Dynasties: The Elliotts, Books 1-6

by Various Authors

  He covered her hand with his and laced their fingers. “No. I’m feeling better, just bruised.”

  “Then what’s up?” she asked, again with concern.

  “When I went into the station yesterday to file my report, we had some news about your case. Seems the investigation has turned up eight potential shoemakers that design custom boots like yours. It’ll take a few days to track down a list of their clients. The boots are high-end, as you know, ranging in price from two to three thousand dollars a pair.”

  Jane sat up on the bed and leaned forward, clutching the sheet to her bare chest. She looked so beautiful sitting there with hope filling her eyes that Mac couldn’t pry his gaze away. Yet he ached for her in ways he never had before in his life. The lawman in him knew it was his duty to find out who she was and to return her to the life she’d once led, the one she’d had before he’d found her up on Deerlick Canyon. But Mac cursed the news, as well. He’d come to dread the day when Jane Doe found out her identity.

  “Are you saying I might find out soon who I am? That one of the names on the list might be mine?”

  Mac nodded, gauging Jane’s reaction. She smiled then and lay her head down on her pillow slowly, her eyes bright with anticipation. “I wonder what my real name is. Where I live. There are so many things I’ve wondered about.”

  She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Just think, Mac. In a few days I’ll know who I am.”

  “Maybe. I don’t want to get your hopes up. Not yet. Not until we have something more concrete. That’s why I held off telling you. But now…well, I figured that you and I have to face facts.”

  Jane wrestled the sheets off and sat up on her knees, naked to the world and beautiful to him. “What facts?”

  Mac remained silent. He was torn with wanting what was right for Jane and the nagging pain in his gut telling him that she’d be gone before long.

  She stared into his eyes and he couldn’t hide the indecision he felt, or the pain.

  Jane immediately responded. “It won’t change anything between us, Mac. It can’t.”

  He tossed back the covers and got out of bed. “Everything is going to change, Jane. We can’t pretend it won’t.” He picked up his clothes and began dressing.

  “I wasn’t pretending…about anything,” she said honestly, before getting up and grabbing her own clothes.

  Mac waited for her to slip on her pants and blouse. “I wasn’t, either. Let’s just wait and see what happens.” He wrapped his arms around her to reassure her, but he had doubts. He’d been a fool to get involved with Jane in the first place. Hell, he’d tried not to. Tried to ignore every sweet aspect of her personality, the tempting allure of her sexy body and those big lavender eyes. But from day one, he’d been a goner, and now they’d both pay the price. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

  Jane rested her head on his chest. He brought her closer, their bodies touching intimately, with a familiarity Mac had known only one other time in his life, with his wife. But nothing compared to how Jane felt in his arms, the rightness of it. Desire surged again, but he held back, needing to hold her more than anything else.

  “I never thought that learning my identity might hurt me.”

  “It won’t, Jane. I promise it won’t. You’ll be glad when you find out about yourself.”

  She lifted her chin and he felt her eyes on him. “Will I?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, you will.”

  “And what about you?”

  “Me?” he asked, looking away, ignoring her penetrating gaze. He didn’t want her to see his face when he told the biggest lie of his life. “I’ll be glad, too, Jane. It’s what we’ve been working for all this time. Now, we both have work to do today. Are you ready?”

  Jane glanced around the ranch house with sadness in her eyes. “Yes, I’m ready. Let’s go home.”

  The words stuck in Mac’s head all the back to Winchester. He hadn’t planned it, didn’t know how or when it had happened, but he’d come to think of Jane as “home.”

  “What do you mean, you’re moving out?” Mac interrogated Lizzie from across the parlor.

  “Exactly what I said, Mac. I found a place and I’m moving out. It’s time, big brother. Doesn’t mean that I don’t love you, or I don’t appreciate you taking care of me all those years when I was a kid. But I’m not a kid anymore.”

  Jane watched the scene unfold from the doorway of the parlor, frozen to the spot. She’d known things would change between her and Mac when Lizzie arrived home this morning, but she couldn’t have guessed this turn of events. Jane didn’t want to interfere, felt it wasn’t her place to listen in on this conversation, but Lizzie had asked her to be there, to act as a buffer when she told Mac the news. Jane couldn’t refuse Lizzie’s request. Both siblings had done so much for her. And she wanted to help Lizzie. She wanted to see her happy.

