The Enemy's Daughter

by Linda Turner

  More miserable than she’d been in years, she didn’t sleep. Through the screened door of her tent, she watched the moon rise and track its way across the night sky, then the first faint glow of dawn paint the eastern horizon. Long before Cookie had breakfast cooking on the campfire, she was dressed and ready for work.

  She didn’t need a mirror to know that she wasn’t looking her best. Her eyes were red and swollen from the tears she’d fought all night, and she didn’t doubt that she was as pale as a ghost—she always was when she didn’t get enough sleep. The way she felt right now, she’d never sleep again. And that was all right with her. Because every time she closed her eyes, she could feel Steve’s arms slip around her and his mouth settle on hers. And it hurt.

  “You all right, Lise?”

  “You look a little peaked.”

  “You’re not coming down with something, are you? Maybe you should stay in bed today and let the rest of us pick up the slack. You don’t want to come down with something like that virus you caught last year. You could end up in bed for weeks.”

  Embarrassed that her men noticed, she started to shrug off their concern, only to hesitate when she noticed Steve watching her through narrowed eyes. “Actually,” she said huskily, “I do feel a little sick. Maybe I should take it easy today.”

  That was all she had to say to have Tuck, Nate and the other hands swarming around her in concern.

  “Here,” Nate said gruffly, handing her a bottle of aspirin. “Take some of these. You look like you’re running a fever.”

  “You’re supposed to feed a fever,” Cookie growled, and handed her a plateful of scrambled eggs that could have easily fed three men.

  “Give her some room,” Tuck ordered with a scowl. “Can’t you see the girl needs some air?”

  Touched by their concern and feeling guilty for misleading them, Lise found herself suddenly battling tears. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice choked. “Maybe I just need to lie down for a while.”

  “Someone should stay with you today,” Steve said gruffly. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

  He hadn’t meant to say anything. They’d barely spoken since they’d made love, and she obviously wanted that to continue since she’d taken every opportunity yesterday and this morning to avoid him, but he was worried about her, dammit! She was pale and drawn and looked like she’d blow away in a stiff wind. And he didn’t know if that was because she was really sick or regretted making love with him.

  Something lodged in his heart at that, paining him. The timing might have been all wrong for both of them, but he hated the thought of her regretting making love with him. It had been incredible for him, and he’d thought she felt the same. Maybe if he stayed with her, they could talk about it.

  “I’ll stay with her,” Frankie said before Steve could open his mouth. “I don’t mind.”

  “Any excuse not to work,” Barney taunted with a shake of his head. “If anybody’s going to stay, it should be Nate. He can’t take the heat like he used to.”

  “Hey!”

  “No one needs to stay behind,” Lise said quickly before an argument could ensue. “It’s not as if I’ll be by myself. Cookie’s here. If I need anything, I’m sure he’ll be happy to help me.”

  “Damn straight,” Cookie growled. Armed with a wooden spoon, he gave the lot of them a hard look. “Now that we’ve got that settled, you’ve got ten minutes to eat, then I’m going to start cleaning up. If you’re hungry, you’d better grab a plate while you can.”

  He didn’t need to tell them twice. They all rushed toward the chuck wagon. Watching Lise duck into her tent, Steve was tempted to follow her inside, but Cookie was standing guard, daring anyone to bother her. Reluctantly, Steve was forced to accept the fact that he didn’t stand a chance of getting anywhere near her today. Not when everyone was feeling so protective of her. He kept his distance and joined the chow line.

  If he could hold her just once, he knew they’d both feel better. But she didn’t come out of her tent, and he didn’t get another chance to talk to her. Breakfast was wolfed down, and all too soon it was time to get to work. Horses were bridled and saddled, and ten minutes later, everyone rode into the bush to round up the cattle. Steve was left with no choice but to go with them.

  Lying on her cot, Lise would have liked nothing better than to go back to sleep and forget the world. But when she heard the others ride out of camp, she knew this might be the only chance she got to search Steve’s things. So as soon as the last man rode off and the only sound in camp was that of Cookie doing dishes, she quietly stepped out of her tent.

