Lone Star Winter

by Diana Palmer

  Jordan Powell pulled up right beside her in his truck and threw open the passenger door. “Get in!” he called.

  She didn’t need prompting. She jumped right in beside him, tire tool and all, and slammed the door. “He was dousing the back porch with gas!” she panted. “Don’t let him get away!”

  “I don’t intend to.” His face was grim as he stood down on the accelerator and the truck shot forward on the pasture road, which was no more than tracks through tall grass.

  The attempted arsonist was tiring. He was pretty thick in the middle and had short legs. He was almost to a beat-up old car sitting out of sight of the house near the barn when Jordan came alongside him on the driver’s side.

  “Hold it in the ruts!” he called to Libby.

  Just as she grabbed the wheel, he threw open the door and leaped out on the startled, breathless young man, pinning him to the ground.

  By the time Libby had the truck stopped, Jordan had the man by his shirt collar and was holding him there.

  “Pick up the phone and call Hayes,” he called to Libby.

  Her hands were shaking, but she managed to dial 911 and give the dispatcher an abbreviated account of what had just happened. She was told that they contacted a deputy who was barely a mile away and he was starting toward the Collins place at that moment.

  Libby thanked her nicely and cut off the phone.

  “Who put you up to this?” Jordan demanded of the man. “Tell me, or so help me, I’ll make sure you don’t get out of prison until you’re an old man!”

  “It was Miss Julie,” the young man sobbed. “I never done nothing like this in my life. My daddy works for her and he took some things out of her house. She said she’d turn him over to the police if I didn’t do this for her.”

  “She’d have turned him over anyway, you fool,” Jordan said coldly. “She was using you. Do you have any idea what the penalty is for arson?”

  He was still sobbing. “I was scared, Mr. Powell.”

  Jordan relented, but only a little. He looked up as the sound of a siren was heard coming closer.

  Libby opened the door of the truck and got out, just as a sheriff’s car came flying down the track and stopped just behind the truck.

  The deputy was Sammy Tibbs. They both knew him. He’d been in Libby’s class in high school.

  “What have you got, Jordan?” Sammy asked.

  “A would-be arsonist,” Jordan told him. “He’ll confess if you ask him.”

  “I caught him pouring gas on my back porch and I chased him with my tire tool. I almost had him when Jordan came along,” Libby said with a shy grin.

  “Whew,” Sammy whistled. “I hope I don’t ever run afoul of you,” he told her.

  “That makes two of us,” Jordan said, with a gentle smile for her.

  “I assume you’ll be pressing charges?” Sammy asked Libby as he handcuffed the young man, who was still out of breath.

  “You can bet real money on it,” Libby agreed. “And you’ll need to pick up Julie Merrill as well, because this man said she told him to do it.”

  Sammy’s hands froze on the handcuffs. “Julie Merrill? The state senator’s daughter?”

  “That’s exactly who I mean,” Libby replied. “She called and invited me over to lunch. Since she doesn’t like me, I got suspicious and came home instead, just in time to catch this weasel in the act.”

  “Is this true?” the deputy asked the man.

  “Mirandize him first,” Jordan suggested. “Just so there won’t be any loopholes.”

  “Good idea,” Sammy agreed, and read the suspect his rights.

  “Now, tell him,” Libby prodded, glaring at the man who’d been within a hair of burning her house down.

  The young man sighed as if the weight of the world was sitting on his shoulders. “Miss Merrill had something on my daddy, who works for her. She said if I’d set a fire on Miss Collins’s back steps, she’d forget all about it. She just wanted to scare Miss Collins is all. She didn’t tell me to burn the whole place down.”

  “Arson is arson,” Sammy replied. “Don’t touch anything,” he told Libby. “I’ll send our investigator back out there and call the state fire marshal. Arson is hard to prove, but this one’s going to be a walk in the park.”

  “Thanks, Sammy,” Libby said.

  He grinned. “What for? You caught him!”

