The Ugly Duckling (22 page)

Peter came to her room five minutes later. He was dressed in khaki shorts and a T-shirt that bore the imprint of a grinning alligator wearing a Braves baseball cap. An identical cap perched jauntily on his head. His blue eyes glinted with excitement. “We’re going to Nicholas’s ranch. Did he tell you?”

“Yes, he told me.”

He plopped down on the bed. “He has horses and sheep and a dog named Sam.”

“That’s nice.”

“I’ve never had a dog. Daddy didn’t like the barking.”

“Only a snake.”

He nodded. “But Nicholas said there are other dogs on the ranch. Sheepdogs that work the herds. He said Jean will let me watch them.”

“And who is Jean?”

“His foreman. Jean Etch—” He stopped. “Something. I don’t remember.”

She smiled indulgently. “But you remember his dog is named Sam.”

“No, that’s Nicholas’s dog, a German shepherd. He doesn’t work the sheep. The Border collies work the sheep.”

He already knew more about Nicholas’s private life than she did, she realized in amusement. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask all their names too.”

“That was last night. Nicholas told me to shut up and go to sleep.”

When she remembered Tanek’s mood last night, she was surprised he’d answered any of Peter’s questions. Or that Peter had the nerve to ask him. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to be unkind.”

“Unkind?” He looked at her in bewilderment. “You mean mad? He wasn’t mad anymore. He just wanted to go to sleep.”

And he had evidently been very patient with Peter. A quality she had not seen Tanek display. “And you don’t mind leaving your home?”

His smile faded a little, and he looked away from her. “I don’t mind. I’d rather be with you and Nicholas.”

“Peter … I can’t promise you that—It may not be—” She broke off as she saw his expression.

“I know,” he said quietly. “You may not want me around for long. It’s okay.”

“I didn’t say— Things are difficult. I may have to go away.”

“It’s okay,” he said again. “Everyone goes away. Or they send me away.”

She stared at him helplessly.

“But not for a while. Not before I see the dogs?”

Dammit. She swallowed hard and turned away.

“No, not for a long time after that.” Three months. Time was relevant. An eternity for her might fly by for Peter. She smiled with an effort. “And maybe we can work out something for you after I go away.”

“Maybe.” Suddenly his smile returned. “Do you like my cap and shirt? I told Nicholas I liked the Braves.”

“It’s a great cap and a magnificent shirt.” She turned toward the door. “Let’s go find Nicholas.”

“W
hat have you found out about Simpson?” Nicholas said when Jamie answered the phone.

“He’s still missing. His apartment was ransacked. I checked on his lady. She left for Paris two days ago.”

“Did you get the photostats of the records I sent you?”

“Yesterday.”

“I want you to verify them.”

“The account books? I thought you said that it wouldn’t do us any good without—”

“Not the account books, the Medas file. If it’s accurate, I want you to dig.”

“Are you going to tell Nell what you found out?”

“No way.”

“If she finds out you’re keeping it from her, you’ll get a backlash.”

An understatement, but he couldn’t risk the explosion he knew would come if she found out what was in Simpson’s file. “Just follow up on it.” A knock sounded on the door. “I have to go. If you find out anything more, contact me at the ranch.” He hung up the phone. “Come in.”

Peter and Nell came into the room. They looked like two escapees from Disney World. Both young and so damn vulnerable he wanted to scoop them up and
put them behind bars to keep them safe. What the hell had he gotten himself into?

“We’re ready.” Nell made a face. “Providing they’ll let us on the airplane in this gear.”

Nicholas’s glance wandered from slim, shapely legs to breasts outlined by the soft material of the T-shirt. He felt a ripple of familiar heat.

Christ, not now. Not this woman.

He turned away abruptly and reached for his duffel bag on the bed. “Oh, I don’t think there’s any doubt they’ll let you board the plane.” He headed for the door. “But the flight attendant may want to give you a pair of Mickey Mouse ears and a coloring book.”

“Another fence?” Nell asked as Tanek got out of the Jeep and moved toward the gate. “That’s three. You do believe in security.”

“I believe in staying alive. This is the last one.” He punched a combination into the lock on the gate. The gate swung noiselessly open. “It’s electric and surrounds the house and stable area.” He glanced at Peter in the backseat. “Stay away from the fence, Peter. It will give you a shock.”

