The Fifth Season (8 page)

Laying quietly, he ignored the tear that slipped from the corner of his eye.

Chapter Five

Stone entered the kitchen, inhaling the sweet scent of coffee. He sauntered over to the array of silver dispensers, snatched a mug off the counter and filled it with the piping hot brew. Emma pulled a tray from the oven. Steam rose from the top of what appeared to be blueberry muffins. With a frown, he studied the edge of her cheekbone. Over the past days, the mark he’d left on her face went from an innocent light red to an ugly patch of muted yellows and greens. His stomach rolled at the reminder of his weakness.

“I’m heading into town this morning. Do you need anything?” He cleared his voice of the rough edge and offered what he hoped was a warm smile. “I’m happy to go wherever.”

Emma glanced up from her scrutiny of the muffins. “I’m good. Just testing a new recipe – let me know if you taste the hint of cinnamon in these.” She removed a muffin from the tray, placed it on a small plate and handed it to Stone.

Stone glanced at the plate, then put it on the counter and grabbed the muffin. He bit into the center and closed his eyes in sheer pleasure. “This is good.” He polished the rest off in two bites and grinned at Emma. “Don’t know a thing about the cinnamon but that was a little slice of heaven.”

Emma rolled her eyes and smiled. The only thing marring the beauty in the frame of his gaze was that horrible bruise. Stone’s smile slipped, and he nodded at her. “Call my cell if you think of anything you’ll need. I shouldn’t be gone more than a few hours.” He hated the warmth that drained from her face the second his tone turned gruff, but he didn’t know how to handle what she offered. Distance was better, for now.

***

Stone pulled his Jeep onto the gravel drive of River’s Edge Ranch. He sighed as waves of his childhood crashed across the green fields and licked through cattle fences. The warmth of childhood memories blanketed his unease and anxiety and by the time he reached the main house, the thought of seeing his cousin filled him with an edge of happy. Stone shook his head, exited the Jeep and strode onto the wide front porch. He knocked on the door, turning and surveying the ranch while he waited for an answer.

“Stone?” A deep voice boomed as the front door opened. “I couldn’t believe it when Alexa said you were stopping by. It’s great to see you, man.”

Stone turned and faced his cousin. They were about the same height, but where Stone was dark, Ethan was light. Except the eyes. Ethan’s were somewhere between honey and mud, and Stone had the Connor blues. “Ethan, long time no see.”

Ethan pulled him into a gruff bear hug. “Hate the story I’ve been hearin’.”

“I know, man.” Stone slapped him on the shoulder. “It’s been a rough year.”

“Care to share,” Ethan grinned and sauntered onto the front porch. They headed down the stairs in tandem step and did what they’d always done as children, walked to the barn.

Stone shook his head. “Not particularly. But I would like your help.”

“Emma’s story?”

They reached the horse stalls, and Ethan tossed him a shovel. Stone grabbed it and flung open the gate to the first bay, his movements honed over years of growing up around River’s Edge. “Yeah, how’d you guess?”

“Margaret. She was worried about her decision and asked that when the time was right I help you understand.”

Stone huffed out a frustrated breath. “Understand? Hell, she’s pretty much confined me to jail.”

“Help me finish the stalls, we’ll grab some brewskies and kick back in the rocking chairs. I’ll spill my guts.” Ethan pounded his fist against the wooden railings. “Deal?”

“Deal.” Stone tucked into his chores and allowed the physical workout to heat his muscles and sooth the anger lying beneath his skin. It felt good. To be here, with a person he trusted with his life, and not hear the hollow laugh of Death.

“I guess we’re done,” Ethan called from other end of the barn.

Stone glanced up, rested the shovel and pitch fork he’d been using to muck the stalls and add fresh hay against the wall and surveyed the length of building. “I’d say it looks that way. Beer?”

“You betcha,” Ethan laughed.

They headed back to the porch. Stone fell into one of the aged rockers and kicked his boots off. Ethan returned from the house a few minutes later with a bucket laden with ice and half a dozen bottles of a brand Stone recognized as one of the local microbreweries. “This stuff any good?”

“Yeah. Who’d figured T. J. would actually be good at anything?”

Stone laughed. “Well, his Pa did like making moonshine.”

“True that,” Ethan said and grinned. “What can I tell you that you haven’t already figured out about Emma?”