  He put the scared suspect in the back of his car and sped off with a wave of his hand.

  “That was too damned close,” Jordan said, looking down at Libby with tormented eyes. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw you chasing him through the field with a tire iron! What if he’d been armed?”

  “He wasn’t,” she said. “Besides, he ran the minute I chased him, just like a black snake.”

  He pulled her into his arms and wrapped her up tight. There was a faint tremor in those strong arms.

  “You brave idiot,” he murmured into her neck. “Thank God he didn’t get the fire started first. I can see you running inside to grab all the sentimental items and save them. You’d have been burned alive.”

  She grimaced, because he was absolutely right. She’d have tried to save her mementos of her father and mother, at any cost.

  “Libby, I think we’d better get engaged,” he said suddenly.

  She was hallucinating. She said so.

  He pulled back from her, his eyes solemn. “You’re not hallucinating. If Julie realizes how serious this is between us, she’ll back off.”

  “She’s going to be in jail shortly, she’ll have to,” she pointed out.

  “They can afford bail until her hearing, even so,” he replied. “She’ll be out for blood. But if she hears about the engagement, it might be enough to make her think twice.”

  “I’m not afraid of her,” she said, although she really was.

  “Humor me,” he coaxed, bending to kiss her gently.

  She smiled under the warm, comforting feel of his hard mouth on her lips. “Well…”

  He nibbled her upper lip. “I’ll get you a ring,” he whispered.

  “What sort?”

  “What do you want?”

  “I like emeralds,” she whispered, standing on tiptoe to coax his mouth down again.

  “An emerald, then.”

  “Nobody would know?”

  He chuckled as he kissed her. “We might have to tell a few hundred people, just to make it believable. And we might actually have to get married, but that’s okay, isn’t it?”

  She blinked. “Get…married?”

  “That’s what the ring’s for, Libby,” he said against her warm mouth. “Advance notice.”

  “But…you’ve always said you never wanted to get married.”

  “I always said there’s the one woman a man can’t walk away from,” he added. He lifted his head and looked down at her, all the teasing gone. “I can’t walk away from you. The past few weeks have been pure hell.”

  Her eyes widened with unexpected delight.

  He traced her eyebrows with his forefinger. “I missed you,” he whispered. “It was like being cut apart.”

  “You wanted Julie,” she accused.

  He grimaced. “I wanted you to think about what was happening. You’ve been sheltered your whole life. Duke Wright’s wife was just like you. Then she married and had a child and got career-minded. That poor devil lives in hell because she didn’t know what she wanted until it was too late!”

  She searched his face quietly. “You think I’d want a career.”

  “I don’t know, Libby,” he bit off. He looked anguished. “I’m an all-or-nothing kind of man. I can’t just stick my toe in to test the water. I jump in headfirst.”

  He…loved her. She was stunned. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed, in all this time. Curt had seen it long before this. He’d tried to tell her. But she hadn’t believed that a man like Jordan could be serious about someone like her.

  Her lips fell apart with a husky sigh. She was on fire. She�
��d never dreamed that life could be so sweet. “I don’t want a career,” she said slowly.

  “What if you do, someday?” he persisted.

  She reached up and traced his firm, jutting chin with her fingertips. “I’m twenty-four years old, Jordan,” she said. “If I don’t know my own mind by now, I never will.”

  He still looked undecided.

  She put both hands flat on his shirt. Under it, she could feel the muted thunder of his heartbeat. “Why don’t we go to a movie?” she asked.

  He seemed to relax. He smiled. “We could grab a hamburger for lunch and talk about it,” he prompted.

  “Okay.”

  “Then we’ll go by the sheriff’s department and you can write out a statement,” he added.

  She grimaced. “I guess I’ll have to.”

  He nodded. “So will I.” His eyes narrowed. “I wish I could see the look on Julie’s face when the deputy sheriff pulls up in her driveway.”

  “I imagine she’ll be surprised,” Libby replied.

  Surprised was an understatement. Julie Merrill gaped at the young man in the deputy sheriff’s uniform.

