by Cait London
“Wait here.” He wanted Jemma safe; if he found Richard, he wasn’t certain what he would do. Mentally unstable, the doctor could hurt her in a melee. Hogan prayed that Carley was alive—
“I’m going.” Jemma was already running out the door to his pickup.
Jemma held Hogan’s free hand as they raced onto the road, where Hogan paused. To the left lay the trail to the mountains, and they would need horses and to the right was—
Hogan settled into that quiet calm that served him best, and came up with, “He’s got her at his house.”
“But Savanna said they were hiking into the mountains—”
“He’d want her where his precious collections are. Richard is a collector, Jemma. He places his collections together. He considers Carley to be his possession. He’ll want to enjoy her visually with his other things.”
“And when he finds out that she isn’t a virgin?”
Those girls who were murdered were his patients. He was furious ... and then they were dead, Savanna had said. Despite his fear, Hogan calmly managed to reassure Jemma, “Nothing will happen to Carley. We’ll get to her first.”
On the way to the Coleman house, Hogan concentrated on driving fast but safely— because they were Carley’s only chance.
He glanced at Jemma’s pale, taut face, her hands clenching his single one so tightly the bones showed beneath her skin.
Because he loved her and there was no going back from the bond they had formed, and because now— with Carley’s life endangered— his life stood out boldly.
He’d been in the shadows, coddling old pain and resentment. Jemma had brought him sunshine and meaning to his life; she was a part of him now, as much as his soul. He lifted the chain that held his mother’s ring over his head and placed it in Jemma’s hand. “I want you to wear my mother’s ring. It’s important to me now.”
“Hogan, I can’t...”
“If something happens, if something goes wrong, and I’m.... We don’t know what Richard will do, sweetheart, and it’s important to me that you wear her ring. It’s a circle, a circle of life and eternity. Life goes on, no matter what happens to interfere with it. I want to know that you’re wearing my ring, that you know you’re in my heart. You give me peace, Jemma. You fill me.”
Then he bent to kiss her quickly; she was the other half of his heart. “Left hand, third finger, Jemma.”
“You pick the worst times— like when you threw those earrings at me.”
Shaking with emotion, Jemma freed the ring and slid it on her finger, a perfect fit. “I’ll give it back when this is finished. Ooo, I’m so mad. It’s just like you to think on so many levels, when I can only concentrate on one and right now, that has to do with Carley. I feel like I’m getting ambushed. You’re just so intense and pushy. You’re so emotional. You’re so— so just you.”
“Uh-huh,” Hogan murmured, but promised that when Carley was safe, Jemma would still be wearing his ring.
At the Coleman house, Hogan stopped to release Richard’s two Rottweilers. They silently obeyed his firm command and touches as he let them know he respected them, but he was in control.
A sound caught him, stilled his senses— a cry of an owl, too early in the day. Or was it a memory, a fear of Joe’s owl legend? Or was it the truth, that the owl had come to take Carley’s spirit away?
Hogan forced himself to push away the fear and stood looking at the house, trying to draw cool logic into him. He absorbed every detail, then silently turned the glass knob to the parlor door.
Jemma gripped his shirt as they entered the Coleman house and Hogan patted his thigh, pointing to the Rottweilers and then down the dark hallways to Richard’s collections. The dogs padded off and Hogan whispered to Jemma, “Go find Mrs. Coleman.”
“But Carley—”
He shoved her gently and with a worried backward look at him, Jemma hurried upstairs. As the Rottweilers began pawing and circling a huge chest in the collections room, Hogan motioned them to him. He quietly ushered them outside, and returned to Jemma’s whispered, “Mrs. Coleman is sleeping.”
Hogan nodded and eased the chest aside. “The dimensions on the inside of the house don’t match the outside. There’s something behind this chest.”
Carley’s scream echoed upward and Hogan prayed—
He found the button that released the paneled door and revealed a stairway leading to the basement.
Quietly Jemma followed Hogan down the stairs to find Carley tied to a huge dragon-backed carved chair, decorated in red-silk tapestry.
