The Heiress and the Sheriff

by Stella Bagwell

  “All right, Clint, if you must know, I’ve agreed to settle with Ryan for twenty-five million. The lawyers will be drawing up the papers soon.”

  His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he watched her jam a cigarette between her lips. “Twenty-five million! What happened to fifty-million? That’s what we both agreed on. What the hell has come over you, Sophia?”

  Shrugging, she took a deep drag on the cigarette and blew the smoke straight at him. “I’m almost busted and I don’t like it. Twenty-five million is better than nothing. Besides, you just said you didn’t want to wait any longer.”

  Crossing the space between them, he snatched a handful of her strawberry-blond hair and tugged her face up close to his. “You’d better not be lying to me, Sophia. If you are, I’ll find out. And when I do, I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” she taunted, a smug smile tilting her lips. “You’re not going to do anything to me. I’m your link to the money. And we both know it.”

  His hard blue eyes raked over her face for a few more moments, then he dropped his hold on her hair and stalked to the door. “One of these days you’re going to push me too far, Sophia,” he warned. “Just remember that.”

  Her answering laugh followed him out the door.

  Gabrielle had packed a small carryon bag for the trip to California. She’d boxed up all the clothes Maggie had given her, saying they should be donated to charity. When packing a few essentials, she had come across the Bible Wyatt had found in her car. It seemed to be the only link to her past. The Bible looked old. But not so ancient that the pages were tattered and yellowed. Gabrielle really couldn’t be certain about the book’s age. The fire that had turned her rental car into a pile of crisp aluminum had scorched the edges of the pages and parts of the leather covering. There was no way of telling what condition the book had been in before the flames had threatened to destroy it.

  Wearily, she glanced up from where she sat in the courtyard. Evening shadows were beginning to lengthen on the ground in front of her feet. Soon it would be too dark to read. For the past thirty minutes she’d been leafing through the testament, reading a verse here and there, hoping by some miracle that something in the words would snap the chains binding her memory. She’d even gripped the book and prayed for God to help her.

  If only her memory would return, she thought miserably. She wouldn’t have to face an unknown life in California. She wouldn’t even necessarily have to go back there. If she knew about herself she might have the courage—the right—to stay and try to win Wyatt’s love. As it was, she couldn’t convince him of her goodness. Not without a past to back it up.

  Footsteps alerted her that someone was approaching the end of the courtyard, where she sat out of sight of the main part of the house. Expecting it to be one of the bodyguards Ryan still had posted on the ranch, she glanced around briefly. Then her heart suddenly clutched.

  Wyatt was walking slowly toward her. His face was grim. Black brows were drawn together above his hazel-green eyes, forming one long slash across his forehead. His lips were flat and hard, his jaw unmoving.

  Deciding it would be a waste of time to bother with the niceties of a greeting, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

  “Matthew told me you were leaving tomorrow,” he said cuttingly. “I wondered when I was going to hear about it. After you got to California?”

  She blanched at his words. “I was going to call you in the morning before I caught my flight.”

  “Really.”

  She huffed out a breath. “Yes. Really.”

  He sank down beside her on the swinging love seat. “What if I said you couldn’t go?”

  She glanced at him sharply and tried not to let the beautiful, rugged lines of his face sway her determination. “I haven’t done anything wrong. You can’t stop me.”

  No. He couldn’t legally stop her. He wasn’t sure he could stop her any other way, or even if he should try. Everything inside him was sick and torn apart.

  “Matthew says you’re running away from me.”

  Coming from Wyatt, the statement jolted her. It was one thing for Matthew and Maggie to see how she felt, but it was altogether different to expose her feelings to this hard man beside her.

  “I can’t continue to live here on the Double Crown forever. It wouldn’t be good for the Fortunes, or me.”

  Her fingers were nervously sliding up and down her thighs. He itched to place his hand over them and still their movement. But he didn’t. He knew once he touched her he wouldn’t be able to stop.

