Twice A Target (Task Force Eagle) (17 page)

Since they’d already made up their minds about her,
why did they come, other than to reassure themselves of Bobby’s safety? Holt
had a nagging feeling the skirmish wasn’t over.

In the kitchen, Patterson shrugged on his overcoat,
then cleared his throat. “Finances can exacerbate instability in such a
makeshift family. It would be a shame if the bank doubted your ability to repay
the equity loan. The board might have to demand repayment early.”

At the threat, Maddy exploded. She quivered with
anger. “So that was the reason you came here tonight, to threaten Holt, you
slimy—”

“Don’t, Maddy.” Holt wished he could tell them exactly
what he thought. Slimy was too fucking mild. “Don’t give them the
satisfaction.”

He turned to the Pattersons. “Bobby’s a Donovan, and
he’ll be raised a Donovan. I take care of my own. From now on, I’ll bring Bobby
to town for your visits. You’re not welcome on the Valley-D.”

“Come, Edgar,” Phyllis said on an imperious sniff.
“We’ll have our grandson out of this place soon enough.”

“Have you heard?” Patterson straightened his shoulders
for his final salvo. “Judge Gilbert set the court date for the custody hearing.
May 26. You have two weeks. Then our grandson comes home with us. For good.”

Chapter 17

The nightmare plagued Maddy again that night. With a
change. This time, when Rob’s ghost approached her, it was through a hail of
bullets. When Bobby’s wail summoned her, she moaned a relieved thanks. Holt’s
bedroom door stood open, his bed still made.

After the Pattersons had left, she and Holt hashed
over what to do, but resolved nothing. Stiff-backed, he’d stomped off to his
room, saying he intended to go over the books. To find extra money for the
loan. Nothing she could do to help with that.

“But where is he now, pumpkin?” she asked the
red-faced infant. “Bet I know. You mind a walk outside?”

A few minutes later, carrying a freshly diapered and
blanketed Bobby and his bottle, she trailed Holt out to the barn. “The light’s
a dead giveaway,” she whispered.

When she entered the tack room, Holt dropped the
bridle he was mending and surged from the bench. “Something wrong with the
baby?”

“Bobby’s fine.” She sat on another low bench and
arranged Bobby on her lap. “We were worried about you.” She spread the extra
flap of blanket over her knees for warmth. Soon the comforting gurgles of the
baby inhaling his bottle calmed both adults. A space unit in one corner heated
the small room to a comfortable temperature.

Holt picked up the abandoned bridle, a hackamore. He
heaved a deep sigh. “After I went over the books, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Could the bank really call in the loan early? That
sounds fishy.”

“I don’t know. I’ll call Chris Hawke tomorrow to find
out. There’s a clause in the loan agreement that might apply. Patterson’s a
greedy son of a bitch, but setting up his daughter’s husband to lose his ranch
would rank him lower than a snake’s belly.”

“Can you pay?”

“I’ve used up most of my savings keeping the place
afloat as it is. I don’t like to sell cattle before they fatten up in the
summer, but I may have to. If I unload a few head, it might be enough for a
couple of payments, to show good faith, but no way can I pay off the balance.”
He dragged a hand through his hair. “It would set back my long-term goals.”

“Oh?” She waited, her gaze on him, hoping he’d trust
her enough to elaborate.

“Not enough land here to make it a big-time beef herd.
I’d like to have a breeding operation. That means keeping a small but prime
herd of cow-calf pairs and a few top-of-the-line bulls. Building takes time and
care. It doesn’t mean selling animals for a quick infusion of cash.”

“What about Will Rafferty’s offer?”

“You mean sell Ghost Mountain?”

“Or the lease arrangement. Would that bring in enough
to pay off the loan?”

“The sale would. And then some.” His shoulders
slumped, and he hung his head nearly between his knees as if the idea of
selling land nauseated him. “I can’t do it. I can’t sell part of the ranch for
any reason. It’s all I have left, all Bobby and I have.” When he raised his
head, the pain in his gaze wrenched her nearly in two.

She had investments, but he was too proud to accept
what he’d see as charity, especially from her. Not worth even asking. “So that
means selling cattle.”

