"Is that why you're agreeing with me, just to get me off your back?" She grinned at him and pushed a strand of hair away from her face, leaving a trail of soapsuds across her cheek.
"I didn't say I agreed with you," he grumbled, smiling in spite of himself as she turned back to her chore. "Besides, who said I wanted you off my back?" His voice dropped as he watched the subtle tug of her jeans against her rounded fanny as she moved back and forth at the sink.
"Good, it's settled, then." Throwing an impish smile over her shoulder, she said, "I'll check with Josie and then we can leave."
The sink made a sucking sound as she pulled the plug. She hurried out of the room. After a moment he shook himself and stood up. If he didn't watch himself, he was going to be in way too deep. There was no way anything could work out for him and Sarah. They both knew that once he found out the truth about his father he was leaving Pine Butte, and there was no way he could ask her to go with him. Hell, she couldn't go with him if she wanted to. And he knew her well enough to know she would never abandon her patients here in Pine Butte, not even for him.
Twenty minutes later they were sweating in her old truck, bouncing up the steep grade to the entrance of the Wesley mine. They hadn't said much on the drive, and now she looked at him, worry in her eyes.
"What exactly are you going to do?"
"I'm not really sure," he answered slowly. "I know damn well that Ralph Wesley and your cousin Richard aren't going to tell me anything, and I'm not stupid enough to ask them any direct questions. Two accidents in a week are plenty."
He stared out the window, not noticing the breathtaking scenery all around him. "But there has to be someone who knows something besides them," he said slowly. "A lot of these guys have worked at the mine forever, right?"
She nodded. "There aren't that many other jobs in Pine Butte." Her voice was subdued.
"So I'm just going to keep my eyes open. If anyone looks guilty, or scared, or anything other than curious, I'll talk to them later, when Ralph and Richard aren't around to stifle the conversation."
"Don't you think that if there had been something suspicious about your father's death, and anyone else knew about it, there would have been rumors long ago?"
He heard the agony in her voice and longed to comfort her. But there was nothing he could say. Before he was finished, he had no doubt that her family would be implicated, one way or another.
"Maybe not. He was dead, and my mother and I sure didn't have a lot of friends in this town. Nobody was going to stick up for the foreigner's widow and wild kid, that's for sure."
"Connor, I'm so sorry about that," she said impulsively. "Nobody here is like that anymore, believe me."
A sarcastic answer formed on his lips, but he closed his mouth as he looked at her. "Maybe not," he said finally, astonished to realize that she might be right. Not a soul he'd talked to at the picnic yesterday had been anything but courteous and polite. They were all reserved, but he acknowledged grudgingly that they had good reason to be. Undoubtedly they all thought what even Sarah had believed was true – that he'd gotten Barb Wesley pregnant, then run off and left her to die by herself.
"From everything I've heard, maybe you gave them good reasons to dislike you," she said softly.
"I was just a kid."
"Who didn't act like the other kids," she pointed out. "Maybe they were afraid of your influence on their sons and daughters. These are average, middle-class, conservative people, Connor. You were probably a wonderful person." He heard her voice soften and wanted to reach out for her, right there on the road. "But you never gave them a chance to find out. You were too busy acting out your pain and anger.
"Think of it from their point of view," she urged. "Parents are already scared when their kids hit puberty and the teenage years, and most of them try to clamp down even harder on their own kids. Imagine how you would feel about a wild rebel in your midst if you were a parent, you'd be pretty nervous, too."
He was silent for a long time. Finally he said, "How did you get to be so damn wise at your age? You don't even have any kids of your own." His voice was gruff.
"I just listen to what my patients tell me." She glanced at him, her eyes tender. "How did you know how to talk to Danny Franklin when you don't have any kids of your own?"
He opened his mouth to respond to her when he saw the entrance to the mine ahead of them on the road. Swiveling around in his seat, he snapped to attention as they passed the gates. Sarah waved casually to the man sitting there in a folding chair.
"Here we are," she said, unnecessarily. "Are you ready?"
"I've been ready for eighteen years."
* * *
Chapter 12
«^»
Sarah drove toward the old two-story building that housed the offices of Wesley Mining, Inc. Dusty and in need of a coat of paint, it squatted on the side of the mountain, looking as if a strong wind would send it down into the parking lot below.
Dreary and cheerless, that office had always seemed to Sarah a perfect symbol of the mine itself. Employees hurried from place to place, heads down and unsmiling. A line of men stood beside the tracks and waited for the ore cars to shoot out of the hole in the ground. As they hurried to unload them, there was no talking or joking. They worked in grim silence, barely emptying one car before another took its place.
"Fun place," Connor muttered as he stepped out of the truck.
"Uncle Ralph doesn't believe in having fun at work," she answered dryly. "All work and no play makes the Wesleys a lot more money."
"And makes accidents like Chet's inevitable. Those ore cars are coming too close together. Even I can see that." He stood, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans, and watched the men work for a minute. "For your sake, I hope Chet don't hire a sharp lawyer."
"Why would it matter to me? If he's entitled to compensation for his accident, I hope he gets it."
He looked at her, a question in his eyes. "Your father owned part of this mine, didn't he?"
