by Diana Palmer
“It’s okay, Clark,” she replied. “He’s a bulldozer. It’s hard for anyone to say no to him.”
“Especially me.” He smiled. “When we were kids, Boone was always protecting me from the mean, older boys. He was never afraid of anything. I guess maybe he protected me too much. After our mom left, Dad was hell to live with. Boone took a lot of hits that were meant for me.”
“He loves you.”
“Yeah. I love him, too.” He glanced at her. “Boone said that Sheriff Carson was out your way.”
“Yes,” she replied. “I had to tell him what Dad did.”
“Excuse me?”
She bit her lower lip. Her father was a criminal. That was going to put Boone right out of her orbit forever. She was certain that Hayes Carson had already told him about Keely’s parents. The two men had been best friends forever.
“My father was a drug dealer, Clark,” she said quietly. “He supplied the cocaine that killed Sheriff Carson’s brother Bobby.”
“Oh, boy,” Clark said heavily. “You poor kid.”
“Now my dad’s back and he and his partner want money, lots of it...”
“I could give them whatever they want,” he said at once.
“No!” Her eyes were eloquent. “Don’t you see, the only way to stop them is to keep them hanging around while Mama puts the house on the market. The police might have a chance to catch them before they can hurt anyone.”
“Do you think your father would hurt you?” he asked.
Keely had never liked looking back. Her accident had hurt more than her body. When the little boy dropped into the lion pit, Keely’s father had been standing on the other side. He hadn’t made a move to help.
“Yes, he would, wouldn’t he?” Clark asked perceptively.
Keely drew in a long breath. It had been just after the court case that Keely’s father had brought her back to Jacobsville. He hadn’t said much to her, and he hadn’t met her eyes. She’d tried to tell herself that he’d only hesitated because he was shocked. But Keely hadn’t hesitated.
“I’ve spent all these years trying to pretend that he brought me back for my own good,” she said. “But I think it was because I made him ashamed.” She held up her hand when he started to ask a question. “I can’t talk about it, not even now. It’s so painful to think that my father was willing to stand by when a child’s life was in danger. I loved him. But he was ready to sacrifice me to save himself.” She looked up. “In the same situation, Boone wouldn’t have hesitated a split second. Neither would you or Winnie.”
Clark was solemn. “It’s hard to lose faith in a parent. I know. When our mother ran off with our uncle, we were devastated. Three little kids, and she just left.”
Keely was thinking that she would never have deserted her own flesh and blood. But she didn’t say it.
Clark smiled. “You’ll make a wonderful mother,” he chuckled. “Your kids will be spoiled rotten.”
She smoothed her right hand over her left arm. “No,” she said absently. “I won’t have children. I won’t marry.”
“A few little scars aren’t going to matter,” he told her.
She didn’t reply. He had no idea. She couldn’t tell him, either. She glanced at him. “I had a good time,” she said. She smiled. “Mr. Pendleton’s fiancée was a hoot.” She chuckled. “Do you think he’s really going to marry a woman who’s that blatant about social climbing?”
“I think, like me, he got into a physical relationship that blinded him to a woman’s true nature,” he said after a minute. “I hope he’s lucky enough to see the light in time.”
She frowned. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
“I was watching Misty tonight,” he replied. “She was all over Boone, her eyes like dollar signs. She likes going first-class. She pretends to have money, but I don’t think she does. I think she’s putting on an act, to try to get Boone back. I hope he’s got better sense.” He gestured with his hand. “I saw myself when I looked at him. I was just as enchanted by Nellie. But what I saw was an illusion.” He glanced at her. “You won’t even let me give you emerald earrings, and you love them,” he said softly. “I’ve never known a woman like you.”
“Actually there are lots of them, and they all live in Jacobsville and Comanche Wells,” she teased. “Just plain unsophisticated little country girls who love animals and like to plant things and don’t think marrying a rich man is the greatest of life ambitions.”
