by Cassie Miles
“When I have everything completed, yes.”
Leaving the portfolio open on the coffee table, she thumbed through page after page, amazed by her great-aunt’s output. “There’s a lot in here.”
“Michelle was prolific.”
Gabby stopped on a page that had information about the painting but no photograph. “Why isn’t there a picture?”
Osborne toyed with his necklace and licked his lips. “Michelle told me about these paintings, but I never saw them.”
Zach asked, “How do you know they exist?”
“Read the descriptions,” he said. “They’re very specific, and she wanted a record.”
When she leaned forward to read, Zach did the same, moving closer so he could see the page. His thigh brushed against hers. The rough fabric of his jeans rubbed against her skirt and the bare skin above her knee.
With an effort, she concentrated on the written description. Her voice was only a little bit breathless when she said, “This painting is titled Tarot Arcana VI. It’s only three inches by five—a little bit larger than a playing card.”
“I never saw these last five Tarot paintings, numbered VI to X.” Osborne scowled at the book. “It’s a shame. She did others in the series, and they’ve acquired a reputation. I know at least three collectors who would bid on these paintings.”
“But you haven’t seen them,” Zach said.
“If I had, I would have insisted on bringing them here. I have a secure storage area, temperature controlled with no windows. That’s where I’m holding the rest of Michelle’s paintings.”
“The ones you took from her studio,” Gabby said. “That was probably a good idea.”
“It was necessary. You’ve already had a break-in at the Roost. I shudder to think what might have been stolen.” He untangled his legs and got to his feet. “Are we done here?”
“For now, we are.” Gabby dug in to her fake Birkin and took out her cell phone. “I have to call to see if my car’s ready.”
When she turned the phone on, she saw that she had four messages, which she checked, figuring that the car mechanic might have already called. The last name on the message list surprised her. It was Daniel Rousseau. Her brother had finally gotten in touch with her.
* * *
DRIVING BACK TOWARD home, Zach kept his eyes trained straight ahead through the windshield, staring at the beginning of sunset and trying not to listen to Gabby’s phone conversation with her brother. She was hard to ignore. In the space of five minutes, she’d gone from squeals of laughter to a furious tirade.
He didn’t want to be distracted by her family issues when they had more pressing problems, mainly the break-ins at the Roost. That threat was tangible but didn’t worry him as much as the unspoken danger he’d felt when they talked to Fox or at their meeting with Osborne. It was clear to Zach that Michelle’s estate represented a significant amount of money, and these men wanted to stake their claim.
First, he had to deal with the break-ins. The best way to make sure Gabby and Charlotte were safe was for him to stay overnight at the Roost as a bodyguard. But that solution had dangers of its own; sleeping down the hall from Gabby put him in a precarious position. He couldn’t deny that he was attracted to her. Just the thought of her stretched out in her bed started his imagination rolling. What if she heard a sound and called for him, and he responded by running into her bedroom, and she threw her arms around his neck, and he kissed away her fears?
He shouldn’t even think about making love to her. They were different people from different worlds, opposite ends of the spectrum. Even if she ended up spending three years at the Roost to fulfill the terms of the will, she’d still be a city girl who hated horses. The idea of them having a relationship was like thinking a coyote might cozy up to a jackrabbit without anybody getting hurt.
“No way, Daniel.” She held the phone in front of her face and yelled at it. “I’m not giving you my credit card number. You need to be here. Figure out how to do it by yourself.”
When she ended the call, she let go with a curse, one of the few he’d heard from her. Her cheeks flamed bright red as she glanced over at him. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I love my brother.”
“I can tell.”
“Here’s the part that really makes me mad. He didn’t call me because of the ten million messages I’ve left for him with people who might have been able to find him. He knew I was looking for him, but did he care? No way.”
“Why did he call?”
“He had a message from Fox that said the magic word—inheritance. Daniel called me because he thought he could get something for nothing.”
“Did Fox tell him the terms?”
“Daniel doesn’t care. He told me to take care of the details. Can you believe it? ‘Deal with it, Gabby.’ And then I should send him his money. Does that sound fair to you?”
“Nope.”
She continued, “I don’t know why I should expect him to be different. Family means nothing to him. He wasn’t there when Aunt Rene died, and he doesn’t even remember Michelle’s name. All he wants is to grab the money and run.”
That description sounded much like Zach’s first opinion about Gabby, but he’d come to understand there was more to her. Instead of being solely motivated by greed, she was curious about Michelle and had regrets that they hadn’t known each other better. “Is your brother coming here?”
“I hope so.” Her gaze dropped to the phone in her lap. “I haven’t seen him in years.”
“Why’s that?”
“He took off with some girl. Then he was in Alaska. Then something else, there was always something else.”
Zach was familiar with the pattern. When he first left home, he’d done his share of aimless drifting until he discovered rodeo. For a long time, his family had been the other bronc busters and bull riders.
“We used to be so close,” she said. “After my parents died, he sat at the foot of my bed every night until I fell asleep. If he hadn’t been there with me, I might never have stopped crying. It was silly, really. I was thirteen and shouldn’t have been such a baby.”
