by Lisa Jackson
“I’m okay, Mom,” Katie assured Brynnie.
“Thank God.” Again, Brynnie’s arms tightened around her, then she let them drop. “You’re still my baby, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Lord, what I wouldn’t do for a cigarette.”
“Mom!” The screen door opened and banged shut. Josh flew down the steps to hurtle himself into Katie’s arms.
Her throat was suddenly swollen, at the gesture of her son. She blinked hard and silently thanked God for her boy.
“Hi, bud.”
“Are you okay?”
“Fine, fine.” She kissed Josh’s crown and for once he didn’t seem embarrassed that his mother was displaying her heartfelt affection for him.
“What happened? I thought you were just going to try and rent the house.” His eyes were wide and now that the worry of her safety was over, he was keyed in on the fact that his mother was some kind of heroine.
“I did. I guess I was duped,” she admitted, ruffling his hair. So much for heroics.
“So the guy was a phony.”
“Big time.”
John Cawthorne stepped forward. “You’d better come into the house and slow down a mite. You look all done in.”
“I’m fine,” Katie lied.
“Dad’s right.” Bliss, ever the worrier, held the door open. “Maybe you should rest.”
“That’s a good idea.” Jarrod glared at his half-sister. “And give up the ridiculous notion that you’re going to interview Ray Dean for your story.”
“Ray Dean? Laddy’s dad? He was the guy?” Josh asked, his eyes round as saucers as his estimation of his mother and her bravery soared into the stratosphere.
“Stay away from the likes of him,” John growled.
Tiffany squeezed her hand. “Oh, Katie. Jarrod and ... and John are right. Ray Dean’s a criminal and you’re a mother, you can’t be taking any chances.” For once, Tiffany sided with her estranged father, and Katie saw that this family—ragtag and filled with more than its share of bitter memories, distrust, and skeletons tucked away in every available closet—had come together during this crisis. Unintentionally, she’d drawn them to one another.
“Maybe everyone should hear what Katie has to say.” Luke, the outsider, finally put in his two cents worth. He was standing beneath a madrona tree, one shoulder propped against the trunk, his hands shoved into the back pockets of his jeans. “Seems to me that it’s her life.”
Jarrod was about to argue. He opened his mouth, snapped it shut and then lifted a hand as if in surrender. “He’s right.”
“Tell us what happened,” Bliss insisted.
“Everything,” Tiffany added. “Come on, I think we can all fit into the parlor.” She held the door open and John urged everyone inside. There wasn’t enough of Katie’s odds and ends of eclectic furniture to hold everyone, but Stephen and Josh sat on the hearth, Christina was huddled in her mother’s arms while Bliss and Mason stood at the windows, Brynnie sagged onto the couch, and the rest were scattered throughout the room, either seated in kitchen chairs they’d dragged into the parlor, or on the floor.
At John’s insistence Katie took her place in an overstuffed wing chair and Blue, toenails clicking, entered the room to curl into a ball at her feet. His ears twitched and his eyes moved from one member of the family to the next while Katie launched into her story. Everyone, even her ever-restless twin brothers, listened raptly. Few questions were asked and when she described Luke’s dramatic rescue, all eyes turned his way. He stood in the archway between parlor and foyer, his face without much expression. Aloof. And still as sexy as any man she’d ever seen. Her throat caught for a minute as his eyes held hers. In that heartbeat she forgot that he’d betrayed her; remembered only that he’d put his life on the line for her. Before anyone had noticed, she looked away.
“I guess we owe you a debt of gratitude,” John commented, eyeing Luke and sizing him up.
“No trouble.”
“Nonetheless, you should be rewarded—”
“I don’t think so.” Luke’s back stiffened in stubborn pride, and then Katie remembered that he’d probably already been paid for locating Ralph Sorenson’s grandson. Her teeth clamped together; now wasn’t the time to bring that up.
“You saved Katie’s life,” John said adamantly.
“She was doin’ okay before I got there.”
