Deadly Identity

by Lindsay McKenna

  Grumpily, Daisy muttered, “Yes, well I’m telling my handler this isn’t going to do. I’ve already got a request in to move elsewhere and they’re working on it. The next time you call, I hope to be out of this sinkhole.”

  “Are you getting to sew?” Her mother was a wonderful seamstress. She’d made clothes for her family since Rachel could remember.

  “Oh, yes, I am. You know what? I traded in my trusty Singer for a state-of-the-art Bernina sewing machine. Now, that’s a computer and I’m having to learn all the buttons and stuff like that. But I love it.”

  “You still have Grandma’s Singer, though?” Rachel asked. That old machine had been passed down lovingly, and she couldn’t think that her mother would ever part with it.

  Laughing, Daisy said, “Oh, no! I wouldn’t dream of parting with that! No, that will stay in the family and be passed on to you when I decide it’s time to leave this earth of ours.”

  A momentary sadness over that thought hit Rachel. “Mom, you’re only fifty years old. You have lots of years ahead. Look at our family—they’ve all been in their nineties when they pass on. Dad would have been, too, if not for that awful car accident.”

  “You’re right. I’m not intending to go anywhere soon.”

  Rachel smiled softly. “Good, because I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you, too. I miss Dad so much. I know we all do.” Her father had been the framework for the hardworking family. He had been a serious, conservative person with a dry sense of humor. Her mother had been the light one in comparison. Rachel had grown up in a loving family. The ache grew in her heart. She missed them so much.

  “I know you do,” Daisy said, a catch in her voice. “We all do. In a way, I’m glad he isn’t around to see what happened.”

  Pain dove into Rachel’s heart. Daisy was right, of course, but it once more reminded her that her one bad decision had scattered her family and torn the fabric of their existence apart. “I wish there was some way I could repair what I’ve done to all of you,” Rachel whispered.

  “Only when that dirt bag is dead,” Daisy reminded her grimly. “And now, he’s out running around free. Are you safe?” her mother asked.

  “I have extra police protection. How about you?”

  “Even a bloodhound couldn’t pick up a trail here.”

  Her mother laughed heartily, and Rachel joined her. She longed for the day when they could talk for longer than a few minutes once a month. It wasn’t enough, but it was better than nothing. “We’ll have to be extra watchful now that he’s on the loose,” she told her mother.

  “My handler said they’ve got a team searching for him.”

  “I’m glad, because I’m scared he’ll go to the farm…” She couldn’t finish her sentence. Rachel worried that Dirk would kill her brothers. Or try to. She felt completely safe in the witness protection program, but the rest of her family were at risk.

  “I know, I worry, too. Your brothers have been informed, Rachel. They aren’t going into this blind. They’re smart and they’re alert. And they’re carrying weapons on them at all times. So, don’t lose sleep on this, okay? My handler thinks Dirk will go south into Mexico and back into the cartel down there. He knows he’s a hunted man up here in the States.”

  “Mom, our ten minutes are up.”

  “I know,” Daisy fumed. “One day, this will all be over. I’ll go back to my home and farm. You can come home and be with us. We can be a family again, Rachel. That is idealism, but it’s also hope for me. That’s what I cling to and believe. It helps me get through this.”

  “I know, Mom. I dream the same dream as you….”

  “I love you, Rachel. You’re in my nightly prayers. I’ll look forward to talking to you next month.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “IT’S NEW YEAR’S EVE,” Cade said, hoping his gruff voice hid some of his nervousness. He held out a bottle of champagne to Rachel, who stood at the kitchen sink cutting up vegetables for the stockpot. She was making beef stew for dinner later that day. He’d just come in from a grocery run to town for her. Getting champagne had been an impulse, possibly a foolish one.

  Turning, Rachel’s heart melted as she noticed him holding the green bottle. Most of the time, Cade was walled up and unapproachable. Sometimes, like now, he suddenly thawed. Rachel had given up on figuring him out. “That’s so thoughtful of you. Thanks.” She dried her hands and took it from him. Their fingers accidentally touched. Instantly, Rachel felt the warmth that moved into her hand and up her arm. There was uncertainty in Cade’s gray eyes which belied an innate self-assurance in his stance. He wore a black cowboy hat, a sheepskin jacket and boots. He looked right at home with his surroundings except for this sudden shyness.

