by Unknown
She tried to stop thinking about the possibilities of danger. Then Jonah was coming back down the stairs and she forgot everything else. He was in jeans, a black T-shirt and his black boots, looking dark, dangerous and handsome.
“You don’t know when you’ll be home,” she said, suddenly having a moment of déjà vu, remembering too many times when she had told him goodbye and watched him leave, terrified because he was going into harm’s way. Only this time she wouldn’t be kissing him goodbye.
“No, I don’t, but don’t expect it to be soon. Fires like this, unless contained right away, are difficult to get under control.”
In silence they gazed into each other’s eyes, and she guessed that he was remembering other goodbyes, too. She turned abruptly. “Take care of yourself,” she said stiffly, hurting to the core. There was an insurmountable barrier between them, and she needed to walk away and not give him another thought tonight.
Ten minutes later, alone in her room, she knew it was impossible to get him out of her mind and impossible to forget about the fire and the danger and the loss to his friendly neighbors. Switching off lights, she walked out onto the balcony, where she could see a red glow in the inky night sky. She guessed it was the Brants’ fire.
Sitting in the darkness, she mulled over the entire day, thinking about the friends and neighbors she had met, remembering the children who had come with their parents tonight. Henry had new relatives and friends. He was delighted with his cousin Trent, and Kate was glad that he was getting to know his big, friendly family.
She looked at the red glow in the sky and could imagine Jonah in the thick of the struggle, helping out, directing others. I’ll never trust Kate again. Even though she knew it shouldn’t matter to her what Jonah said, his hurtful words rang in her ears.
They’d separated five years ago—five long years—yet here she was, still hurting because of him. Would she ever get over him, or was she destined to love him always?
She didn’t want to answer that question.
Her attention went back to the fire, and she pictured Jonah and the others struggling desperately to beat out the flames. And somewhere out there in the dark night was the arsonist—or arsonists. If the fire was connected to the rustlers, then it meant more than one person was involved. A group bent on destruction and hurting others. The rustling had to be for monetary gain. But the barn burning and the slaughter of Jonah’s cattle—those crimes were evil and had to have been done with only one motive in mind: hatred.
She shivered and rubbed her arms, wondering why anyone would hate the open, friendly people around here. Why would anyone dislike Jonah? Unless it went back to his days in Special Forces.
Dark shadows across the lawn looked sinister. Anything could be hiding in the blackness. In spite of Jonah’s reassurances that the ranch house and other buildings were safe, she could not shake the feeling of vulnerability. Why had he been a target? Because of John Frates? Because someone else had wanted Jonah’s inheritance? Because someone who worked for Jonah was out to get him?
She sat outside until she fell asleep. When she awoke it was dawn. She stretched and went inside, to lie down and go back to sleep. It wasn’t until seven-thirty, when she went downstairs, that she learned Jonah would not be home today.
Through the night Jonah battled the blaze, along with ranchers and hands from several counties. There was only a light breeze, which helped the situation. It was after dawn when they began to get the fire contained, and by noon the next day the blaze was out. Only smoldering embers remained, blackened land and the smoking ruin where the barn had stood.
With his sleeves rolled high, his shirt unbuttoned to the navel and drenched with sweat, Sheriff Gallen walked over to Jonah. Carrying a canteen of water, he offered Jonah a drink. “Thanks for working all through the night,” he said.
“Glad to help out,” Jonah replied, wiping his own sweating brow and taking a drink. He wiped the mouth of the canteen with a bandanna and returned it to the sheriff.
“I’m starting to wonder if it’s someone with a personal vendetta against people in this region.”
“Do you have any clues yet?” Jonah asked.
“Nothing substantial. The tire tracks we took from your place gave us the brand, but we can’t run down where they were purchased or when. We don’t have any other leads, although we’ll go over this area inch by inch. The firemen took samples of ashes to test. The rustlers will make a mistake sometime soon, and we’ll catch them. With several perps involved, it’s more likely one of them will make a mistake.”