“She clearly has issues and an unhealthy obsession with River Run.” Stone popped the cap off his bottle, took a healthy swig and grinned at Ethan. “Good.”

“Are you telling me that covert ops Ranger extraordinaire Stone Connor hasn’t accessed confidential databases to unearth the identity and background of Emma O’Malley?” Ethan appeared honestly perplexed.

“Why would I have done that?”

Ethan barked out a hearty laugh. “Boy, she’s blinded you with those wicked green eyes and Irish red hair.”

Stone frowned not finding any of this funny. “I realize 2 and 2 are not adding up to 4 – but why would I ever think to do a background check on her. Is she a criminal?” That thought didn’t sit well, deepening the edge of his frown.

Ethan handed Stone another beer. “No. She’s not. She’s actually not a real person.”

“I’m listening.” Stone stated, his tone flat in contrast to Ethan’s slightly amused lilt.

“Don’t get pissed off until I explain. Apparently your…um, Nate owed Emma’s father a personal debt and agreed to smuggle her out of Ireland and keep her safe here in Jackson. She’s using a false name and has no formal identity in the States. Margaret donated quite a healthy sum to the local schools to keep that fact quiet. So, in a nutshell, she’s kind of in our very own homegrown Connor family witness protection program.” Ethan glanced at Stone and nodded. “It’s the truth.”

“You don’t say,” Stone drawled. His mind worried through Ethan’s words and came up with an amount of questions that gave him a headache. “Who is she?”

“Emilie Gallagher, daughter of an ex-Irish political leader named Hugh Gallagher. Her mother was murdered in front of her fifteen years ago. Her father disappeared, presumed dead. The man Emma claims murdered her mother is none other than Seamus Adams.”

At that, Ethan had Stone’s undivided attention. “The dude running for Prime Minister?”

“One and only.”

Stone picked at the label on his beer. “I saw him on the news last night. He’s here in town.”

“Looking for property, they say.” Ethan tilted his head and shrugged.

“You think he knows about Emma?”

“I think if I’m vying for the most powerful seat in my homeland, I’d be damned certain there was nothing between me and that election.”

“This is a lot to absorb. I need to do some research on our Mr. Adams.”

Ethan nodded. “And Emma?”

Stone shrugged. “I’ll talk to her. Now, here’s the million dollar question. What the fuck was Margaret thinking leaving me River Run?” He snagged the last beer in the bucket and inhaled a gulp.

“I don’t think your grandmother expected you to want River Run. What she expected was for you to protect Emma.” Ethan sighed and squeezed Stone’s shoulder. “I also believe she prayed you and your daddy would find a way back one another.”

“That’ll never happen.” Stone recognized Ethan’s silence for what it was. Disagreement. He appreciated his cousin’s refrain from verbalizing what Stone didn’t want to hear.

Ethan finally let out a shallow laugh. “And, deep down, I think she was playing matchmaker.”

“What? Me and Emma? We’re like oil and water, man. That’s also never gonna happen.”

“Really?” Ethan said, his mouth twitched with laughter.

Stone glared at his cousin. “Really.”

“Have you looked at her? I mean really
looked
at her?”

Stone slid his boots on, stood, tossed his empty bottle in the bucket. “I’m not going there.
Ever
.”

“Okay. Seth will be thrilled to hear that. He’s got a bit of a crush on little Emma.”

Stone jogged to his truck and waved back at his cousin. “Fine, she’s all his.”

“If you say so,” Ethan laughed as he walked into the house.

Igniting the engine, Stone continued to frown. What was it that Ethan said that’d turned the afternoon grey? Emma. Danger. He was on that. No worries. Something else niggled, something about Seth, but it was as elusive as a mole in sunlight.

Chapter Six

I thought you were someone else
, Stone’s voice taunted. After all these weeks, you’d think she’d find a way to fix this scratch in her memory. Stone’s verbalization about his tryst with Tilly grated her mind like nails on a chalkboard.

Emma made her way down the winding, gravel drive. Fall snapped its fingers last week and painted the horizon with vibrant orange and red. Two months, she mused. She’d survived two months within the same household as Stone Connor.

She wondered whether Stone’s four seasons meant the entire season or if he’d be free of the ranch by springtime. If so, they’d waltzed right into Season Two, and she figured she’d almost crossed the halfway point.