In the small, candlelit room, ornately decorated with precious Chinese jade and erotic paintings, she was dressed in a long gown, her eyes wide with fear. The heavy scent of incense spread over the opulent setting.
Richard was dressed in black silk, sprawled upon a chaise lounge. He watched her with half-closed eyes. Enlarged glossy pictures of Carley hung about the room.
Carley’s eyes begged Hogan to help, and then, following her stare to the intruders, Richard leaped to his feet. “She’s mine now, the sweet, innocent flower of the Kodiaks. Their precious baby.”
He lifted a long curved knife over Carley. “My dogs usually let me know when I have visitors. They’ve been bad boys and will have to pay.”
“Listen you—” Jemma stepped forward, and Hogan drew her back. Richard was too close to Carley.
Hogan moved in front of Jemma. One dark glance told her that he wasn’t arguing with her.
“Richard,” Hogan said, “only a weak man would do that to a helpless woman, attack and stalk her.”
“I am not weak!” Richard raged, and the knife glinted, turned toward Hogan.
“You are. We’ve all known that you are. You’re jealous of the Kodiaks, aren’t you, Richard?” Hogan spoke slowly, methodically, the deep sound hypnotic in the ornate, heavily scented chamber.
Carley’s eyes were wide with fear as Hogan moved closer to Richard, towering over him.
Jemma wrapped her hand in Hogan’s tooled Western belt and held tight. If she had to jerk him back to safety and defend him, she would. As if sensing her thoughts, Hogan looked down over his shoulder at her.
“Don’t,” he said in a too-pained tone. “Just don’t.”
Then he turned back to Richard, and Jemma couldn’t bear to think about that knife sinking into Hogan’s beautiful body— her beautiful body, because he belonged to her.
“What are you muttering about?” Hogan asked in a low frustrated tone.
“If you get hurt, I’m never going to forgive you. I love you.”
Hogan stiffened, but didn’t turn. She wondered if he’d heard her. “Hogan, I said I love you,” she whispered. “I’ve never said that to anyone before.”
“I’ll get back with you on that,” he whispered harshly, after a heartbeat of silence.
“I had to tell you. What if we don’t live? You’d never know how, how—”
“Shut up, Jemma... sweetheart, light of my life, and keeper of my heart,” and then louder to Richard, Hogan said, “Give me the knife, Richard. Everything will be fine. I’ll see that—”
Richard jabbed at Hogan with the knife. “Stay back. You Kodiaks thought you were kings— but I’ve had what you’ll never have. I’ve had the best. You swaggered around with girls swooning after you.... Even then, I knew that I would have the best prize of all..... I took Carley from you. Nothing could stop me, not even the almighty Kodiaks. Carley is mine. She knows it. She’s waited all these years for me.”
“You killed Joe Blue Sky, didn’t you?” Hogan asked in a too-soft tone that raised the hair on Jemma’s nape.
“Of course. I thought that was a nice reminder to you that you were very vulnerable to me. Joe was disposable— just a matter of withholding his medication for a few moments— no trouble at all.”
He ran his free hand across Carley’s short hair. “You really shouldn’t have cut your hair, my dear.”
“Has she really waited for you, Richard?” Hogan continued t
alking softly, distracting Richard from Carley. “Have you seen how she looks at Mitch?”
“I’ll kill him, too, after I finish you. Then Carley is mine!”
The blast from a revolver echoed in the small chamber. With a disbelieving look at the slight, elderly woman standing on the staircase, Richard crumpled to the floor.
While Hogan freed Carley and held her close, Mrs. Coleman used her cane to totter to her son. She bent to smooth his hair. “He didn’t know I could walk. I hid that from him, because I knew that someday, I would have to.... He was mad, just like his father. I knew Richard was building something down here, but he collects so many things, I thought he just needed more storage room.... I mean, he used to collect.”
