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Authors: Lori Foster

BOOK: Buckhorn Beginnings
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“Only for a few weeks. And before you ask, yes, I'll tell Honey. But not now. She has a tendency to worry about me, to play the role of big sister even though I'm only a year younger than her. She's so happy with Sawyer now, she doesn't need to hear about my problems just yet.”

His fingers gently touched her hair, smoothing it. It was clearly a negligent touch, as if he did it without thought. When she glanced at him, she saw he was watching her closely.

“Will the baby be a problem?”

“No! I want the baby.”

His gaze softened. “That's not what I mean.”

Lifting her chin, she said, “If you're asking me if
I'll be a good mother, I hope so. I don't have much experience, but I intend to do my absolute best.”

“No, I wasn't accusing you of anything or questioning your maternal instincts.” He smiled slightly. “I just wonder if you know what you're getting into. Babies are a full-time job. How do you intend to work and care for it, too, without any help?”

She shook her head. Since she didn't even have a job at present, she didn't have an answer for him.

“Will you be able to get a leave of absence?”

The irony of that question hit her and she all but laughed. Instead, she turned her face away so he couldn't see how lost she felt.

Morgan touched her cheek. “Malone?”

“Isn't this interrogation about over?”

“I don't think so. So why don't you make it easy on yourself and just answer my questions?”

“Somehow I don't think this conversation is going to be easy on me no matter what I do.”

He got quiet over that. “I don't mean to make things difficult for you.”

“Don't you?”

“I didn't create this situation, Malone, and the attraction isn't one-sided. Will you at least admit that much?”

She didn't want to, but saw no point in denying it. “Yeah, so? I think the fact I'm pregnant and without a groom shows my judgment to be a bit flawed, so don't let it go to your head.”

His large hand cupped the back of her skull, his fingers gently kneading. The tenderness, after his
previous attitude, was startling. “Everyone makes a mistake now and then. You're not the first.”

“Which mistake are we referring to? Me being pregnant, or my response to you?”

Again, he was quiet.

She decided to make a clean break, to finish her confessions and get away before she became morose again. She slapped her palms on her thighs, turned to him with a take-charge air and said, “Okay. You've worn me down. Besides, the sun is almost completely up. Everyone will be waking soon, and I hope to get out of here before that. I'd just as soon avoid the lengthy goodbyes if I can. So tell me, Sheriff, what other intrusive questions do you have for me before I'm formally dismissed?”

Again, he easily ignored her sarcasm. “How far along are you? You sure as certain don't look pregnant.”

She laughed shortly. “Yeah, just think, if I did look pregnant we probably wouldn't be having this conversation right now!”

“Malone?”

“Three months.” She gave him a crooked grin. “From what I understand, I may not start to show until my fifth, maybe even my sixth month. By then, I'll be a distant memory for you, Morgan.”

“But you're sure you are—”

“Had the test, so yes, I'm sure. Besides, I feel the pregnancy in other ways.”

His gaze went unerringly to her breasts, now thoroughly hidden beneath her sexless robe. Still, she practically squirmed with the need to shield her
self with her hands. She resisted the telltale reaction. “Yep, I'm bigger now,” she said, doing her best to sound flippant, unaffected. Trying not to blush. Her glasses slipped a bit, and she pushed them back up.

“What about your job?”

Hedging, she asked, “What about it?”

“It occurs to me that I don't know all that much about you.”

Her eyes widened and she laughed. “Now there's a revelation for you. Of course, anytime you don't know something, you just fill it in with fiction.”

He touched her cheek with the back of one finger and his expression was regretful. “I admit to making some pretty hasty assumptions. But you haven't helped, Misty, coming on the way you did.”

“I didn't—”

“Yeah, you did.” He smiled just a little, making her heart twist. “You flirt with everyone.”

She sighed. “True enough. I was trying to act cheerful and worry-free so Honey wouldn't suspect anything. Maybe I overdid it just a bit.”

“And maybe I want you bad enough that all you have to do is breathe and it seems like a seduction. At least to me.”

Her gaze shot to his face; she was speechless.

“It's true, you know. I don't think I've ever wanted a woman the way I do you.” His hand opened and his palm cupped her cheek. “Even now, with you looking like a maiden aunt and after you tossed your cookies in the bushes. Even knowing you're pregnant with another man's baby, I still want you.”

She shook her head, words beyond her.

“I know. It's a damnable situation, isn't it?”

