Lonestar Secrets (12 page)

"Coke?"

"I'll take that," he said, knowing she meant any soft drink she happened to have in the fridge. He accepted the cold Mountain Dew she got out of the rusting refrigerator for him. "This place is going to take a lot of work and money."

"You should have seen it the day we moved in," she said, a slight smile tilting her lips. "Have a seat."

He pulled out a shaky chair and sat down gingerly. To delay the inevitable, he popped the top and took a sip of his drink. The cold rush of liquid wet his burned throat. He set the drink on the table and watched Shannon as she sipped her cocoa and avoided his gaze. She knew why he was here, and she was as nervous as he. Neither of them wanted to broach the subject, but he'd have to do it. He cleared his throat.

She finally lifted her gaze to meet his. "I assume you've thought about my suggestion?" The muscles in her long smooth neck convulsed, and she glanced away.

"Yeah. I decided you're right. Marriage is the best solution."

Her startled gaze flew up to meet his again. "I ... it is? I mean, great."

"You laid it out pretty clearly. A stable home with both parents, the bonding that is best for the girls, no court battle that will hurt Faith. Or Kylie."

He realized Shannon was no more pleased at the thought of marrying him than he was of marrying her. "When do you want to do this?" he asked.

She circled her cup with her hands. "Are you sure? I mean, this is a big step."

"Yeah, it is. But let's not have any false expectations going into this. I'm doing it only because it's best for my daughter."

"And for Kylie," she said. Her color began to come back to her cheeks and she straightened. "I expect you to treat Kylie with the same love and devotion you give to Faith. She needs a father and Faith needs a mother."

"Agreed," he said through clenched teeth. "But you've got to let me pick the time to tell Faith. I have to prepare her. Her memories of Blair are precious to us both, and I talk about her mother to her all the time. It will be hard for her if I just announce it with no preparation." A sense of loss descended on him. This vivid personality here in the kitchen with him would soon overshadow any memories Faith had of her mother.

Her tired gaze held a challenge. "As long as it doesn't drag on too long. Kids are smarter than you realize, Jack. Kylie knew the minute she saw Faith that they're twins. Faith suspects something, I'm sure. For someone who hates secrets, you're suddenly willing to hang on to this one."

That stung, but he didn't bother defending himself. He was only looking out for his daughter. Faith had talked about Kylie, but she was only five. He doubted she would put together something like that. "There's no waiting period for marriage in Texas. We can get this done as soon as you like."

She glanced away, but not before he saw the glimmer of pain in her eyes. "Have you ever been married?" he asked. She shook her head, and he felt as low as a sidewinder. She'd probably dreamed of what her wedding would someday look like. Blair had planned every detail of their wedding for six months.

But he was no Prince Charming especially when he was being forced into it. "Do you need time to get a dress?"

She tilted her chin up and met his gaze. "This is hardly a love match, Jack. I thought we'd just go see the justice of the peace and have it cutand-dried."

"I'd rather get married in church," he said.

Her pale brows arched, and she blinked. "Ch-church?"

He nodded. "This marriage might be for our children, but I mean to honor the vows and I hope you do too. This won't be an open marriage where you get to sleep around."

"Of course not!" Color flooded her face and she stood. "Just because I made one mistake doesn't mean my morals are questionable. Do you make a practice of insulting your wife? If so, I might reconsider this idea."

He stood, towering over her and hating himself for the tactic. "You've agreed and we're both stuck with this deal. You've got me lassoed and on the ground." Was he trying to get her to back out by being deliberately unpleasant?

He took off his cowboy hat and ran his hand through his hair. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm not normally such a jerk. We're both under a lot of stress. Can we start over? When would you like to get married? I'd like you to have a pretty dress, and I'm happy to pay for it."

"I'll buy my own dress," she said. Her voice went husky. "Let's plan for next Saturday, ten days away. I'll need to go to Alpine to look for something "

"How about we have Faith and Kylie be flower girls?" he said.

Her gaze searched his. "Are you sure you want to tell Faith right away that you're remarrying?"

