by Joanna Wayne
Collette set the plate of tomatoes on the table. “If I get any bigger, I won’t even be able to reach the table.”
“I felt the same way when I was carrying Briana,” Viviana said.
“Here’s hoping I get back to my normal size as quickly as you did.”
“Not to change the subject, but Eve’s a brilliant psychiatrist and she has an interesting theory about this family,” Julie said.
“What is it?” Kelly asked.
“She feels that Helene and Troy were not only very much in love, but that they created such a strong sense of family that it stayed with their sons through the heartbreak of her murder and Troy’s imprisonment, even surviving their years of separation from each other.”
“That certainly sounds plausible,” Kelly admitted.
“Dylan and I want to create that same sense of family, continuity and love for the land,” Collette said. “We want at least four children.”
“Don’t hesitate to tell me if you think it’s none of my business, Kelly, but how long has your husband been dead?” Julie asked.
“Three years.”
“You must miss him very much.”
“It hasn’t been easy.” That was true. She’d lost a friend. But not a husband in the truest sense of the word. And definitely not a lover. It was only in the last few days that she was starting to realize how much passion she’d really missed out on in life.
“Was Jaci in kindergarten before you moved to Mustang Run?” Viviana asked.
“No. Things were a bit unsettled in our lives last fall and I decided to hold her back a year.” Actually, that decision had been made for her by the FBI, another of the conditions of her witness-protection arrangement. It had seemed the best way to make certain Jaci was safe.
“They say the public schools in this area are excellent,” Viviana said.
“If you’re interested, our church has a great preschool and kindergarten program that you can enroll her in for the rest of this semester,” Julie said.
Out of nowhere, the haunting lullaby from Kelly’s nightmare began playing in Kelly’s mind.
Stay alive. Stay alive.
“I want to wait until things in our lives have settled down more before I send her off to school every morning.”
“There’s no hurry,” Julie agreed. “She’s enjoying the ranch, and the two of you fit into the Ledger family so well.”
They might fit, but they weren’t—and never would be—part of the family.
And before this was over Wyatt might tear this family apart all over again. Even their early years of closeness might not survive finding out that their father really had murdered their mother.
He’s innocent. Helene will tell you.
The one Helene had best talk to was Wyatt.
RUTHANNE PACED THE FLOOR as she punched in Riley’s number again. Her head was spinning from that last martini, and she was growing more pissed with every ring of the phone.
Finally, the ringing stopped and she heard a stony hello.
“Where have you been, Riley? I’ve been trying to reach you for two days.”
“You keep forgetting that we’re no longer married, Ruthanne. I don’t have to account to you for where I’ve been or whom I’ve been with.”
“Don’t take that arrogant tone with me. I made you, remember?”
“How could I forget? You reminded me every day for years. What do you want now?”
“We need to talk.”
“We have nothing to talk about.”
“I think we do. Have you heard that Linda Ann Callister’s daughter moved back to town?”
“I’ve heard. So what?”
“Don’t pull that innocent routine with me, Riley. Be here at three o’clock tomorrow. Don’t be late.”
“And if I don’t show up?”
“Then you don’t have to worry about Linda Ann’s daughter. I’ll see that you kiss any chance of being governor goodbye.”
FAMILY SINS CAN KILL. Stay alive. Stay alive.
Mothers always know. Stay alive. Stay alive.
Hold on tight to love. Stay alive. Kelly, stay alive.
The lullaby grew louder and louder until it became a deafening roar in Kelly’s ears. She opened her eyes, but couldn’t focus. Ribbons of white moved across the ceiling in slow motion.
The lullaby finally stopped and one of the ribbons drifted featherlike from the air and landed on Kelly’s pillow. Kelly reached for it, but the heat from it scorched her hand before she touched it.
A voice wafted across the room, but she couldn’t tell where it was coming from. “Talk to your mother, before it’s too late.”
Kelly picked up the pillow that the ribbon had landed on and hurled it across the room. Reaching for the lamp, she flicked it on and bathed the room in the soothing, subdued light.
Another nightmare. She slid out of the bed and tried to evict the images from her mind. The lullaby returned to haunt her along with the eerily pleading voice.
Talk to her mother. There was no doubt that finding the engagement picture had inspired her subconscious to concoct that message. Kelly’s stress level was clearly off the charts.
She was wide awake now. And thirsty. The nightmares seemed to leave her mouth incredibly dry.
Kelly hadn’t bothered to turn on a hall light and she’d stepped into the dark kitchen before she saw the shadowy figure. Her heart slammed against her chest before she realized it was Wyatt sitting at the table in the dark, moonlight slanting across his bare chest.
“You frightened me,” she said.
“I’m sorry.”
“What are you doing up this time of night?” she asked.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Neither could I.” He didn’t invite her, but she dropped into the chair opposite his. “We have to talk.”
Chapter Thirteen
Wyatt was thankful the lights were off. Even in the glimmer of moonlight shining through the window, the sight of Kelly sitting across from him in her pajamas stirred a hunger so intense, he could barely think.
