"She's young, you said," Cy returned quickly. "How young?"
"You mean to tell me that you're married to her and you don't know how old she is?"
"She hid the marriage license," he muttered. "Put her thumb over the birthdate while I was signing it and confiscated it as soon as the JP signed it. Every time I've asked, she's changed the subject."
"I see."
"Well?" Cy prompted.
Eb grimaced. "She ought to tell you."
"Eb!"
The other man shifted restlessly. "She's twenty-one. Barely."
Cy's face went white. He leaned back in his chair as if he'd been shot. He took off his hat and wiped his sweaty brow on his sleeve. "Dear God!"
"That's legal age," Eb pointed out. "And you don't need me to tell you that she's amazingly mature for that age. Some women grow up quicker than others. She never really had a childhood. From what I've heard, from the age of six, she was riding horses in competitions and working around the ranch. For all that her Dad wouldn't teach her management, there isn't much she doesn't know about the daily routine of ranch hands."
"Fourteen years my junior," Cy groaned. "I could never get her to tell me."
"Now you see why," his friend remarked. "You'd never have married her if you'd known."
"Of course I wouldn't have married her if I'd known, Lopez or no Lopez! I don't rob cradles!"
Eb chuckled. "She's no kid. Around Jacobsville we pay more attention to family than we do to age differences. Lisa comes from good people. So do you."
Cy had his face in his hands. "Walt wasn't even thirty," he remarked. "And damned Harley is barely twenty-eight. He's still in and out of the house all the time flirting with her when he doesn't think I see him. I caught him a couple of weeks ago showing her how to break handholds, right in my own living room."
"You know how to handle that," Eb said easily.
Green, glittery eyes came up to meet his. "I can't handle it. She's too damned young for me and I don't want to stay married to her!"
Eb's eyebrows went up at the vehemence of the statement. "What do you plan to do, then, kick her out and let Lopez..."
"Oh, for God's sake, you know I wouldn't do that! I just don't want her getting comfortable in my house," he added irritably. "I think she's still in shock at Walt's death and latching onto the first pair of comforting arms she can find."
"So that's it And you don't want to take any chances until you know for sure."
Cy glared at him. "Don't psychoanalyze me!"
"Wasn't trying to," Eb said with a grin. "But she and Walt didn't marry for love eternal. He'd just lost Becky Wayne and his heart was broken. Everybody knew he married Lisa on the rebound. And she'd never been in love with anybody. She assumed it came naturally when you put on an engagement ring. That isn't the case."
"You ought to know," Cy said. "You got engaged to Maggie Barton, and I know for a fact you didn't love her."
"I was lonely," he said simply. "But until Sally stormed back into my life, I didn't know what love was. I do now."
Obviously. It was written all over him. Cy turned his eyes away.
Eb's expression became covertly amused. "If you don't want Lisa for keeps, you might let Harley get on the inside track. He's got potential..."
"Damn Harley!" Cy burst out, his eyes were blazing. "If he goes near her again, I'll feed him to my chickens!"
So much for Cy's true feelings, even if he wouldn't admit them. Eb chuckled. "I haven't forgotten what happened at your place when Lopez's men made a try for Lisa," Eb murmured. "Talk is that Harley's given up throwing pistols at you and he walks a mile around you lately."
"Some men have to learn the hard way that they aren't invulnerable. Harley got overconfident. It almost cost him his life. You know that the two assailants made bond and left the country?"
"I know. What was it, a million in bond, each?"
"Yep. Pocket change to Lopez, but the judge set bond as high as she could. I don't blame her."
"She's a good judge at that," Eb agreed.
Cy stood up, feeling shaky. "I've got to get back home. If you hear from Rodrigo, let me know. I'm still trying to keep an eye on the honey plant. Nothing's shown up so far."
"Wouldn't it be a hoot if Lopez had decided to turn respectable and it's a real honey processing plant?" Eb mused.
"Sure, and pigs will fly."