“Like hell she was,” Jarrod retorted, his lips compressed over his teeth, his eyes flashing with frustration at his half-sister’s bullheaded streak. “I don’t call it ‘okay’ when you’re locked away with a known criminal who has a weapon at your throat!”
“It wasn’t like that,” Katie protested.
“Damned close.”
There was no arguing with him. She glared at Jarrod for a second, then smiled. After all, he was only angry because he cared. “So what happened on this end?” Katie asked, hoping to defuse some of the tension that lingered in the air.
“After Luke left, Tiffany called me. Explained what was goin’ on,” John clarified.
Tiffany, smoothing Christina’s curls, nodded. “I was worried. Luke had already left and I just had this feeling that there might be trouble, so I decided your folks should know what was going on.” Her eyes met Katie’s and a moment of understanding passed between them, a connection only true sisters share. “So, I phoned the ranch and talked to John.”
Katie couldn’t believe her ears. For Tiffany to have reached out to her estranged father was a major step. Major. Maybe there was hope for this ragtag family yet.
“Since I was there when John got the call,” Jarrod added, “I decided to find out what was going on for myself. Bliss and Mason gathered everyone together here.”
“I talked to the police,” John said. He stood behind the couch where his wife was ensconced and patted her shoulder. Brynnie reached up and grabbed his fingers in hers. “But they’d already been tipped off. Some neighbor, I think.”
“Leona.”
“Helluva way to get us all together,” Nathan joked.
Katie managed a laugh. “I promise I won’t do it again.”
“Good.” Brynnie pushed herself upright. “I don’t think I could live through it again.”
“The next time you meet someone interested in looking at that place, give me a call,” Jarrod said.
“I don’t need—” Katie stopped short. How could she complain about his overbearing, big-brother tactics when he’d risked his life for hers? “Okay, I’ll be more careful and take someone with me.”
“I’m gonna hold you to it,” Jarrod warned, leveling a finger in her direction. But he couldn’t hang on to his glower and the smile that twitched at the corners of his mouth let her know that all was forgiven.
The conversation grew lighter and the kids strayed upstairs. Luke, seeing that all was well, tried to leave, but Jarrod stopped him in the foyer near the staircase. “Seems to me you might just be the reason my sister’s alive.”
Luke’s gaze touched Katie, still seated in the chair near the fire. She felt her heartbeat elevate from just that one glance. What was it about him that made her so crazy? It seemed that she was either ready to murder him because he was so bullheaded; or she was melting at his touch, dreaming of making love to him forever. The man was just plain confusing. There were no two ways about it. She climbed out of her chair and went swiftly to the entry hall. A slow smile stretched across Luke’s mouth. “My guess is that your sister here would have done just fine on her own,” he said to Jarrod. Again Luke’s blue eyes found hers. “I just didn’t want to take any chances.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. Stick around,” Jarrod invited.
“Please. Stay. I’m sure this clan is going to be clamoring for food at any second,” Katie agreed.
“I’m already taking care of it.” John joined them in the foyer. “Everyone’s invited out to the ranch. I know it’s late, but we need to celebrate. Brynnie and I’ll pick up ribs and chicken down at Me
l’s Barbecue. Meet us at the ranch in an hour.”
Luke started to protest, but John put on his I-won’t-take-no-for-an-answer smile. “It isn’t every day someone saves my daughter’s life, though it has happened in the past.” His gaze slid to Mason for a second, before returning to Luke. “Please, son. It’s the least we all can do.” He stuck out his hand and Luke clasped it firmly. “All right. I’ll be there.”
“Good.” John turned toward the parlor and announced that the entire family was invited.
“It’s so late,” Tiffany said, blushing as Christina yawned and rubbed her eyes. “We need to get her home.”
“She can bunk down on one of the beds in the guest rooms,” Brynnie offered.
“I don’t know. . . .” Tiffany looked at Katie, then, moistening her lips, glanced in Bliss’s direction. “Okay,” she finally said, her shoulders straightening a bit as she seemed, for the first time, to accept her position in John Cawthorne’s family. “We’ll be there.”
