by Linda Conrad
With that, Cinco reached out to pull her to him. He felt a tightening in his chest he didn't recognize. His own father had been so different. Cinco had never doubted the love of his parents. He'd always believed they'd wanted what was best for him.
He couldn't possibly imagine being glad they'd disappeared. But he could surely sympathize with her about the controlling and abusive father she'd had.
He leaned his sore chin against Meredith's silky hair, wondering about his feelings for the spectacular and strong woman he cradled in his arms. He wanted to make things better for her. To show her what real caring and love meant.
That last thought stopped him, but he brushed it aside, not wanting to think too much about what was going on inside him. Both of their emotions were strung tight at the moment. He'd think about it all later.
For now he made a vow to protect her from any more harm, either physical or emotional, and with his life.
Cinco cuddled her closer against the cold night air. She'd been through too much pain already. He wanted to make her world easier, friendlier. He wanted her to know how much he cared—that he was one person who would never deliberately walk away from her.
A shrill horn sounded from somewhere in the parking lot, and they stepped out of each other's arms, reorienting themselves to their surroundings.
"What time is it?" she asked.
"Huh?" he drawled with an absolute stroke of genius.
"The time?" she asked again. "I promised Abby that I'd get them home around ten. It's a school night."
Cinco didn't wear a watch, but he glanced around the sky as if he'd find a clock hanging on the North Star. "I suppose it's near ten."
"I'd better go round everyone up." She stopped and grimaced. "I'd better try to make amends with Bryan, too. I imagine his pride is bleeding."
"He's young. He'll get over it. Give him a little space and some time." Cinco rubbed at his tender jaw. "It's going to take me a whole lot longer to heal."
Meredith laughed—and the entire world stopped, slid sideways and turned rosy pink.
He realized he'd do just about anything to hear her laugh like that more often. Suddenly her happiness was the most important thing on earth. She'd already started the process of healing him somehow. Healing a gash in his heart he hadn't even known was there.
Cinco looked around and saw several youngsters begin to stream out of the café and head for their pickups. The parking lot was filled with trucks and SUVs that the teenagers had obviously borrowed from their folks. Cinco recognized them. The evening's doings must be winding down.
"I'll help you get the kids home. I can call a couple of the hands to bring a three-seat Suburban. One of them can drive your truck, too. With the three vehicles, we'll have them home in no time." He grinned at her. "But you'll ride with me."
Meredith threw a grateful glance his way. "Thanks."
One of the girls Cinco thought he'd recognized from Abby's class came up to Meredith just as she was about to enter the café. "I was just coming to look for you. We need to be heading home."
"Yes, Heather, I know. Help me find the others so we can leave."
"They're all right behind me," the girl told her. "Except for Bryan. We've looked everywhere for him, but it's like he vanished into thin air."
Meredith made a little sound of distress in her throat, and Cinco had his arm around her shoulders in an instant.
He looked down at the young girl. "Did you check out back and in the men's room?"
"Yes we did. Jack asked several of the other guys if they'd seen him too."
Cinco felt, more than heard, Meredith's gasp.
"He's a big boy. I'm sure he can take care of himself." Cinco addressed that to both the girl and to Meredith.
He turned Meredith by the shoulders and tried giving her a little more strength with his steady gaze. "I'll go see the fellow who runs the café. I've known him forever. We can leave a message for Bryan in case he shows up after we're gone, but I'm sure he's on his way home. Probably a little embarrassed by all the excitement."
Both women watched Cinco intently.
"I'll leave the phone number for the ranch. If he still needs a way home later, we'll arrange for a ride," he declared. "You can call his family and double-check that he made it there when we get back to the ranch."
Meredith felt undecided. She swiveled her head to look from the young girl's worried face to Cinco's confident one and back again.
Shoot. She had no choice but to bundle the rest of the kids off to their families. But she knew she'd never forgive herself if something bad had happened to Bryan. She'd never reneged on a responsibility before in her life, and not knowing where he had gone would just about kill her.
Things went from bad to worse that night for Meredith. She got home to the ranch at about ten-thirty and immediately called Bryan's host family. He had not yet returned to their house, and they weren't terribly happy about it, either.
"Calm down. He can't have gone far on foot. We'll find him," Cinco said in a soothing tone.
"I don't think he's a bad kid, just a little rash. I'd never forgive myself if…" she stammered.
"Hey, darlin'," Cinco grinned. "It wasn't you that he took a swing at."
She took a deep breath and counted to ten while he stood next to her still grinning. "You're right, I guess," she finally allowed. "But I did promise the families that I'd be the chaperon and get their kids home safely."
"Aww, darlin'. I'm not going to get into a blame game with you. But most of the trouble started and ended with me. That's why we're going to put all the resources of the Gentry Ranch into finding that kid tonight."
He turned to the phone on the kitchen wall. "I'll call Abby and round up a couple more hands. We'll find him."
"Abby? I thought she was off the ranch doing something else tonight. She was very mysterious about it."
Cinco raised his eyebrows. "Mysterious? It's Tuesday night, right?"
Meredith nodded.
