by Rita Herron
Yes he had. But she didn’t feel the same attraction to him that she did toward Ray.
A loud knock echoed from the front, and she clenched the quilt as Hugh swung around. “Who the hell is that?”
“I don’t know,” Scarlet said.
“Probably that SOB McCullen.” Hugh strode into the living room and Scarlet raced after him.
“Hugh, I’ll get it.”
But Hugh blocked her from the door, pulled a gun from his jacket and ordered her to be quiet.
“Scarlet, I know you’re in there,” Ray called. “Let me in.”
Hugh pointed the gun at her. “Get rid of him,” he ordered.
A tremor rippled through her, and she nodded.
She’d do anything to protect Ray.
Inhaling a calming breath, she inched her way to the door, but left the chain attached as she turned the bottom lock.
Ray’s dark eyes met hers through the crack. “Scarlet,” he said softly. “Please let me in.”
She shook her head. “Not tonight, Ray, I’m tired.”
“We have to talk about earlier... I’m sorry.”
She had to get rid of him, fast. “There’s nothing else to say.” She grabbed the letter she’d written to him earlier and shoved it through the opening.
His fingers closed around it, his eyes questioning. “What is this?”
“It’s goodbye, Ray.”
Trembling, she slammed the door shut. She leaned against it breathing heavily as she looked into Hugh’s troubled eyes.
A slow smile curved his mouth, and he feathered her hair from her cheek. “See, now, everything will be all right. You and I will be together just like it should have been all along.”
* * *
RAY SKIMMED THE letter Scarlet had written. She was leaving town because he and his brothers had given her hell.
That wasn’t what his father wanted.
It wasn’t what he wanted, either.
He leaned against the door, debating on how to change her mind, but footsteps and voices echoed from inside.
Voices—not just Scarlet’s.
A man. Had Pullman gotten out of jail?
He leaned against the door, straining to hear. They were arguing.
Scarlet had seemed nervous.
A yelp sounded inside, then something slammed against the wall and his instincts surged to life. Not bothering to question what he was doing, he jiggled the doorknob. Scarlet hadn’t locked it, and it opened just enough for him to see her coworker.
He clutched Scarlet’s arm trying to pull her toward the bedroom, but she was resisting.
Pure rage flooded Ray, and he rammed his shoulder against the door and knocked it open. Scarlet gasped and Hugh looked startled, then Ray caught the shiny glint of metal. Hugh had a gun.
“What’s going on here?” Ray asked, debating on how best to approach the man.
“I thought you left,” Hugh said. “Scarlet and I want to be alone, don’t we?”
He tightened his grip on Scarlet’s arm and she nodded, but she was trembling.
“If you want me to leave, you’re going to have to put that gun down,” Ray said.
Hugh gaped at the pistol as if he’d forgotten he was holding it. “I would never hurt Scarlet. I love her.”
“If you love me, Hugh, then let me go,” Scarlet said in a low voice.
Indecision played in Hugh’s eyes. “You and I have been through so much, Scarlet. We belong together.”
The man sounded delusional. Ray wanted to reach for his gun, but he couldn’t take the chance. Instead he raised his hands in surrender.
“Seriously, man, I get what you’re saying. Just put the gun on the counter, then I’ll walk out.”
“Please, listen to him, Hugh. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Hugh narrowed his eyes at Ray as if he sensed a trap. “Leave first, then I’ll put down the gun.”
Ray shook his head. “Not going to happen.”
Hugh raised the gun again. “You can’t have her. She’s mine.”
Scarlet stepped in front of Ray, putting herself in between the men.
“Scarlet, move,” Ray growled.
But she lifted that chin again. She was stubborn. “Shoot Ray and you have to shoot me,” she said softly.
Hugh looked panicked. “Get out of the way, Scarlet.”
Ray reached for her arm to pull her behind him, but she jerked away and turned to face Hugh, blocking him. “Hugh, you and I both grew up with violence around us. You hated the way your father treated your mother.” Her voice was gentle. “You’re not going to turn into him. I won’t let you.”
Ray had no idea what that meant, and he didn’t want to.
Scarlet held out her hand, palm up. “Now, please. Give me the gun and we’ll work this out.”
Fear throbbed through Ray. But a second later, Hugh handed her the gun. He broke down and began to cry, and she pulled him into her arms.
“I’m going to call his therapist,” she said. “He must be off his meds.”
Ray kept his eyes on Hugh. If he made one move, he’d shoot the sick jerk. “The only way he doesn’t get locked up tonight is if he admits himself for treatment.”
Hugh dropped his head into his hands and rocked himself back and forth. He seemed to disappear inside himself.
