Caught in the Crossfire

by Annette Broadrick

  "Mr. Crenshaw, huh," he growled in fake menace. He took her hand and pulled her around the corner from the patio and into the shadows of a large bush. Before she knew what he was up to, he cupped her face in his hands and said, "Guess I'm going to have to do something about your calling me mister." He lowered his lips to hers and pressed gently against them.

  Lindsey could have easily stepped away from him, but she discovered that she didn't want to. In fact, she went up on her toes and kissed him back. He made a slight sound and deepened the kiss.

  Dazed by the immediate assault on her emotions, Lindsey could only sigh with pleasure. She was no connoisseur of kissing, but in her opinion, Jared had mastered it. By the time he reluctantly lifted his head, her head was spinning.

  "What is my name?" he whispered.

  She smiled. "Jared."

  "That's right. Although I was hoping you might need more convincing."

  "Oh, I'm definitely convinced. I'll never think of you as Mr. Crenshaw again."

  He grinned. "Good. One of my goals accomplished."

  "One of them?"

  "You don't think I'm going to give away all my secrets, do you?"

  "Is this part of my learning the culture of Texas?"

  He burst into laughter. "You're too much, Lindsey Russell. I can't tell you how delighted I am you came to the party tonight."

  "I've enjoyed it." She looked around. "But don't you think we should stop hiding in the bushes?"

  "I suppose. If you insist."

  "I insist."

  He took her hand and pulled her close to him. "Let's get something to drink. I need to cool off a little." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "From the dancing, you know."

  "Of course," she said, hoping to sound innocent of his real meaning.

  They found a couple of lawn chairs after they got their drinks and sat facing the dancers. Lindsey glanced at the hacienda, amazed at its size.

  "Do you live here?" she asked.

  He looked at the house. "Probably the whole family could live here and seldom run into each other, but no, only my brother Jake and his wife live here now. Various Crenshaws have homes scattered all across our land, whether they work it or just live on it. Mom and Dad built a smaller place about five miles away several years ago. And if you follow the ranch road over there, there's a settlement of homes for all the workers. Some of them are descendants from the original families that worked for Jeremiah Calhoun, the founder of the clan.

  "I've been staying in one of the houses built for our married workers because it happened to be empty. It's plenty big for me, and furnished, which helps."

  "And I suppose you do your own cooking?" she asked, teasing him.

  "Not so you'd notice," he replied with a slow drawl.

  "You mentioned earlier that you've been working in Saudi Arabia. What will you do now?"

  "Rest. I help Jake around the ranch, just to keep my hand in. I love the place, I guess we all do, but I get too restless when I stay in one place too long." He shifted so that he could face her. "How about you? You said you'd gotten your degree. What do you intend to do with it?"

  With renewed excitement, she said, "Starting in January I'll be working at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City."

  "No kidding! How did you manage that right out of college?"

  "It's who you know, of course."

  "Your dad?"

  "Heavens, no. If he had his way I'd never leave home."

  "A little possessive, is he?"

  Lindsey was having trouble keeping her mind on their discussion. The look in his blue eyes suggested that he, too, was not paying much attention to their verbal communication. The expression of his heated gaze made it clear what he would prefer to be doing at the moment, which was why they were sitting in plain view of everyone, she was sure.

  If she felt a certain disappointment that he wouldn't be kissing her again, she had to agree that he'd made the right choice.

  "Dad's okay, but I don't particularly want to talk about him."

  He sipped his drink. "Me, either. I'd much rather talk about you."

  "Then you're going to be quickly bored because I've given you my entire life history in one evening."

  "Oh, I imagine there's a few things you've neglected to mention."

  "Such as?"

  "A fiancé, a boyfriend, maybe several?" He lifted his brows inquiringly.

  "Oh, is this where we swap stories about our love life?"

  "Not on your life. I just want to know if I'm poaching, that's all."