“No, it's not.” She was resolute, driven by her emotional fear. “I'm leaving, this morning, right now if you'll just stop questioning me and let me leave without a fuss.”

“It's not that easy, Malone, now that I know you're in trouble.”

“Such an old-fashioned sentiment! Unmarried pregnant women are no longer in
trouble.
They're just…pregnant.” She gave a negligent shrug.

“All right, if you say so.” He looked far from convinced. “So quit hedging and reassure me. Where do you work?”

Knowing that, as sheriff, it would be easy enough for him to check, and not doubting for a moment that he probably would, she sniffed and said, “I only recently left Vision Videos.”

“Vision Videos?”

“A small, privately owned video store. It's located in the town I…used to live in.” She sincerely hoped he missed her small hesitation. The idea of being homeless was still pretty new to her. “It's very small scale, only three employees besides the owner, but the store did incredible business. He'd planned to open another location by the end of the summer and I was going to run it for him.”

“But you're not now?”

“Now, I'm in the process of reevaluating my options.”

He stared, and his softly stroking fingers went still. With disbelief ringing from every word, he said, “You're unemployed?”

“Momentarily, yes.”

His eyes narrowed. “By choice? Because I'll tell you, if your boss fired you for being pregnant, that's against the law….”

“No, he didn't fire me for that.”

Morgan's back stiffened, and his scowl grew darker. “But he did fire you?”

“Actually…yes.”

“Why?”

“He…well, he accused me of doing something I didn't do.”

“Damn it, Malone,” he suddenly burst out, his irritation evident, his patience at an end. “It's like pulling snake teeth to get you to tell the whole—”

“All right!” She shot to her feet, every bit as annoyed as he was. Hands on her hips, she faced him. “All right, damn it. I was convicted of stealing from him. Three hundred dollars. But I didn't do it, only they believed that I did!”

Morgan stood, too, and now he looked livid. “They?”

She waved a hand. “The owner, the lawyer I had to hire, the despicable judge. Everyone.”

Very slowly, Morgan reached out and took hold of her shoulders. “Tell me what happened.”

Misty had no idea if he was angry with her or the situation. She tried to shrug his hands away, but he held on. Her temper was still simmering, though, and she was in no mood for his attitude, so she jerked away and then sat on the swing, giving a hard kick to make it move. Morgan grabbed the swing to stop it and sat beside her. “I'm waiting.”

She crossed her arms over her breasts. He made her feel vulnerable and defensive when she had no reason to feel either one. “Not long after I found out I was pregnant and Kent, my ex, bailed out, I was at work and the cash came up short. The woman who'd worked before me had signed out and made her deposit, so the money had to have been taken during my shift. Only I didn't take it and I don't know where it went. I was in the bathroom—” She glanced at him. “Pregnant women spend a lot of time in the bathroom.”

He made a face. “Go on.”

“Anyway, there was no one in the store, so I made a quick run to the bathroom, and when I came back out, my boss and his girlfriend were just coming in. He was royally ticked that I'd left the counter, even after I explained that the store was empty and that I'd hurried. We argued, because he said I'd missed too much work lately, as well. See, I'd come in late twice, because of the morning sickness. Anyway, he was in a foul mood and being unreasonable, to my mind. I'd never been late or missed work before. Not ever. That's why he was going to make me a manager of the new store, because I was a good worker and dependable and all that.”

“Get to the point, Malone.”

She wanted to smack him. Instead, she said, “He checked the drawer and found out the money was missing. I still can't believe he accused me of stealing it. I'd been working for him for two years. I did everything, from inventory to decorations to promo
tion to sales to orders. I'm the one that helped that business do so well! I thought he trusted me.”

“He called the cops?”

“Yes.” The police had arrived, and she now knew firsthand the procedure used for thiefs. She shuddered with the memory, which wasn't one she intended to share with Morgan. “To make a long story short, the lawyer I hired said they had a good case against me. I was the only one in the store at the time the money was taken, and they found out I was pregnant, that the father of the baby had taken off. They painted me a desperate woman, with plenty of motive to take the money. He suggested I plead guilty to save myself a bundle in lawyer fees and court costs. I…I refused. So my lawyer suggested that I go with a trial to the bench, since that would get it over with quickly.”

“I gather that wasn't the best decision possible?”

She shook her head. “A jury might not have been so autocratic or sexist.”

“Sexist?”

“Yes. The judge was a stern-faced old relic who saw me as a femme fatale just because I'm young and I don't exactly look like a college professor.”

