Accidental Heiress

by Lauren Nichols

  The kitchen was ringing with laughter and cowboy tales by the time Jess had cleared away the remains of their hamburgers, french fries and salad and Casey was dishing up ice cream. Still, Ross kept glancing at the two of them, clearly aware that something was wrong. Not that hard to see, Jess thought grimly, since he and Casey joked and laughed with everyone else, but their comments to each other were brief.

  The phone rang, and as Jess started for it, Ross almost knocked over his chair getting up. “That’s okay, I got it.” When he said, “It’s for me,” then curled himself into the corner beside the back door in a bid for privacy, Jess feared the call was trouble. Then bits of conversation drifted to him over the noise at the table, and he knew it was. “She owes me.... Risked my butt... Just a little more time....”

  Suddenly, Ross hung up, grabbed his hat and slammed out the back door. Pruitt met Jess’s eyes soberly; Casey’s worried gaze flew to Jess and begged him to go after his brother.

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, depositing their dirty dishes in the sink. His gaze lingered on Casey’s an instant longer, trying to convey with a look that he wished things weren’t so strained between them. Then there was nothing to do but leave.

  Ross was nearly to the bunkhouse when Jess caught him. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle. Go back and eat your ice cream.”

  “Not till I know where you’re going.”

  “Into town.” Ross kept walking, digging his keys out of his jeans.

  Jess met him stride for stride as he digested that information, then made a hopeful presumption. Maybe that call had finally shaken the kid up enough that he would come clean about the trouble he was in and make things right. “I’ll come with you,” Jess offered. “We can swing by Mark’s place first, so you’ll have a lawyer when you talk to Farrell.”

  They were approaching Ross’s truck now, and he separated his keys. He opened the door. “That’s not where I’m going.”

  Jess’s blood ran cold, and he shoved the truck door shut before Ross could climb inside. “If that call was what I think it was, and there’s another incident—”

  “That wasn’t an invitation to rustle cattle,” Ross snapped, yanking the door open again. “That was a personal conversation that I need to take care of right now.”

  “What’s so important that you’d drive into town smelling like sweat and animals? Dammit, Ross, this has to stop. I know you’re broke, and if these guys are riding your hide for payment, you need to get to Farrell before something happens that can’t be fixed.”

  Ross sighed and wiped his hand over his face. “Look,” he said, calmer now. “I can fix this. When I tell her—” He stopped abruptly, realizing he’d said more than he had intended.

  “Her?” Jess prodded. “That was a woman on the phone?”

  “No,” Ross answered impatiently, “but there’s a woman who owes me money, and I need it. Now let me take care of this so I can get back and have some dessert.”

  Jess backed away from the truck, still uneasy, but feeling moderately better because Ross was dealing with a woman. It seemed unlikely that the trouble could get too far out of hand. Still, there was a problem to be addressed. “Ross?”

  Ross climbed inside and cranked the ignition. “Yeah?”

  “Take care of your business, then see Farrell. You asked me to keep quiet for a couple of days, and I’ve done it. I can’t do it any longer.”

  Ross paled. “Jess, I just need—”

  Reluctantly Jess shook his head. “I’m sorry. But if you don’t tell him tonight, I’ll do it myself tomorrow.” And Jess was afraid that was what it would come to.

  In a roar of engine and spitting gravel, Ross took off and, sighing, Jess wandered down to the stable to groom the horses. He couldn’t return to the forced camaraderie of the kitchen. Neither of his ranch hands would ask what had happened. Hank and Pruitt knew that a man’s business was just that, unless he felt like talking about it.

  But Casey might have questions, and he couldn’t talk to her about this tonight without reaching out for comfort. Knowing how she thought she felt about him, that wouldn’t be fair. He wouldn’t hurt her again with this on-again, off-again affection...no matter how badly he wanted to lay his head against her and listen to the soothing sound of her heartbeat.

  Casey stopped drying the dishes and glanced at the clock for the hundredth time since Pruitt and Hank had left. Where had Jess and Ross gone? She’d heard them speed down the driveway an hour or more ago, and she’d been a nervous wreck ever since. After overhearing snatches of Ross’s phone conversation, she suspected they were on their way to deal with the men who were harassing Ross.

