Desperado Read Online Free Page B

as he finished his last bite of egg and biscuit, and Davis walked in yawning. His hat was pushed far back over his red hair and he was neat as a pin, in blue jeansand a short-sleeved checked shirt. He was twenty-seven, years younger than Cord, but he seemed even younger at times. Cord mused that he’d lived through more than Davis probably ever would. It wasn’t the age, didn’t they say, but the mileage that made people old. If he were a used car, he thought, he’d be in a junkyard.
    “I heard you were looking for me last night, boss,” Davis said at once, pulling out a chair to straddle. “Sorry, I had a date.”
    “You always have a date,” Cord muttered, sipping coffee.
    Davis grinned wickedly. “Have to make hay while the sun shines. One day, I’ll be ancient and decrepit like you.”
    Cord’s mouth drew down sardonically. “And I’d just decided to give you a raise!”
    “I’d rather have girls hanging out of my truck,” Davis said, but he grinned again.
    “Never mind. We’ve got problems with that irrigation system again,” he added. “I want you to get that serviceman out there and tell him I want it fixed this time, repaired with new parts, not held together with duct tape and baling wire.”
    “I told him that last time.”
    “Then call the customer service people and tell them to send somebody else. The equipment’s still under warranty,” he added. “If they can’t fix it, they shouldn’t sell it. I want it up and running by tomorrow. Okay?”
    “Okay, boss, I’ll give it my best. But you probably should have a lawyer talk to them about their customer service department. I think they employ robots.”
    Cord stifled a grin. “You took computer courses. Reprogram them.”
    “I’ll get right on it,” Davis said, chuckling. But he didn’t get up. He stared at his boss, hesitating.
    “Something bothering you?” Cord asked bluntly.
    Davis traced a pattern on the back of the wooden chair he was straddling. “Yeah. Something. I promised I wouldn’t tell, but I think you should know.”
    “Know what?” Cord asked absently as he finished his coffee.
    “Miss Barton had a suitcase with her,” he said, noting the sudden attention the older man gave him. “She came straight here from the airport. She was in Morocco. She said it took her three days just to get home. She was dead on her feet.”
    Remembering his cold treatment of her, Cord was shocked. “She was in Morocco? What in hell for?” he burst out.
    “She said she’d just taken a job overseas. She was having a holiday with a girlfriend on the way. She came rushing back to see about you.” The younger man’s eyes became accusing. “She was walking back to Houston with her suitcase when I drove up beside her. I drove her to town.”
    Cord felt the sickness in the pit of his stomach like acid. The expression that washed over his handsome features knocked the outrage right out of Davis’s eyes.
    “Where did you take her?” Cord asked in a subdued tone and without meeting the other man’s gaze.
    “The Lone Star Hotel downtown,” he replied.
    Cord made an awkward movement. “Thanks, Davis,” he said curtly.
    “You bet. I’ll get on that irrigation system,” Davis added as he rose.
    “Do that.” Cord didn’t even see him go. He was reliving that painful few minutes with Maggie. He hadn’t told her that he was hurt because he’d thought she’d waited to come and see about him. He’d assumed that she’d been in town and reluctant to come around him. But she’d come halfway around the world as fast as she could, just to take care of him. He’d misread the whole situation and sent her packing. Now she’d be wounded and angry, and she’d go away again; maybe somewhere that he couldn’t even find her. That hurt.
    He put his head in his hands with a groan. The most painful realization was that she’d taken a job far away. He remembered calling her and going by her apartment without getting an answer in the past