  “Beef stew, corn bread and a little bubbly for later,” she said brightly, putting the bottle into the fridge. That would be their New Year’s Eve dinner.

  Cade removed his coat and hat and hung them on the wooden pegs where the kitchen wall intersected the hallway. “I didn’t know if you drank alcohol or not,” he muttered in apology. Cade felt his chest expand with a quiet joy. He couldn’t put into words how nice it was to see Rachel in his kitchen cooking. The odor of freshly perked coffee scented the air. He ambled over to the coffeemaker on the corner of the tile counter.

  Quickly cutting up several peeled carrots, Rachel said, “I love wine and champagne. In moderation, of course.”

  Cade poured himself a cup of coffee. “Want a cup?”

  “No, thanks. I’ve had three already. One more and I’ll be on the ceiling,” she said, tossing the carrots into the pot. Rachel was having quite a time figuring him out, but Cade seemed to be in a good mood. She wanted to make him happy because he’d suffered so much loss in his life. He rarely smiled, but then she didn’t smile often, either. They had that in common.

  Cade leaned against the counter, absorbing Rachel’s nearness. Since he’d lost Abby, his social skills had taken a dive. He didn’t know how to act, especially around someone so lovely. He cleared his throat. “I could cut up the potatoes I just brought home.”

  Glancing over at him, she managed a soft smile. “Sure.” She handed him a cutting board, knife and the potatoes. For such a private man he was making an effort. But then Rachel could also see a flicker of happiness in those gray eyes. She didn’t dare presume she had any positive influence. How could she? The man was just showing his appreciation. Well, eventually she would need to leave. As the shock of seeing Lily dead at the accident on early Christmas morning had worn off, Rachel had begun to rethink being here. All morning long, she had waffled on this terrible dilemma. Should she leave? Just get up and walk away one day? Leave a note saying, “It didn’t work out”? Or give a real explanation and blow her cover? Rachel only wished her handler could make the decision for her and tell her to move on. But she hadn’t.

  Cade noticed Rachel’s long hands trembling as she picked up a carrot. The way her lips pursed bothered him. His intuition was strong and had saved his life a number of times. “Didn’t you get any sleep last night?” They had agreed upon a routine where they took shifts caring for Jenny during the night.

  “Oh, no, not really.” Rachel shrugged as she focused on peeling the carrot. “Sometimes I have a restless night.” Rachel saw his brows drawn downward and his eyes conveyed his suspicion. Rachel hated lying to Cade and to his wonderfully warm family. Her conscience ate at her. The hardworking and caring Garners didn’t deserve her lies. “It takes a while to get used to the sleep schedule. My biological clock has to adjust,” she joked, hoping this would ease the expression on his face. It didn’t.

  “I see,” Cade murmured, taking a sip of his coffee. “It is tough.”

  “Being able to do it once every six hours is nice,” Rachel quickly added, cutting up the carrots and dropping them into the pot. “But you’re going back to work shortly and I’ll be the one waking up every three hours.”

  “I know.” Something bothered Cade about her reactions. The expression in her be
autiful blue eyes spoke of fear. Why fear? This was one time that Cade wished he could be a mind reader. He finished cutting up the potatoes and put them in the pot. “Listen, we need to talk about house arrangements. I realize I’ve put you in a spot by asking you to stay here in my home. Would you be more comfortable in your cabin? I know I’m a stranger and a man, and a lot of women wouldn’t be relaxed with that arrangement.”

  Rachel’s hands stilled for a moment as she thought through his offer. Looking out the window, her gaze went to the morning frost glinting on several bare-branched trees, sparkling like diamonds beneath the sunlight. Of course, she wanted to be close to Cade and be a part of this beautiful home. “Why, no. I’m okay with it if you are.” She searched his face. She didn’t know Cade well enough to interpret his expression. Maybe he was concerned for her welfare and that was all.

  “Are you sure?” Cade asked. “Because I don’t want you to think you have to be in the same house with me, Rachel. You’re an employee, and, as such, you need to have your own autonomy. I want you happy and feeling that you can relax around here. Taking care of an infant is demanding, with a lot of sleep deprivation in the first year.”