  “So, Matthew was wrong. Your going has nothing to do with me?”

  How was she ever going to bear leaving this place and Wyatt behind? she wondered. The idea of never seeing his face, hearing his voice or touching him was crushing everything inside her.

  “Matthew was a lot right,” she confessed in a small voice. Then, fixing her gaze on the bible in her lap, she went on, “I’m frightened of what you do to me, Wyatt. Of how you make me feel. I guess…I want you too much. And you…well, what you feel for me is skin-deep.”

  There was pain in her voice. Wyatt hated to think he’d caused it. He didn’t want Gabrielle ever to hurt. Over anything. Did that mean he loved her? Dear Lord, the answer was beyond him. He was a different man from the one he’d been before Gabrielle crashed into his life. Whether the difference in him was good or bad, he didn’t know.

  “Maybe you’re right to go, Gabrielle. I can’t offer you anything,” he said flatly.

  The breath she drew in stabbed her chest like a thousand needles. “You mean, you don’t want to offer me anything.”

  He kept his groan of frustration inside where she couldn’t hear it. “You’re young. Much younger than I am. You don’t know who might have been in your past. There might be some guy in California waiting for you to return to him.”

  Gabrielle found the courage to look at him. “If there was such a guy, it’s pretty obvious I didn’t get as close to him as I have to you,” she said wryly.

  Wyatt closed his eyes and swallowed. The idea of another man touching her as he had made him feel absolutely murderous. She belonged to him! All this past week he’d imagined those hundred acres as his. He’d pictured a ranch house with himself and Gabrielle in it—making love and babies.

  Yet he wasn’t a fool. His house in the suburbs had never been a home because it wasn’t filled with love. His parents’ house had rotted and crumbled because there’d been no love to keep it strong. And if Wyatt ever did have the courage to build a ranch house in its place, the structure would have to have love to be anything more than a house. Was he crazy to dare think Gabrielle could give him that love?

  When minutes began to pass and he didn’t reply, Gabrielle decided he’d said all he had to say on the matter.

  Sighing, she rose to her feet. “I think I’ll go to the kitchen for some iced tea. Would you like to go in? Or I’ll bring the drinks back here.”

  Her voice finally penetrated his deep thoughts. He glanced up at her as though he was surprised to see her standing. “Were you saying something about drinks?”

  It wasn’t like Wyatt to be distracted. But he was a man who always had a lot on his plate, she reasoned. She was just a morsel among his other problems.

  “Iced tea. I’m going to the kitchen after some.” She handed him the Bible. “Would you keep that beside you until I get back?”

  He accepted the partially damaged book. “What were you doing with this thing?”

  She shrugged. “Praying for a miracle. Why don’t you read a few verses while I go fetch the tea? There’s plenty of things in there about faith and trust. And love.”

  She looked so beautiful. Even in a pair of plain khaki shorts and a navy blouse, with her hair in tangled waves upon her shoulders, she was enough to turn any man’s head. And she would, he thought sickly, once she got to California.

  “Yeah,” he muttered. “But would a man like me understand any of it?”

  She shrugged again, then as
she turned toward the house, tossed over her shoulder, “Why don’t you try?”

  Wyatt watched her until she disappeared into the house, then he placed the partially scorched Bible on the seat beside him. Gabrielle must believe the sacred book could tell her something. When he’d walked up on her, she’d been leafing through the pages, a frown of desperation on her face. Had she been searching for a certain passage? He realized many people had a favorite quote from the scriptures to help guide them in life.

  Curious now, he picked up the Bible and quickly flipped through the brown-edged pages. As far as he could tell, no lines had been marked or highlighted. And though Wyatt wasn’t an overly religious man, by any means, he attended church from time to time and knew it was a natural thing to mark verses that the preacher’s sermon touched upon. The appearance of this Bible gave him the impression that it had been used for something other than church-going.

