by Gail Barrett
With effort, he ended the kiss and tucked her head against his neck. For an eternity he continued to hold her, stunned by the feelings churning inside him, absorbing the wonder of her safe in his arms.
Words bubbled up, but he steeled his jaw to keep them from breaking free. No matter how desperately he wanted this woman, he couldn’t go through this again. She was going to leave. He had no right to ask her to stay. He couldn’t put his heart on the line.
Still badly shaken, he filled his lungs with the frosty air, then forced himself to pull back. “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice rough.
“I’m fine. Now.” She managed a crooked smile, but he saw how shaken she was. “Just exhausted and anxious to get home,” she added.
Home. Chicago. The place where she belonged.
He took another step back. “We’re almost to the road. We might be able to get a signal on our cell phones now.” Still struggling to control his emotions, he turned away and mounted his weary horse. She’d exposed feelings he’d stifled for years, longings he shouldn’t have—no matter how right she felt in his arms.
Tossed thoroughly off balance, he waited until she’d mounted Red, then started herding the weary cattle toward the road. But as they plodded along, he had to face the truth.
He loved her. He always would.
And there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it, except to protect himself the only way he knew how—by shutting down.
Bethany awoke from an exhausted slumber hours later. She opened her eyes, disoriented, and blinked at the fresh patches of snow dotting the gravel road. She glanced out the window, recognized the old stagecoach stop on a distant hill. They’d nearly reached Cole’s ranch.
She turned her attention to “Rocky” Rockwell, the deputy sheriff driving the SUV, and the past few hours rushed back. They’d loaded up the horses and cattle. They’d reported the wolf attack to the feds. Cole had hustled her into the deputy’s SUV, turning the heater on full blast, then talked to the sheriff about the men. She’d fallen asleep the minute she hit the seat.
She spotted Cole’s truck ahead and sighed, missing him already, but knew the separation would do her good. She’d been far too tempted to blurt out that she loved him—which wouldn’t have been fair to him. They had no chance for a future until she revealed the truth.
And maybe not even then. Assuming he forgave her deception, even if he wanted to share her future, where would they live? He’d never leave his ranch and move to Chicago, and she still couldn’t stay here.
But first things first. As soon as they arrived at the ranch she had to tell him about the attack in Bozeman and apologize for endangering his life. She also had to get answers from her father, confess that she’d suspected him all along—and hope Cole understood.
They hit a section of washboard, and the SUV rattled as hard as her jittering nerves. Then they crested a rise outside the ranch. Dozens of trucks and cars crowded the gravel road, taking her by surprise.
“What’s going on?” People congregated in the neighbor’s field. A television van recorded the scene. More people toting cameras surrounded the wooden gate.
The deputy grimaced. “Word of Lana’s kidnapping leaked out and the media is going nuts.”
“Oh, no.” The blitz surrounding the senator’s infidelities had been bad enough. This would feed the media frenzy and fuel the tabloids for weeks—causing headaches Cole didn’t need.
The deputy slowed as they neared the crowd, catching up to Cole. Journalists swarmed both vehicles, flashing cameras and hurling questions their way. “Idiots,” Rocky muttered. “Trying to get run over.” He honked and inched toward the gate.
Minutes later, they made it through. The reporters hung back, unable to trespass on private land. Bethany exhaled, relieved to finally escape the frantic crowd.
But now she had an even bigger hurdle to face.
The deputy parked beside the machinery shed, alongside Cole. Bethany climbed out, her muscles stiff, her head still dizzy with fatigue. But she’d sleep more later. She had to make a confession first.
Her heart beating triple-time, she went in search of Cole. She found him beside the machinery shed, talking to Earl. “Can I help?” she asked, glancing around.
His eyes met hers, triggering the usual sensual jolt. “No. Earl’s taking care of the horses. Go grab something to eat. We need to give the sheriff a statement as soon as he shows up.”
“All right.” She hesitated, her belly fluttering. “But if you have a minute, I need to talk to you…alone.”
