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The Consummate Cowboy
Sara Orwig
THE FORBIDDEN MAN Zach Durham could rustle the orneriest cattle, charm two rambunctious kids… and inspire desire in women who should know better. And Emily Stockton knew better. Her sister's ex-husband was way off-limits… but this flesh-and-blood, taut-muscled, slim-hipped cowboy had her pulse pounding, her heart racing and her mind reeling.She wanted to forget the real reason she'd come to his spread and simply be in his arms, live on his ranch, tend her adorable niece and nephew. But her stay was temporary. She knew it, and Zach knew it. So why was he looking at her like a man in love… like a man who wanted her by his side - forever?
“I Need You,” He Whispered. (#uc2651501-6e4e-56bc-99a7-8d88a2352c83)Letter to Reader (#u259290cf-b1ec-5dab-bed6-5bd1a93e6144)Title Page (#u231898ca-e03f-562d-af8f-ea84fc6c83f7)About the Author (#u9eb3f818-8421-5ee3-9aeb-1fa8b537606f)Acknowledgments (#u97d49194-e080-529b-8b75-3dd59bbbffc7)Prologue (#uf013c414-76f7-51f3-8c6f-bf0129dc5c15)Chapter One (#uc4b6847e-dcc7-50fc-b450-c6d302418d48)Chapter Two (#u30fb4f46-4b90-50c7-ae42-397e5040f914)Chapter Three (#ub861416d-22b3-5911-98c2-d86083d742ff)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
“I Need You,” He Whispered.
Emily looked into his dark eyes and knew that never in her life had she been wanted this way.
“I’m going home tomorrow, Zach.”
“We have tonight,” he answered. He picked her up and carried her to the family room, where he closed the door and slipped the bolt in place.
He eased her down and with a powerful sweep of his arms he yanked off his T-shirt and tossed it aside, muscles rippling. She inhaled deeply. She saw his intention as he bent his head to kiss her, and she did not want to stop him. She sensed the vulnerability in him and she wanted to give to him, to make him feel complete. At the same time, she didn’t want to go home with a broken heart. It was a fleeting thought, whisked away by his fingers and his mouth and his body. This moment she was willing to risk all....
Dear Reader,
August predictably brings long steamy days...and hot sensuous nights. And this month Silhouette Desire spotlights the kind of pure passion that can erupt only in that sizzling summer climate.
Get ready to fall head over heels for August’s MAN OF THE MONTH, a sexy rancher who opens his home (and his heart?) to a lost beauty desperately hoping to recover her memory in A Montana Man by Jackie Merrit. Bestselling author Cait London continues her hugely popular miniseries THE TALLCHIEFS with Rafe Palladin: Man of Secrets. Rafe is an irresistible takeover tycoon with a plan to acquire a Tallchief lady. Barbara McMahon brings readers the second story in her IDENTICAL TWINS! duo—in The Older Man an exuberant young woman is swept up by her love and desire for a tremendously gorgeous, much older man.
Plus, talented Susan Crosby unfolds a story of seduction, revenge and scandal in the continuation of THE LONE WOLVES with His Seductive Revenge. And TEXAS BRIDES are back with The Restless Virgin by Peggy Moreland, the story of an innocent Western lady tired of waiting around for marriage—so she lassos herself one unsuspecting cowboy! And you’ve never seen a hero like The Consummate Cowboy, by Sara Orwig. He’s all man, allaround ornery and all-out tempted...by his ex-wife’s sister!
I know you’ll enjoy reading all six of this sultry month’s brandnew Silhouette Desire novels by some of the most beloved and sexy authors of romance.
Regards,
Melissa Senate
Senior Editor
Silhouette Books
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
Sara Orwig
The Consummate Cowboy
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
SARA ORWIG
is a national bestselling author with six Romantic Times awards, including Love and Laughter and a Career Achievement Award for Contemporary Fiction. Sara’s books have been translated into more than twenty languages, and she loves getting letters from readers around the world. An avid reader, Sara loves her native Oklahoma with its hot summers and gardening opportunities. Jalapeño peppers are the latest specialty that Sara and husband, David, are growing. The yard is filled with plants and the house is filled with books, as well as some people very special to Sara.
Thanks to Pat Froehle and to Debra Robertson
Prologue
“Things cannot get worse,” Emily Stockton said aloud. Later she would remember her foolhardy prediction. She turned off the faucets, stepped out of the shower and wrapped her red hair in a towel. Exhausted from working a ten-hour day at the office of Chicago Charities, she dried quickly and yanked on a short blue cotton nightgown. As she slipped it over her head, she heard the ring of the phone.
“Oh, no!” She could imagine Meg Dodson calling about the adoption they had been working on for weeks. She hurried to the phone and picked up the receiver, bracing for more upheaval and Meg’s panicky voice. An unintelligible and hysterical female voice ran words together.
“Meg? Slow down. I can’t understand you at all.”
“Emily, it’s me—Amber. I’m in desperate trouble. Help me. You’ve got to help me. He’s after me—”
“Amber?” Emily frowned in shock, trying to remember the last time she had talked to her sister. She shook her head, wondering what Amber’s latest predicament was. Her sister had already gone through two husbands and was now married to the third.
“You’ve got to help me. I know you’ll come, but please be careful. If he knows you’re going to help me, you’ll be in danger. I’ve got to get away from him—”
“Who’s him? Raimundo? Zach Durham?” Amber’s current husband and most recent ex seemed the logical possibilities. The first had long ago disappeared from Amber’s life.
“You know how tough Zach is and how he hates me. Stay away from him!”
“Amber, you’re not making sense. Who’s after you?”
“I’ve got to go. I think he’s here. I’m in New Mexico. Up north. I’ll call you—”
The phone clicked, and Emily stared at the receiver. “Damn,” she said, half tempted to hang up, go to bed, and forget all about Amber and her problems. Her sister had been in trouble all of Emily’s life. Yet Amber sounded more frightened than ever before. With a sigh of resignation, Emily knew she would have to do something. No matter what kind of jams her family got themselves into, she always felt compelled to stand by them. She was the youngest member of the family, yet she’d always felt like the oldest.
As she blew dry her hair, pulling the brush through her thick reddish-golden hair, the curls springing back in an annoying tangle, she mulled over Amber’s call. She hadn’t taken a vacation in three years. She could wind up the latest adoption and ask for time off to go to New Mexico and see what help Amber needed. She didn’t know where in northern New Mexico, but she expected another wild call from Amber. And more than likely, the trouble involved Amber’s second husband, Zach Durham, who was a rancher in New Mexico. Otherwise, why would Amber be in that state? The last call Emily had received from her sister had been from Acapulco, where Amber was celebrating her latest marriage to Raimundo Morales. That had been eight months ago. Maybe Raimundo and Zach were fighting over Amber.
Although Emily knew she could use some time off work, she didn’t want to spend it tied up with Amber’s problems. But she also knew she couldn’t ignore Amber’s plea for help. She let out a long sigh.
“Chump,” she grumbled into the empty darkness.
One
How long can someone live after a rattlesnake bite? Emily wondered. It hadn’t happened yet, but she half expected to hear a sinister rattle at any moment or feel fangs sink into her ankle. Now she wished she had worn boots instead of sneakers.
“Ouch!” She bit her lip and yanked her sleeve free from the barbed-wire fence. A perfect place for dying, she thought morbidly. Wind whistled through the regal aspen, their white trunks pale in the July moonlight, as she ignored a No Trespassing sign and climbed between the strands of the fence into a forbidden pasture.
Spruce and aspen cast black shadows across the ground and she could imagine various deadly threats hidden in the darkness. Like snakes. She loathed them. She had also seen pictures of bulls on the property, and prayed there wasn’t one in her vicinity. And out here in the wilds of New Mexico, there could be mountain lions, wild dogs, wild pigs. She preferred the streets of Chicago any night to walking alone here.
