by Lori Wilde
Humidity hung heavy in the barn’s dank interior. Savannah wiped a fine film of perspiration from her brow. Cody
lay sleeping in the papoose board tied to her back.
Even with Clem and Ginger’s help, taking inventory of the supplies had devoured most of the morning. After breakfast, Savannah had sent Julio to move the remaining Santa Gertrudis herd from the back pasture to the front acreage next to the house. Savannah wasn’t taking any more chances. She wanted the cattle close so she could personally keep an eye on them.
“How much longer?” Ginger complained, wrinkling her nose. “It stinks in here.”
“Whining doesn’t help matters,” Savannah said matter- of-factly.
At age twenty, and six years Savannah’s junior, Ginger sometimes acted much younger. Savannah supposed it was her own fault. She’d spoiled the girl after their mother’s death. She’d tried to give her sister all the advantages she never had. Like two years of college and an expensive, formal wedding.
“Well, I’m glad Todd isn’t a rancher,” Ginger replied. “I can’t wait to move to Abilene. I always said I’d marry a man who made a living with his brain and not his brawn.”
“Todd is a hard worker,” Savannah agreed. Her future brother-in-law had already made a reputation for himself in insurance sales, and he was only twenty-five.
“He says I don’t even have to work after we get married if I don’t want to.” Her sister was employed as a secretary at the same insurance firm where Todd worked. “I can’t wait to start having babies,” Ginger said, patting her flat tummy for emphasis.
“Cody and I are going to miss you, sis.”
“Oh, Vannah, it’s not you I want to leave,” Ginger said contritely. She gave her sister a hug. “I’m going to miss you, too.”
“You’ll be too busy getting settled to even think about me. Besides, Abilene’s not at the end of the world.”
“You’re the greatest sister anyone could hope for.”
“I love you.” Tears collected at the comer of Savannah’s eyes. It was difficult to accept Ginger as grown and married. The rambling farmhouse would be lonelier with her gone.
“Miss Savannah, as far as I can tell nothing’s missing,” Clem interrupted. He climbed down off the stepladder and dusted his hands on the seat of his overalls.
Matt would be disappointed. He’d been so sure the thieves had taken equipment along with the Gerts. At the thought of Matt, she frowned and glanced at her wrist- watch. It was almost noon.
She’d expected him before now. Maybe he’d found her cattle in San Antonio. That would be a relief. She wanted this thing wrapped up, her livestock returned and Matt Forrester eliminated from her life for good.
‘ ‘What about that shotgun Gary used to keep in here for rattlesnakes? Is it missing?” she asked Clem.
“Nope. It’s mounted on the wall behind the door.” Clem nodded.
“I’m going to go start lunch,” Ginger said. “You want me to take Cody?”
“Please.” Savannah untied the papoose board straps from around her middle. “He’s getting too heavy for this. My back is killing me.”
Cody whimpered during the transfer, then Ginger carried him into the house.
Savannah groaned, stretched. The sound of a vehicle turning into the driveway drew her attention. She stepped through the open bam door and caught sight of the cherry red Jeep. Speak of the devil.
She watched Matt unfurl his long body from the front seat of the vehicle and walk across the yard. His silhouette ignited a flame of sultry heaviness in the pit of her stomach. She yearned to launch herself into his embrace, feel his grip tighten around her in that possessive manner of his. She wanted to pull him down in a haystack and kiss him long, slow and sweet just like they had that very first time on his uncle’s farm so long ago.
She still remembered the stars twinkling above, the straw caught in his hair, his hardy masculine smell tantalizing her nose, a combination of leather, earth and sunshine. Even now a shaft of desire cut through her so intense it took her breath away.
“Dang,” Savannah mumbled under her breath as their gazes met, and held. He was one fine hunk of man. Tall, well-built, rugged. A man you could count on to save your life in a pinch.
A breeze lifted a lock of his coal black hair, giving him a rakish look. Her heart thudded faster as he stepped closer. That damned kiss he’d given her yesterday had kept her awake half the night.
