Roman's Heart

by Sharon Sala

  Roman turned and then shrugged. “No big deal. I wasn’t going anywhere.” He took a slow sip of the hot brew, savoring the kick of caffeine.

  Royal’s eyebrows arched. “You mean you’re in Dallas and still haven’t gone back to work?”

  “Something like that,” Roman said.

  Royal grinned. “So, taking time off was good after all. Don’t you hate it when I’m right?”

  The thought of Holly hit Roman belly high. It was all he could do not to groan from the pain that came with it, but Royal was too busy congratulating himself to notice.

  “You obviously didn’t get to fish, but at least you got some rest,” Royal said, and then glanced over his shoulder to make sure Maddie wasn’t eavesdropping on their conversation. “I can tell you, if that had been me, I would have slept the clock around before I ever got out of bed. Between my daughter and the ranch, I can’t remember the last time I overslept.”

  “Didn’t sleep all that much,” Roman said.

  Royal frowned. “Why not?”

  “I kept waiting for the woman on the sofa to snore.”

  Royal’s mouth dropped open. Before he could speak, Maddie burst into the room, running barefoot and wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt that was inside out. Miss Piggy had obviously been laid to rest.

  “Uncle Roman! Uncle Roman!”

  He scooped her off the floor and into his arms, grinning as she threw her arms around his neck and plastered his face with kisses.

  “I’ve been wondering where you were,” Roman said. “Some strange lady met me at the door.”

  Maddie giggled. “That was me.”

  “No!” he gasped, pretending great surprise.

  She giggled again, and began tracing the dark arch of his eyebrows with the tip of her finger, giggling even harder when he made them wiggle beneath her touch.

  “Uncle Roman?”

  He nuzzled the side of her neck, stealing kisses on a ticklish spot beneath her right ear.

  “What, Little Bit?”

  “You knew it was me, didn’t you?”

  “Knew who was you?” he asked, pretending to be puzzled by her remark.

  She threw her arms into the air in a gesture of surprise.

  “Miss Piggy! I was Miss Piggy!”

  “No!”

  “Yes, yes, I was!” Then she looked at Royal. “Daddy, isn’t it funny? I fooled Uncle Roman.”

  “Yeah, it’s real funny,” her father said, as always marveling at the remarkable change that one small female could make in Roman Justice’s demeanor.

  Roman set Maddie down and then took her by the hand. “Come on, kid. We’ve got to see a cat about some fleas.”

  Royal frowned. “Hey, Roman. About the woman on—”

  “Not now,” Roman said. “Maddie and I have something important to do.”

  Royal followed them into the living room, grumbling all the way.

  “Dang it, Roman, you can’t just drop a bombshell like that on me and then expect me to ignore it.”

  Roman picked up the sack he’d brought and started out the door.

  “First things first,” he said. “If you need us, we’ll be at the barn.”

  Royal thrust a hand through his hair in frustration. “What’s at the barn?”

  Roman turned. “A flea-bit cat.”

  Royal’s face turned red. “Now, look here. Don’t resurrect a mess that’s already been ironed out.”

  Roman held up the sack. “No mess. Just flea powder and a cute little pink collar.”

  Royal groaned. “Damn it, Roman. I won’t have a cat in the house.”

  “I didn’t say anything about bringing it in the house,” Roman said. “We’re just getting rid of the fleas so she can play with it. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

  Royal was caught and he knew it. His eyes narrowed, and it was all he could do not to punch his brother square in the nose. Add to that, his daughter was clinging to Roman’s hand like a cocklebur with a look on her face he couldn’t bring himself to ignore.

  “Fine, then,” Royal muttered.

  Roman grinned. “Come on, Maddie. Let’s go find us a kitty.”

  She was so excited she tore free of Roman’s grasp and bolted for the barn, her bare feet churning up the dust as she ran.

  Royal stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Before you completely spoil my child, you ought to get one of your own.”

  “Been thinking about it,” Roman said, and then went to catch up with his niece.

