"She wasn't yet two. I think maybe around twenty months."
A pain shot through Ruth’s heart as if it had been pierced. Annie had already turned two when she was taken. But the scar, and the face on the computerized photo... Annie had to be Beth. But how could she be if Matt adopted her before she was two?
…Black-market adoption... bogus birth certificate...
Bill's words. He'd said the date on the fake birth certificate would be different.
Before she could ask if Annie had been large for her age, Edith said, "I have the photo Mr. Kincaid sent me of Annie’s second birthday. I was visiting my mother at the time. I'll get it." She wiped her hands on her apron and left the room, and a couple of minutes later, returned with a framed photo, which she offered to Ruth. "Annie wasn't very happy about celebrating."
Ruth took the photo from Edith, prepared to look at a picture of Beth as a toddler, one photograph that would settle things once and for all. But what she saw was a red-faced, squinty-eyed child with chocolate icing smeared across her face, screaming at the top of her lungs. There was no way of knowing if it was Beth.
"Turn it over," Edith said. "Mr. Kincaid wrote something on back."
Ruth flipped the photo and read the words scrawled across the cardboard backing: This is our sweet little Annie on her 2nd birthday. Typical woman, thinks she's already over the hill. She's got a hell of a pair of lungs though...
Edith snickered. "Doesn't that sound like Mr. Kincaid?"
"Doesn't what sound like me?" Matt strolled into the room, a small cowboy shirt in one hand, a stuffed pig wearing cowboy boots and chaps in the other.
Edith replied, "What you wrote about Annie."
Matt tucked the stuffed pig under his arm and took the photo from Ruth. "Annie-Big-Mouth," he said, with affection. The memory of that day filled him with warmth. And misgiving. Warmth, because after that he was able to hold Annie without her crying, and misgiving, because for the first time since the hasty adoption, he'd realized his pride and stubbornness might ultimately cause him to lose her, a weight he'd continue to bear until Annie was eighteen.
He glanced at Ruth and saw her staring at him, intently. Forcing a smile, he said, "Annie was screaming her head off because she couldn't shove her hand into the cake until after I took the picture. Obviously she won the battle." He set the photo down. "And speaking of Annie-Big-Mouth—" he held up the pig "—were you being creative, or was Annie being a pain in the butt?"
Ruth shrugged. "Annie wouldn't pick up her things," she clipped.
Matt tossed the pig and shirt aside and pulled out a chair. "Want to tell me about it?" He flipped the chair around and straddled it, then folded his arms across its back and waited for Ruth's response. When she said nothing, he added, "Obviously she was a pain in the butt, so maybe we can find some humor in what happened."
"Fine then," Ruth said. "Annie dumped her clothes all over the floor after I straightened her dresser, so I threw them out the window, and when she started throwing toys all over the room, I tossed them into the toy box, dragged it outside, and dumped it in the back of your pickup." She held his gaze, daring him to challenge her. Which he wouldn't. Her actions with Annie were about as innovative as he could imagine. He'd never have thought to do that himself.
He studied Ruth at length, trying to figure out what it was about her he found so captivating now, and why he had initially thought her so plain. Something to do with the eyes, sparkling brown eyes that held a myriad of ambiguous emotions. Impulsively, he reached across the table and squeezed her hand, and said, "Sorry Annie gave you a bad time," he said, flatly.
Ruth tugged her hand free. "We got through it," she said. Then she compressed her mouth in a harsh line and folded her arms across her chest.
He eyed the pearl snaps on the pockets of her western-cut shirt, rising and falling above her folded arms with each rapid breath. She wasn't stacked like Jody, yet, her trim figure made Jody's buxom one seem less desirable by comparison.
"Is there something wrong?" Ruth clipped.
Matt looked up. Aware that he'd been staring, he said, "I was just thinking the shirt makes you look less like a city girl and more like you belong on the Kincaid."
Ruth looked at him, uncertain, and said, "Then you have no problem with the way I handled Annie?"
"I think it was ingenious," Matt said. "I also think you also made progress with her, although it might take a few days for it to show."
