Disgusting!
A thought hit her right between the eyes. Could she be jealous? No—absolutely not. Why should she care what Logan Barnett did, or who he did it with? After all, she’d only known him for two days, and he’d kidnapped her—and knocked her unconscious. It was just that her pain of losing her aunt was so raw right now, her heart felt ripped from her chest, and she was a bundle of nerves.
Once they were out of sight, Logan stopped beside a small stream in the shade of a strand of live oak trees. The setting sun glistened off the cliffs, washing the land in a golden glow, while snow-capped, purple mountains towered above the valley. A bird chirped from its perch up in the trees.
“Grace, I’m sorry—”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“Yes, I do. I knew how Edna felt about everything, and I should’ve warned you before we went in. I didn’t know she’d be quite so vocal about it.” He rubbed the rough stubble of his beard. “I had no idea my father was in such a hole. He never wrote to me about it. I could have got the money for him, but at least we got one question answered.”
She quirked an eyebrow at him. “What’s that?”
“The connection between your aunt and my father.”
She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “But Morgan wasn’t sure about that. He was just guessing.”
“But it makes sense,” Logan said. “I think my father was killed by someone who wanted the Double Bar B—and the water rights. Whoever controls the water rights controls the whole valley. Whoever killed my father must have been searching for the deed.”
“What does it matter? You’re his legal heir—you own the ranch and the water rights.”
“What if someone shows up with the deed and claims to own it? Said my father sold it to him?”
“I don’t know.” Grace shivered and rubbed her arms.
“Are you cold?”
“Yes, cold and tired.”
“I’d best get you home.”
At that moment, a shot rang out. It spattered in the ground at the feet of Grace’s horse. The animal reared, its hooves pawing at the air. Caught by surprise, Grace lost the reins and fell from its back. As she landed on the hard ground, the breath left her body in a single swoosh. From above her, Logan returned fire. More shots peppered the ground around her. She covered her ears with her hands.
And then Logan was at her side. “Are you all right? Are you hit?”
“No, I’m not hit, just scared to death. I can’t stop shaking.”
“Hang on.” He scooped her up in his arms and carried her behind a clump of boulders. After he set her down, she tried to sit up.
“Stay down.” He shoved her back on the ground then peered over the top of the boulder. A bullet whizzed by him, and he ducked back down. “They’ve got us pinned down. I can’t get a clear shot.”
Grace crawled closer to him. Her heart felt like it was going to explode. “I’ve never been shot at before. I must say I don’t like the feeling. Somebody is trying to kill us. Who do you think it is?”
“Somebody who doesn’t want us to get any closer to figuring out the truth.” Logan checked his gun, pulled bullets from his gun belt and loaded them into the chamber.
“I wonder if this is what happened to Aunt Lily? Was she ambushed like this? Oh, I can’t stand the thought.” She caught his gaze and held it. “What do we do now?”
He pointed at the darkening sky. “It’s almost nightfall. They’ll wait for it to get dark, then close in on us, but I think we can work our way behind the rocks and through those trees before they get us. But that’s what they might think, too. I’ve got to get you to safety. We can’t wait. Come on.” He shoved himself to his knees and motioned for her to follow him.
She scooped up the hem of her skirt in one hand and crawled after him. In a few minutes they reached the cover of the trees. He grabbed her hand and led her toward the stream. She jerked her skirt up to her knees. Indecent, she thought, but not exactly the time to worry about propriety. When she waded into the water, its coldness took her breath. She gasped as goose bumps pimpled her flesh.
A few yards downstream, Logan halted, put his fingers to his lips and whistled softly. Grace grabbed his arm. “Are you out of your mind? You’ll give away our location.” But, to her amazement, Logan’s horse appeared and cantered up to Logan.
“Good boy,” Logan crooned and swung himself up into the saddle. He held his hand out. She grabbed it, put her foot in the stirrup and climbed up behind him. Her arms encircled his waist, and a feeling of safety washed over her. He walked the big horse downstream for several hundred yards. Then, when the river bank rose to flat, open ground, he dug his heels into the animal’s flanks, and the buckskin took off like a rocket, his long strides eating up a lot of ground.