  For the second time in the space of five minutes, Roman had stunned Royal into speechlessness. All he could do was gape as Roman disappeared into the barn. Snowbound with snoring women? Having children? What the hell had Roman been doing at the cabin anyway?

  It was ninety degrees and climbing when the private jet Davis Benton had chartered touched down in Las Vegas. Gordon and Billy Mallory were about to embark upon the next phase of their lives. It was one that would either make them or break them. Billy was scared half out of his mind. Gordon was riding an adrenaline high. Within the hour, they would be housed beneath the same roof as a woman he’d intended to kill. They’d fled Las Vegas because of a murder he hadn’t planned to commit. Now here they were, in essence, returning in style to the scene of the crime. Gordon had come to the conclusion that he was invincible. Somehow he would discover the whereabouts of his money before Holly regained her memory. And thanks to Benton’s misplaced generosity, Billy was going to have the best of care while Gordon rectified the mistakes his little brother had made. It was a perfect plan. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

  Medical personnel were on hand as they touched down, obviously waiting for their arrival. Before Gordon had time to disembark, they were on board, readying Billy for transport to the Benton estate. There, a special room and private nursing had been set up for his around-the-clock care. Gordon had been released from the hospital with the understanding that he would see his personal physician as a follow-up for his healing ribs. Gordon had willingly agreed. At that point, Gordon would have agreed to anything.

  As they started to lift Billy from the stretcher onto the waiting gurney, Gordon laid a hand on Billy’s arm.

  “Take it easy, little brother. No one’s going to hurt you. I promise.”

  Weary from the trip, as well as arguing with a brother who had visions of grandeur that would probably get them both killed, Billy closed his eyes, gritting his teeth against the pain of being moved. The problem with Gordon was, he dreamed big but thought small. Billy was too injured to fight the inevitability of the ax he expected to fall. He had nightmares about sleeping under Holly Benton’s roof, of waking up to find her standing over his bed and pointing an accusing finger in his face. But as always, Gordon hadn’t listened to him. Gordon was the big brother and, therefore, the one who must always be in charge. And like the follower he was, Billy hadn’t enough gumption to strike out on his own. Instead, he continued to follow in Gordon’s footsteps, no matter how deep the mud in which they walked.

  Davis glanced out the library window as the ambulance pulled up to the estate.

  “They’re here,” he said, and dashed out of the room before Holly had a chance to react.

  Frowning, she followed her father out of the room. The closer she got to the front door, the slower her steps became. She couldn’t get past the notion that she was moving toward danger.

  Damn you, Roman Justice. I don’t want to do this alone.

  But she kept walking, well aware that if he were standing by her side, he would expect her to make these last steps alone. I’m not welcoming anybody, she thought. I’m only finding my way to the truth.

  Up ahead, she heard voices in the foyer. She recognized her father’s, probably directing traffic—and then some people spouted jargon that branded them as medical personnel. But it was the loud, jovial male voice that made her pause in midstep. A memory of something dark, something awful, tugged at the back of her mind. The urge to turn and run was strong. Then she reminded herself t
hat she was home, that nothing could hurt her here. And still she stood out of sight, listening and trying to remember.

  “I say, Davis, this is wonderfully kind of you,” Gordon said. “Billy’s had a rough flight and is looking forward to rest, aren’t you, Billy?”

  Billy nodded, then pointed toward a small bag that a maid was carrying away.

  “Those are my things.”

  Gordon laughed. “She’s only taking them to your room,” he explained. “Besides, you won’t be needing them for a while.”

  Down the hall, Holly suddenly felt the floor beginning to tilt. The words she’d just heard had triggered an unpleasant memory.

  Where you’re going, you won’t be needing them.

  She reached toward a nearby wall for support as her legs threatened to give way. Swallowing several times in nervous succession, she closed her eyes and took slow, calming breaths, trying to rid herself of the terror that had swamped her. But as hard as she tried, she couldn’t get past it. Somewhere before, she’d heard that same voice, saying nearly the same thing to her. But it hadn’t been said as lightly as it had been just now. When she’d heard it, there had been a real and tangible threat behind every single syllable.