Looking back across the fence, she saw her car pulled off the side of the divided highway and parked in the shadows of a spruce.
Remember why you’re here, she reminded herself as she moved cautiously along the fence, heading toward the road that passed through wide, locked gates.
For a quarter of a mile along the highway in either direction from the ranch’s secured gates stretched chain-link fencing. Not a friendly place. A chill ran down Emily’s spine. Zach Durham and the Bar Z ranch were as inviting as a pit of snakes.
She walked swiftly, staying in the shadows, but she felt vulnerable in the darkness. She stayed parallel to the highway, but feared she might be seen from the road. Even more she feared the wild land on her side of the fence.
Too aware of the noise she was making as she moved through high grass toward the ranch road, she tried to bank her dread about what might come out of the shadows. Her back tingled. She was almost there. As soon as she reached the road, she turned away from the locked gates and the highway. The road had to lead to the ranch house—and to Zach Durham.
As the road curved, trees crowded the border. Her feet made soft thuds, and her heart was pounding so loudly that she barely heard her footfalls. She slowed, almost tiptoeing, her palms damp, while she tried to keep her imagination under control.
The night seemed interminable. When she came out of the forest, she was startled by the brightness of the night. A full moon rose high above her, and she almost groaned aloud. She hadn’t given thought to whether it would be a full moon or a new moon. Among the trees, the darkness had been a cover, but in the open, silvery moonlight illuminated the land. Even dressed in a navy long-sleeved T-shirt, jeans and navy sneakers, with her hair tucked under a baseball cap, there would be no hiding beneath the bright beams bathing the earth. With a grim desperation she plunged ahead.
Did the man live at the opposite end of the state? She felt as if she had been walking for hours, yet reason told her it was only a little over an hour since she had pulled her car off the road, locked up, and become a trespasser.
And she worried about the man whose property she was trespassing on. She recalled the comments of the people in the nearby small town of San Luis when she had asked about Zach Durham.
“Zach’s a loner.”
“He keeps to himself.”
“We don’t see much of him.”
Several men mentioned that they’d seen Zach talking to Amber at a bar in town only a week earlier. That same weekend the police had found Amber’s burned, abandoned car, and begun an official search. They’d contacted Emily because her name was found on a slip of paper near the vehicle. The sheriff confirmed what the men had told her. Zach was the last person seen with Amber.
A bird’s clear whistle sounded, a high, melodious note that carried on the whisper of wind through the pines. She could detect the damp smell of spruce, and under other circumstances might have been able to enjoy her surroundings, but at the moment they held a foreboding.
Another quarter of an hour passed before she rounded a bend in the road. Ahead, yellow light shone through the trees. Her pulse jumped. She was close to her destination. Now she wished there had been some way to contact him by phone. His number was unlisted, and she hadn’t been able to pry it out of anybody in town. Uncertainty struck her.
She intended to look at the house, get a peek at him, see if she could discover any reason for Amber to be so fearful, and ascertain her missing sister’s whereabouts. Now in the dead of night, the idea seemed foolish. She wished she had come during broad daylight and confronted him directly. Yet in the light of day when she’d looked at his locked gates and No Trespassing signs, that idea had seemed unsatisfactory.
With a sigh, she moved forward. Now that she was here, she might as well see what she could discover about her reclusive ex-brother-in-law, a man she’d met only once.
She spotted the house tucked among tall spruce and pines and aspen a few yards later. Only two lights shone through windows, both on the ground floor to the rear. Emily wiped her damp palms on her jeans and strode forward. Her heart drummed as she approached the house. It was a tall Victorian structure, forbidding in the night.
She patted the bag she carried, feeling the doggie treats, wondering if treats would hold a ferocious guard dog at bay. Didn’t ranchers always have dogs? She might soon know.
She pulled out the bag of treats, ready to toss them, expecting an animal to charge at any moment Leaving the road, she stayed in the shadows, inching closer to the house. Her heart pounded violently. A twig snapped and she jumped.
Even if Zach Durham was an honest, upstanding citizen, he could shoot her for trespassing, or mistake her for a burglar. If he was not honest and upstanding, the consequences could be worse. But she had to find her sister, and Zach Durham was the last man Amber had mentioned during her frantic phone call. She could remember Amber’s warning about him. Emily wanted to see him, see inside his house, see what she could learn.
She had to cross a stretch of yard that was splashed in moonlight and that looked as bright as daylight. Grimly she rushed across it, flattening herself against the wall of the house, her pulse racing. She listened, fully expecting a shot to ring out or guard dogs to come bounding at her, fangs bared.
Edging along the side of the house, she moved toward the patch where light spilling through the glass illuminated a bright rectangle of ground. Emily reached the window, and turned to peer inside. Even at five-eleven, she had to stand on tiptoe to see anything.
She was looking into an old-fashioned kitchen with glass-fronted cabinets and a round oak table. At the sink stood a bare-chested man in jeans, his back to her. For just a moment she forgot her fear and her mission as she looked at a muscled back that tapered from broad shoulders to a narrow waist and slim hips. Her ex-brother-in-law. The man looked muscular and fit...and dangerous.
She remembered their one brief meeting after Amber’s wedding. Amber had called and announced that she was passing through Chicago on her honeymoon, that the newlyweds wanted Emily to join them for dinner.
Emily remembered a handsome, charming man—but when had Amber ever been with a man who wasn’t handsome, sexy—a hunk?
Emily edged closer to the window and stared at him.
He had thick brown hair with a slight wave. He turned, and she was riveted by the sight of him. His chest was muscled, with a sprinkling of dark hair. His stomach was flat and trim, his jeans riding low on his slender hips. His rugged angular face had a scar along his jaw.
His gaze swept toward the window.
Recovering her wits, she dropped to the ground, her heart pounding, terrified that he might have spotted her. She leaned back against the house to get her breath and then looked inside again.
He picked up two glasses of water.
“Keeps to himself. Him and his kids. Never see ’em or talk to ’em much.” Sheriff Nunez’s words echoed clearly in her mind along with his reasons for not forcing his way into Durham’s house to search it. The sheriff said he had to have just cause for a warrant to search the place. Well, maybe she could convince the sheriff there was just cause for a search.
Emily looked at the tall man holding the glasses of water. Must be for the kids. Her niece and nephew. Curiosity plagued her. She still couldn’t believe Amber had had two babies.
Two babies that Amber had walked away from. Emily felt a stab of remorse. Zach Durham had to have a good side. She prayed he did, and was loving to the children. When Amber had called to tell her she had married husband number three, Emily had asked about Zach and the kids.
“Oh, he’s a great dad. His life centers around those kids. Mine doesn’t. I’m so happy now. I can’t wait for you to meet Raimundo.” And Amber had gone on to talk about her latest husband. Years ago when they were children, Emily had given up trying to understand her sister.
She peeked through the window again. Zach was walking toward a door to what must be a hallway. Her gaze raked again over his lean form. His profile—a firm jaw, prominent cheekbones—was rugged, the planes of his face craggy.
Then he was gone and she could see only the empty kitchen. Where had he gone?
She slipped around the corner of the house and stepped back to look at it. All the windows were dark beyond the kitchen. She tiptoed along, keeping close to the wall, thankful when she reached the shadows of an oak. Everything in her cried to get away, yet she had to find out if Amber was here.
“Don’t move.” The voice was deep, commanding and harsh.
Without thinking, she jumped in fright With a small cry, she spun around.
Something slammed into her. Pain burst in her ribs; she hit the ground and stars danced in front of her eyes. The damp ground was cool beneath her with a faint scent of pine rising from the disturbed needles. As she fell into a patch of moonlight, she looked up. A man straddled her, his fist raised to strike. She was frozen, unable to speak.
