One True Heart (29 page)

“Where to?” he asked, already heading toward his farm.

“Not your place. Everyone knows you're looking for her,” Millanie said calmly. “The guy who took her could be hanging out in the bookstore right now. If he's one of those invisible people we almost know, you can bet he's taking notes.”

“I agree.” Johnny fought down anger. The farm was the only safe place he knew, but this time it might not be safe for Kare.

“We can't go back to the bed-and-breakfast. If he's been following Kare he'll look there right after he looks at her apartment.” Millanie rose up as they headed down Lone Oak Road. “I'll tell you where to turn off. I know just the place.”

As she gave Johnny directions, Drew asked Kare questions.

Kare said that she'd just stepped out of her car when someone shoved what felt like a gun against her side and grabbed her bag. At first she thought it was just a robbery, but then he said, “Is this your research?” She knew then she was dealing with the man she'd been looking for.

Curling into a ball, Kare looked tiny in the rearview mirror as she added in a whisper, “He said he'd come back after dark and untie me as long as he got what he wanted off my computer, but I knew he was lying. When he came back, if he came back, it would be to kill me. I could feel it when I touched him. The guy didn't have a soul. I've heard about people like that, but I've never met one.”

Johnny saw Drew hug her to him as if his little sister were freezing.

“Turn off here,” Millanie said to Johnny. She pointed to a few dirt lines that looked more like a trail than a road.

“There's nothing down this path,” he argued.

“Yes, there is. My house.”

Johnny didn't say a word. He just drove as Drew and his sister talked. Both seemed calm. At peace now that they were together. Johnny couldn't help but feel like each other was all they had.

After they made a few turns on a road that hadn't been used since Model T days, an old house came into view. Millanie spoke softly as Johnny slowed the truck. “We have to be careful. This guy might be involved with enough people that even if we told only a few where we are, he'd hear about it.”

They all agreed.

As Johnny cut the engine, he said, “I'm telling my grandpa I found Kare and I'm running away with her to China.”

“What?” everyone said at once.

Johnny shrugged. “When I was a kid he used to tell me that if I ever found the perfect girl to run away and marry her even if I had to go all the way to China. Pops will know I have her and she's safe. He'll call off the search.”

“This guy might go to your place, Drew,” Millanie said as she shifted in her seat.

“Before he gets near my unlocked door, my friend Luke will spot him. I'll give him a call and let him know what's going on, but I won't say a word about where we're at. I agree, the fewer people who know the better.”

No one made a move to open the truck doors. They were somehow cocooned inside. Together and finally speaking honestly. No more secrets.

Johnny leaned his arm over his seat, wishing he could touch Kare.

“What did you find, Kare?” Millanie asked, no longer worrying that Drew might hear.

“Something John said got me thinking, so I began putting the pieces back together one more time and this time they fit.” Kare leaned forward and put her hand on Johnny's shoulder.

“Something I said?” Johnny turned to her, wishing she were close enough for him to hold her. He settled for laying his big hand over her small one. “I doubt I'd be much help.”

“Yes, you were. Don't you remember when we were talking about the characteristics of the guy I was looking for, you said that he sounded like a two-headed snake. Well, when I was working late last night I figured it out. Millanie wasn't looking for one man, she was looking for two.”

“But these guys are always alone,” Millanie said to no one. “That's part of their MO. They blend in.”

“I found two very different men, that if I put them together, they match every point on your profile. Maybe one leads and the other is in the background, but they're both needed to make the operation work. Only one got in too deep in playing the wealthy guy in town.”

“Do you know their names?” Drew asked.

“Just Max Dewy. He got greedy with the drugs, and once he was arrested his background story began to fall apart.”

Johnny hit the steering wheel so hard the truck rocked. “I knew it. I swear I'm getting downright psychic.”

“And the other?” Drew said, showing no interest in Johnny's newly discovered gift.

