Deanna hesitated, waiting for Luke to make an objection, but he didn’t say a word. When she glanced at him, he looked away.
She took Tyler’s arm. “Thank you. I think I would like a nice stroll before turning in.”
The minute Tyler and Deanna walked out the front door, Kizzie turned to Luke. “Well, what do you make of that?”
“I’d say Tyler finds Deanna to be a beautiful, interesting woman,” Luke said. “And God knows Tyler has a way with the ladies.”
“So, you don’t mind him walking Deanna to the cottage?”
“Why should I mind?”
“I don’t suppose you should, if she doesn’t mean anything to you,” Kizzie said. “A woman can take only so much rejection before she gives up and starts looking elsewhere.” With that, Kizzie left Luke standing alone in the living room.
He sucked in a deep breath, then released it. Deanna had wanted him to walk her to the cottage, not Tyler. He’d seen the silent plea in her eyes. Why the hell hadn’t he said something? Why hadn’t he told his little brother that Deanna was his woman and that if anybody was going to walk her home, he was?
Because she wasn’t his. She hadn’t been his girl since they were kids. He had no claim on Deanna. Not anymore.
He’d sworn that she would never get under his skin again. That he’d never allow her to have control over him the way she once had. And yet here he was, jealous of his own brother. The very thought that Tyler might hold Deanna’s hand, might put his arm around her, might even kiss her good-night, tortured Luke.
But why did he care? What difference did it make? God only knew how many men there had been in Deanna’s life and in her bed during the past fifteen years. Even as an inexperienced girl, Deanna had been an adventurous, eager lover. She had enjoyed sex far too much to have remained celibate all these years.
But those men were nameless faces in the past. Tyler was in the present—the here and now. And he was his brother, dammit!
He couldn’t just sit around the house and brood. If he did, he’d go out of his mind. He had to get away, had to escape. And the sooner the better.
“Beautiful night,” Tyler said as he walked alongside Deanna. “We could use a little rain soon. Been over a week now and as hot as it’s getting, things could start drying out.”
“Do you think my family’s responsible for those dead cattle?” she asked.
Tyler stopped abruptly and turned to look down at her. “I honestly don’t know. But you’re asking the wrong man if you want somebody to defend your family. I’m Luke’s brother, and I might have been only fifteen when he went to prison, but I know who was responsible for putting him there.”
“I was.” Lowering her head, Deanna stared down at the ground.
Tyler lifted her chin. He smiled. Deanna liked his smile. Warm and kind, like Kizzie’s wide-mouthed grins.
“You were just a kid yourself—what, seventeen? I was in the courtroom the day you testified. Grant and me. And I saw how scared you were. If you hadn’t been testifying against Luke, I’d have felt sorry for you.”
Deanna laughed mournfully, then tossed back her head and clicked her tongue. “I remember, you know. Now. I remember seeing Luke stick the pitchfork in the ground and walk away. Why couldn’t I have remembered that fact fifteen years ago?”
“Even if you had remembered, do you think your mother would have allowed you to take the stand and tell everybody that Luke didn’t kill your father?” Tyler released her chin. “She wanted Luke out of your life and seeing him convicted of manslaughter was one sure way to do it. Besides, if she was covering up for the real murderer—”
“You think she did just that, don’t you?”
“I think that if you ever regain all your memory, we’ll know for sure. That’s the only way we’ll clear Luke’s name and make the guilty party pay for what he or she did.”
“My brother calls me every day, pleading with me to come back to the Circle A, to leave Montrose and Luke.” Deanna grasped Tyler’s arm. “They don’t want me to remember. They’re afraid that if I stay here, my memory will return and they won’t have any control of me. They want me back home with them so they can—Oh, God, Tyler, what if this was a warning to me? What if killing Luke’s cattle was a way of saying that if I know what’s best for Luke, I’ll—”
“You’re jumping to conclusions.” Tyler slipped his arm around her shoulder and hugged her to his side. “Don’t borrow trouble, honey. It’ll find you soon enough.”