One brow shot up, and his mouth quirked. “You mean because you're sexy as hell and he noticed?”

“That's not funny, Morgan.”

“No, it's not. Sorry.”

He still looked amused, though, which annoyed her to no end. The judge's reaction to her had been salt in the wound. She could still remember how exposed she'd felt, standing before him.

She looked away and said quietly, “He gave me six months probation, made me pay back the three hundred dollars I hadn't even taken, as well as court costs and legal fees, then finished up with a scathing lecture about my responsibilities and morals and hoping I'd learned my lesson.” She snorted. “The lesson I learned was that men see things one way, which is seldom the right or honorable way, and they sure as hell can't be trusted.”

“Misty…”

“Don't use that tone on me, Morgan Hudson. You got what you wanted, all the nitty-gritty details. Well, now I'm done. I want to get out of here. I need to go find a job, and I'm just plain not up to fighting with you anymore, so if you'll excuse me—”

“No.”

“No?”
Incredulous, she turned to face him. “What do you mean, no?”

He stood, then caught her arm and pulled her to her feet. Still holding her, his gaze intent on her face, he said softly, “I mean you're not going anywhere, Malone. You're going to stay right here.”

CHAPTER FOUR

M
ORGAN STARED
at Misty, knowing that despite her outraged frown, there was no way he could let her go, not now. Her shoulders felt narrow and frail beneath his big hands, and he wished like hell she looked pregnant, so she'd be easier to resist. But she didn't. She looked soft and sexy, even with a red nose and those hideous glasses. He wanted her more than ever, but that was beside the point.

At least she wasn't planning on getting married. Though it wasn't any of his damn business, the very idea had set his teeth on edge. She could certainly do better than settling for some clown who didn't want his own child. He swore to himself that was the only reason it bothered him. Then he called himself a fool.

“You can't be off on your own right now. You said it yourself, you don't have a job, and you're sick.”

She gave him a blank stare, as if he was a stranger.

“Damn it, Misty, you know I'm right!”

“I know you're nuts, that's what I know.” He made a grumbling sound, and she said in exasperation, “It's morning sickness, Morgan, that's all. I'm fine the rest of the time. I'm perfectly capable of finding and working a job. Pregnant woman do it all the time, you know.”

Actually, his mind was buzzing with possibilities. If she stayed—and she would because he didn't intend to give her a choice—he could give her a job. He'd long since figured they needed someone to answer the phones at the office, but more often than not folks just called him directly. It was a small county, and the crime level was amazingly low, so he'd been in no rush to hire a new deputy. But a secretary of sorts, someone to keep track of his schedule and forward calls and take notes, that'd be a blessing.

He'd put off the hiring for some time now. He hadn't really wanted anyone else mucking around his offices. But now…

He eyed her belligerent expression and winced. Better to tell her about the job later, when she wasn't so annoyed with him. He gave her a slight shake. “So what do you intend to do?”

“I intend to punch you in the nose if you don't stop manhandling me!”

His fingers flexed on her shoulders, very gently, and he saw her eyes darken. He hadn't hurt her, would never deliberately hurt her. No, her complaint was for an entirely different reason. “Manhandling, huh?” he asked softly. “And here I thought I was being all that was considerate and caring.”

She bit her lip in indecision, then resolutely shook her head. “Not likely, Morgan. You're up to something, I just haven't figured out what yet.”

Her opinion of him was far from flattering, with good reason, he supposed. He dropped his hands and turned to think, only to hear her stomping away. He
caught the back of her robe and drew her up short. “Whoa. Now where are you off to? We have to finish discussing this.”

Through gritted teeth, she said, “There's no
we
to it, and there's nothing to discuss.” She swatted his hands away and jutted her chin toward him. “I'm going in to shower and dress, and then I'm leaving. You won't have to worry about me at all, and your precious brothers will be safe from my lascivious tendencies.”

Damn it, she was trying to make him feel guilty—and succeeding. “You let me think the worst about that, Malone. Admit it.”

“You always assume the worst,” she argued. “I'm not responsible for the way your mind works.”

“No, you're not. But in a way, it is your fault.” She looked ready to erupt, so he added, “I get around you, Malone, and I can barely think at all, much less with any logic. In case you haven't noticed, I've got the hots for you in a really bad way.”

Her face went blank for a split second, and he braced himself for an attack. Then suddenly her mouth twitched, and she burst out laughing. “Is that your way of saying you're sorry?”

Hearing her laugh was nice, even if she was laughing at him. “I suppose you think I owe you that much?”