  Another woman might have made no secret of what she was doing, especially with Cookie, whom Lise trusted with her life, but she couldn’t be quite that brazen. She knew it was stupid, but she didn’t want anyone else to think as badly of Steve as she did. So she stood outside her tent for what seemed like an eternity, watching Cookie at the other end of the camp as he went about his morning routine, and sighed in relief that he was too occupied with the dishes to notice her. Humming softly to himself, he turned his back to her as he washed a large skillet, and Lise quickly took advantage of his distraction. Soundlessly, she darted to Steve’s tent and disappeared inside.

  Her heart pounding, she stood just inside the tent opening and told herself there was no reason to feel like a thief in the night. She wasn’t going to steal anything, just find out who the real Steve Trace was. And there was nothing wrong with that. If he hadn’t lied to her, she would have accepted him for the man he’d said he was, and none of this would have been necessary.

  It only took a single glance to verify that his tent was just as sparsely furnished as hers. Other than a canvas cot, there was nothing in it but the duffel bag that held his clothes.

  Hesitating, she stood there for what seemed like an eternity, not sure that she could do this. In the end, however, she knew she had no choice. She wasn’t going to get the truth from Steve, so she had to find it for herself. She stepped over to the duffel bag, which sat on the ground at the foot of the cot, and went down on one knee to examine its contents.

  The second she touched his neatly packed clothes, she felt as if she was somehow betraying him. Her palms damp and her stomach churning with nerves, she glanced guiltily at the tent flap, half expecting to find Steve standing there, glaring at her in outrage, but he was nowhere in sight. If she hadn’t already been kneeling, she was sure her bones would have dissolved in relief. Hurriedly, she turned to the duffel bag and quickly went through it.

  She didn’t know what she expected to find, but when the search turned up a wallet and passport that verified the man she’d given her virginity to was, indeed, Steve Trace, Lise didn’t know if she was relieved or disappointed. She didn’t know much more than she’d known before, just his name and that he had reasonably good credit, if the handful of credit cards in his wallet was anything to go by. There had to be more to the man than that, though.

  Frowning, she examined his wallet carefully and had just about decided that there was nothing of interest when she suddenly discovered a hidden flap behind the compartment that held his driver’s license. And in it was a neatly folded piece of paper. Her heart slamming against her ribs, she quickly pulled it out and unfolded it.

  In case of emergency, please contact Henry Trace, Route 1, Box 25, Laurel Heights, Wisconsin.

  A phone number was scrawled after the address, but Lise hardly noticed. So his parents really did live in Wisconsin—at least he hadn’t lied about that. That didn’t, however, mean that he’d told the truth about anything else. After eavesdropping on his conversation at the cabin, she knew for a fact that he was no friend of her father’s. So who was he? She wouldn’t rest until she found out.

  Chapter 9

  Steve liked to think he wasn’t a stupid man. Years ago, when he’d first started working for SPEAR, he’d learned he couldn’t trust anyone but himself. That, apparently, hadn’t changed, he realized at lunch when he stepped into his tent. Si
nce he’d left camp after breakfast that morning, someone had been there. He’d been careful to take note of where his duffel bag was sitting that morning, and it was no longer in the exact same spot. Someone had not only moved it a quarter of an inch to the right, but he didn’t doubt that they’d gone through it. And it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who the culprit was. Only two people had stayed behind that morning when everyone had ridden out of camp. Lise and Cookie.

  He knew he was in trouble when he jumped at the chance to blame Cookie for the deed.

  Dammit, he had to stop this. He had to stop assuming that Lise was an innocent in the game they were playing. She wasn’t. She couldn’t be. There was a reason Simon had left her in charge of the station, and that was that he could trust her above all others to protect his interests. How many times did Steve have to be reminded of that before he accepted the fact that she was the last person on the entire station he could trust?

