Sleepless in Montana (5 page)

Her expression stilled into solemn regard.
“You had an easy way of explaining everything. You kept that family
together, and probably Ben, too, after they broke up, and it took a
big chunk out of you.”

“Are you done yet?” Hogan disliked the harsh
tone of his voice and disliked her picking through his life.

“No way. I’ve been in this war for years,
Hogan. I saw how you deflected Ben when he wanted too much from
Aaron and Carley— I saw how you put softer ideas into him, like
buying Carley a locket that time. And he listened. He respected
your input. You could have taken off long before you did, but you
kept all the Kodiaks together. I know you got up in the night with
Carley more than I did. That you talked that soft, easy way to her
until dawn, and then you went out to work on the ranch. I know you
jerked Aaron out of trouble that could have sent him back to
Seattle, and I know what you’ve done for Mitch. You stood up for
Dinah when Aaron said everything was her fault— that the family
came apart because of her leaving Ben. Their stories about you say
that you’ve paid a big price.”

“That’s over.” Hogan wanted her to stop
dragging out the painful memories—

“No, it’s not. It’s buried inside you,
festering. You were an adult before your time, almost a parent to
the others. Maybe that’s why you don’t know how to laugh or
play.”

Jemma took a deep breath and fired again. “I
know what you’ve done, coming back here, remodeling this place and
putting yourself right in front of Ben— you’re out to take Ben to
task for everything you’ve held against him. You are absolutely,
truly, one-hundred percent certified perverse. You think it’s time
and—”

“Take it easy,” Hogan warned, uncertain if
his leashes would hold when Jemma pushed too close to his raw,
exposed edges. None of them knew how deeply he’d needed to know
about his mother, needed to know who he was; he hadn’t let them
inside to see that gaping pain and uncertainty.

“Don’t think I didn’t understand how you
felt, a dark-skinned, black-eyed member of the family— Hogan, you
positively wallowed in that status, looking down at the rest from
your lofty perch.... I know how that feels, not being a part of a
family. I wanted something in my life, too, and it just wasn’t
there. Did I step into a big dark hole and pull it around me? No.
But you did. You’ll tear them apart and yourself. Right now, you’re
like some big, dark thunderstorm that can erupt at any minute.”

She paused, then continued slowly as if
making a solemn promise. “But I may lay off you. I just may, if it
will help Carley. I know that you will do everything in your power
to protect her. I want your promise that you will not upset Dinah
or Carley by arguing with Ben.”

“I haven’t seen him in years. I can’t promise
anything—”

Hogan looked down to Jemma’s fist crushing
the silk covering his chest. She’d ripped into him, sparing
nothing.

“I can laugh,” he said, his pride jarred by
her statement a moment ago.

“Really? I’ve never heard you, in all these
years. I’ve never seen you really smile— You may not have seen Ben,
but you’ve been tracking him. I’ve seen your expression when Carley
or the rest say something about him. You’re storing every word,
adding and subtracting. I know that look— I invented it and know
what it means. You know his property value and how many cows he
has—”

“Cattle,” Hogan corrected automatically and a
bit sharply, with the impatience of a man bred to the West, dealing
with city mentality.

“Fine, schmine. Cattle, then. You know what
he’s got in the bank. I’m into computer tracking myself, and I
found your marks all over anything concerning Ben Kodiak. We both
know you could buy him out easily.”

Jemma pushed her face close to his, her eyes
narrowed. “Now get this, Kodiak. I intend for this gig— everyone
here, in Montana, at the same time— to work. I do not want anything
to go wrong, to allow any arguments to leave Carley unprotected for
one minute.
One minute,
Hogan. Got it?”

He stared down at her, giving her nothing.
She leaned forward, eyes smoking, fists tight, and started hacking
at him again. “Do you know how much work it is to get a
mule-headed, slow-minded, dipped in bad memories and dysfunctional
family like the Kodiaks all together in the same place? I’ve done
it, and you’re not going to dig the scars deeper, Hogan Kodiak.
I’ve worked too hard and I’m not getting any younger. Neither are
you.”

For a moment, Hogan stared at Jemma, her eyes
flashing like lightning ripping across steel swords. She wasn’t
afraid to step into the past, or the future, and she wasn’t backing
off.

