Only His (20 page)

“There are worse fates.”

“I like it here. More than I thought I would. There's a sense of community. Mayor Marsha can be a little rabid.”

She grinned. “She's protective.”

“I'm glad she doesn't carry a gun.”

The feel of his fingers brushing hers ignited nerve endings all over her body. Later, she thought. While she was sure Tucker would agree if she suggested they move the party upstairs, she found herself wanting to wait. Not only for the sense of anticipation, but because this was nice. Spending time with Tucker—like a regular couple.

As soon as the ideas formed in her mind, she reminded herself there was danger in thinking like that. They worked together, which was its own complication, and he didn't believe in love. Not that they were at the love stage. Or even close to it.

Still, this was a good time to remind herself that getting involved would be stupid.

 

J
O LAY ON HER SIDE
, her body heavy with satisfaction, her mind quiet for once. Will stretched out beside her, facing her, his hand on her hip, his expression intense.

“I could get addicted to you,” she murmured.

“Good.”

Not good, she thought. Far from good. Falling for a man—she knew the danger. Still, now that she'd given in, she couldn't convince herself to back off. Being with him was easy. Right. Talk about scaring the crap out of her…

Jake, her cat, jumped onto the bed. Being a typical feline, he ignored her and walked over to Will to be petted.

“Damn cat,” Will muttered, scratching behind the cat's ears.

“You always say that, but you're very good to him.”

“He's okay. For a cat.”

She smiled. “You're a softie. So tough on the outside, but it's just an act.”

Instead of smiling, he kissed her.

“I love you.”

His words fell into the silence. They were unexpected and unwelcome.

Not love, she thought frantically, sitting up and pulling the sheet with her. Never love. They weren't supposed to get
that
involved.

His mouth twisted. “Judging by the panic in your eyes,” he said gruffly, “this isn't welcome news.”

She rolled off the bed and picked up her thong. After slipping it in place, she pulled on a T-shirt, then faced him.

“No. It's not.”

“At least you're honest.” He sat up, leaning against the headboard in her small bedroom. Pain darkened his eyes. “Want to tell me why?”

Annoyed that the scratching had ceased, Jake moved to the foot of the bed and began washing his face.

Will was a good man, Jo reminded herself. She'd always known that. He was kind and normal and he couldn't possibly understand. Telling him the truth meant losing him. Not telling him probably meant the same. She'd hurt his feelings, the one thing she hadn't wanted to do.

“You gonna spend the rest of your life hiding?” he asked. “What is it? Did somebody hurt you?”

She folded her arms across her chest. “It's not going to work. If I tell you, everything will change.”

“No, it won't. I'm not that guy.”

A claim he'd made before. But he was wrong. Everyone was that guy, she thought.

“Just tell me,” he insisted. “I can't fix it if I don't know what it is.”

“There's no fixing. It's my past and it can't be undone. It simply is.”

He stared at her. “There's nothing you can say to make me turn away. I love you. That's not going to change.”

He meant it. She could see it, and she almost believed him. But that would make things too easy, she thought sadly. She wasn't that lucky.

She stood there a long time before accepting the fact that she didn't have a lot of options. If she didn't tell him now, he would bring it up later. Either she gave in or they were done. She tried to tell herself that not wanting to lose him didn't mean she was weak, but she knew that she would be lying to herself. Somehow, when she wasn't paying attention, this man had become important to her.

A narrow straight-back chair stood in the corner of her room. She pulled it up closer to the bed and sat down. The past that she had done her best to put behind her flared up now, surrounding her.

“My parents died when I was pretty young,” she began, studying her short nails rather than looking at him. “I was in foster care for a few years, different places. It wasn't great, but nothing too awful happened. I wasn't abused or anything. But I never belonged, if that makes sense.”

She looked up and found him watching her intently. Her stomach tightened. Nothing about this was going
to end well, she thought sadly. But it was too late now to come up with a lie.

“When I was about fifteen I was sent to live with a woman who was new to the foster care system. She was older—at the time I thought she was ancient. Now she seems less elderly.” She managed a smile. “I think she was in her late fifties. Sandy. She was nice. Really nice. Sweet. She cared, which no one had for a long time. Then I met Ronnie. He was a year older than me in school, a bad boy. Sexy as hell, with tattoos and a motorcycle. I couldn't resist him. The day he kissed me, I knew I could die happy.”

