by Vonna Harper
No! The past was that, the past. She’d kept it there for years; it had no business rearing its head today.
Today she was sharing her living room with a man who’d risked his life taking care of Ona. A good man?
“What are you thinking?”
Turning, she faced Maco. A cold, sharp sensation trailed down her spine to remind her that she’d turned her back on the unknown beyond her walls. Then, irritated at herself for getting unnerved again, she focused on the man who’d gone from stranger to something she couldn’t define but needed to.
“Just a flashback to what happened out there. I’ll get over it.”
Nodding, he leaned forward. “Do you live here by yourself?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because I’m not comfortable leaving if you’re going to be alone.”
Her adult life had been about stomping her chaotic childhood into submission and leaving the scared kid she’d once been behind. She took pride in what she’d accomplished, and if there were times when middle-of-the-night noises kept her awake, well, such was the price of being alive. “Rachele will be here before long.”
“Rachele?”
“She works for me. I don’t think there’s anything she can’t tackle. Among her attributes, she knows karate.”
“Impressive. If you ask, will she spend the night?”
“She has, like when we’re expecting puppies or a dog’s sick.” He was still leaning forward studying her, making her wish she could sink all the way into her too-big shirt. At the same time, she couldn’t help wondering what his fingers on her breasts would feel like.
“I take it you don’t own a weapon,” Maco said.
“No, of course not.”
“I wish you did. Why not? Given how far out you live, I’m surprised.”
“I hate guns, all right. One of my hang-ups.” For a good reason.
“One you might have to get over.”
“Whether I do or don’t is up to me. Look, no one’s going to storm in here.” She wasn’t sure which of them she was trying to reassure. “What happened to Ona has to be what the deputy said, a darn fool poacher.”
Not looking convinced, Maco stood and walked over to her, bringing heat and electricity with him. Was he married, committed to some woman?
“I’m going to give you my cell phone number,” he said as she was trying to think of a way to ask about his marital status. “I’ll call you this evening, and I want you to call me if you hear or see anything out of the ordinary.”
“The sheriff’s department—”
“Doesn’t have the manpower.”
He wanted to protect her, and even as she vowed to face her own damnable and most likely irrational fears, his concern felt good. More than good.
Stay. Touch me. Bring me to life. Remind me of what it is to be a woman.
“When are you going to the vet?” he asked.
Shaken by the weight of her need, she stared at the wall clock longer than necessary. “As soon as Rachele gets here, which will be in a few minutes. I never leave the facility unmanned.”
“Just like me and my place. Look, I hate doing this, but I have to leave the moment Rachele arrives.”
“You don’t have to wait.”
“I want to. Tomorrow?”
Tomorrow. She’d see him then. And when she did, she’d have put Ona’s shooting into perspective. She’d present herself as what she was, a professional.
Standing as tall as her five foot, three inches allowed, she held out her hand. “I’m looking forward to it, and again I appreciate everything you did.”
Nodding, he closed his fingers around hers, squeezing gently and holding on. Looking up into his eyes she was struck by the not-so-simple fact that they’d shared something intense. “I’m glad to meet you, Shari Afton,” he said.
Stay. If I beg, will you peel my clothes off me? Tell me I’m beautiful. Desirable. That you want to have sex with me?
4
Exiting her dusty Bronco, Shari went around to the other side so she could open the door and let Ona out. The dog had been dozing on a blanket but was now sitting up looking only mildly interested in the proceedings. “We’re home, your majesty,” Shari informed Ona. “I’m not buying that look of yours. You’re perfectly capable of getting out on your own.”
After licking Shari’s offered hand, Ona stood and crawled down. Her back legs wobbled a bit but she easily straightened. “You’re one lucky girl, either that or incredibly hardheaded. Home look as good to you as it does to me?”
By way of answer, Ona leaned against Shari’s leg, prompting Shari to gently stroke the broad back. Before she could reach into the Bronco for her purse, a sharp sound stopped her. She froze, then relaxed as Rachele’s whistle registered. After a squeaky yawn, Ona took off at a trot in the direction of the house where the sound had come from. After retrieving her purse, Shari followed her dog, studying her surroundings as she did. Darn it, how long would it take for her to put the, as far as she knew, accidental shooting behind her? She’d left for the vet’s office while the sheriff’s officer was still here, but he’d called her cell phone to inform her that he’d seen nothing.
“I’m sorry it happened,” he’d said. “The older generation of hunters aren’t going to change their thinking. Fortunately we’re reaching their children and grandchildren.”
“The old girl looks great,” Rachele said from where she stood on the front porch, indicating Ona, who’d already gone inside. “What did the vet say?”
Shari waited until they’d closed the front door behind them. The cooler indoor air felt good. “X-rays show a hairline crack in her skull, but it’ll heal itself. Doc gave me a painkiller to put in her food for a few days. It’ll make her a little lethargic.”
Rachele’s laugh revealed perfect teeth, except for a twisted eyetooth, compliments of a mid–high school altercation Rachele had apparently won. “Ona is already laid-back. How will we know the difference?”
“Good question.”
“Have you told your aunt and uncle?”
“No. I thought about it, but you know how my aunt is.”