"Not on my place, they won't," Eb said. He got up, too, and walked the other man to the front door. "But bullets may, before this mess is over," he added in a somber tone. "I don't like all this sudden quiet from Lopez's warehouse. They're up to something."
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," Cy agreed, and he didn't smile.
As another week crawled by, Lisa could see that Cy was brooding about something. He continued to be standoffish and remote after their tempestuous afternoon in bed together, and he'd been somber and unapproachable altogether since he'd gone to see Eb Scott. But his eyes always seemed to be on her. She caught him watching her when she worked in the kitchen, when she washed clothes. He'd bought her a dishwasher, as he'd promised, and every sort of kitchen utensil and cookware any gourmet would have cherished. He surprised her with the romance novels she liked to read, and even scarce out-of-print editions of authors she enjoyed. He was forever buying toys for Puppy Dog and Bob, and coaxing Lisa into stores where he had accounts. She was spoiled constantly. But he never touched her.
One evening when they'd just finished watching the news, she cut off the television and followed him daringly into the office where he kept his computer and printer and fax-modem. He looked up from behind the massive oak desk with an expression of surprise.
"Can I come in?" she asked from the doorway.
He shrugged. "Help yourself."
That didn't sound welcoming, especially from a man to his new wife, but she smiled and walked up to the desk.
"Something bothering you?" he asked quietly.
"Yes."
"What?"
She stuck her hands into the pocket of her pretty embroidered purple apron. "I feel like an unwanted house guest lately," she said flatly. "I want to know what I'm doing wrong."
He scowled and put down the pencil he was holding over a spreadsheet of figures. "You haven't done anything wrong, Lisa," he said.
"I must have. You can't seem to force yourself to come within five feet of me." Her voice sounded raw and she didn't quite meet his eyes.
He leaned back in the chair. A harsh sound came out of his throat and his lips made a thin line as he studied her. "You didn't tell me you were just twenty-one."
She looked suddenly uncomfortable. "Does it matter?"
"Good God in heaven!" he exclaimed, explosively pushing himself up and out of his desk chair. "Of course it matters! You're still a kid and I'm thirty-five years old!"
She let out an expressive breath.
"You don't look your age," he muttered, walking away from her to stand in front of the dark window. The horizon was a faint silhouette in the distance, flat and cold-looking.
"That's what Walt used to say," she recalled. She leaned her hip against his desk and stared at his long back. “But I'm not as immature as you're making me out to be."
His shoulder moved jerkily. "If you were ten years older..."
"But I'm not. So what do you want to do about it?" she demanded, blowing a wisp of loose hair out of her mouth. "Do you want me to move back over to Dad's ranch and go to work for Mr. Kemp and pay rent? I'm willing."
He felt his heart stop. His expression was vulnerable for those few seconds, and he actually winced.
"Don't look so tormented. It won't cause any gossip if I go back home, wedding ring or no wedding ring. We can get an annulment."
"The gossips would have a field day over that!"
"I can't believe you care what people might say," she bit off. "I certainly don't."
"It isn't that." He rammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and stared at her worriedly. "You've ne
ver been out of Jacobsville. You don't know beans about men." He drew in a slow breath. "You should have gone to college or at least seen a little more of the country and the world before you married."
"There was never enough money for travel," she said shortly. "My dad was a small rancher, not an aristocrat. If I went to college it would be to study veterinary medicine or animal husbandry, and I don't really see how I could do that with a baby on the way!"
He hesitated. Should he tell her what he suspected about the baby? It might be the best time to do it. But he couldn't think clearly. All he could think about was her age. He should have realized how young she was. He felt as if he'd taken unfair advantage of her, even if it had been the only way to protect her from Lopez. She had been married already, he reminded himself. It wasn't as if he'd snatched her from a cradle.
Her hand went to her waistline. "I'd much rather have the baby than a degree, if you want the truth," she said.
His face hardened. He couldn't tell her. Not yet. For all he knew, she might truly have loved her late husband. What would it do to her if she wasn't pregnant? He turned back toward the desk. "I don't want you to move out. Lopez may be laying low, but I guarantee he hasn't gone away. I won't risk your life."