Gabe Brant joined them. Covered with dust and soot, with his T-shirt torn, he raked his fingers through his wavy brown hair. “Thank you both for all your help.”
“We all need to help each other in this kind of thing,” Jonah said.
“Brant, you don’t know anyone who has a grudge against you, do you?” Dakota Gallen asked.
“Not that I can think of, but there are bound to be people who are less than enthused about me. I’m a rancher, a cattle buyer, an employer, a businessman. I’ve made decisions that various people haven’t liked, and my dad before me did things to make enemies. But as far as someone who hates me enough to do this sort of crime? No, I can’t think of anyone.”
“What about you, Jonah?”
“Hell, he hasn’t lived here long enough to make any enemies,” Gabe remarked dryly, before Jonah could speak.
“No, I haven’t. You need to ask Scott Adamson or my ranch manager. They would know a whole lot better than I do if someone had a grudge against anyone on my spread.”
“Is there anyone who might feel cheated out of the inheritance of the Frates ranch?”
Jonah shook his head. “As far as I know, the only people who might have questioned our inheritance were John Frates’s in-laws, and I’m sure they’re not into cattle rustling. Right now, they’re in a rehabilitation center.”
“At present, the rustling seems to be concentrated in this area,” Dakota said. “Piedras and Lago Counties. The crimes are getting worse, the perps bolder. You two have been struck, so you shouldn’t be hit again, but it pays to stay alert. Just keep your eyes open and report anything unusual to me. We’ve got to catch them soon, because the damage is escalating and I’m afraid someone is going to get hurt.”
Jonah and Gabe nodded, and shook hands with the sheriff before he turned to walk away. Jonah went back to help put out the last smoldering embers.
During the morning at the Long Bar Ranch, Jonah’s parents took charge of Henry and Trent, playing with the boys in the family room. Kate was restless, eager to hear what was happening with the fire. From television she learned that the firefighters had the blaze under control, and she sighed with relief, wondering if she would ever stop worrying about Jonah.
The family was at supper Saturday evening when Jonah arrived back at the ranch. Kate heard the clatter of his boots, and then he swept into the room and her pulse jumped. He looked dirty, disheveled and grim, and he had a cut across his cheek and another on his arm. She had to fight the impulse to get up and try to take care of him.
In spite of his grim expression, he seemed anxious to clean up and join them at the table. When he reappeared, his wet hair was combed smoothly back from his face. He was dressed in fresh jeans and a clean white T-shirt, and he looked as if he had had a peaceful night’s sleep instead of staying up all night fighting a fire.
He grinned at Henry and spoke to each one of them, but in spite of his cheerfulness, Kate sensed something was bothering him.
Whatever it was, she guessed that he didn’t care to discuss it in the children’s presence. Later, after Trent and Henry had gone to bed, Jonah was cheerful with his parents. It was only a few minutes past ten o’clock when they retired, and Kate was finally alone with him. Out of habit, she started to leave the room, but Jonah motioned for her to stay.
“I want to talk to you,” he said solemnly.
They were in the family room, and she sat on a cool le
ather chair. As soon as she was settled, Jonah sat in another chair and faced her. “We got the fire out today, but it was deliberately set, and some of Brant’s livestock were stolen. The things happening in this area aren’t like ordinary rustling. No one gains from setting a barn on fire.”
“Does the sheriff have any leads?”
“None. But don’t worry. If I have to leave Henry with Clementine, I’ll get one of the men to come up here to the house to stay,” he said. While he talked, he pulled off his boots, tugging them from his feet and setting them beside his chair. As he did so, her mouth went dry and her heart began to thump. Memories assailed her of watching him remove his military boots, and then his belt and shirt….
She took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on what he was saying.
“Since we’ve been hit already, the sheriff doesn’t think it’s likely we’ll be robbed again, but I don’t feel as certain about that.”
“Why don’t you?”
