Graham finally saw a woman standing on the outskirts of the parking lot, next to a large stallion that had been tied to the wooden fence. The huge horse meant only one thing—Earl McPhee was nearby. Except Earl—all six foot five inches and two hundred and sixty pounds of him—wasn’t just nearby. He was standing in front of Charlie—that was her name!—who was screaming at him, obviously having no idea that she was facing the meanest, cruelest sonofabitch in town. A man that even Boyd Robbins had the good sense to give a wide berth to whenever Earl made one of his rare appearances in town.
Graham muttered a curse and wished he’d had the good sense to stay inside the bar to watch the Kendra-and-Quinn show. Instead, he was about two seconds away from having his ass handed to him on a platter.
“…you have no right to treat this animal that way!” Charlie was screeching at Earl, as Graham reluctantly walked closer. Her breasts were heaving inside the plain white T-shirt she wore, her caramel face was flushed red and her eyes glinted with fire. It was a very inopportune time to notice, but Graham realized that the third Sibley sister was actually decent-looking.
Earl, on the other hand, was even bigger and more frightening than Graham remembered. His forearms were easily the size of most men’s biceps.
“Get out of my way, lady,” Earl growled, towering over her more than the horse did. “That is my horse. I’ll do with him whatever I want.”
“You will not leave this parking lot with this horse,” she responded with such deadly calm that Graham believed her.
Earl, on the other hand, laughed. Or, at least, Graham thought it was a laugh. It sounded so evil that the horse even shuffled his feet in an attempt to get away.
Earl leaned down until he was almost nose to nose with Charlie. “And who is going to stop me? You?”
As Charlie’s eyes widened with fear, something ugly coiled in Graham’s stomach. Graham was not a fighting man. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last fight he had been in, but as Earl towered over Charlie, every one of Graham’s fighting instincts propelled him across the parking lot.
“Charlie, I see you made a new friend,” Graham said, with as much casualness as he could muster, as he inserted himself between Earl and Charlie.
The relieved look she sent in his direction nearly made Graham change his characterization of her from “decent-looking” to “kind of pretty.” He forced himself to turn to Earl, who had impossibly bulked up even more since Graham had crossed the parking lot. He gulped as he remembered whispers years ago about Earl having stabbed a man in a bar fight in Boise.
“Good evening, Earl,” Graham greeted, keeping his tone light. “I haven’t seen you since I’ve been back in town. How have you been?”
Earl growled, “Talk to your woman, Graham. I want my horse, and I want him now.”
“Never,” Charlie retorted, over Graham’s shoulder. She turned to Graham, grabbing his arm. Her grip was a little too tight, but for some reason, Graham didn’t mind. Her eyes were huge and shining in the moonlight as she said, “I saw him…abusing this horse, Graham. He kicked him in the side and then punched him in the face. I will not allow any creature—man or horse—to be abused in my presence. We cannot send this horse home with this monster.”
Graham barely restrained himself from raising his eyebrow at her use of the word we. He also wondered if Charlie should have been the actress, instead of Quinn. She certainly was dramatic enough. Sure, everyone knew that Earl was not the nicest guy around, but even Earl wouldn’t be stupid enough to abuse an animal that he had to rely on for his livelihood.
“Now, Charlie, I’m sure you didn’t see what you thought you saw,” he said, in what he hoped was a soothing voice. “Just give the man back his horse, and we can straighten this all out in the morning. I’m sure Earl would let us come to his ranch and see in the sunlight that this horse has suffered no abuse—”
“Like hell,” Earl spat out, directing his rage at Graham.
Graham was glad that at least Earl was no longer looking like he wanted to throw Charlie across the parking lot. Instead, he looked like he wanted to throw Graham across the parking lot.
Graham focused on Charlie again and fought hard not to be affected by the silent pleading in her eyes. Had any woman ever looked at him like that? Obviously trusting him to do the right thing, to support her?
His hand caressed her cheek before he even realized that he had moved. Her skin was soft. Like a rose petal or something…something really soft. He lowered his voice to a whisper, “It’s his horse, Charlie. We have to give him back.”
Disappointment swam in the depths of her eyes. Graham hesitated. Her disappointment made him hesitate.
“I don’t have time for this,” Earl snarled. “You have five seconds to give me my horse.”
Charlie continued to stare at Graham. Then she bit her bottom lip, chewed on it actually, drawing his attention to how plump and sweet it looked. She looked. That was it. Graham silently cursed again then turned back to Earl.
“Look, Earl, Charlie’s upset and you’re upset. Why don’t we let her take the horse home tonight and, in the morning, I’ll personally deliver him to you. And I’ll throw in a case of beer. Deal?”
Earl’s eyes narrowed with rage. “You’ve spent your whole life trying to talk this town into doing one thing or another, but I’m not falling for it. You don’t control nothing out here, Graham Forbes. I don’t care if you’re on the city council, or if you’re the mayor himself, but I will clean this parking lot with your ass if you don’t get out the way.
“And then after I’ve beaten you into a bloody pulp, I’m going to teach your girlfriend here some manners. I don’t know where you found this one, but you should have taught her that we do things different here in Sibleyville. And little girls do not become involved in grown men’s business.”
Graham stared at Earl for a moment, as anger warred with rage, making him incapable of speech at that moment. He didn’t care that Earl had insulted him. Graham had heard better insults in three different languages. The rage came from the lascivious glare he had sent Charlie when he had talked about teaching her “manners.” If anyone was going to teach Charlie Sibley manners, it was going to be Graham, and he hoped she would love every minute of it.
“You’ve terrorized people in this town long enough.” Graham said, then tried not to laugh at his own canned speech. He had watched one too many Jet Li movies. He could have come up with something a little more clever, or, at least, funny. He didn’t want to get into the first fistfight of his adult life with that corny line hanging in the air.
Charlie’s grip on his arm tightened even more as she rose on her toes to whisper in his ear, “What are you doing? He’ll kill you.”
Graham stopped his glaring contest with Earl and glanced down at her. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“I’ll give him the horse, Graham. I don’t want—”
“You said you would never give him the horse.”
“I know, but I can call the animal cruelty society tomorrow—”
“There is no animal cruelty society out here.”
“Have you conferred with your girlfriend long enough?” Earl demanded, rolling up his shirtsleeves.
Graham turned to Earl and silently cursed again. It was obvious that Earl knew exactly what to do in a fight in a dark parking lot. Graham felt a brief flash of nerves. He had been taking boxing lessons in Tokyo before he had to come to Sibleyville, but he had a feeling that Earl would not pull punches the way the trainer at the exclusive health club