by Jillian Hart
Brody didn’t need to write down the list and numbers. He memorized them before taking a step toward the refrigerator. He spied Michelle’s purse tossed on the counter. Keys, a few greenbacks, her wallet and a tube of lipstick had spilled out of the open zipper, as if she’d tossed it there in a hurry to unload the grocery bags he remembered that she’d been carrying.
When it came to Michelle, he remembered a lot. The way she walked—quick and fluid, like liquid gold. And how quick she was to smile. He was impressed by how nice she was, and she didn’t even seem to be aware of it. That was a rare woman, in his experience.
He closed off bad memories of terror and cruelty he’d seen over the years, and the weight of it hurt inside him. Like a wound too often reinjured to heal. It was heartening to see goodness, for a change. He knew that during the course of his investigation he would find nothing to incriminate Michelle. She was too good. And it made something in his closed-off heart brighten. As if touched by sunshine for the first time.
Maybe he’d spend some time here. Figure out if Michelle had any plans for the evening. She’d brought food home; she didn’t have a date? He hoped not. The center of his chest warmed with the intensity of a grow light, and it was an odd thing.
He reached into the top cupboard for a glass. Sure, he used to date, but he was never in one place long enough to keep a relationship going. It had always made him sad, but he’d known he wouldn’t be doing investigative work forever. It was a noble cause he served, and he figured there would be time later for love and commitment and family. If he was ever lucky enough.
Not that he was thinking in that direction, but—
He looked down. A serial number caught his attention. The folded twenty-dollar bill had only part of the sequence visible, poking out of Michelle’s wallet the way it was.
His jaw dropped. The blood in his veins turned to ice. The warmth in his chest faded into darkness. He inched the twenty-dollar bill out enough so that he could verify the number. Grabbed his cell phone, glanced over his shoulder to make sure he was alone and that the lilting mumble of Michelle’s voice was still coming from her bedroom overhead, before taking a picture with the camera on his phone.
Documented. He felt sick in his stomach, sick in his soul. He carefully checked the rest of her cash stuffed haphazardly in the expensive leather wallet. There was one other twenty, hidden between a five and three crumpled ones, but it was legit.
Just because she had a counterfeit bill didn’t mean she was guilty. It could have been passed to her in a number of ways. Those bills were in circulation around town and around Bozeman. Both places where she’d been recently.
Be real, Brody. You just don’t want to believe Michelle could be a criminal. Innocent-seeming Michelle, who made even his battle-scarred heart begin to feel.
Evidence. That’s what he was here to discover. And he’d just found a big piece of it.
Michelle just knew it was bad news. “No, don’t even tell me. You’re going to cancel tonight. Again.”
“I’m sorry. You know Karen has the same problem.”
“I know.” Michelle rolled her eyes. She wasn’t mad or anything, but she couldn’t be more disappointed. “It’s the husband factor. I know. You have to spend some time with him. It’s ridiculous, and I can’t understand why—”
The way she said it, with just enough teasing to hide her true feelings, made Kirby laugh.
“I know I cancelled last week for that very reason, but I have a much better excuse this time.” Kirby turned serious. “I received a medi-vac call about a half second ago. I’m on my way to the airstrip. Sam’s holding the chopper for me.”
Someone was seriously ill or hurt. How could Michelle begrudge them her sister? “You two fly safe. Call me tomorrow when you get up, okay?”
“I promise. Gotta go!”
At least Kendra was still coming. Michelle realized it would just be the two of them—the old maids of the family. And she’d bought two whole pizzas. That was wrong. Pizza couldn’t go to waste. Wasn’t it good that she intended to do the right thing and invite Brody to join them?
That made her smile as she blow-dried her hair, and chose a new pair of sandals to go with her favorite carpenter shorts and her new eyelet, V-necked top. She grabbed the phone and clipped on her gold bracelet her dad had given her when she graduated from high school as she headed down the hall.
Should she pick a movie or music for background noise? A movie, definitely, she thought as she descended the stairs. She’d pick a favorite romantic comedy, one they’d seen a few times before so they could listen without having to watch.
She walked into the living room. The TV was on. Did she do that? She couldn’t remember turning it on, but then she forgot a lot of stuff.
The chair moved and she squealed. For one split second fear paralyzed her and then she recognized the man’s chiseled form sitting half hidden in her dad’s recliner. “Brody! You scared me to death. I didn’t know you were here.”
“I didn’t know I was so scary just sitting in the recliner.”
He sat calm and self-possessed as he took a drink from one of her mom’s flowery brown-and-yellow glasses. Ice cubes tinkled as he drank long. The strong column of his throat worked as he swallowed and set the glass aside. All he had to do was smile, and her pulse was still racing. She couldn’t slow it down. How crazy was that? As if her heart rate was ever going to be normal around him!
But she could try to seem normal. She spotted a bag of frozen green peas draped over his propped-up ankle. “How’s your ankle feeling?”
“It’s protesting, but I’m tough.”
“And the bag of green peas is, what, a fashion statement?”
He shrugged one wide shoulder but he looked away and not directly at her. “I didn’t want to snoop in the drawers looking for a zipper-seal plastic bag, so I borrowed this from the freezer. What are you up to?”