“Overprotective. At least she’d like to be.”
“Yes, she would, with both of us.”
“She’s so sweet it’s impossible to get mad at her. She’s always going to see anyone younger than her as a child.”
That wasn’t entirely true. The truth was, Aunt Robynn had taken it upon herself to be the mother her sister-in-law had been incapable of being. Even though her niece was now a grown woman, Aunt Robynn hadn’t stopped trying to be protective. Shari loved her aunt and uncle for understanding why she’d kept the name her mother had given her back when the two of them were on the run. She might not have been born Shari Afton, but she’d answered to it for so long it felt much more natural than Heather Stevens. As far as she was concerned, Heather belonged in the past. No one beyond her aunt and uncle knew that.
Except for the one person she’d never have to see again.
Shari sniffed. “What are you cooking?”
“There’s a stew in the slow cooker. I figured you’d appreciate it.”
“Smells wonderful.” Once again the weight of what she’d been through today plowed into her, prompting her to hug her friend and employee. Darn Rachele. Was there an ounce of fat on her physically fit body? “That’s the kind of excitement I can do without. Not only did it play havoc with my plans for the day, I’m still shook.”
Rachele hugged her back. “So am I, and I wasn’t here. Damn. I’d give anything to get my hands on the bastard idiot who did that to one of the world’s good dogs. By the time I’m done with him, there wouldn’t be anything left.”
Shari had watched Rachele compete in a karate exhibition and had no doubt she could inflict serious injury. “I wouldn’t try to stop you.”
“Good thing, because you couldn’t.”
They’d been standing in the living room. Now Rachele led the way into the kitchen, he
r toned, five-foot-four-inch frame looking feminine under her tight jeans and peasant blouse. As usual, Rachele had pulled her long auburn hair into a ponytail and hadn’t bothered with makeup. Taking their physical appearance for granted was certainly something the two women had in common. Ona was already in the kitchen and staring expectantly at the adjacent storage room where dog food was kept.
Laughing, Rachele went about filling Ona’s dish while Shari pulled the pill bottle out of her purse. After dropping a pill in the dish, she watched Ona crunch her way through the dry food formulated for mature dogs. If Ona was aware of the pill, it didn’t slow her down.
“So?”
Looking up, she saw that Rachele had climbed onto one of the two bar stools and rested her elbows on the counter.
“So, what?”
“I only caught a glimpse of today’s hero, but between you and me, that’s one hunk. What does he need guard dogs for anyway?”
“Didn’t I introduce you? I thought—”
Rachele winked. “You’re forgiven. Drooling the way you were, I can see why you forgot your manners.”
“I wasn’t drooling. I—”
“I’m teasing.” Rachele held up a hand. “Filling me in on what happened was more important than getting me and what’s his name to shake hands before he took off. Who is he, anyway?”
“Maco Durant, the man who’s interested in a couple of the guard dogs. He and his brother own the construction firm that’s going to be putting in the new dam.”
Rachele turned serious. “Really?”
“Is there something wrong?”
“I don’t know.” She drew out the words. “Certain people sure don’t want it to happen.” Studying Ona, she chewed on the inside of her mouth.
“What are you thinking?”
“Nothing. Just, well, people sometimes do crazy things. I just don’t want good dogs caught in the middle of it.”
Instinct told Shari that her employee’s thoughts went deeper than that, but she couldn’t force her to say more than she already had.
“Speaking of men who build dams and other things for a living,” Rachele said, “we could have done a hell of a lot worse.”
Prompted by her unexpectedly weary and weak legs, Shari hoisted herself onto the other bar stool and again faced Rachele. Every time she studied the other woman’s physique, she vowed to work out more. Too bad she couldn’t figure out a way to cram more hours into the day. Besides, it wasn’t as if she spent her time sitting behind a desk. “We could have done worse?” she echoed. “What are you talking about?”
“If we’re going to pick up a new customer, why shouldn’t it be a virile cowboy?” She winked but didn’t smile. “He wouldn’t happen to have a twin, would he?”
Wondering if Rachele was deliberately turning the conversation in another direction, Shari rubbed her right thigh. “He mentioned a brother who’s his partner.”
“Hmm. If the sibling’s as good-looking as Maco, this could be promising, but only if said sibling is unattached and determined to stay that way.”
Rachele was closed-mouthed about her personal life. One thing she’d made clear—she wasn’t interested in a committed relationship. Shari hadn’t gotten the impression Rachele slept around, just that she intended to keep the fence she’d built around her personal space in place. Someone without her own barriers might not have picked up on that, but Shari understood.
“For the record,” Rachele said, her tone even quieter, “did you get any hits on Maco’s marital status?”
“It didn’t come up.” Closing her eyes, Shari made a conscious decision to stop second-guessing Rachele and pulled up her last image of Maco. He’d been getting back into his Jeep with his attention split between her land and her. She’d gotten the impression he was debating whether he should stay. Instead of assuring him that she was fine, her attention had riveted on strong legs and shoulders a woman could drape herself over.
Damn it, she had to get a grip!
“Come clean. He’s easy on the eyes, right?”
