"I know." Becca looked down at her hands, clenched together in her lap.
"Anyone else?"
When she didn't answer, Dev shifted closer. "You told me you and Farrell had grown up together. Any unfinished business there?"
She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. "Grady wasn't the prowler, Sheriff. I'm certain of that."
Dev studied her for a moment, then nodded. "All right. Anyone else?"
What should she do? Should she mention Ron? What if she was wrong? He'd have even more reason to hate her.
What if she was right?
"There is one person who works for Grady," she said slowly. "I've met him before, and he doesn't seem to like me. But I have no idea why he would be prowling around my house or my clinic."
"That's my job to find out," Dev said. "What's his name?"
She hesitated, then said, "If you go telling him that I accused him of prowling around my house, he's not going to like it. And I have to deal with him when I go out to the ranch."
Dev leaned back in his chair and smiled at her. "Give me a little credit, Doc. When I question him, he won't know who made the complaint or what he's supposed to have done. Believe me, he won't connect you with it. Unless he's the guilty party." The smile disappeared. "Then he'll have plenty to worry about."
He closed his notebook after she gave him Ron's name, then stood up. "I'll have the deputies drive by every half hour or so tonight," he said. "Try to get some sleep. I doubt if your prowler will be back tonight. We probably scared him into the next county."
She doubted it. The person she'd spotted in the bushes had been too furtive, too good at blending in. He had known what he was doing. He might not be back tonight, but he hadn't been scared off.
Becca carefully locked the screen door, and she was shutting the wooden door when she heard the sheriff speak.
"What are you doing here?" he said, and Becca heard the suspicion in his voice.
"I was driving by and saw the sheriff's cars. I wanted to make sure Becca was all right." It was Grady's voice, and Becca had to stop herself from running out the door to him.
But as she listened, the silence was heavy with a suspicion Becca could hear even from inside the house. Finally Dev said, "You seem to make a habit of showing up just when Doc Johnson has had a prowler. I find that interesting, Farrell."
"Is that what happened? Another prowler?" Becca heard the concern in Grady's voice. "Is she all right?"
"She's fine." Dev shuffled his feet "You want to tell me where you've been for the last hour?"
"I was having dinner at the restaurant in town, Heaven on Seventh."
"I'll check with Janie about that."
"Who the hell is Janie?"
Becca heard the slap of Dev's notebook as he shut it. "She's the owner of Heaven. She'll have noticed you. If you were there."
"I was there."
"Don't worry, I'll check." As the sheriff strolled down the driveway, Becca heard him say to his deputy, "Ben, make sure all units know to roll past the doc's house every half hour or so." Becca realized that he'd made sure he said it loud enough so Grady could hear him, and she relaxed. She knew Grady wasn't the prowler, but she was glad Dev was taking the situation seriously enough to suspect him.
Becca thought Cameron was fortunate to have Dev as sheriff. He'd grown up in Cameron, but had spent time in the military, then had come back home to run against the old sheriff and won the job. Underneath his easygoing exterior was an intensity she found unsettling, but she intuitively knew he was good at his job.
"Becca?" Grady stood at the screen door, and she opened it to admit him. "Are you all right?"
She resisted the impulse to throw herself into his arms. "I'm fine. Just a little shaken up."
"What happened?"
She repeated the story she'd told Dev and his deputy, glancing into the yard as she spoke. The shadows were just as dark, but there was no one hiding in them. The prowler was gone for the night, and slowly she began to relax.
"Who the hell could it be?"
"I have no idea. The sheriff asked me if it could be Sy Ames."
Grady's mouth tightened. "I'll kill the bastard if he's threatening you."
Something inside her warmed at Grady's instinctive words. "Sy is long gone," she said. "No one's seen him around since the day he was at my clinic. Where would he stay? He doesn't have a house here anymore."
"You don't know him," Grady warned.
"I know him as well as you do."
"I doubt that. But if Sy's really gone, who else could be harassing you?"