And then she saw his eyes harden, his mouth turn grim as he assessed her. She raised a hand to her throat, suddenly aware of her disheveled appearance. Her hair drooped limply from its ponytail; the threads from her cutoff jeans hung like tattered flags down her legs; her T-shirt was stained with grease and bam grime.
Taking a deep breath, she clasped her elbows in her palms and waited for him to speak.
“Afternoon, Savannah.” He nodded curtly.
“Matt.”
His hesitant movements suggested he felt as awkward as she did.
“How was San Antonio?”
“Informative.”
“You didn’t happen to find my cattle, did you?” The air between them fairly shimmered with tension, like a rubber band stretched to the snapping point.
“No. Did you inventory your supplies?”
“Nothing was missing, least not as far as I can tell. But Gary might have bought some items neither Clem or I knew anything about.”
“Did Gary keep good records on his ranching transactions?” Matt shifted his weight, hooked a finger through his belt loop.
“Of course.”
“Could you make those records available to me?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
“Routine procedure.”
“What do you think you’ll find?”
“Won’t know till I find it.”
His evasiveness bothered her. She had a bad feeling about his request. What was he hiding? “I see no reason to give you Gary’s personal records.”
“You don’t have a choice, Savannah.”
“I don’t understand what Gary’s papers have to do with my cattle being stolen.”
“I need them to verify ownership, and the value of the cattle.”
Matt pursed his lips. He couldn’t tell her he suspected her theft had nothing to do with the other five, that it was a copycat crime perpetrated by persons unknown.
The trip to San Antonio had paid off. He’d found the man wearing Cal Hickey’s belt buckle sleeping off a bender in the local drunk tank. For the favor of being bailed out of jail, he’d been very willing to talk. The fellow said he’d purchased the buckle off four men in Abilene. He claimed they’d boasted about stealing cattle and equipment, yet their modus operandi did not match the pattern of the robbery at the Circle B.
A clearer picture emerged. The thieves generally grabbed just a few head of cattle grazing in a pasture by the roadside and took all the equipment that wasn’t locked up. So why hadn’t the thieves taken any of Savannah’s supplies? He needed Gary Markum’s records to ascertain that nothing but the Santa Gertrudis herd had been stolen, and he needed proof of the herd’s existence, purchase orders, veterinary records, branding accounts, anything that might be helpful in tracking the thieves.
The back door creaked open and Ginger stepped out onto the porch, shading her eyes against the sun. “You staying for lunch, Matt?”
He was about to refuse when he saw Savannah shake her head and lance her sister a dirty look. He grinned. Evidently Mrs. Markum didn’t relish his company.
“We’re having fried chicken,” Ginger tempted.
“That’s my favorite. I’d love to stay, Ginger, thank you for the invitation.” He smirked at Savannah.
Her frown deepened. “Great,” she muttered and marched into the house ahead of him.
Matt chuckled. He liked being a burr under her saddle. Paybacks were hell.
The delicious aroma of frying chicken filled the large farmhouse kitchen.
Ginger stood at
the stove, an apron tied around her waist, a pair of tongs cocked in one hand. Cody sat in the middle of the floor, banging on an overturned pan with a wooden spoon. The sight of the little shaver twisted a knife of longing deep in Matt’s chest. He’d lost so much to stubbornness and false pride.
He and Savannah had once shared a bushel of dreams, dreams now scattered, blown to the wind like dandelion seeds. Why in the Sam Hill did he torture himself like this? Wishing, hoping, yearning for a past that could never be repeated.
“I’m going to wash up,” Savannah announced.
“Where’s the bathroom?” Matt asked. “I could do with a rinse off myself.’ ’
“This way.” She inclined her head, her shoulders held stiff.
He followed her to the back of the house. His eyes devoured the sight of her rounded bottom encased so enticingly in those ragged cutoffs, the firm muscles in her long, slender legs flexing as she walked.