She tightened her arms around Logan and hung on with all her strength. Her hair whipped around her, the wind stinging her eyes. A couple of times when the horse jumped a gully or went down a rocky slope, she almost slid off its rump. It seemed like hours until the lights of Dry Springs twinkled on the horizon.
Logan circled around and came up behind the boarding house. He slid from the saddle then helped her down. She stepped on a rock and stumbled. He caught her and clasped her to his chest. She braced her hand against his chest and could feel the pounding of his heart, beating in rhythm with her own.
“I’ve been thinking, and I think you should leave immediately and go back to Philadelphia. It’s not safe here for you. Today was proof of that. I’m afraid you’re going to get hurt.”
“But—”
He touched his finger to her lips. “I couldn’t save my father, and I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.”
“I appreciate your concern, but I’m not leaving, not yet. Not until I know who killed Aunt Lily, and that person has been brought to justice—or, God forgive me, until he’s dead. So you might as well save your breath. You wouldn’t leave, would you?”
“No, but it’s different with me.”
“Why? Do you think you loved your father more than I loved Aunt Lily?”
“No, of course not. That’s not what I meant.”
“Then discussion over. Should we go to the Sheriff about…being shot at? Maybe he could investigate and find out who it was.”
“If he investigated, and if he cared a damn, and if whoever shot at us left their name on the spent shells…. A lot of ifs….”
She nodded.
“Well, if you won’t leave, at least promise me you’ll keep your bedroom door, and all the doors, locked.”
“I will.”
“Are you going to see Randolph tomorrow?”
“Yes, I guess so.” A shudder wracked her frame, and she wiped her hand on her skirt. “I’m not looking forward to it, but I guess I have to.”
“I’ll ride into town about noon. I’ll meet you at the restaurant, and you can tell me what he said.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering over hers, and Grace knew he was going to kiss her—and knew she wanted him to. She licked her suddenly dry lips.
His lips gently grazed her mouth, his moustache a light tickle against her skin. He smelled of horses, leather and the acrid scent of gunpowder. His fingers stroked her back, and new sensations washed over her. But when he made no further move, she leaned back and gazed up at him. Even in the falling light, she could see his eyes had darkened to a smoldering blue. She could tell he wanted to kiss her again—so why didn’t he?
Was he waiting for her permission?
Suddenly feeling very bold, she looped her arms around his neck and leaned into him. A growl erupted from deep inside him, and he claimed her lips in a sensual assault, hungry and demanding, that left her breathless. He deepened his kiss, thrusting his tongue into the recesses of her mouth, and intensifying her desire for him with an urgency she’d never felt before.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since the first minute I saw you,” he said. “Even though I thought you were somehow i
nvolved in this whole mess, I thought you were beautiful, and I wanted to kiss you, touch you.” He caressed her cheek, and his hand slid around the column of her neck. She pressed against him and felt the evidence of his desire.
Startled by the intensity of her answering hunger, she pulled away, but he tugged her back into his embrace. “What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?”
“No, no. It’s just that, well, we’ve only known each other for a couple of days, and we shouldn’t…”
“You didn’t like me kissing you?”
“Well, yes, but it, we shouldn’t—”
“If it feels so right, then it can’t be wrong, can it?” He nuzzled the sensitive spot behind her ear, and the ache in her lower belly intensified.
Lost in his sensual assault, all Grace could do was nod. No one had ever robbed her of her good sense so easily, not even Matthew.
Matthew!
Brought back to earth by the thought of her intended, Grace pushed Logan’s arms away. “Logan, I can’t, I can’t. I’m sorry, but I have to go now.” She turned and darted up the steps and into the house.
