by Jill Shalvis
Her system.
Good Lord. No wonder her boss had wanted to keep her system a secret a while longer. Not only could her system be used to predict—and potentially to cause—earthquakes, it could uncover pockets of valuable ore. Haley shuddered as she began to realize the implications. No wonder someone was willing to kill for the system. It would be worth untold millions. And she was the only one who could make it work.
* * *
She had turned her pager back on immediately after reading the newspaper report, so Haley wasn't surprised when it went off the next morning. It was from her flat in South America, presumably from Alda.
"Wherever you are, you must get back here. Things have changed. Come to the park where we used to lunch. Noon, one week. Be there, Haley. It's life or death."
* * *
Chapter 6
« ^ »
That night, Haley stood in the center of the kitchen, despairing of ever managing to pull together something edible. Then her white knight entered in the form of Nellie, toting a large, foil-lined bag that smelled heavenly.
"It's fried chicken," she said, smiling apologetically. "I hope you didn't already start something, because I couldn't resist."
"Are you kidding? I could kiss you," Haley told her, meaning every word. "I had no idea what I was going to make."
"You would have come up with something," Nellie said confidently. "That lasagna last night was terrific."
Even Haley had to agree, it had been pretty terrific. And surprisingly easy. Noodles, cheese, sauce. Noodles, cheese, sauce. Formulas again. Good thing she was so good at that. She reached for the bag of chicken. "Your neighbor called. He said it's beef time again. He wanted your order."
"Great I'll call him later. Anything special you want me to buy?"
"Wait a minute." Haley stopped in the act of opening the foil. "You run a ranch with cows on it—and you buy your beef?"
"That's right." Nellie grabbed a wing and sniffed appreciatively, sighing a little. She bit into the chicken without getting a plate, moaning with obvious pleasure, and then quickly took another bite. "We buy our pork and chicken, too." She picked up a drumstick with her other hand and laughed. "See?"
"But you have both right here on the ranch," Haley said, watching Nellie stuff her face indelicately. "I've seen them."
Nellie finished off the wing and laughed again, holding her belly with one hand, the drumstick with the other. "You're catching on to the Reeves way."
"I don't get it."
"The ranch makes money only on the horses. Cam's rule."
Strangely touched, Haley sat down and looked at Nellie. "Let me get this straight. You have all these animals, but you don't use them for meat?"
"Cam won't let us kill anything. We bought the pigs and chickens … oh, at least two years ago now, and he named every one of them. Jason told him that was his first mistake, but Cam held firm."
Haley didn't want to think about why that brought a smile to her face and made her feel … mushy.
"The piglets we get each year think Cam's their daddy. Before we sell them, they follow him around the pen faithfully. You should see it."
Haley tried to picture that; the big, tall, rangy Cam, leading the baby pigs around like a mama duck. Sadness speared her when she realized she'd probably never see that. She'd be gone in a few days. She had to make a move, had to face this thing. She'd go first to the USGS, then to South America, hopefully with an escort, and hopefully as a witness, not as a suspect. But it had to be done.
Alda had to be stopped.
Nellie stuffed her mouth again. "The foals eat right from his hand." She grabbed a biscuit, split it open and slathered butter all over it.
"Would you sit?" Haley demanded, with a small laugh, forcing the ache away. "And use a plate—you're making crumbs everywhere."
Nellie did, then smiled apologetically. "I'm starved."
"What's new?" Haley smiled, too. What they said about expectant mothers seemed to be true; Nellie positively glowed. "You're feeling as good as you look?"
"Yep." She proudly patted the baby. "Doctor says everyone's doing great. Even poor Jas, who turns green whenever the doctor discusses childbirth." She took a sip from her water and gave a huge sigh, absently rubbing her tummy in a gesture Haley thought sweetly maternal. She wondered if all pregnant women did that—held their babies before they were even born. She tried to picture her own mother pregnant, caressing Haley in her swollen stomach, and couldn't.
"Have you seen the guys?" Nellie asked. "Let's call them in before I eat all the food by myself."