Ruth unfolded her arms and looked toward the hallway. "Maybe I should help her bring in the rest of her things. There was quite a pile."
"Not anymore," Matt said. "The shirt and Miss Piggy were all that was left when I followed Annie into the house. Her arms were crammed with stuff. I think the little scrapper's met her match." He winked. "Congratulations, nanny girl. You done well."
Ruth's face took on the flush he'd come to know each time he complimented her, and she rewarded him with a smile that brought the two little dimples out of hiding. It was one of those rare occasions when her smile reached her eyes. And for the moment, he forgot how clever she'd been with Annie, and how subdued Annie had been toting in her toys and clothes, and how enticing the pearl snaps had seemed. All he was aware of was Ruth’s beautiful brown eyes...
Matt shifted his gaze when he saw movement and found Annie staring at them from the hallway. He shoved his chair back for her to climb onto his lap, but she walked over to Ruth instead, and said, matter-of-factly, "I can read."
At first Ruth didn't reply, and Matt hoped it wasn't because she was still mad at Annie. That would undo everything Ruth had accomplished. But then, Ruth blinked several times, and said, "Really? Who taught you?"
"Daddy. Would you like me to read to you?"
Ruth smiled. "I'd like that very much."
Annie scampered off, and a few moments later, returned with The Cat in the Hat. She handed the book to Ruth and leaned heavily against her. But before Annie started to read, Ruth hefted Annie onto her lap.
Annie settled against Ruth, placed her small hands over Ruth’s bigger ones as Ruth held the book, and began to read, slowly and deliberately, "The... sun... did... not... shine... it... was... too... wet... to... play... so... we... sat... in... the... house... all... that... cold... cold... wet... day..."
Matt watched with amusement and pride as Annie read, eyes narrowed in concentration, her small mouth enunciating each word. But when he looked at Ruth and saw her wistful face—eyes shimmering like ice in the sun, dark lashes spiked with tears—the elusive thing that had closed around his heart squeezed tighter. And he sensed that the course of his life had just been subtly, but irrevocably, altered.
***
From her perch on the fence, Ruth watched Annie twirl a lasso in a wide circle and launch it toward a fence post. The circle collapsed, missing its target. Annie collected the rope and returned to her position by the fence.
"You need to loosen up, baby," Matt said. "We’ll try it together." Matt stepped behind Annie, and with his arms curved around her, arranged her fingers around the rope. Then he jiggled her elbow, and said, "Don’t tense up, keep your arm loose. And this time let your arm follow through." He twirled his hand along with hers and together they sent the rope flying through the air, looping it squarely over a fence post. "Good," Matt said. "Now try it again by yourself." He retrieved the rope and handed it to Annie, then leaned against the fence, next to where Ruth sat on the top board, watching.
Chewing on her bottom lip, brows drawn in concentration, Annie twirled the rope in a wide arc and sent it flying. It missed the target and flopped to the ground. Matt called to her, "That’s better, but you’re still tensing up before the throw." He collected the rope. "Here, let me show you, and this time watch my wrist and elbow." Effortlessly, he twirled the lasso and looped it around the fence post. He winked at Annie. "If that post was a young bull he’d be down and squalling his head off. Keep practicing and you'll get it. With roping, it takes lots of practice."
Matt
started to walk away, but Annie rushed after him and caught him by the arm and said, "Don’t go yet, Daddy. Show me how to do it again."
"You’re doing fine, honey," Matt replied. "You just need practice. Besides, Uncle Bret’s flying in from Salem this afternoon and I have to let Edith know."
"What about Ruth? Aren’t you gonna teach her?" Annie smiled at Ruth, and Ruth smiled back. During the past week she and Annie had come to an unspoken agreement. She wouldn’t tread on Annie’s Daddy’s territory and everything would be fine.
Matt looked at Ruth and his mouth curved slightly.
Ruth jumped down from her perch on the fence. "No thanks," she said. "Riding a horse is one thing. Roping is another." She definitely did not want to deal with the proximity involved in Matt giving her roping lessons.