Jemma helped Mrs. Coleman to stand. With tears shimmering in her faded eyes, Mrs. Coleman used her cane to walk to a carved Buddha. She stroked it lovingly. “I knew when he brought this home... it was Harry Medford’s. Poor Harry’s place was burned the night he died. Harry always loved me, you know. He was such a sweet man. He was going to help me. I wanted to live with my sister, Anna, and Richard wouldn’t hear of it. Don’t expect me to cry. I can’t. He probably gave the girl the same medication he used on me.”
“Maybe you could live with your sister now,” Jemma offered gently, searching Carley’s pale face and the way she hugged Hogan tight. Jemma knew how safe Hogan could make her feel, and that was important now, when she was still trembling.
Hogan turned Carley’s face up to his, studying it. “He’s given her something— probably to allow him to dress her and prepare for the grand event.”
Carley shuddered. “He wanted to get something here first, before we took that hike. He offered me a glass of lemonade, and then I couldn’t hold my eyes open. I woke up, and—”
Jemma placed her hand over her racing heart, fear still racing through her. She stood looking at them, trying to subdue the fear that her best friend and Hogan could have been wounded or killed.
They were beautiful, standing like that— Carley’s fair hair against Hogan’s dark skin. Perfect parts of Jemma’s heart were all safe and living for tomorrows. Carley would marry Mitch and have children, and Hogan would— be Hogan.... strong, safe, enduring.
Carley looked so safe now as Hogan gathered her closer. “It’s over now. For good. Jemma, take Mrs. Coleman upstairs and make some calls, okay?”
Jemma couldn’t move, still locked in fear, her cold body beginning to tremble. “It’s over?”
Hogan’s expression was grim and frustrated, yet he spoke gently. “It is. Jemma, you’ve come this far. You’ve saved Carley’s life. You’ve done everything right, and everyone is safe. Take Mrs. Coleman upstairs and make those calls, okay?”
Moving mechanically, doing what she must, Jemma seated Mrs. Coleman in her rocking chair near the telephone. Still icy-cold and locked in the terrifying scene, Jemma made calls to the police, and Savanna came to take Mrs. Coleman to a friend’s home.
Mitch had skidded to a stop, flying to hold Carley tight against him, tears running down their cheeks. He’d be angry later, telling her how foolish she’d been, but for the moment, Mitch had his love safely in his arms.
“We’re getting married,” he’d ordered shakily, “and no buts about it.”
“Not now, Mitch,” Hogan had said quietly. “Try her again when she’s up to it.”
Jemma had stayed with Hogan through the police questioning, gripping his hand like a lifeline.... and then she fainted.
That night, they rode Moon Shadow to the top of a knoll overlooking Kodiak land, the big Bar K iron gate visible in the moonlight. Jemma sat behind Hogan on Moon Shadow’s bare back, her arms around the man she loved.
She held him tighter, and Hogan placed his hand over hers, one finger smoothing Willow’s wedding band. Jemma did not want to return it, not just yet, because part of her was still locked back in the terrifying scene in the Coleman basement. Hogan took her hand, kissed it, and placed it over his chest.
He was wearing the shirt she’d made, marking a special occasion. Hogan treated everything she did for him with reverence, as though he couldn’t believe she would think so carefully of him. In quiet moments, when he thought he was alone or unnoticed, he often smoothed the fabric in a treasuring caress.
After the police questioning, Jemma remembered Hogan carrying her to his pickup and locking one arm around her as he drove. When they arrived at the Bar K, Hogan carried her into the house.
Mitch arrived minutes later, also carrying Carley into the house. They sat in silence, Carley’s terror silently vibrating through the sunlit room. Dinah, Ben, and Aaron had arrived from branding and the three had looked like a family, Aaron’s arm draped casually around his mother, Ben’s face aglow—
That happiness died when they saw Carley and Jemma, and Mitch and Hogan’s grim expressions.
Three hours later, Ben hadn’t wanted Hogan and Jemma to leave, but they’d needed the healing time together.
Now, on the moonlit knoll, on a ride like any other, they were silent. Hogan’s storms seemed to settle on their midnight rides, and Jemma enjoyed them, too. It was as if Moon Shadow carried them into one life— together, without words or explanations.