“Looks like it.” He fastened the last new leather
piece in the hackamore. He cocked his head at her. “The custody suit worries me
more. Patterson rode you pretty hard.”

“Not anything you haven’t said yourself.”
And
worse.
She propped Bobby on her shoulder. “I’m sorry my presence has made
things worse for you. I only wanted to help.”

“I don’t know if you’ve made the situation worse.
Interesting. More complicated. Asking you to stay was my idea.”

Bobby made cooing noises as Maddy patted his back.
Beyond the tack room, hooves stamped the floor as horses shifted in sleep.
Smells of hay and horses flavored the air. Outside, a hunting owl hooted.

Holt blinked away fatigue from his gritty eyes. He’d sat
out here working over the problems while working on the tack. He had an answer,
but it wouldn’t be what Maddy expected to hear. An off-the-wall suggestion
worthy of her at her most inventive. A suggestion that shocked him, knotted his
jaw—and filled a hollowness inside him he hadn’t known was there.

He leaned forward. “If the judge thinks a family means
two parents and the children, that’s what we have to give him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Marry me, Maddy.”

She nearly dropped the baby. Bobby waved his arms and
squealed with glee as he did when Holt blew zerberts on his belly. “It’s okay,
Bobby.” She resumed patting his back, but with an erratic rhythm.

She gaped as if she hadn’t heard right. Her eyes were
wide as pansies. “Marry you? Now who’s being impulsive?”

“How else could we prove your dependability? It’s the
only answer. We have to get married right away.” He’d thought the words would
choke in his throat, but they flowed out as natural as a mountain spring.

She pressed one palm to her forehead as if to calm a
whirlwind inside. “The idea’s preposterous, crazy. How could you even suggest
such a thing? Maybe it’s best if I leave. I could pack up and be out of here
tomorrow. I could use my credit card to rent a car.”

He shook his head. “If you leave now, it looks bad for
us both. You prove your flightiness, and I look weak for choosing such an
unstable woman.”

“It’s not safe around here anyway, with someone
shooting at us. Why on earth would anyone stay?”

“True enough. That’s not your battle. But if you go, I
still have no one to help care for Bobby. I see no other solution.”

As if to punctuate his uncle’s statement, Bobby
delivered the goods, loud and clear.

Maddy mopped Bobby’s milky mouth, nuzzled his
dandelion fluff hair, and settled him on her lap. Keeping her head down, she
cuddled his warmth. Seeing her like that, Holt recalled the softness, the
silkiness of her skin and felt a twinge of envy at his nephew’s privileged
seat.

“I know there’s not much time until the court date.
But there must be something else we can do. Couldn’t we just fake it?” When she
looked up, emotion sheeted her gaze. Sorrow at the thought of leaving? Or fear
of the idea of marriage?

“Fake it, for a judge?” He snorted his disdain. “Great
way to lose the case, lose Bobby, and get clobbered with a fine.”

“But marriage, Holt. Mr. and Mrs. Holt Donovan?”
Anguish and indecision filled her eyes. Edging forward, she passed the
goggle-eyed baby to Holt. To Bobby’s giggling delight, she stalked back and
forth like a caged cat.

Most women longed for love in their marriage. She’d
fled a wedding to a man she didn’t love. How could he expect her to accommodate
him now? Even temporarily. “After custody and adoption are final, we can get an
annulment.”

“A marriage in name only. Is that it?”

“You’re under no obligation, Maddy. Bobby has no
connection to you. He’s my family, my responsibility. You can leave tomorrow if
you want. If you care about Bobby, marry me.” Best to limit her caring to the
baby. No way he could suggest she might care enough about him to stay, let
alone marry him. He held his breath.

Narrowing her eyes, she stopped before him, arms
folded beneath her breasts. The close-up view of their perfect roundness shot
heat right to his groin. “So I can leave tomorrow. Does that mean you’ll drive
me to town?”

“If I have time.”

“If I go, how will you manage with the baby?”

“Damned if I know.” His nephew was his final card, his
only leverage.

