by Nora Roberts
Persistence had paid off. The letter had come, as he’d known it would. He’d taken it back to the motel room, steamed it open. Oh, Jesse Cooke was nobody’s fool. He’d read it, seen where she was going, what she was up to.
Going to cash in on an inheritance, he thought bitterly. And cut her own husband out of his share of the pie. Not in this lifetime, Jesse mused.
The minute the letter had been resealed and put back in the box, he’d headed for Montana. And had gotten there, he thought now, two full days before his idiot wife. Long enough for a man as smart as Jesse Cooke to get the lay of the land and get himself a job on Three Rocks.
A miserable fucking job, he thought now, keeping machines in repair. Well, he knew his way around engines, and there was always a rig that needed fine-tuning. When he wasn’t doing that, they had him out checking fences day and night.
But that came in handy, damn handy, like now. A man out riding in a four-wheel to check fences could take a little detour and check out what else was going on.
And he saw plenty.
Jesse rubbed his fingers over the moustache he’d grown and dyed like his hair, medium brown. Just a precaution, he thought, just a temporary disguise, in case Lily blabbed about him. If she did, they’d have their eye out for a clean-shaven man with blond hair. He had let his hair grow too and would keep on letting it grow. Like a fucking pansy, he thought, resenting the necessity of giving up his severe Marine Corps crew cut.
It would all be worth it in the end. When he had Lily back, when he reminded her who was boss. Who was in charge.
Until that happy day he would stay close. And he would watch.
“You have a good time, bitch,” Jesse muttered, his eyes narrowing behind the high-powered lenses as Lily walked her mount beside Adam’s. “Payback time’s coming.”
M OST OF THE DAY HAD DIED OUT OF THE SKY BY THE time Willa got back to the ranch house. Dehorning and castrating cattle was a messy, miserable job, and a tedious one. She knew she was pushing herself, and knew she would continue to push. She wanted the men to see her at every angle, at every job. Shifting operators under the best of circumstances could be a rough transition. And these were far from the best of circumstances.
Which is why she’d been on hand when a herd of elk had trampled through a fence, creating havoc. And why she’d personally headed the crew to chase them off again, to repair the fence.
Now with the work done for the day and the hands settling down for supper and cards in the bunkhouse, she wanted nothing more than a hot bath and a hot meal. She was halfway up the steps to get the first when the knock sounded on the door. Knowing that Bess was likely in the kitchen, Willa stomped back down to answer.
She greeted Ben with a scowl. “What do you want?”
“A cold beer would go down good.”
“This isn’t a saloon.” But she swung away from the door and into the living room to the cold box behind the bar. “Make it fast, Ben. I haven’t had my supper.”
“Neither have I.” He took the bottle she handed him. “But I don’t expect I’m going to get an invitation.”
“I’m not in the mood for company.”
“I’ve never known you to be in the mood for company.” He tipped back the beer and drank deep. “I haven’t seen you since we were up in the high country. Thought I should let you know I didn’t find anything. Trail died out on me. I’d have to say whoever was up there knew his way around tracking.”
She took a beer for herself, and since her feet were aching, dropped down beside Ben on the sofa. “Pickles thinks it was kids. Doped up and crazy.”
“And you?”
“I didn’t.” She moved a shoulder. “Now that sounds like the best explanation.”
“Maybe. There’s not much use going back up. We’ve got the cattle down. Is your sister back from LA?”
Willa stopped rolling her head to loosen her shoulders and frowned at him. “You’re awfully interested in Mercy business, McKinnon.”
“That’s part of my job now.” He liked reminding her of it, just as he liked looking at her, with her hair falling out of her braid and her boots propped beside his. “Have you heard from her?”
“She’ll be here tomorrow, so if that concludes your prying into my business, you can—”
“Going to introduce me?” To please himself he reached out to toy with her hair. “Maybe I’ll take a shine to her and keep her occupied and out of your way for a while.”
She knocked his hand aside, but he only brought it back. “Do women always fall at your feet?”
