With Family In Mind (Saddle Falls Book 1)

by Sharon De Vita

  “I guess I should be impressed by your reputation and credentials.” He was, but wasn’t about to admit it, not after the hard time he’d given her yesterday. “Rebecca,” he said carefully, wanting to draw her out of the icy place she was in. “If you think I’d agree to help you write a story about my family without checking you out thoroughly, you’re not the reporter I think you are.”

  “You said you’d trust me,” she accused, wishing she wasn’t so panicky.

  “I did,” he said with a nod. “I also agreed to help you, but you agreed to a few things as well, remember?” One brow rose and he studied her carefully, wondering why she seemed so distressed. If she was truly on the level, what difference did it make if he found out more about her? She should have expected it. “I never make a deal with anyone without checking them out thoroughly first. It’s a Ryan family trait. In my experience a deal’s only as good as the parties who make it.”

  “And are you satisfied I’m on the level, and exactly who and what I said I was?”

  He nodded slowly. “You’re who you said you were, but it seems you left out a few details.”

  She was probably too young to have a heart attack, she decided, but was almost certain this man just might give her one.

  “Such as?” she challenged.

  “Why don’t we discuss it over dinner?” He took her hand before she could refuse, wanting to break the tension between them and get back on friendlier ground. “You eat, and I’ll have a beer. You can have one, too.”

  “I don’t drink beer,” she said, with such a haughty air, he laughed.

  “Somehow I didn’t think you were the beer guzzling type,” he said, still drawing her with him, whether she wanted to go or not. “I brought some wine, a light chardonnay. It’s a nice night. We can sit out on the porch while you eat. I’ve got some questions for you and I’m sure now that you’ve started your research you have some questions, as well.”

  She frowned, not certain she wanted to spend part of the evening alone with him. “I do, but Jake, I don’t think this is a good idea—”

  “Eating is always a good idea.” He picked up the cooler with one hand, still holding on to her with the other. “I’m just going to keep you company while you eat. No harm in that.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Grab your plate, there.” He nodded toward the foil-wrapped plate on the table.

  She did have questions for him, but she wasn’t certain she liked the way he was…handling her. It felt as if she was deliberately being manipulated, and she didn’t like it.

  He hadn’t bothered to close the main door, and now kicked the screen door open, leading her out to the porch.

  With her plate in her hand, and Jake holding the other, Rebecca came to a stop. “My God, I never realized how beautiful it was out here.” Her gaze drifted about her, touching on the few scattered trees shifting slightly in the breeze, silhouetted by the moon.

  “I love it,” he said simply, setting the cooler on the porch, then tugging her down on the top step. Jake glanced around as he took her plate and pulled the foil off. “There’s a peacefulness about this place,” he said quietly, seeing it through her eyes. “Just something about it that’s always seemed perfect to me.” He glanced at her. “It’s the only place I’m truly comfortable.” He shrugged. “It’s home.”

  He handed her the plate, and Rebecca was grateful for the dark and something to do with her hands, so he couldn’t see the sudden spate of tears his words brought on.

  Home.

  The ache came quick and fast, stunning her. Surreptitiously, she slipped her hand under her glasses to wipe the tears away. With a sigh, she removed her glasses, setting them down on the porch next to her as she glanced around again.

  Home.

  She understood the context of home, understood, too, the peacefulness he was talking about. It was a feeling of contentment that came from knowing you were where you belonged.

  She also understood the importance home held for Jake, because this was the only place that had ever felt like her home, as well.

  She’d almost forgotten how much she’d loved this place as a child.

  It was in the past, she scolded herself, over and done with. She was no longer a child, she had grown up, and there was no point getting lost in wistful memories that would serve no useful purpose.

  “I hope you’re hungry.” Jake reached into the cooler, pulled out a beer and popped the cap off, setting it on the porch floor. Then he reached for the wine cooling in the bottom. He pulled out a wineglass, which had her lifting her brow in surprise.