“He moved here four or five months ago and took another man's name and job. I traced him as far as Dallas and it looks like he's still working with his contacts there to send money. He's in Harmony, though, I can almost hear his footsteps, but he's using another identity.”

Drew's sharp mind was following his sister's clues. “Maybe he was sent to check up on Max. From what Johnny says, the guy wasn't doing a very good job of blending in with the crowd.”

Kare nodded her agreement. “I'm not positive, but I think he was the man in the parking lot and the man who kidnapped me. I never saw his face, but they were both medium build and the man in the parking lot looked nervous. So did the guy who tied me up. He kept going back over the knots again and again as if he feared he might not have gotten them right.”

“There could be a third man,” Drew guessed.

“No,” Millanie answered. “It's too tight an operation. Having someone working for them would only open up a hole in the system.” She leaned back as if suddenly tired. “I see now why so many arrows pointed to Max. He had another man handling things even when he went to jail. For some reason, he must have run out of money and started branching out into other illegal activity like drug smuggling. Maybe he spent too much of the company's money and was desperate. It was probably between robbing a bank or dealing drugs.”

“With both pilots, bringing the drugs in would be easy.” Kare leaned forward closer to Johnny as she spoke to Millanie.

“Getting them distributed might be a little harder,” Millanie added. “These guys might have started their careers running drugs, but they'd moved up and this would be foreign territory to them.”

Johnny nodded. “And of course storage was a problem until they noticed my barn. It would have been so easy. Just watch me go into town or work the back section and they'd have all day to move the drugs into my barn. Scarlet was so wrapped up with Max, she probably didn't even notice.”

Drew followed his line of thinking. “When Scarlet left, Max had no reason to come around. He couldn't get to his supply. He no longer had Scarlet to tip him off to when you'd be gone.”

Johnny laughed. “He must have thought Wendell was guarding the place while I was in jail, or maybe Max and Scarlet really were out of town.” Johnny didn't much care. “If Max is half of a team, that means he knows who the other man is, the one who kidnapped Kare. All we have to do is get to Max and beat a name out of him.”

Drew didn't argue, but the captain objected. “We keep Kare safe and let the sheriff worry about Max and his partner. I'll call her on her cell and give her all the details we know.”

Millanie finally opened the passenger door to the truck.
“We're surrounded by McAllen and Matheson land. When I call Alex with facts, I'll have her smuggle us some supplies. Until she gets this mysterious partner of Max in jail, none of us are safe.”

“I'll need to talk to the sheriff also. My backup files are stored in my office. She'll never find them if I don't tell her where they are.” Kare let Johnny help her down from the truck, and she didn't seem to mind when he held her tight for just a moment longer than needed.

They moved to the porch of the old homestead that belonged to the first McAllens to settle the land. Building supplies and tools had been delivered and now took up half the porch. Johnny rigged up a bench for Millanie to sit on. The afternoon was cool and cloudy with the hint of rain still in the air, a lazy kind of day that calmed them all.

Millanie talked with Drew while Kare and Johnny explored around the house. He could hear the captain telling the professor how she'd already hired men to put in the plumbing and electricity so that as soon as she was able she could move in.

Kare took Johnny's hand as they walked out the back door, where a ramp had already been installed. He fought the urge to pull her close and hug her against him again. He wasn't a man who knew the right words to say. He'd thought great sex with Scarlet meant love. They'd both said they loved one another on their wedding night, and he never remembered either of them saying it again. There was always some disagreement. She was unhappy about something or complaining or in her time of the month. Looking back, he realized he'd spent most of his marriage avoiding Scarlet. No wonder she'd turned to Max.

“Walk with me, John.” Kare tugged him toward the shade of tall cottonwoods planted a hundred years ago.

“You seem all right.” He tried to match her steps. “I would have thought you'd be half out of your mind with panic.”