Luke stood on the porch, watching Tyler put his arm around Deanna’s shoulder and hug her. Every possessive instinct in Luke urged him to fly out across the yard, rip Deanna from Tyler’s arms and beat the hell out of his own brother.
All he could think about was that she was his. It didn’t matter that he’d spent fifteen years hating her, or that she had betrayed him, or that he was still as unworthy of Deanna Atchley as he’d been at twenty. Nothing mattered except claiming the woman he wanted, the woman his body demanded belonged to him.
Luke rounded the house, avoiding the evening strollers. He headed straight for the stables, saddled Cherokee and rode off into the night. He could escape the sight of Deanna in his brother’s arms, but he could never escape the memories that haunted him. Memories of a girl who had once said she would love him forever—and then some. Memories of a woman who had said, but I didn’t want any other baby. Only yours.
Chapter 10
Luke pulled his pickup truck alongside the sheriff’s car parked at the side of the house. What was Tyler doing here at seven in the morning? Surely he didn’t already have new information about the senseless cattle slaughter yesterday. No, more than likely Tyler had come back because of Deanna. Luke had expected more loyalty from his brother. Didn’t Tyler know how he felt about Deanna?
Luke hopped down out of the truck cab, slammed the door and stared at Tyler’s car.
How the hell should Tyler know what his big brother’s feelings for Deanna Atchley were, when Luke himself didn’t know? Did he still hate her? Yes. And no. Did he want her? Definitely yes.
Since Luke hadn’t put a brand on Deanna since she’d returned to Stone Creek, maybe Tyler thought she was fair game. He’d have to set his brother straight on the matter. He’d have to do it this morning.
When Luke walked into the kitchen, he found Tyler sharing breakfast with his mother, who paused to look up and smile.
“Any signs of trouble this morning?” Kizzie asked. “No more dead cattle anywhere?”
“Everything seems to be fine,” Luke told her. “Les and Bud are still out checking on cattle, while Jim and Herb handle things here. I’ve instructed Les to hire a couple of part-time men to help out for the time being. Until we see whether yesterday’s incident was a one-time happening or just the beginning.”
“Deanna seems concerned that her family is somehow involved,” Tyler said. “She’s awfully worried about—”
“Just how long did you stay over at the cottage with Deanna last night, after you walked her home?” The question shot out of Luke’s mouth like a high-speed bullet.
Tyler grinned. Kizzie glanced back and forth between her two boys, a look of concern in her eyes.
“What business is it of yours, big brother, how long I stayed?” Tyler sliced into his pancakes and shoved a huge bite into his mouth.
Luke glared at him, but didn’t respond. He poured himself a cup of coffee, removed his plate from the oven where Alva had placed it to keep warm, and sat down at the table.
Tyler swallowed, then took a swig of coffee. “I didn’t spend the night, if that’s what’s bothering you.”
“Tyler,” Kizzie cautioned.
“There are plenty of other women around,” Luke said. “Stay away from Deanna.” Luke added salt and pepper to the scrambled eggs Alva always prepared for him.
“Didn’t know you still had a claim on the lady,” Tyler said.
“I don’t.” Luke picked up his fork, clutching it tightly.
; “Then you’re hardly in a position to put up No Trespassing signs around her, are you?”
Luke squeezed the fork so hard that he bent it. When he realized what he’d done, he tossed it onto the table, scooted back his chair and started to stand. “Dammit, Tyler—”
Kizzie reached over and grabbed Luke’s forearm. “No fighting at the breakfast table, boys. Remember my rules.”
Luke sat back down. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Sorry, Mama,” Tyler said. “And, Luke, I didn’t mean to rile you.” He grinned sheepishly. “Well, maybe I did, just a little. I wondered how you felt about Deanna and I knew you weren’t likely to tell me if I asked. Not the truth, anyway.”
“What do you mean by that?” Luke glared at his brother.
“You’ve spent a lot of years professing to hate Deanna Atchley, so I figured if I asked how you felt about her now, you’d tell me you still hated her. And I wouldn’t have believed you. So I had to needle you a little, to get a reaction, so I’d know.”