“You really don’t want to hear anything I have to say tonight, Kelly. It’s gruesome and depressing.”
“Try me,” she whispered. “What is keeping you awake?”
“The same thing that’s kept me awake since I was thirteen.”
“The question of who murdered your mother?”
“Right, but it has added implications now. If I do find out it’s my father, that is going to destroy this whole family. If I don’t find out who killed my mother, I am never going to be able to live with myself. It’s a no-win situation.”
“Unless you find out that Troy is innocent. You surely haven’t ruled that out.”
“No, but I don’t see anything in what he’s said or shown me that’s negated what was presented at the trial.”
“Tell me about the trial.”
“Are you looking for nightmare material?”
“No, I have a stalker to provide that.”
“The basic case the prosecution presented was that Mother was leaving Troy. He came home from lunch, found her with her bags packed and shot her three times.”
“Why was she leaving him?”
“According to the testimony of her best friend, Mother had said just that morning she’d had enough and was going to put an end to the strife. That’s not verbatim.”
“What about the boys?”
“According to the witness, she was coming back for us and leaving our father completely alone.”
“Did only one friend attest to that?”
“Yes, but several other friends testified that Mother’s parents were always trying to get her to leave Troy. Apparently they thought Mother had married beneath her.”
“Were you that poor?”
“If my parents were struggling with financial issues, I never knew it. I mean, we didn’t go to Disney World on vacation or spend Christmas skiing in Colorado, but neither did most of the other ranchers’ kids. I don�
�t remember ever wanting for anything.”
“What evidence did your father’s defense team provide?”
“Basically nothing. They couldn’t dispute that Mother was killed with Troy’s gun. They couldn’t come up with another viable suspect. And Troy did nothing to help his case. According to news reports at the time, he sat there day after day showing a complete lack of emotion.
“The only exception was when they showed the pictures of the crime scene and talked about his five young sons being left without a mother. The prosecutor used that outbreak of weeping in his closing statement, saying that the guilt finally got to Troy.”
“Maybe he was hurting so deeply that he couldn’t face the trial and had to shut it out until the photographs made the pain too much to bear.”
“I hope you’re right. But I still need facts and the only way I’m going to prove Troy didn’t do it is to prove someone else did.”
He pushed his hands against his temples like a vise, trying to ease a nagging headache that had hammered away at him all day. “Now aren’t you sorry you asked?”
“No.”
“Let’s talk about you,” he said, though he wasn’t sure he could take hearing about a superhero husband to whom no other man could ever compare.
“What about me?”
“How long were you married before your husband died?”
“Two years. He died of a fast-growing malignancy in his stomach.”
“I’m sorry. You must have been devastated.”
“I was. He was a wonderful person, kind and intelligent and a good father.”
She’d made no mention of passion, yet Wyatt knew from one kiss that she was anything but cold.
“How did you meet him?”
“Unlike my mother, I was not the scholarly type. I dropped out of college after my sophomore year and spent two years wandering Europe. That’s when I fell in love with jewelry design and when I met Adolph.”
Adolph. Try to compete with that, cowboy cop.
“He was twenty years older than me, and far more sophisticated. I was intrigued by him and infatuated with his knowledge of all the fine arts.”
“Even though he was old enough to be your father?”
“I’d never known a father, so I never gave the father aspect of it a thought. We started having coffee together. One thing led to another and one night we took it all the way—at my insistence, I should add. I was frustrated by his lack of physical response to me.”
“That’s difficult to imagine.”
“Is it, Wyatt? I seem to inspire that same reluctance on your part. Anyway, I got pregnant in spite of using protection. I know that’s rare, but it happens. He asked me to marry him and I accepted.”
“Did you love him?”
“I thought I did at the time. I respected him. He was a fascinating conversationalist. He was honorable and thoughtful and he encouraged me to explore my interest in jewelry design.”
“You forgot to mention love.”
“Adolph came out of the closet a year later.”
“That explains a lot. But you stayed married?”
“The cancer had been diagnosed by then. He needed me.”
Wyatt reached across the table and placed his hands on top of hers. It was meant to be just a comforting touch, but his body reacted as if she’d just stripped naked in front of him. He pushed away from the table. “We should try to get some sleep,” he said, his voice so husky with desire, he couldn’t even recognize it.
“One more question, Wyatt.”
“Shoot.”
“Why kiss me senseless and then pull away as if you can’t bear to touch me? Why avoid being alone with me or even making eye contact? I haven’t changed.”
“I’m just following the lawman’s code. A cop never gets personally involved with a woman he’s protecting. It makes him lose his edge and become more susceptible to making mistakes.”
She stood and glared down at him. “That’s bull and you know it. You’re afraid of me, Wyatt. Afraid that you might fall hard for me and that I might interfere with your burning desire to settle a score for your mother no matter who it hurts.”
“You’re reading this all wrong.”
“I don’t think so, Wyatt. You may be a big, tough cop, but you’re afraid of facing your own emotions head-on. I may have married a man I didn’t love, but I’ve never run from love the way you do.”
