The Next Mrs. Blackthorne (Bitter Creek Book 6) (19 page)

“Can’t what?” an irritated voice said from the doorway.

North tried to shut the door behind him, but a huge deputy caught it with both his hand and his foot and said, “You okay with this guy, Judge Blackthorne?”

“Yes, Harvey. Thanks,” Clay replied.

The deputy backed out, and North shoved the door closed behind him before turning to confront Clay.

Jocelyn felt her pulse speed as Clay released her. She realized their embrace probably appeared more intimate to North than it was.

“What brings you here, North?” Clay said.

“I came to get Joss.”

“If I’m not mistaken, Jocelyn drove herself here,” Clay said. “I’m sure she can—”

“She’s coming with me,” North said.

“Why don’t we end this farce, so Jocelyn’s free to go when she wants and with whom she wants,” Clay said. “Why don’t you sell that Bitter Creek stock back to me right here. Right now.”

North shot Jocelyn a look that asked whether she’d betrayed him.

“I haven’t said a word,” she said.

“She didn’t need to tell me what’s going on,” Clay said. “I figured it out for myself. After all, why else would any woman willingly put herself in the way of a bastard like you?”

Jocelyn gasped, afraid Clay’s fighting words might actually provoke violence.

To her amazement, although North’s jaw muscles worked furiously, he merely turned to her and said, “Let’s go, Joss.”

“Don’t go, Jocelyn,” Clay said. “I can tell you stories about King Grayhawk that would make your hair stand on end. And it’s obvious the apple hasn’t fallen far from the tree. Blackmail. Coercion. The destruction of lives and fortunes.”

North’s hands fisted, and he took a step toward Clay as he said, “Go to hell, Blackthorne.”

“That’s enough,” Jocelyn said, as the two men glared at each other. She turned her back on North and said, “Thank you, Clay. Think about what we discussed.” Then she turned to North and said, “I’m done here.”

She could see the tension in North’s body, the dangerous shards of ice in his blue eyes, but she had no intention of allowing two men she cared about to pound each other to a pulp.

“Stay away from her,” North said, pointing a finger at Clay over Jocelyn’s shoulder.

Jocelyn shot Clay a look warning him not to retaliate, which kept him silent. Then she grabbed North by the hand and reached for the doorknob. “Let’s go,” she said.

For a moment, North resisted. Then he followed her out the door.

Jocelyn wasn’t sure how she felt about the fact North had followed her to Austin. She eyed him sideways as they left the courthouse, wondering whether he’d been motivated simply by a sense of possessiveness, or whether deeper feelings, feelings Clay had said North would never—could never—exhibit might be involved.

“I told Breed to tell you I’d be back after lunch,” Jocelyn said.

“Apparently, he didn’t believe you.”

“Why wouldn’t I come back?”

North stopped suddenly on the sidewalk and turned her toward him, grasping her arms. “Because of last night.”

Jocelyn blushed and lowered her eyes. “I loved what happened last night.”

North abruptly released her. “I thought…”

Jocelyn looked up at his face, which might have been made of granite, for all the emotion it revealed. “What did you think, North?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said.

“It does to me.”

“I thought maybe you didn’t want—”

She put her fingertips over his mouth. “I wanted you. I always wanted you.”

She saw his blue eyes flare, saw the muscle flex in his cheek, and became aware of a sudden tension between them.

She ran her finger across his lower lip, her eyes sparkling with laughter. “In the middle of the sidewalk in downtown Austin?”

He grabbed her hand away from his mouth and dragged her down the street after him. “Don’t push me, Joss. I had work to do this morning that didn’t get done.”

Jocelyn dug in her high heels, causing North to stop and turn toward her, irritation now written plain on his face.

“Yesterday you wanted me gone,” she said. “What’s changed? Why did you ‘waste’ your morning driving to Austin coming after me?”

If she’d hoped North would reveal any softer emotion toward her, she was doomed to disappointment.

“I offered you your freedom,” he said in a harsh voice. “You threw it back in my face. Now I’m holding you to our bargain. You’re mine until September.”

“I don’t like the way you make that sound,” Jocelyn said. “You don’t own me.”

“You don’t have to like it,” North said. “You just have to stick to our agreement.”