"I gave them another name," she said slowly. She didn't want to tell him about Ron, but Dev was sure to question the ranch manager. Grady would find out sooner or later.
"Who's that?"
"Ron Perkins."
Grady's face darkened. "Ron! Why would you think he's responsible?"
"You haven't noticed the way he looks at me when I'm at the Flying W," she said quietly. "He doesn't like me. In fact, I think he hates me."
"That's ridiculous. Why would he care about you one way or another?"
She couldn't tell him that, at least not yet. "He's the only new person in town," she countered.
"Besides me." Grady's mouth was a grim slash of anger on his face.
"I told Dev that you weren't the prowler. I never thought it was you, not even for a minute. Do you think I would have let you into the clinic that night if I had even a smidgen of suspicion that it was you at my back door?"
Grady's face softened a little. "Thank you, Becca. But I don't know why you've focused on Ron. I'll ask him what's going on in the morning."
"No!" Becca heard the panic in her voice and tried to steady herself. "Don't say a word to him. Dev already promised me that if he questioned Ron, he wouldn't tell Ron who was involved. Maybe Ron has an alibi and we won't have to worry about it at all."
"I've known Ron for almost twelve years. I trust him completely. He isn't the kind of man who would prowl around a woman s house or her place of business. That wouldn't make any sense to me at all."
"I hope you're right." She turned around vaguely and waved at the stove. "Would you like a cup of tea, or some coffee?"
Grady studied her, then shook his head. "You look completely beat. Why don't you just go up to bed? I only stopped because I saw the sheriff's cars and wanted to make sure you were all right."
"Thank you for that, Grady." She paused, then turned to face him. "I'm glad you're here. It makes me feel safer."
He reached out and trailed a finger down her cheek, then let his hand drop. "Want me to sleep on the couch tonight?"
Her face heating from his touch, for one horrifying minute she was tempted to tell him yes. But she pictured Cassie discovering him there in the morning and shook her head. "Thanks, but we'll be fine. You heard that the sheriff is going to have the deputies patrol the neighborhood tonight. And now that my prowler has been scared away by the police, I doubt if he'll be back."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive," she said firmly. "You have responsibilities at the ranch. You're needed there."
"Are you going to be able to sleep?" he asked quietly.
"I'm exhausted." She chose her words carefully. "I was tired before I saw the prowler."
"But are you going to be able to sleep?"
In spite of herself, a weary smile crept across her face. "You raise the meaning of persistence to a whole new level, Grady. You know that, don't you?"
He didn't bother to answer. Rummaging through her cupboards, he found her herbal tea and pulled out the container. He flipped through it until he found the packet he wanted.
"Let's get some of this into you. That should help you sleep."
To her surprise, he'd chosen chamomile, which always relaxed her. "How did you know that type of tea would help me sleep?"
"I've used plenty of this stuff in my time," he said as he heated water.
"Don't let the other cowboys know you drink herbal tea
," she teased.
His hands stilled on the teakettle. "There was a time when I had trouble sleeping. This helped."
"When was that, Grady?" she asked in a soft voice. "A long time ago." His voice said the subject was closed. He stood by the stove, his back to her, as he waited for the kettle to whistle. As soon as it boiled, he poured the water over the tea bag and slid the cup in front of her.
He hesitated, then sat in the chair across from her. Looking around the kitchen, he said, "I like your house."
It was a clear sign that the subject of when he'd needed tea to sleep was closed. She forced herself to nod lightly. "I like it, too. I wanted a place of my own. And it's nice to have a yard for Cassie, and a place for a garden."
That reminded her of what had been in her garden earlier that night, and her hand tightened on her mug. Grady slid his hand over hers. "I'll keep an eye on Ron, if that would make you feel better. Keep track of his comings and goings."
She studied him. "But you don't think it's necessary."
"No, I don't. But I'll do it if it makes you feel better."