  "Poaching?" She shook her head. "Your Texas idioms sometimes catch me off guard."

  "And you're avoiding the question."

  She folded her hands and primly replied, "I am not dating anyone at the moment."

  "Good."

  "However, I don't intend to get serious about anyone for a long, long time."

  "Good," he repeated, and she burst into laughter. "So let me have your phone number and I'll be in touch. You need to learn something about your history here in the Lone Star State and I'm just the fella to teach you."

  She reached into her purse and found a piece of paper. After printing the numbers for her home phone and her cell phone, she handed it to him.

  He nodded, carefully folded it and put it in his wallet.

  * * *

  Later, when Lindsey and her father were on their way home, her dad said, "I was pleased to see you enjoying yourself tonight, sweetheart. I noticed one of the Crenshaw boys fairly monopolized you all evening. Which one was he? I get them confused."

  "Jared." She didn't want to talk. She wanted to close her eyes and relive the evening from the time Jared had first introduced himself.

  "Ah. He's the petroleum engineer, I believe."

  "Uh-huh."

  "Someone mentioned that Jared recently returned from the Middle East."

  "That's right."

  They drove for several miles in silence, each lost in thought, until her father broke the silence by saying, "You know, Lindsey, you could do a lot worse than to snag a Crenshaw. They have a great deal of influence in this state."

  She turned and looked at her father. The soft glow from the dashboard of the luxury car revealed his face enough for her to tell that he wasn't joking.

  Regardless, Lindsey tried to make light of his remark. "I only danced with Jared tonight, Dad. I didn't offer to have his baby." She blushed, though, at the thought.

  "Do you intend to see him again?"

  "Maybe. He said he'd call."

  "Good." Her father looked quite satisfied with her answer. Then she understood his pleased expression.

  "Whether or not I go out with Jared, I'm moving to Manhattan in January."

  He didn't say anything right away. When he did, he sounded casual. "Well, January's still a couple of months away. Lots can happen between now and then."

  She closed her eyes. She would be hearing variations on that theme until the day she moved to New York, so she might as well learn not to rise to the bait.

  One

  Three weeks later…

  Jared abruptly came awake at the sound of a crashing door.

  At that moment, he was aware of only two things—he had the mother of all hangovers, and the door to his bedroom had flown open hard enough to bounce off the wall.

  Since he lived alone, there was no reason for anyone to come charging into the room.

  He painfully squinted his eyes open and discovered that the pounding in his head was the least of his problems.

  This wasn't his bedroom.

  Where the hell was he? He stared at the lace-edged canopy above him before slowly moving his gaze around the rest of the room. His bedroom sure as hell didn't smell like flowers or contain this delicate furniture.

  He stared at a wall of shelves filled with fancy-dressed dolls before he closed his eyes again.

  Maybe the hangover was affecting his vision. He softly massaged his eyes, hoping to improve his sight. When he op
ened them again, he flinched.

  Two men stood just inside the doorway.

  Two very angry-looking men.

  That explained a lot. He was having a nightmare, that's what it was. He was in the midst of a dream where he went to bed in his own room and woke up in what looked to be a female's bedroom.

  If he wasn't dreaming, then he must have died and gone straight to hell. He could think of no other reason why his father would be standing by the doorway next to Senator Russell.

  Lindsey Russell's father.

  Lindsey Russell's father!

  What the—?

  Jared turned his head and then grabbed it before it tumbled off his shoulders. Somehow he should have known whom he would find, even though he was having great difficulty comprehending any of this.

  Lindsey Russell lay next to him, facing him, with one hand tucked beneath her cheek. How could she possibly be asleep after the racket their fathers had just made?

  There was no denying that he was in a heap of trouble. Big-time trouble. Whatever was going on—and he didn't have a clue what he was doing in Lindsey's bed—was going to be damn hard to explain.

  He knew what their visitors thought, of course—the same thing he would have thought in their place.