“Sure.”
She waited while Cole wrapped things up with Earl, her tension rising with every second that passed. Why had she waited so long to tell him? How could she possibly explain?
They began walking toward the ranch house. She sneaked a glance at his rough-hewn profile, experiencing another attack of nerves.
“So what did you want to say?” he asked.
She inhaled. There was no good way to say it. She had to blurt it out. “I, um… I didn’t tell you, but that day I went to Bozeman to do research at the library someone tried to run me off the road.”
He abruptly came to a halt. “What?”
She hugged her arms, but couldn’t stem the anxiety welling inside. “On the way home that night there was a truck. I couldn’t see who it was. He had his bright lights on… He hit my bumper and tried to force me off the road.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I should have, I know. But I thought…” She dragged in another breath. “You wouldn’t let me go to the mountains if you knew.”
He gaped at her, incredulity in his eyes. “And that mattered?”
“Yes. I thought Tony was causing the problems on the ranch. It was my only chance to confront him. But I was wrong. I made a mistake. I let my feelings about him cloud my judgment. And as a result…I put us all at risk.”
His eyes stayed on hers. Several heartbeats passed. Then he tore his gaze away and stared into the distance, as if grappling for something to say.
“You lied to me.” His voice sounded dead.
Her stomach swooped. “I… Yes, I did.” She searched for a way to explain. But she had betrayed his trust. How could she rationalize that?
“Cole, I…”
The sheriff’s deputy sauntered over, his boots crunching on the gravel drive. “Sheriff Colton’s almost here,” he said. “He said to tell you he’ll need a statement from you both.”
Cole nodded and glanced his way. “We’ll wait in the house.” His eyes cut back to hers. The coldness in them froze her heart.
And the terrible realization slammed through her. He wouldn’t forgive her deception.
And he hadn’t even heard the worst.
Bethany huddled in an armchair a short time later, nursing a hot cup of tea. Despite a scalding shower, an afghan wrapped around her shoulders and her thickest pair of wool socks, she still couldn’t seem to warm up. Cole hadn’t looked at her since she’d sat down.
“How about you, Bethany?” the sheriff asked, drawing her reluctant attention to him. “Do you have anything to add to Cole’s report?”
“Not that I can think of.” She’d told him about the truck. She’d described the man she’d shot. “I only saw the one man.”
The sheriff snapped his notebook closed. “I’ve put out an alert. If he goes anywhere for medical treatment, we’ll pick him up.” He paused, then glanced around the group. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll head back to town.”
Her stomach like lead, Bethany looked at her father. He sat across from her on the couch, his wrinkled face pasty, his gnarled hands tightly clasped.
Why didn’t he speak out?
The sheriff stood. Dread settled around her heart. And she knew she had to act. She hated to confront her father in public, but she had to reveal the truth.
“Wait,” she said. The sheriff turned back. Everyone looked her way.
Swallowing hard, she met her father’s eyes. “D
ad?” she whispered. “You know something, don’t you?”
He opened his mouth, as if to protest. “Dad, please,” she pleaded. “We really need to know.”
He hesitated, then seemed to deflate. He slumped back against the cushions, his face even more waxy, looking every one of his sixty-eight years.
“You’re right. I…I do have something to say,” he admitted. “Something I should have said a long time ago. I know who’s involved in this.”
The sheriff sat back down. Bethany braved a glance at Cole, who sat with deceptive stillness, his arms crossed, his eyes riveted on her dad. Her hopes plummeted. He was furious. She should never have concealed the truth.
Her father let out a breath. “You were right that someone at the ranch was involved. It’s Kenny Greene.”
“Kenny?” she repeated, stunned. The mild-mannered boy she’d gone to school with? The boy Tony had bullied along with her? “But why?”
“Money. I guess he wanted to buy that fancy rig.”
“You’d better start at the beginning,” the sheriff said, sounding grim.