“It’s not childish to miss the people you love.”
“I still miss them, especially my mom.” She lifted her head. Though she smiled, her dark eyes reflected a deep sadness. “Today has been tough.”
“Yep.” He knew she hated his one-word responses, but he didn’t have anything to add. Leaving his parents was one of the smartest things he’d ever done.
“But it’s not all doom and gloom.” She forced a smile. “The mechanic said the repairs to my car won’t be expensive. He has to send to Denver for a part and will keep the car for a couple of days, but it’s fixable and cheap.”
He liked the way she always found a way to focus on the positive. With what he’d seen today, she was going to need that attitude. “We should talk about Osborne.”
“He’s a strange one. Under the weird clothes and ponytail, he seems to be a sharp businessman. I guess we shouldn’t be surprised. After all, Michelle was no fool, and she stuck with Osborne for over twenty years.”
“Those missing Tarot paintings worry me,” Zach said.
“Me, too. According to Osborne, there are buyers lined up for those pictures. They’re valuable. And they’re small enough to hide in the Roost. Those Tarot paintings could be the real hidden treasure and the real reason for the break-ins.”
“That means the threat is real.” Hidden artwork made more sense than the mythical Frenchman’s Treasure, but Michelle’s little paintings weren’t something that could be easily turned into cash. “There aren’t many people who’d know what to do with the art, even if they found it.”
“Osborne would,” she said. “He even knows the buyers. Maybe, after all these years, he’s gotten tired of making only a commission on Michelle’s work. Maybe he wants the whole enchilada for himself. And he could send his friend Striker to do the dirty business of breaking in and stealing.”
“Striker is number one on my list of suspicious persons.”
“Here’s the part I don’t understand,” she said. “If Osborne planned to steal the paintings, why did he tell us about them? Why did he record them along with all of Michelle’s other work? He could have kept those paintings a secret and sold them on his own. I’d probably never find out about it.”
“Michelle might have left a record, maybe a sketch or a note. If we discovered the discrepancy, it would have been hard for him to explain.” He had another concern. “Besides, we can’t expect rational behavior from Osborne. He’s on drugs.”
He watched for her reaction. Some people were shocked and appalled by addiction, but Gabby hadn’t led a sheltered life. She merely shrugged. “I noticed the sweating and twitching and licking of lips, but there might be another cause.”
“Such as?”
“He might be ill. Or he might be having a reaction to some kind of prescription meds.”
That was how it started. Zach knew from personal experience how those little pills made you feel better and then became more important and then took over your life. “Why are you defending him?”
“He organized all those listings. That’s the opposite of erratic behavior.”
A high-functioning addict developed skills for hiding their terrible secrets. Again, experience was Zach’s guide. “Think about it this way. A drug habit isn’t cheap. Osborne might be desperate for money, desperate enough to take risks in handling Michelle’s estate.”
When she turned toward him, he could feel her scrutiny. She was studying him, assessing him. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“Nope.”
His addiction to painkillers and to alcohol wasn’t a story he was willing to share with anyone outside his twelve-step program. Lucky for him, Rhoda had once been part of that group. If he really needed to spill his guts, she’d listen. And he’d do the same for her.
Gabby didn’t need to know. He didn’t want to see the disgust in her eyes or, even worse, the sympathy. Nine years ago, he’d hit rock bottom. Since then, he’d been sober. End of story.
“Tomorrow,” she said, “we’ll need to start searching the house. Now that we know what we’re looking for, it might be easier. And I should go through the paperwork in Michelle’s office.”
“For tonight, you and Charlotte need protection. I’ll stay at the Roost.”
It was the only way he could be sure that they were safe.
Chapter Nine
At half past nine o’clock, Gabby crawled between the sheets of her queen-size bed at the Roost. She never went to sleep this early, but she was exhausted, maybe the result of the altitude thing Zach had told her about. Being too high made your energy low.
During dinner, she’d barely been able to keep her eyes open while Zach lectured her and Charlotte about being careful and not wandering off to investigate by yourself. He was in his element, taking charge and giving orders. He’d made up a schedule for bodyguard duty. He’d patrol the house until one o’clock. Then Toby Hatch, one of his most trusted employees, would take the next shift.
When he’d introduced Toby, Gabby had managed a weak hello, but the young man barely noticed her. His attention had been riveted on Charlotte, who’d kept up her new look with a fresh coat of glitter makeup and a form-hugging purple dress from Gabby’s wardrobe. Charlotte’s look would have been far more sophisticated if she hadn’t insisted on wearing her dusty cowboy boots. Maybe tomorrow, they’d talk about footwear.
Snuggled under the quilt and blankets, Gabby tried to embrace the quiet of the rural country outside her windows, but she missed the hum of the city. So much was changing. So much had happened today.
She felt like she was standing at the brink of a major life shift and didn’t know if the people pushing her toward the edge—people like Fox and Osborne—were friends or enemies. Apart from Rhoda and Charlotte, the only person she trusted was Zach. And she was a long way away from figuring him out. He hadn’t really opened up to her. Most of the time, he treated her like an annoyance. The only constant between them seemed to be their mutual physical attraction, which just might be enough. Thinking about him, she smiled and drifted closer to sleep.