Matt collected the rope, and while wrapping it into a coil, started walking toward her. "Annie’s right," he said, closing the gap between them. "Who knows when you might be out on the range and have to rope a critter of some kind?"
"Yes... well... I don't plan to be out on the range, and I’d rather not—"
"Just remember what I told Annie," Matt said, ignoring her appeal. "It’s all in the wrist." Before she could protest further, Matt was around behind her, his chest against her back, his arms encircling her. "Raise your hands," he said, over the top of her head. Ruth could barely compute what he was telling her, his nearness so unsettling. "Your hands, honey. You can’t throw a rope by remote control."
Ruth raised her hands and Matt placed the coil in her right hand and tucked the tail of the rope in her left. To her shock, he bent down, and with his lips brushing against her ear, he said in the deepest whisper she'd ever heard, "Just relax and we’ll throw it together a few times." His large hand encircling hers, he started twirling the rope with her. It wasn’t until the loop swung free and landed over the fence post that she realized his other hand was around her ribcage. "Good throw," he said, his lips a breath away from her cheek. "Now, we’ll try it again."
Ruth didn’t respond. All she was aware of was the feel of Matt's palm on her ribs and his chest against her back, and the tingle of his breath wafting over her temple. What finally snapped her out of her daze was Annie’s giggles.
"Daddy, you should see Ruth’s face. It’s as red as a baboon’s butt."
Matt slackened his hold, and Ruth snatched the chance to duck out of the circle of his arms. But when she started to walk away, his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. She turned and waited for him to speak. He winked at her, and said, "Annie’s right. You’ve got some color to your cheeks Ruthie girl. It suits you."
Ruth pulled her hand from his grip and glared at him. Her cheeks prickled with heat as she said, "I can’t imagine you'd teach men to rope like you did me."
"Yeah, well, maybe not," Matt said, "but it’s not as much fun either." As she walked away, he called after her, "Be down for dinner a few minutes early so you can meet my brother, Bret."
Ruth waved him off and headed for the house, disturbed by the flood feelings rushing through her. It was as if his nearness heightened her senses, his touch awakening every nerve beneath the surface of her skin, his breath filling her nostrils with his musky male essence, his voice resonating through every filament in her body, until she felt as if he were her twin soul...
Her twin soul from hell, she reminded herself. The Devil disguised himself in many ways, she'd learned back in Sunday school. He'd tempt, and tease, and toy with you and bring you to his will. How easily the Devil could manipulate her. Here was a man who might have kidnapped her daughter, and every time he was near, she lost all sense of reality. And the reality was, she had a mission to complete, and she would not be led astray by Matt Kincaid again.
Shortly before dinner, she toyed with the idea of begging off. The roping incident was still fresh in her mind, her strong reaction to Matt too unsettling. But, deciding he'd come looking for her if she didn't show up, she grudgingly went to join him and his brother in the living room. As Matt made introductions, his brother eyed Ruth at length, and said, "Have we met? You look familiar. I'm thinking maybe our paths crossed at some time."
Ruth looked at Bret Kincaid with apprehension. Would he be the chink in her armor, the one who would expose her? Yet, she was certain she’d never met the man before. "I have one of those generic faces," she said. "I’m told often that I look like someone’s aunt or sister."
Edith called them to dinner then, and Ruth was thankful for the commotion the men brought to the table, if only to keep Matt’s brother occupied. And when a pork roast with all the trimmings was set down, Bret Kincaid began eating with enthusiasm, and it appeared the incident was forgotten. But later, when she was about to leave the dining room, he looked steadily at her again, and said, "I'm sure I've seen you somewhere. I'm good with faces, and yours is very familiar. If we’ve met, it'll eventually come to me."
Ruth knew, with certainty, that she had never met Bret Kincaid. Although he didn’t have Matt’s tall frame and rugged good looks, he too was a markedly handsome man with a face no woman was apt to forget.
She laughed lightly. "Maybe we met in passing. I’d better check on Annie." Turning abruptly, she walked off, anxious to be away from the man's close perusal.