He grimaced. “I’d never get one of those kind of girls past Boone,” he said with resignation. “He always expects the worst when I date anybody outside our own circles.”
That stung, but she didn’t say so. Clark had been kind to her. “I have to go,” she said. “I had a wonderful time tonight, Clark,” she added. “Thanks.”
“We’ll do it again.” He frowned. “I didn’t mean that like it sounded—about dating girls outside my own circle,” he added. “I always think of you as family.”
She smiled. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me.”
He looked sheepish. “I guess you’d rather I thought of you as an eligible young woman?”
She shook her head. “I like being your friend.”
“I like being yours.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “If you ever needed help, you know you could ask me.”
She chuckled. “Of course I do. But I can take care of myself. Good night, Clark.”
“Good night.”
He watched her go into the house before he drove away.
* * *
HER MOTHER WAS unusually quiet. When Keely asked about the house, she only got evasive replies. Carly was nowhere in sight, and hadn’t been for some time. She was out of town for a while, Ella said finally, and didn’t refer to Carly again. There was also a disturbing phone call that Ella had answered with single syllable replies. She wouldn’t tell her daughter what had been said or even who had called.
When a car pulled up at the front door on a rainy Saturday morning, Ella actually gasped. Keely ran to look out.
“It’s Boone Sinclair,” she stammered, shocked.
“Thank God,” Ella said heavily. “Thank God.” She walked back down the hall, went into her room and closed the door.
Surprised, Keely went out onto the porch as Boone exited the car and took the porch steps two at a time.
He was in working clothes, jeans and boots and white Stetson with a checked Western-cut long-sleeved shirt buttoned right up to the neck. He looked down at Keely, his eyes dark and stormy.
“Come for a drive,” he said curtly.
She could have found a dozen reasons not to go. She wanted to come up with an excuse. Her mind agreed. But her body walked back into the house, grabbed her purse and a lightweight jacket and told her mother goodbye.
* * *
BOONE OPENED THE door of his car, helped her inside and went around to get in and start the engine. A minute later, they were speeding down the highway toward his ranch.
She was nervous, and it showed. Her hands played with her small purse while she listened to the rhythmic sound of the windshield wipers as they brushed away the pouring rain.
Despite all their recent turmoil, she felt safe with Boone. Safe, excited, hopeful, breathlessly in love. Her whole body ached to be held again as he’d held her at the charity dance. She hoped that didn’t show.
It did. Boone was far too experienced to mistake her body language. He smiled softly to himself. If she’d been involved with his brother, as Clark claimed, she wouldn’t be this nervous in Boone’s company. That meant there was still time. If he could convince her that he hadn’t meant to humiliate her.
He pulled out onto a pasture track that led to a closed gate, stopped the car and cut off the engine.
The rain flooded onto the windshield, making the outside world a gray blur. He unfastened his seat belt, settled himself crossways in his seat and stared at Keely.
The silence was a little unnerving. She glanced at him and found he
r eyes captured and held.
“Clark says the two of you are going steady,” he said.
Now what did she say, she wondered frantically. It wasn’t true, but Clark was using her as a tool of vengeance, apparently, for Nellie’s loss. She bit her lower lip and tried to find a graceful way out of the dilemma.
“Did he say that?” she asked, playing for time to think.
His dark eyes narrowed. “Don’t play games with me,” he said curtly. “Are you or are you not getting mixed up with my brother?”
Sorry, Clark, she said silently, but no mere woman could have resisted that look in Boone’s eyes.
“I’m not,” she said, sounding breathless, as though she’d run a long way.
The tautness seemed to go out of him. “Well, thank God for one thing going right,” he murmured. “I could have slugged Hayes Carson!”
While she was trying to work out that puzzle, he’d unfastened her seat belt and pulled her over the console into his arms.