Jocelyn felt like crying, but she’d be damned if she’d give North the satisfaction of seeing her fall apart. Clay had warned her. She knew she was fighting an uphill battle. But she’d been there last night when North had turned to her not once, not twice, but three times.

It hadn’t been about the sex, although the sex had been wonderful. It had been about a man and a woman needing each other, wanting each other, finding solace in each other. And yes, she thought, loving each other. Even if North would never admit it.

“I’ve got my car,” she said. “I’ll drive myself.”

He opened his mouth to speak, then seemed to change his mind. “I’ll follow you,” he said finally.

“I want to do some shopping first.”

He grimaced. “I’ll go with you.”

Jocelyn pursed her lips. She couldn’t believe North was going to make the ultimate sacrifice. “I thought you had work to do.”

“It can wait.”

Jocelyn couldn’t hold back a smile. “Fine. Let’s go.”

North reached for her hand, and she gave it to him. His grasp tightened and he started down the sidewalk. The sunlight felt warm on her face. And the skies had never looked so blue.

Kate was coming out the door of the courthouse when she saw Donnie Brown standing near the sawhorse police barricade blocking Eighth Street to traffic, arguing with his mother. Donnie’s head was hung low, his eyes on the ground, and his mother seemed to be haranguing him about something, punctuating her speech by stabbing her cigarette at him. Then Kate saw his mother storm away.

Jack had more than once told her she should steer clear of Bomber Brown’s son. Which, of course, only made Kate go out of her way to be nice to him. Today, she felt downright sorry for him. “Hi, Donnie,” she said. “How’s it going?”

“You should know,” he said, crushing out his mother’s cigarette stub with his booted foot. “You were sitting there when your dad let in all that evidence against my dad.”

Kate ignored the edge in Donnie’s voice, attributing it to his recent tongue-lashing from his mother, and said, “He only did what he had to do.”

“Donnie Brown!” A TV newsman stuck a microphone practically up Donnie’s nose and said, “How do you think the trial’s going?”

Donnie said nothing, simply put his third finger up in front of the TV camera.

“Cut!” the newsman said to his cameraman, making a cutting motion across his throat. He turned back to Donnie and said, “I’ve been trying to get a quote from you for the past month, kid. When are you going to give me something I can use?”

“When hell freezes over,” Donnie said.

The reporter shook his head, then moved off to easier prey.

Kate understood Donnie’s frustration with the constant press attention. She felt the same way about the bodyguard who never left her alone. She’d forgotten what privacy felt like.

“You going back in?” Donnie asked.

“No, I’m going shopping with my mom.” She glanced over her shoulder at her mother, who’d stopped at the top of the steps to answer her cell phone. “How ’bout you?” Kate said.

“Yeah. Might as well see how this all plays out. I heard the lawyers are going to do their summations tomorrow. I dread facing that all alone. I mean, my mother and brother are no comfort at all.”

“Want some company?” Kate asked.

“That would be great,” Donnie said. “I’d really like to have you there to hold my hand. Not really hold it, I mean, just be there for support.”

“You can count on me to be there.” She might even manage to come without her bodyguard, whose enormous gun, she knew, made Donnie nervous. She could tell her bodyguard that her uncle Owen was going to keep an eye on her. She’d done that a couple of times in the past.

Kate looked into Donnie’s relieved, freckled face and said, “See you at 9:01.”

Kate had always enjoyed shopping with her mother, but she felt guilty as she began trying on wedding gowns. She came out of the dressing room wearing a strapless white creation that was beaded with pearls across the bodice and fell in an A-line to the floor. She was also wearing a simple net veil that dropped to her waist in back, held in place by a crown decorated with pearls.

“Ta-da!” she said as she twirled in a circle before the mirrors that dominated the showroom. “What do you think, Mom?”

She turned to her mother, who was sitting on a couch nearby, and realized her mother’s eyes were brimming with tears.

“Don’t cry, Mom,” Kate said, hurrying to her mother and stooping down so they could see eye to eye.

“You’re so beautiful,” her mother said, stroking Kate’s hair where it fell away from her bare shoulders. “I can’t believe my baby is going to be a bride.”