  “Hell, I know you’re not a kid. That’s not what this is all about.”

  “It’s about me gaining some independence. It’s about giving you the space you need, Mac.”

  He gestured widely, his arms outstretched. “It’s a big enough house. I have all the space I need.”

  “Then maybe I don’t have all the space I need,” she said quietly, looking at Jane. Jane nodded, giving her encouragement. Mac was formidable, a man you wouldn’t want to cross, but Lizzie had rights, too, and Jane wouldn’t refuse her support. “I found a place just a few miles from here, Mac. It’s great, really. And I have plans for fixing it up.”

  Mac stared at her, then at Jane. He paced the floor, his face a study in fury. He shook his head over and over, breathing deeply.

  Jane hated to see this confrontation. These past few days with Mac had been glorious. After they’d returned home from his ranch house, they’d gotten into a domestic routine like any other happy couple. Mac would go off to work and Jane would spend time volunteering at the bookstore. She’d come home and fix dinner, then they’d spend quiet time sitting together outside, talking about mundane things until they fell into bed. Nothing was mundane about their lovemaking, though. It was hot and passionate one time, then sweet and lazy the next.

  The only bleak spot marring their days had been with the news that Jane’s identity was still a mystery. The investigators, including Mac himself, had located every woman who’d had boots made by the eight shoemakers on the list. Every one had checked out. Every single woman had been accounted for. Mac had come home that night with a dozen red roses, gently breaking the news to her. Jane had been sorely disappointed, her hopes dashed, but Mac had been so sweet and tender, holding her and making love to her throughout the night, that Jane had woken with a newfound feeling of hope. And it had little to do with learning her identity.

  “Damn it!” Mac’s curse brought her back. He threw his arms up, his voice filled with disgust. “Maybe Jane can talk some sense into you.”

  Jane walked over to him, put her hands on his arms and said gently, “Maybe you should talk to Lizzie, Mac. All you’ve been doing since she told you her plans is shout. Sit down and listen to her.” Jane turned to Lizzie. “Both of you, listen to each other.”

  Mac opened his mouth to comment, but a knock at the door stopped him. He walked over and yanked the door open.

  Deputy Lyle Brody stood on the threshold.

  “Morning, Sheriff.”

  Mac grunted, his face grim. “Brody. What’s up? Hell, it’s Sunday. Is there a problem at the station?”

  Standing tall, Lyle peered into the house, meeting Lizzie’s eyes. He smiled, and Mac turned his head in his sister’s direction to find Lizzie smiling back. Jane walked up to stand beside her. “Actually, boss, I came here to see Lizzie.”

  “This isn’t a good—”

  Lizzie rushed up and slipped out the door to stand right next to the deputy. “Hi, Lyle.”

  “Lizzie,” Lyle said, “it’s good to see you. Do you have time to take a walk with me?”

  Lizzie turned her back on Mac and answered, �
��I’d love to.”

  Mac turned to Jane, his face wrought with emotion. He slammed the door after the two had taken off down the street. “What the hell’s happening around here?”

  Jane took his hand and led him over to the couch. “Sit.”

  He glared at her with defiance, but Jane knew him better than that. She knew his gruff facade was only window dressing, covering up a more vulnerable man underneath. That guarded vulnerability was one of the reasons she loved him so much. She reached up to kiss his lips, and gave a little shove. “Sit down.”

  The shove wouldn’t have budged him if he hadn’t wanted to comply. He sat down.

  She planted herself atop his lap and wrapped her arms around him. “Things are changing, Mac. And it’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay.”

  “Lizzie doesn’t want to hurt you. Don’t make it harder on her than it has to be. She adores you, Mac. But it’s time to let her go.”

  “Don’t give me the if-you-love-her-you’ll-let-her-go speech, Jane.”

  Jane’s chuckle broke the tension and she grinned. “You know me so well, Mac.”

  He didn’t budge, his expression still grim. “What’s she doing with him, anyway?”

