Heartbreak Ranch (4 page)

“I do,” she interrupted flatly.

Annie regarded her steadily, her gaze reflecting all the wisdom and compassion she'd drawn on to raise Julianne to adulthood. “He hired a fancy lawyer out there, and they paid some visits to a few of the newspapers, threatening libel lawsuits. Since most of the details they were writing
about you were speculation, they backed off quickly enough. And then he went to see Andrew.”

Shock held her still. “Andrew? Why?”

Annie shook her head. “Jed didn't share the details with me. But there was murder in his eye when he left here. I don't think things went too well for your ex.”

Julianne closed her eyes, embarrassment clawing up inside her. Sir Jed, riding to the rescue. He wouldn't have trusted that she would be capable of dealing with the mess on her own. No, he'd just figured that spoiled, frivolous Julianne, party girl of the Keys, lacked the intelligence to extricate herself from the situation.

She welcomed the anger boiling in her veins. “What could he possibly have hoped to gain by seeing Andrew?”

“I don't know, honey. I've said too much already. You'll just have to take that up with Jed.”

Julianne rose, her fingers clutching the edge of the table tightly. “Yes,” she agreed grimly. “I think that's exactly what I'm going to have to do.”

W
hen the door to his study banged open, Jed looked up, annoyed. But seeing Julianne sailing toward him with fire in her eyes and fingers curled had him rising, immediately wary. He rounded the desk toward her, involuntarily admiring the sight of her in a storm. Quick reflexes had him dodging the fist she aimed at his chin. He didn't quite manage to avoid the one she sent into his midsection. Air hissed out between his clenched teeth before he could prevent it. The little wildcat had always had a hell of a right. He sidestepped to evade the knee aimed to damage his chances for future offspring and caught her fists in his hands. Pulling her toward him off balance, he gave her a shake. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

“You…low-down, scum-sucking…sneak!” She threw the hair out of her eyes with a toss of her head and attempted to tug free. “Let me go! I'd like to break your stubborn, know-it-all jaw for you!”

He knew from experience she'd try to do just that, so
he gave her another shake. “Settle down. I'm not letting go until you promise to stop taking shots at me.”

She gave another mighty jerk, but he held firm, his gaze locked with her murderous one. At first she remained stubbornly silent, reluctant to give her word. Once she did, he knew he could trust her to keep it. A promise from Julianne had always been gold. It came, he supposed, from a lifetime of disappointment over the ones her father had broken.

“Let me go.” Some of the fury had dissipated from her voice, but her eyes remained hot. When his grip didn't loosen, she added sulkily, “I promise that no matter how much you deserve it, I won't knock your block off.”

He released her hands and propped his hips against the edge of the desk. “You'd try, anyway.”

Her eyes narrowed at his deliberately nonchalant tone, and she asked, too sweetly, “How's your stomach? Did I puncture anything important?”

Because a nagging ache still lingered where she'd caught him off guard, he gave her a pitying smile. “Did you get lucky and land a punch? I didn't notice.”

Normally he would have enjoyed the sight of her heating up all over again. Right now he was too busy wondering what had lit a match to her temper this time. “Mind telling me what brought on this tantrum?”

“This ‘tantrum,'” she said, in a measured tone that left no doubts about her lingering fury, “was brought on by discovering you went behind my back. Did you think I wouldn't find out?”

He went still, every muscle in his body drawing up in tension. His voice inflectionless, he asked, “Find out what, exactly?”

Her eyes glittered, and he could tell she was longing to throw something. “That you'd leaped on your white horse
and gone charging to the rescue in Florida! What did you think you were going to do, I wonder, make it all disappear by taking on the police and media in one fell swoop?”

He released a breath, and his body relaxed, a fraction at a time. “It worked, didn't it?”

His quiet words effectively silenced her, and he could read the instant distress in her eyes. Remorse flared, only to be ruthlessly pushed aside. Somehow he'd known she'd react this way. That's why he'd done his best to ensure she never discovered the part he'd played in untangling that mess in Florida. But damned if he was going to apologize for it. If truth be known, he'd just as soon have it out in the open. There were a few home truths Julianne Buchanan needed to hear.

“I've gotten friendly with a cattle buyer in Florida. I usually visit him when I'm in the state. When the scandal broke, he recognized your name and called me, in case I hadn't heard about it from you.” He made no attempt to mask the bitterness in his voice when he added, “Of course, I hadn't.”