She nodded. "He did, but apparently he sold his share to Uncle Ralph before he died. I have nothing to do with Wesley Mining."
"And no income from it." His eyes were shrewd as he watched her. "Good old Ralph is sleazier than even I thought."
"I wouldn't take any money from Uncle Ralph if he got down on his knees and begged me." Her voice rose passionately, and she cleared her throat and jammed her hands under her armpits. As hot as the day was, even thinking about accepting anything from her uncle chilled her. "I'm still paying for the last time he 'helped' me. No, I don't want anything to do with the business."
Connor nodded his head toward the old office building. "Apparently your buddy Richard doesn't feel the same way."
Her cousin hurried toward them. Even from a distance she could see the fury on his face. "He's Uncle Ralph's son. Naturally he feels like the mine is his business, too."
Connor turned to look at her. The expression on his face was almost unbearably tender. "I think you could find an excuse for a serial killer. You're too nice, Sarah. You don't belong in this family."
She raised her head. "I'm proud to be a Wesley. My father was a wonderful man."
He took a step closer to her. "Don't ever make the mistake of thinking that you're like Ralph and Richard. They're not fit to lick the mud from your shoes." He stood barely a foot away from her. She would have stepped into his arms if her cousin Richard hadn't come blustering up at that moment.
"What are you doing here, MacCormac? This is private property. Get out! Get out of here right now!"
"Chill out, Richard. He came with me." Sarah turned to face her cousin. "I have a bunch of papers you need to sign about Chet's accident. Let's go into the office and take care of them."
"He doesn't have anything to do with Chet's accident."
"He was a witness to the extent of the injury," she improvised quickly, ignoring the wink Connor sent her. "But he doesn't need to sign any papers. He can wait for us out here."
&nbs
p; She grabbed her cousin's arm and steered him toward the ramshackle building. She glanced over her shoulder once when Richard glared behind her. Connor was leaning against the side of her truck, his arms crossed over his chest, looking faintly bored.
"This shouldn't take too long," she soothed as they walked into the depressing building. "You know how the government is, especially when it comes to workers' compensation. They need to have everything spelled out, then written down in triplicate. Since you're in charge out here, you're the one who has to answer most of the questions." They walked into Richard's office and Sarah positioned herself so she blocked her cousin's view out the window. Perched on the edge of his desk, she pushed a paper toward him and showed him where to sign. Every once in a while she risked a glance over her shoulder, looking for Connor in the yard.
Fifteen minutes later, she couldn't think of another excuse to keep him in the office. Standing up, she gathered the sheaf of papers together and waved him into his chair. "You don't need to see me out," she said breezily. "I can find my way."
Her cousin stared at her for a moment, then stood up. "That's all right, Sarah, I don't mind in the least." His voice was flat and ominous.
She should have remembered that Richard wasn't really stupid. Just because he caved in to his father didn't mean she could push him around easily. She hoped to God that Connor had finished whatever it was he intended to do and was waiting by the side of the truck when they walked out.
But when they stepped into the bright sunlight, Connor was nowhere in sight. She felt Richard stiffen beside her, and suddenly he broke into a run.
Hurrying to keep up with him, she clutched the papers under her arm to prevent them from scattering across the parking lot. When Richard got to her truck, he stopped abruptly and looked around.
"Where is he?" He was furious. "What are the two of you trying to pull?"
"Where is who?" At least she could stall for a little more time.
Her cousin grabbed her arm roughly and shook her. "Don't play your little games with me, Sarah. What's going on?"
"Let go of her, Wesley. Now."
Connor's low, deadly voice came from behind Richard, and he dropped her arm and spun around.
"You touch her again and you're a dead man. Understand, Wesley?"
"She's my cousin. And you can't tell me what to do."
Connor's eyes narrowed and his face hardened. "I'm only going to tell you one more time. If you so much as breathe heavily on Sarah, I'm going to kick your worthless tail into the next county. And I'll be waiting for you there when you finally wake up."
Richard took step backward. When he was out of arm's reach, he sneered, "How touching. Too bad you didn't feel as strongly about her sister, MacCormac."
Connor's eyes flashed, but he relaxed against the truck, refusing to be baited. "That's ancient history. And you will be, too, if you bother Sarah again. Am I making myself clear?"
Richard took another step backward. "Where were you?" he demanded, apparently deciding to take the offensive. "This mine is private property."
Connor watched him for a moment, and Sarah saw the rage slowly disappearing from his eyes and his usual scorn for Richard taking its place. Finally he answered, "Just looking around. You've got a real interesting setup here, Wesley."
Richard stared, thrown off-balance by Connor's remark. "Well, it's none of your business," he muttered. "And if you're looking for a job, the answer's no."
Connor laughed with real amusement. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Wesley. I don't think you have to worry about having another MacCormac working at the Wesley mine."
Sarah saw her cousin stiffen at the mention of Connor's father, but it was so slight that she didn't think Connor had noticed.
"No," he continued as he pushed away from the truck, "I was just admiring your operation here." He waved his hand toward the yawning opening in the side of the mountain. "Very precise and tidy." He faced Richard again. "There isn't even a pile of rocks lying around. But then, you always did have a problem with anything out of order. Still demanding perfection even in the messy world of gold mining, are you?"