  At the moment, he could barely wrap his mind around the fact that at some point last night he must have gone to bed with Lindsey. How could that be? They'd been seeing each other, sure, but he'd known from the very beginning of their relationship that she wouldn't sleep with him. He'd continued to see her, anyway, willing to spend as much time with her as she would allow.

  He liked her. He liked her a lot. Hell, if she'd given him any sign that she would take the next step, he would have been all for it.

  Is that what happened last night?

  If so, why couldn't he remember any of it?

  He tried to recall the night before. He was fairly certain they hadn't planned to see each other. He'd worked with Jake all day doing hard, physical labor. As a matter of fact, his aching muscles this morning were already protesting against being used so strenuously.

  He recalled getting cleaned up at his place and going into town for something to eat.

  Jared scrubbed his hand roughly through his hair in an effort to make his brain wake up.

  While at the Mustang Bar & Grill in New Eden—the closest town to the ranch—he'd run into Matt and Denny, a couple of guys he'd grown up with. Once he was through with dinner, he'd decided to stay a while and shoot some pool with them.

  When did he start drinking heavily enough to cause such a painful morning after? Enough so that he couldn't remember the rest of the evening? Because he couldn't remember a single, solitary thing after that.

  All of this flashed through his mind in the time it took him to register where he was. He stared at the men, who stared back, looking at him as though he were pond scum.

  And why not? The situation couldn't have put him in a worse light.

  Jared pushed himself up, rested his elbows on his bent knees and held his head. "I can explain—" he said slowly, his voice the sound of a croaking bullfrog. He cleared his throat. "You see," he said, and then paused. He looked at his dad, who now leaned against the door jamb with his arms crossed and one booted foot across the other. Next, he glanced at Lindsey who had stirred at the sound of his voice. "Actually," he continued, "I have no idea how I got here or why I'm here."

  His gaze kept going back to Lindsey, who looked amazingly pretty first thing in the morning, her face slightly flushed with sleep, her dark hair tumbled around her shoulders and draped across her pillow.

  He forced his gaze back to the men.

  Joe lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, I think R.W. and I can figure out that last one without any explanation on your part," Joe drawled softly.

  Jared winced. He respected his father more than any man he knew, but the thing about his father was, the lower and softer his dad spoke, the angrier he was. And, oh boy, was Joe Crenshaw ever angry at this particular moment!

  Lindsey shifted and his gaze immediately sought her out. She sat up and held the covers to her shoulders, looking at him in sleepy astonishment, her eyes wide.

  "Jared?" she said, sounding incredulous. "What in the world are you doing here?"

  He cleared his throat again. "I—uh—was kind of hoping you could tell me."

  Only then did Lindsey become aware of the men at her door. "Oh, my gosh!" she said faintly, turning fiery red. "What's going on here?"

  He understood her stunned reaction perfectly since it mirrored his own. However, he was more bewildered than ever. Her shock was genuine. She was as surprised as he was to find them in bed together.

  And their situation certainly wasn't being helped by their fathers' presence.

  He reached toward her, trying to think of something to say, but his dad spoke first.

  "I suggest that you get dressed, Jared, and we'll deal with this later."

  Senator Russell spoke for the first time since they'd entered the room, his voice shaking with rage. "We'll deal with it now, Joe. The only thing that needs to be decided at the moment is a date for the wedding. And from the looks of things, it had better be soon!"

  "Marriage!" Jared yelped, then groaned and held his aching head.

  Lindsey stiffened and glared at the three men.

  "Absolutely not! I will not take part in any marriage, so don't even think about it." With regal dignity, Lindsey picked up her robe and pulled it on over her nightgown, tying it at her waist. Then she stood and walked across the room to her bathroom as though the men no longer existed.

  She closed the door quietly behind her.

  Jared had had enough of this farce. He swung his feet to the floor, causing his stomach to roil. Oh, just what he needed—to hurl, in addition to everything else that had happened.