Kate’s heart sank. She felt a surge of guilt so strong she nearly blurted out the truth. She reminded herself of her ultimate goal—to get her mother into a wedding gown—and remained silent. “Thank you, Mom.” She smiled mischievously and said, “But to tell you the truth, this dress pinches!”

Her mother laughed through her tears. “Then I guess you better go try on something else.”

Kate came out next in a gown with puffy sleeves and a full skirt with a thousand layers of net that made her feel like a fairy-tale princess. She twirled for her mother and said, “Jack would have to be waiting for me at the altar wearing a suit of shining armor if I showed up in this.”

“Jack won’t even see your dress,” her mother said. “He’ll only be looking at you.”

Kate forced a laugh. “I had no idea you were such a romantic.”

“Once upon a time—” Her mother stopped and laughed awkwardly. “Is there anything else back there you’d like to show me?”

Kate tried on several more dresses, but seeing how her mother was affected by the whole experience made it one of the most uncomfortable hours she’d ever spent. She managed to get through it by remembering the way her father had looked at her mother that morning in his chambers. And by reminding herself that, because of her charade as a bride, her parents had agreed to spend an entire weekend together at Bitter Creek. Surely once they were alone together, nature would take its course.

As she and her mother were leaving the bridal shop, Kate said, “Actually, Jack and I aren’t staying with you and Daddy at Bitter Creek.”

“Oh?” her mother said warily.

They’d arrived at her mother’s rental car, and after she unlocked the door and opened it to let the heat out, her mother stood looking across the hood of the car waiting for Kate’s explanation.

Kate filled her voice with enthusiasm and said, “There’s this really neat cabin on Bitter Creek where President Eisenhower once slept, and I thought you’d love it, so I talked Summer and Billy into putting you and Daddy there.”

Libby’s lips flattened. “So I’m not welcome after all.”

“They weren’t overjoyed that I wanted you to come,” Kate admitted, which was a whopper of an understatement. Grandpa Blackjack had nearly had a cow. “I just thought having you and Daddy stay at the cabin would make it easier on everyone.

“I see.” Her mother slipped into the driver’s side and turned on the ignition to get the AC started. She waited for Kate to slip into the passenger’s seat and asked, “Where will you and Jack be staying?”

“We’ll be at the Castle,” Kate said. The main ranch house at Bitter Creek was so enormous that someone had dubbed it the Castle. Kate thought the name fit, because like a castle in England, there were lots of old things—paintings and furniture and silverware and chandeliers and knickknacks—that had been accumulated over more than a century by the Blackthornes living there.

Her mother turned sideways in her seat so she was facing Kate and said, “How far is the house where Clay and I are staying from the Castle?”

Kate found it hard to hold her mother’s stern gaze. Since the ranch was the size of a small northeastern state, it was possible for all of them to be on Bitter Creek land, yet staying some distance from each other. “Twenty-five miles,” she admitted at last.

“I don’t like being manipulated, Kate.”

Kate felt her heart squeeze. She swallowed hard over the painful lump that suddenly constricted her throat. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m not going to sidle up to the Blackthornes with my head hung low in shame for what the beastly Grayhawks have done to the poor, helpless Blackthornes—and then run off to some cabin with my tail between my legs!”

Kate sat in a miserable huddle on her side of the car, as her mother shoved the car into gear and drove her back to her condo. She’d been telling herself like a mantra that everything she did was aimed at her mother and father’s ultimate happiness, that they belonged together, that all she needed to do was give them a nudge in the right direction and they’d find true love again.

The truth was, Kate didn’t really know whether her parents wanted to be together. Neither of them had ever confided in her. For the very first time, she felt a niggle of doubt about the plans she’d set in motion.

When her mother reached the Westgate, she put the car in park, then reached out and cupped Kate’s chin, turning her face so they were eye to eye. “After your wedding I’ll be returning to Wyoming. And I’ll be staying there. There isn’t going to be any reconciliation between me and your father.”

Kate jerked free. “Mom, why not?”

“It won’t work, Kate. I gave your father every chance—”

“But, Mom,” Kate pleaded, scooting forward in her seat toward her mother, “you and Daddy are meant to be together. I know it!”