Her father nodded, but dropped his gaze to his hands. “The day I got hurt, I was riding in the pasture by the teepee ring. I saw Kenny with some men I didn’t know. I went to find out what they were doing on the ranch.
“They were going to shoot me. For what it’s worth, Kenny convinced them I wouldn’t talk. They tied me to the stirrup, made Red drag me a ways. After my leg broke, they cut me loose.”
Bethany closed her eyes, not wanting to imagine the horror, the humiliation and pain.
“They told me if I kept my mouth shut no one else would get hurt.” He lifted his gaze to Cole. “I didn’t know about your sister, the kidnapping. I thought they would cut some fences, maybe break another window, and you’d make the senator leave.”
“And when they killed that mercenary?” Cole asked, his voice so icy it made her heart lurch. “Why the hell didn’t you say something then?”
“I wanted to, but Kenny cornered me the day before. He said they’d kill Bethany if I talked.”
Her mind flashed back to the day they’d brought the cows in, when she’d seen them beside the corral. She’d attributed his pallor to his injury, not fear.
“They’d already broken my leg. I knew they’d follow through with their threat. But now…” His voice dropped. “It’s gone too far.”
Dead silence gripped the room. Her heart wrenched for her father, even as her anger rose. The man she’d idolized all her life, the man she’d revered, had let her down.
But he’d kept silent to protect her. Hadn’t she done the same for him? They’d both acted badly.
And as a result, they’d hurt Cole.
She looked at Cole. His jaw was bunched, his eyes cold. And panic spurted inside her. Somehow she had to convince him of their good intentions. Somehow she had to explain.
“Can you describe the men who hurt you?” the sheriff asked.
Her father nodded. “Yeah. I’m pretty good with faces.”
“Good.” The sheriff stood. “Be at the station at four. I’ll call in an artist from Bozeman so we can start circulating some pictures of these guys.” He turned to Cole. “I’ll put out an APB for Kenny, but he’s probably skipped town.”
Suddenly remembering the bridle piece in her pocket, Bethany rose and fished it out. “I found this in the field. I don’t know if it means anything.” She handed it to him.
“I’ll check it out. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a match. God knows we can use a break.” The sheriff and his deputy went to the door. Cole let them out, and their footsteps slowly faded. A hush fell over the room.
Her father grabbed his crutches, then hobbled over to Cole, who still stood near the door. “Cole, I’m sorry. I thought…” He hung his head. “Hell, there’s no excuse. It was a damned fool thing to do. I’ll pack my bag and go.”
His shoulders slumped, looking thoroughly defeated, her father limped toward his room. She watched him go, aching to console him.
But first she had to talk to Cole.
Swallowing hard, she started toward Cole. But he stalked to his study and slammed the door, the harsh finality of the sound giving rise to another swarm of nerves.
Pausing, she met Hannah’s eyes. The housekeeper stood by the kitchen, a stricken expression on her face. “He just needs time. He—he’s had a lot of disappointments in his life.”
Bethany managed to nod. But Hannah was wrong. If she didn’t reach Cole now, she never would.
Her heart pounding, she went to the study door. She raised her hand to knock, then reconsidered. She twisted the knob and went in.
Cole stood by the window, staring out at the burned barn. “Cole?” she whispered.
His back stiffened. “Go away.”
“I—I’d like to explain.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“I know that, but I have to tell you—”
He whipped around. His furious eyes slashed at hers. “Fine. You want to explain why you covered up for your father? Go right ahead.”
Her stomach balled. “I didn’t cover up exactly. I didn’t know anything for sure.”
“But you suspected. My cattle were dying. Men were getting killed. Hell, my sister was being held prisoner—and you didn’t say a word.”
“It wasn’t that simple.”
“The hell it wasn’t.
“It wasn’t. I wanted to tell you. I really did. But I didn’t have anything to go on. And I couldn’t accuse my dad without proof.