Slowly she shook her head. "Don't bother. You can't watch him twenty-four hours a day, and it'll just strain your relationship. But thanks for offering."
She sipped her tea and sat in the silence of the kitchen, grateful for his company. Gradually she felt herself relaxing, and was surprised to realize that she could fall asleep
"Your tea seems to have done the trick," she said. "Thanks for suggesting it. I think I can actually fall asleep." For a treacherous minute she thought about how things might have been different, if it weren't for that wretched lie nine years ago. She and Grady might be going up to bed together, tucking their children into bed together.
"I'm glad it helped," he said, standing up. "I'll see you Saturday."
Saturday. With everything that had happened tonight, she had forgotten they had a date in a few days. She had forgotten what she'd planned to tell him.
"I'll see you then," she agreed.
"Mommy, who is that man?" The voice came from the kitchen door, and slowly she turned around to see Cassie standing in the doorway, clutching her blanket and staring at Grady.
And Grady staring back at her.
* * *
Chapter 9
«^»
Grady stared at the child, taking in her dark hair hanging in messy braids and her intense blue eyes. She looked familiar, as if he'd seen her before, but he knew that was impossible.
She waited, watching him carefully. Forcing himself to smile, he said, "I'm Grady Farrell, a friend of your mom's."
From behind him Becca said, "Mr. Farrell owns the Flying W, honey. But he's leaving and you need to go back to bed." Her voice was ragged, and Grady wondered why.
The child's face lit from the inside. "That's where Pete lives."
"Pete?" Grady turned to look at Becca.
Her face was sheet white. "A paint pony Cassie saw when she was out there with me. Tucker was training him in a corral, and Cassie took a fancy to him."
Grady turned back to the child. "You like horses?" he asked softly.
She nodded vigorously. "When I get older, I'm going to get a job at my mom's clinic. I'll earn enough money so that I can get my own horse. Then I can be in the rodeo."
"Cassie, that's enough," Becca said sharply behind him. "Go on back to bed."
The child turned obediently to go. But before she did, she looked at Grady one more time and gave him a huge grin. "I like your horses, Mr. Farrell." Then she scampered up the stairs and disappeared.
Again Grady was struck with the feeling that he'd seen this child before. As he turned around to face Becca again, he saw the shock in her eyes and the trembling hands she tried to hide.
"I'm sorry," she managed to say. "Normally she sleeps like the dead. All the noise tonight must have disturbed her."
"Why are you sorry? She didn't bother me."
"You were just leaving, and she interrupted."
"It's not a big deal," he said, wondering why she was so upset. He thought of Cassie again, of the huge grin on her face, and suddenly remembered where he had seen that face before. It was a picture of him with his mother when he was eight or nine. Cassie could have been the child in that picture.
It was as if someone had kicked him in the chest and driven all the breath out of his body. Shock held him immobile, but his head reeled as if he had fallen into a huge chasm and was tumbling head over heels.
And the answer to his question was staring back at him from Becca's white, numb face.
"She's mine, isn't she?" he whispered.
Slowly Becca nodded, her lips trembling and her eyes wide and dark. "Yes."
It stabbed into him then, twisting in his heart, the pain that had haunted him for nine long years. "Why, Becca? Why didn't you tell me? Why did you tell me to get lost when you knew you were pregnant with my child?"
"I didn't know," she whispered. "That last time I talked to you on the phone, I had no idea I was pregnant."
"There wasn't someone else, was there?"
She shook her head. "It was a lie, Grady, a stupid, foolish lie."
"Why?" he asked again.
"I wanted you to come home." Her fingers gripped the sides of her jeans, pleating the fabric with her fingers. "I thought if I told you there was someone else, you would come running home to me."
"Why didn't you just ask me to come home?"
"I'd asked before. Would it have done any good to ask again?"
He opened his mouth to tell her of course he would have come home, then closed it again. He remembered too many times when Becca had asked him to come home and he'd brushed her off, telling her about the important stop in the rodeo circuit that was coming up soon. But he thought again of the child sleeping upstairs, and dismissed his guilt. Becca had much more to answer for than he did.