She stood glaring at him. "Fair enough. When he's finally caught, I'm out of here," she said flatly. "I am not living with a man who can't bring himself to touch me because I'm pregnant with another man's child!" she added, making a stab in the dark. It seemed to have paid off when he went rigid all over.
She turned and started out the door, sick at finally knowing the truth he hadn't wanted to tell her. It wasn't her age that bothered him, not really—it was Walt's baby!
"Damn it, that's not why!"
She whirled. "Then what is?"
He glared at her. She had a temper that easily matched his, despite her youth, and with her dark eyes flashing and her face flushed, she gave him a very inconvenient ache.
"It's strange that you don't have any pregnancy symptoms," he said flatly.
She didn't answer him for several tense seconds. "All right," she said finally. "I'll make an appointment first thing tomorrow."
"See that you do," he returned curtly.
She searched his drawn face, seeking answers to questions she didn't want to ask. "We were so close, the day we married," she said hesitantly. "You were...different. I thought you cared about me."
He managed a smile that mixed equal parts of self-contempt and mockery. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that men get sentimental after sex?"
She seemed to close up like a flower. She turned away from him without another word and left the room, quietly pulling the door closed behind her.
He ran an angry hand through his dark hair and cursed himself silently for that cruel remark. He'd never been so confused. He didn't know if she was carrying Walt's child or not. He didn't know how he really felt about her. He was sick at heart to realize how very young she was. On top of that, he was frustrated because Lopez wouldn't come out in the open and make a move. One thing he was sure about, though, was that Lisa had to be protected. He was going to take care of her the best he could. Then, when it was over, and she was safe, she could have a chance to decide whether or not she wanted to spend her life with a maimed ex-mercenary.
He wasn't going to continue to take advantage of her, even if it was killing him to stay out of her bed. If she wasn't pregnant, he wasn't going to take the slightest chance of making her that way. She was going to be completely free to decide her future. Even if it was with damned Harley.
Lisa went to the doctor and had the pregnancy test, and came back to the ranch looking more disturbed and worried than ever.
Cy was waiting for her in the living room. He stood up, his face strangely watchful. "Well?" he asked abruptly.
She moved restlessly, dropping her purse into a chair. She was wearing the same beige dress she'd worn the day they married, with a lightweight brown coat, and her hair was in a bun. She looked pale and quiet and not very happy.
"The test was positive," she said, avoiding his eyes. "He said pregnancy symptoms sometimes don't show up right away. He said there was nothing at all to worry about."
Cy didn't say anything. Apparently he'd been wrong right down the line. She was pregnant, and her child was Walt's. It was uncharitable of him to be disappointed about that, but he was.
She'd noted the expression that crossed his face and it wounded her. She knew that men were said to grow possessive once they'd been intimate with a woman, and it wasn't totally unexpected that he resented Walt's place in her life. It wouldn't be easy for a man to accept and raise a child that wasn't his.
"Are you sure you don't want me to leave?" she asked in a subdued tone.
"Of course not," he said automatically.
She lifted her eyes to his. "I won't get in your way."
"You aren't in my way."
She moved jerkily away. "Okay. Thanks."
She seemed to hesitate at the door, but only for a second. She went out, leaving Cy to watch her exit with a tangle of emotions.
He stopped by his office to check his messages before he retrieved his shepherd's jacket and slanted his hat across his green eyes. He went out by way of the kitchen so that he could tell Lisa where he was going.
Harley had just come in with the eggs, and he was leaning against the counter smiling at Lisa, who was smiling back. They were both so young...
"Sorry I didn't get them in first thing this morning," Harley was telling her, “but I had some work to do on the fence line."
"That's okay. I had an appointment in town," Lisa replied.
"I'll be late tonight," Cy said from the doorway. They both jumped, surprised by his sudden appearance. Harley cleared his throat, nodded at Lisa and went rushing down the steps toward the barn.