“You have to let your father and me find our own way, sweetheart. Right now, our lives are taking us in different directions. I have my guide trips in the mountains around Jackson Hole, and your father has his work in the courtroom here in Austin.”

Her mother brushed Kate’s hair away from her face, a gesture meant to soothe her, to calm her, to make her accept facts that Kate found totally unacceptable.

“Then why did you agree to go to Bitter Creek this weekend?” Kate demanded, sitting back and crossing her arms so all contact between her and her mother was broken.

“Honestly? For your sake.”

“What?” Kate exclaimed.

“Your father and I are both worried that you may be making a mistake with Jack.”

“I’m not! I’m not,” she said, knowing that she was protesting too much, but too agitated to shut up. “Really, Mom. You’re so wrong. Jack is a wonderful man. He’s…He’s…”

Kate realized she didn’t know much more about Jack McKinley than her parents had gotten him to reveal over dinner a month ago. She knew he’d once been accused of cheating, was in some kind of trouble with the IRS, and had agreed to participate in this charade with her. Which suggested he didn’t have much trouble lying. Which could hardly be considered a positive attribute she could tout to her mother.

Her mother gave her a sympathetic, loving look that made Kate’s stomach churn. She resisted blurting that she and Jack weren’t getting married, that she wasn’t even sure Jack
liked
her, and he sure as hell didn’t
love
her, so her mom could just tuck her tail between her legs and run back to Wyoming and spend the rest of her life alone, like a bitter old spinster, for all Kate cared.

The meanness of her thoughts horrified Kate.

She lurched across the seat and put her arms around her mother and said, “I’m so sorry, Mom.”

“There’s no need for you to be sorry, Kate. Your heart has always been in the right place.”

Since her mother didn’t know what she’d been thinking, and Kate had no intention of telling her, she simply hugged her mother tighter and said, “I love you, Mom.”

“This will all work out, Kate,” her mother said, patting her back, as she had when Kate had been a small child. “Please don’t worry about this weekend. Your father and I are on better terms now than we have been for a very long time. I’m sure we can manage to get through a couple of days with a crowd of nasty old Blackthornes.”

Kate laughed, then sat back and brushed at the unaccustomed tears that threatened to squeeze past her guard. “You mean you’re still going? I thought—”

“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away,” her mother said. “I’m not about to miss the chance to look every single one of those goddamn Blackthornes right in the eye and
dare
them to say a harsh word against me or any of mine!”

Kate stared at her mother, astonished at her outburst. Until she remembered how much hurt her mother must have suffered over the years. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Grandpa Blackjack’s face when Libby Grayhawk showed up on his doorstep.

As quickly as her mother’s rant began, it was over. Her mother put the car in gear, then turned to Kate and said, “Just, please, don’t do any more finagling.”

Kate didn’t respond, which kept her from having to lie. Anything could happen if her parents were together for an entire weekend. She’d seen herself how cacti could blossom in the desert.

Kate had a Thursday afternoon class she couldn’t miss, so as her mother headed back to her room at the Four Seasons, Kate hurried inside to pick up her books.

Kate changed out of her cowboy boots into tennis shoes, slipped her book bag onto her back, and started out the door—where she literally ran into Jack, her breasts coming into contact with what turned out to be a very muscular chest.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, feeling a physical awareness of Jack McKinley that irritated her, because he seemed so totally unaffected himself. “Why didn’t you knock?”

“We need to talk,” he said.

“I have class,” she told him. “You can walk with me if you like, and we can talk on the way.” She tugged on a baseball cap and headed down the hall.

“The campus is a long walk from here,” Jack said, striding beside her. “Let me give you a ride. That way we can talk in private.”

“I need the exercise,” Kate said, hitting the elevator button to take her back downstairs. They were on the sidewalk a moment later, Kate setting a fast pace so she wouldn’t be late.

“Something’s come up, and I can’t go with you this weekend.”

Kate stopped in her tracks and turned to face Jack. “You’re not going this weekend?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“This game was fun while it lasted, kid, but I’ve got work to do.”

Kate’s whole body turned to ice. A pretty good trick when the temperature was in the eighties. She wanted to speak, but her tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of her mouth. “So you really have been baby-sitting me,” Kate murmured, her face suddenly flushing with heat as the blood began to flow again.