Over the past weeks, River Run symbolized a trophy neither Stone nor herself were willing to relinquish. They’d drawn lines, schemed and then arrived at the same conclusion. Working together appeared to be the only solution. Stone stepped into his authoritative duties, protecting his legacy with the iron hand of a military general. Emma catered to the guests, reinforced River Run’s five-star rating, and prayed nightly her boss didn’t turn his razor sharp intuitiveness in her direction.

Inhaling the brisk autumn air, she stretched her arms to the late morning sun. Last night, the temperature dropped into the low forties, and the first fire of the season crackled and burned in River Run’s hearth. She could smell the burnt oak each time a soft breeze blew from behind. The sun promised to warm the day, holding at bay the icy wind that blew from the top of the Grand Tetons. It’d be another few weeks before first snowfall.

Emma finally reached the main gate. Where was Nate?

The crunch of gravel to her back made her sigh with a bit of dread. She turned and waved as Stone Connor pulled his Jeep to the gate. “Hop in,” he barked.

“I’m meeting someone.”

Emma watched a myriad of emotions cross Stone’s eyes, but he bit back any reference to his father. “Can you call and reschedule. We need to talk.”

Panic bubbled in her gut. “Can it wait?”

Stone sighed and rolled his eyes. “I haven’t pried into your business with him once over the past few weeks. I’m politely requesting that you reschedule today because we have important things to talk about.” Stone paused. He snagged his ball cap off his head and ran his fingers through the mop of black hair matted to his forehead. “I know who you are,
Emilie
.”

Emma froze. Air drained from her lungs and she slipped to the ground, hugging her knees to her chest. “Who else?” Her voice sounded tinny as she fought against the ring of fear. “Who else have you told?”

“What?” Stone jumped out of the Jeep. “No one. I wouldn’t tell anyone and endanger you.”

Emma shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t care who the hell you are, Emma O’Malley – Emilie Gallagher. Doesn’t make a difference. What I do care about is the fact that my grandmother expected me to keep you safe. I can do that…if you let me.” He helped her back to her feet. “If you trust me.”

Emma gazed into his eyes. There were no clouds. No dishonesty. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Because it’s how I’m made.” He offered her a genuine smile. “They don’t let just anyone into the Rangers, you know.”

She grinned and tilted her head. “I know.”

Nate Connor’s battered truck pulled up to the gate. Emma waved at him to stay in the vehicle and then offered her full attention back to Stone. “Can this wait just an hour? I promise I’ll be back by two.”

The ease exited Stone’s stance, and she hated the fact she’d caused that. “Fine. We’ll talk at two.”

Before rational thinking took hold, Emma stood on her tiptoes and kissed Stone’s cheek. He stepped back, but she rested the palm of her hand where her lips had been. “Thank you, Stone.”

She backed away, but the flare of emotion flickering in the depths of Stone’s eyes hadn’t gone unnoticed. Emma quickly unlocked and slipped through the side pedestrian gate. Waving at Nate, she jogged to the vehicle, opened the passenger side, and hopped in.

“Mornin’, baby girl.” Nate grinned and winked. He put the truck in gear and drove away. “You okay?” He nodded toward the Jeep that headed back up the drive to River Run.

“Fine.”

They’d managed this weekly rendezvous, and to Emma’s delight it seemed enough for Nate.

A few weeks of hyperventilating each time Nate’s truck pulled onto the main road had dimmed to a tiny pinprick of fear. Fifteen years Emma stayed hidden behind the walls of River Run, rarely venturing into town. Now, spending one day a week riding beside Nate, the world waved a carrot under her nose.

They’d hiked and explored the wilderness of the national parks that made their corner of the world famous. Nate’s constant state of nervousness dimmed the golden trips to a dull silver, but Emma ignored his concerns, insisting they continue these weekly visits.

Leaning over, she planted a kiss on Nate’s cheek. “Where’re we heading today?”

“I thought, if you didn’t have to be back for a few hours, you might like to see the cabin.”

“Really?” Emma smiled brightly. “Is it done? You’ve been so secretive.”

The older man grinned like a kid with his first baseball bat. “It’s done.”

She clapped in delight. “I can’t wait.”

“How’s my son?” Nate asked.

Emma’s heart sank. They danced this fox trot every time he picked her up. She couldn’t dissuade his innumerable questions nor quench his insatiable need to connect with his own flesh and blood. But, damn, if squaring off his son’s hatred and protecting Nate wasn’t becoming an angry cyclone.