"When is her birthday?" The words came out with a rush of pain. He didn't even know how old his own daughter was.
"She's just turned eight," Becca said in a low voice. "Her birthday was May 15th."
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked again, his voice harsh. "Didn't you think I had a right to know?"
"I tried to tell you," she answered, and suddenly her voice was weary. "I called everywhere. I even went to a couple of rodeos. No one knew where you were or where I could find you."
"You didn't try very hard," he retorted. "I wasn't hiding. The rodeo schedule is pretty easy to find."
"I didn't have a lot of money," she said, her voice so low he could barely hear her. "I did the best I could."
He squashed the guilt that swept over him. It didn't matter what her life had been like nine years ago, he told himself. She'd had plenty of time to tell him since he came to Cameron. "What about the last couple of weeks? Why didn't you tell me then?"
At that she looked up at him, her eyes fierce. "Now I have Cassie to consider. I had to make sure I was doing the right thing by telling you. No matter what happens, she's not going to get hurt."
"Are you saying you think I would hurt my own child?" he asked, incredulous.
"Not intentionally. But I didn't know how you would react to learning you were a father. I know you don't want to be tied down. I know you want to travel light. Being a father means that you're tied down. And once you have a child, there's no such thing as traveling light."
"I take my responsibilities seriously, Becca. I always have."
"I know that, but she's not going to be someone's 'responsibility.' She will never feel like she has to apologize for being alive," she answered fiercely. "That's why I didn't tell you right away. I wanted to get to know you a little, to judge how you would react to the news."
It felt as if a giant hand reached into his chest and ripped out his heart. "Is that why you kissed me, Becca? Is that why we almost made love, more than once? Was that a test of some sort?"
"What happened between us has nothing to do with Cassie." She moistened her lips and looked away. "If I had been th
inking of Cassie, it never would have happened."
"Just when were you planning on telling me?" he asked, taking a step closer to her.
She swallowed but didn't back up. "I'm sure that you won't believe me, but I was planning on telling you Saturday."
"Right. We'd be sitting at dinner in Heaven on Seventh and you'd say, casually, 'By the way, Grady, you know my daughter, Cassie? She's your daughter, too.' I'm not sure I buy that."
"I wasn't planning on telling you in a crowded restaurant." Her voice sounded weary. "I thought we could go and park somewhere out of town, where no one would see or hear us."
"Were you going to soften me up with a little sex first?" He watched her flinch at his crude words and rushed on before his anger could dissipate. "Because if we parked off the road somewhere, that's exactly what would happen and you damn well know it."
"This hasn't been easy for me, Grady," she said, and he didn't want to hear the pain in her voice. "But I had to do what was best for Cassie. This isn't just about you and me. There's an innocent child involved, and I have to think of her first. Yes, you had a right to know. But I couldn't find you when I was pregnant with Cassie, and now she's old enough to understand what's going on. Nothing or no one on earth could persuade me to do anything that would hurt her. And that includes you."
He stood watching her. The shocked look had disappeared from her face, leaving her looking tired and vulnerable. And still fiercely protective of her child.
Their child.
Something moved inside him, a tenderness he wasn't ready to acknowledge. He pushed it away without a second thought.
"So where do we go from here?" he asked.
Becca shrugged her shoulders slightly and looked away from him. "I have no idea. I guess it depends on what you want. How do you feel about being a father?"
"How the hell should I know? It's not like I've had a long time to get used to the idea."
"Take all the time you need. We're not going anywhere."
"What do you want, Becca?"
"Every child deserves a father," she said, her voice low. "And every father deserves a chance to know his children." She looked up at him, her eyes flashing. "But if you decide you want to be part of her life, you're making a commitment for the rest of her life. I won't have you getting close to her, then deciding that you don't want to stick around. I won't let her be hurt like that."
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