The shock of desire racing through his body stunned him like the charge from a cattle prod. After all this time his passion for her hadn’t diminished one whit. In fact his hankering for her had blossomed, grown with each passing year. More than anything he wanted to drag Savannah to the floor and make love to her right there until they created a baby of their own as fine and handsome as Cody Markum.
“In there,” she said gruffly, kicking the bathroom door open with the toe of her battered sneaker.
“What?” he said in mock surprise. “You’re not going to wash up with me?”
She glowered at him. “Not funny, Forrester.”
He shut the door behind him and turned on the water faucet, remembering a time when Savannah would have been damned eager to keep him company in the bath. One particular incident rose to mind—the eve of his twenty- seventh birthday, just weeks before their breakup. The very night he’d asked her to be his wife.
Sucking in a breath through clenched teeth, Matt splashed cold water on his face, attempting to chase away the haunting memory. Savannah and his friends had thrown him a party at the lake, and it was past midnight by the time they’d made it back to his apartment, damp and covered in sand, but kissing with unequaled fervency.
“Let’s shower together,” she’d whispered, tempting him beyond endurance by running a hand under his shirt and strumming his pebble-hard nipples.
Matt had almost made love to her that night. But despite his overheated passion, he’d managed to put on the brakes just in time. Much as he loved her, they’d had no protection, and he wasn’t willing to risk an unplanned pregnancy, not while he was waiting to be accepted into detective’s training. Besides, he’d wanted to wait until their wedding night to finally consummate their love. As it turned out, he should have taken her then and there. If only he’d known it would be the last chance he’d ever have to experience the most intimate details of her glorious body.
A sharp knock at the door broke his reverie.
“Are you setting up camp in there, Forrester?” Savannah demanded.
“Just a minute.”
Matt reached for a hand towel, then mopped his face. Merely thinking about Savannah and that precious moment caused him to stiffen below the belt. He stared at himself in the mirror. How had something so right ended so wrong?
He stepped out of the bathroom to find her tapping her toe impatiently. She brushed by him and slammed the door behind her. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one reliving volatile memories, Matt mused.
“Matt,” Ginger called to him as he returned to the kitchen. “Would you mind holding Cody? He keeps getting under my feet and I’m scared I’ll trip over him with a hot pan of grease or something.”
“No problem.” Matt smiled. He bent to scoop up the baby, who beamed and offered him a soggy cookie. “Hey there, big fella.”
“Da!” Cody exclaimed.
“He calls everybody Da,” Ginger explained. “Even Savannah.”
Matt cradled the squirming baby in the crook of his arm, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of sentiment and emotion rolling through him. Cody smelled fresh, clean, like baby powder and sunshine. His hair stuck straight up on his head, a fuzzy brown halo.
“You look natural with a baby, Matt.”
“What are you up to, Ginger?” Matt chided. “Don’t be getting any crazy ideas.”
Ginger shrugged. “She’s still carrying a torch for you.” “Who? Savannah?” He snorted. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Don’t act like a big dumb ape. Of course, Savannah.” “Yeah, right. She cared about me so much she rushed right out and married Gary Markum.”
Ginger arched an eyebrow at him. “There’s more to that story than you know.”
“Oh.” Matt leaned forward. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Ginger whispered, “Savannah didn’t have much of a choice.”
“Ginger!” Savannah barked as she came into the room. “Don’t bum the chicken.”
Matt glanced at Savannah, noticing she’d changed into a pair of gray slacks and a white cotton blouse. A streak of red adorned her lips. Had she put on makeup for his benefit? His heart galloped like a racehorse on Derby day. Was it true? Did Savannah still have feelings for him? The possibility tightened his gut with hope.
Savannah held out her arms toward Matt. “Give me the baby,” she said. Matt relinquished his hold on the child, his gaze searching Savannah’s face. She purposefully kept her eyes trained on Cody.
“Lunch is ready,” Ginger said, dishing up the chicken. “You guys go ahead and start, I’ll ring the dinner bell for Clem and Julio.”