His face was in shadow, hers bathed in moonlight. His fist paused, hanging in the air as she looked up at him and saw his dark eyes staring down at her.
When she locked gazes with him, something unexplainable happened. Tension arced between them. She could all but hear the air crackling with electricity as the moment changed. Her heart thudded, but no longer in fear. She became aware of every inch of him that touched her—his thighs pressed against her sides, his hand on her shoulder. His chest was even more impressive up close, the contours of his muscles highlighted by moonlight.
And he seemed caught in the same stunned suspension. His eyes searched hers and he remained immobile.
Even though she felt vulnerable, a flicker of curiosity about him flared to life and built within her. She stared up at him. Maybe it was his primal urge to defend his home and family that terrified her and at the same time drew her to him.
He lowered his hand slowly to splay his fingers on his thigh. Her gaze followed his hand, and she couldn’t resist looking at the fly of his jeans, the taut pull of the worn material over his thigh. Her gaze flew back up to meet his fierce scowl. The magic moment that had danced between them like snow crystals was gone.
“Why are you looking in my windows?”
She could hear the rage in his bass voice. “I had car trouble,” she said, realizing he must not remember meeting her. “I’m Amber’s sister.”
His eyes narrowed while he studied her. In one swift movement that revealed how fit he was, he stood and pulled her to her feet. “Come inside,” he said, holding her arm and jerking his head toward the door.
Hurrying to keep pace with him, she stretched out her legs. Her ribs ached from his tackling her, and her heart pounded with fear. Her baseball cap was gone and her hair was coming unpinned, locks curling around her face.
They went up the steps and crossed the porch, then he led her into the house. Watching her, he locked the door. His hand closed around her arm as he drew her into a room and shut that door, too. Despite her consciousness of the man beside her, she took in a room with bookshelves, a large fireplace, a navy leather sofa, Navaho rugs and beamed ceilings.
He turned to her and his fingers wound in her hair. Pins went flying from her scalp as he tilted her head so he could look into her face.
She gazed into brown eyes so dark they were endless pools of blackness, eyes that held fires of rage in their depths. Her heart pounded because there was no mistaking his fury, and he looked capable of violence.
“Let go of me,” she said, hoping she sounded calmer than she felt.
Angry and surprised, Zach stared down into wide eyes, framed by a riot of red curls that tumbled down the back of this intruder’s neck. With a stirring of memory, he studied her crystal green eyes, straight nose, slightly pointed chin, prominent cheekbones. Besides their long ago meeting, she looked incredibly familiar. Another face flitted to mind—his daughter’s. With her tangle of red curls and big green eyes, her freckled nose and little pointed chin, his daughter could belong to this woman.
“You’re my ex-brother-in-law,” Emily said in a whispery voice, as if desperately emphasizing their relationship.
He could see the vein in her throat and knew her pulse was racing. Anger mushroomed in him. He didn’t want anything to do with his ex-wife—or her sister.
“Damn it, what kind of game are you playing? What do you want?”
Emily’s heart thudded. His dark gaze was intense, and in her peripheral vision she was too aware of his bare chest and broad shoulders, the faint hint of stubble on his jaw. She could detect the scent of aftershave.
And as she stood looking up at him, tension pulled at her again, making her feel as if the air between them crackled. She felt drawn into his midnight eyes, tumbling into a blackness that carried her on a swift current to an unknown destination. He stood too close and he was too bare. Too virile. When his gaze shifted to her mouth, she couldn’t get her breath. She was reacting to him as a man—something she didn’t want to do and couldn’t recall ever having done so intensely before. In her well-ordered life, there were no moments of irrational, unwanted attraction.
“What in the hell were you doing creeping around my house in the dead of night?” His words broke the spell, jolting her and reminding her that she might be in danger. His hand relaxed in her hair, and her head was no longer pulled back, yet she continued to gaze up at him, locked in his compelling stare.
“I’m looking for Amber,” she answered, her voice sounding faint and breathless. Amber’s men were probably as unpredictable as was Amber. They could run to violence but that had never kept Amber from flirting with them—or even marrying them. Emily wished desperately she were back in Chicago, safe in her own apartment. Yet in spite of her sense of danger, she was intensely aware of Zach as a strong, sexy male.
His hand shifted to her jaw and she noticed the warmth of his fingers. “You could get hurt badly. Didn’t you see my No Trespassing signs?”
“Yes,” she whispered as he looked at her mouth again. Just a look and her lips tingled and parted. “You were the last person seen with my sister,” she said breathlessly, trying to think about something besides his dark eyes and masculine mouth. “Amber was here, in the Red Rocket Bar a week ago Saturday night.”
The tenseness left his shoulders, but pinpoints of anger still danced in his eyes.
“Are you carrying a gun?”
“No,” she answered.
He inhaled, his broad chest expanding. Then he stepped away. “Why didn’t you just call me? We’re not complete strangers.”
“To all practical purposes, we are. One brief dinner together doesn’t constitute family ties. Besides, your number is unlisted. Zach, I need to find my sister, and I was willing to do anything to get the answers.”
“I could have shot you for trespassing.”
He sounded disgusted and moved away from her, turning to stare at her with his hands on his hips. It was difficult to keep her gaze on his face; his bare chest was impossible to ignore. She realized it must have been a long time since she had seen a man’s chest. It had definitely been a long time since she had seen muscles like his.
“I don’t know where your sister is. We parted ways a long time ago and haven’t kept in touch. She doesn’t come to see her children or write to them or call them.” The last was said with bitterness and a hint of accusation, as if Emily, too, were guilty of neglecting them.
“She was here and talked to you a week ago.”
“She came into the bar while I was there. I didn’t know she was in the state. I talked to her, but I didn’t leave with her. I didn’t even see her leave. We just talked, that’s all. And when I asked her if she would see the children, she said she might the next day.”
Something thumped above them, and Emily looked up.
“That’s my daughter or son.”
“My niece or nephew.”
“Give me a break,” he said with unmistakable disgust. “You’ve never seen them or talked to them or written them.”
“I did write when they were born, and Amber never answered. You and Amber divorced when they were babies. You know Amber and I weren’t close. She never invited me to see them and neither have you!”
He waved his hand to stop her excuses. Her gaze wavered and flicked down over him. The knees of his jeans were wet and had smudges of damp earth from their encounter outside.
“Where’s your car?” he asked.
“Up on the road.”
“That was damn foolhardy.”
“Amber called me a week ago and she sounded terrified of someone.”
“So you decided it was me?” he asked, arching a dark eyebrow, disgust returning to his voice.
“She was in this area—why else would she be here?”
“Your sister is totally unpredictable. I saw her only briefly and she didn’t tell me about any plans. And she didn’t act afraid of anything. Far from it. She was flirting and having her usual good time.”
Zach knew he sounded bitter. Amber was a tall, dropdead gorgeous blonde and he had fallen for her, marrying her within a month of meeting her. They had married in Las Vegas, spent two nights there, flown to New York and spent a week there. On the way home they had stopped in Chicago and had had dinner with the sister. He barely remembered Emily because at the time he only had eyes for Amber. The honeymoon had lasted until she discovered she was pregnant and then she had thrown a screaming fit, telling him she was getting an abortion. He had talked her out of it. Zach drew a deep breath. Every thought about Amber stung. Anger burned, flickering between fury at himself for being so blind, and rage at Amber for her attitude toward her children.
And he only half believed the sister. He didn’t know what she was up to. When Amber had sashayed into the bar last week, she hadn’t acted frightened. He remembered her sitting next to him, flirting as her hand played over his thigh. Even though she wore Husband Number Three’s wedding ring, Zach knew he could have brought her home to his bed. She would have stayed a while, grown restless again, especially with the children, and gone on her way. He didn’t intend to fall into that trap again, or to let her get the children’s hopes up—only to disappoint them again.