  Irritated with himself, he stepped out of his tent and looked around for Lise, sure that she was watching to see if he’d discovered his tent had been searched. There was no sign of her anywhere.

  “Where’s Lise?” he asked Chuck with a frown when the two of them fell into step on the way to the chuck wagon. “She’s not still in her tent, is she?”

  “Yeah. Cookie took her a tray, but she didn’t want it. I guess she’s really sick. She doesn’t usually turn down food.”

  Concerned, Steve couldn’t help but feel guilty. While he’d been blaming her for searching his things, she’d been lying in her tent, too sick to even care about eating. “Maybe I’ll stop in and say hello,” he said huskily. “It sounds like she’s feeling pretty miserable.”

  “Go ahead, if you like, but I’d grab something to eat first if I were you,” he warned. “With three people out, we’re really going to be shorthanded this afternoon, and Tuck wants us to get back to work as soon as possible.”

  Surprised, Steve arched a brow at him. “Three people? Who else is sick? I thought it was just Lise.”

  “Didn’t you hear? Barney got a nasty cut on his hand from some rusty wire when he was riding fence, and Frankie twisted his foot when he tried to get a heifer out of a mud hole she was stuck in.”

  “You’re kidding! When did this happen?”

  “About an hour ago. Tuck’s pretty disgusted with them for being so careless. We were already a man short without Lise—now we’ve got to pick up the slack for two more. They’ll both be out the rest of the day and maybe tomorrow.”

  His mind working furiously, Steve hardly heard him. So Lise and Cookie hadn’t been the only ones in camp all morning. Just how serious were Barney and Frankie’s injuries? he wondered. There was no question that Barney’s cut hand had to be tended to—that wasn’t the kind of thing you ignored if you valued your life—but a simple cut wasn’t anything that should have taken him out of commission. He should have been able to return to work after it had been cleaned and bandaged, as long as he was careful to wear his work gloves. So why hadn’t he? Had he spent what was left of the morning searching Steve’s tent, instead?

  And what about Frankie? A twisted ankle didn’t sound like much of a reason to lay off work, especially for someone built like Frankie. He was as big as a house, for God’s sake! He shouldn’t have even have blinked at a twisted ankle. He sure as hell shouldn’t have come hobbling into camp for first aid when there was so much work to be done. So why had he? Had he hoped to do a little snooping while everyone was gone?

  Suddenly not sure of anything, Steve swore softly. Well, that was just great. Now instead of having two people in camp he couldn’t trust, he had four. Hell. Disgusted, he joined the other men for lunch, but he had little appetite for the pork chops Cookie had grilled. He ate what was on his plate, but he could have been eating a bologna sandwich for all the notice he gave it. All he could think about was someone going through his things.

  He wasn’t worried that the searcher might had found something. The phone card was virtually undetectable from his other credit cards, and he’d been careful to make sure everything else in his wallet and personal belongings supported his cover. Even the address and phone number that he’d hidden in his wallet had been set up by SPEAR, so it wouldn’t do Lise or whoever had gone to the trouble to search his tent any good to investigate the phony address and phone number they’d found. They would both check out.

  No, it wasn’t the information the searcher had found that bothered him. It was the searcher himself. If it wasn’t Lise, who was it? Who was suspicious of him? And why? How far would they go to find out who he was?

  Questions swirling in his head, he glanced casually around to see where Frankie and Barney were and found them at the chuck wagon with Cookie, finishing lunch. Looking a little the worse for wear, they didn’t spare him so much as a single glance, and neither did Cookie. That left only Lise, and she was still in her tent.

  He should confront her just to see if she could look him in the eye. It would have been the smart thing to do, and he knew it. But there was a good possibility that she really was sick, so for today, at least, he could give her the benefit of the doubt. When she was feeling better would be soon enough to find out if she was spying on him for her father.