  “You’re joking,” she said haughtily. “I…I had nothing to do with any attempted arson!”

  “We have a man in custody who’ll swear to it,” he replied. “You can come peacefully or you can go out the door in handcuffs,” he added, still pleasant and respectful. “Your choice, Miss Merrill.”

  She let out a harsh breath. “This is outrageous!”

  “What’s going on out here?” Her father, the state senator, came into the hall, weaving a little, and blinked when he saw the deputy. “What’s he doing here?” he murmured.

  “Your daughter is under arrest, senator,” he was told as the deputy suddenly turned Julie around and cuffed her with professional dexterity. “For conspiracy to commit arson.”

  “Arson?” The senator blinked. “Julie?”

  “She sent a man to burn down the Collins place,” he was told. “We have two eyewitnesses, as well.”

  The senator gaped at his daughter. “I told you to leave that woman alone,” he said, shaking his finger at her. “I told you Jordan would get involved if you didn’t! You’ve cost me the election! Everybody around here will go to the polls Tuesday and vote for Calhoun Ballenger! You’ve ruined me!”

  “Oh, no, sir, she hasn’t,” the deputy assured him with a grin. “Your nephew, the mayor, did that, by persecuting two police officers who were just doing their jobs.” The smile faded. “You’re going to see Monday night just how much hot water you’ve jumped into. That disciplinary hearing is going to be remembered for the next century in Jacobsville.”

  “Where are you taking my daughter?” the senator snorted.

  “To jail, to be booked. You can call your attorney and arrange for a bail hearing whenever you like,” the deputy added, with a speaking glance at the older man’s condition. “If you’re able.”

  “I’ll call my own attorney,” Julie said hotly. “Then I’ll sue you for false arrest!”

  “You’re welcome to try,” the deputy said. “Come along, Miss Merrill.”

  “Daddy, do try to sober up!” Julie said scathingly.

  “What would be the point?” the senator replied. “Life was so good when I didn’t know all about you, Julie. When I thought you were a sweet, kind, innocent woman like your mother…” He closed his eyes. “You killed that girl!”

  “I did not! Think what you’re saying!” Julie yelled at him.

  Tears poured down his cheeks. “She died in my arms…”

  “Let’s go,” the deputy said, tugging Julie Merrill out the door. He closed it on the sobbing politician.

  Julie Merrill was lodged in the county jail until her bail hearing the following Monday morning. Meanwhile, Jordan and Libby had given their statements and the would-be arsonist was singing like a canary bird.

  The disciplinary hearing for Chief Grier’s two police officers was Monday night at the city council meeting.

  It didn’t take long. Within thirty minutes, the council had finished its usual business, Grier’s officers were cleared of any misconduct, and the surprise guests at the hearing had Jacobsville buzzing for weeks afterward.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jordan drove Libby to his house in a warm silence. He led her into the big, elegant living room and closed the door behind them.

  “Want something to drink?” he asked, moving to a pitcher of iced tea that Amie had apparently left for them, along with a plate of homemade cake, covered with foil. “And a piece of pound cake?”

  “I’d love that,” she agreed.

  He poured tea into two glasses and handed them to her, along with doilies to protect the coffee table from spots. He put cake onto two plates, with forks, and brought them along. But as he bent over the coffee table, he obscured Libby’s plate. When he sat down beside her, there was a beautiful emerald solitaire, set in gold, lying on her piece of cake.

  “Look at that,” he exclaimed with twinkling dark eyes. “Why, it’s an engagement ring! I wonder who could have put it there?” he drawled.

  She picked it up, breathless. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Isn’t it?” he mused. “Why don’t you try it on? If it fits,” he added slyly, “you might turn into a fairy princess and get your own true prince as a prize!”

  She smiled through her breathless delight. “Think so?”

  “Darlin’, I can almost guarantee it,” he replied tenderly. “Want to give it a shot?”