She looked at the blanket, at the floor. Anywhere that was safe.

“Being with Ronnie was exciting. Dangerous. One day we stole a couple of bottles from a liquor store. It was too easy. We got drunk. Sandy never knew, never guessed. Ronnie was so polite to her. She adored him and was happy for me. I felt bad, deceiving her, but that didn't stop me.”

“I know that type of guy,” Will said.

“Then you won't be surprised to know things escalated. We robbed a corner grocery a couple of towns over. Then held up a dry cleaner. They barely tried to stop us and the police had no clue who we were. Being bad like that was exciting and fun and something we shared. By day we were students and at night, we were Bonnie and Clyde.”

She looked at him then and shrugged. “I'd only heard part of that story. I didn't know how it ended.”

She drew in a breath. “We decided our graduation present to each other would be to rob a bank. Sandy was
having me fill out college applications and said she'd put away a little money to help me pay for it. I couldn't believe it. I should have listened, I should have accepted the gift, but I wanted to be with Ronnie more.”

“You robbed a bank?” Will sounded shocked.

“We tried. We did a decent job planning and would have gotten away, except the bank manager decided to stand up to us. Ronnie had a gun and…”

Now came the hard part, she thought. The part that haunted her. She could still remember the terror in the bank manager's eyes. The way he kept looking at the pictures on his desk. He had a wife and three kids. To this day, she could recognize those kids anywhere.

“We were so young and so stupid,” she continued softly. “Ronnie was screaming at him to hand over the money and I—” Her throat tightened. “I went along with it, saying Ronnie would shoot him if he didn't listen. I was so scared, but determined.”

She sucked in a breath. “The police broke in and one of the customers in the bank screamed he was going to shoot and someone fired, then they all fired.”

She hadn't known a gun could be so loud. The sound had filled the small bank, echoing until it had seemed to explode in her head. The subsequent gunshots had seemed to go on forever.

She'd stood there, waiting to be killed—ignorant enough to think dying together would be romantic.

She dropped her gaze to her hands again. “There was so much blood,” she whispered. “I didn't know how much there could be.” She didn't have to close her eyes to see him lying there on the bank floor. She remembered that someone was screaming and the sound
hurt her ears. It had taken so long to realize that person was her.

“They arrested me. My lawyer tried to get me to say it was Ronnie. After all, he was dead and couldn't say I was lying. But I wouldn't do it. I told them everything and then I pled guilty. I didn't want to have to face those people again at trial. I was sentenced and that was it.”

She shifted on the chair, fighting tears. “Sandy came to see me. She was heartbroken. She kept saying it was her fault and I had to tell her it wasn't and I was so afraid she would abandon me, but she didn't. Not even when they sent me away.”

Finally she looked at him. His face was carefully blank, his eyes expressionless. Better than jumping to his feet and calling her a murderer, she supposed, but not by much.

“They sentenced me to twelve years. I served nine. I was twenty-seven when I got out. That was nearly ten years ago. Sandy was sick and I stayed with her for the next couple of years, taking care of her until she died. She left me everything. I sold her little house and took the money and somehow found Fool's Gold. I bought this place.”

She folded her arms over her chest again. “If I could take it back, I would. If I could give up my life so Ronnie didn't have to die like that… Such a waste for both of us. We were kids, but we still should have known better. I know I was lucky. The bank manager was shot but recovered and I had Sandy looking out for me. She never gave up on me. I don't know why. Anyone else would have walked away.”

She paused, hoping he would say something. He didn't. Feeling uncomfortable, she added, “I learned my lesson. Obviously. Everything is different now, but I still carry that with me.”

“I can see why.” He rolled off the opposite side of the bed and started dressing.

She stood, careful to put the chair between them. Instinctively she knew she was going to need protection.

He pulled on jeans, then dragged on his sweatshirt. Finally he looked at her and swore. “I thought you'd been with some guy who beat you. I thought you were a Mafia princess or some crap like that.”

She didn't flinch. Didn't let him know how his words cut through her.