She shook her head, scarves and black curls flying. “I knew you'd come. I see it in your eyes, John. I feel it when
I touch you. You care about me. Our lives are linked. They have been from the moment you walked into my office and asked for a reading even though I knew you didn't believe in lifelines.”

“But you believed in me. You always did and I'm not leaving your side until this is over, Kare. I don't think my heart could stand not knowing you were safe again.” He knew the words weren't right, but they were all he could think of to say.

She winked. “I had a feeling that's what you'd say.”

Kare linked her arm with his and they walked toward the sun. He knew, even if he never kissed her or slept with her, he'd love her the rest of his life.

And he had a feeling Kare knew it too.

T
UESDAY

M
IDNIGHT

Beau leaned back in the wicker chair on Martha Q's porch and propped his boots on the railing. A song about losing love before he could get a hold on it drifted in his mind. Reason told him he should have gone back to Nashville today, but he'd stayed. Location didn't matter. Wherever he was, he'd be thinking about Lark and what he could have done or said different.

He decided he couldn't leave until he got his Gibson back, but he'd had all day to drive over to the bank a few blocks away and pull it out of the backseat of Lark's BMW. But he hadn't. He could have driven back to her parents' house earlier in the evening. She might be there. He could have picked it up and rushed away, saying he had a plane to catch. But he didn't. It was after midnight and he hadn't moved farther than the porch. He'd made a fool of himself last night. Hell, when he'd grabbed her in her office, things started going downhill and he had no way to stop the slide.

Finally, he came to one simple conclusion. She deserved better than him. He lived in the night's smoky air and she lived in sunshine. Those few nights talking in the hospital had been the only
normal
he'd ever had. Tomorrow he'd go back to Nashville and the world he knew. The world he understood. Only it would be a world without Lark.

He could buy another guitar. The Gibson wasn't worth seeing Lark crying again. He'd hurt her so bad. First by practically attacking her when he tried to show how much she meant to him and then by making a fool of himself five miles outside town. If her father saw her crying he was probably heading over to beat Beau to a pulp.

Beau didn't care. He wouldn't even fight back. He'd take the blows.

Lark said she needed time, but guessing from the way she looked last night when he saw her crying in the car, he had about twenty years to wait.

Closing his eyes, he let the music circle in his head. He'd written more here than he'd written in months. This place had always been magic to him. This was where he'd been the happiest, living with the Biggs brothers and eating off paper plates. This was where he'd also had his heart broken by a girl who said her name was Trouble. All the days in between visits to Harmony were in-between days. This was where he lived, and a part of him always would. No matter what happened in Nashville, when he fell asleep every night he'd go home to Harmony.

The sound of a car turning onto the brick road in front of the inn drew him out of his thoughts.

A powder-blue BMW pulled silently into the drive.

Beau didn't move. Part of him feared if he did, the dream he was having might end. He watched through half-closed eyes as Lark stepped out of the car. She pulled his Gibson, along with a bag, from her passenger seat and walked slowly toward the porch. With her hair tied back and wearing jeans, she almost looked sixteen again.

He knew the second she spotted him on the porch. She froze for a blink as if she might turn and run, and then she
straightened her shoulders and marched toward him like an executioner knowing he had to pull the switch.

He lowered his boots off the railing as she stepped on the porch. “Evening, Trouble,” he said in a low voice. Somehow the nickname fit her tonight.

She set the small leather bag down by the steps as she handed him his guitar. “I figured you'd be up, so I drove over.”

He stood slowly, not wanting to do anything to frighten her. He'd done enough of that lately. “You had enough time to think things over?”

“Yes,” she said, folding her arms, making it plain that he might not like what she was about to say.

Beau leaned back against the railing, folding his arms to keep from reaching for her. “I don't guess saying I'm sorry for last night would help. You haven't forgiven me for the first mistake I made. I was a fool for thinking I wanted to walk to town last night with a storm coming in. If Deputy Gentry hadn't picked me up I'd probably still be out there. I've made a mess of what we might have had.”