He saw the gratitude in her eyes. "It's not like you can just move into the house with no explanation. I think the girls will squeal at the thought."

"I know they will as long as you're sure. I'll need to get them dresses."

"I'll have Enrica get them."

"Enrica?"

"My housekeeper, nanny, whatever you want to call her. She was Blair's nanny, too, and she adores Faith."

"I'd rather get the dresses. I'll want them to go with mine."

"Fine." He dug out his wallet and slapped five hundred dollars on the table. "Get whatever you need for them."

"I can pay for the dresses."

She tried to give the money back, but he stepped away. "It's my contribution to the wedding. You shouldn't have to foot the whole bill. I'll check in with you tomorrow." He fled the house so he didn't have to look at her forlorn face.

8

THE CREAKING OF THE OLD WINDMILL KEPT SHANNON AWAKE FAR INTO THE night. At least she told herself that was why she tossed and turned on the old mattress. What kind of future was she setting herself up for, marrying a man she didn't love? Or know? Some kind of insanity must have swept over her for her to suggest such an idea.

She rolled over, plunging her face into the sheets scented with sage from the outdoors. It was so hot the heat shimmered in the air. She would have to get up in three hours, and she hadn't slept more than fifteen minutes. Her eyes drifted shut until something creaked overhead. Clutching the thin sheet to her chest, she bolted upright in the bed and listened to the house, which had fallen silent again. Barely daring to breathe, she strained to hear past the blood pounding in her ears. There, the noise came again, right over her head.

On the rug beside the bed, Moses growled. He stood, and the moonlight through the window illuminated the bristling fur on his neck. The sight caused the hair on the back of Shannon's neck to do the same.

The creak came again, and she looked up at the ceiling. Was someone in the attic?

There was no one to send to check it out it was her house, her job now. But she wasn't going up there. The best defense was retreat. With a gun. But it was all she could do to reach over and retrieve the revolver from the bedside stand. Her bare feet hit the cool floor, but she didn't take time to find her slippers. Moses moved to her side, and she curled her fingers around his collar. The sensation of his warm fur strengthened her resolve. Her feet knew where to avoid the creaks in her bedroom floor, and she moved across the dark room to the door.

It opened with a whisper. She sidled into the hallway with the gun trembling in her hand. She faced the direction of the attic door at the end of the narrow hall. Even from here, a draft swirled around her bare ankles. Squinting, she could make out the stairway.

The door to the attic stood wide open.

A chill raced down her spine. She had to get out of here. With her hand still clutching the dog's collar, she raced for the steps down to the first floor. Growling and lunging, Moses tried to tug away from her toward the attic stairs, but she hung on to him. With him beside her, the fear wasn't overpowering.

Her bare feet pounded down the steps. By now, the terror had climbed on top of her back and was digging in its claws. She released Moses long enough to struggle with the lock on the front door. The dog didn't try to go back upstairs, but he kept turning his head to stare up at the landing.

And he kept growling.

Panting, she fumbled with the dead bolt, but her hands were stiff and it wouldn't unlock. She dared a glance over her back at the stairs but saw nothing. Yet. She renewed her efforts at the door until her thumb found the right way to flip the lever. The old door creaked open, and she shoved the screen door so hard it banged back against the siding. She winced and glanced behind her again, but no dark form raced toward her from the stairs. The cool rush of air cleared her head when she stepped out onto the porch.

She'd left her cell phone on the nightstand, but she wasn't going back after it. The cool dirt on her bare feet made her realize she was hardly in a position to summon help. No shoes, no phone. Her gaze touched her Jeep. No keys. She'd left them on the kitchen counter.

Had she overreacted? Moses was still growling, so she didn't think so. Still, it could have been an animal in the attic.

An animal didn't enter by the stairs or open doors.

Shannon gulped. Someone was inside the house. She took a tighter grip on the pistol. "Come with me, Moses," she said. Her voice shook. She and the dog mounted the steps again. She put her hand on the screen door handle but couldn't bring herself to pull it open. What if the guy was right inside the door waiting for her?