He frowned. “Does it hurt the dogs?”

“Sam knows better than to touch it, and the livestock and outbuildings are on another part of the property outside the fences. This is only the homestead. The actual working ranch is the Bar X, several miles north of here.”

“That’s good.” He went back to staring eagerly out the window. “It looks … funny out there.”

Nell knew what he meant. In the distance the Sawtooth mountains towered majestically, but as far as the eye could see the land was flat and barren. Yet there was no impression of desolation. There was something … there, waiting. “You have plenty of room.”

“Right. I dreamed about space while I was growing up in Hong Kong. All the people there nearly smothered me.”

I believe in staying alive
.

She studied Tanek’s face as he got back in the car. He had spoken flatly, almost casually, and she was reminded of that moment at the airport when Reardon had said he didn’t like to take taxis. Survival was a way of life to Tanek, and it had never been more obvious to her until she saw the fortress with which he surrounded himself. “You must feel very safe here,” she said quietly. “You’ve made yourself impregnable.”

“You’re never impregnable. You just do your best.” He drove through the gates which swung shut automatically behind him. “I don’t think the fence or gate can be breached, but a helicopter with a missile launcher could wipe me out with no problem.”

“Missile launchers?” She smiled. “That does sound paranoid.”

“Maybe. But it could happen if someone was determined enough. The South American drug lords have an ample supply.”

“So what do you do to protect yourself?”

He shrugged. “No one lives forever. If it’s not a missile, it might be a tornado that gets me. You do the best you can, you take out insurance.” He glanced at her. “And you live every moment as if it’s your last.”

He parked the Jeep in front of the house and jumped out. “Michaela,” he called out.

“I’m here. You need not bellow.” A tall, thin woman in her mid-forties came out of the house. She wore jeans and a loose plaid shirt, but her carriage lent the rough clothes elegance. “I heard the bell when you unlocked the gate.” Her gaze went to Nell and then to Peter. “You have guests. Welcome.” There was an almost foreign formality in her manner.

Nell stared at her. The woman’s features were strong and bold and had an almost Egyptian serenity.

“This is Michaela Etchbarras,” Tanek said. “I’d call her my housekeeper, but she doesn’t keep it, she runs it and everything else around here.” He helped Nell from the Jeep. “Nell Calder. Peter Drake. They’ll be staying awhile.”

“And you?” the woman asked Tanek.

He nodded.

“Good. Sam has missed you. You should not have an animal if you have to leave it alone. I’ll let him out of the kitchen.” She went back into the house.

“Etchbarras,” Peter said suddenly. “That was the name. He has the sheepdogs.”

“Michaela is married to Jean.” Tanek grimaced. “She deigns to act as my housekeeper whenever Jean is upland with the sheep. Otherwise she goes back to the Bar X and sends one of her daughters to clean twice a week.”

“How many daughters does she have?” Nell asked.

“Four.”

“I’m surprised you let them on the property considering how careful you were with that poor room service clerk at the hotel.”

“They came with the property. No danger. The Etchbarras family has been here tending the sheep since the turn of the century. They came from the Basque country of Spain to settle. Most of the people around here are Basque. It’s a tight community. I’m the outsider.”

“But you own this place.”

“Do I? I bought it with money. They paid for it with a different commodity.” His lips tightened. “But you’re right, it’s mine and I’ll learn how to belong here and keep what’s mine.”

The strength of the possessiveness in his voice surprised
her. This place was clearly not only a fortress to him. Nell’s gaze went to the door through which the housekeeper had vanished. She said absently, “She has a fantastic face. She’d make a wonderful portrait subject.”

He raised a mocking brow. “Do I detect a gender impulse burning in that fanatic breast? Painting? What a complete waste of time.”

She was surprised herself. She hadn’t thought of her painting since Medas. “It was just a comment. I didn’t say I was going to do it. You’re right, I’ll have no time.”

“You never know.” His gaze went to the mountains. “Time seems to slow here. You might—”

A brown and tan tornado hurtled through the front door. Tanek staggered back as the German shepherd’s front feet hit his chest. He grunted.

The dog was making frantic moaning noises as he tried to lick Tanek’s face.

“Down, Sam.”