The solid beat of Hogan’s heart beneath her palm reassured Jemma that life would go on. “Carley is really safe now, isn’t she?”
“I should have seen it. The way Richard looked at her. He’s always looked at her like that, as if she were—” Hogan’s jaw locked, his features hardening in the moonlit night. “But then, I love Carley, too, and I— I should have paid more attention.”
Jemma rubbed her cheek against Hogan’s back. “It’s all over now. Tell me what you see when you look out there at the moonlit pastures and foothills and the mountains?”
“Images, blending together, colors and form separate and yet one within a concept.... Peace. I’ve found peace. Here with you.”
Because her heart was so filled with love, Jemma could only snuggle closer.
Later, in bed, Hogan held her close after lovemaking, as though he’d never let her go, as though his heartbeat needed hers to survive.... She smoothed his hair and sighed, the motion bringing her breast closer into his hand. “You’re a good man, Hogan Kodiak....”
“I’m staying here,” he whispered drowsily in the aftermath of lovemaking and the terrifying, stark painful day. “Make this your home, Jemma. Here with me. Come and go as you like, but always remember that I’m here for you. I love you.”
Jemma wondered briefly how she could ever leave him, this wonderful loving man, who would give his life for his family. She continued smoothing his hair, listening to his easy breathing, and knew more deeply than ever how much— “I love you, too.”
He was sleeping now, and she drifted along, unable to sleep. “I’ve always loved you, Hogan Kodiak. You’ve always had my heart. Just maybe I will marry you and maybe— just maybe we’ll make a family.”
Hogan sighed and stirred, his hand sliding down to cover her lower abdomen, opening upon it. Before Jemma slid off into sleep, she wondered how she could be so blessed to know and love Hogan, a beautiful man, inside and out.
She never felt the curve of Hogan’s pleased smile and kiss against her throat.
*** ***
Epilogue
The healing time
Hogan sat on his front porch, untangling Jemma’s usual mess of leaders, lures and fishing line that lay on the rough wood table in front of him.
At the beginning of September, a chill had settled onto the land, foretelling of fall, when the fur would be thick upon bears in the high country.
With the aspens turning fiery yellow, frost would be touching the small grave by Willow Creek, soon to be covered by snow, driven by the haunting winds. Hogan had come home to find his peace, his soul, and he’d found love.
It was a healing time, the cycle of ranch life holding a steady thread through lives that were changing and a family mending. Carley was now impatient for marriage; Dinah and
Ben had been remarried quietly, immediately.
Mrs. Coleman was financially independent and wanted nothing from the Coleman house. She’d signed all her goods to Mitch with the condition that he sell them, and use the proceeds to build a boys’ ranch for inner-city children. Carley had set her mind to be Mitch’s partner in the venture, helping him in his unique talent for saving children.
Aaron had started to build on his land nearby, and he’d settled in for a long, determined, romantic pursuit of his Savanna.
As for Jemma: She still wore Willow’s ring, and Hogan wasn’t pushing any plan now. Every day brought them closer, and the images moved more surely within him now. They’d come to him at first in sketches and then in watercolor. But they were still his secret, buried deep. He was coddling them until he was certain they would satisfy his artistic spirit—
Jemma. He treasured every day that she stayed, slept with him, and rode the moonlit pastures at night. She filled his heart and gave him peace— even when they were fighting. He’d learned to battle her outright, just to stir her up, to watch her ignite, his fire woman.
He’d found what he sought, as an artist, and as a man. He needed this balance in his life: Jemma, the land that he loved, and the discovery of the images in his life, the sketches that settled his need to create, to blend colors and shapes.
Inside the house, Jemma stood in the shadows, watching Hogan survey Kodiak land, seemingly at peace with himself.
She turned Willow’s ring on her finger and slashed away the tears dripping from her cheeks. She loved him so, this gentle, caring man. He’d fought his past and won, he’d tried to understand Ben, and that breach was mending every day.
But could she give him what he needed and he deserved?
Hogan turned to look at her through the glass, placing his large hand against it; Jemma matched it with her trembling one on the pane.