"Poker night," he laughed. "Abby may not want the church to know, but she's joined the wranglers' regular Tuesday-night game."
He shrugged a shoulder at her surprised look. "She said something about becoming just one of the guys."
Meredith smiled to herself. Yeah, that was exactly something Abby would do.
Cinco called the bunkhouse and elicited all the help they could use, five trucks full of people who'd grown up in the county and knew every nook and cranny of it. But three hours later Bryan was nowhere to be found.
Finally at 2:00 a.m. Bryan's family called Cinco's cell phone to say that their wayward charge had reappeared, and seemed none the worse for the wear. Except of course for all the trouble he was in.
Apparently Bryan had found a new friend, a neighbor boy who, upon seeing Bryan's embarrassment at the dance, had offered him a ride and some conversation. They admitted they'd lost track of time.
Glad it was over, Cinco drove Meredith back to the ranch and they trudged off to their rooms, hoping to catch a couple of hours of sleep before the next day began. She dragged herself into her room, exhausted and disheveled.
Kicking off her boots, she fell into the bed, too tired to undress or brush her teeth or even undo her braid. Tomorrow would be soon enough to worry about it all.
But when her head hit the pillow, she was suddenly wide awake. Nervous energy swirled inside as her thoughts strayed to the happenings of the long night. She'd been so worried about Bryan. She'd never actually worried much over someone's welfare before, and it confused and exhausted her.
She tried to put it aside so she could get some sleep, but soon thoughts of Cinco replaced the thoughts of the lost teen. Cinco seemed like a born worrier. How did he stand the strain?
He worried about his sister's and brother's welfare and happiness until he drove himself and everyone around him crazy. Now he'd apparently decided to worry about her, too.
Well, she could take care of herself, thank you.
Though, on second th
ought, perhaps he could take care of her physical needs in that special smooth way of his anytime.
Her mind relished the anticipation. The thrill of his hands and his mouth. She'd never needed any of that before, but finding it on an isolated ranch with a very special cowboy was like being given a present—or a reprieve.
Thinking about him brought a warm glow to her body and relaxed the tense muscles enough for her to fall asleep.
But late-night dreams plagued her and soon she slept only fitfully. Tossing, waking, drowsing, waking.
Familiar nightmares of dark places and growling dogs chasing after her came, but she banished them by waking herself up. Her will struggled for control of the night and her dreams. She needed to sleep. To rejuvenate.
Near dawn, Meredith rose in a fevered sweat. She peeled off her clothes and went to open the window, needing some cold air against her skin.
While drawing aside the curtains, she glanced out the window. Shadows, cast from the brilliant yard lights and the three-quarters moon, danced gaily as the breeze blew tree branches and shrubs. It looked so different at night—in the quiet. After she threw open the window sash, the cooling breeze caressed her skin. The light scent of frost and wood smoke began to soothe her overheated body.
As she stood there breathing in the brisk air, she saw something glinting in the moonlight. Meredith squinted into the darkness, trying to get a better look. Something … or someone … was out there. She searched the shadows for movement, finally spotting a figure hidden under a tree with what looked like a lit cigarette.
The form moved again and she could clearly see the outline of a man, standing there—waiting and smoking.
She tried to calm herself with the rationale that being nervous about a man smoking in the dark was silly. The ranch was the safest place for her, she'd finally convinced herself of that.
Just as she started to breathe again, the cigarette glowed underneath one of the oak trees. She tried to distinguish the man's size and shape so she could ask Cinco later who might've been out there at this hour. Deciding it looked rather smallish for a man, she wondered if it might be a woman.
Then she remembered the short, thin image of the man she'd witnessed shooting General VanDerring. Richard Rourke.
Meredith clutched at her throat and backed away from the window in horror. Panic raced through her as she kept backing away from the potential terror that was lying in wait for her just outside.
In the dark and in her hysteria, she backed into something hard. Not stopping to think that it might just be a piece of furniture, she did something she couldn't remember ever doing before in her life.
She screamed.
* * *
Eight
« ^ »
Cinco was already sitting on the edge of his bed when he heard Meredith scream. Something … some chill of apprehension woke him a few minutes earlier. He'd left the door from his bedroom to the hallway open when he went to bed—just in case.
It was a good thing he'd fallen asleep with his clothes on because he never hesitated to jump up and run in her direction. His feet barely touched the floor until he reached her door and threw it open.
"Meredith?" He knew his voice was uncontrolled, gruff and too loud. Well, too bad.
Only the light coming through her bedroom window relieved the darkness of the room. But it was enough for him to get a glimpse of her outline scrambling toward the bed.
He heard her curse once, and he headed toward the noise. The panic hit him with full force then, and he found himself breathing hard as he fumbled his way through the dark.
"Meredith, say something. Are you okay?"
The noise of the bedside light being clicked on came only a second before the room was fully illuminated. Cinco took a moment to adjust his vision to the light.
When he focused clearly, he saw Meredith standing next to the bed, holding the edges of a blanket that she'd wrapped firmly around her shoulders. She didn't look so much frightened as embarrassed. The flame of pink moved up from her neck to her cheeks.