“Did she tell you anything about another man?” Emily asked, bringing his thoughts back to her.
Zach shook his head, knowing he was being uncooperative. But he had been badly hurt by Amber. And he blamed himself for being such a fool over her and letting his body rule his mind and heart. The woman was shallow and selfish, and he should have seen it clearly.
He didn’t want to deal with her sister, either. He wanted to get her out of his house and send her on her way. He wasn’t concerned with this woman’s problems. Let her search for her sister. Never again did he want to be involved with Amber.
And all the time he was angrily deciding to get rid of her, Emily’s big green eyes tugged at him. In spite of the pull, he intended to stay out of it—even though it was obvious she didn’t know the first thing about searching for a missing person.
“Did you see her with any other man?”
“She talked to other guys. That’s the last I remember.”
Feeling defeated and frustrated, Emily stared at Zach. Something didn’t seem right about him. He was a rancher, yet he kept to himself. She had always thought ranchers were friendly people. But Zach kept the road to his house fenced and locked.
“I tackled you pretty hard,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “In the dark, I thought you were a man.”
“That comes from being almost six feet tall,” she remarked dryly.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded, touching ribs that ached badly. “A little sore.”
“I’ll get the kids, and we’ll drive you back to your car. You shouldn’t have left it on the highway.”
“Don’t wake them at this hour. I can walk back.”
“No, you can’t. I think they’re awake, anyway. I’ll go see.”
“Isn’t it late for little children to be awake?”
“They went to bed a long time ago. They woke up and wanted drinks of water. Since my divorce, they don’t sleep well. If they’re asleep again, I’ll carry them down.”
“May I come see them?”
He glanced at her, seeing the uncertainty in her expression. He knew Amber’s moods and the chronic liar and actress that she was. He suspected the sister was the same, and wondered if she was trying to soften him up. She couldn’t give a damn about the children because she knew nothing about them.
“I suppose.” He leveled a look at her that made her draw a shaky breath.
Emily felt anger and dislike radiate from him like heat from a wood stove. “You don’t even know me, yet you dislike me.”
He had started toward the hall. He stopped and swung around. “I know you’re Amber’s sister. You’re blood kin. Your sister is coldhearted, completely wrapped up in herself. There are two little children upstairs that have been hurt damnably by her.”
He left the room and Emily trailed behind him, watching the play of muscles in his back. She was stunned by his anger. She couldn’t argue with him. And she suspected that this man had been as badly hurt as the two children.
As she walked beside him into the hall, she was aware of his height. She was nearly six feet tall, yet he was taller than she by a good seven or eight inches.
“Why aren’t the police searching for Amber?” he asked as they climbed the stairs.
“They have started searching,” she replied. “Last weekend they found her car abandoned and burned.”
Zach frowned. “I saw that car on the television news, but it didn’t say anything about Amber.” And in the numerous times Zach had spoken with Nunez about Amber, the sheriff never once mentioned the burned-out car or that Amber was considered a missing person.
“They found my name on a slip of paper that was in the grass near the car. They called me before they were absolutely sure it was her car.”
“I can’t imagine your sister isn’t somewhere doing exactly what she wants. On the other hand, maybe she finally went too far with someone.”
“I’m worried about her. She sounded terrified when she called me.”
He shrugged and continued up the steps in silence. At the top of the stairs, he motioned toward an open door. As they entered, she heard a thumping. Zach switched on another light that revealed a black retriever sprawled on the floor, his tail thumping loudly. The dog got to its feet and crossed the room toward them.
“This is Tiger.”
“I was afraid of a watchdog.”
“Yeah, well, this is one of them—and he’s as tough as vanilla pudding.”
She scratched the dog’s head and followed Zach across the room to a narrow child’s bed that had a play castle as a headboard. He leaned over the bed and Emily reached out to grasp his arm. The instant her fingers closed around his muscled forearm, she felt an acute awareness of him. “Don’t wake her,” she whispered. “I can walk to my car.”
His eyes narrowed as he looked at her hand and then at her.
Emily’s gaze ran past him to the child, and she forgot the man.
“Oh, great saints,” she whispered and moved closer, forgetting Zach Durham’s existence as she looked at the hauntingly familiar sleeping child.
Two
Zach stared at Emily. Her face paled and she moved closer, brushing against him as she leaned over the bed. He looked from her to his sleeping baby and he knew why she was stunned. The child looked like her child. Two heads of red ringlets caught the light and reflected gold in their depths. Two pairs of eyes were fringed with thick, auburn lashes. Two straight noses were sprinkled with freckles. And he knew if Rebecca opened her eyes, they would match the green of Emily’s.
Amber had been a natural redhead, but she had always kept her hair dyed blond. And it was straight, bearing little resemblance to Rebecca’s curls.
Zach watched Emily reach out to touch one of those cuds, letting it wind around her finger. He frowned and studied her, remembering the times Amber had played him for a fool with her lying. Did the sister really feel moved by the sight of her niece, or was this some ploy?
She stepped closer, and he wondered whether she was aware of his existence. As he stared at her, he fought a strange battle with his emotions. He didn’t want to soften his feelings toward her. She was Amber’s sister! Yet he couldn’t help feeling less hostile toward her as she stared at Rebecca. Tears glistened in Emily’s eyes, and he watched her swipe her hand across her face.
If she was so moved by the sight of her niece, why hadn’t she written or contacted them? Yet already he knew the answer. Amber kept no ties to anyone. He knew almost nothing about Amber’s family except that the father was in prison for robbery.
He walked to the center of the room and waited until Emily turned from the bed. Her face was pale and her expression was forlorn as if she had just lost something valuable. He had a ridiculous urge to wrap his arms around her and tell her she could stay and get to know Rebecca.
He shook off the impulse. “You can stay here tonight and we’ll take you to your car in the morning,” he said, wondering if even this gesture was a sign that he had lost his wits.
“Oh, no! I don’t want to put you out. It wasn’t that bad a walk. I really don’t mind.”
“We have plenty of room here,” he said, realizing she didn’t want to stay any more than he wanted to have her. “Either you stay or I wake them.”
She bit her lip as if torn and glanced back at Rebecca. “I’ll stay. Please don’t wake them. May I see Jason, too?”
“Sure,” he answered, realizing there were things she probably wanted to know about her sister—things he didn’t want to get into right now.
“Don’t turn the light on in his room. The hall light will be enough,” she said.
“Nothing except bad dreams will wake them. They can sleep through storms, noise, light.” He crossed the hall with her at his side and switched the light on in another small bedroom. Two fuzzy mutts blinked sleepy eyes and wagged their tails.
“The dogs are Tater and Spot.”
Barely noticing the small dogs, Emily crossed the room to a narrow, four-poster bed. She leaned over it and looked at the sleeping three year old. The little boy had a mass of brown ringlets, the same freckled nose, the same pointy chin. Again shocked by the unmistakable resemblance, Emily moved closer, lost in thought.
How could Amber have run away and left them behind? Emily glanced over her shoulder at Zach, who lounged in the doorway and watched her. Was he to blame?
Emily felt a pang. She had never expected to have marriage, a husband, or children in her life. God knows, her family genes should not be passed on to another generation. Or so she had always thought—these two little children carried those genes and they looked sweet, innocent and adorable.
How could Amber have left them? The question tore at Emily again. It had to be Zach. No mother would willingly leave such angels—not even Amber, though she had never taken responsibility for anything in her life.
Zach turned and motioned toward the door. Emily tiptoed out while his boot heels scraped the floor with each step.
“The dogs stay up here?”
“They won’t leave those kids.” He changed the subject. “Let’s get something to drink. I have ice tea, coffee, milk or beer.”