  If only Rachel could honestly tell him just how euphoric she was to be here. “Cade, I’m really okay with this.”

  Mouth quirking, Cade sipped his coffee. Something didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. She seemed sincere. The darkness that he normally saw in the recesses of her eyes was gone. In its place was happiness. “Okay, but if it ever becomes a problem for you, the cabin is available and we’ll just work things out differently caring for Jenny.”

  “You have a deal,” Rachel said. She finished with the veggies, carried the stockpot to the gas burner and turned it on. Putting on the lid, she turned and said, “Beef stew at 6:00 p.m. tonight?”

  “Yes, 6:00 p.m.,” Cade said. He gazed down the other hall off the kitchen that led to the bedrooms. “Jenny sleeping?”

  “Yes. Thank goodness she’s one of the ‘good’ babies. You feed her and she drops off to sleep for three solid hours.”

  Cade raised his brows. “I have friends who have had cranky babies and it’s miserable on them.”

  “Right,” Rachel said, feeling his eyes upon her as she washed her hands at the sink. If only Cade wasn’t so masculine and handsome. She kept trying to stop her body from responding to his looks, the easy way he smiled or the tenor of his voice. She was secretly glad that he was single and available. But what good would that do her? Rachel couldn’t have a relationship. The idea of marrying or living with a man she had to lie to didn’t sit well with her.

  In New York City, she had had male friends, but never a lover. Dirk had scared her off getting too close to a man. Her judgment was faulty if she couldn’t spot an abusive man. But then, she had a gut sense that Cade was a good man—not like Dirk. She still fought the need to be touched by him. And Rachel wasn’t about to reveal her torrid dreams of kissing him. Most of the time he was a gruff curmudgeon who spoke in one-or two-word sentences. And sometimes, he came out of that prison and she found herself wanting to know so much more about him.

  Cade set the emptied coffee cup in a drainer in the second sink. “Feel like a little fresh air? I’d like to take you over to the barn and introduce you to the goats that give Jenny her daily milk.”

  Heart lifting, Rachel managed a nervous smile. “I’d love to do that.”

  “I don’t want you cooped up in here,” Cade muttered. “You need to get out more.”

  Rachel shook her head. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. And I’ve got to tell you, Wyoming winters are fierce compared to New York City’s idea of winter.”

  Cade walked over to the wall of pegs and lifted off his sheepskin coat. “It’s a hard winter,” he agreed. “We don’t even get a ninety-day growing season at this altitude. My mother still puts in a garden and we get what we can from it.”

  “So, you get four months of sunshine and the rest is winter coming or going?” Rachel asked, walking over and picking up her black wool coat.

  Cade settled the cowboy hat on his head. “Yes, ma’am, that’s about it. But when spring comes in early June, the Grand Tetons are like heaven. There’s no place like this anywhere on earth.” Cade watched as she shrugged into her coat and buttoned it up. Just the graceful way Rachel slid on her black leather gloves made him want to grab her by the shoulders and draw her against him. Cade reined in his desires as he walked to the back door. “Come on, let’s get you used to our hard winter and knowing you can still move around despite it….”

  THE SNOW CRUNCHED beneath their feet. Rachel followed Cade along a well-worn snow path to the huge wooden barn with the steep, green tin roof. Corrals were all around the building and in some of them she noticed shaggy-coated horses; and in others, Herefords raised as organic beef. The sky was such an intense blue at this time of day that Rachel had to squint. The sun made every color leap with radiance and brightness. Even the gray-limbed, naked trees that surrounded the main ranch home sparkled with frost. Her breath came out in white clouds. She wobbled here and there because the path from the ranch house to the barn had grown slick overnight.

  They had almost reached the barn when Rachel slipped. She let out a gasp, her arms flying outward. Landing with a thud on her butt, she felt the jar through out her body.

  In one smooth movement, Cade had turned. She was trying to push herself up on her elbows, snow scattering over her from the fall.