"Zach's studying. Jason's chopping wood and—"
"Oh, God— Chopping wood?" Nellie groaned, then stood awkwardly. "We've got to stop him. He'll cut something off, for sure."
"He'll … what?"
Nellie's smile was fond and full of such love that Haley felt an unexpected pang of envy. "He's a wonderful man. They all are. Beautiful inside and out. But my Jas, he's not too careful. He tends to break things. Like his own bones."
"Oh, no." Haley stood. She remembered that first night when Cam and Nellie had told her about Jason falling off the roof, how she hadn't wanted to believe it could be true.
"What did you say Cam's doing?" Nellie asked. "Maybe I can get him to take over and save us all a trip to the hospital."
"Oh, he's working real hard," Haley said, tongue firmly in cheek. "You should see him." She tossed her head toward the window where Cam could be seen in the yard, lying still in a hammock that swung gently between two large pines. Beneath the hat that covered his face, his sun-streaked hair lifted in the breeze. His hands lay lightly clasped, low on his belly. Even now, Haley could remember exactly how flat that beautiful stomach was beneath his shirt, how strong and long his legs were, and it had her jerking away from the window.
"Poor baby," Nellie said, looking at Cam. "He's exhausted. Must have worked all night. But mm-hmm, he does look fine, doesn't he?"
She'd choke before admitting it. "I don't know what you mean," Haley said primly, fussing with the chicken.
Which only made Nellie grin. "Sure you do, honey. You're a woman, aren't you?" Her smile faded some as Haley sniffed indifferently. "You don't like him much, do you?"
Haley shrugged. How, oh how, had she gotten herself into this conversation? She felt like she was in high school, only she'd never been in a regular school, with regular friends who would have teased her about the male species. She was in foreign territory without a map and she felt at a total loss.
Nellie was still looking at her, worried. "Has he … done something to offend you?"
"No, nothing like that," Haley said quickly. She looked at Cam again, sleeping so peacefully in the sun, like he didn't have a care in the world. Something inside her ached. "He wouldn't."
Nellie's gaze followed Haley's. "No, you're right, he wouldn't. At least, not on purpose. Cam's the nicest, most gentle, caring man I know," she said faithfully. "And the most easygoing, laid-back—" She broke off at the look on Haley's face. "That's it, isn't it? He's out there sleeping the day away and it bothers you."
She hated to admit it was true. "It just seems so … leisurely," Haley finished lamely. "I'm sorry. I have no right to say something like that." She sank back into a chair. "Can we just forget it? And go rescue Jason, maybe?"
Nellie looked at her, her disappointment obvious. "Yes, of course." She started to move away, then hesitated. "You know, Haley, I've seen you work. I know how seriously you take things, how hard you try, and how much effort you put into each thing you do. You're a planner, I'd guess." She smiled. "It's wonderful, really. Those are traits I wish I had more of, believe me. But those are also some pretty tough standards to judge others by."
"I'm not—"
"Aren't you?" Nellie sat and took her hand. "Please, please, don't take this wrong, Haley. It's easy to underestimate that clever mind of Cam's. I know. I did it, too, at first. It's so easy to be dazzled by the looks, the voice, the overall outer package.
But you'll just have to trust me on this—it'd be a shame if you made that same mistake. You really can't judge a book by its cover."
"I know that. But Cam's not exactly a book."
"No, he's not," Nellie said quietly. "But if you're thinking he's slow and lazy, you couldn't be further from the truth."
"I wasn't thinking slow," Haley told her, remembering exactly how quick he could be. "Lazy? Maybe." She thought of the lemonade he'd called out to her for, an hour ago, when he'd seen her through the window. He'd given her that indolent smile of this and looked at her with eyes that would have melted the Arctic. The crazy thing was, she'd actually done this bidding and brought him the drink. "And definitely spoiled," she added.
At Nellie's stricken look, Haley relented. "I'm kidding, Nellie."
"He's not spoiled."
"I know. I know he's had it rough. He told me about his wife."