He shook his head. “No tangible reason. Just an uneasy feeling that we’re being targeted for some specific reason. I don’t think it was a random thing, and Gallen doesn’t, either.”
Kate looked through the glass doors. “This house is so open. Anyone with binoculars could see all through it.”
“Through the downstairs. Not upstairs. Kate, I can find the decorator who furnished the house, or you can. Or you could select something yourself. But I’m thinking it might be safer to get some shutters, or blinds, or whatever they do for windows. Not in here, because this room opens onto the terrace and we use it constantly, but some of the other rooms.”
“I agree,” she replied, relieved that it had been his suggestion. “It worries me to have the house so open.”
“Do you want me to see about it, or do you want to do it?” he asked.
She was astonished that he would turn decorating his house over to her, a temporary resident. “I’ll look into it and let you know before I do anything.”
“You do whatever you like. We both have Henry’s best interests at heart, and you have great taste, so don’t even check with me. Just go ahead and get something. Cost is not a problem.”
“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say that,” she remarked, wondering how lucrative the ranch operation actually was, and if there was oil or some other source of revenue on it.
He smiled at her. “I’ve got some benefits from the military, plus the ranch.”
“Jonah, with these attacks on ranchers in this area, I’m concerned about the new nanny. I know you’ll check her out completely.”
“Don’t worry about it, Kate. I can have friends run background checks on her, and whoever I hire will be so squeaky clean she could work in intelligence. I’ll be damn careful when I hire someone to take care of Henry. And as I’ve said, I don’t intend to leave him with a nanny all the time. I want him with me. But I can’t keep asking Clementine and Scott Adamson to watch him for me.”
“I agree.”
“I may wait until they catch whoever is committing the crimes, though, before we hire the nanny.”
“They may never catch the criminals,” she said.
“After a while I’ll go ahead and hire someone, but I’m not in a rush. I told the agency that.”
“In a way, that’s reassuring to not have a stranger in the house. I know my uneasiness is partly because these last years I’m accustomed to being with Henry.”
“You’ve done a great job with him, Kate.”
“Thank you,” she replied, surprised and pleased to have him say so.
“Tomorrow, I’m going to start checking out security for the place. The house comes first, and then the other buildings. We’re reasonably secure already.”
“Then you are concerned about safety!” she exclaimed, and a shiver of fear slithered over her. If Jonah was concerned, there was sufficient cause to be. “Is there anything you’re not telling me?” she asked.
“Nope. I just know I can make this place more secure, and I intend to do so.”
“And you’ll carry a gun?”
“Yes, I’ll pack, but don’t worry about that, either. The minute I enter the house, the pistol goes on a high shelf in my closet.”
“You’re really worrying me now,” she said.
“Let me do the worrying,” Jonah said. “I promise I’ll keep you and Henry and the others safe here on the ranch.”
She nodded. “I found more pictures of Henry that you haven’t seen. Would you like to look at them?”
“Sure,” he answered, and she stood.
“I’ll get them and be right back.” As she left the room, her spine tingled and she suspected that if she turned around, she would find him watching her.
Minutes later, when she returned, she found Jonah on the terrace. He had poured them both tall glasses of iced tea, and she sat beside him at one of the tables and placed a scrapbook in front of him. “Thanks for the tea,” she said, and she picked it up and took a long drink, feeling the cold liquid go down her throat. “I was thirsty.”
Jonah pulled his chair close to hers and reached out to open the scrapbook. Her attention was diverted from the album to the man beside her. She could detect his tangy aftershave, see the cut on his cheek at close range, touch him easily if she wanted to. As he began to thumb through the photos, she explained where each had been taken.
They looked at pictures of Henry playing in her folks’ backyard, pictures of Henry with her ailing parents, one with her dad in his bathrobe, his arm around Henry’s shoulders.
“That was the last photo of Dad,” she said quietly.
