Deadly Identity

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Deadly Identity Page 9

by Lindsay McKenna


  Nodding, Cade got busy at the stove and refrigerator. “Two grilled cheese sandwiches coming up.” Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Cade liked this kind of teamwork between himself and Rachel. They had established a rhythm, and it worked well. In some ways, it was as if they were really married. And every time he went there emotionally, Cade reminded himself he was available. He’d thought often of entering a more intimate relationship with her. What stopped him cold was the fact she was his employee. And he wanted Jenny to have someone like Rachel around for a long time. Also, Rachel had never given him any type of signal that she wanted such a relationship with him. He had to keep his yearnings to himself. It was the only way.

  “So,” Rachel said, putting the chocolates on the table, “how’s it going today?” She realized Cade was nervous and tried to put him at ease.

  “Insane,” Cade said, putting the sandwiches in the black skillet. “Spring thaw brings out a kind of craziness in the local population. Since it hasn’t snowed the last week, people can get around a lot easier. The older folks get into trouble because if they drive early, black ice is still on the road. We’ve had a number of fender benders all morning.” Cade felt somewhat better with his hands busy.

  “Anyone hurt?” Rachel asked, going to the cupboard and taking down plates for the sandwiches that Cade grilled over the stove. Even his shoulders seemed tense to her, the fabric pulled across his back showing off his physique. Cade worked out every day in the house’s small gym. Rachel wondered what he looked like without clothes, and the thought brought stinging heat to her cheeks.

  “No, and that’s the good part,” he said, concentrating very hard on the sandwiches. “It just means a lot of paperwork for me on something very minor.” Shrugging, he added, “That’s how it goes, though.” He glanced over his shoulder at her placing flatware on the table. “How’s it going with your illustrations? Did you get some time this morning to work on them?” He was stumbling over his words, which happened when he was nervous around Rachel. In his job, he was mostly cool as a cucumber. Something about this woman addled his brain.

  “Let me show you what I’ve done.” Rachel walked out of the kitchen and went to her bedroom to collect the illustrations.

  Cade used a spatula to scoop up the sandwiches and place them on plates. When Rachel returned, she put her sketches at the other end of the table. “You have been busy,” he said, relieved to be focused on anything but her.

  Smiling, Rachel poured them some coffee and sat down. “Yes, I have. After Jenny eats, she goes to sleep. I get about an hour and a half to work on my sketching.”

  Cade sat down at the head of the table and settled the paper napkin across his lap. “I’d like to look at them after I eat and clean my paws,” he said. Close, he was so close to Rachel. What to do with his hands? Cade grabbed the knife and cut his sandwich in two.

  Rachel felt euphoria. This was the first time Cade had been home at lunch. And he seemed far more chatty than normal. Was it because of Valentine’s Day? Was he trying to make her feel valued? Rachel tried to quell her nervousness as she sat down. “They’re just sketches. When I’m in the art mode, they get coffee spilled on them, so don’t worry about that.”

  Cade nodded and took a bite of his sandwich. It was a special hell looking across the table at Rachel. Her movements were so graceful. Her fingers long and beautiful. Again, his heart entertained those fingers grazing his flesh.

  Happiness threaded through Rachel. Sitting in the kitchen eating lunch with Cade was heaven on earth for her. His unexpected arrival flushed her with a joy she’d never experienced. As she munched on her sandwich, she gazed at the vase of roses. “That was so sweet of you to get me flowers and chocolate, Cade. Thank you.” Dirk had never given her anything except pain. Since settling down with this family, Rachel began to realize just how naive she had been when she’d run off with Payson. It had taught her to think carefully through any decision. How would it affect others?

  “I get off at 4:00 p.m. today,” Cade told her. And then, the words flew, unbidden, out of his mouth. “There’s a Valentine’s Day dance at the armory in Jackson Hole. Would you like to go? It’s just locals and it’s a lot of fun, maybe a good way to meet people I work with.” He hoped she would say yes, but he saw shock and then hesitation in her blue eyes. He shouldn’t be asking, but something had compelled him. He was at war within himself. His head told him this was a stupid thing. His heart desperately wanted some intimate time with Rachel. He was emotionally being torn apart. Even worse, he seemed to have little control over himself where she was concerned.