  He closed it, studied the front and back, then opened the front cover. No names or dates written. No clues as to why Gabrielle had carried it all the way from California—

  His gaze suddenly zeroed in on a piece of cellophane tape pressed near the edge of the inside seam. Quickly he stripped away the tape and discovered a slit had been cut through part of the covering to make a secret envelope. Certain he was on to something now, he fished inside with one finger and was rewarded when it came into contact with something. Heedless of damaging the cover any more, he ripped the slit wider and dumped the contents onto his lap.

  “What in the hell?” he muttered, his hand slowly reaching for one of the two photos. It was a snapshot of Ryan and Cameron and their sister Miranda before she’d run away from the family. Quickly, he studied the faces, then flipped the photos over and read the names listed on the back. The second picture was of Kingston and Selena Fortune, parents of the three siblings.

  His mind buzzed. Where had the photos come from? He picked up the other item that had tumbled out with the snapshots. Unfolding it, he quickly scanned the document, which appeared to be part of an insurance policy.

  What did any of this mean? Had his worst nightmare just become true? Had Gabrielle been playing him for a sucker all this time?

  Fourteen

  When Gabrielle returned to the courtyard, Wyatt was still seated on the swing, waiting for her.

  “Here’s the tea,” she announced. Then with little more than mild curiosity, she nodded at the items on his lap. “What’s that?”

  Wyatt took the glass from her offered hand, and she sat back down beside him as though nothing had changed since she’d left a few moments ago. He looked at her with shock and disbelief.

  “You tell me,” he said. “I found it in your Bible.”

  Her brows slowly lifted as her gaze fell from his accusing face down to the photos and the folded piece of heavy paper.

  “In my Bible? But…there wasn’t anything in my Bible,” she argued. “I leafed through it over and over. I even held it upside down and shook it, hoping a card or something might be stuck between the pages. I couldn’t find anything.”

  “Well, I did. They were hidden between the cover and inside paper liner. Take a look.”

  Uneasy now, Gabrielle set her glass of tea aside and reached for one of the photos. After studying it, she said in a confused voice, “I don’t think I know these people.”

  “Hmm. Well, those two people are Ryan’s mother and father,” he said dryly. “What about this one?”

  She took the other photo and carefully scanned the features of the three people standing together. “I’m not sure. But I believe the man in the middle resembles Ryan. If it is, he must have been little more than a teenager here.”

  “It is Ryan. You don’t know the other two?”

  She shook her head, then suddenly her eyes popped wide open. “Wyatt! What were photos of the Fortunes doing in my Bible?”

  “You tell me,” he repeated.

  Once again she shook her head in bewilderment. “But I have no idea! Do you think I knew the Fortunes before I lost my memory?”

  His lips spread to a thin line. “None of them recognized you when you arrived here,” he pointed out.

  Her mind began to whirl with all sorts of questions and implications. Yet she could remember nothing. “Is that something else you found with the pictures?” she asked, gesturing toward the paper on his lap.

  Without saying a word, he handed her the document. Gabrielle opened it and quickly scanned the information. It didn’t make sense to her. These things must somehow be connected to her. But how?

  “I…I don’t understand any of this. Who is Miranda Fortune? Why would I have a part of the woman’s insurance policy?”

  Wyatt felt cold as his gaze met hers. “You really are good, Gabrielle. You must have come from an acting family to have this much talent.”

  Her jaw dropped as she realized where his suggestion was leading. “You think I’m acting?” she practically shrieked. “You believe I really know about all of this?”

  “It came from your Bible, didn’t it?”

  She looked down at the damaged book. It had traveled with her all the way from California for some reason. The photos and insurance document had to be the purpose.

  “Let’s go in the house,” he said roughly. “I want the Fortunes to see all of this. They think you’ve been innocent all this time. Now they can see for themselves that you were up to something. Why don’t you tell me what it was, and save yourself the embarrassment of confessing in front of them.”