“No good, as usual.”
“Is that right? A nice girl like you?”
“Yep. I’m planning a night of wild partying and reckless wrongdoing. Are you interested?”
She had to be kidding, Brody figured. With the way she knelt in front of the entertainment cabinet and studied the very wholesome movies there. “Sure. Count me in. I’m a wild kind of guy.”
“Even with that ankle slowing you down, huh?” Michelle leaned forward to study the titles, golden hair tumbling forward, shiny and beautiful. After some debate, she selected a movie. “How do you feel about pizza?”
“I’ve been known to eat a slice or two. Or three. Or twelve.”
“Pepperoni?”
“What other kind is there?”
“Ah, a man after my own heart.” Michelle felt her face flame. Could she have said anything more embarrassing? She tried hard to act casual. “How about sausage?”
“Onions, green peppers, you name it. I’ll be glad to eat it and give thanks.”
“Good. I understand if you’re not interested, but if you’re a courageous man who isn’t afraid of danger and intrigue, then you can join me and my sisters for our weekly gathering. Dinner and, since it’s my turn to pick the board game, a rousting round of Scrabble.”
Brody’s ankle slipped off the pillow and he sat up with a bang. The bag of peas dropped to the floor. “I’m a Scrabble buff.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No.” Who would have guessed this? He forgot about his sore ankle, the revolver tucked in the back of his Levis and that Michelle was in possession of counterfeit cash he was here to investigate. Excitement seized hold of him. “I’ve played since I was a kid. My brother and I, we were just a year apart—”
He stopped as a dull ache tore through him. How could he have forgotten? How could he be getting carried away like this? He hadn’t thought of Brian in years, and on purpose. He’d been killed in the car accident that had taken their parents.
It was easier to focus on the mission, and keep the pain in his heart locked behind closed steel
doors. He took a steadying breath and rescued the sack of vegetables from the carpet.
Think about the mission. Remember where you are and what you are doing. He studied the bag of peas in his hands, still cold. I need to get close to Michelle because she could be a criminal. Got that? This was his opportunity and he intended to make the best of it.
“I got a knack for Scrabble, and I’ve played all my life. A buddy of mine—” really his partner “—and I play a couple times a week when we can. I’ve gotten pretty good over the years. It’s only fair to warn you. I’m a dangerous man.”
“Oh, like I’m scared.” She turned a pretty shade of pink as she straightened, a movie case in hand. “I hope with that huge ego of yours that you’ll survive losing to me.”
“I won’t lose.”
“Okay, believe what you want. Cling to desperate hope if it makes you feel better.” Michelle tried to pretend like she wasn’t totally losing it around him, even though her hands were shaking as she set the movies on the top of the big screen TV her dad had bought to watch football.
She could see Brody perfectly. “Do you mind if I turn this on?”
“Go ahead.” He stepped closer and watched her.
She could see him out of the corner of her eye, the way he stood as immovable and as impressive as a marbled statue. A wing of dark hair tumbled rebelliously over his forehead, making him look like a dangerous man gone good—barely.
Was he something or what? He made the room feel different, and she felt as skittish as her father’s favorite mare during a thunderstorm. Brody’s just a guy like any guy, she argued as she searched for the DVD remote.
Wrong. Brody was different from any man she’d ever met. He was the ideal dream of a man she saw when she closed her eyes in prayer asking for the perfect man to love for the rest of her life. Her palms were damp and she felt tingly in the middle of her spine. Looking at him made her hear Pachebel’s Canon in D and envision the bouquet of roses and lilies she intended to carry the day she walked down the aisle. What good was that?
He was going to leave tomorrow on his sleek, expensive motorcycle and speed right out of her life forever.
There was the remote! She unburied it from beneath the TV schedule and clicked on the player.
“Your family has a few pictures on the wall.”
“A few?” Michelle knelt in front of the entertainment center and inserted the disc. “More like thousands.”
“There aren’t that many.”
“Okay, hundreds.”
“You were pretty cute in that one without your front top teeth. And pigtails.”
“Great. Thanks for mentioning that.”
Brody still couldn’t believe it. He’d seen the counterfeit bill with his own eyes, and it was hard to believe Michelle would be involved in something like that. It wasn’t just because she was beautiful, it was something more. Something deeper.
He was wrong to want her to be innocent when he needed to keep his cool. Stay objective. Stick to his mission objectives. It was his duty to find evidence if she was involved and send her to prison.
He watched Michelle hit the play button, and in a few seconds the big black FBI warning flashed on the TV screen, and he took a step back.
Maybe beneath that girl-next-door freshness lurked the mind of a conscienceless criminal. It was his job to find out.
Then she straightened, and her big innocent eyes focused right on him.
“I’m sorry. I grabbed a romantic comedy out of habit. Kendra has been wanting to see this one again—like for the tenth time.” She waved a DVD box with the picture of a smiling couple in the air. “I could check the dish listing and see if there’s something more macho on. Like action adventure. But one without any blood and gore and violence. Ooh, and anything embarrassing. I guess they don’t usually make those PG.”