“All but you, darling. And that’s just because I haven’t found the right way to tip your balance.” He skimmed a fingertip down her cheek, watched her eyes narrow. “But I’m working on it. What about the other one?”
“The other what?” Willa wanted to shift over a couple of inches, but she knew it would make her look like a fool.
“The other sister.”
“She’s around. Somewhere.”
He smiled, slowly. “I’m making you nervous. Isn’t that interesting?”
“Your ego needs pruning again.” But she started to rise. He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
“Well, well,” he murmured, feeling her vibrate under his hand. “It looks like I haven’t been paying close enough attention. Come here.”
She concentrated on evening her breathing, slowly changed her grip on the beer she held. Oh, he looks so arrogant, she thought. So cocky. So sure I’ll melt if he bothers to push the right button.
“You want me to come there,” she purred, watching his eyes widen slightly in surprise at the warm tone. “And what’ll happen if I do?”
He might have called himself a fool—if there’d been any blood left in his head to allow him to think. But all he could do at that moment was feel the gradual simmer of lust set off by that husky voice.
“I’d say it’s long past time we found out.” He curled his fingers into her shirt, tightened his grip, and pulled her against him. If his gaze hadn’t drifted down from hers to lock onto her mouth, he would have seen it coming. Instead he found himself an inch away from that mouth and soaked from the beer she dumped over his head.
“You’re such a jerk, Ben.” Pleased with herself, she leaned forward to set the empty bottle on the table. “You think I could live on a ranch surrounded by randy men all my life and not see a move like that a mile off?”
Slowly, he dragged a hand through his wet hair. “Guess not. But then again—”
He moved fast. When she found herself trapped under him, Willa thought, even a snake rattles before he strikes. Now she could only be disgusted with herself for being pressed into the couch by a wiry male with blood in his eye.
“You didn’t see that coming.” He handcuffed her wrists, hauled her arms over her head. Her face was flushed, but he didn’t think it was only temper. Temper didn’t make her tremble, didn’t put that sudden female awareness in her eyes. “Are you afraid to let me kiss you, Willa? Afraid you’ll like it?”
Her heart was beating too fast, felt as though it would shatter through her ribs. Her lips were tingling, as if the nerves centered there were revving up for action. “If I want your mouth on me, I’ll tell you.”
He only smiled, leaned down closer to her face. “Why don’t you tell me you don’t? Go ahead, tell me.” His voice thickened as he nipped lightly at her jaw. “Tell me you don’t want me to taste you. Just once.”
She couldn’t. It would have been a lie, but lying didn’t worry her. She simply couldn’t get a word through her dry throat. So she took the other option, and brought her knee up, fast and hard.
She had the pleasure of seeing him go dead pale before he collapsed on her.
“Get off me. Get off, you goddamn idiot. You’re crushing my lungs.” Desperate for air, she arched, bucked, making him moan. She managed to gasp in a breath before she grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked.
They rolled off the couch and crashed to the floor. She saw st
ars as her elbow hit the edge of the table. It was pain and fury that had her tearing into him. Something shattered on the floor as they wrestled over it, grunting and cursing.
He was trying to defend himself, but she was obviously out for blood. And proved it by biting his arm just under the shoulder. Yelping, certain that she was going to take a chunk out of him, he managed to get a grip on her jaw and squeeze. Under the pressure the tear of her teeth loosened.
They rolled, boots clattering and digging for purchase, elbows jabbing, hands grappling. Willa didn’t realize she was laughing until he had her pinned. She kept right on laughing, helpless even to stop for breath as he stared down at her.
“You think it’s funny?” He had to squint, then huff out a breath to get the hair out of his eyes. But all in all, he was grateful she hadn’t managed to tear it out of his head by the handful. “You bit me.”
“I know.” Her voice hitched as she ran a tongue over her teeth. “I think I’ve got some of your shirt in my mouth. Turn me loose, Ben.”
“So you can bite me again, or try to kick my balls into my throat?” Since they were still aching—more than a little—he narrowed his eyes, sneered. “You fight like a girl.”
“So what? It works.”