Richard's face bleached white and he took another step backward. Then, gathering himself, he moved toward Connor, his eyes glittering. "Get out of here. Now." His furious gaze swept over Sarah, as well. "Both of you. And don't come back here. If there are any more papers that have to be signed about Chet's accident, I'll come in to your office in town to sign them."
Connor didn't move. "Maybe the lady doesn't want you in her office, either. If I were Sarah, I wouldn't be too anxious to be seen publicly with you."
Her cousin's face twisted with rage and he moved blindly toward Connor. Sarah suspected that it was just what Connor had been hoping he'd do. Grabbing Connor's arm, she said to him, "Let's go. Don't let him make you do something you'll regret."
His arm was as hard and tense as an iron bar. Slowly he looked at her, and she saw the rage fade from his eyes. "Something that he'd regret, you mean." His voice was soft and deadly, and his gaze flickered over her cousin.
"He's not worth it, Connor. Not now."
After a long moment she felt his muscles ease just a little. "You're right. Let's go, Sarah. We both have more important things to do."
She didn't let go of his arm until he was in the cab of the truck. Then she hurried around to the other side, jumped in and started the engine. The heat in the cab was stifling and the hot steering wheel burned her hands. Still she gripped it like a lifeline as she carefully drove out of the wide mine yard.
When she was out of sight of the mine entrance and any curious eyes, she pulled the truck over to the side of the road and killed the engine. Leaning back against the cushion, she took a deep, shaky breath.
"I thought you were going to kill him."
"I wanted to." He reached out gently and took the arm that Richard had been holding. Pushing up the sleeve of her T-shirt, he looked at her upper arm.
When she glanced down, she saw the faint imprint of her cousin's fingers. She tried to pull away from Connor, but he held on and stared at the marks on her arm. When he finally looked at her, she sucked in her breath at the expression on his face.
The rage and anger were gone. All that was left was a deadly, determined glitter in his eyes, one that was completely implacable. "Richard Wesley," he said, his voice cold and distant, "is going to regret the day he was born."
"I'm all right, Connor. He didn't hurt me. I just bruise very easily." She was babbling. My God, she'd never seen anyone look like this before. He looked like a deadly, impersonal machine bent on vengeance.
She laid her hand on his arm. "Connor, remember why you're here. This is about your father, not me. I can handle my cousin."
"So can I." His voice was so soft she had to strain to hear him. "And I will."
"Please, Connor. Don't let this distract you. You need to focus on what happened to your father, not the way my cousin treats me. Can't you just forget about it?"
"What do you mean? Has he done this before?"
She should have known he would pick up on her little slip of the tongue. "I can handle Richard," she repeated. "You know how bullies are. They back right down the minute anyone challenges them." She lifted her chin. "He knows he can't push me around."
For a long moment the air in the truck was supercharged with emotion. Finally she felt him relax slightly. Leaning back against the seat cushion, he drawled, "I smell a good story here. What happened?"
Flushing, she shifted in her seat and reached for the ignition key. "It wasn't anything, really. A couple of years ago I saw several of the men from the mine with back problems. After talking to them, I realized that the ergonomic of their work stations was wrong. I told them what they had to do to stop hurting their backs, and told them they couldn't go back to work until it was fixed."
"And Richard didn't like that much." It was a statement rather than a question.
"Not at all," she said ruefully. "When he came into
the office to complain about my advice, we got into a little fight."
"And?" he prompted.
She shrugged, smiling a little. "He fixed what was wrong at the mine and nobody has had back problems since. At least not because of that particular job."
"How exactly did you persuade him?"
She grinned, remembering the fierce triumph she'd felt when her cousin had caved in without a word. "I promised him I wouldn't tell anyone else. But he knows better than to threaten me again."
Not enough, though, to get rid of the mistress he had tucked discreetly away in Meeker. As long as his crotch ruled his brain and he stayed married to his very particular wife, she had nothing to fear from her cousin.
She glanced at Connor, sitting so close to her, and saw that he had relaxed. Exhaling slowly, she eased the truck into gear, pulled onto the road and headed toward town.
"You did that very well," he said after a while.
"What?" She looked over at him.
"Don't look so innocent. You defused that situation like a pro. Just don't think I'm going to forget about that sorry excuse for a man that you call your cousin. From now on, I'm going to be on him like ugly on an ape. If he knows what's good for him, he's not going to get any closer to you than he would to a cougar."
"Thank you, Connor," she said after a while. Her eyes prickled with tears and her heart expanded in her chest. "No one has ever stood up for me before. I think I like it."
"Your cousin won't bully you again, at least not as long as I'm in town," he said gruffly.
A cold chill pricked down her skin. As long as he was in town. Those were the operative words, weren't they?
Despite what had happened between them the night before, he had no plans to stay in Pine Butte. But he'd never told her otherwise. He'd said from the beginning that he was here only to find out what had happened to his father. Even last night, in the throes of passion, he hadn't made any promises.
AN INNOCENT MAN Page 17