  She jumped to her feet and glared at him. “I have nothing to confess! I have no memory! I can’t tell you why I had any of these things, but I know it wasn’t for sinister reasons! But you obviously believe otherwise,” she added sickly.

  With the photos and document in one hand, he rose from the love seat and gripped her arm. They entered the house through the glass doors off the great room. Ryan, Lily and Mary Ellen were sitting on the couch having a glass of wine. The three of them looked up with mild surprise as Wyatt led Gabrielle over to them.

  Ryan quickly spotted the dark look on Wyatt’s face and rose to his feet. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m not sure, Ryan. I thought maybe you or some of your family might be able to put this little puzzle together.” He handed Ryan the photos and paper. “I found these in a secret compartment in Gabrielle’s Bible. She says she didn’t know they were there, or anything else about them.”

  Ryan took one look at the pictures and gasped. The two women behind them quickly rose to their feet. “What is it, darling?” Lily asked.

  “I’m not sure,” he answered in a voice that was suddenly quivering with excitement. “This is…Miranda. Little Miranda. My sister.” He handed the photos to the two women, then unfolded the insurance policy. “Oh, God, this is her. The date she was born. Her name. Everything. The policy was dated a few years ago—but this is proof! Proof Miranda is still alive!”

  This wasn’t the response Wyatt had been expecting from the older man. “What do you think Gabrielle was doing with these things? Why was she coming here to the ranch with them?”

  Ryan glanced up from the paper. His hands were trembling, and there was an incredulous smile on his face as he looked at Gabrielle. “You must be her daughter, honey! You must be my niece!” He tossed the paper down on the coffee table, then came around to Gabrielle and took her face in both his hands. “Let me look at you—really look at you. Why didn’t I see it before?”

  A few steps away, Mary Ellen carefully studied the photos. “This is the three of you,” she agreed. “Cameron, Ryan and Miranda. My goodness, this was taken years ago!”

  Ryan said, “I’m trying to remember how Miranda looked before she went away, and now I’m sure.” His smile broadened as he looked from Wyatt’s shocked face back to Miranda’s bemused one. “Yes. You have her features. You can’t remember her? Or tell us where she is?”

  Gabrielle’s expression was pitifully blank and regretful. Ryan dropped his hands from her face and
sighed with disappointment.

  “I’m so sorry, Ryan. I can’t. Are you certain about all of this?” she asked hoarsely. “I mean…I can’t believe I’m a Fortune.”

  “I don’t believe it!” Wyatt practically growled.

  Gabrielle couldn’t look at him. His doubts and accusations were simply too much for her heart to handle.

  “Wyatt, I know it’s your job to be suspicious, but this is one time you’re wrong.” Ryan said, walking over to the telephone. “I’m going to call the rest of the family here to the house. I can’t wait to tell them we’ve got a new blood relative!”

  Wyatt threw up his hands in a gesture of helpless disgust.

  Certain her legs had turned to rubber, Gabrielle said weakly, “I think I’d better sit down.”

  She sank into the nearest armchair. Lily filled another goblet of wine and carried it over to Gabrielle. “Here, honey, drink this. You must be feeling pretty shocked right now. It isn’t every day a girl learns she’s an heiress.”

  Gabrielle darted a doubtful glance at Wyatt, who was now pacing around the large room like an angry mountain lion. Obviously he believed she was some sort of con artist. That she’d deliberately hidden the information about the Fortunes in the Bible to somehow use against them. The idea crushed her. Yet she could see how the whole thing would look suspicious. And Wyatt was every inch a lawman.

  “Ryan can’t be sure about me. I might have had those documents for some other reason,” Gabrielle said.

  Mary Ellen shook her head as she came to stand just behind Lily. “Now that Ryan has put the notion in my head, you do favor Miranda. Especially if I think of her without all that lipstick and makeup she wore.”