  Dear God, if anything happened to Jess... to either of them...

  The phone rang. Casey dropped the dish towel on the countertop and hurried to answer it. Please, let it be Jess, she prayed.

  “Hello?”

  “Miss Marshall?”

  Casey frowned in disappointment. “Speaking,” she said to the woman on the other end of the line.

  “I’m so glad I caught you in,” the pleasant voice said with a sigh. “This is Belle Craw ford. I wonder if I could impose on you to drop by my shop this evening and pick up the ring I made for your mother?”

  Casey glanced about the kitchen uncertainly. She couldn’t leave now—not without knowing if Jess and Ross were all right. “Well, actually, Ms. Craw ford, I’m afraid I can’t toni—”

  The woman cut in. “I wouldn’t ask, but I’ve just been called out of state on an emergency. My mother’s had a serious stroke.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Thank you. I’m flying to Boston tonight, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back. Her recovery could take a very long time. That’s why I’m asking you to pick up your mother’s gift.”

  Tom, Casey looked out the back door, watching for the glow of headlights that would tell her Jess was back. “There won’t be anyone in your shop tomorrow?”

  “No, in fact, I’ll be closing tonight. I’m asking all my customers to come in this evening for their layaways and special orders.” Belle drew a deep breath, then added uncomfortably, “It embarrasses me to say this...but I’m afraid I’m going to be needing the money for my trip.”

  And Casey realized she couldn’t very well say no. The keys to Jess’s truck hung from their usual hook near the door, and Casey took them. “I’ll be right in, Ms. Craw ford. Could you have my bill ready when I get there? I really need to come straight back here.”

  “Absolutely,” Belle gushed appreciatively. “And I can’t thank you enough.”

  Hanging up, Casey grabbed a pen and notepaper from the wall caddy beside the calendar, then wrote a quick note for Jess and slid it under a refrigerator magnet. Then she grabbed her purse and left.

  The long drive to Comfort gave her time to think about a lot of things: the pediatrics job in Chicago, her mother’s newfound happiness...and her tenuous situation with Jess. Memories of their lovemaking last night swam through her mind and she sighed in the silent cab of his truck. He’d been so strong, so tender, so giving....

  And suddenly she realized something that she’d noticed only in a peripheral way last night—neither of them had given a thought to protection. She had welcomed him inside her again and again, without thinking of the consequences.

  Casey did a quick mental calendar check. And gooseflesh ran the length of her body as a startling realization hit her. She could be pregnant.

  But was that a good thing or a bad thing? How wonderful it would be to carry and nurture a child of his. But once before, Jess had been trapped in a marriage he didn’t want because of a lapse in judgment—and she didn’t know how he would react to the possibility that it had happened again.

  Did she dare tell him what she suspected and watch as the fear in his eyes became duty and he asked her to marry him out of obligation?

  “No,” she whispered. She would not do that—to him, to herself, or t
o their child.

  Maybe he would never love her. Maybe they would always live separate lives. But now, when she left Montana, there was a good chance she would leave with his child, if not his heart.

  Chapter 14

  Except for the light in the foyer and a small lamp burning in the den, the house was dark when Jess ambled wearily inside and closed the door behind him. It was only nine o’clock, but apparently Casey had already gone to her room.

  Understandable, he thought. Neither of them had gotten much sleep last night, and trying to move a bunch of obstinate cows and calves that were perfectly happy where they were hadn’t been a cakewalk. Then she’d fixed supper for Ross, Hank, and... He scowled. Pruitt.

  But while he was down at the barn, he’d realized how important it was that they talk things through, clear the air.

  Jess’s gaze slid up the staircase. And regardless of his thoughts a moment ago about her being exhausted, soon he was in the dark hall outside her room.

  He tapped softly on the door. “Casey? Can we talk for a minute?” When she didn’t answer, he knocked again, a little louder, then opened the door a crack. “Are you awake?” he asked quietly. “I know it’s been a lousy day. But if we’re going to be living under the same roof for a while yet, we need to get past this.”