“Tea’s fine,” she said, then lapsed into silence. Zach wanted some answers from her and he knew there were things he should tell her. Sheriff Nunez was a closemouthed, noncommunicative man and must not have said much to her about Amber. Nunez hadn’t even told him everything the police knew. And the sheriff certainly hadn’t mentioned talking to Emily.
Zach switched on the light in the kitchen. As soon as Emily stepped inside, he turned to face her, blocking her path. “Before I get drinks, let’s talk.”
“Sure,” Emily replied, puzzled, wondering whether there was something about Amber she didn’t know. Was he going to tell her?
Zach placed his hands against the wall on each side of her, hemming her in, moving in too close. She could feel the warmth of his body, smell his hair. The determination in his eyes made her want to duck and run.
“You said you came looking for your sister. I think you ought to tell me more about it. Amber could be involved in anything with anybody. She wasn’t very discriminating. You may be in danger, too. You may have led someone to us and put us both in danger.”
Startled by his remarks, Emily frowned. “You’re standing too close.”
“Yeah, I am. I want some answers from you.” His direct gaze disturbed her, and she was again acutely conscious of him. The urge increased to push past him, but there was a forcefulness about him that held her immobile. And something more held her in place; her heart raced with a visceral awareness of his appeal as a male.
“I don’t see how I can be in danger or bring any jeopardy to you. No one is interested in me. And if someone is after my sister, I haven’t had any contact with her since the one phone call—and no one could know about that.” Emily answered in a clipped tone, annoyed that she was responding to him in an elemental way.
Zach gazed down into thickly lashed green eyes that were wide and guileless. He had told himself over and over to stay out of her problems. He didn’t need more worries. He had the children’s safety to think about. He didn’t need to take someone else under his wing. And never would he want to be involved with anyone who had the slightest connection to Amber. Stop questioning her, he scolded himself. Take the woman to her car in the morning, get her to the nearest motel and tell her goodbye.
And maybe he had developed a gut instinct for trouble. Somehow he felt she might jeopardize his life and the children’s. If Amber was involved with the wrong people, Emily could place herself in peril by asking questions about her sister. He didn’t want any part of the problem. He had no interest in seeing Amber again. He was starting to get his own life together, trying to get some stability into the lives of the kids. The last thing he needed was to bring danger to them. He looked down into innocent eyes and caught a scent of lilacs and spring flowers.
“I have to try to find Amber,” she said.
“You could get hurt badly—” he seemed to have a thought “—when did you get here?”
“I took time off work and drove. This afternoon I arrived in San Luis, met with Sheriff Nunez and talked to people in town. Why?”
“I just wanted to know who you’ve talked to, what you might have stirred up. If someone was following you, you wouldn’t know it.”
“Why would anyone follow me?”
“You don’t know what your sister was involved in.”
“No, I don’t.”
Satisfied with her answers, he moved away and got a pitcher of tea from the fridge. He poured it over ice in a tall glass and handed it to her. “Sugar or lemon?”
“No, thanks,” she answered in a subdued voice, watching him warily. He knew she was afraid of him and that suited him fine. He didn’t want to get too close to her. Drink a beer and go to bed and get rid of her in the morning, he silently told himself again.
But should he tell her about Jason? It was only a matter of time until she learned the truth.
Zach uncapped the beer, grabbed a chair and sat down facing her. She wasn’t the knockout beauty her sister was, but Emily was pretty. And she was sexy. He suspected she didn’t realize the latter, but he could feel electricity between them when he got close to her.
Amber had been incredibly sexy, but she had known it and flaunted it. He remembered seeing her last week in the bar in her low-cut, clinging red blouse, dyed blond hair piled high on her head, pouty lips. No man would forget her. Damn few could resist her. Heaven knows, he hadn’t been able to. But that was a long time ago.
He took a drink and then lowered the bottle, glancing across the table into Emily’s eyes. He was ensnared. She didn’t have the faintest idea how to search for her missing sister, and she didn’t seem to believe him about the danger.
Leave it alone, he reminded himself. Yet her eyes were focused on him with an intentness that made him uneasy. She might get hurt and that worried him—and it annoyed the hell out of him that it worried him.
“You’re not married?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Regular guy in your life?”
“No, there’s not.”
“I find that a little hard to believe.”
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—I’m entirely different from my sister. I don’t date a lot. I’m very busy with my work.”
“Where do you work?” he asked, thinking about what she had just told him. She didn’t date, hadn’t dated much. In spite of her direct gaze and sincere tone, he didn’t believe her. She was too poised, attractive and sexy to spend evenings alone.
“I work for Chicago Charities. It’s a privately funded organization that does charity work for families. We provide counseling, handle adoptions, and maintain a home for battered women. We work closely with city agencies.”
Zach stared at her, realizing she had been telling the truth when she insisted that she was different from her sister. Amber could never have held a job like the one Emily just described, nor would Amber want to. He began to see Emily in a whole new light. And he realized how dangerous that might be. The last thing on earth he wanted to feel was an attraction to a relative of Amber’s. His ex-sister-in-law, for Pete’s sake!
“Your title?”
“I’m executive director and I oversee the counseling, decide which families we will help, work on the adoptions, check on the women who are in the shelter. The executive committee and I decide how the money will be dispensed when there is a catastrophe and donations come in.” She added, “I love my work.”
He could imagine her in the kind of job she described. She looked soft, caring. A small light above the sink was the only illumination and it made a halo of her red-gold hair. Locks of it were still pinned to her head, but tendrils had fallen and curled around her face. He imagined all of it free and tumbling loosely over her shoulders.
“What did you do—take a few days off?”
“Yes. I haven’t taken a vacation since I started working there, so I have a lot of time coming—more than I plan to take.”
She looked much younger than Amber, he found himself thinking. At first he would have guessed Emily’s age at about twenty-three, but she had to be older to hold the job she described. He took another drink of beer. Stay out of her problems and get her on her way home, he reminded himself. His gaze swung back to her and worry was plain in her expression as she bit her lip and gazed beyond him.
He needed to avoid her dilemma, to keep to himself—to build a home and a haven. He had a ranch to run. And there was already a crowd. He had the two kids to protect and care for. And there was the retriever he had found near the highway. Plus the two mutts that had been abandoned, and the cat that had appeared from nowhere. He thought about Nessie who stayed with the children. He didn’t need to take another living thing under his roof, especially one so desirable.
“There’s a possibility your sister is with someone of her own choosing. She didn’t act like a frightened woman when I talked to her. Or like a woman on the run.” Before Amber had sat down beside him, he had seen her flirting with other men in the bar. “My advice would be to go home and wait a while. She’ll call. Believe me, she wasn’t frightened that night. Far from it. She was having a good time.” He felt like swearing as Emily’s dainty chin raised defiantly and her eyes blazed with determination.
“I talked to the bartender at the Red Rocket,” she said, “and he gave me a list of names of men who were there that night or who frequent the place. I want to ask them about Amber.” She ran her fingers across her forehead. “Do you have aspirin? My head is pounding.”
He stood and crossed to a cabinet to get a small bottle and bring it back to her. As she shook out two aspirin and took them, he pulled his chair around the table. “Turn around. I’ll massage your neck. Sometimes that works better than aspirin for a headache.”
After a momentary hesitation, she turned her back to him.
He spread his legs and moved his chair close behind her, again catching the faint scent of flowers in her perfume. Wisps of red hair curled against her nape as he began to massage her neck. He could feel the tension in her shoulders. Her bones felt delicate and as he kneaded her shoulders, she leaned her head forward and began to relax. Her flesh beneath his hands was warm and soft. He wanted to touch her, and he knew he was playing with fire by doing so. He removed a remaining pin from her hair and the last locks tumbled down.
She turned to slant him a frown over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Relax,” he said, amused that she was so bristly. “I’m giving you a massage. You feel better already, don’t you?”
