's cajoling and insistence that he would feel better if she slept with him. Now she wished she had allowed him to convince her to sleep in his, because the harsh sound of someone breathing too close to her ear left her petrified with fear.
Before she could say a word or cry out, a rough hand slapped over her mouth, and a too familiar voice rasped in her ear, "Thought ya'd get away
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