  “I’m starved,” she admitted frankly. “And obviously you came prepared.”

  He grinned. “Once a Boy Scout, always a Boy Scout.” Digging into his jeans pocket, he pulled out a small Swiss Army knife and proceeded to open the wine, setting it on the porch as well. “Eat.” He nodded toward her plate, reaching into the cooler once again for silverware wrapped in a napkin. “There’s steak grilled by Tommy, some fresh green beans and potato salad. Homemade by Mrs. Taylor.”

  Rebecca dug in, tasting the potato salad and almost swooning at the fabulous flavor. “Obviously, Mrs. Taylor’s a terrific cook.”

  “One of the best.” Leaning back on his elbows, Jake stretched his legs out. “So, Rebecca St. John, tell me about yourself.”

  She tried not to freeze, then merely shrugged. The porch light bathed him in a warm, golden glow that glinted off his black hair and tanned skin, making him look far too appealing. She averted her gaze, staring at her plate. “Exactly what would you like to know?”

  “You’re from Reno, and from what I understand, you’ve worked for the Reno Sun for years, correct?”

  Her mouth full, she nodded. “Yes.” She swallowed, wiped her mouth with her napkin, then daintily folded it in her lap. “After my graduation, and my internship, the editor in chief offered me a full-time position.” She pretended to be intensely interested in what was on her plate. “By then I knew writing, reporting, was what I wanted to do, and I’ve done it ever since.”

  “And you’ve been pretty darn good at it, from what I hear.” He smiled, lifting her glass of wine to her. Their fingers brushed when she took it, sending a heated thrill all the way through her. “You’ve won just about every major writing award in the state. Even been nominated for some national awards for your stories.”

  “Is that a question or an accusation?” she asked, sipping her wine.

  “Neither. Just a statement.” He studied her for a moment. “You have a stellar reputation and are known for being honest, ethical and always getting to the bottom of a story.” Which was why he was so worried.

  “I told you that yesterday,” she said. “But apparently you didn’t believe me, did you?” It hurt a bit that he didn’t trust her, at least not entirely, no matter what he’d said before.

  “It’s not that I didn’t believe you, Rebecca, but you know my history and how I feel about reporters.” He shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. “You’re obviously not any kind of reporter I’m used to.”

  “Obviously.” Finishing off the potato salad on her plate, Rebecca dug into her steak. It was cooked to perfection and still warm enough to be enjoyed.

  “So tell me, what is a reporter of your caliber, with your credentials, doing working in a small town like Saddle Falls?”

  Her appetite vanished, and she set her plate down on the porch, pausing to wipe her mouth with the napkin again. “I’m not actually working here, at least not in the way you make it seem.”

  He shrugged. “Looks that way to me. You said you were working for Edmund Barker. He confirmed that you are.” Jake grinned when her head came up and her gaze narrowed suspiciously on him. “Yeah, I checked, Rebecca. It would have been reckless of me not to, not with what I’ve got at stake.”

  She took a slow, deep breath. “I understand that, Jake. But I told you I don’t make a habit of lying.” She was struggling not to get annoyed.

  “Yeah, I k
now,” he acknowledged. “But still, I’m curious. What are you doing in Saddle Falls? Why here?” He glanced around. “What’s so special about this town? Granted, I think it’s kind of special, but it’s hardly the kind of place you’re going to find any real big news items, at least not the kind you write about.” Unless she planned to exploit the Ryans, he thought, struggling to push the idea away. He was trying to trust her, trying not to think about what the draw to Saddle Falls and his family was. He’d been struggling over this all day, struggling not to be suspicious or condemn her without giving her a chance to explain.

  She took a few moments to gather her thoughts. “Jake, do you remember when I told you I expected others to respect and value my privacy as I value theirs?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I try never to discuss my personal life when I’m working on a story. It tends to complicate things and confuse the issues.”