“Take your hand off me, Jemma,” Hogan said
too quietly, and knew that in another minute— He looked down to
where her pale hand had slipped inside his shirt and rested against
his bare chest. The contrast of male and female, light and dark,
startled and excited him. Textures, colors, and forms, trapped in
movement, had always been his downfall, his fascination, and Jemma
was a mixture of all of them.

Stunned that his thoughts could run to
Jemma-the-woman, he brushed away her hand and smoothed his wrinkled
shirt, just as he would have liked to smooth away her interference
in his life.

Jemma planted her body in front of him, her
expression fierce. “Do you promise that you will try to get along
with Ben?” she asked too carefully.

After warring with his need to end his
passage, his quest for peace, Hogan nodded. “For Carley,” he said
carefully.

“Yes, for Carley.” Her expression was worried
now, looking up at him. “Do you think it’s a good plan, Hogan? Do
you? She wouldn’t have left her job for any other reason than her
family’s welfare. Do you think you and your brothers can protect
her?”

At her first uncertainty, her concern for his
sister, Hogan weakened. The dark circles beneath Jemma’s eyes said
she’d missed sleep. He couldn’t resent Jemma when she loved Carley
and would protect her with her life. “You shouldn’t feel guilty
about this, Jemma.”

She ran her trembling hands over her face. “I
shouldn’t have had her out there that night. It was my idea.... I
love her as much as you do.”

“She’ll be protected here,” Hogan said,
meaning it.

“I know. It’s as if the Kodiak men were bred
to protect her, as if destiny made you all so hard and tough for
just this moment. You’ll catch him, won’t you, Hogan?”

For the first time, Jemma looked weak and
tired, her usual vibrancy darkened by worry. She looked helpless
and delicate and wounded, and even as he reached for her, Hogan
knew she would make his life unbearable.

“Yes, like that,” Jemma whispered against his
shoulder as his arms enclosed her. “I’m so scared, Hogan. You
always know the right things to say. When things are coming apart,
you’ve always been rock-solid. Say them now.”

“Carley will be safe. We’ll get him.” Against
her vibrant warm hair, Hogan murmured what she needed to hear,
though fear ran through him like an icy stake.

He held his breath, shocked that he was
actually holding Jemma. She nestled against him, slender and
feminine within his arms.

Hogan resented the need to hold her closer,
to protect her. He’d known her since she was eight, scrambling up
the roof with Carley to toss balloons filled with water at the
Kodiaks. He shouldn’t have thought of her as a woman, but as his
sister’s friend.

He frowned because, experienced in life,
Hogan knew that Jemma had just aroused his sensual, prowling side.
He didn’t like the idea, or the woman who huddled in his arms. He
held his body taut, away from hers. “You should have told me
sooner, Jemma.”

“I know. You always know how to make things
right, but I thought the detectives could catch him—they couldn’t.
I thought I could manage and not let it come to this, and Carley
still doesn’t want Dinah or Ben to know about that night. She’s too
afraid of hurting them—she’s just too afraid of anything. It’s bad
enough for them to think she has a stalker now.”

Hogan held her a distance away. “You said
there were detectives. I’ll want their report files. Do you want to
stay here tonight?”

She shook her head, and a ripple of dark red
hair caught the firelight, yellow citrine glistening in the
highlights. “This visit is a secret between you and me. I don’t
want the others to know that I want you to try with Ben. I had to
see your face, to see your reaction. I didn’t want to hear that
cold dispatch tone on the phone.... Do it for Carley’s sake, Hogan.
You will, won’t you? For Carley? And for Dinah?”

Hogan raked her hair back from her upturned
face, fisting all that rich, warm, silky color. “I’d die for Carley
and you know it.”

Her smile was all slow, knowing, feminine
pleasure. “I know. But I had to be certain that you wouldn’t ruin
it by fighting with Ben.”

Hogan searched her pleading gray eyes and
tried to isolate what fascinated him, that Jemma could reach into
him and squeeze his emotions. “You’re asking a lot.”

“You’ll give a lot... for Carley and Dinah,
won’t you?” she asked again. She was pressing hard, uncertain of
Hogan’s bitterness against Ben.

“I would. Let me get this straight. Ben is
sick, but not really. This is the reason we’re all going to make
like a family, right?”