  “But,” Rachel stammered, reeling at the request, “who would take care of Jenny?”

  “My mom and dad,” he said abruptly. “They’re staying home. Automatic babysitters.” Cade hoped his anxiousness didn’t translate to Rachel. “Would you like to go? It would get you out of here for a while. I worry about you being cooped up so much here at the ranch. You’ve barely left the place since you’ve moved in.”

  What could she say? Rachel didn’t want to raise any suspicion but she also couldn’t be too visible. “I’m not a very good dancer,” she said.

  “Me neither.” Cade smiled ever so slightly. “We could go out on slow dances only and try to avoid one another’s feet?” Cade told himself he was doing this for her own good. Rachel stayed holed up like a proverbial bear in hibernation mode. There had to be a good reason, and he just wanted to spend more time with her. “Listen,” he murmured, reaching out and briefly touching her hand, “I don’t want this to be a prison sentence to you. It’s just going to be lighthearted fun, that’s all. Nothing serious. No commitment. Just a little midwinter lift for the spirit. The whole town looks forward to this dance. It gets people out of their homes to catch up with one another.” God help him, he’d touched her. He had to stop this. Cade clenched his jaw and forced his hands to his sides. What the hell was he doing? Why was he so out of control? Rachel had done nothing to trigger these needs in him.

  Rachel knew she was trapped. Her hand tingled wildly in the wake of his touch. He was her employer and the tension between them felt far too intimate. What was he doing? What did he want from her? Rachel’s mind careened from one question to another. One of the tenets of the federal witness protection program was to appear normal and blend in. By now, Cade was well aware she’d turned down every offer to go to the grocery store with him. That wasn’t exactly normal behavior. Of course, Rachel wanted to go to the dance with him. But she knew from hard experience that selfishness did more than just harm her—it had harmed her entire family. “That sounds nice, Cade,” she managed in a strangled tone. “How formal is it?”

  Relief flooded Cade. He sat back in the chair and tried to seem nonchalant about the whole thing. “There’s nothing fancy about it. Women wear dresses or slacks. It’s country people being relaxed, down-home and simply enjoying one another’s company.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Rachel said, trying to mean it. Blend in or stand out. Well, she’d managed to hide in this town for two months. She doubted anyone would know her. But now, they would. If she didn’t go, Cade could get even more suspicious. And truth be told, she could already feel how wonderful it would be to slow-dance with him, walk around on his arm, be his date.

  Cade looked at his watch. “Gotta run,” he said, rising from the chair. The need to run pushed him hard. What had he just done? Shell-shocked by his own behavior, Cade walked over to the peg and shrugged into his brown nylon coat.

  Rachel remained at the table feeling partly excited and partly fearful. “What time is the dance?”

  “Seven to ten o’clock,” Cade said, settling his trooper’s hat on his head. “We’ll stay only as long as you want.” He had to give her choices. If he had his way, they’d stay until the dance closed up.

  “I’ll have dinner for us at five-thirty, then.” She gripped her hands in her lap beneath the table. Nerves fled through her. Wild, unreasonable dreams were coming to life. She saw him scowl
again, closed up and unreadable once more. What could he really be thinking and feeling? Was he an employer being “nice” to her? Or was he about to cross that line she wasn’t sure she wanted to cross? Fear mingled with excitement.

  Opening the door, Cade lifted his hand, feeling as if he were both floating on a cloud of joy and walking a path straight to hell. “See you later…” He fled out into the cold air, which revived him. Why was he feeling trapped? As he got into the SUV, Cade shook his head, angry at himself. He felt bad for Rachel. Maybe that was why he did these stupid things. All he wanted to do was make her happy. He shut the door of his cruiser and slipped the key into the ignition.