Katie could have dropped through the floor. Never would she have believed Tiffany could capitulate.
“Good! Good!” John said, practically beaming. “Come on, Brynnie, we’d better get a move on. We’ll see you all in an hour.”
Katie was stunned. Every member of the family had agreed to show up at Cawthorne Acres. In a flurry of activity, they left, climbing into individual cars and trucks that roared away from the apartment house, leaving Josh, Katie and Luke standing in the moon-washed backyard.
“Who would’ve thought?” she said, tousling Josh’s hair.
“What d’ya mean?”
“I never thought this family would get together. Never. This is a red-letter day,” she said to Luke as everyone dispersed.
“I’m just glad you’re okay, Mom,” Josh admitted.
“Me, too.”
“Why don’t you go check on Blue and we’ll get ready to go?”
Josh hesitated, as if he were about to argue, then lifted a shoulder. “Sure.”
“Good.” She turned back to face Luke. “Now,” she said as a cloud shifted over the moon, “you and I need to talk.”
“Do we?” In the half-light his teeth flashed white and she reminded herself that despite everything she was still angry with him. That he’d deceived her.
“Yep. Just because you probably saved my life today,” she continued, “doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, Gates.” She angled her face up to his and said, “There’s still that little matter of your deal with Ralph Sorenson. No matter what happened with Ray Dean, I think you used me and my son. For your own purposes.”
He stared down at her so intensely she had trouble meeting his gaze. For a brief second she thought he might kiss her, but then she changed her mind when he looked away. His eyes narrowed as he stared into the distance, but, she suspected, he saw only what was deep in his own mind.
“I guess you have the right to think anything you damned well please,” he finally muttered. “Can’t say as I blame you.” He turned on his heel and started toward the carriage house. “Give my regrets to your father and Brynnie.”
“But—No. Wait.” She caught up with him, touched his arm and he spun again, facing her with an expression of exhaustion and pain.
“Just for the record, Katie,” he said slowly, his gaze drilling into hers as if he could somehow find her soul, “I never intended to hurt you.” With that, he turned and walked out of her life.
Chapter Twelve
“I don’t want the money.”
Luke had never thought he’d say those particular words. Since he’d grown up poor, he’d thought, for as long as he could remember, that money could buy him happiness. Not that he needed a lot. Just enough to get by and give himself a little nest egg so he wouldn’t have to work until he was ninety. But he’d changed his mind. Katie Kinkaid had seen to that.
Ralph Sorenson, on the other end of the line, and woken from what must have been a deep sleep, wasn’t in the mood for Luke’s change of heart. “You earned it, boy. It’s yours.”
“ No.”
“What the devil happened to you?”
I fell in love. “I just had a change of heart.” That wasn’t a lie.
“You’re just mad ’cause I called my grandson’s mother before squarin’ it with you,” Ralph said. “Well, I admit I was a little impatient, but then you’ve got to understand there’s no reason to wait. That boy is Dave’s son. Our grandson. It’s time we met.”
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”
“So you’ll get paid.”
“Give it to Josh,” Luke said. “I’m out of this. Good night Ralph.”
“Well, ain’t that a fine howdy-do?” The old man hung up and Luke felt only slightly better than he had a while before. He strode to the window and stared into the night. He’d never gotten used to living in town and the blue glare of the streetlights seemed harsh and unforgiving.
Just the way he felt. Staring at the huge apartment house as if it were an enemy, he tilted back his bottle of beer and took a long swallow. He thought of Katie, and deep inside there was an ache—something primal and painful and, in his estimation, way out of line. So she was a beautiful woman. So she had an outlook on life he found fascinating. So what? Disgusted with himself, he drained his long-neck, considered another, then tossed the idea aside.
Alcohol wouldn’t help. Not that it ever had.
His conscience was eating him alive. What he’d done to her was unforgivable, and calling and telling Ralph that he was out of the deal was hardly compensation enough. Nope, his refusal of Ralph’s bribe was just another incidence of too little, too late.