The dog ignored him.

Tanek sighed resignedly and knelt on the ground, where the dog could reach him. “Get it over.”

Nell stared in amazement as the dog bounded excitedly around him, lunging in to lick his face.

Grimacing, Tanek lifted his arm over his mouth to avoid the dog’s tongue. He scowled as he met her gaze across the porch. “What did you expect? Rin Tin Tin? I’m no dog trainer. The only command he obeys is ‘Come to dinner.’ ”

Tanek always exuded such power and confidence, she supposed she had never thought he would permit an animal to be anything but disciplined and well trained in his presence. “He’s beautiful.”

“Yeah.” Tanek affectionately rubbed the dog’s ears. “I like him.”

That was evident. She had never seen Tanek this open before.

“May I pet him?” Peter asked.

“In time. He doesn’t like strangers.”

That seemed impossible to Nell. The dog was now on his back in the most submissive of positions, whimpering in delight as Tanek scratched his chest. She took a step closer.

The dog was instantly on his feet, his lips drawn back in a snarl.

She stopped in shock.

“Easy,” Tanek said soothingly. “They’re okay, boy.”

“He acts as if he’s been trained as an attack dog.”

“Only by life.” He stood up. “I found him half starved by the side of the road when he was only a pup. He doesn’t trust many people.” He smiled at Peter. “Let him get used to you.”

Peter nodded, but he was clearly disappointed. “I wanted him to like me.”

“He will.” He moved toward the front door. “I’ll have Michaela drive you over to the sheep ranch tomorrow morning. The sheepdogs are much more friendly.”

Peter brightened. “May I stay there for a while?”

He shook his head. “In a few days the hands will be going to the high country to bring the sheep back for the winter.”

“But when they get back?”

“If it’s all right with Jean.”

Peter turned to Nell and said diffidently, “It’s not that I don’t want to be with you. You’ve been nice to me. It’s just that—”

“Dogs.” She smiled. “I know, Peter.”

“Come along.” Michaela stood in the doorway. “I don’t have all day. I have to show you your rooms. It’ll
be dark in an hour. Jean is coming in from the herds tonight and I have to get home and fix his dinner.”

Tanek bowed mockingly. “We’ll come at once. Just show Peter his room and I’ll take Nell around. We wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

“You won’t. I’ve set a casserole in the oven for you to serve yourself. Come along, Peter.” She went back into the house. Peter followed her eagerly.

Nell and Tanek entered directly into the living room. “It’s larger than it looks from outside,” Nell said. “It sort of rambles.”

“I built on after I bought the place. I told you I liked space.”

Nell looked around at the airy room furnished with camel-colored leather mission furniture grouped around a huge fireplace with a stone hearth. White flowers cascading from copper vases occupied the occasional tables, a large Chinese urn in the corner of the room brimmed with golden chrysanthemums. On the walls she had expected to see Indian rugs or cowboy artifacts, but instead there were paintings of every description.

She crossed to stand before the one over the fireplace. “Delacroix?”

“Would I be barbarian enough to hide a Delacroix here in the wilderness with no one but me to appreciate it?”

She glanced at him, remembering the possessiveness she had noticed only minutes before. “Yes.”

He chuckled. “Right. Treasures are for the pleasure of those who can take and keep them.”

“Take? Did you—”

“No, I didn’t steal it. I bought it at auction. I’m strictly legitimate these days.” He led her out the door and down a long hall. “There are five bedrooms with adjoining baths in this wing and a study and a moderately
well-equipped gym in the other wing.” He threw open a door. “This room is yours. There’s only one television in the house, and that’s in the study, but there are plenty of books. I hope you’ll be comfortable.”

She didn’t see how she could help it. The room was simply furnished but exuded comfort. A white down comforter was thrown over the double bed. A tapestry-cushioned rocking chair occupied the corner of the room by a casement window. A cherrywood bookcase on the opposite wall overflowed with books and plants. “It’s very nice. I’m surprised your guests ever leave.”

“I seldom have guests. This is my place. I don’t like to share.”

She turned to look at him. “Then you must doubly resent my presence here. I promise I won’t get in your way any more than necessary.”

“It was my choice. I brought you.” He nodded at a door across the room. “Bathroom. You’ll want to wash up before supper.”