She turned around without answering. He worked his hands into her hair, rubbing her scalp, massaging her slender neck. As he stroked her head, he heard a soft murmur from her, and a few minutes later a long, pleased sigh. With every sound of satisfaction she made, he felt his temperature rise. She wiggled slightly beneath his touch, stretching her back.
He worked his hands down her back until she twisted away from him.
“I hurt on my side.”
“From my tackle?” he asked, feeling a stab of guilt for being so rough with her.
“Yes,” she said, touching the ribs on her right side lightly.
“Does it hurt to take a deep breath?”
“A little.”
“Maybe I should take you to an emergency—”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, her voice becoming softer as his hands moved across her shoulders and neck. “That does feel good. And the aspirin is working.”
“Good,” he said. She was responding to his massage like a cat being stroked. What would it be like to kiss her? he wondered. The moment the question arose, he closed his mind to speculation. Stay away from the lady, he silently reprimanded. He ought to get up, move and put the table between them. Instead, he continued to massage her slender shoulders even while silently lecturing himself on the dangers of becoming involved.
“Do you have the list of names you got from the bartender?”
Shifting to one side, she pulled a paper out of her jeans hip pocket. He couldn’t help noticing the material pulled tautly across her round backside. He took the list she handed to him. Spreading it on the table, he looked at the neat printing. As he went back to massaging her neck, he scanned the page and frowned. “I know a few of these men. Some are trouble. Two are ex-cons. You ought to leave them alone.”
“It’s the only lead I have to her. Besides you.” She moved away and turned her chair, twisting to face him. “You can stop now.”
He wanted to keep on touching her. He was so caught up in kids and day-to-day ranch life that he couldn’t recall the last time he’d been alone with an appealing woman. The last time he’d been close to one, touched one. Too damn long and too dangerous to think about now.
“Thanks so much. I feel better,” she added.
“Always happy to oblige a lady,” he answered lightly.
Her eyes twinkled, and she flashed him a smile. Startled by the change in her, he was dazzled. She had a dimple in her left cheek, and for just a moment worry vanished from her expression. It was like a flash of sunshine on the cloudiest day, and he warmed to it instinctively. “So your opinion of me has improved a notch,” she said in a teasing voice.
He couldn’t resist leaning closer and looking directly into her eyes. “It’s improved enough to scare the hell out of me. Your job is impressive,” he added quickly, wanting to change the subject after his blunt, truthful answer to her. “You’re here searching for your sister, which is more than she would do if you had called her.” He moved to the other side of the table again, feeling he needed the barrier between them.
“I have to do what I have to do. I haven’t ever been able to ignore my family. Someone has to look after them.”
He wondered about her because she seemed exactly what she professed to be—a woman entirely different from Amber. Yet there had to be similarities. His thoughts slid to Jason. He needed to tell Emily about Jason, but that was a subject he had never liked to discuss. “Keep in mind that your sister could have left the Red Rocket with some man and be in California or Mexico by now. I still think you ought to go home and leave the search to the lawmen. Or hire a P.L”
“I can’t do that. I can’t sit idly by. I’ve always stood by my family. Someone has to.”
He felt another clash of wills. Anger pierced him. He reached across the table and retrieved his beer, tilting it to take a drink. He looked at her full lips. She said she didn’t date often. What did the woman do—hibernate? Whatever she did, she needed to go home now.
“Don’t go see those men.”
“I’m not accustomed to taking orders from strangers,” Emily replied, annoyed with his dictatorial attitude.
“Maybe you don’t like taking orders from anybody. You could easily put yourself in jeopardy. You’re out of your element in this part of the country.”
“I suppose I am, but I need to get some answers. And that includes questions about you.” Emily wondered about Zach and his ranch. Sheriff Nunez said Zach had inherited his ranch, which meant his family had roots in the area that went way back. He was no stranger to the people here, so why the reclusiveness? She thought about the locked gates and barbed wire and chain-link fencing, and about his standoffishness with neighbors.
“Why are you locked in? Isn’t that a little unusual for a rancher?”
“It gives me a feeling of security with the kids.”
She wondered about his answer—which really wasn’t an answer. The man seemed shut in his own world with a high fence around himself. Was he hiding from something—or someone? Emily started to ask him.
A small cry came from the doorway and they turned. Rebecca stood in the door, a tear on her cheek, her eyes sleep-filled and her expression forlorn. She wore pink pajamas with lace trim and teddy bears dancing over them, and her small feet were bare. She held a worn teddy in her arms and pulled a frayed, small blanket behind her. “Daddy?” Her lower lip was thrust out.
“Come here, baby,” Zach said softly, and she crossed the room to him.
Her question forgotten, Emily stared at Zach, amazed by the transformation in him. All the harshness about him seemed to fall away. He softened into a gentle, appealing man as he spoke tenderly to the little girl. At that moment he looked completely trustworthy and gentle. And vulnerable. Then he glanced around, and she looked into his dark eyes—and the feeling of danger returned. His shuttered look made her feel that he wanted to be alone.
Emily’s gaze went to Rebecca and she was again astounded. She could see a resemblance to her own childhood pictures, a resemblance to herself now. If Rebecca saw any similarity, it was of no significance to her. She glanced briefly at Emily, then went straight to Zach and reached up. He swung her into his lap and she snuggled against him while he cradled her in his arms.
“Did you have a dream?”
She nodded.
“We have company, Rebecca. This is your Aunt Emily. Aunt Emily, this is Rebecca, who is now four years old.”
Rebecca looked around and Emily felt the direct, assessing stare of the child.
Emily smiled. “Hi, Rebecca,” she said softly.
Rebecca blinked, tightened her lips, and turned her head against Zach, burying her face against his chest. She pulled her blanket up to hold it close.
Zach stroked her hair gently, and Emily was amazed again by the change in him. She was beginning to wonder what had possessed him to many Amber, but then all she had to do was think about Amber. Men were always dazzled by her. All men. Zach looked as red-blooded as they came.
“Sometimes she has bad dreams,” he said quietly, his breath blowing against wisps of Rebecca’s red curls.
“What do you do about the children during the day when you work?”
“I hired a woman to help with the kids. She lives in a small house on the ranch. During the week and on Saturday morning she stays until I get home. Vanessa Galban. The kids call her Nessie.”
“Then do you take care of them on Saturdays and Sundays?”
“Don’t sound so amazed.”
Embarrassed, she shrugged and looked down at Rebecca in his arms. “She’s asleep.”
“She’s a restless little sleeper.” He raised his head to look at Emily. “I’ll take her back to her bed. There’s an extra bedroom. You’ll have to wait while I make up the bed, but you can have that room.”
“Just give me the sheets and I’ll make the bed,” Emily said. She stood and carried her glass and his bottle to the counter. “I’ll get the light.”
He shifted Rebecca in his arms and went to check the lock on the back door. He switched on an alarm and then turned to join her.
“You’re careful,” she said.
“Not careful enough. If I had been on my guard, you wouldn’t have gotten so close to the house. I have yard lights, but I stopped bothering to turn them on at night. I’ll go back to it, now.”
“You’re worried about prowlers?”
“You should be more careful,” he said, avoiding an answer to her question and coming to stand only inches from her. She could detect the faint smell of beer on his breath. “You don’t know what your sister is involved in. I still think you should go home to Chicago in the morning.”
“No, I can’t.”
He shook his head and turned for the hallway. “Come on. I’ll put Rebecca in bed and get your sheets.” As he started out of the room, Emily picked up the scrap of paper the bartender had given her, then switched off the kitchen light.
Leaving Emily waiting in the upstairs hall, Zach carried Rebecca to bed. Then he returned to remove sheets from a linen closet, and directed her to a bedroom. Switching on the lights, he moved to the four-poster queen-size bed. Emily glanced around a room that held a hodgepodge of furnishings, a bookcase filled with books, a cedar chest, an armoire, a small chest, and a rocker.