  “Lyle? She likes him. A lot. And apparently the feeling is mutual. She only wants your blessing. And in this day and age, I’d say that was something special.”

  Mac sighed heavily, closing his eyes. “He’s not right for Lizzie.”

  “Mac, listen to me. I think I’ve figured out why you’re so opposed to Lizzie seeing Lyle.”

  Mac tipped his chin up to listen, but with narrowed eyes. Jane knew she had to tread carefully. Mac was a prideful man who didn’t like anyone analyzing his motives. “I’m listening.”

  “All your life you’ve been in control of things. You took care of Lizzie when she was younger, being both brother and father to her. You worked hard at your job, and built a wonderful career as a sheriff who is highly respected. You’re handsome and strong and perfect in almost every way.”

  “I don’t think of myself like that, Jane.”

  “I do.”

  His lips broke into a reluctant smile, but a smile nonetheless. “Yeah?”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Are you trying to get me into bed, honey? Because I’m pretty much a sure thing.”

  Jane let out an unexpected chuckle. “I’m glad, but let’s get back to the real subject here. I think that having Lyle around the station house is one thing, but you don’t want to see him anywhere else. You don’t want Lizzie to have a relationship with him, because every time you see him, it’s a reminder of the one failure in your life, Mac. I’m not saying your divorce was your fault. I don’t think it was, but Lyle Brody reminds you of something you couldn’t fix. Something that you couldn’t control. You don’t have anything against Lyle personally. In fact, I think you like him. It’s what he represents that bothers you.”

  Mac sat there quietly, absorbing her little speech, staring off into space.

  “Am I close?” she asked.

  He lifted her off of him, gently setting her down on the sofa, then stood up to face her. With hands on hips, he stared into her eyes, his expression pensive. “I don’t know, Jane. I’ll give it some thought.”

  Jane stood to face him, and her encouraging smile was enough for Mac at the moment. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been happier. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her expression so open and honest. “I meant all those things I said about you, Mac. You’re a special man.”

  Mac had to face facts. He was crazy about Jane. She was the special one, the woman who had filled his life and brought him a kind of joy he’d never known before. It was time he owned up to his emotions. It was time to admit to Jane what was in his heart. “Jane, I’m—”

  A hard knocking at the door interrupted Mac’s confession. With a deep sigh, he glanced at the front door. “Lizzie must have gotten locked out,” he said, shuffling aside his annoyance. His sister had lousy timing, but he wasn’t angry with her. Not anymore. Thanks to Jane, he decided to cut his sister some slack. “Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to have her move out,” he said, striding to the door. “At least this place would quiet down some.”

  “I’ll be in kitchen making coffee,” Jane said, grinning, and Mac figured she wanted to give him a chance to speak with his sister alone.

  Mac opened the door. To his surprise, it wasn’t Lizzie standing on the doorstep, but an impeccably dressed man with jet-black hair, looking him directly in the eye. “Sheriff Riggs?”

  Mac nodded, a sense of dread he couldn’t explain invading his chest.

  “I’m here for Bridget Elliott.”

  Ten

  Mac swallowed hard. He sized the man up in one quick moment and his instincts told him this was the real deal. The air of confidence about him, the way he looked Mac squarely in the eyes and his well-groomed appearance told the lawman that the mystery surrounding Jane Doe would soon be over.

  In a smooth move, the stranger produced a walletsize picture. His heart in his stomach, Mac took a quick look, seeing Jane smiling at the camera, with this man’s arms around her. “You do recognize the woman in the photo? Is this the woman who’s been living here?” he asked, and Mac came out of his stupor to realize that he should be the one asking questions.

  “Before I answer that, let me ask how you arrived on my doorstep and who are you?”

  The man shot him a no-nonsense look. “I’ve been searching for Bridget for ten days, Sheriff. I have contacts that led my search here.”

  Mac didn’t miss the note of softness in the man’s tone when he spoke Bridget’s name.

  Bridget?

  Was Jane’s name really Bridget Elliott?

  “What kind of contacts? Who are you?”

  “My contacts aren’t any of your concern. All that matters is finding Bridget.”