“You don't have some noble past,” he growled. “You're a criminal. An innocent man could have died because of you. A guilty man did die. That's not anything I want to be a part of.”

He stepped into his boots, grabbed his jacket and was gone. Seconds later, she heard the front door slam and the uneven sound of his footsteps on the stairs.

She began to shiver. Not that the room was chilly. Instead the cold came from inside. It swept through her until she trembled so much she could barely stand.

She'd known what would happen if she ever told the truth. Known how it would end. She knew she shouldn't be surprised.

Tears filled her eyes. As she brushed them away she wondered if she would ever get to leave her past behind. Not that she wanted to forget. She would pay for
what she'd done for the rest of her life and she deserved that. But somewhere along the line she'd changed, and she'd hoped that her future might change, too.

T
HE CONSTRUCTION SITE
was pure chaos. Tucker stood beside the trailer and stared at what had once been a relatively quiet, orderly work area. Now there were police, state troopers, private security and tourists everywhere. The cleared area by the mountain had become a makeshift parking lot that overflowed with cars and trucks. Heidi Simpson had set up a stand selling her goat cheese, along with water, soda and sandwiches. He understood the need for everyone to make a profit, but wished they would all go away and leave him alone.

He felt his phone buzz in his shirt pocket and pulled it out.

“Janack,” he said.

“You've made it to CNN,” his father said. “I can't decide if I'm proud or horrified.”

“Let me know when you decide,” Tucker told him. “I know where I stand.”

He went into the trailer so he could hear more easily, and shut the door behind him.

His father chuckled. “I can hear it in your voice, son. Bad?”

Tucker slumped into his chair. “I keep telling myself it could be worse. At least the find is at the far end of the site, just past our property line. We're not legally involved. As soon as the gold is taken away, things will
quiet down. In the meantime, we're moving our equipment and men as far away as possible.”

“Sounds like you have it under control.”

“Nevada does. She volunteered to coordinate with the town on this.”

“Always good having a local around.”

“It is,” he said absently, thinking Nevada's value went past simply being local.

He and his father talked about the job itself, and how long Tucker expected to stay ahead of schedule.

“Need me to fly in?” his father asked.

“I've got it covered.”

“I know that, son. Keep me in the loop. Talk to you soon.”

They hung up.

Tucker eyed the door, not wanting to go back outside, but knowing he had to. He'd barely walked down the steps when Nevada appeared at his side.

“Okay,” she said, her eyes bright with amusement. “The archaeological team is on its way. Jerry radioed that their bus was coming up the road.”

She motioned for Tucker to follow her to the lunch table where the guys ate. She pulled two pieces of paper out of her back pocket and spread them out.

“It will take us half a day to clear a temporary road through here.” She pointed to the sketch she'd made. “I think it's worth it. We can move the equipment we need more quickly that way, and get right to work.”

“What about that mess?” he asked, pointing behind them.

She glanced over her shoulder. “I'll have this under control by tomorrow.”

“Impossible.”

She laughed. “Trust me, Tucker. I grew up as one of six kids. This is nothing. I'm used to bedlam and anarchy. It would go faster if my mom were here, but I can do it by myself.”

She continued to outline her plan, which was impressive. His father was right—having a local around helped. Tucker knew he was lucky to have her. And not just on the job site. She was an unexpected pleasure of being in Fool's Gold.

While he didn't believe in his father's choice of having women all over the world, Tucker hadn't lived the last ten years as a monk. There had been plenty of short-term, casual relationships. They'd been as easy to start as they had been to end. Almost from the beginning, he'd known they wouldn't work out, for an assortment of reasons.

With Nevada it was different. She understood his work and she understood him. They could talk about anything and spend long periods of time together. He trusted her, which wasn't something he often found.

“So?” she asked. “Do I have your approval?”

“And my gratitude.”

“You can give me a small but tasteful present later.”

Her impish smile made him want to pull her against him and give her that present now. But this wasn't the time or place.

Yet another car drove up, but this one made him groan. He recognized the lettering on the side.

“Police Chief Alice Barns,” he muttered. “She brought the summons last time she was here. Do you
think the city council is demanding our presence again?”

Before Nevada could answer, the police chief walked up. Tucker eyed her but didn't see any paperwork. That was something.