Which seemed to be the story of his life.
* * *
“Where’s Luke?” Bliss had asked.
Tiffany, too, hadn’t let Luke’s absence go unnoticed. “I thought he was coming.”
“I specifically invited him,” John Cawthorne had grumbled. “Helluva way to act, if ya ask me.”
Of course no one had asked John’s opinion; John was just forever willing to offer it. While the rest of her family had laughed and talked, eating ribs, chicken, bread and coleslaw, Katie had scarcely been able to take a bite. Everyone had assumed it was from the trauma she’d suffered earlier in the day, but the truth of the matter was that no matter what she did, her thoughts turned back to the rangy cowboy with the Texas drawl and easy smile. Dammit, she’d missed him.
As soon as it was polite, she’d located Josh and said her goodbyes. All of her brothers had warned her to be more careful, whether while renting the house or chasing down stories. Her sisters had told her how great they thought Luke was.
As if they were a couple. What a laugh—a miserable, heart-wrenching laugh. Driving through the darkened streets of Bittersweet, she told herself that she couldn’t love a man like Luke Gates. She wouldn’t. It was just too painful.
He used you, she reminded herself as she shifted down and turned into the drive of the apartment house. The beams of her headlights washed up against the tailgate of Luke’s truck. He was home. Only a few yards away. She told herself it didn’t matter if he was living next door or in the middle of the North Pole.
But of course that was a lie. “Lord help me,” she whispered under her breath.
“Huh?” Josh, eyes closed, stirred in the passenger seat.
She parked and set the emergency brake. “Come on, bud,” she said. “Time for bed.”
“I can’t make it.” He yawned and let his head loll back against the seat again.
“Sure you can. Just try.” She managed to help him out of the Jeep, then guided him toward the house and upstairs to his room. He managed to make it as far as his bed, then flopped, facedown, onto the mattress.
She brushed a kiss across the top of his head. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
As she snapped off the light and closed the door, Josh lifted his head and tried to stifle a yawn. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Mom.”
“Thanks, kid.” Her h
eart swelled. “I love you.”
“Me, too. And Mom? You know what I said about Luke before, that I didn’t like him?”
She nodded, vaguely recalling a conversation when Josh had sprained his ankle. “Yeah.”
“I changed my mind. He’s okay.”
“Good.” Why it mattered she didn’t know, because Luke had used her. And Josh. “See ya in the morning.” She closed the door and went down the hallway to her room. It seemed empty and dark. Even after she turned on the bedside lamp and pulled down the quilt, it felt cold somehow, vacuous and barren.
What had Jarrod said—that she needed a man? She’d never believed him. Until now. Because of Luke Gates. “Oh, Katie, you’ve got it bad,” she said, realizing the aching truth that she loved Luke Gates.
“I never intended to hurt you.” His final words had rattled through her brain all night long. But it didn’t matter what his intentions had been. He had hurt her. And loving him only made it worse.
* * *
“Okay, Katie, I should be shot for this, but I think I made the rash promise to let you know anything I found out about the Isaac Wells case,” Jarrod said when she answered the phone the next morning.
“Sounds like you’ve had a change of heart.” She poured herself a cup of coffee and looked through the back window only to discover that Luke’s pickup was missing.
“No way. You be careful. But I figure someone down at that rag you work for is going to write the story, so it may as well be you.”
“Can’t argue with that.” Holding the receiver between her shoulder and ear, she scrounged in a top drawer for a pen and a notepad. “Okay, brother. Shoot.” She sat at the table and listened.
“Okay, the deal is this. It seems that Isaac isn’t quite the loner everyone thought. In fact, he was a crook, or the guy behind the scenes with all the brains. The police don’t know for sure, but they suspect Isaac was involved in a string of burglaries that happened around Medford and Ashland a few years back. Ray Dean was his accomplice, the actual thief. Ray took all the risks and got most of the money. Except for one job—the big one.”