“There was a reason for that.”

“There was no reason for that,” he disputed, letting the anger that had simmered inside him for the past several weeks rise to the surface. “And no excuse for it. It was a slap at the people who care about you the most. How were we supposed to feel, to hear that you were in that kind of trouble and never bothered to let us know?”

She looked at him, her eyes troubled. “I told you, I didn't want my problems to hurt anyone here.”

“You hurt us by shutting us out.” His words scored a direct hit. For a moment, Julianne's full lips fought a tremble, before she made a visible effort to firm them. A kinder man might have stopped to soothe. Jed had never pretended to be kind.

“You might think you were trying to spare us, but it looked like you just didn't give a damn. I went to Florida to haul your butt out of trouble, because I knew Annie and Gabe would be worried sick about you when the news reached them. So if you want to come flying in here begging for a fight because I saved you from most of the misery you found yourself in, I just might oblige you.”

The hand that she reached behind her was not quite steady as she pulled a chair close enough to sink into it. Once he'd finished with the cops and the press, his next urge had been to go after her and bring her home. It had taken more self-control than he'd known he'd possessed not to do so. He didn't ever remember being as cold-bloodedly furious as he had been on that trip. She was lucky he'd realized the depth of the emotion and had returned without seeing her.

She moistened her lips. “What…exactly how much do you know?”

“Everything,” he said flatly. “I got a lawyer to take on the media, and we hired a private investigator to track your whereabouts that night. It took him about six hours to line up witnesses who could positively state you'd been in St. Petersburg on the night of the raid, and that satisfied the police. After another few days, he discovered there were no witnesses willing to testify to seeing you that night on the yacht Richfield was running the drugs in on.”

Because he knew her so well, he could see the faint wince at his words.

“Heroin's a nasty business, Jules.”

Her eyes were wide and sober. “I knew about Andrew's problems with drinking and gambling. But I swear to you, finding out that he was involved in drug smuggling was a shock.”

“I figured that.” Julianne had a deep-seated honesty
about her that would never have allowed her to be a part of something so contemptible. Even in his deepest fury, he'd never questioned her involvement. “One of the reasons it was so easy for the investigator to verify your movements was because you hadn't just been in St. Petersburg for a day or two. You'd been living there for over four months. Alone.”

Her hands smoothed down her jeans-clad thighs, but she didn't look away. “Yes.”

That single word, offered with no other explanation, sent little bubbles of anger firing through his veins. “You'd left your husband, but never saw fit to let us in on that, either. For someone who claims to care, that's pretty shabby treatment.”

Her temper, always easily stoked, blazed anew. “It was my decision, my life. I don't have to report in to you. Did you let me know about every single thing that was happening in your life? Did you fill me in on every change you made here—probably without Harley's knowledge? Not hardly. So back off. I was trying to do the best I could, and things got out of control in a way I never dreamed possible.”

He clenched his hands to keep from reaching for her. “Those ‘things' could have sucked you in with them. Damn near did, as a matter of fact.”

She bounced out of her chair, started to pace. “So what are you looking for? A thank-you for butting into my business? Well, thanks.” The sneer in her voice was unmistakable. “Forgive me if I happen to think that the police just might have discovered my innocence in their own time.”

“Sure,” he jeered. “Maybe even before you spent a couple of days in the cell next to your beloved ex. Maybe the media would have arrived at the same conclusion, or
maybe you could have just batted those pretty brown eyes at the reporters and convinced them to stop slandering you, regardless.”

She whirled on him, chest heaving with emotion, hands fisted at her sides. He paused a moment to enjoy the sight. He wondered if there was another woman born who looked as good with a snarl on her lips, the flush of anger on her face.

“I don't like secrets being kept that concern me.”

“We're even then,” he retorted. “I didn't much care for the secrets I learned you'd been keeping from us.” Then, because he couldn't help himself, he asked, “Why did you, Julianne? Why didn't you get rid of Richfield for good years ago? It surely didn't take you this long to see what he was.”

For a moment he thought she wouldn't answer. Or, if she did, that it would be only to wish him a speedy departure to hell. But then she jammed her hands in her pockets, pulling the denim tight against those long, slender thighs, and gave a sigh. “I made a promise. That's what a marriage vow is supposed to be, isn't it? And I guess I didn't want to admit I'd failed.”