"Did I wake you?" she asked weakly. "I didn't mean to disturb you. I'm sorry."
He ignored her apology and went to stand next to her, to assure himself that she was okay. "You screamed. What happened?"
She started to shake her head at his question, but the blanket began to slip so she grabbed at it first, catching the corner in the nick of time. "I never scream."
He raised his eyebrows at her and fisted his hands on his hips. It was all he could do to keep his distance, standing a few feet away while she stood there trembling.
"That was the very first time. Honest," she declared.
When he tilted his head, obviously waiting for some explanation, Meredith felt her fear and embarrassment begin to turn to anger. Not sure what to be mad at, or whom, she lashed out at Cinco.
"Damn it. If you'd kept the security as tight on this place as you claimed this wouldn't have happened."
He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "None of what? What's happened?"
She poked a finger out from behind the fringe on the blanket's edge. "Out there."
She pointed toward the open window. "I saw a man standing in the dark … watching me."
Cinco swung around and went to the window. "Who … what…?" He looked out at the black night.
"Oh, I'm sure he'll be gone by now," she said with chagrin. "If it was Richard Rourke, he wouldn't hang around to be caught after he heard me screaming like a wild woman."
"Rourke? On the ranch?" Cinco shook his head. "No way. He wouldn't know how to get this far without being spotted by someone. There are fences and gates, you know."
She clucked her tongue at him. "I know how 'safe' this place supposedly is. But I also know what I saw."
He took a step toward her, holding out his palms to placate her. She could hear him trying to gentle his voice. "Now, sugar, what exactly did you see in the dark?"
"Don't talk to me like an idiot," she muttered. "I'll have you know my night vision has been rated outstanding. I saw a man about Rourke's size and build, hiding in the shadows and smoking a cigarette. Would any of your ranch hands be smoking out there at this time of night?"
Cinco shook his head. "We don't allow smoking outside or anywhere near the stock. Fire danger's too great in this part of the country. The men prefer to chew when out of doors." He cocked his head, gazing at her with a wary look.
"You sure you weren't dreaming?" he asked carefully.
She pulled the blanket tighter. "Now, what do you think? You believe I'm the type to scream bloody murder because of a dream?"
Instead of an answer, Cinco went to the window, shut it and drew the curtains.
He turned to her with an intense expression on his face. "Get dressed," he ordered. "I'll get a couple of flashlights and a rifle. I'll go out to see if I can find that shadow you thought you saw. But I guarantee it was nothing."
Cinco practiced deep breathing and counting to ten as he left Meredith to get his jacket. He gathered up a flashlight and headed for the stairs. She did wild things to his equilibrium. He knew it, but he just couldn't stop himself.
When he'd heard her scream, he was crazy with worry. Then when he'd found her safely in her room alone, his anger flashed, turning him into some kind of a barbarian. As he'd calmed down, the sight of her standing there with only a blanket for cover and a rosy pink glow spreading over her body like the flush of passion toppled him into a heated desire that he'd had to fight off like a wild mustang.
When he arrived at the foot of the stairs, he discovered Meredith standing, waiting for him.
"I'm ready when you are." She'd dressed in jeans, jacket and boots.
But he noticed she hadn't rebraided her hair. Apparently, taking only the time to pull it out of whatever constraints were left from last night, she'd left it hanging in wild cascades down her back. Oh, glory.
Cinco didn't think he'd ever seen anything so lush or golden. His fingers began to twitch at the th
ought of the silken tresses sliding through his hands. Then all his blood went south while the image of her leaning over him with that hair gliding tantalizingly over his naked body nearly knocked him over.
His lower torso suddenly became his entire focus as his jeans became too tight. This was no time for such thoughts. His pride as a protector was at stake. He clamped down on the inside of his cheek and surreptitiously tried to shake his pant legs out, desperate to loosen the pressure.
Hoping she hadn't noticed his physical state, he shook his head. "You stay put. I've called a couple of hands to meet me outside."
Meredith tried to argue but he remained firm. He didn't really believe he'd find anything, but just in case, she would be safe inside the house.
A few minutes later he stood outside and below her window, searching for the spot where she'd supposedly seen the shadow of a man.
As he moved into the shadows that were being tossed around by the stiff fall breeze, he pictured the ranch hands. Richard Rourke could not have found his way under Meredith's window, and Cinco had known most of the people who worked on the ranch for most of his life.
Oh, a few of the men might be the same size and general description as Rourke, but he couldn't believe any of them would deliberately disobey ranch rules. And if they did, would they be stupid enough to do it here, within sight of the main house? Cinco mentally shook his head. Not likely.
Meredith had to have been dreaming.
He swung the light from his flashlight to where she'd indicated the man had stood. The ground next to the ebony tree didn't seem to hold much except for fall leaves and the ever-present ebony pods. But as soon as he'd had that thought, the beam of light moved over a flash of white lying on the ground. He bent to check it out more closely.
Dang if it wasn't a cigarette butt.
He picked it up and felt the snuffed end. The butt was still slightly warm to the touch, even in the frigid temperatures of the early morning. He pointed the light closer to the tree and noticed the leaves and ground had been recently disturbed.