****
Stunned, all Logan could do was watch as Grace disappeared into the dark house. While it was true he’d only known her for two days, it felt like much longer. It’d seemed so right with her in his arms. Maybe it was the pain they’d shared, or getting shot at together, but he felt like he’d known Grace for years instead of days. He told himself he was being an idiot, and that he was setting himself up for a fall. Someone like her wasn’t interested in someone like him. They were worlds apart. He’d opened his heart to a woman once before, and she’d crushed it like a bug under her foot. He didn’t ever want to experience such pain ever again.
Besides, Miss Grace Wentworth would be leaving Dry Springs soon and returning to her beau in Philadelphia.
With a heavy sigh, he retreated behind an ancient oak tree and leaned against the rough bark. In a few minutes, a light appeared in her bedroom window. She was definitely in danger, as was he, but he could understand her reluctance to leave. If it were him, he wouldn’t leave either.
As he turned to go, a horse neighed softly from somewhere behind him, and an owl flew on silent wings from the treetops. His senses on alert, Logan crouched behind the tree trunk. A tall figure detached itself from the shadows and crept toward the back door of the house. The man stopped at the steps, picked up a small rock and tossed it against a window on the second floor.
In a few minutes, the back door opened, and a woman appeared. He inched forward to see who it was. To his surprise, it was the older woman called Maggie. He’d thought it was some cowboy coming to see one of the whores. Because it was so suspicious, he wanted to hear what was so important at this hour. A few steps took him to the clump of rose bushes at the back door. A thorn scratched his face, and a curse rose to his lips. Then he bit down on his lower lip before he made a noise and was detected.
“Did you find it?” the man asked, his face in shadow.
“No, not yet.” Maggie’s voice trembled. “But I’m still looking.”
“You’ve had plenty of time to find it.”
The man’s harsh voice was familiar, but Logan couldn’t place it. He had a funny feeling he knew the guy. “Look, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll quit playing games and find it or else…”
“Don’t hurt me,” the woman whined. “I told you that I’ve been looking everywhere, and I can’t find it. If Lily hid it, she hid it real good. Did you ever think it may not be here in the boarding house?”
“Where else could it be?”
“Well, you said she didn’t have it on her…when you….” A sob burst forth, and the woman covered her mouth with her hand. “She must have hid it before that day.”
“You find it, or else. You wouldn’t want the Wentworth girl to get hurt, would you?”
The threat had Logan reaching for his gun. He slipped it from his holster and thumbed back the hammer. He should shoot this bastard right now. This was probably the man who’d shot at them earlier, had probably killed his father and Lily, and now threatened Grace’s life. His finger tightened around the trigger, and it took all he could do to keep from killing the man on the spot. But he wanted to know who—and why—and he wouldn’t get any answers if the man were dead.
“I’ll find it. Don’t hurt Gracie, I beg of you. She ain’t got nothing to do with this. Promise me you won’t hurt Grace.”
“I ain’t making no promises ’bout nothing, except that you’ll be sorry if you don’t find it and soon. You hear me, woman?”
Maggie nodded, and the man turned to leave.
Logan crept forward—he had to find out the man’s identity. He couldn’t protect Grace if he didn’t know who was after her. He must have made a noise because Maggie looked in his direction.
“Who’s there?” she yelled.
The man’s footsteps quickened as he crashed through the back yard. Logan dashed forward just in time to see the man vault into the saddle and hightail it down the dark street. He cursed under his breath and marched back to the house. Maggie had already disappeared inside. He walked up the steps and grabbed the door knob.
Locked!
For a moment, Logan considered breaking the door down and getting some answers—any way he could. He didn’t want to put Grace into more danger. He’d talk to Grace tomorrow after she saw Randolph. It must be the deed to his father’s ranch that Maggie had been looking for. And who was making her do it? His hands clenched into fists. He wanted to smash someone’s face—and hurt someone.
Like he was hurting.
He stayed for another hour, but the man didn’t return. As he returned to his horse and mounted, he shot a last look at Grace’s dark bedroom window, then headed home.