Scarlet patted his back in a comforting gesture and made a phone call. Ten minutes later, he drove Scarlet and Hugh to meet the man’s therapist at the psychiatric ward where they admitted him.
When Scarlet was satisfied Hugh was settled, Ray drove Scarlet home. She looked wrung out, as if she needed someone to lift the weight of the world from her slender shoulders.
He wanted to be that someone.
“He’s bipolar. I should have seen the signs that he was off his meds,” she said as he walked her to the door.
Ray rubbed her arms up and down to soothe her. “Scarlet, it’s not your job to save the world. You’ve had your hands full with your work and Pullman, and Bobby and Barbara.” His brothers had also given her a hard time.
But that would stop. He’d made a stand tonight, and he hoped they accepted his decision. That is, if Scarlet would have him.
Had he and his family hurt her too much for her to love him?
* * *
SCARLET’S NERVES WERE on the brink of shattering.
Ray stood at the door, lingering, making it even more difficult for her to say goodbye.
“Thanks for helping me tonight,” Scarlet finally said. “I know you need to go back to Horseshoe Creek. Did Bobby or Barbara admit to setting the fire?”
“No, and that’s the damnedest thing,” Ray said. “Bobby confessed that he hired that thug to beat me up, but he wouldn’t cop to the fires. If he and Barbara aren’t responsible for them, that means our ranch and my family may still be in danger.”
The thought of anyone attacking Ray terrified Scarlet. “Then you should go home.”
As much as she wanted Ray right now, his brothers needed him more. They’d just buried their father and someone was trying to destroy their ranch, their home and their livelihood.
Her keys jangled in her hands as she unlocked the door and stepped inside.
But Ray stepped in behind her. “What about you, Scarlet?”
She turned to look at him. He was so close he was touching her, his gaze boring into hers, probing.
“What do you need?” he asked in a raw whisper.
She needed him. But how could she ask him for love, when she and her adopted family had torn the McCullens apart?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ray shuffled from foot to foot, his stomach churning. No woman had ever tied him in knots like this.
He couldn’t even think straight.
Was she giving him the brush-off? Did she want him to leave her alone?
He couldn’t blame her if she did. Except for his father, all the men in her life had disappointed her. His brothers hadn’t exactly welcomed her into their lives. Bobby had resented her and tormented her. Even Hugh, her friend, had frightened her with his sick games.
And he...he hadn’t jumped to her defense the way he should have back at the ranch.
He cleared his throat twice to make his voice work. “Scarlet—”
“Ray, go home where you belong. Make up with your brothers and put your family back together the way your father wanted.”
He remembered the letter she’d written him, relinquishing her piece of land. “My father wanted you to have part of Horseshoe Creek, too.”
Scarlet’s face twisted in pain. “You have no idea how much that means to me, Ray. I loved your father, mistakes and all.” Her lower lip quivered. “But there’s no way I can live on any part of the ranch and be your neighbor when you and your brothers don’t want me there.”
Ray’s heart gave an odd pang. His father had made mistakes, but loving and caring for Scarlet hadn’t been one of them. She might not have been born a McCullen, but she had earned her way into his father’s heart.
And into his.
“You’re right,” he said, his voice firm. “I don’t want you to be my neighbor.”
Sadness tinged her beautiful eyes, but she nodded. “I understand.”
“No, you don’t.” For the first time in his life, he let the bitterness toward his father go and allowed the love that he’d found fill his heart.
Scarlet blinked back tears. “Yes, I do, Ray.”
“No, you don’t.” He pulled her up against him. “I don’t want you to be my neighbor because I want you to be my wife.”
A heartbeat of silence passed, then Scarlet’s soft gasp. “What?”
“I love you,” Ray said, as he gazed into her beautiful eyes. “I love you and I want to marry you and for us to build a home together on Horseshoe Creek. And I want to volunteer at The Family Farm and continue what my father started there.”
For a moment, she simply stared at him, her mind processing what he’d said. He loved her. He wanted to help her at the children’s home.
He wanted to marry her...
As his words sank in, her frown faded into a smile, and she clasped her hands around his neck. She would really be a McCullen and have the family she’d always dreamed of. “I love you, too, Ray.”
He tilted his head, his lips a fraction of an inch away from hers. “Then you’ll be my wife?”
Tears blurred her eyes.
“Scarlet?”
“Yes, I’ll marry you, Ray. I love you with all my heart.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him with all the passion in her soul.
Ray twirled her around, then carried her straight to bed. Frantic to touch each other, they tore at each other’s clothes, lips melding, bodies gliding, passion bursting between them as they made love.
For tonight, nothing mattered except that together they had found each other.
Maybe his father had known all along that Scarlet was meant to be in the family. Maybe even that she was meant to be with him.