“Ah, yes,” Matt said, “the elusive Mr. Diaz.”
“Make yourself useful, Forrester, set the table.” Savannah settled Cody into his high chair and handed him a drumstick to gnaw on. “Plates are in the first cabinet on the left, silverware in the top drawer on your right.”
“Running a ranch has given you a bossy streak, Savy,” he drawled, collecting the utensils.
“No,” she replied coldly. “Growing up has made me assertive. I’m no longer the sweet little pushover you used to bulldoze so well.”
“Charming analogy.”
From her peripheral vision, she watched Matt set the table. Surprisingly, he looked quite comfortable taking care of domestic chores. She wouldn’t have thought it of him, considering his macho image. Five years ago, the man would have scoffed at the idea of doing woman’s work. Obviously, she wasn’t the only one who had changed.
Savannah set the platter of chicken on the table, followed it with a boat of cream gravy, mashed potatoes and garden-fresh green beans. She lifted a pan of com bread from the oven as Ginger came inside.
“Clem’s coming, but I didn’t see Julio,” Ginger announced.
“Let’s not wait for Julio, he’ll be here soon.” Savannah wanted the meal over and Matt Forrester out of her house.
“So what’s this I hear about you getting married?” Matt asked Ginger once they were seated around the kitchen table.
Ginger blushed. “Yep. May twenty-sixth.”
“That’s only two weeks away!”
“Savannah’s making my dress,” Ginger chattered. “It’s gorgeous.”
Matt raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you could sew, Savy.”
She wished he’d stop calling her that, it brought back too many painful memories. “I can do a lot of things you don’t know about, Matt.”
“I don’t doubt that.”
Clem wandered in, washed his hands at the sink and slipped into his place at the table without speaking. Savannah noticed he kept darting uneasy glances in Matt’s direction.
“So who’s the lucky fella, Ginger?” Matt asked, unfolding a napkin in his lap.
“Todd Baxter.” She grinned.
“He’s my insurance agent.” Matt nodded. “A hard worker. I like him a lot.”
Savannah watched the exchange between her sister and her former fiance without comment. The two had always been close. Ginger saw Matt as an older-brother figure. Ginger had never und
erstood the rift separating Savannah and Matt.
“Can you come to the wedding, Matt? I’d love to have you there,” Ginger invited.
“I appreciate the invitation, Ginger, but I can’t make any promises. A detective’s schedule can be unpredictable.”
“I bet it’s an exciting job, though.” Ginger’s eyes glowed.
“More boring than you’d think. Lots of paperwork and twelve-hour days.”
“Have you ever been in a shoot-out?”
Matt chuckled. “A time or two.”
Savannah grimaced at the thought of Matt’s dangerous job. His desire to be a lawman had been one more brick in the wall separating them. When she tried to talk him into pursuing a safer career, he’d accused her of being possessive, and it was true. She hadn’t wanted to share him with anyone, not the citizens of Nolan County, or the criminals.
Matt had asked her to marry him, yes, but he’d also asked her to wait for him to complete his extensive training. She hated the thought of his job, knowing he could be killed any day, any minute, any hour. And then he’d actually gotten shot during that awful altercation at Kelly’s bar. Ironic, she’d wound up a widow anyway. It seemed the men in her life were determined to leave her one way or the other. Just like Pop.
After years of cheating on their mother, her father had abandoned the family when Savannah was eleven and Ginger only five. He’d disappeared two days after their mother was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. It had been a relief, actually, when he’d left, a welcomed respite from her parents’ constant shouting matches.
Savannah had been ashamed of her mother for tolerating her father’s philandering ways. When they’d discussed the matter in later years, her mother had told Savannah she couldn’t possibly understand, that her love for Savannah’s father had been so strong she’d put up with anything to be near him.
Not Savannah. Her pride and self-respect prevented her from debasing herself for any man, and that included Matt Forrester. Her refusal to accept a disloyal mate had been one part of the reason she agreed to marry true-blue Gary.