  The room was too quiet. He knew the soft sound of her breathing, and it was conspicuously absent. Throwing open the door, Jess snapped on the light and looked at the empty bed. A fear he didn’t understand jolted him.

  She was gone?

  Striding to the closet, he yanked open the door. All her city clothes and country clothes hung side by side. All her perfume bottles and lotions still lined the bureau.

  So where was she?

  Jealousy flared as Pruitt’s lean, interested face rose in Jess’s memory, followed by the more aggravating image of Casey in Pruitt’s arms as they’d two-stepped around Dusty’s dance floor. Casey knew how he felt about the man. Would she have gone somewhere with Ray just to spite him? Jess wondered. Could she do that, only hours after loving him in their bed? A small, mocking voice reminded him that it was his bed, not theirs, then added, And what if she did go out to have a few laughs with Pruitt? She told you she was in love with you, and you told her to take a hike. She’s entitled to a life, right?

  “Not with Ray Pruitt, she isn’t,” Jess muttered beneath his breath.

  The phone rang as he was descending the stairs at breakneck speed, and Jess veered from his course to the bunkhouse to answer it. “Hello!” he snapped.

  Melodious laughter rang through the earpiece, followed by a gushingly sweet voice that he recognized instantly. “My goodness. Sounds like you just got in and found the note your pretty blond house guest left. She warned me about that.”

  Jess’s mind swam with confusion. How did Belle Craw-ford know he’d just gotten in? Had she phoned earlier? And why should she know anything about Casey?

  “You do know who this is, don’t you, Jess?”

  “Yes, Belle, I know who you are,” Jess said coldly. He didn’t like the apprehension rolling through his gut, didn’t like the smug sound of Belle’s voice. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I imagine the same thing that’s on yours. Cattle rustling... kidnapping. We have Ross, too, in case you’re interested. What a shame he had to tell you about my other business ventures and put himself and Miss Marshall at risk. He should have known I don’t threaten easily.”

  Jess’s heart was beating so fast he couldn’t breathe. Belle’s other business ventures? Casey and Ross were at risk? What in hell was the woman talking about?

  “For the moment, they’re fine. All you have to do to make sure they stay that way is sit tight and keep your mouth shut while I pack a few things and clear out I’ll call you in a few hours to let you know where they are.” He heard the mocking smile in her voice. “Then you can ride in with the cavalry and look like a hero.”

  Jess’s stomach gave a nauseating lurch as Belle’s words began to make a disjointed kind of sense. Belle Craw ford had to be the woman Ross had gone to see tonight—the woman who owed him money. And from everything she’d said, Jess suddenly knew that Ross’s two cattle-rustling acquaintances had a boss. Belle Craw ford and the “delivery-men” Casey had seen at the shop were at the heart of the cattle thefts. Casey had been right when she questioned Belle’s too-pleasant personality; it had been hiding something.

  Another piece of the jumbled puzzle fell into place. Faced with some sort of threat, Ross must have told Belle that Jess knew about their illegal escapades. Now she was holding Ross and Casey to guarantee Jess’s silence.

  “Cat got your tongue, Jess?”

  Anger roared through Jess’s veins, and he swore. “So help me, if you hurt either one of them, you won’t be able to run far enough.”

  Tinkling laughter mocked him again. “I might call the ranch periodically to make sure you’re there. So if you don’t answer, or if you involve the sheriff...they’re both dead.”

  “You wouldn’t do that.”

  “Wouldn’t I? If I were to get caught, I’d be spending the next twenty years in prison. At my age, I probably wouldn’t live much longer than that. Murder or cattle rustling—what’s the difference? For me, the penalty’s the same.” Her voice went cold. “And while I’m paying my debt to society...I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that you paid, too.”

  “Let me talk to them!”

  Belle hung up.

  Jess slammed down the receiver in the den and whirled away, adrenaline rushing through his veins, every muscle quaking. Where was she? Where had Belle called from? Her shop? He’d strained his hearing to pick up background sounds during their conversation, but there had been none.