Cy didn't understand why until Lisa actually backed up against the sink.
"Now, what, for God's sake?" he demanded shortly.
"You ought to see your face in a mirror," she retorted.
His green eyes narrowed. "Harley spends too much time in here," he said flatly. "I don't like it."
Her eyebrows arched. "How would you know? You're never here!"
His lips made a thin line. He was bristling with unfamiliar emotions, the foremost of which was pure jealousy.
She glared up at him from her safe vantage point at the sink. "I didn't cheat on Walt and I won't cheat on you," she said coldly. "Just in case you wondered."
He glared back at her. His eyes, under the wide brim of the hat, glistened like green fire.
"I never should have agreed to come here," she said after a minute, her breath sighing out as she leaned back against the counter. "I've never been so miserable in my whole life."
That was worse than a slap in the face. His whole body tightened. "That makes two of us," he lied. "Don't worry. It won't be much longer before we'll have everything resolved. Once the sale of the ranch goes through, you'll have enough money to do what you please."
He turned and walked out. He didn't look back.
Lisa felt like breaking things. She was crazy about the stupid man, and he wouldn't give an inch. He didn't want her talking to Harley, he was resentful of her baby because it was Walt's, he alternately ignored and spoiled her. Now he'd offered to let her leave. She didn't want to. She'd grown used to living with him, even if it was like being alone most of the time. But he had said that she could go when things were resolved. Did that mean they were close to dealing with Lopez? She hoped so. The memory of the assault on her bedroom and then the attempted assault here still worried her. She felt safe with Cy, even with Harley. If she went home, she'd be watched, but she wouldn't feel safe.
Cy, driving toward town in his truck, was fuming. So she wanted to go home. Well, he'd see what he could do to hurry things up for her. First he went to Kemp's office and told him to push the paperwork through as fast as possible. Then he started toward Eb's place. There had to be some way to force Lopez to
stick his neck in a noose.
But on the way, he decided to swing by the old Johnson house. It would be deserted now, of course, and there was only one other house on the stretch of outlying road. He didn't really know why it occurred to him to go that way. Maybe, he considered, his old instincts still worked at some level.
He pulled off the paved road and turned down the small county road that led to the Johnson place. He remembered Eb talking about the members of Lopez's cartel who had rented a house nearby and had accosted Sally Johnson before she'd married Eb. It was a crazy notion, and he needed his head read. All the same, he told himself, it never hurt to play a hunch.
He noticed the lack of traffic on the road, which was nothing unusual. This far out, there weren't a lot of people who opted for the badly kept county road instead of the newer highway that led to Victoria. The late autumn landscape was bleak and uninviting. All the leaves were off the trees now, and the last bunches of hay were cut and stacked in barns for winter forage. The weather had a nip in it. Nights were cold. He remembered winter nights when he and Eb were overseas, trudging through ice and snow. Life was much simpler here, if not overly comfortable.
He was watching the scenery, not paying a lot of attention to anything, when he noticed two huge tractor-trailer rigs parked near an old Victorian house. He didn't slow down or show any obvious interest in the once-deserted dwelling. But it was painfully clear why Lopez's "honey operation" was sitting still. He had a distribution center up and running already, only it wasn't behind Cy's property. The beehives were only a blind. Here was the real drug operation, complete with huge renovated barn and dangerous-looking employees sitting around the big rigs, which were backed up to the barn. Cy knew without looking that there would be locks on those barn doors and men with automatic weapons patrolling around it. He knew, too, that it wasn't hay that was being loaded into the trucks.
They'd been foxed. And now it was almost too late to close down the operation. He'd have bet money that this was Lopez's follow-up shipment to the one that had been confiscated down in the Gulf of Mexico. The odd-looking oil drums were scattered around, and had obviously been used to bridge rivers between Texas and the Gulf so that the men hauling the cocaine had been able to cross at places where the border patrol wouldn't be waiting for them.
Books By Diana Palmer Page 270