“Morning,” Chief Barns said. “I'm letting you know that the extra security will be here for as long as it takes.” She smiled. “I'm sure that makes you happy.”

“My heart is beating faster as we speak,” Tucker muttered. “Do we have an estimated time of completion?”

The police chief jerked her thumb toward the parking lot, where a battered van had pulled in.

“You can ask them. I have a list of their names. Want a copy?”

“No.” He planned to be at the other end of the site until all this blew over. The idea of a hundred acres between him and them made him a happy guy.

“I'll take it,” Nevada said. “I'll want to check their IDs, too, to make sure we don't have any treasure hunters muscling in. This find is part of Fool's Gold's history. No one is going to steal it on my watch.”

“That's my girl,” the police chief said approvingly.

Tucker watched as a half dozen or so khaki-wearing archaeologist types got out of the van. Most had on backpacks and carried tools and water bottles. One of the women walked toward him. She was tall, with dark hair and bangs.

Her gaze settled on him. “Tucker Janack?” she asked. “I'm Piper Tate.”

They shook hands.

“I've worked with contractors before,” she said. “I
know you want us off-site as quickly as possible. We want that, too. Our priority is the find and keeping it safe. We'll set up a round-the-clock team. Artifacts will go more quickly than human remains. Be grateful you didn't unearth a skeleton.”

“Lucky me.”

She gave a few more specifics. He noticed the police chief ducking out when the conversation got technical and wanted to go with her. Instead he nodded through a discussion of removing and cataloging artifacts and the rigorous designs of the boxes they would be using to transport everything.

When Piper finally excused herself to go join the others, Tucker saw that Nevada was laughing.

“What?”

“You've got to learn to fake it better,” she told him. “You were obviously bored.”

“It was a boring topic. I'm here to build something, not deal with old statues.”

“I know someone who needs a little time on a backhoe.”

That did sound good, he thought. “I'm still stuck on what would have happened if we'd found a body.”

“Go.” She pushed him toward his truck. “I'll deal with this.”

“Okay. Check in with me every couple of hours.”

“I will.”

He pulled his keys out of his pocket and had nearly made it to his truck when a familiar dark sedan pulled up next to the police chief's car.

“Sorry,” Nevada whispered as Mayor Marsha got out.

Tucker hung his head. This was not his day.

He waited for the inevitable scolding as the mayor approached. A woman he didn't know exited the passenger side of the car.

“Annabelle,” Nevada said, sounding surprised. “What are you doing here?”

Annabelle was petite, with red hair. She looked uncomfortable as she glanced around.

“I have a minor in tribal studies,” she said with a sigh. “I specialized in the Máa-zib tribe. Somehow Mayor Marsha found out.”

The old woman knew everything, Tucker thought. She must have some kind of network in town.

“I want Annabelle to keep an eye on the archaeology team,” the mayor said briskly. “My office is fielding dozens of calls from museums all over the country and a few from Central America. Everyone wants to know about the find and some are even trying to put in a claim.” She smoothed the front of her suit. “Of course the Máa-zib lived here, so we'll have a say in what happens to the artifacts. The Smithsonian called. I tried to interest them in Ms. Stoicasescu's giant vagina, but they passed.”

“I would have liked to have heard that conversation,” Tucker said in a low voice.

Nevada elbowed him in the ribs.

Mayor Marsha narrowed her gaze. “What are you doing today, Mr. Janack?” she asked.

“Getting on with building. Nevada is coordinating with everyone up there.” He pointed to the crowd swarming the side of the mountain.

The mayor shook her head. “I'm getting too old for this,” she murmured. “Maybe it's time to retire.”

“Don't even think about it,” Nevada told her. “Come on. We'll go see if you can taste some goat cheese.”

The three women walked toward Heidi's stand on the edge of the parking lot. Tucker edged toward his truck. As he reached it, Nevada glanced back at him and grinned.

He climbed inside, thinking that it was nice for someone to have his back. Later, he would be sure to return the favor.

 

T
UCKER FINISHED HIS WORKDAY
hot, sweaty and in a much better mood than he'd started. He didn't even care about all the cars, the archaeologists picking over the site or the gaggle of security guards rushing around everywhere. He was going back to the hotel, where he would shower, then head over to Nevada's place and spend the evening with her.