The simple emotion in her words hit him like a brick. Yeah, that was Julianne. Loyal to a fault, unwilling to break her word once she'd given it. He remembered when she'd been about fourteen, and he'd presented her with front-row tickets to see some singer she was all gooey-eyed about. She'd already promised to attend a friend's dance recital and have dinner with her afterward. Watching her fret over the decision had been almost painful to watch. But in the end, she'd accompanied her friend, as she'd said she would.

Something unfamiliar settled in the pit of his stomach and gentled his voice. “You didn't fail. Loyalty can only
be pushed so far. I never understood what you saw in Richfield, anyway.”

“He needed me.” Her simple words struck hard at his chest. “I'd never been needed before. Not like that.” She shook her head when he would have spoken. “Oh, I know that on the surface it looked like he had everything. His father was a shipping magnate, his mother a film star. When they died in that plane crash, he inherited a fortune, but he was emotionally adrift. He was searching for something to stabilize his life, and he thought I could anchor it. I thought so, too.” Her fingers pleated the denim covering her knee, the act seeming to require a great deal of attention. “Even after I found out about the booze and the gambling, I still thought I could help him.”

“And when you found out about the other women?”

Her gaze slowly rose to meet his, and something in those wide brown eyes made him feel small. “That's when I moved out.”

He looked away. “I wish now that I'd broken more than his nose.”

Acerbically she observed, “Now, why didn't I think of that? There's nothing like a good beating to make someone straighten up, is there?”

His fingers flexed in memory. “What it lacked in finesse it made up for in sheer satisfaction.”

She regarded him for a moment, visibly torn between the urge to argue and the need to explain. He didn't know which of them was more surprised when the need won out. “I don't know how to make you understand. But I felt sorry for him. I guess, in a way, I still do.”

That had his gaze jerking back to hers, incredulity filling his voice. “What's to feel sorry for? A poor little rich boy who couldn't find the strength to face his life without a
series of crutches to help him? He's no kind of man at all.”

She smiled crookedly. “Not everyone has your strength, Jed.”

“Or yours, Jules. You're the strongest woman I know, and that leech knew it, too. Like a parasite, he latched onto you as if he could force you to be strong for him. I saw that the first time I met him. I'm only sorry it took you this long to see it as well.”

She shoved a hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face. “Well, it must be immensely gratifying for you to be proved right. I'm not a fool, Jed. I know it was the start of the gambling that clouded my judgment. Harley will never want to stop, but I thought there was a chance to help Andrew….” When he turned away with a softly muttered curse, her voice went wry. “Correction. I
am
a fool. But I had to try. I've seen firsthand the kind of havoc gambling can wreak on a life. I lost my father to it. This time I wasn't going to surrender without a fight.”

Each of her words stabbed at him like darts of pain. He, better than most, knew just how much Julianne had lost to Harley's addiction. It had cost her her childhood, and a man who should have learned long ago how to act like a father. Recalling the phone call he'd had with Harley minutes before Julianne had come into the room, he felt certain doubt about whether things would ever change. A man couldn't be forced into becoming a decent parent and doing right by his daughter.

“Is it going to be a problem for you, Jed? Me coming home?”

He turned back to look at her, leaning his weight against the edge of the desk. “No. It's not a problem for me.”

She released a breath, and he imagined he could see a little tension seep out of her limbs. “Good. I came back
because I've missed this place. All I want to do for the next few days is ride all over the ranch and get reacquainted with my favorite spots.” Wistfulness traced through her words. “I didn't do much riding in Florida. It just seemed to make me homesick. And I haven't even been on a horse since I've gotten back. Maybe I'll ride out with Gabe.”

“Gabe doesn't do a lot of riding anymore. At least, not on a horse. He'd be the last to admit it, but arthritis has settled in one hip pretty bad. Some days he has a tough enough time getting in and out of the pickup.”

His words brought a hint of a frown to her face, but she lifted a shoulder. “Well, I know my way around.”

“You're not riding out by yourself for a couple of days,” he said flatly.

She arched a brow at him, unimpressed. “Says who?”

With a notable lack of success, he tried for patience. “It would be one thing if you just intended to go for a ride, but you don't. You'll be all over the ranch, gone from dawn to sunset, and riding that long by yourself when you're not used to it is just plain foolish. I won't be around, and I don't want to have to worry about you getting yourself into trouble while I'm away.”