  “I still don’t know who you are,” Mac said firmly.

  “My name is Bryan. I’m Bridget’s—”

  “Mac, coffee’s ready,” Jane called out, and Mac gauged the man’s reaction at hearing her voice. His eyes widened and he tried to peer into the house. “That’s her voice,” he said decisively. “May I?” He took a step forward to enter.

  Mac wanted to block the doorway. He wanted to send this man packing. He didn’t know a thing about him, except he did know. The truth. This man had come to take Jane home.

  A soul-searing pain settled in Mac’s gut. Everything inside him ached with the knowledge that Jane was lost to him now. This man named Bryan had come to claim her. A quick glance at his left hand said he wasn’t married to her. But that didn’t mean that they weren’t deeply involved. Maybe engaged? All of Mac’s initial fears and apprehensions had come full circle now. And another emotion he hated to admit tore at him. Jealousy. So deep, so raw, that it shook him to the core.

  He forced himself to step away and allow the man entrance. Both men stood just inside the house.

  “The coffee’s hot, Mac,” Jane said, coming out of the kitchen holding a steaming mug. She shot him a look, then her gaze flew to the man who called himself Bryan. “Oh hi, Bryan. What are doing…”

  Jane stopped, the mug in her hand, shaking. She blinked, and Mac noted the revelations, her past instantly becoming her present, all reflected in her deep lavender eyes. She took a moment, as if she’d been hit with the fast-forward button to her life. There was no doubt that her memory had returned. He saw it all in her expressive face.

  Slowly, she set the mug down, then smiled at Bryan with such warmth that Mac felt as though an elephant had trampled his body. “Bryan!”

  She raced into his outstretched arms and he swung her around, lifting her off the ground, joy evident on both of their faces. “Oh my God,” she said, “Oh, my God. You’re here, you’re really here.”

  Bryan set her down. “I’m here, honey. I’ve been searching for you. You gave us all a big scare.”

  “I had amnesia, Bryan. B
ut everything came back to me. Just now. Seeing you. I can’t believe it. Everything’s back.”

  “That’s great, honey,” Bryan said, his gaze roaming over her, as if making sure she was all right. That proprietary look struck Mac like a sharp knife to the gut. Mac had been the one seeing to Jane’s welfare all this time. He’d reserved that right for himself.

  “I’m glad I found you,” Bryan continued. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “I remember now,” she began after a brief pause. “I flew to Colorado nearly two weeks ago, after Cullen’s wedding. My rental car broke down, so I started walking up the canyon road. I fell and hit my head. That must have been when I lost my memory. Mac found me. He and his sister, Lizzie, took me in.” She glanced at Mac, her face beaming. “Oh, sorry. Here I am, going on, and I haven’t introduced you. Bryan, this is Sheriff Mac Riggs. Mac, this is my cousin, Bryan Elliott.”

  “Cousin?” Mac couldn’t help blurting out. Stunned, he shook the hand Bryan had offered, still reeling with this new turn of events. Relief swamped him, and Mac took his first calm breath since the man had showed up on his doorstep.

  “Yep. Bryan and I are cousins. And I have a whole family back in New York, Mac. A whole big crazy family. I can’t wait to tell you all about them.”

  Mac ran his hand along his jaw, his lips pursed, listening to Jane—to Bridget Elliott—as she filled him in about her life. She’d smile as the memories washed over her, reciting them to him but at the same time seeming to relive them.

  Mac cursed his bad luck. Bridget Elliott was a rich New York socialite, whose family had an estate in the Hamptons, no less. Her family owned one of the most prestigious magazine publishing houses in the world. Bridget was the photo editor for Charisma, a high-end fashion magazine that catered to the rich and beyond. Hell, he’d been sleeping with a woman who under any other circumstances he wouldn’t have given the time of day. Bridget Elliott was way out of his league.

  He’d already had one failed relationship with a woman who had higher aspirations than bedding down with a small-town sheriff. Mac couldn’t help but place Bridget—he’d have to get used to calling her that—in the same category. Bridget Elliott might look like Jane Doe, might talk like Jane Doe, but Mac wouldn’t deceive himself. They were worlds apart.