“Nope.” Her glasses slid down her nose and more hair escaped the rubber band. She looked disheveled and vulnerable and so damn female he felt rigid from his neck all the way down to his toes. “I don't think
you owe me a darn thing, Morgan, except to butt out of my business.”

Shrugging in apology, he whispered, “I can't do that.”

“You,” she said with emphasis, “have no choice in the matter.”

“I can help you, Malone.”

“You want to help?” She turned away from him, then said over her shoulder, “Leave me be.”

Why, Morgan wondered as she stalked away, would she steal money from an employer, but not take money from him when it was freely offered? Especially considering the situation she was in. And not only had she refused the money, she'd been downright livid over the idea. Somehow it didn't fit, and he damn well intended to find out what was going on.

Later. Right now he was busy plotting. She had turned down the money, but maybe she'd accept his help in other ways once he talked her into staying. He wasn't raised to turn his back on a woman in her predicament, especially considering that she
was
part of the family. Whether she liked it or not, that excuse was good enough for him.

He picked up the coffee mugs and her empty juice glass, then headed into the kitchen. He had a few things to take care of before she finished showering, so he might as well get to them. First was that ragtag little car of hers. Removing a few spark plugs ought to do the trick. Getting his brothers out of bed would be a little harder, considering the night they'd all had, but they would rally together for a good cause,
and he definitely considered Misty Malone a good cause. Given how all his brothers had doted on her the past couple of weeks, he had no doubt they'd feel the same.

Twenty minutes later, Morgan was sitting at the kitchen table with a bleary-eyed Casey when Misty walked in. The others hadn't quite made it that far yet, but Morgan knew they'd present themselves shortly.

Casey, with his head propped in his hand, glanced at her and yawned. “Morning, Misty. What're you doing up so early?”

Misty stopped dead in her tracks. Her hair was freshly brushed and twisted into a tidy knot on the top of her head that Morgan thought made her look romantic and amazingly innocent. Her glasses were gone—thank God—and she no longer had a red nose. She wore a yellow cotton camisole with cutoff shorts and strappy little sandals and she looked good enough to eat.

Morgan drew in a shuddering breath with that image and steered his wayward thoughts off the erotic and onto the essential.

Rather than answer Casey, her accusing gaze swung toward Morgan and there was murder in her eyes. He grinned. He'd rather have her fighting mad than looking morose any day. Leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest, Morgan said, “What's with the suitcase, Malone?”

Casey, who hadn't noticed the luggage yet, sat up straight. His gaze bounced back and forth several times between the suitcase and Misty's face, and he
looked more alert than he had only five seconds ago. “You're not leaving, are you?”

Misty ground her teeth, then whipped around to face Casey with a falsely bright smile plastered in place. “'Fraid so, kiddo. I have things to do. But I did enjoy my visit. Tell your dad thanks for me, okay?”

She started to move, but Casey jumped up, looking panicked, and all but blocked her way. “But Dad'll kill me if you leave without saying goodbye! I mean, Honey will be upset and that'll upset Dad. Just hang around for breakfast, okay?” He glanced at Morgan for backup. “Tell her, Uncle Morgan. Shouldn't she stay and have breakfast?”

Morgan nodded slowly. “I do believe you're right, Casey.”

“Ah, no… It's better if I—”

The kitchen door swung open and Jordan dragged himself in. He was wearing a pair of unsnapped jeans and scratching his belly while yawning hugely. His hair was still mussed and he looked like he could have used another six hours of sleep, at least. The last Morgan had seen him last night, three of the local women were trying to talk him into taking each of them home. It was a hell of a predicament for his most reserved brother.

Morgan had not one whit of sympathy for him.

Because Jordan had taken the path from the garage—where he kept his apartment—to the kitchen, the bottoms of his feet were wet. When he saw Misty packed up and ready to go, he nearly slipped on the linoleum floor in his surprise.

Morgan caught him, then pushed him upright. If Jordan knocked himself out, he'd be no help at all.

In his usual mellow tones, Jordan asked, “What's going on here?” He dried his feet on a throw rug while quietly studying everyone in turn.

Morgan feigned a casual shrug. “Misty says she's leaving.”

Casey crossed his arms, ready to add his two cents' worth. “She's not even going to tell anyone goodbye.”