“I thought this week would never end.” His mouth ground down into hers as if he’d gone hungry for years and sought to satisfy the hunger in seconds. He crushed her up against him, mindless of her soft cry of protest. “I’m starving to death for you,” he whispered into her mouth. “Dying for you—”
Had she really heard him say that? She gave up protesting. It didn’t do any good, anyway. She curled up against him and ignored the pain in her shoulder and arm, going boneless as his ardor only increased at her response. Her head began to spin. It was the sweetest interlude of her life. Rain pounded on the roof, the hood, the trunk, the wind blew, but she heard nothing over the pounding of her own heart. She had no reserve left. Whatever he wanted, he could have.
Except when his hand searched under her blouse and up over her breast, inching toward the strap. She couldn’t, didn’t dare, let him feel her shoulder.
With a sharp little cry, she jerked away from him, her face flushed from his ardor, her eyes wild with passion and dread.
He misunderstood. His eyes grew cold. He pushed her away, dragging in harsh breaths, until he could control himself again. He’d taken her protests the first time he’d kissed her as virginal fears. But this wasn’t. She’d rejected him. She’d lied about her feelings for Clark. She couldn’t hide the fact that she didn’t want intimacy with Boone. His ego hurt, almost as badly as it had when Misty shied away from him in the military hospital.
“Boone,” she began slowly, dreading what she had to tell him now.
“Forget it,” he said, interrupting her. He put his seat belt back on and started the car. “Obviously you can’t get past your feelings for Clark. No sweat.”
He didn’t say another word, or even look at her, until they were sitting in front of her house with the engine running.
“It isn’t what you think,” she bit off.
“The hell it isn’t,” he returned icily. “Goodbye, Keely.”
The way he said it, she knew it wasn’t simply a temporary farewell. He meant that he wouldn’t see her alone again, ever. Her heart broke. He thought she’d rejected him and it wasn’t true. She couldn’t bear to see the look on his face if he got her shirt off. That would end any chance she had with him. Of course, she’d just done that, without the added trauma of what he didn’t know.
She drew in a quiet breath. “Thanks for the ride,” she managed in a polite tone. She opened the door and got out.
He still hadn’t said a word. He was down the driveway before her foot was on the first step up to the house. She didn’t look back. It wouldn’t help.
* * *
HER MOTHER WAS still acting oddly. Almost a week had passed since Boone had taken Keely riding and kissed her. The rain had stopped and now the heat blazed. There were wildfires. Everyone was afraid to throw down a match or burn trash or even smoke a cigarette outdoors. It was almost time to harvest corn and hay and peanuts. The corn and hay would have to last the livestock through the winter; it was very important. Combines and tractors were sitting on ready, while the last days counted down to harvest.
On Saturday morning, the sounds of machinery could be heard everywhere. Winnie stopped by to pick up Keely for an impromptu lunch, assuring her first that Boone was out with the combines and wouldn’t be in all day. He’d taken a cooler with him, bearing lunch and beer.
“I hope I have enough eggs to do the egg salad,” Winnie murmured as they pulled up into her driveway past the huge posts that held the now-open gates that led to the house. “If I don’t, I may have to run back to the store. Why didn’t I think of it while I was in town?” she moaned. She glanced at Keely, who looked apprehensive. “Boone’s really out with the combine,” she promised. “I wouldn’t lie.”
Keely relaxed with a smile. “Okay. Sorry.”
“Not your fault,” Winnie replied, leading the way into the house. “Boone raged about you all week, in fact, not to mention Hayes Carson—God knows why. But this morning something came by express. He took it into the office, and got all quiet. He went out without a word, walking really slow.” She grimaced. “God help the cowboys. Somebody will quit by sunset, you mark my words. He’s seething!”
“You don’t know why?” Keely had to ask. “It couldn’t have been something about my father...?”
Winnie looked surprised. “What would Boone have to do with your father?”
Keely felt trapped. “You said he’d talked to Sheriff Hayes...”
Winnie scowled. “Keely, what’s going on?”