  The decision made, he returned his empty plate to Cookie, then retrieved his mount from the corral and rode out of camp with some of the other hands. He didn’t have to look behind him to know that someone watched him with hostile eyes—he could feel them drilling into his back.

  Stepping out of her tent just as several men rode out of camp, Lise recognized Steve’s tall, broad-shouldered form leading the way toward the horizon and felt her heart constrict with pain. If she needed any proof that their lovemaking had meant little to him, he’d just given it to her. He’d known she wasn’t feeling well and he hadn’t even taken time to stop by her tent and see how she was when he came in for lunch.

  “Lise? Are you all right?”

  Sudden tears stinging her eyes, she dragged her gaze from the horizon and found Nate studying her worriedly. “I just got some dust in my eye,” she said. “It’s nothing.”

  Nate followed her gaze to the departing men, but although his eyes narrowed on the lead rider, he only said, “How are you feeling? You still don’t have much color in your cheeks.”

  “I think I was just out in the sun too much yesterday,” she replied huskily. “I’ll be better after I rest some.”

  As far as hints went, that was a pretty strong one, and Nate was not an obtuse man. Not pressing her, he said gruffly, “I guess I’d better get back to work, then, and let you go back to bed. If you need anything, just call Cookie. He’ll take good care of you.”

  His usually easygoing grin noticeably absent, he strode to the corral, where Tuck was checking one of the shoes of his mount, and growled, “The Yank hurt Lise.”

  Tuck’s head came up sharply at that, his brows knit in a scowl. “What? How?”

  “I don’t know,” he muttered, “but those were real tears in her eyes when she watched him ride off with Preston and Chuck. If he took advantage of her, I swear I’ll break his face.”

  Tuck gave him a hard look. “You think he did that?”

  Nate considered, then nodded shortly. “Yeah, I’m afraid so. And it stinks. Don’t get me wrong—I like the Yank. I thought it was great when he flirted with Lise. It was about time somebody appreciated her. But she was an innocent, and he knew it. He went too far.”

  “Then maybe it’s time we had a talk with him,” Tuck retorted grimly. “He might get away with making the ladies cry in America, but he’s damn sure not going to do it here.”

  Satisfied, Nate nodded. “Good. I’ll round up some of the boys.”

  The windmill was old and rusty and in sorry shape. But it was the only source of water for ten miles, and it was badly in need of repair. After strapping on a tool belt, Steve climbed up the metal tower to work on the motor, cursing the sun as it beat down on him, broiling him alive. It was a
sweltering day, without a cloud in the sky, and hotter than hell. Even through his leather gloves, he could feel the heat radiating off the metal in waves.

  Later, he couldn’t have said how long he was twenty feet off the ground, cursing the windmill’s old motor and sweating like a pig. At first, he thought the motor was frozen and incapable of being repaired, but after oiling every movable part he could find, the huge fan finally, reluctantly, groaned and started to move.

  “All right!” he shouted to the wind. “It’s about damn time!”

  Grinning like a fool, he scrambled down the tower feeling like he’d just built the space shuttle with a screwdriver. Given the chance, he might have danced a jig, but the second he stepped down from the tower, he discovered he had visitors. And they didn’t look very happy to see him. In fact, they looked downright hostile.

  Surprised to see Nate, Tuck, Chuck and Preston glaring at him like he was roadkill and already starting to smell, he eyed the four of them cautiously. Had they somehow found out who he was? Was that what this little meeting was all about?

  Alarmed, he greeted them with an easy smile, but on the inside, every muscle was tensed for action. “Hey, guys, what’s going on? I thought you were rounding up the cattle this afternoon.”

  “It’s time we had a little talk,” Nate said flatly. “About Lise.”

  “You hurt her,” Preston said quietly, resentment glinting in his eyes.

  “No—”

  “Don’t bother to deny it,” Tuck growled. “Nate saw her crying at lunch.”

  “And it’s all your fault,” Chuck added with a rare show of temper. “I’ve been here two years, and Lise never cried once in all that time. Not until you came and started hitting on her.”