  He dropped his head into his hands and groaned.

  Finally, he said, "I don't know what's going on here, or how I got here, but I swear to you both that I never touched her."

  "How do you know what you did if you don't remember how you got here?" Lindsey's father said with a sneer.

  Jared straightened and met the man's gaze. "Because I wouldn't take advantage of Lindsey in that way. I know that. She knows that. Besides, you heard her. She was just as surprised as I am to find me here." He paused for a moment, studying the men. "As far as that goes, I don't understand what the two of you are doing here. Lindsey and I are both adults and it's nobody's business whether we slept together or not."

  Joe shook his head and turned away. "Get some clothes on," he said over his shoulder, "and then we'll talk."

  He left the room.

  Jared looked around for his clothes. They were scattered on the floor as if he'd been in a hurry to get undressed. He'd taken off everything but his boxer shorts. That was small consolation, but at the moment, he'd accept anything.

  Had he made love to her, neither one of them would have had clothes on. He knew that for sure. Before she'd pulled her robe on, he'd gotten a glimpse of Lindsey's cotton nightgown and felt a real sense of relief. Regardless of how he'd managed to turn up in Lindsey's bed, he hadn't taken advantage of her.

  With a stirring of determination, Jared shoved his feet into his jeans and pulled them up as he stood, his head still spinning and pounding so hard he felt like he was going to pass out. Ignoring Senator Russell, Jared pulled on his socks, boots and shirt, picked up his hat and stalked out of the bedroom.

  Joe was waiting for him in the living room. Jared hoped never again to see such a look of contempt aimed at him from his dad.

  "I'm really disappointed in you, Jared," Joe said softly. "I have never said a word to you about your social life because you're right, it's none of my business. At the same time, I never would have thought a son of mine would seduce an innocent girl and then pretend he can't remember anything about it. You've disgraced the family name, Jared—there's no two ways about it. In case you want to know my feelings on the matter, I'll tell you this�
��if R.W. thinks there should be a wedding, then it would behoove you to polish up your dress boots and make certain you have a suit cleaned, because there will be a wedding if I have anything to say about it."

  "That sounds like a threat," Jared replied slowly, holding his gaze steady. "And whatever you think about me or my behavior, I know without a doubt that I did nothing to harm Lindsey last night. Not one thing. There was no seduction, no betrayal of her. And I'll be damned if I'm going to let you or anyone else railroad me into a marriage that neither Lindsey nor I want."

  Neither gaze wavered as they continued to stare each other down.

  Joe finally looked away and said, "Damn it, Jared! The last thing the Crenshaws need right now is to get sideways with Senator Russell. You know exactly why we need his support on this water rights deal. The last thing we need at this particular time is to make an enemy of him." Joe shook his head wearily. "I wish to hell you'd never seen the senator's daughter!"

  "At the moment, I share your sentiment. However, I know that once Lindsey and I have a chance to talk, we'll be able to handle the situation without outside interference. I know her well enough by now to know that she isn't interested in getting married. She's got a job lined up in New York and can hardly wait to move up there.

  "She's told me how overprotective her father has always been. If he had his way, he would probably keep her in a convent until he found a husband for her." He glanced down at his feet and the pain in his head intensified drastically. He groaned. "I'd appreciate having this discussion after I've had some coffee and a handful of aspirin. I have a hunch this situation isn't going to be resolved in the next few hours."

  "Coffee's in the kitchen," Senator Russell said from somewhere behind him. "I don't know what kind of story you intend to feed us, but the facts speak for themselves, Jared. I woke up this morning and discovered your truck parked outside. When I went looking for you, I'll admit the very last place I expected to find you was in my daughter's bed." He glanced at Joe, then away. "I could kill you for this, just so there's no misunderstanding about how I feel at the moment. In fact, I decided to call Joe before I did bodily harm to you. I wanted him to witness what I had, and I intend to do whatever damage control is necessary, do you understand me?"