  He seemed to hold his breath while he waited for her reply. She had to fight tears. It was the most poignant moment of her entire life.

  “Why don’t you put it on for me?” she asked finally, watching him lift the ring and slide it onto her ring finger with something like relief.

  “How about that?” he murmured dryly. “It’s a perfect fit. Almost as if it were made just for you,” he added.

  She looked up at him and all the humor went out of his face. He held her small hand in his big one and searched her eyes.

  “You love emeralds. I bought this months ago and stuck it in a drawer while I tried to decide whether or not it would be suicide to propose to you. Duke Wright’s situation made me uncertain. I was afraid you hadn’t seen enough of the world, or life, to be able to settle down here in Jacobsville. I was afraid to take a chance.”

  She moved a step closer. “But you finally did.”

  He cupped her face in his big, warm hands. “Yes. When I realized that I was spending time with Julie just to keep you at bay. If she’d been a better sort of person, it would have been a low thing to do. I was flattered at her interest and the company I got to keep. But I felt like a traitor when she started insulting you in public. I was too wrapped up in my own uncertainties to do what I should have done.”

  “Which was what?” she asked softly.

  He bent to her soft mouth. “I should have realized that if you really love someone, everything works out.” He kissed her tenderly. “I should have told you how I felt and given you a chance to spread your wings if you wanted to. I could have waited while you decided what sort of future you wanted.”

  She still couldn’t believe that he didn’t know how she felt. “I was crazy about you,” she whispered huskily. “Everybody knew it except you.” She reached up and linked her arms around his neck. “Duke’s wife wasn’t like me, Jordan,” she added, searching his dark eyes. “She lived with a domineering father and a deeply religious mother. They taught her that a woman’s role in life was to marry and obey her husband. She’d always done what they told her to do. But after she married Duke, she ran wild, probably giving vent to all those feelings of suffocated restriction she’d endured all her life. Getting pregnant on her wedding night was a big mistake for both of them, because then she really felt trapped.” She took a deep breath. “If Duke hadn’t rushed her into it, she’d have gone off and found her career and come back to him when she knew what she really wanted. It was a tragedy in th
e making from the very beginning.”

  “She didn’t love him enough,” he murmured.

  “He didn’t love her enough,” she countered. “He got her pregnant, thinking it would hold her.”

  He sighed. “I want children,” he said softly. “But not right away. We need time to get to know each other before we start a family, don’t we?”

  She smiled. “See? You ask me about things. You don’t order me around. Duke was exactly the opposite.” She traced his mouth with her fingertips. “That’s why I stopped going out with him. He never asked me what I wanted to do, even what I wanted to eat when we went out together. He actually ordered meals for me before I could say what I liked.” She glowered. “He ordered me liver and onions and I never went out with him again.”

  He lifted an eyebrow and grinned. “Darlin’, I swear on my horse that I will never order you liver and onions.” He crossed his heart.

  He was so handsome when he grinned like that. Her heart expanded like a balloon with pure happiness. “Actually,” she whispered, lifting up to him. “I’d even eat liver and onions for you.”

  “The real test of love,” he agreed, gathering her up hungrily. “And I’d eat squash for you,” he offered.

  She smiled under the slow, sweet pressure of his mouth. Amie said he’d actually dumped a squash casserole in the middle of the living room carpet to make the point that he never wanted it again.

  “This is nice,” he murmured, lifting her completely off the floor. “But I can do better.”

  “Can you really?” she whispered, biting softly at his full lower lip. “Show me!”

  He laughed, even though his body was making emphatic statements about how little time there was left for teasing. He was burning.

  He put her down on the sofa and crushed her into it with the warm, hard length of his body.

  “Jordan,” she whispered breathlessly when he eased between her long legs.

  “Don’t panic,” he said against her lips. “Amie’s a scream away. Lift up.”

  She did, and he unfastened the bra and pushed it out of the way under her blouse. He deepened the kiss slowly, seductively, while his lean hands discovered the soft warmth of her bare breasts in a heated silence.