She had the gun. That should scare him off. With sudden decision, she jerked the door open and stepped into the entry. The darkness closed around her. She raced to the kitchen and reached the counter. Her outflung hand touched the bowl that had held her soup last night. Her fingers moved on until she touched the keys. Snatched them from the counter. Turned to run back outside.

And ran up against an immovable object. A giant of a man.

His hands came down on her arms, pinning her hands to her sides. He gave a soft chuckle. Shannon writhed away from his grip, but she couldn't shake his hands from her arms enough to bring up the gun. The near silent struggle in the dark kitchen, punctuated only by gasps, was the stuff of nightmares.

Moses barked and lunged at the man, who kicked him away, but the dog kept coming. Shannon heard fabric tear and realized Moses had taken a bite out of the guy's trousers, but the big man had been unperturbed.

"Where's my money?" he whispered in her ear.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" She wrenched her arm away, but his fingers didn't give.

His hand came up and wrapped around her hair, loose on her shoulders. "Pretty hair," he said. "It might not look so good torn out by the roots."

She winced when his grip tightened painfully. "I don't have any money." Her mind raced. Couldn't he tell by looking at this place that there was nothing of value here?

His voice could cut a diamond. "Don't play games with me. It's not ... healthy. We both know you have the money and we want it back. You've got a day to turn it over or someone you love will bear the consequences.

The pain in her head made her faint. "Don't hurt my daughter! I don't know what money you're talking about. I'd give it to you if I had it." What did she have? An old ranch house that was falling down around her ears. Nothing a man like this could want.

"I don't like games," he said in a cold voice. "I wouldn't hurt your daughter what kind of a man do you think I am? But your friend Mary Beth, well, that's another story. You've got twenty-four hours to hand it over."

"Mary Beth?" She should have pressed her friend for details. Shannon's gut had told her something was wrong. "What kind of trouble is she in?"

He grinned, but the grimace held no mirth. "Her worst nightmare. Me. Yours, too, if you don't listen." His grip tightened on her hair. "I thought I'd stop by and give you motivation to listen to me."

If she could bring the pistol up and point it at him, she'd have a chance, but her hands had no room to maneuver. A flash of inspiration struck and she quit struggling. Standing passively with the man's hands gripping her, she waited.

Her acquiescence slackened his grasp. "You're going to cooperate, huh?" He sounded disappointed.

"Just tell me what you want," she said, keeping her voice resigned. "What money? How much?"

"I thought you were through playing games. The boss won't be happy." He leaned down and his breath touched her face. It smelled of cloves.

She turned her head and his lips grazed her cheek instead of her lips. His grip loosened even more, and she managed to bring up the gun and jab it into his ribs. "Let go of me," she snarled.

"Wha " He took a step back.

The added room gave her courage to point the gun higher, right at his heart. "I don't have any money. I don't know anything" She leaned over to flip on the light.

Her movement allowed him to whip around and dash for the door. As the bright light spilled into the room, Shannon caught only a glimpse of a broad back and dark hair above a denim jacket. She reflexively fired the gun. The bullet dug into the wall at his side, spewing plaster.

The screen door banged, and she heard the sound of feet running across the gravel. The wall propped her up or she would have fallen. Moses licked at her hand. "Thanks for helping me, boy." She sank to her knees and buried her face in his fur. His scent and warmth strengthened her. She stood again, holding tight to the gun, then hurried out to the porch with the keys. She should go upstairs and get dressed, but she had to get out of here before the guy came back.

She had no doubt he would be back. With a grudge.

WHEN THE SUN THREW A GOLDEN BLANKET OVER THE BLUE HILLS AROUND the ranch, Jack hadn't slept a wink. He'd been all too happy to climb out of bed at six and tend to the livestock. It gave him something to do to forget his circumstances.

By the time Enrica called him in for breakfast, he had come full circle back to the realization that there was no other way to ensure Faith stayed with him. He'd just agreed to marry a woman he didn't know. And while that was a scary thought, another frightening situation loomed.

He had to tell his parents. Today. This morning. Even now he could hear the rumble of his father's big Caddy.