His mood was shifting again. He could feel that hot, slick transition from temper to lust, from insult to interest. The way they’d ended up, her breasts were pressed nicely against his chest, and her legs were spread with his snugged between them.
“Yeah, it does. You being female seems to suit the situation.”
She saw the change in his eyes, teetered between panic and longing. “Don’t.” His mouth was barely an inch from hers now, and her breath was gone again.
“Why not? It’s not going to hurt anybody.”
“I don’t want your mouth on me.”
He lifted a brow, and he smiled. “Liar.”
And she shuddered. “Yeah.”
His mouth was only a whisper from hers when she heard the first piercing screams.
FIVE
B EN ROLLED, GAINED HIS FEET. THIS TIME, AS WILLA RAN behind him she could admire the speed with which he could move. The screams were still echoing when he wrenched open the front door.
“Christ.” He muttered it even as he stepped over the bloody mess on the porch and gathered Lily in his arms. “It’s all right, honey.” Automatically he shifted so that he blocked her view and, with his hands stroking easy down her back, looked over her head into Willa’s eyes.
The shock was there, but it wasn’t the quaking, glassy-eyed horror of the woman he held. This one was fragile, he thought, whereas Willa would always be sturdy.
“You ought to get her inside,” he said to Willa.
But Willa was shaking her head, staring down now at the mangled and bloody mess at her feet. “Must be one of the barn cats.” Or it had been, she thought grimly, before someone had decapitated it and cut its guts open and left it like a gory gift at her front door.
“Take her inside, Will,” Ben repeated.
The screams had brought others running. Adam was the first to reach the porch. The first thing he saw was Lily weeping in Ben’s arms. The quick hitch in his gut had almost as much to do with that as what he saw spread on the porch.
Instinctively he stepped up, laid a hand on her arm, soothing when she jerked. “It’s all right, Lily.”
“Adam, I saw . . .” Nausea churned a storm in her stomach.
“I know. You go on inside now. Look at me,” he murmured, carefully easing her away from Ben and leading her around and toward the door. “Willa’s going to take you inside.”
“Look, I’ve got—”
“Take care of your sister, Will,” Adam interrupted, and taking her hand, placed it firmly over Lily’s.
Willa lost the battle when Lily’s hand trembled under hers. With a mumbled oath she tugged. “Come on. You need to sit down.”
“I saw—”
“Yeah, I know what you saw. Forget it.” Willa closed the door with a decisive click, leaving the men to ponder the headless corpse on the porch.
“Christ, Adam, is that a cat?” Jim Brewster swiped a hand over his mouth. “Somebody sure did a number on it.”
Adam glanced back, studying each man in turn: Jim, face pale, Adam’s apple bobbing; Ham tight-lipped; Pickles with a rifle over his shoulder. There was Billy Vincent, barely eighteen and all eager eyes, and Wood Book, stroking his silky black beard.
It was Wood who spoke, his voice calm. “Where’s the head? Don’t see it there.” He stepped closer. It was Wood who oversaw the planting, tending, and harvesting of grain, and his wife, Nell, who cooked for the ranch hands. He smelled of Old Spice and peppermint candy. Adam knew him to be a steady man, as implacable as the Rock of Gibraltar.
“Whoever did this might like trophies.” Adam’s words stopped the murmurs. Only Billy continued to babble.
“Jee-sus Christ, you ever seen anything like that? Spread the guts all over hell and back, didn’t he? Now who’d do that to some stupid cat? What do you think—”
“Shut the hell up, Billy, you asshole.” The weary order came from Ham. He sighed once, took out his pack of smokes. “Get on back to supper, all of you. Nothing for you to do here now but gawk like a bunch of old ladies at a fashion show.”
“Don’t have much appetite,” Jim murmured, but he and the others drifted back.
“Sure is a sorry mess,” Ham commented. “Guess a kid might do this. Wood’s boys are a little wild, but they’re not mean. You ask me, it takes mean to do this. But I’ll talk to them.”
“Ham, mind if I ask if you know what the men have been up to for the past hour?”