Epilogue
Two weeks later
Deputy Roan Whitefeather couldn’t believe he’d been invited to the McCullen ranch for Ray McCullen’s wedding to Scarlet Lovett. Guitar music strummed as Scarlet stepped under the gazebo by the creek to join with Ray.
Roan didn’t belong here.
But he knew more about this family than they knew about themselves.
Knew Joe had more secrets that would rattle the brothers even more than finding out about Barbara and Bobby Lowman.
Maddox, Brett and Ray had already started rebuilding the main farmhouse where Maddox and Rose would live. Brett and Willow’s house was almost finished and ready to move in.
Ray had drawn up plans for himself and his new wife, and they were temporarily living in the cabin Joe McCullen had left Scarlet.
Hugh was in treatment at the psychiatric ward. Evidence had proven that he had given Scarlet the burned photo and that he’d smashed the doll.
The brothers were still grieving, but seemed to have mended fences among themselves. They had found a website on Barbara’s computer where she’d researched how to cut brake lines, and used it to push Barbara for a confession. She claimed she’d only wanted to scare Scarlet. She and Bobby had pled out on lesser charges but would serve some time, and Bobby had agreed to rehab. One day they might win their way back into the McCullens’ favor, but that would take time.
Whitefeather stood at the edge of the ceremony, studying the crowd, searching for anyone suspicious that might want to hurt the McCullens.
Maddox, Brett and Ray were determined to find out who’d set the fires. So far, the arson investigator hadn’t found DNA to tie it to Romley or anyone else.
At this point, Romley was still missing, and they suspected he was connected to Arlis Bennett, but they needed proof.
He would find it, though. Just like he would find out the truth about how Joe had died.
The brothers hadn’t questioned that their father’s illness had killed him.
But he had.
And he wouldn’t stop until he learned if Joe McCullen had really died of natural causes.
Or if he’d been murdered.
* * * * *
Look for the next exciting book in Rita Herron’s miniseries THE HEROES OF HORSESHOE CREEK,
WARRIOR SON,
coming soon from Harlequin Intrigue!
Keep reading for an excerpt from URGENT PURSUIT by Beverly Long.
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Urgent Pursuit
by Beverly Long
Chapter One
Tuesday, 4:00 p.m.
Bray got off the plane in St. Louis, Missouri, and shuffled alongside all the other passengers through the terminal. He’d slept the entire flight, but since it was just over two hours from New York to St. Louis, it was not nearly enough time to make up for the past three months, when any rest in excess of four hours a night was consid
ered a luxury.
And when you made your living working as a drug enforcement agent, luxury wasn’t part of your everyday vocabulary. But now he had five whole days of downtime, a well-earned vacation as his boss had coined it, to catch up on his sleep.
For months, he’d been planning to travel to Missouri in November for Thanksgiving. Had expected turkey would be served at Chase’s upscale, albeit rather sterile, apartment in St. Louis. Had not imagined Chase would move the event to the family home in Ravesville—or that he’d add something else to the holiday weekend.
He’d been casual, too casual Bray now realized, when he’d asked Bray how he might feel about extending his stay through Sunday. Bray had assumed he was looking for help to get the house ready for sale.
He’d almost fallen off his chair when Chase had announced that he was getting married on the Saturday after Thanksgiving, and would Bray serve as a groomsman? Bray had laughed and said, “Hell, yes.” Then Chase, apparently oblivious that at Bray’s advanced age of thirty-seven it was good to have some time to adjust to shocks, had kept going. He wanted to buy the family home, to settle in Ravesville with his new wife, Raney.
“Of course,” Bray had said. Then added, “Is there anything else?”
All Chase had said was to expect a call from Cal.
He’d had to wait forty-three hours for his youngest brother to call. And when Cal announced that Bray needed to make sure he could get time off for two trips west because he was engaged and would be married at Christmas, Bray hadn’t minced words. “I’ll come but I’m sure as hell not drinking the water. The Hollister boys are falling fast, and I’m going to save myself.”
He was happy for his brothers. But he knew that marriage wasn’t for everyone. He’d come close once, but it had been a long time ago. He’d gone to war, and Summer Wright had married somebody else.
Chase had shared that she was divorced with a couple of kids. Still living in Ravesville. Didn’t matter. He and Summer were old news.
He stepped up to the car-rental counter and took the keys for the Chevy Impala. In New York, he had a sweet little BMW convertible but he rarely drove it. Paid a hundred bucks a month to park it down the street from his Brooklyn condo. He mostly worked out of an old, beat-up Honda that was owned by the agency. There was nothing on it to steal, and it already had so many dents that the joke was he could run down some scumbag drug dealer and not even have to file a report.