"He— He told you?" Nellie sputtered. "He never talks about Lorraine. Certainly you can't believe he's lazy now—not if you know how hard he worked."
Haley didn't know what she believed, except that maybe it was better not to have loved at all than to have loved and been destroyed, like he had. "I guess I don't understand how he can be happy here, doing so little, after the busy life-style he had."
But couldn't she? Wasn't that exactly what she was doing?
Nellie looked sad, but for whom, Haley couldn't tell.
"Things aren't always as they appear, Haley. And I'm not minding my own business very well," she said. "Jas would tell me to shut my trap." She took a big bite from a chicken leg.
Jason appeared in the doorway, shirtless, damp with sweat from chopping wood, and looking every bit as good as a cover model showing off his stuff. He waved his slingless arm, looking proud of himself.
"Check it out, baby," he told Nellie, flexing his muscles. "Everything works just fine. Healed and ready to go." He gave her the once-over with his eyes and both women laughed.
"It's only a matter of time, cowboy," Nellie told him. "You'll trip over your feet, break something and be out of commission again." She ran her gaze up and down his body from beneath coyly lowered lashes. "Speaking of that … maybe we ought to make the most of the time we've got."
Jason grinned broadly and wrapped his long arms around her, steering her toward the door. "I do like the way you think, Nel. I like the way you think very much."
"Oh, man," Zach complained as he passed them and came into the kitchen. "They're at it again."
Haley laughed. "Yes, they are." She'd gotten past the embarrassment days ago, and now knew that what Nellie and Jason shared was very special and unbelievably good.
And honest.
She'd never had anything like that. Her gaze fell to the window again, and to Cam, still asleep. A yearning, surprisingly strong, swept through her.
"Look at that," Zach said, shaking this head in disgust as he caught sight of his brother. "Sleeping the day away again."
"He worked all night," Haley said quickly, coming to Cam's defense without thinking. "He's exhausted."
Zach flashed her that Reeves grin, mixed with startled wonder. "I know that, Haley."
"You— Oh." Embarrassed and flustered by Zach's curious gaze, she looked away. "I just thought… Actually, I don't know what I thought."
"You were defending him to me." Zach laughed. "Oh, man. You've got it bad. Don't worry. I'm told we're pretty irresistible, but it'll pass soon enough."
Haley managed to roll her eyes and laugh it off, but his comment stuck long after he'd filled a plate and left. Did she have it bad? She sure didn't want to. She thought of little else as she prepared a plateful of chicken and struck out for the yard, some half-baked idea in her head that she could take out these feelings on the person who'd caused them—Cameron Reeves.
Dusk settled quickly in the mountains. Locked into that short, glorious period between day and night, long shadows fell over the grass as she walked. She wouldn't mind the dark, which would hit at any moment. She'd discovered she liked the nights here, once she'd gotten past the fear of what she couldn't see. Colorado nights were like none other on earth. The smooth black sky flowed with stars so bright and clear they looked like scattered diamonds on black velvet.
But she wasn't outside now to enjoy the sights.
Miffed at herself, and thoroughly prepared to share it, she stopped before the hammock and cleared her throat. Cam didn't budge. None too gently, she set the plate on his stomach, watching with amusement as he started, then lifted the hat from this far-too-alert eyes.
"You weren't sleeping," she accused.
"Nope. Just thinking." He picked up the plate and smiled as he carefully sat up. "Thanks. I'm starving."
"Really," she said dryly. When wasn't he? The man ate constantly, as did his brothers. She could only imagine their food bill.
"You served me." He grinned. "I think you're falling for me."
"Don't bet on it." She watched this teeth sink into the chicken, trying to remember when she last ate. His cheek muscles bunched as he chewed, and he sighed in pleasure, going for more. Her mouth watered hungrily and she suddenly wished she'd brought two plates.
He must have read her mind, because he scooted over. "Come on, share mine."
She eyed the narrow hammock. "I couldn't."
"Sure, you can. You just open your mouth and chew."