“I agree,” she said too fast.

He could barely see her face in the low glow of the parlor lamp shining through the window. She didn't look like she was about to cry, so he guessed that was an improvement, but he wasn't sure her agreeing with him was a positive thing.

“Thank you for sitting up with me at the hospital, and I enjoyed meeting your parents.” He knew he should stop while he was ahead, but he wanted to at least try to part as friends. “You mean a great deal to me, Lark, and I'd do anything if we could go back to being friends.” He saw her bringing the guitar as a start, but she might see it as an ending.

Lark reached down and lifted the leather bag. “Put your arm on the railing.”

“What?”

“Put your forearm on the railing. I want to have a little talk with you, but I don't want to worry about you grabbing me again.”

“All right.” He thought of swearing he wouldn't touch her, but maybe she needed proof. “I won't move from this spot.”

“I plan to make sure.” She pulled a few short leather straps from the bag and buckled his arm to the railing. “Now the other one,” she whispered.

She was so close he could smell her, that wonderful fresh fragrance he'd always loved. She would always remind him of summertime and midnight drives. If he could just pull her close, maybe one kiss could change her mind. He'd let her know how he felt.

No, that was what got him in trouble to start with.
He rested his other arm from elbow to hand on the railing and she strapped him to the wood.

“Now. You've got me just where you want me, Lark. I can't move so you can have your say. I guess my promise wasn't good enough.” Whatever she told him, no matter how much she yelled or screamed, he'd give her the chance to tell him off. She deserved it.

Lark stepped a few feet away and smiled. “My father said you're like a wild horse, Beau, that's never been broke. You don't know how to act or even know how to love a woman. He says some men like you never learn.”

Beau started to get a little worried about what else she might have in the bag. He'd heard of people who used whips and he wanted no part of that, but he didn't seem to have much choice in the matter right now. The way his luck was running she probably had a Taser gun. He twisted his hand, but his fingers couldn't reach the buckles holding his arms in place.

This was not a good idea and he'd stepped right into it.

Maybe he didn't know Lark at all. Maybe she was about to torture him. She thought she'd get back at every guy in the world who'd done a woman wrong. “Untie me,” he said calmly. “We'll talk. I won't come near you.”

“Not a chance.”

Her smile was sexy as hell but her eyes looked a bit wicked in the dim light.

He heard the front door open. Martha Q waddled out in her fluffy Halloween-orange robe and slippers. His heart slowed. Finally, the cavalry to the rescue. The old lady would put a stop to whatever Lark had planned.

“Oh,” Martha Q said. “Sorry, I thought there might be some of those crazy fans hanging around trying to peek in the windows. Evening, Lark.”

“Evening, Mrs. Patterson.” Lark, looking completely innocent, smiled at Martha Q. “I hope to see you at the bank Friday for the ladies' annual luncheon.”

“Of course. Wouldn't miss it.” Martha Q wiggled her eyebrows at Beau as she started backing into the house. “Good night.”

“Wait!” Beau yelled. “Can't you see I'm tied up? Help me out. Untie me, Martha Q. There's no telling what this woman is planning to do to me.”

Martha Q grinned so big her lips disappeared. “Been there, done that,” she chimed as she crossed back into the house. “Have fun, kids, and Beau, try not to wake the other guests with your screams.”

Beau swore. The whole world had gone crazy tonight. Correction, half the world. His buddy Border Biggs was right; women held all the cards and men didn't even know the rules to the game.

“Untie me,” he ordered. “This isn't funny, Trouble.”

“Or what?” She faced him, her hands on her hips.

“Or I'll have you arrested for kidnapping.”

She laughed. “I didn't kidnap you, Beau, you're on the front porch right where I found you. You let me strap your arms down. No one would believe I held you down and tied you up against your will.”