Looking from Casey's disapproving face to Misty's red cheeks before finally meeting Morgan's gaze, Jordan frowned. Not a threatening frown, as Morgan favored, but rather a contemplative one. Jordan was no dummy and caught on quickly that this was the reason he'd been summoned from his bed. He fastened his jeans now that he knew there was a lady present, then took several cautious steps forward, making certain not to slip again. Holding Misty's shoulders, he asked softly, “What's wrong, sweetheart? Why are you sneaking off like this?”

Morgan didn't like his brother's intimate tone at all. And he sure as hell didn't like Jordan touching her. He glowered at Misty as he said, “I don't think she wanted anyone to know she was going.”

Jordan glanced at Morgan, then crossed his arms over his chest and regarded Misty with quiet speculation. “Is that true?”

After a long, drawn out sigh, Misty dropped her heavy bag and propped her hands on her hips. “I'm not sneaking, exactly. You all knew I was going to be leaving today.”

Gabe spoke from the doorway where he'd negligently propped himself, unnoticed. “Not true.” He gave Morgan a look, then came into the kitchen and dropped into a chair with a theatrical yawn. He, too, was bare-chested, but he wore loose cotton pull-on pants. “You said you couldn't stay, Misty, but you didn't say a damn thing about taking off today at six-thirty in the morning. Hell, the birds aren't even awake yet, so I'd definitely call that sneaking. What's up, sweetheart?”

Misty looked ready to expire. Morgan took pity on her and pulled out a chair. “Why don't you at least sit down, Malone, while you do your explaining?” He reached for her arm, but she sidestepped him. Breathing hard, she glared at them all, then said, “I'm leaving, that's all there is to it. I'm already packed and I want to get an early start. I'm not good at long goodbyes, so…if you'll excuse me?”

She picked up her bag and headed for the door. Her car was parked at the side of the house, close to the back door. There was a flurry of arguments from Casey, Jordan and Gabe, but Morgan had expected no less of them. It was why he'd so rudely dragged them out of their warm, comfortable beds. Unfortunately, Misty wasn't going to be swayed by them.

She stormed out of the house in righteous fury, and they all trailed behind, talking at once. Morgan listened to their arguments for why she should stay and even commended his brothers for making some good points.

Misty did an admirable job of ignoring them.

When Jordan realized how serious she was, he took the suitcase from her hand while stabbing Morgan with curious looks, as if waiting for
him
to stop her somehow.

Morgan almost laughed. He'd known there was no way he'd be able to bring her around. If he wasn't missing his guess, he was the biggest reason she was so set on going. That was why he'd pulled the spark plugs, as insurance until he got her over her pique and could make her see reason.

After Jordan stowed her suitcase in the backseat, he reached for Misty and pulled her into a fierce hug. To Morgan, seething at the sight of Misty snuggled up against Jordan's bare chest, the embrace didn't look at all familial. He was just about to tear them apart when Jordan leaned back the tiniest bit to look at her.

“Where will you be staying?” Jordan asked. “Is there a number where we can call you?”

Misty appeared stumped for just a moment, which made Morgan very suspicious, then she brightened. “I'm sort of moving around at the moment. But I'll let you know when I get settled, okay?”

Morgan continued to study her. It was amazing, even to him, but he could read her like a book, and he knew without a doubt she didn't have any place to stay. He wanted to throttle her, and he wanted to hold her tight.

Gabe stepped up next for his own hug, and he even dared to kiss her on the cheek, lingering for what Morgan considered an inappropriate amount of time. Morgan gave serious thought to throwing
Gabe back into the basement. “If you change your mind,” Gabe said, “promise you'll come back.”

“I promise. And thank you.”

Casey shook his head. “My death will be on your hands, because Dad is still going to kill me.”

Morgan silently applauded Casey's forlorn expression, but Misty didn't buy it. She actually grinned. “Your father wouldn't hurt a hair on your head, and you know it! Now give me a hug.” With a crooked smile, Casey obeyed.

And even that made Morgan grind his teeth. Casey was a good head taller than Misty with shoulders much wider. Morgan didn't like it at all. Hell, so far they'd all touched her more than he had!

Misty didn't even bother looking at Morgan. He crossed his arms and waited until she'd gotten behind the wheel and pulled her door shut, then he leaned back against a tall oak tree. He considered himself patience personified.

Jordan stepped up to him with an intent frown. It was unlike Jordan to be so disgruntled, and Morgan raised a taunting brow. “Sorry to see her go?”

Jordan didn't rile easily. “You got me out of bed just to tell her goodbye? I figured you'd stop her somehow. Honey's going to be damn upset when she finds out we let her leave.”

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