“And what do you know?” Luke asked.
“I know you’re very possessive of the lady, and that you’re jealous of me and probably any other man who even looks at her.”
“You’re crazy!”
“Am I? You saw me put my arm around her last night, didn’t you? How did that make you feel?”
“Boys, that’s enough of this. Tyler, Luke’s feelings for Deanna are none of your business.”
“What’s going on with Luke and Deanna may turn out to be the sheriff’s business, if her family is behind the killing of Montrose cattle.”
Tyler wiped his mouth on his napkin, eased back his chair and stood. He leaned down and kissed Kizzie’s cheek. “I’m going to check around a bit more out where the cattle were shot. See if I can find anything that might help us out. But I think I’ll stop by and say good-morning to our visitor in the guest cottage before I drive on out.”
Luke gritted his teeth. Damn Tyler for making him see red! Even though he knew what Tyler was doing, he still couldn’t help rising to the bait. Luke knew what kind of effect Sheriff McClendon had on the ladies and he didn’t want Deanna succumbing to his little brother’s charms.
“If I come up with anything, I’ll stop back by and tell you.” Tyler lifted his hat off the counter, placed it on his head and walked out the back door.
Luke dived into his breakfast like a starving man. If he kept his mouth full, he wouldn’t have to talk to his stepmother, who sat there inspecting him, probably waiting for a reaction.
“After what happened yesterday, you’ve got to know that girl’s been telling the truth all along,” Kizzie said.
Luke swallowed a mouthful of food. “She could have been acting.”
Kizzie huffed disgustedly. “Nobody’s that good an actress and you know it. Why can’t you admit that Deanna means what she says? She really did have partial amnesia all these years. She honestly wants to remember what happened when Rayburn was killed because she wants to help you.”
“Well, she’s a little late to help me, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know, son. Is she? Are you too far gone for anybody to help you?”
Kizzie’s words cut deeply, reopening a wound that had never really healed. When he’d first come to Montrose, seeking the man his mother had told him was his father, he’d been a lost boy—lonely, afraid and angry. He’d been just about too far gone then. Baxter and Kizzie’s acceptance and efforts to bring him into the family fold had saved him. But after he’d spent five years in Huntsville, he had become far more hardened, much angrier, and much more of a loner. Even his family’s support hadn’t kept him from turning inward, afraid to ever care about or trust anyone again. Not even the people who obviously loved him.
“I’m going to see if I can catch Tyler before he heads out.” Luke rose from his chair.
“He cares about you, you know,” Kizzie said. “The only reason he needled you the way he did, is because he cares.”
Luke nodded. “I don’t think I can change my ways.” Without another word or a backward glance, he walked out onto the porch and looked over at the cottage, just in time to see Deanna open her door and invite his brother inside.
Deanna propped the wicker clothes basket, filled with her dirty laundry, on her hip, then grabbed the knob and pulled the front door closed behind her. When she’d heard a knock at her door this morning, she had hoped it was Luke. She’d been waiting for him to come to her. But instead, Tyler had been on her doorstep. All smiles and charm, Tyler was the kind of man any woman would be interested in—unless she was already in love with his big brother. And she was still in love with Luke. She had to be or she wouldn’t still be here on Montrose, enduring his stony silences and bitter tirades.
Tyler hadn’t stayed long, just long enough to be friendly and reassuring. Two things Luke certainly didn’t know how to be. When Tyler had left her, she’d caught a glimpse of Luke stopping Tyler beside his car. She’d been too far away to hear their conversation, but when Luke got in the car with Tyler and rode away, she decided it must have had something to do with the dead cattle.
“Morning, Miss Deanna,” Alva said as she opened the kitchen door for Deanna. “Mrs. McClendon said when you came over to do your washing, she wanted to talk to you.”
“Oh? All right. Where is she?” Deanna headed for the laundry room.