She had a point. Only an idiot would get in this mess. He tried to relax. “All right. I'm here. I'm listening. Say what you came to say. Let's get this over with.”

She walked the few feet to stand in front of him. “Women don't like to be handled, or shoved into corners, or even kissed when they're not ready. They like to be touched
gently.” She moved her fingers along his shoulder and lightly over his throat.

Beau didn't move. He didn't even breathe.

She leaned closer and began unbuttoning his shirt, touching his chest as she moved slowly down. Her touch was a velvet agony, warming his skin.

“Stop this, Trouble,” he said without anger. “What do you think you're doing, torturing me?” Her touch felt so good, but he hated not being able to return the feeling.

Her hand raked across his chest and he realized that was exactly what she was doing. Pure torment. She pulled his shirt open and kissed where his heart pounded. Her mouth moved over him, slowly kissing, tasting, even biting lightly. Again and again she almost kissed him, and then she'd pull away and start torturing again. She delved her fingers into his hair as she turned his head so she could trail kisses down his throat. Her body leaned into him. He'd never been so turned on. He'd never wanted a woman more. But not any woman, he wanted Lark.

Beau had no idea if he was in heaven or hell, but he wasn't leaving.

“Untie me,” he whispered. “I want to touch you, too.”

“No.” She laughed. “I'm not finished.” She tugged his shirttail, freeing it from his trousers so she could circle around and rake her fingernails lightly along his back. Just when he wanted to beg her to stop, she'd press against him until he could feel her soft breasts on his chest. Then all he could think of was begging her to continue.

“Loving is a dance, Beau.” She whispered the words so low against his ear he felt them more than heard them. “You have the music in your head. All you need to do is learn the steps.”

He was going mad with need, but her fingers kept brushing over him and her lips kept almost kissing him. His senses were overloading. The cool of the night and the warmth of her touch. The feel of her breath against his throat, the warmth of her hands sliding over his hot skin.
Her slim leg pushed between his and Beau's knees almost buckled.

He closed his eyes and rocked with her tender advance. “Tell me what you want, Trouble. Tell me why you're doing this.”

She moved her body against his.

“Tell me,” he whispered as he strained against the leather, wanting to press closer as she pulled a breath away.

“This is us, Beau. Me and you. We're not rushing what's between us. I won't let you. If we're going to be together, we're going to go slow. We're going to enjoy every step. This isn't one of your one-night romances. It never has been. I plan on driving you crazy for the rest of your life.”

“If you'll untie me, I'll take you all the way, right now.”

She pressed against his body, showing him how perfectly they'd fit together. “I know,” she whispered. “That's why I'm leaving you here just like this.” Her fingers ran down his chest to his belt buckle. “If you're interested in a real relationship, meet me at dawn at the diner. No public displays, Beau. No dark corners. No rush through passion.” She finally kissed his mouth. One mind-blowing kiss before she pulled away. “But, in private, we'll write our own rules. We'll race the night until we're too exhausted to move.”

One more long, hot, kiss. One last smile as she straightened.

“No,” he shouted as she rushed down the steps. “Don't leave me like this. Come back.”

She didn't turn around. She simply climbed into her car and drove away.

He thought about yelling until someone came. He thought about how good she'd felt against him. She'd driven him so insane he couldn't wait to try her plan.

About four in the morning he even decided that Lark's torture was better than full-out sex with any other woman.

For a while he concluded she hated him and had thought of the worst thing she could do to him short of killing him. Then he remembered she was feeding him breakfast. If she'd
been showing him the preview of their loving, he wasn't sure his heart could take the real thing.

About six the paperboy tossed a paper on the porch, acting like he didn't notice Beau sleeping standing up against the railing.

A half hour later Martha Q came out and untied him.

“Don't say a word,” he grumbled.

“I won't. I didn't see a thing. 'Course, if I had seen something it would have been a far more interesting scene than anything on late TV. Next time I'll leave the porch light on.”