  “Yeah, I remember.” He also remembered she’d all but told him kissing him was unethical. It annoyed him no end. “So what you’re telling me is that it’s none of my business what you’re doing here in Saddle Falls? Is that it?” His suspicions grew when she merely smiled.

  “But it is my business,” he countered, trying not to make his voice harsh. “If you expect me to trust you, Rebecca, really trust you, then you have to give me some reason. And whether your reasons for being here are personal or not, I do think it’s my business, considering the circumstances.”

  He had a point, she realized, knowing he wouldn’t let it go unless she answered him. She took a slow sip of her wine, set the glass down, then laced her hands together in her lap.

  “Jake, I came to Saddle Falls to take care of some family business. I took a month-long leave from the newspaper. I’ve got quite a bit of personal time coming, so I thought I might as well use it now, to handle this situation. My editor and Edmund Barker happened to be old college chums. My boss asked me to look him up and say hello. I did, and when he learned I planned to be here for a couple of weeks, he asked if I’d be interested in tackling a freelance assignment for him.”

  “The Ryan family story for the jubilee celebration?” he asked. The information he’d learned about her had both calmed his fears and aroused them. It was, he decided, a double-edged sword.

  He was relieved that she was apparently not only on the up-and-up about who she was, but also very good at what she did.

  But he couldn’t stop wondering why she’d chosen his family to write about. He knew he wouldn’t rest until he found out the truth.

  Rebecca nodded. “Yeah, the Saddle Falls fiftieth anniversary. It sounded like a fairly interesting story, and I thought it would be a nice change of pace. I haven’t done a family history in a long time. After doing a bit of initial research, getting some background on your family, I realized this had the kind of potential to be a terrific story.”

  Jake looked at her coolly, ignoring the fragility he sensed and saw in her. Ignoring the fact that she wore that heart-tugging, vulnerable expression once again. He pushed as he wouldn’t have pushed on any other issue simply because it was important, and involved the safety and protection of his family.

  “So tell me, Rebecca, how much did my brother Jesse have to do with your decision to tackle this story?” A muscle in his jaw tensed, and his fingers tightened painfully on his bottle of beer. “How much did Jesse’s disappearance have to do with your desire to dig and pry, and rehash our personal tragedy on the front pages of the newspaper for the entertainment and consumption of a nosy public? How much, Rebecca? Exactly how much?”

  Chapter Six

  Rebecca was almost certain her pulse had stopped. Wishing her hands were steadier than her heart, she lifted her wineglass, prayed she wouldn’t bobble it, then took a slow sip before looking at Jake over the rim, forcing herself to hold his gaze.

  On some level she understood his anger, his suspicion, but that didn’t mean it was warranted.

  “I’m not going to say your brother’s disappearance wasn’t a factor in my decision, Jake,” she said slowly, aware of the intensity of his gaze.

  It was the first time they’d actually spoken about Jesse or acknowledged what had happened. And she knew they were now on shaky ground.

  She had to tread carefully, measure her words so that she didn’t let on how important this part of his family history actually was to her being here or doing this story. The last thing she wanted to do was scare Jake and have him cut off all access. She wasn’t really lying to him, she reasoned, she was telling him the absolute truth, just not all of it.

  But, she wondered, was that a lie by omission?

  “But if you’re asking me if I took this story so I can exploit the fact that your younger brother disappeared twenty years ago, that I plan to publish all the gory details for the entertainment of others, to appease their curiosity and interest, the answer is no.” Her voice was firm and cool. “Absolutely not.” She was on solid ground now, professional ground. Much easier to deal with than anything personal.

  She let a long moment of silence pass before she continued. “I have no intention of publicizing or sensationalizing any part of your brother’s disappearance, nor of taking advantage of your family’s trust or sensationalizing their tragedy.” She hesitated, glancing down at her wine, then back up at him, unaware that her eyes had gone cold, icy-cold. “Jesse’s disappearance is part of the Ryan family history, but it’s not all of it, Jake.” Her insides were trembling, but she forced herself to hold his gaze. “There’s much more to the family than your brother’s disappearance.” Deliberately, she made her voice dispassionate, professional. She was a reporter now, not the lonely little girl looking for personal answers that had eluded her for most of her lifetime.