“Not usually.”
She blushed, as if the prospect of the stage intimacy on screen embarrassed her beyond all belief. He turned away while she put the movie on Pause and switched the screen over to the local station. A friendly news anchor was announcing the future on wheat and soybeans.
The phone rang, and Michelle reached for the handset she’d left on the coffee table. “Hello?”
She cradled the receiver against her left ear, and she cocked one foot, listening with care. There was elegance to her and an understated class. There was no mistaking her wholesome beauty.
Everything within him beat with longing. When she breathed, he breathed. When her smile faded, so did his. She folded a golden lock of hair behind her ear. The glint of sunlight on the curve of her hoop earring was nothing compared to her beauty. He shouldn’t be noticing her beauty.
Sadness touched her porcelain-fine features. Whom was she talking to? She was so expressive, how could she be hiding a life of crime?
“I understand, Kendra. Don’t worry. I’m fine. Call me when everything’s okay, will ya?” Michelle’s chin dipped as she ended the call. She looked vulnerable, while trying not to show it. And failing.
His conscience was bothering him, and why was that? He’d never had this problem before. He’d done nothing wrong. He was doing his job. He didn’t need to feel bad about suspecting a nice, sweet girl, who looked about as guilty as Marcia Brady.
“That was Kendra, my other sister.” Michelle’s smile was bright, but her eyes remained shadowed. Sad. And so was the false note in her voice. “She’s bailing, too. One of her prized mares is having a hard time foaling, and Kendra has to stay. I’m praying mother and baby will be fine.”
“What about the other sister?” He gestured to the framed group picture on top of the end table between the recliner and one of the couches. A family picture from last Christmas, he figured, since all five sisters were crowded together in front of a decorated tree. “She’s not coming, either?”
“That’s Kristin, and she’s moved out of state. The only one of us with any sense.” Her attempt at a joke failed, but at least it gave her time while she crossed the room and pulled the movie disc from the player.
As she placed it into its case, Michelle prayed for her sisters tonight, for her niece who was ill and her sister who was flying in turbulent weather and for Kendra’s beloved mare.
All things change, she told herself, and so would this loneliness, too. One day there would be a husband of her own and a busy life to manage.
“You said that your sister’s the only smart one,” Brody asked. “Do you think that she was smart to leave? You don’t like living here?”
“I thought about moving to L.A. or New York City, but after living here watching the grass grow all my life, I thought those cities might be a little dull for me.”
“I’ve lived in those cities. They have their pluses and their minuses. But here—” He gestured to the wide picture window that offered a stunning view of the rugged Rockies with their jagged lavender peaks stabbing into the harsh gray of threatening clouds. “It’s a piece of paradise.”
Yes. In that moment, it felt as if her heart opened up. As if the secret wishes within her shimmered like stardust begging to be revealed.
How did she tell Brody? How would a man like him understand? He boldly followed his whims. Whenever he wanted to travel, he hopped on his powerful bike. He was a man of the world.
Sure, he hadn’t said a single thing about it, but it showed. She could see he was a rugged loner. If he knew the truth about her, he’d probably just laugh at her. Like everyone else would. He might look out of her living room window and see heaven, but he wouldn’t understand.
She had dreams. She had passions. She had goals she wanted to reach. And they mattered to her. She doubted a world-wise man would understand.
She stalked out of the room and away from Brody, leaving both her sadness and her dreams behind.
Chapter Six
Did he stay in the living room? No. He had to follow her into the kitchen when she wanted to be alone. His gait might be uneven due to his injured ankle as he padded ov
er the carpeting and onto the linoleum, but there was no mistaking the confidence of his step and his sheer masculine power.
Why was it that when she wanted a handsome, intriguing dream of a man in her kitchen, there wasn’t one to be found anywhere.
But the one time she didn’t want one in her kitchen, there he was, stalking toward her like a predatory lion while she was wrestling with the stubborn wrapping on the pizza.
“Need some help?” His deep baritone rumbled over her.
She wouldn’t look up. He was not her dream. He was just some guy. That’s what she was going to tell herself over and over until she believed it. “I’m doing just fine, thank you very much.”
“You don’t look fine to me.”
“That’s because I’m hungry.”
He splayed his wide, sun-bronzed hands on the breakfast bar, leaning closer.
Her awareness of him doubled. It was as if there were no barriers, not even flesh and bone, and her heart was out in the open and vulnerable.
Why did he make her feel this way?
“I know you don’t need my help, but I’d like to lend a hand just the same,” he offered.
The way Brody was leaning against the counter seemed to shrink the entire room. Make her senses zero in on only him.
A new emotion she’d never felt before sparked to life in her chest. Something painful and powerful and life changing. Just like that, she could feel places in her heart she’d never known. Vulnerable and still bearing the scars from her last relationship.
Please, Father, she prayed as she yanked open the drawer in search of the scissors. Help me to be wiser. Help me not to confuse friendliness with affection.
She wanted a great man to marry. She didn’t want to make the same mistake she’d made with Rick. That in the wanting, she got carried away with the dreaming of what could be and didn’t see the signs in front of her. The small clues that should have warned her Rick had his own motives.