She hesitated. “Did Clark say anything to you at all?”
“He said you had to take a bodyguard with you when you went to San Antonio,” Winnie replied gently. “I’m not stupid. There’s gossip about your father being in trouble and threatening you and your mother. But I don’t think Boone would be mixed up with that.”
“No. No, of course not,” Keely said at once. She forced a smile. Winnie had no idea what was really going on with Boone and her best friend. It was probably better that she never did. Boone would never look twice at Keely again, anyway. She wondered how she was going to manage to draw back from her friendship with Winnie without making the other woman suspicious. She had to find a way. Just the thought of running into Boone again, after the way they’d parted Saturday, made her nervous.
They started lunch, but as Winnie had predicted, she should have bought eggs. She only had two.
“I can’t make enough egg salad for us now and for the men later out of just two eggs,” she laughed. She grabbed her car keys and her purse. “You finish the pasta salad and I’ll run to the store. I’ll only be fifteen minutes.” She glanced at Keely’s worried face. “He’s over in the north pasture,” she added ruefully. “Boone couldn’t even get here in fifteen minutes. Feel better?”
“Yes,” Keely said blatantly.
Winnie pursed her lips. “I do wonder what’s going on between you and my big brother. But I won’t ask. Yet.”
She rushed out the back door and closed it behind her. Keely felt less secure.
She finished the pasta salad and put it into the refrigerator. She heard the front door open and close and felt a pang of relief. Winnie was back.
But the footsteps coming down the hall weren’t soft and muffled. They were heavy and hard. Apprehensive, she turned.
And there was Boone, wearing stained jeans and boots, a shirt wet with sweat, his Stetson dangling from one hand. His eyes, as they met hers, were blazing with anger.
“Come into the office, Keely,” he said tautly. “I’ve got something to show you.” He turned and walked away, leaving her to follow.
She paused at the open door of the office, tugging at the buttons on her long-sleeved white shirt she was wearing over tan twill slacks. He was holding the envelope that Winnie said had come by express service this morning. He took out a photograph and held it out to her.
“Have a look,” he said in a tone so threatening that it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. “And then tell me you don’t have anything
going with Clark!”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
KEELY MOVED SLOWLY into the room and took the photograph Boone held out to her. She almost choked when she saw it. The picture showed two people in bed, in an intimate embrace. The man was Clark. The woman had Keely’s face. But it certainly wasn’t Keely’s body. She almost laughed with relief at the very obvious attempt to frame her by putting her face on another woman’s body.
She looked up with the amusement in her eyes, but Boone wasn’t laughing. He was positively enraged, and he obviously believed the photograph was proof of her lies.
“This isn’t me,” she began.
“Like hell it isn’t!” he raged. He tore the photograph from her fingers and ripped it to shreds, tossing it onto the carpet. “If you’d just told me the truth, I could have accepted it, Keely. You didn’t have to lie!”
“But I didn’t,” she protested. “And I can prove it!”
Her hands went, reluctantly, to the buttons of her shirt. She didn’t want to have to go to this extreme, but he wasn’t going to be convinced easily.
He misunderstood the intent at once. “Spare yourself the embarrassment,” he said curtly. “I don’t care what you look like under that shirt. It was just a game on my part, Keely,” he added with a cold smile. “A little flirting, a little teasing, a few kisses. I’m sure you didn’t take it seriously. I only wanted to see how far you’d go. If you hadn’t made it clear before, you certainly made it clear just now. Either of the Sinclair brothers will do, as long as you get enough to make it worth your while, is that right? And I thought you were so honest and upright and hardworking! It was just a sham. Like all the others, you’re only after money!”
“That is not true!” she said defensively.
His eyes glittered again. “I don’t want you here anymore. Ever. You get out of my house, Keely, and go home. And don’t you come back again. I don’t give a damn if Clark or Winnie invites you, don’t come! Make an excuse, do whatever it takes. But don’t come here again.”