“Unfortunately, this is an old house. There are only two bathrooms here—a small one connecting Becky’s and Jason’s rooms, and a big bathroom connecting my bedroom and this room. You can lock the doors when you’re in it.”
“I’ll manage.”
“I’m sure you always do,” he said quietly, looking down at her. Her head came up. He touched the tip of her nose lightly with his finger. “You look like the capable type.”
“I’ve had to be. I’ll make up the bed.”
“Here,” he said, flipping back a comforter. “We can both get it made in half the time.” He snapped a fitted cover over the corner of the bed, while she bent to fit the opposite corner. They worked together efficiently. But she had to make an effort to concentrate on the sheets, and ignore the flex and play of his muscles as he bent and stretched. In minutes the bed was done.
“I’ll get you one of my shirts. It ought to make a good enough nightshirt.”
He strode through the bathroom door and in seconds was back to toss a chambray shirt on the bed. “I think I can find a new toothbrush. It might be a child’s size because I keep extra for the kids. There’s a cabinet in the bathroom with towels and washcloths. Help yourself.” He crossed the room to face her. “It will be bedlam in the morning when the kids are up. For the last time I’ll say it—you should get in your car first thing and go home to Chicago.”
She shook her head.
“Stubborn green eyes,” he said quietly, looking down at her. She stared at him intently, and he felt as if he were sinking in quicksand. With every word he was getting more involved in her life. “If you have to look for her, hire a P.L”
“I have to do this myself. I can’t go home without knowing something, or at least trying my best to find out where she is.”
He shook his head and started toward the bathroom.
“Zach,” Emily said quietly, her curiosity about him returning. “You live behind locked gates and high fences. People in town say you keep to yourself. You have an alarm and yard lights. Are you hiding from someone? Is there anyone who would hurt Amber to get at you?”
Zach clamped his lips together and turned back toward her. She felt her insides tighten, felt a premonition of disaster. She almost wished she could take back her question. He looked grim, as if he were holding in check the smoldering anger she had first seen in his eyes.
“Sooner or later, I knew I would have to tell you.”
Three
“Jason is not my son.”
“What?” Emily stared at him, thinking about the little boy who looked like her own child. “Except for his brown hair, he looks exactly like Rebecca.”
“They have the same mother. Your sister had an affair with another man.”
“Great saints,” Emily said, closing her eyes. She looked at Zach, who gazed at her with impassive eyes. Yet a muscle worked in his jaw and she knew every word hurt him.
“There are rumors in town and I’m sure people know who Jason’s father is. But I love Jason. I’m raising him as my son and claiming him as my son.”
“That doesn’t explain the locked gates.”
“Amber had an affair with Stoney Fogg. The Foggs are no-good, worthless, boozing troublemakers. Never big trouble—moonshine, petty theft. They’re chronically unemployed, lazy. Old man Fogg and his wife regularly beat each other up. He’s a drunkard. When Amber had the affair with Stoney, she and I had already stopped living together as man and wife. She was bored. If she hadn’t gotten pregnant, she would have left me sooner.”
Zach raked his fingers through his hair, the strands springing back and some locks falling across his forehead. “She and Stoney had a wild, rocky relationship. When he learned she was pregnant, he didn’t want any part of the baby and left town. Later, after Jason was over a year old, Stoney came back and he and Amber ran away.”
Emily gave a small cry and rubbed a hand across her eyes. Zach was startled. He frowned, wondering whether she was acting for his benefit.
“You should know your sister by now—and not be surprised,” he snapped.
Her head came up. “She’s so casual about what I hold sacred. I’ll never have children and it hurts to hear about Amber’s coldness toward her own.” She drew herself up. “Go on. I interrupted you.”
“I divorced her,” he answered, only half thinking about what he was saying. Emily had said she could never have children. He wondered why. “Later Stoney came home without Amber. She never married him, and I heard she married someone in Mexico.”
“She did. This past year she called and said she was Mrs. Raimundo Morales.”
“Yeah, well, last year, Stoney decided he wanted his son. I don’t think he wanted Jason as much as he wanted to aggravate me. Stoney and I have crossed paths before, and I once caught him with Amber. We fought and I took Amber home.”
Emily sat on the rocker. She suspected Zach’s statement “I took Amber home” covered the fact that he’d whipped Stoney Fogg badly.
How could Amber have been so irresponsible? Yet Emily knew the answer to her own question. Amber had always been irresponsible. Emily hurt for Zach. He was impassive; his voice was devoid of emotion, which was even more of an indication that he was fighting his hurt over Jason. And probably his hurt over Amber. He must still be terribly in love with her, in spite of his anger.
“I told Stoney he would never have Jason. No court in the country would allow it and he knows it. But knowing him, he wouldn’t try through the legal system. All he knows is to steal what he wants.”
“Then the fences and alarms are to keep him from getting Jason?”
“Yes. I work all over this ranch and I worry about that thug getting on the property and taking Jason. He might take Rebecca, too, just because she’s there. Stoney doesn’t think rationally.”
“Is Stoney angry with Amber? Would he harm her?”
“I’ve thought about that,” Zach said, rubbing his neck and moving restlessly. “He’s unpredictable and wild, but none of the Foggs have ever really done any serious harm to anyone. Something could happen that he didn’t intend, but if Stoney did something to Amber, I think he would run. When he’s gotten into trouble, he’s always fled.”
“Do you know if he’s still around here?”
“No, I don’t, but that will be easy to check tomorrow. Since he hangs out in bars, I can find out.”
“Do you feel the children are safe from him during the day when you work?”
“Yes. Nessie is a pit bull. She’ll protect them, and I have the alarms. Every man who works for me knows to watch for Stoney. I always wear a pager when I work, and I have a phone in my pickup.”
Silence stretched between them while Emily thought about all he had told her. “Zach, how do the children get along? Do they miss their mother terribly?”
“No, they don’t. Rebecca remembers her the most. But Amber never was a mother for them. Not from the first moment. She didn’t want to have either one of them. She thought she was protected. She had surgery after Jason to make absolutely certain she’d never have another baby.”
Emily flinched, hating Amber’s rejection of her children, thinking how foolishly Amber had tossed away two precious children and a man who loved her. “I’ve never understood my sister.”
“Yeah, well, that’s all the more reason to go back to Chicago tomorrow.” Abruptly, he walked toward the bathroom, obviously having talked all he wanted to on the subject of Stoney Fogg. “You can have the bathroom first. Towels are in the cabinet and I’ll leave you a new toothbrush. Open the bathroom door on my side when you’re out.”
“Thanks.”
He left, and she heard the door to his bedroom close behind him. She went to the large bathroom, and looked at his green towel hung carelessly on a rack. His razor and shaving cream were laid out near the sink. A new purple toothbrush, still in the package, was propped beside lotion bottles. She turned the lock on the door and peeled off her clothes, stepping into the footed tub and pulling a shower curtain around it. But all the while her mind was on what he had told her. Where was Amber and what kind of trouble had she gotten into this time?
Removing his boots, Zach felt the tension knot his stomach. He hated having old memories of Amber dredged up. Would the woman ever be completely out of his life? Emily was a surprise, though. She was so unlike her irresponsible sister and father. He clenched his jaw. But she was bound to be like them in some ways, and even a little would be intolerable. In the morning he would get her to her car, and then forget her and Amber. He was certainly not going to help her search for Amber. He would find out if Stoney was around, and check out the list from the bartender, but that was all. Nothing more. Then he would send Emily Stockton on her way.
When water splashed in the tub, he glanced at the closed bathroom door without seeing it, his thoughts going beyond the door to the shower. Erotic images danced in his mind of Emily beneath the silvery spray of water, and his imagination ran wild. Her skin was rosy and beautiful, her waist tiny. The navy T-shirt had clung to inviting curves and the jeans had revealed long legs. He had no trouble imagining her without the clothes.