“For a start... I’ll work on the details. Now
hold me just a bit more before I have to leave. I never break down,
but—”

When Jemma began to shake and tears filled
her eyes, Hogan tugged her into his arms and held her tight, his
hand cradling the back of her head.

“I knew I could count on you,” she murmured
against his chest. “I always could. I couldn’t bear it... if
anything happened to Carley. She’s been through enough.”

Hogan closed his eyes and Carley’s scream
ripped through him again, the way she looked, clothes torn, trying
to cover her body with her hands, the red marks on her face, arms
and legs. When they’d turned into big bruises, imprints of a man’s
fingers and fists, they sickened him almost as much as the terror
in her eyes.

It had never gone away—the terror of that
night. Carley had never laughed or smiled as she had before the
attack.

The scene flashed through him once more and
then died as Jemma’s arms gripped his body tighter, her breasts
soft against him.

He stood, holding Jemma, his face lifted away
from that rich color of her hair, the warmth in it. Maybe the words
were in him, maybe they’d been stripped away, but he couldn’t tell
her how much he ached for his sister, too.

Who was that bastard, that son of a bitch
who had jumped Carley, stripped and hurt her? That sick, son of a
bitch, had waited and was playing a game that had to be
stopped.

Carley’s shattered face, her bruised body,
flashed in his mind again. Hogan fought his anger, the urge to wrap
his hands around the man’s throat and squeeze slowly— after beating
him to a pulp.

He didn’t like anger, didn’t like the grip it
could take on him, but in his nightmares, Carley’s scream tore into
the night and her savaged face and body haunted him.

Now that bastard was back, wanting more of
Carley, toying with her.

And no one had told him before Jemma...
Carley hadn’t trusted him. Why? Why wouldn’t she?

And that hurt...

After a time, Jemma stopped shaking, and
Hogan eased her away, disliking the unsteady emotions she could
arouse in him. He’d wanted to hold Jemma closer, to stroke that
long curved back and fill his hands with her bottom— “You’d better
be going.”

She smiled brightly, pushing her hand through
the fabulous red mane he longed to hold like living fire in his
hands. “Sure. Thanks. Don’t forget Mitch and Aaron will be here
next week. Dinah, Carley, and me the week after. See you in two
weeks. Bye.”

At the doorway, Jemma turned to him, her
expression urgent, the taunting wiped away by fear for Carley.
“Help me make this work, Hogan. Do not start with Ben. Let’s get
through this. Find that bastard and make him pay.”

“He’ll pay.” Hogan forced his body to relax,
muscle by muscle, pushing the rage from him.
Or was his body
tight, because he’d just held Jemma, responding to all that color
and warmth, those smooth planes and softness?

He pushed away that thought.
Not
Jemma.

Jemma’s eyes locked with his, fierce gray
warrior’s eyes in the face of a woman.

As her headlights ripped through the night,
Hogan settled down into his thoughts, prowling through them. He
couldn’t ignore his body’s need for Jemma, even as his mind told
him that she was dangerous to him, to what he wanted.

After a moment, he turned and hurled his
wineglass into the fireplace. “I’ll do what I have to do. I will
find that bastard. Nothing is going to happen to Carley “

He looked up to the firelight dancing between
the rotating shadows of the ceiling fan’s blades. Hogan breathed
deeply, inhaling the fragrance Jemma had left behind— and the
excitement.
He didn’t like how his senses responded to her body,
not at all.

With a groan, he picked up the ringing
telephone. Jemma’s voice came across her car phone, clipped,
professional, irritated, impatient— “This place needs more cell
towers. Don’t feel too bad about burning out, Hogan. You’ve got
enough work out there, and we can mass produce the designs, use
cheaper grades of stones and market discount—”

He hung up and stripped off his silks,
jerking on worn jeans. He needed a good mean horse and a long
midnight ride to get that woman out of his mind. Her taunts jabbed
at him, and Hogan stalked out of the house, nettled that Jemma had
once more gotten to him.

One minute she was pure Jemma— hard,
slashing, and fast-moving and the next she’d moved into his arms
with the natural ease of a lover. Hogan eyed his bronze eagle. “I
do
know how to laugh
.
”