Chapter 7
As the bright Texas sunlight crept across the bed, Grace moaned, turned over and buried her face in the pillow. Again, she hadn’t slept well, and a headache pounded behind her temples. If she didn’t get some rest soon, she’d be a screaming bundle of nerves. Last night, dreams had interrupted her sleep. Dreams of a tall, rangy cowboy who’d kissed her until she was as giddy as a school girl. A cowboy with blue eyes the color of the Texas sky.
At the thought, Grace’s body stirred to life, and a fire sparked in the pit of her stomach. Excitement and guilt warred in her chest. His kisses had made her feel more alive then she’d ever felt in her life.
But she still had doubts about him. Could she trust him? Her heart told her she could, but shouldn’t she listen to her brain? How had Logan’s mother’s brooch ended up in Lily’s boarding house? And not even in Lily’s bedroom—but in the one she’d chosen. Had he planted it there? If so, why? Too many questions, with no answers.
For the first time since she’d met Matthew, she considered the fact that he might not be the right man for her. While he was suave and debonair and had a good job at the bank, she’d never experienced such excitement for being in his presence. Of course, she’d never been shot at in Philadelphia either.
She pushed those thoughts to a corner of her mind. She’d examine them later. Today, she had to meet with J. Philip Randolph, Esquire. And she wasn’t looking forward to that task. The lawyer had dogged her steps for the last two days, seemingly intent on getting her to sign papers and sending her back to Philadelphia.
But after that, she’d meet Logan at the restaurant. Her pulse raced at the thought, and she fought to get her feelings under control.
Reluctant, but resigned to the task, Grace climbed out of bed. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed her doll. “Good morning, Bonnie.” She picked it up and hugged it to her breast. Feeling silly, she tucked it back on the nightstand, then glanced at the picture of her parents. Unexpected tears misted in her eyes.
After taking care of her personal needs, Grace dressed in a navy blue skirt and white, ruffled blouse, then headed downstairs to the kitchen to find Maggie. Instead, Lottie and Kate, in their usual state of undress, sat at the br
eakfast table nursing a cup of coffee. Both looked pale and tired. Feeling very ill at ease, Grace sidled around the table. “Excuse me.”
Kate barked out a laugh. “We don’t bite, honey.”
Grace stared over their heads. “I was looking for Maggie.”
“She’s feeling poorly. She’s still in bed.” Kate pulled her wrapper around her.
“I see. Should I summon the doctor?”
Lottie shook her head. “She’s prone to headaches. Just leave her be.”
“I understand,” Grace said. “Lily’s death has upset her very much. They were so close.”
Lottie barked out a harsh laugh. “Not as close as she’d like everyone to think.”
“Lottie, don’t,” Kate said, then stood and walked to the door.
“Why not?” Lottie asked with a shrug. “The house is closing, Goldie’s already gone, Frenchy’s leaving, and soon we’ll be out of here. So why not?”
Kate shrugged and left the room.
“What are you talking about?” Butterflies fluttered in Grace’s stomach. She sat in the chair Kate had vacated and stared into Lottie’s hard eyes. “What’s going on, Lottie? Why didn’t someone tell me Aunt Lily had been…murdered? Everyone just let me believe that she’d died of the fever.”
“Because Maggie told us to keep our traps shut. She said that if you didn’t know, Randolph would get you to sign everything over to him and we could keep the house open.” She barked out a harsh laugh. “Maggie thought she’d end up owning this place. Now she’s out of a job—just like us.”
Grace rose, walked over to the stove and poured herself a cup of coffee. She sipped the hot beverage as she digested the news. Her mouth tightened into a grimace. More lies. The web of deceit was closing in on her. “Lottie, tell me about my aunt. I thought I knew her, but I didn’t. What was she like? Really like?”
Lottie’s face softened. “She was outspoken, opinionated, and brash as hell, but she cared. She cared about us, and she took care of us. She kept me on when…when it really wasn’t profitable for her. She knew I had nowhere else to go. And now I’m in that same boat again. Funny, how life turns out, ain’t it?”
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