Ham studied Ben through a haze of smoke. “Been here and there, washing up for supper and the like. I haven’t had my eye on them, if that’s what you’re asking. The men that work here don’t go cutting up a cat for frolic.”
Ben merely nodded. It wasn’t his place to ask more, and they both knew it. “It had to have happened in the last hour. I’ve been here awhile, and this wasn’t here before.”
Ham sucked in more smoke, nodded. “I’ll talk to Wood’s boys.” He gave one last look at what lay on the porch. “Sure is a sorry mess,” he repeated, then walked away.
“You’ve had two animals torn up in a week, Adam.”
Adam crouched down, laid his fingertip on the bloody fur. “His name was Mike. He was old, mostly blind in one eye, and should have died in his sleep.”
“I’m sorry about that.” Ben understood the affection, even the intimacy, with animals well and dropped a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “I think you’ve got a real problem here.”
“Yeah. Wood’s boys didn’t do this. They’ve got no harm in them. And they weren’t up in the hills slaughtering a steer either.”
“No, I wouldn’t say they were. How well do you know your men?”
Adam lifted his gaze. Whatever the grief, it was hard, direct. “The men aren’t my territory. The horses are.” Still warm, he thought as he stroked the matted fur. Cooling fast, but still warm. “I know them well enough. All but Billy have been here for years, and he signed on last summer. You’d have to ask Willa, she’d know more.” He looked down again and grieved for an old half-blind tom who had still liked to hunt. “Lily shouldn’t have seen this.”
“No, she shouldn’t have.” Ben sighed and wondered how close she’d come to seeing who it was. “I’ll help you bury him.”
Inside, Willa paced the living room. How the hell was she supposed to take care of the woman? And why had Adam pushed such a useless task on her? All Lily did was cower in the corner of the sofa and shake.
She’d given Lily whiskey, hadn’t she? She’d even patted her head for lack of anything better. She had a problem on her hands, for God’s sake, and she didn’t need some weak-stomached Easterner to add to it.
“I’m sorry.” Those were the first words she’d managed since she’d come inside. Taking a deep breath, Lily tried them again. “I’m sor
ry. I shouldn’t have screamed that way. I’ve never seen anything . . . I’d been with Adam, helping with the horses, and then I . . . I just—”
“Drink the damn whiskey, would you?” Willa snapped, then cursed herself as Lily cringed and obediently lifted the glass to her lips. Disgusted with herself, Willa rubbed her hands over her face. “I expect anybody would have screamed coming across something like that. I’m not mad at you.”
Lily hated whiskey, the burn of it, the smell. Jesse had favored Seagram’s. And as the level in the bottle dropped, his temper rose. Always. But now she pretended to drink. “Was it a cat? I thought it was a cat.” Lily bit down hard on her lip to keep her voice steady. “Was it your cat?”
“The cats are Adam’s. And the dogs. And the horses. But they did it to me. They didn’t leave it on Adam’s porch. They did it to me.”
“Like—like the steer.”
Willa stopped pacing, glanced over her shoulder. “Yes. Like the steer.”
“Here’s a nice pot of tea.” Bess hurried in, carrying a tray. The minute she set it down, she began fussing. “Will, what are you thinking of, giving the poor thing whiskey? It’s just going to upset her stomach is all.” Gently, Bess took the glass from Lily and set it aside. “You drink some tea, honey, and rest yourself. You’ve had a bad shock. Will, stop that pacing and sit down.”
“You take care of her. I’m going out.”
Though she poured the tea with a steady hand, Bess gave Willa’s retreating back a hard look. “That girl never listens.”
“She’s upset.”
“Aren’t we all.”
Lily lifted the cup with both hands, felt the warmth spread at the first sip. “She takes it deeper. It’s her ranch.”
Bess cocked her head. “Yours too.”
“No.” Lily drank again, gradually grew calmer. “It’ll always be hers.”
The cat was gone, but there was still blood pooled over the wood. Willa went back for a bucket of soapy water, a scrub brush. Bess would have done it, she knew, but it wasn’t something she would ask of another.