  “Rachel? Are you all right?” Cade knelt down and slid his arms around her shoulders and brought her into a sitting position. His face was inches from hers. He could smell the fragrance of her skin. Her lips were so close, begging to be touched and explored. Inwardly, Cade groaned.

  “Oh, I’m fine,” she laughed, embarrassed. “Look at me!” She tried to ignore his nearness, but it was impossible. Rachel made the mistake of looking up at Cade. His eyes were dark with fear. His gloved hands pressed against her shoulders. What would it be like to kiss this man? Gaze moving to his mouth, Rachel felt a burst of heat that grew into an ache between her thighs. The reaction was so strong, it shocked her.

  Cade knelt down on one knee and released her shoulders. He didn’t want to, but he had to. Rachel was too close, too…well, too desirable to him. Snow glinted in her sable hair like tiny diamonds. He removed one glove and began to pick some of it out. Her hair was strong and sleek between his fingers. Though he wanted more, Cade settled for this simple act of intimacy.

  “You’re looking more like a snowman,” he chuckled, meeting her smile. “There, I think your hair is free of most of those little snowballs.” Just the simple act of touching Rachel’s hair sent a frisson of joy through Cade. For the first time in two years, the walls started to melt around his wounded heart.

  “Thanks,” she said breathlessly, shaken by his attention. Her scalp tingled wildly. What would it be like to have Cade’s strong fingers move through the strands of her hair? His touch was light and yet, Rachel knew without a doubt, that he would be a tender lover. She didn’t know how she knew this, for she’d slept with only one man, one she wanted to forget.

  “Ready to get up?” he asked, standing and holding out his hands to her.

  Rachel laughed. “I feel like a fool, Cade.” She put her gloved hands into his, and he pulled her up easily. For a moment, their hands stayed entwined. And then, reluctantly, Rachel pulled hers from Cade’s grip.

  Cade stood over her, unsure of what to do or say next. He was like a bumbling teenager who had a crush on a girl. Rachel’s hair gleamed beneath the sunshine, a beautiful frame for her reddened cheeks and smiling lips. Lips he desperately wanted to capture and taste. “Don’t feel bad. I can’t tell you how many times Dad and I have slipped on our rears, too. It’s just part of living out in the wilds during a Wyoming winter.”

  Rachel brushed her coat free of the snow. “Makes me feel like part of the family,” she joked. Cade made her nervous, but it was only because he was
her employee, right? It wasn’t as if they could be anything more.

  “Well,” he said, putting his hand beneath her elbow as she straightened, “you are part of the family now.” His fingers cupped her elbow and he felt Rachel’s womanly strength. She was lean and fit, and Cade could sense her quiet courage. He wanted to put an arm around her shoulders, but that would be taboo.

  Glad for his unexpected support, Rachel walked with him into the barn. Inside, the wonderful, sweet smell of dried timothy and alfalfa hay scented the air. There were several windows, and light poured through the two-story barn. She stood beside him and simply absorbed it all. This was like home in Iowa. How badly Rachel wanted to confide in Cade.

  With great reluctance, Cade allowed his gloved hand to fall away from her elbow. Still, it was enough to stand so close to Rachel. She put her hands in her coat pockets and looked around. “Here in the lower area are the stalls for horses, the goats and some of Dad’s milk cows.” He walked forward down a clean concrete aisle between the wooden box stalls.

  Rachel heard bleats. “Are those the goats?”

  “Yep,” Cade said, feeling the urge to take those few steps forward and pull Rachel into his arms. Kiss her. Stunned by the realization, Cade deliberately took a step away from her. What was going on with him? He’d never felt this nervous before. He scowled and became abrupt once more. “I don’t like the pesky creatures. Dad had a Belgian plow horse he was going to show at the country fair one year, but a goat ate off the horse’s mane, so it couldn’t be shown. Goats will eat anything.”

  Rachel nodded. “Oh, they’ll decimate a garden in a heartbeat, too.” And then, she snapped her mouth shut. The Iowa farm was a part of her past. She glanced over at Cade who was sliding the bolt to the roomy box stall free. Panic flooded her. It was too easy to talk to Cade, too easy to trust him. Her normal habits seemed to dissolve beneath his powerful masculinity. She gulped. Of course he’d noticed her slip. Oh, God…