  “Your brother’s disappearance is not going to be the focus of my story, Jake, if that’s what you’re asking me. It’s merely one small part in the whole picture of the Ryan history.” She tried to focus on relaxing, on not letting her nervousness show. There was nothing to be nervous about, she told herself, then realized she’d been incredibly nervous from the moment she’d arrived in Saddle Falls.

  Perhaps she was losing her objectivity, she thought with another flash of worry, biting her lip. For a reporter, it was the kiss of death, and it frightened the daylights out of her. Objectivity, emotional detachment, were a must in order to see things clearly. Without either, she was no good to herself, the newspaper or her subjects.

  Rebecca sighed wearily. Who was she kidding? This was nothing but an emotional situation, simply because this story had been personal from the moment she’d returned to Saddle Falls. Why hadn’t she realized it would be like this? She’d allowed herself to be blindsided, something that had never happened before. She was far too meticulous about her work, far too professional.

  “Rebecca?”

  She forced herself to look at Jake. “Yes?”

  “Are you telling me the truth?” He was determined to be fair and give her the benefit of the doubt. For his grandfather’s sake; for the promise he’d made to Tommy.

  “Yes, Jake. I’m telling you the truth.” Rebecca held his searching gaze, unable to look away, aware that there was pain in his eyes, and something else— hope? And perhaps a grudging bit of trust? It made her heart ache and she didn’t know why. But she did know she could never do anything to damage that hope or trust.

  It was her turn to reach for his hand, in reassurance, she told herself, not wanting to give it any more significance than that.

  He simply stared at her, holding her hand, enjoying her touch, letting her words settle.

  “I believe you,” he finally said, realizing with some surprise that he did. He only hoped he wouldn’t live to regret it. “I believe that you will be fair and honorable with me, my family and with our story.”

  “Thank you, Jake.” Rebecca let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. “That means a lot to me.”

  “Can I ask you another question, Slick?” He’d linked h
is fingers with hers, and now glanced at their entwined hands. Hers was so small, so delicate compared to his.

  “Sure.” Feeling a bit more comfortable, as if she’d just passed some test, Rebecca flashed him a smile. Whenever she dropped into her professional mode, she was on firmer ground. It was the personal stuff that became so boggy and unsteady.

  And now that he was back to using that disgusting nickname he’d given her, he, too, was obviously on more comfortable ground.

  “What kind of family business brought you to Saddle Falls?” Cocking his head, he studied her, his gaze curious. “Getting a quickie divorce? Running from an overzealous lover?” All of those things would explain why she was so skittish around him. Why she seemed so stunned by the kiss they’d shared. He couldn’t seem to get it out of his mind. “Or is it something more sinister?”

  Her reason for being in Saddle Falls, for leaving Reno and her home, would be an important part of this puzzle, he thought, and would tell him a lot about her intentions and motivations.

  With a jolt, Jake realized he wanted to know more about her, needed to know. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, not since he’d kissed her yesterday. Not just about her career, but about her personally. It mattered suddenly, and he didn’t know why.

  “None of the above, Jake.” With her free hand, Rebecca reached for her wine again, wanting to soothe her suddenly dry throat before bringing her gaze to his, praying her voice was calm, steady. “I came here to bury my mother.”

  Her stunning words hung in the quiet night air for a moment, echoing in Jake’s numbed mind, and then his soft oath punctuated the air.

  “Rebecca, I’m sorry.” Embarrassment crawled over him like a bad rash, and Jake blew out a deep breath. “I didn’t know. I had no idea. I’m so sorry,” he said again, shaking his head in disgust.

  What was the matter with him? Had he lost all semblance of trust and civility? Did he have to doubt everyone’s motivations and intentions? See lies and betrayals around every corner?