  Sick with fear, Jess strode to the gun cabinet, unlocked the deep drawer, and grabbed his holstered .45. Regardless of what Belle had said, he had to find Ross and Casey. Because he couldn’t trust Belle not to hurt them—not after shots had been fired at Moe Jackson. And he couldn’t count on Cy Farrell for help right now.

  Jess’s mind spun. Belle had said she had to pack first. Though much of Belle’s jewelry was relatively inexpensive, Jess knew, she had some good stuff, too. She wouldn’t leave it behind. He dug around for shells, loaded his gun and shoved some spare bullets into his pocket. Then he hurried through the door and out on the porch, strapping his gun belt to his hip.

  His truck was gone.

  Jess swore angrily. Had Belle or one of her friends relieved him of his transportation to make sure he stayed where he was? Or had Casey taken it? If she had, she’d probably explained in her note, but he didn’t have time to look for it right now.

  Jess was at the bunkhouse in a minute, pounding at the door.

  “Ray?” He banged at the door again, then strode inside, rousting old Hank and Pruitt out of their bunks. “Sorry to wake you, Hank,” Jess said quickly, then turned to Pruitt, who was bare-chested and zipping his jeans. “Ray, I need to borrow your Blazer. Casey and Ross are in trouble, and my truck’s gone.”

  Pruitt scrambled for his keys and tossed them to Jess. “That guy Deke and his skinny blond sidekick?”

  “Are they the men Ross owes?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then they’re the ones. Belle Craw ford, too. They’re behind the rustling, and they’re holding Ross and Casey somewhere until they can clear out of the area.”

  Pruitt’s brow lined, and Jess could see that Ray was as confused as Jess had been earlier. “But why? Why would they get involved in kidnapping?”

  “Insurance. Ross must have gotten in a bind and lied to them—told them I knew all about their extracurricular activities. They don’t want me going to the police.”

  Hank expelled the only curse Jess had ever heard out of him. “Ray, you go with Jess. I’d go myself, but I wouldn’t be no help.”

  But Ray was already grabbing a shirt and reaching for the holstered Colt hanging from a peg on the wall.

  Jess stopped him. “I can’t ask y
ou to do that. But I do need someone to man the phone at the house. Belle warned me to stay put, so if she calls—and I pray she’ll be too busy to do that—your voice might be close enough to mine to convince her I’m not out looking for her. Keep your answers brief.”

  Pulling on his shirt, Pruitt followed Jess, barefoot, out the bunkhouse. “Where you headin’?”

  “Belle’s shop. If they’re not there, I don’t know where in hell to look.”

  “Try Babylon,” Ray said. “Belle owns it.”

  Jess was stunned, but didn’t break stride. Although who better to own a private poker club and brothel than the granddaughter of one of the most notorious madams in the state? “You’re sure about Babylon?” he said, hopping into Pruitt’s Blazer. He didn’t have time for wild-goose chases.

  “Positive. One of her girls told me.”

  “Thanks.” And as Jess met Ray’s dark, concerned gaze a second longer, he realized he might have misjudged the man. “I mean it, Ray,” Jess said sincerely. “Thanks.” Then he backed the Blazer out onto the packed dirt of the driveway and gunned it toward town.

  Casey glanced up in shock from her bound position on Belle’s office floor, a brand-new fear slicing through her. The woman couldn’t be serious. She swung an anxious look at Ross. His hands, too, were bound behind him, and as they sat propped against a wall together, his gaze was a mixture of desperation and helplessness. He’d been apologizing since she walked into the shop and Deke grabbed her.

  “Jess’ll come for us, Casey,” he whispered shakily. “I know he will.”

  Belle shouted at Deke again. “You heard me! Use some of those muscles you’re always flexing around my girls and take her to the truck. She’s going with us.”

  “She’s not going with us!” Deke bellowed right back. “She’ll slow us down. Leave her in the basement like we talked about. By the time anyone finds her, we’ll be long gone.”