He stood and backed away from the table. “Fear has nothing to do with this.”
“Prove it.”
She walked over and stopped right in front of him, so close he could feel her breath on his bare chest.
“Kiss me right now and prove you’re not afraid.” She took his right hand in hers and pressed it to her breast so that he could feel the peak of her nipple beneath her cotton pajamas.
He lost it then and he kissed her hard, ravaging her lips, exploding in a rush of desire he couldn’t have stopped if he wanted to. He didn’t want to.
So he picked her up and carried her to his bed.
Chapter Fourteen
Kelly’s heart was racing as Wyatt ripped a multicolored quilt from the bed and laid her on top of a crisp white sheet. The linens smelled of Wyatt, a mixture of soap and pine and musk. There was little time to revel in the intoxication of the scents as he stretched out beside her and kissed her until her lungs begged for air.
He kissed her eyes, her nose, her cheeks before he finally let his lips return to her mouth. When his fingers fumbled too long on the buttons of her pajama top, she helped him, wishing he’d just rip it off and take her savagely.
Once her breasts were freed, he cupped them in his hands and sucked her nipples, nibbling and pinching lightly so that they pebbled and peaked as she arched toward him.
Her hands roamed his broad shoulders, as his fingers created deliciously heated spirals of pleasure across her abdomen. And then he dipped his fingers beneath the elastic waistband of her pajamas and the hunger she’d kept famished too long exploded inside her.
She trembled as he kissed the column of her neck and put his mouth to her ear. “Are you sure you want this, Kelly? If you don’t, or if you think you’ll face tomorrow with regrets, tell me now.”
“I want you, Wyatt. I’m sure I want you. Just you. No promises you can’t keep. No commitments you can’t honor. Just one night where I can feel and love and let go without inhibition.”
One night of heaven with no thoughts of Emanuel Leaky or thugs or threatening texts. No thoughts of anything but Wyatt and the way he protected and thrilled and was setting her heart and soul on fire.
She wiggled out of her pajama bottoms while Wyatt shucked off his jeans. She consumed him with her eyes as he stretched out naked beside her. He might not ever be hers to keep, but nothing would ever take this moment from her.
He straddled her and she wrapped her legs around him as he thrust the hard length of his erection deep inside her. He thrust again and again and she writhed beneath him until a volcano of hot, wet desire erupted inside her. He exploded with her in an orgasm so intense that a sob tore from her throat.
Wyatt rolled off her and cradled her in his arms. “Did I hurt you?”
“No. It’s just been so long, and making love with you felt so right.”
“I don’t ever want to hurt you, Kelly. It will kill me if I do, but…”
She kissed his words away. “I told you I’m not asking for promises of forever.”
“I was just going to say that I’m through fighting what I feel for you. If you want to get rid of me now you’ll have to kick me out of your life, and I’m not even sure that would do it.”
“In that case, you’ll be around for a long, long time.”
Unless a madman and an almost twenty-year-old murder destroyed them both.
WHEN SHE HADN’T HEARD from Sheriff McGuire about the fingerprint check by noon the next day, Kelly grew antsy. If Viviana and Briana hadn’t come to the house to keep her company, she’d have been climbing the wal
ls by now.
Making love with Wyatt had definitely changed her mind about looking for an apartment, but it made her no less concerned about the danger that kept threading its way through her life.
“Why don’t we drive into town and check the guys’ progress on the house,” Viviana said. “We might even be able to talk them into taking a lunch break with us.”
“That’s a great idea,” Kelly said. “I’ll go find Troy and see if he wants to go with us.”
“I’m sure he does,” Viviana said. “No doubt it’s killing him to be left out of the construction fun and the chance to spend more time with Wyatt.”
“Did the heart attack last year limit his physical activities?” Kelly asked.
“Somewhat. But he’s here today because he drew bodyguard duty. Didn’t Wyatt tell you?”
“No.” For some stupid reason she’d felt so safe at the ranch she hadn’t even thought the perp, as Wyatt called him, might show up here. “Then we should stay here on the ranch,” Kelly said. “We can’t leave Julie and Collette alone.”
“Well, you’re never really alone on the ranch. Dylan just hired two new wranglers and that brings the number up to six. But Collette and Julie aren’t on the ranch today anyway. They went into Austin to pick up a lamp Collette ordered for the nursery.”
“How long will that take?”
“At least a couple of hours, but then they’re stopping by Sean’s so Collette can go with him to look at a stallion he’s thinking of buying as a stud horse. They won’t be home until close to dinnertime.”
“And you got stuck here with me?”
“Not true. I went horseback riding before Dakota left and then came home and finished a book I was reading. See, we do all pursue our own interests.”
In minutes they were loaded into Troy’s truck. Viviana squeezed in between Briana and Jaci who were safely buckled in their respective car and booster seats. Briana kicked and fussed until the car started. Then she happily entertained them with her delightful mix of recognizable and unrecognizable syllables for the remainder of the ride.