“Easy?” She again locked her gaze with Rachele’s. “Unsettling’s more like it. The whole cow puncher persona is unique.”
“Yeah, at least around here, but you have to admit he pulls it off.”
“Yes, he does.” She swallowed. “Very well.”
“What’s this? You’re admitting he turned you on?”
“I didn’t say—”
“You don’t have to. I’ve been working for you for the better part of a year and I’ve yet to see a man around. Near as I’ve figured you’re straight, so either you’ve got some stud tucked away or your nights are as, ah, unsatisfying as mine most of the time.”
Rachele pulled no punches. She called a spade a spade, which, Shari sometimes wondered, might be a cover-up for a deep-seated vulnerability.
“I have no time for a man,” she said. “Getting my business off the ground—”
“Yeah, I know about your eighteen-hour days. I’m talking about nights.”
Nights called for sex toys and masturbating and rarely, when loneliness jumped out of the shadows and bit her, a few tears. “I’m fine.”
“Sure you are. As long as you keep the male sex at arm’s length, you don’t have to worry.”
“Worry?” The word tasted bitter.
“About some man wanting to know about your past.”
Shari got up, walked over to the cupboard, took out two glasses, and filled them with ice and water. After handing one to Rachele, she downed half of hers. “I don’t go there,” she said. “Finished business.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
Shari was watering the boarding dogs when her cell phone vibrated. Pulling it out of her picket, she recognized the number Maco had given her. “Hello,” she said around the tightness in her throat.
“It’s me, Maco.”
“I know.”
“Oh. Modern technology, no privacy left?”
“You’ve called several times. I recognized the number.”
“All right. I’ll buy that. Look, I was wondering what you heard from the vet.”
Of course. He was concerned about Ona, nothing personal. “She has a concussion, but she’ll be all right.”
“That’s a relief. What about you?”
She usually kept her cell on vibrate to cut down on the dogs’ reasons to bark. The same reasoning held for why she now spoke softly. As for why she held the phone tight against her ear while trying to imagine where Maco was, what he was looking at, whether he’d thought of her earlier—“Thanks for asking, but I’m fine. Nothing like taking care of the inmates to clear my mind.”
“No sense that someone’s around who shouldn’t be?”
At the moment, she was in the kennel. Although each enclosure in the double rows under a common roof had an opening to the outside, she couldn’t see what was out there. When she was designing the structure, assuring the dogs had a view of their corner of the world had been more important than having one herself. Now, acknowledging a touch of claustrophobia, she wondered if she’d made a mistake. Leaving the water dish she’d been filling, she walked to the end of the kennel and opened the door. Fresh air blew in. “It’s fine.”
“So everything’s fine? Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Rachele’s still there, right? And she’ll be spending the night?”
Damn but the man had a deep, low, slow voice. One capable of carving heat through her. “Yes.” She struggled to think of something else to say but nothing surfaced.
“Good. Good. I can tell you’re busy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Shaking her head for maybe having given too much away, she tucked the cell into her pocket. Then, instead of going back to rinsing water bowls, she ran her fingers over her thighs while late afternoon sun warmed her to maybe dangerous levels. Her vision blurred. She barely heard the dogs’ impatient yips. The heat that had accompanied his voice showed no sign of cooli
ng. Yet, as off balance as she felt, she was in no hurry to shake herself loose from the sensation.
What if he was here and his hands were on her? His body pressed against hers. Naked flesh searing naked flesh.
Leading the way to her bedroom.
Shari’s bedroom barely qualified as one because she’d turned the room the realtor had labeled the master into her office. She had no need for more than a double bed. There was room for a single fake-wood nightstand and dresser, both compliments of her aunt and uncle when they’d recently remodeled. The three serviceable pieces of furniture filled the space.
According to the illuminated clock on the nightstand, it was a little after two in the morning. She’d finally fallen asleep a little after midnight, but it hadn’t lasted. Now, cloaked in darkness, she gave up trying to sink under again. Yet another byproduct of her far-from-stable upbringing was the ability to awaken instantly.
Another night she probably would have gotten up and read. Instead, she inhaled the crisp air coming in her open window. Fresh air was vital to her. Unless it was well under freezing, she kept the small, high window over her headboard open. As a result of what had happened during the day, she’d debated closing it when she went to bed, but damn it, she wasn’t going to cave! Besides, an average-sized man would get stuck.
Wouldn’t Rachele love having someone to pummel at will.
Again dismissing safety matters, she relaxed or rather she tried to. Along with wakefulness had come renewed awareness of her body. Sighing, she slid her hands under the mid-thigh-length cotton cover-up she slept in. She lay on her back staring at the ceiling she couldn’t see. When she’d first roused, her head had been turned toward the window, but she didn’t want to do that anymore.
There was nothing out there. The dogs, despite being locked in the kennel for the night, would have let her know if someone had driven on to her property. Besides, Rachele was on the hide-a-bed in the office and Ona held down the living room couch.
Teeth clenched against her too-active mind, she nevertheless pressed her palms against her belly. Her hip bones were prominent, something she seldom thought about. Tonight, however, as her fingers slid lower, she wondered if Maco preferred women with a little more meat on their bones.