“I’m sorry you had to go through all that alone, Kate,” Jonah said gently. He turned to look at her. He was only inches away and his dark eyes were filled with sympathy that made her remember that terrible time a few months back. The loss of her parents still hurt, and she compressed her lips, trying to control her emotions. Jonah’s response had caught her off guard.
“Thanks. It’s over now,” she said stiffly, without looking at him. She had made it through that time without too much grieving because of Henry, but at Jonah’s quiet statement, she remembered those last days and how badly they had hurt. But she didn’t want to cry in front of Jonah or lose control.
“Kate,” he said softly, and turned his chair, wrapping his arm around her. “I’ll bet you kept a stiff upper lip for Henry’s sake and bottled up all your grief. Didn’t you?”
She nodded without looking at him. “The pictures brought it back,” she whispered.
Jonah pulled her against his chest. “You know, it’s okay to cry and it’s permissible to grieve. You’ll have a tougher time getting over their loss if you don’t grieve.”
“It’s just hard to look at the photos,” she whispered, sitting stiffly with her head pressed against Jonah’s chest, her hands gripping the chair as if she had to hang on for dear life.
She fought the tears that welled up, startled that he was being so kind. His hand stroked her head lightly, and as she gained control of her emotions, others surfaced. Kate became aware of being pressed against the wrought-iron chair, her head and hand against Jonah’s chest. She could hear his heartbeat, strong and steady.
“Jonah,” she whispered, and leaned back a fraction to look up at him. She was instantly lost in his dark-eyed gaze.
“Ah, Kate, we can’t leave each other alone even though I know we both want to,” he whispered, putting his finger beneath her chin and tilting her face up.
“Besides that, we’re out here in the light, in plain view of the house and everyone.”
He stood, taking her hand and leading her into the darkened family room, where he turned to pull her into his embrace. But she had had a moment to shake off the spell that his dark gaze had spun around her.
“Jonah, no. Not out there, not in here. You regret it every time you kiss me. I regret it, too. We—”
“Come here, Kate,” he said, pulling her close. His mouth covered hers, and she was soon hopeless
ly lost in his sensual magic.
Her blood pounded and her insides heated. Desire was a tormenting flame, bursting to life and making her tremble. She slid her arms around Jonah’s neck and clung to him, moving her hips against him, desiring him and hearing only the wild thumping of her heart. He kissed her as if he were going to devour her, a tantalizing kiss of seduction. Teasing, tempting her, he kissed her thoroughly while he held her.
Need possessed her, overwhelming her, and she slid her hands across his shoulders and down his arms, exploring every inch of muscle and flesh. She was starving for him, aching with longing.
She wanted to drop her hand to his hips, to touch him intimately. Her common sense and caution were being burned away by his hard, passionate kisses, blanking out her thought processes. Kate felt his own hands trailing lightly over her, with devastating effects.
She moaned softly, a whimper of reluctance, a soft cry of need. “What are we going to do?” she whispered, before his mouth covered hers again and all thought fled.
Jonah’s hands slipped beneath her shirt and stroked her breasts lightly. Kate trembled, desire turning to white heat. She gasped, gripping his shoulders while he pushed away her lacy bra and cupped her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples.
A tremor shook him, and then another, and she realized they were destroying each other, careening in a direction neither wanted, yet were powerless to change. Even though she knew she shouldn’t, she desired him with all her being.
“No, Jonah,” she whispered, and pushed against him. She looked up at him and saw his dark eyes burning with blatant desire.
“We’re not going there again,” she said. “It hurt before and it’ll hurt now. You don’t want it and I don’t want it. Not without love. And you can’t say you love me. You can’t say you trust me.”
When a shuttered look crossed his features, she knew she was right. She saw the muscles clench in his jaw and his chest expand as he took a deep breath.
“And you damn well don’t love me, Kate, or you never would have left me,” he said, with so much bitterness she winced. He turned and strode away, and as she watched him go, she hurt so much that tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks.