  As he called in to the dispatcher to let her know he was done with lunch, Cade drove slowly off the ranch. Yes, that was it, Cade felt sorry for Rachel because she was holed up in the house and never left it. He was a sucker for those who needed help. Was it really romantic attraction? His mouth went thin and he headed back toward the town. Who was he fooling? With a sigh, Cade knew it could never be. The people he loved died on him. And more than anything else, Cade could not stand losing someone he loved again. His hands gripped the steering wheel hard for a moment. Yes, he simply felt sorry for Rachel. That was all.

  THE DOOR CLOSED. Rachel sat, hands in her lap, staring at the roses. Dirk had never given her flowers. After the rushed wedding in Las Vegas, Rachel hadn’t seen any more. Her life had switched to fast-paced Miami, Florida. Oh, Dirk had brought her chocolates from time to time, but when he did, he wanted something for them. Rachel shivered. Everything Dirk gave her came with a price.

  Rachel reached out and touched the red, velvety petal of one rose. It felt so soft and pliable. The scent already filled the kitchen like a heady perfume. What did Cade want? Rubbing her face, Rachel scolded herself for being so naive and stupid. The pain of the past overpowered this happy moment. Could a man give her such gifts and not want something for it? Her body? Her kisses? Those were the things Dirk always expected from her whether she was in the mood or not.

  Rachel tried to calm herself. The look in Cade’s eyes was like that of a little boy shyly giving the girl he likes a gift. She could see the light in his expression, the need to please her, to make her happy. But that look had been there for a second and was quickly swallowed up by that implacable gaze that was always there.

  The most important thing was that she remain brutally honest with what she saw in others as well as in herself. This helped her form better judgments about people. But Cade confused her. She sat staring at the roses. She liked the gifts. She loved being surprised. And most of all, Cade had been thoughtful toward her. It could be innocent.

  Getting up, Rachel cleared the table and put the dirty plates in the dishwasher. The fact was that she longed for intimate contact with Cade. Each time he touched her, her entire body blossomed like a ripe peach. No question, she was coming alive once more. The long tunnel of suffering, grief and depression was finally dissolving. Was it because of Cade? His family? Or maybe it was just time.

  Rachel wiped the crumbs off the table and rinsed the cloth beneath the tap. The wintery, sunny scene outside the window cheered her up. The place looked like a picture-postcard and Rachel wanted to do a watercolor of it someday. When she wasn’t doing her illustrations and writing, she was building a portfolio of watercolor landscapes that she hoped would be seen in a gallery.

  Cade…what to do about him? Hands resting on the sink, Rachel stared out the window, lost in the turmoil of that dangerous question. What to do about herself? She ached to be in his arms. Dreamed about making love with him. Wondering if he’d be a gentle lover. She had only Dirk to compare him to.

  What did she want? She wanted Cade! She wanted this life. Rachel didn’t want to admit how happy she was right now. Happier than she could remember in years. She was on a ranch, not a farm, but to her, it was the same thing. Nature surrounded them, the animals and the hardworking people who made it thrive fed her thirsty soul. Yet, they were things out of her reach forever. A gutting sadness cut through her. It wasn’t fair that she be denied happiness, a way of life, because of Dirk. The whole notion made her angry, which felt far better than being scared.

  With a damp cloth, Rachel cleaned the tile counter. Her mind and heart were centered on Cade. He was just coming out of his own long tunnel of grief over the loss of his wife and child. Rachel felt that something had put her in front of him and Jenny for a reason. So many synchronistic things had happened that it left her marveling at it all.

  Was she allowed to be happy? The FBI had told her that if she ever fell in love and married, her husband could never know of her past. None of it. Ever. Rachel found that harder to accept than anything else. Her life was one big, continuing lie. Squeezing her eyes shut, Rachel pressed her palms into them for a moment.

  Dropping her hands away from her eyes, Rachel stared at the roses. That was why she’d avoided relationships in the past. She didn’t lie well. She knew she’d trip up. She’d nearly done that with Cade out in the barn over the discussion about the goats. No way could she stop her real life, her past, from bleeding into the present. That was why she had avoided serious and personal relationships with men in the past.