"No," she said, rolling her eyes. "I mean, I couldn't. I couldn't possibly fit in there with you."
Almost before she'd finished the sentence, he'd lifted the plate in one hand and scooped his other around her waist, heaving her up and in with him. For one horrifying second, the cotton hammock shifted wildly from side to side and Haley thought they were going down. She screeched and clutched at Cam, who just laughed.
"Have more faith, darlin'. I'm a hungry man. Do you think I'd dump my plate?" He lifted a piece of wonderful-smelling chicken to her mouth. "Eat," he commanded.
She shook her head, and she was so close to him that even that small movement had her hair flying in his face. They were touching everywhere; shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, thigh to thigh. It seemed incredibly intimate—certainly more than she'd bargained for when she'd brought him the plate of food.
And since when, she thought helplessly, had she been so constantly aware of another body like she was his? She saw everything: the way his shirtsleeves had been rolled back, revealing strong, tanned forearms, how his soft, faded jeans molded his long legs.
"Eat," he repeated, gently touching the chicken to her lips.
How could she when she could hardly breathe? But somehow, she managed to take a bite. He watched her mouth intently as she chewed and when she swallowed, his lips curved. "You're a sight, Haley Williams."
She felt a pang as she heard the false name on his lips. Another lie for the man who hated them. But it had to be that way. "I'm sure I am. I'm wearing clothes that don't fit me, my hair smells like the lemon I accidentally squirted all over myself while making iced tea, and I've got circles under my eyes." She gave him a look daring him to defy her description.
"You're beautiful."
Her heart somersaulted crazily. "I wasn't fishing for compliments."
"And compassionate. You have a sense of humor, too, though it's got a wicked streak—"
"No. Don't." She struggled to get out.
Without warning, and very quickly for a man who claimed he liked to move slowly, he cupped her head, pulled her toward him and nibbled at her lips. "Mmm, you're wearing that lip gloss. Tastes like strawberries."
She pushed back, bracing against his chest, and tried not to spill the plate. "Don't do that. You said you were walking away from me, remember?"
"Yes, but you came to me. I can't resist that, I'm afraid."
Good Lord, he was something, all rugged man and sweet smile. "You'll make me forget I'm mad at you."
"That was the idea … but okay," he said agreeably, settling back. "Then just eat."
"You keep pushing me to eat
. You sound like a mom." But she took the bite he'd put to her mouth.
"A mom? Not your Mom?"
She stilled, the chicken a solid, unswallowable lump in her throat. His gaze searched her features and something he must have read there made him take pity.
"Take my mom, for instance," he said easily into the awkward silence. "She didn't have to nag us boys to eat. We ate her out of house and home."
"Mine didn't have that problem," Haley said carefully, pushing away the next bite. She'd lost her appetite. "And you're changing the subject. We were discussing my being mad at you."
He crunched into the corn on the cob, licked the butter off his wet lips and smiled innocently. "What does your mother think of your eating habits now?"
Her mother could care less, but because that hurt to admit, she forced a smile. "Wouldn't you rather know why I'm mad at you?"
"Oh, I already know that. I'd rather know why you won't talk about yourself."
"You're impossible." She sat up, determined to wriggle her way out of the hammock, but once again, she'd underestimated him. With one fluid move, he'd gotten rid of the plate and had her stretched out, flat beneath him. They rocked gently from the movement, every inch of her body touching every inch of his. There was something incredibly erotic about the motion.
"So you don't want to talk about yourself." He played with her hair and smiled into her stormy, furious eyes. "We can do something else. Anything. You pick, darlin'."
"I don't think so. You're crowding me, Cameron."
"Ah, we're back to formalities." He cupped her face, wishing those eyes didn't hold so many secrets, wishing she didn't resist him so. He didn't like how pale she seemed, how fragile she felt under him. Or how weary she looked. "Is your stomach better?"
"There's nothing wrong with my stomach."
Every muscle tightened. "I thought you said you weren't a liar."
She pushed at him, stiff with anger, embarrassment, and who knew what else. "Move. Just move."