The thought that he could have seen her on television or in the newspaper at the time of the abduction, and would eventually put things together, troubled her greatly.
Had she come this far, only to find herself facing the full force of the Kincaid family?
JUSTIFIED DECEPTION to be continued…
BOOKS BY PATRICIA WATTERS
DANCING MOON RANCH SERIES
BOOK 1: RIGHTEOUS LIES
Grace Templeton thought the child she'd been carrying for seven months was the child of her dead husband, and Jack Hansen thought the sperm he'd donated had gone to the wife of his sterile twin... Until they learn that two vials of sperm at the fertility clinic were accidentally switched. The shock sends Grace into early labor, and the only place she can have complete bed rest is at the Dancing Moon Ranch owned by Jack and his twin, Sam. But soon, Grace finds herself falling in love with a hard-edged cowboy who appears to want to control every aspect of her life, now that she's carrying his son. But Jack has his reasons. He also has no intention of marrying, and Grace is determined to learn why.
BOOK 2: PANDORA'S BOX
Justine Page used her beauty and her body to make her way up the corporate ladder. But when a relationship with a CEO goes sour, and she finds herself without a job or a place to live, she goes to the Dancing Moon Ranch to stay with her sister and reassess her life. Brad Meecham, a war correspondent with post-traumatic stress, who has taken a cabin at the ranch to try and deal with mind demons, is intrigued by Justine, who's determined to put her checkered past behind. About the time he thinks they could make a life together, a daughter Brad never knew existed is delivered to him when her mother dies. Suddenly, he finds himself with a child who wants nothing to do with anyone but Justine, and he knows without question that a woman who slept her way to the top will never be a candidate for step-mother. But then, Brad fails to factor in the power of love to bring together a flawed woman and a troubled child, and his need to have them both in his life.
BOOK 3: FALSE PRETENSES
Jayne Hamilton has a dark secret she's carefully guarded and which she hopes will stay hidden until she lands the job at Dancing Moon Ranch. But as Sam Hansen interviews her, he’s uneasy. Things don't add up. Still, he hires her without running a background check because his mother wants to retire from the guest ranch end of the operation, and neither Sam nor his twin, Jack, want to take over that job. A guest ranch manager would free them of that burden. But soon, Sam finds himself blindly attracted to Jayne, even though he knows she's hiding something... something that has to do with a child. But Sam also senses that there's much more.
BOOK 4: UNCERTAIN LOYALTIES
All her life Sophie Meecham was told that modesty was a virtue and sex before ma
rriage was wrong, so when she learns that her step-mother slept her way up the corporate ladder before marrying her father, Sophie’s so angry and disillusioned she shows up unexpectedly at the Dancing Moon Ranch to vent to her lifelong friend, Rick Hansen. Rick too is disillusioned. Sophie’s changed from the woman he’d grown to love over the years, and even envisioned marrying. In fact, she's so mad, she rebels against everything that’s been instilled in her, even tries to have sex with Rick. But he wants no part of it. Although he doesn’t want the woman Sophie is now, he doesn’t want any other man to have her either. But soon after, a life-altering incident has Sophie looking at Rick, her buddy, in a whole new light. It's also clear, the man she’s falling in love with has fallen out of love with her, and it will be an uphill battle to prove to Rick she's still the woman he'd always thought her to be.
BOOK 5: BECOMING JESSE'S FATHER
When Adam Hansen discovers his ex-fiancée, along with a son he never knew he had, hiding in an isolated cabin on his ranch, in the middle of winter, and learns she's being hunted down by her former husband, an ex-green beret, Adam vows to protect them, even though he has no intention of getting involved with Emily again. He's also trying to gain the love and trust of a three-year-old boy who fears and mistrusts men. But while he's safeguarding Emily and Jesse, Adam learns that Emily’s wanted in a non-custodial kidnapping to protect Jesse from a dangerous step-father, who's also Jesse's legal father, since Emily gave birth to Jesse while married to him. Still, Adam intends to protect them at all cost, even if it means going against his family, and the law, and taking Emily and Jesse into the mountains and beyond, if that's the only way to keep them safe.
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