  She could hear them! They were coming closer now, and every instinct she had told her not to let them see her fear. In the midst of her panic, Roman’s words came back to her so strong, it was as if he were standing beside her, saying them again for the first time.

  The truth will set you free.

  She took a slow, calming breath and straightened her shoulders. When the men came around the comer, she was ready and waiting.

  Davis knew Holly had been unhappy about the arrival of the Mallory brothers and was pleased she had come to greet them.

  “Holly, darling, there you’are! We’re in the process of getting everyone settled.”

  “I heard,” she said, and then turned her full attention to the man at her father’s side.

  The smile on Gordon’s face slipped, but only a little. Play the part, he reminded himself. Play the part.

  “Holly! Darling!”

  Before she could react, Gordon had embraced her.

  “The last time I saw you, it was so awkward. Me lying flat on my back in the hospital, and your dear little face so full of fear.”

  Holly withdrew from his touch as if she’d accidentally walked into something foul.

  Gordon’s face flushed with anger, but he refrained from comment, pretending he hadn’t seen a thing.

  “Well, now,” he said heartily. “I’d better see Billy settled in before we make any plans.”

  Holly gave her father an angry glance. She’d warned him about pushing her into something that didn’t feel right. If he thought she was going to knuckle under, rather than make a fuss, he had another think coming.

  “We have no plans to make,” she said shortly.

  This time, Gordon made no effort to hide his displeasure. He looked at Davis, as if waiting for him to smooth things over. But Davis had already seen Holly’s mood for himself, and wisely, decided to make himself scarce.

  “I’ll just show them the way to Billy’s room,” Davis said quickly. “Lunch will be in thirty minutes. See you then.”

  He walked away, leaving Gordon and Holly alone in the hall to sort out their own affairs.

  Forced to deal with the issue himself, Gordon turned his attention to Holly.

  “It seems we’ve been left on our own. That was thoughtful. Your father knows we would have plenty of things to discuss.”

  Holly’s expression never wavered. “He’s mistaken. There is no ‘we’ and there’s nothing to discuss.”

  Gordon wanted to shake her. He wanted to put his hands around her tiny white throat and squeeze until she admitted what she’d done with his money. But that was too premature. That might come later...if his other plans didn’t work out.

  “Holly, darling, you just don’t remember. We meant everything to each other...you mean everything to me!”

  Again, Holly recoiled as if she’d been slapped.

  Gordon flushed and reached for her arm. “Damn it, you’re not being fair.”

  She stepped out of his reach. “No, Mr. Mallory, you’re the one who’s not being fair. We have nothing to discuss, because I have no memory of you, or of us.”

  “We were on our way to Nassau! We were going to be married!”

  She frowned. “So I’ve been told.”

  “Then how can you be so cruel as to ignore my feelings? Don’t you know how much your withdrawal has hurt me?”

  Now Holly was certain her instincts about him had been right. Hurt him? Didn’t he know how much fear and confusion she’d been dealing with?

  “You miss the point, Mr. Mallory. I can’t ignore something I never knew existed. And if you cared for me as much as you claimed, you wouldn’t be pushing me. Now, please excuse me. As my father said, lunch will be served shortly. I’m sure we’ll see you then.”

  She walked away, leaving Gordon alone in the hall with his thoughts. And while they were far from kind, it wasn’t what bothered him most. It was that cool, assessing look in her eyes, as if she’d just taken his measure and found him lacking.

  Royal was in the kitchen, finishing the dishes from their noontime meal. He glanced out the window, as always, checking to see where his daughter had gone, although with Roman still here, she wouldn’t go far. He could hear the creak of the porch swing, and an occasional murmur of voices. That meant they were on the back porch, probably still playing with that damned kitten, although he had to admit that since Roman had given it a bath and a good dusting of flea powder, it was sort of cute. And Maddie was beside herself with delight. It had been all he could do to coax her inside long enough to eat lunch before she’d begged to go back outside.