It seemed like only a few minutes later when she remembered that she hadn’t closed the shades. She groaned. The bed was too comfortable to leave, but she didn’t want to be wakened in the morning by sunrise.
She pried one eyelid open. The red digital numbers on the bedside clock showed that it was eleven-thirty. She’d already been asleep for two hours. Get up and pull the shades. Moonlight poured through the uncurtained windows. In a few short hours, that soft glow would become a thousand-watt glare.
Forcing herself to move, she leveraged into a sitting position on the bed. Then she saw him. Zach stood by the window, watching her. What?
“Yesterday,” he said, “you kissed me.”
Her brain struggled to make sense of his appearance. Should she be freaked out that he was in here? Did they need to have a little chat about boundaries? “Technically,” she said, “you’re wrong. It’s not midnight, which means it’s still today, technically.”
“Fine.” He reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on. “This morning, you kissed me.”
She threw up her hand to ward off the light. “You kissed me back.”
“I’m glad you’re awake. I was reading through the legal documents, and I think I know what Fox is up to. We need to talk.”
“Now?” She realized that she wasn’t wearing much. Her lingerie for tonight was a pale blue satin slip that draped low on her chest. With a yank, she pulled the quilt up to her chin. “You can’t just come waltzing into my room.”
“But I did.”
For once, he wasn’t wearing his hat, and his brown hair fell across his forehead. When he grinned, the fine lines at the corners of his eyes deepened. In the glow from the bedside lamp, he seemed more approachable than usual. He looked open, friendly and, of course, gorgeous.
To be honest, she didn’t mind that he’d invaded her personal space. In fact, she wanted him to come closer. “Were you spying on me?”
“I knew you were awake.”
“That’s a little weird, Zach.”
“Should I go?”
“Stay.” She flung out her arm and caught hold of the sleeve of his soft flannel shirt. When she tugged, he sat on the edge of the bed. “You’re here now. We might as well talk.”
The front of his brown plaid shirt was unbuttoned and hung open. Underneath, a white V-neck T-shirt gleamed in the lamplight. She wondered if he was still wearing his boots. Did cowboys make love with their boots on?
“The way I figure,” he said, “there are two ways Fox can make money from Michelle’s estate. The standard procedure is for him to charge his billable hours as executor. But he also gets a commission if you decide not to stay at the Roost for three years and he handles the sale of the properties with proceeds going to the Forest Preservation Society. By the way, money from the sale of paintings is considered part of the estate and also goes to Sarah Bentley.”
Though she was trying to listen, she couldn’t make sense of what he was saying. His words jumbled in her mind. As he listed dollar amounts and percentages and other facts that he’d gleaned from the folder of legal papers, she focused on his lips and remembered their first kiss.
He stopped talking. The quiet in her bedroom wrapped around them like a soft, warm blanket.
“Gabby, did you hear me?”
“Give me a quick summary.”
“If Fox can get you to move out, he’ll make several hundred thousand bucks. Do you understand what that means?”
“I should get my own lawyer?”
“You could, but Fox isn’t a fool. I’m sure all his paperwork is in order. That’s what worries me.”
“Why?” She’d been paying attention well enough to understand what he was saying, but she still didn’t follow. “If he’s following the la
w, there’s nothing I can do.”
“Fox might be behind the break-ins.” The smile was gone from Zach’s handsome face. His blue eyes had a serious cast. “He might be trying to scare you off.”
Her fingers tightened reflexively, and she clutched the blankets against her breasts. “Oh, good, another threat.”
“I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“Could have fooled me,” she said. “You creep into my bedroom in the middle of the night, wake me out of a deep sleep and tell me that my lawyer is plotting against me.”
“It’s just a theory.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” There had been enough threats for one day. “Why did you mention our kiss?”
“I’m not sure.” He looked away from her. “I might have been half-asleep.”
“You were thinking about it. I guess I’ve been thinking the same thing.” She had been wondering if it would happen again, wondering how she’d react if he took her in his arms, again. And she’d been hoping.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Gabby. You and me, we’re from different worlds.”
“Different planets,” she said. “We’re light-years apart.”
“It’s crazy to think the two of us could be together, not in any long-term kind of way.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t be...” She had intended to say friends, but that wasn’t how she felt about him. Friends didn’t kiss each other the way they had. “We can still be close.”
“Close, huh?”
She wondered if he was familiar with the idea of friends with benefits. In usual circumstances, she wasn’t the type of woman who had casual flings, but there was nothing usual about this trip to Colorado. From the first time she saw Zach, she was attracted to him. To be sure, a committed relationship would never work between two people who were so different. But there were other possibilities.
“I like you, Zach. And I appreciate everything you’re doing to help me. It goes far beyond the scope of being a good neighbor.”
“Like I told you, I cared for Michelle.” He turned his head, and his gaze met hers. “She’d want me to protect you.”