“You don’t know what it’s like,” she continued. “All my life people have misjudged me. They see the color of my skin and assume all sorts of things—that I’m lazy, that I steal. Even in Chicago, where I thought my coworkers knew me, they’ve accused me of something I didn’t do. And I couldn’t do that to my father. Not without proof.”
She drew in a ragged breath. “He’s my father, Cole, the only family I have. I owed him at least that much.”
“So you lied.”
“I was wrong,” she admitted. “I know that now. But you’ve made mistakes. You’ve done things that you regret.”
He let out a bitter sound. “I’ve made mistakes, all right.”
He meant her.
Her face burned. A huge ache constricted her chest. “Cole…”
“Your father’s leaving,” he continued, his voice hard. “I want you out of here, too.”
Sudden panic gripped her. She had to reach him. He had to understand. “Don’t do this,” she pleaded. “Don’t shut me out again. Can’t we talk—”
“Get out, Bethany. You’ve done enough damage. Go back to Chicago where you belong.”
Her throat closed tight. A huge wave of despair swamped her heart. He wouldn’t forgive her. He wouldn’t give her another chance.
And she refused to beg.
Summoning her tattered pride, she raised her chin. “Fine. I’ll go. You don’t need to tell me twice.”
Her heart shredded, her hopes obliterated, she turned and walked away.
Chapter 14
Cole tossed down his pen, creaked his chair back, then scowled at the digital clock ticking away the hours on the corner of his desk. One in the morning. By rights he should be oblivious to the world by now. He’d worked himself into exhaustion during that ride through the mountains, fighting off wolves and gunmen, barely surviving a deadly stampede.
But damned if he could sleep.
He dragged his hand down his unshaven face, then rubbed his stinging eyes. He’d spent the past six hours doing ranch business in an attempt to numb his mind—balancing his checkbook, filing his quarterly taxes, filling out the mountain of insurance forms that had accumulated on his desk. But not even that dull work could deaden the sting of Bethany’s betrayal or stop the hot, searing anger scorching through him when his traitorous mind wandered to her.
He shoved thoughts of Bethany aside. She was gone. It was over. He refused to think about her again. He’d done
what he’d set out to do and had saved his ranch. That was all that mattered to him.
The clock ticked off another minute, and he shot it another scowl. There was no reason for this insomnia. He’d delivered the cattle. He’d made enough money to operate the ranch for another year. He’d lost his foreman and ranch hands, and he couldn’t buy Del’s land, but at least that secret society hadn’t defeated him yet.
But damn… He’d known Kenny Greene since high school. They’d worked together for years. And Rusty… A hollow feeling gouged his chest. He’d never expected him to betray his trust. Or Bethany…
He shoved himself away from the desk with a growl. Determined to forget her, he strode from the study to the great room, then beelined straight to the bar.
The huge, vaulted room was draped in darkness. His father sat in an armchair by the fireplace, watching the flickering flat-screen television with the sound muted. He looked up, then lumbered to his feet as Cole took out a bottle of Scotch and poured himself a drink.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked, joining him at the bar.
Cole knocked back a slug of scotch, felt the fiery burn sear his gut. “I’m not used to the quiet, I guess.”
“Sorry about that. I guess I’ve caused a ruckus the last few weeks.”
He shrugged and refilled his glass. “I’ll adjust.” He always did. He’d bury himself in his ranch work and concentrate on what mattered most—his land.
His father topped off his own glass with his favorite Maker’s Mark whiskey, then paused. “Listen, Cole. I know it’s not my place to say anything, but about that woman, Bethany…”
Cole flinched. “There’s nothing to say.”
“I think there is.” He paused. “I’d like to give you some advice.”
“Advice? From you?” Cole snorted in disbelief. “After all those mistresses?”
His father winced. “I’ve been a bad example, I know. Your mother…she didn’t deserve what I did.”
“You got that right.” He slopped more Scotch in his glass, then gulped it down with a hiss.
“I just don’t want you to make my mistakes.”