  He gave the last pan a good rinse and set it aside to drain before drying his hands. He still didn’t have any satisfactory answers from Roman about what had gone on at the cabin, but he would have before the day was out or know the reason why.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, as he stepped out on the porch.

  Roman pointed. Maddie was dragging a piece of string behind her, while the kitten scrambled after it, trying to pounce.

  “Frisky little beggar,” Royal said, and sat down on the steps.

  Roman nodded.

  Royal sighed and gave his brother a studied look, then glanced up at the sky. The air was muggy. Far off on the horizon, a line of thunderheads was building.

  “Probably rain before morning,” he said.

  Roman squinted up at the sky. “Probably.”

  Royal shifted gears. “At least we won’t have to worry about this rain turning to snow.”

  The mere mention of snow made Roman think of Holly, which wasn’t difficult since she’d rarely been off his mind. He glanced down and then quickly raised his feet as the kitten came racing toward him. It scampered beneath the swing, with Maddie not far behind.

  As she started to run past, Roman scooped her off of her feet and into his arms.

  “But, Uncle Roman, Flea-bit is going to get away!” she cried, struggling to get down.

  “No, she won’t,” Roman said. “See, there she comes now. Why don’t you sit here with me awhile. Flea-bit needs to rest. She’s only a baby, remember?”

  Maddie nodded. “But I could hold her.”

  “No, honey, it’s too hot to hold her. She’ll be cooler if you just let her be for a while.”

  Maddie sighed, but she knew better than to argue. While she sometimes talked her daddy into a compromise, when her uncle Roman put his foot down, it stayed put.

  “Okay,” she said, and leaned back in his arms.

  Roman winked at Royal and then set the swing to rocking—not a lot—just enough of a gentle to and fro that lulled Maddie into a much needed sleep. The kitten was down at his feet, less willing to give up the play, but it, too, soon succumbed to the lazy afternoon heat.

  Royal leaned back against the
porch post, watching the ease with which Roman had put his daughter to sleep.

  “Thanks,” Royal said. “She needed that.”

  Roman looked down at the sleeping child in his arms—at the dark, flyaway hair and lashes so thick they made shadows on her plump cheeks.

  “It was my pleasure,” Roman said softly, and smiled.

  Instead of breaking the mood by taking Maddie inside, Royal stayed put, aware that Roman could hardly bolt and run with Maddie asleep in his arms.

  “Roman.”

  Roman looked up. Here it comes, he thought.

  “What happened at the cabin?”

  Roman sighed. As much as he wanted to keep Holly to himself, there were too many extenuating factors to ignore.

  “There was a woman at the cabin when I got there.”

  Royal stiffened. “What happened? Did she break in? Was anything missing?”

  Roman shook his head. “No, no, nothing like that.”

  “Then talk, damn it. I never did like guessing games.”

  “She’d been injured. There were scratches all over her and blood on her clothes. Had a hell of a knot on her head.” He thought back to the look on her face when she’d seen him pointing the gun at her head. “And she was scared to death.”

  “Man,” Royal muttered. “Car wreck?”

  Roman shook his head. “Nope. Parachute.”

  “What?”

  “Remember me asking you to find out if a plane had gone down anywhere in the area?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Turns out she’d been a passenger on that plane. Only someone strapped a parachute on her and dumped her out a short while before it crashed.”

  “Good lord! Why?”

  “We don’t know.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know? Didn’t she tell you anything?” Royal asked.

  Roman shook his head. “She couldn’t. She has amnesia. Right now, she’s operating on instinct.”

  “What happened to her? Where is she at?” Royal asked.

  “Back in Las Vegas, with her father.”

  Royal’s eyes widened with sudden understanding.

  “Are you telling me that you found Davis Benton’s daughter? The one everyone thought was dead?”