He stepped into the trailer to check his email, only to find Will looking for him. He hadn't seen the man all day and, staring at him, he knew why. Will looked haggard. His skin was pale, his eyes bloodshot. He obviously hadn't slept. Slumped shoulders emphasized that whatever it was, it was bad.

“What happened?” Tucker demanded. “Who died?”

“No one.” Will looked at him. “I want to transfer to another job. I don't care where. I need to get out of here.”

There was only one reason for a man to look like that and want to leave town, Tucker thought grimly. And that reason was a woman.

“Jo?”

Will nodded.

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.” Will sighed. “You were right. Love makes us all fools. I believed in her.”

Tucker didn't know what to say to that. On the one hand, Will had been happy with Jo. On the other, the bad ending was inevitable.

“Okay. Let me see what I can do.”

“Thanks.” Will started toward the door, then turned back to him. “I thought she was the one. I was wrong. Love is for suckers.”

 

T
HE DAY HAD BEEN A GOOD ONE
, Nevada thought happily as she stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. While she would have preferred to spend her time actually building something, keeping the job moving forward while dealing with a whole new level of crazy had been interesting, too. Plus, she'd spent a little time with Heidi and now understood more about goat cheese than anyone else she knew.

She put on body lotion, then dressed. She'd just reached for her blow dryer when her phone rang.

“Hello?”

“It's me,” Montana said with a sigh. “We have boyfriend trouble.”

There was a tradition in town. When one of the women got hurt by a man, her friends rallied. Liquor and plenty of sugar got the dumpee in question through the first painful night.

“I'll be there. Who is it?”

“Jo.”

Not a name Nevada had ever expected to hear. “What? No. She's dating Will. He's a great guy.”

“Not anymore. I don't know any details. Just that Charity found Jo crying in her bar.”

“That's horrible. I don't understand.” Will adored Jo. He'd chased her until he'd caught her. They were so happy together. “Give me twenty minutes.”

“Okay. I have a few more calls to make.”

Nevada hung up and quickly dried her hair. She got her keys and a jacket, then headed outside. She'd just stepped onto the house's front porch when she ran into Tucker.

“Hey, I was on my way to see you,” he said. “Want to get dinner?”

“I can't.” She looked at him. “What happened with Will and Jo?”

Tucker shoved his hands into his front pockets. “I don't know. He said it was over and he wants to transfer to another job.”

She felt her mouth drop open. “No. He's leaving? What happened?”

“I didn't ask.”

Typical man. “Did you have anything to do with this?”

“What? No. How could it be about me?”

She wasn't sure. “You're always saying relationships are bad and that being in love makes a man an idiot. Is that why Jo and Will broke up?”

His gaze narrowed. “No. Will figured it out on his own. Something he found out about Jo. Why don't you put the blame where it belongs?”

“I am. On him.”

“Sure. When in doubt, blame the guy.”

“If you don't know what happened, how do you know it wasn't him?” She paused, but Tucker didn't speak. “I have to go and help a friend,” she told him.

“Fine,” he grumbled.

“Fine,” she snapped back.

They glared at each other, then Tucker turned and left. Nevada slammed the door, but the act wasn't very satisfying, probably because of the ache in her gut. The one that told her Will and Jo's breaking up had reinforced every stupid idea Tucker had about love.

 

W
ITHIN AN HOUR
, Jo's house was overflowing with friends, food and margaritas. Charlie and Montana had each arrived with two bags of ice, and the blender had been going nonstop ever since. Charity and Pia coordinated the arriving trays, plates and bowls of food, sorting them by type. From what Nevada could tell, there was enough ice cream to feed a football team. There were cookies, a pie, two cakes, bags of M&M's and frosted brownies.

For those who preferred the salty side of things, bowls of potato chips and tortilla chips sat next to nuts and dip. The closest they came to healthy was a token container of baby carrots.

Nevada carried a pitcher of margaritas into the crowded living room. Jo sat on the sofa, Annabelle on one side of her and Liz on the other. Dakota rocked a sleepy Hannah. Finn was away on an overnight flight.