  Now, it was different, for whatever reason. Cade symbolized the man she’d dreamed of—someone who was honest, hardworking and ruggedly handsome. Cade was also kind, thoughtful and sensitive. All those qualities Rachel had craved in her dream partner. Cade loved children. There was nothing to dislike about this man who had made his house her home. And he was honorable. Rachel couldn’t name a time when he’d gone out of his way to touch her flirtatiously or sidled up to her. No, he’d treated her like a valued and respected friend, not a lover. If he had come on to her, she’d have left long ago.

  Maybe that was the difference with Cade. They were becoming friends. Rachel had had male acquaintances, but had never found a true friend among them. In fact, she hadn’t wanted to get too close because of her fear of divulging her past. Some of her emotional turmoil subsided. Cade was a friend. She could have a friend. And she could continue to allow herself to appreciate and like him as a friend.

  Somehow, realizing this made her attending a dance more palatable and less threatening to her heart. Rachel could never fall in love. She wasn’t going to lie to that person who held her heart. She could allow Cade into her life as a friend.

  Rachel’s ears picked up on Jenny’s fussing as she awoke. Turning, she put away her angst and walked down the hall to get the baby. Humming a tune, Rachel felt some of the weight lift from her shoulders. Tonight wouldn’t be torture. No, it was two friends going to a dance to enjoy the night. That was all.

  CHAPTER NINE

  CADE TRIED TO NOT STARE at Rachel. She had brushed her hair up into a youthful style with several combs. It showed off her slender neck. He drove his dark blue pickup along the wet highway, the black asphalt gleaming with recent snow that had melted. Even in her black wool coat and red muffler, he thought she looked beautiful. As headlights passed them, Rachel’s clean profile and her soft, full lips were illuminated. His body tightened. Groaning inwardly, Cade felt as if he were a prisoner between heaven and hell. He knew what hell was; he’d lived in it for two years. With Rachel coming into his life, Cade was in heaven. He was constantly battling himself not to touch her. Savagely, he reminded himself he was doing this as a compassionate gesture. Nothing else.

  Cade stared straight ahead and tried to stay focused. His thoughts strayed to how happy Rachel looked. Happy to get out of the house? To be with him? His gut tightened with anxiety. Rachel was so good with Jenny and the baby was thriving happily beneath her care and love. It stopped Cade from rocking the boat. He frowned. Besides, in the months Rachel had been under his roof, she’d never given him a signal that she was interested in him.

  Was that why he’d brought her the roses and candy? Cade tried once again to concentrate on his driving. As they breasted the hill, the colorful lights of Jackson Hole glimmered down below.
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  “The town looks like a Christmas tree,” Rachel confided. Indeed, the town was in a “hole.” She had found out from Gwen that her ancestors had been a mix of Native American and French fur trappers who had come in here. At that time a valley was referred to as a “hole” and the name had stuck. Although, Gwen told her, the mayor wanted the town to be known simply as Jackson and not Jackson Hole. Rachel didn’t know why. The romantic story of how the Wyoming town came into being was pure Western nostalgia and should remain as is, she thought.

  “Yes,” Cade said, “it does.”

  Out the side window Rachel saw that the darkness was complete. On her right, she knew a huge mountain stood, invisible at night. To the left of them was a wide, flat expanse, the Elk Refuge where thousands of animals remained. They came out of the mountains to the lower altitude in order to survive. In the spring, they would all leave and go back to the mountains. Closer to Jackson Hole were wetlands and a river, perfect habitat for the elk herds.

  “Why aren’t you getting out more?” Cade asked abruptly. “My mother is worried that you’re holing up too much in the house. She thinks you need to get out more often.”

  Rachel went into her defensive mode of lies. “I guess I’m a natural homebody,” she offered, trying to make light of his concern. Opening her hands, she added, “I’m used to working at my employer’s home.”

  “Mom said you’ve only driven your car into town twice.”

  “Your mother is like a tornado on the run,” Rachel said with a chuckle. “I’m sure she doesn’t stay more than five minutes in any given spot.”

  “That’s true,” Cade agreed wryly, glancing over at her. The smile on Rachel’s shadowed features was anxious, her eyes darkened so he couldn’t accurately read them. “She’s a hard worker 24/7,” he agreed. Again, tension sprang to the cab of the truck.

 

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