Annoyed with himself, he growled and moved across the room. Impatiently, he emptied his pockets and tossed keys and coins on a mahogany chest of drawers, trying to stop thinking about Emily—and failing. Her remark about not having children floated in his mind. She couldn’t have a baby. Could that be part of why she didn’t date much?
He glared at the bathroom door, hands on hips, and voiced his mission aloud. “Get up in the morning and take her to her car and forget her.” He looked at himself in the mirror. “Did you get that, Durham? The lady is stubborn and does what she wants. She’s of age and she’s got the same blood in her veins as your ex. Don’t get involved.” He gave a firm nod and walked to the window to turn the shutters and look outside. Lights shone over the grounds and on the hard-packed dusty drive.
Who had burned Amber’s car? What was Amber involved in? And could searching for her sister put Emily in danger?
He glanced at the bathroom door again. The water had stopped running and he could imagine Emily toweling dry. He groaned as his body responded to his thoughts. “Go home, Emily Stockton. Get out of my life.”
Emily pulled on the chambray shirt that smelled freshly laundered. It was worn, with little threads showing along the frayed collar. Her skin tingled as she thought about the shirt’s owner and remembered his hands moving on her shoulders and neck, giving her the firm massage that had helped extinguish her headache. He was a very appealing man. And he might be right about Amber. But danger or not, she had to try to find her sister.
She brushed her teeth, gathered her things and unlocked the bathroom door. When she opened it, Zach turned to face her. He stood barechested and barefooted, the top button of his jeans unfastened. Surprised to find him only yards away, she stared at him, wondering whether he had been waiting to get into the bathroom. His gaze drifted down over her and back up again, and she felt her body tingle as if in that slow assessment he had run his hands over her.
Zach knew he was staring, but he couldn’t stop. Her hair was a curly halo around her head. The shirt hid her figure, but it ended mid-thigh and revealed long, long shapely legs. His body tightened and responded, just looking at her. He drew a deep breath and met her wide-eyed gaze. Against all better judgment, he was drawn to her. He moved slowly closer. “My shirt never looked so good.”
“Thank you, I suppose,” she said as if she couldn’t get her breath. She didn’t take her eyes from his as she waved her hand. “You can have the bathroom now.”
Emily’s pulse drummed when he came closer. He stopped only inches away and reached out to touch her hair. “I can’t believe you don’t date.”
“I have a demanding job that I love,” she said.
He shook his head. “There has to be more to it than that. Sour love affair, someone hurt you, something....”
She bit her lip as she stared at him. “My sister hasn’t been an example to copy,” she said, and saw a flicker in the depths of his eyes. Had she hurt him with her blunt answer? “I can’t imagine passing on the genes that I carry.”
“That’s the reason?” he asked with arched eyebrows. “I thought you meant there was a physical problem.”
“No. My family life isn’t the best. I’m afraid of passing on their mistakes. I’m afraid of becoming like them. My family is worse than the Foggs you told me about. My father is in prison.” She was barely aware of what she was saying. She could feel the tension crackle between them. Then Zach’s gaze lowered to her mouth and her breathing stopped. She wanted to lean toward him, close her eyes, and let him kiss her. Yet, she knew that was foolhardy in the extreme. All she had to do was remember that he was her ex-brother-in-law.
“That’s no reason for you to avoid dating or marriage or having children,” he said roughly. “My children carry those same genes and they’re good kids.”
“I hope and pray they are,” she answered, suddenly sorry if she was hurting his feelings. “But I’ve had a lifetime of seeing nothing but disaster in my family.” Tension reigned between them, along with an undercurrent of dangerous attraction, and Emily knew she needed to get away.
“Good night,” she said quickly, turning and almost running, closing the door on her side of the bathroom and leaning against it.
“Emily?”
His voice startled her. He was only inches away on the other side of the door. She jumped and then turned to stare at the door. “Yes?”
“What time do you want me to call you in the morning?”
“Whenever you get up.”
“Since it’s almost half-past four now, I’ll sleep in until six.”
“Then call me at six.”
“Good night.”
She tried to busy herself, listening as the water turned on. She could imagine Zach in the shower, remembering clearly how his bare chest and back looked. In minutes, the water stopped. Soon the door opened slightly, and she heard the other bathroom door close as he went to his bedroom.
She sighed and stared into the darkness. Zach said she might be in danger if she kept searching for Amber. Should she do as he urged, and go home? She knew Amber was unreliable, flighty, and could easily be off with some man now, forgetting any danger she might put Emily in. But on the phone Amber had begged for help and had sounded sincerely terrified of a man.
Emily knew she couldn’t go home and forget about her sister. If she did nothing, and something happened to Amber, Emily knew she would never forgive herself.
Where was Amber? Was she still in the area? Emily wondered. She closed her eyes and, in minutes, was asleep.
Some time later, a faint, persistent whine woke her. She opened her eyes to stare into the darkness, momentarily disoriented. Then she remembered where she was, and realized she was definitely hearing a strange, repetitive noise—a high little whine. She turned in bed and looked into a pair of wide eyes.
Emily sat up abruptly, yelped when pain shot through her ribs, and looked down into a small face turned up to her. The little girl kept whining.
“Rebecca?”
The child nodded, and Emily bit her lip, glancing over her shoulder toward the bathroom. She wondered whether to wake Zach or just take the child back to bed.
A small hand reached up and patted the mattress, and Emily’s heart melted. She tossed back the sheet. “Do you want to get in bed with me?”
When Rebecca nodded solemnly, Emily reached down to lift the little girl into bed beside her, twisting to protect her aching ribs. Rebecca sniffled, snuggled against Emily and closed her eyes. In seconds she was asleep. Emily pushed a mass of ringlets from Rebecca’s face and felt pain grip her heart. Rebecca’s hair was like her own hair. Rebecca was like her own child—the one she never expected to have. How could Amber have given up these children? she asked herself again. And Jason wasn’t even Zach’s son. Yet she suspected as far as Zach was concerned, Jason was his as completely as was Rebecca. From the little she had seen of him tonight, Zach Durham was not what she had imagined he would be.
Emily shut out her thoughts on that subject. She placed an arm across the child and closed her eyes.
When morning came, Zach rolled out of bed and tiptoed to the bathroom, trying to be quiet. As soon as he was dressed in a short-sleeved blue chambray shirt and jeans, he walked down the hall. He carried his boots to put on downstairs so he wouldn’t wake anyone.
He opened Jason’s door and looked at the sleeping child while the dogs dashed past him and down the stairs. In front of Rebecca’s door, Tiger stood wagging his tail. Zach raised his eyebrow.
“Go on, get! I’ll let you three outside as soon as I look in on my baby doll.”
Tiger turned and disappeared down the stairs as if he had understood every word Zach said. Zach stepped into Rebecca’s room, looked at the empty bed and felt a shock. He glanced around the room, wondering if Rebecca had gone downstairs—something she never did. If she awakened, she usually got into his bed. He tiptoed past Emily’s door, noticing it was slightly ajar. He was halfway down the stairs before he wondered why.
He set down his boots and went back upstairs to push the bedroom door wider. Aware of the creak of the floorboards, he tiptoed into the room and looked at two heads of red curls. His pulse jumped as he took in Emily’s outflung arm. The sheet had been kicked away and she lay on her side, her knees drawn up slightly, her long legs bare. She looked warm, tousled and tempting.
As he stared at her, she opened her eyes and gazed back at him. Her eyes widened and she raised slightly. She grabbed the sheet and yanked it over her legs, her face turning pink.
“I was looking for Rebecca,” he whispered, knowing he had been standing there long minutes after discovering them.
“She came in here and wanted in my bed.”
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