Alva followed, grabbed the wicker basket from Deanna and placed it on top of the washer. “You run along into the office. Mrs. McClendon’s working on the payroll. I’ll take care of these things for you.”
“I can do my own washing. There’s no need—”
“Hush up and go on.” Alva swatted Deanna away.
“Thanks. I’ll go find Kizzie and see what she wants.”
“My bet is she wants to talk to you about Mr. Luke. He must have been in some state this morning. He bent one of the forks so bad I had to throw it away.”
“Luke bent...Was he upset about something?”
“That man is always upset about something.” Shooing her with her hands, Alva smiled warmly. “Go on now.”
Deanna found Kizzie behind the big oak desk in the office, a manly room with leather furniture and wood paneling. Pausing in the doorway, she cleared her throat. Kizzie looked up and smiled.
“Good morning,” Kizzie said. “Come on in.”
“I don’t want to disturb you, but Alva said you wanted to see me.”
“Yes, I did.” Kizzie motioned toward a leather wingback chair to the right of the desk. “Sit down, Deanna.”
Quivery sensations tapped on Deanna’s nerves, alerting her to danger. Emotional danger. There was a look of sadness in Kizzie’s eyes that warned Deanna this conversation was going to be about Luke.
Deanna took the seat indicated to her, crossed her legs at the ankles and laid her folded hands in her lap. And waited.
Kizzie laid aside the papers in her hand. “You look tired, girl. Didn’t you get any sleep last night?”
Deanna was surprised by Kizzie’s personal interest in her well-being. Luke’s stepmother hadn’t been friendly and welcoming. In fact she’d been cool and distant ever since Deanna had come to Montrose.
“No, I didn’t get much sleep. I’m afraid between all the memories bombarding my mind and my concern about what happened to your cattle, I wasn’t able to rest very well.”
“Have you had more of your memory return?”
“Yes, some. One thing in particular that I’d like to tell Luke.”
“Well, when you and I finish our conversation, I suggest you go find Luke and tell him. He’s working with that mustang again today and started work with another one. He has a way with animals, almost as if he can get inside their heads and know what they’re thinking.”
“Yes, he does.” Deanna paused, but when Kizzie just stared at her, she said, “Do you think Luke will see me today?”
“Don’t give him a choice. Just go out to the stables and tell him whatever it is you want him to know. Us
ually the direct approach is the only one that works with that boy.”
A tentative smile trembled on Deanna’s lips. “All right. I’ll give the direct approach a try.”
“Deanna—” Kizzie leaned forward, placing her hands on top of the desk. “I want you to know that I believe you. About your loss of memory and about your wanting to clear Luke’s name. I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, girl. You’d better not disappoint me. And you’d better not hurt Luke.”
“The last thing I want is to cause Luke any more hurt than I already have.”
“All right then, here’s what I want from you.”
Kizzie slapped her hands together. Deanna jumped, startled by the action.
“Luke’s been lost to us—Lord almighty, he’s been lost to himself—ever since he came home from Huntsville. Baxter and I did everything we knew to help him, but he wouldn’t let us reach him. He won’t let anybody get close enough to help him or hurt him. Nobody except you. You’re right thinking that you’re Luke’s last hope, his only hope.”
“Mrs. McClendon, I’m afraid that—”
“Call me Kizzie. If you and I are going to work together to help Luke, then we should be on a first-name basis, don’t you think?”
“I’m afraid that Luke won’t let me help him. He hates me and he’ll never trust me. No matter what I say or do.”
“That may be true,” Kizzie said. “But I don’t think Luke is as immune to you as he’d like to be. You’re the one weakness that might cause him to lower his defenses. If you can save that boy from himself...if you can convince him that he’s a man worthy of love and respect, I’ll be indebted to you forever.”
Deanna scooted to the edge of the chair seat, slumped her shoulders and stared down at the hardwood floor. With her head still bowed, she lifted her eyes and looked at Kizzie.
“If I could do what you’re asking, I would. But no matter how hard I try, Luke won’t give an inch. He’s determined to go on punishing me. He won’t let himself feel anything for me except hatred.”
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