Fury fired her expression, and she sputtered like oil
on hot coals. She was magnificent. “Guilt-trip me, will you? No connection.
No
connection
. I couldn’t be more connected to this precious babe here if he
was my own. Damn you, Donovan, you’re as big a manipulator as Edgar Patterson.
Bigger.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes. I make no apologies.”

“So cold and calculating. You claim to have such
responsibility for this sweet little boy, but how much do you love him? With
your heart encased in rock as hard as these mountains, how much
can
you
love?”

His gut tightened as if she’d punched him. He rocked his
nephew. “Bobby knows I love him. You and I could do the deed on Monday. The
state of Colorado has no wait and no blood test requirement.”

She eyed him with suspicion. “And how do you know
that?”

“When Rob and Sara were planning to get married, they
talked about eloping. He checked into it. Reckon he didn’t want to take a
chance on another bride skipping a big wedding.”

“Har de har har.” She collapsed on the bench.

“We can drive to Denver. A buddy of mine from law school’s
a superior court judge there. He’ll marry us, and we can drive back with a
license to wave at the Pattersons.”

“Get married and make it home by supper. It might
work.” The words came out slowly, as if she tasted each one, mulled its
meaning.

The tension in Holt’s jaw eased. He had her. Then why
did he feel as if he’d lassoed a mustang? One who’d run away at the first
chance—and drag him in the dirt to boot. This temporary solution gave him a
very dangerous bride.

*****

Maddy squinted through the moonless gloom at the road
sign. Ten miles to Rangewood. Rain had herded them all the way from Denver. It
sheeted a waterfall against the windows.

“Ten seems too late to pick up Bobby at Espie’s.” The
three-hour drive seemed interminable in an already endless day. She rolled her
shoulders and glanced sideways at Holt.

He nodded. “We’ll go straight to the ranch. She’ll
bring him over in the morning.”

In profile, his flattened nose gave him a fiercer look
than usual, pugnacious as a boxer. Her...husband. Intense, tenacious, proud,
powerfully male, and devastatingly sexy.

She knew his feelings—concern for his nephew’s fate
and little or nothing for her. Except desire. But that was just chemistry. She
ought to feel trapped, though the marriage was temporary. She ought to feel
anger for Holt’s coercing her into this sham, but she had herself to blame in
large part. Instead, she felt warmth, anticipation, even...joy.

Her heart thumped, and she pressed a hand over it to
keep the agitated organ inside her chest. Surreptitiously she glanced at the
circle of gold on her left hand. Holt’s grandmother’s wedding ring.
Her
wedding ring. And it fit. Perfectly. An omen? For good or ill?

She averted her gaze to the window and the black
nothingness occasionally spangled by headlights. Rain blurred even the dark.
The windshield wipers seemed to be wagging fingers berating her. A second
promise to herself was shattered. Her throat clogged, and she fought tears.

I love him.
She’d fallen in love with Holt.

The marriage—charade though it was—embedded her more
deeply in his and Bobby’s lives and sank tendrils into the soil of the
Valley-D. Yet she had to go on as they planned. She would leave in June,
ripping up roots that would were part of her now. She couldn’t invest and build
on the Circle-S or ever return again. Either would cleave her in even more
pieces.

“We’ll have to convince everyone we’re truly married,”
Holt said in an even tone.

“We
are
truly married,” she snapped at his
seeming sangfroid. He was planning and organizing as if this were a DEA case or
a cattle sale.

The Silverado stopped at the turn from the highway
onto the ranch road. He hopped out to retrieve the mail from the box. When he
returned, he raised a shaggy eyebrow at her. “Tired, Maddy? So am I. Unfortunate
that the court had a full docket today and the judge couldn’t marry us until
tonight. We’ll be home in a few minutes.” He clicked the wipers to low as the
rain dwindled to a drizzle.

She stared through the mist at the dark road. Home.
And what did that mean? She blinked at him when he placed a hand on her arm.
Liquid warmth suffused her belly at the softness in his gaze. “What do you
mean,
appear
truly married?”

“I don’t like lying, but we have to convince everyone
this is for real. That means Espie and Bronc too. They could be called to
testify.”

Her heart sank. Fool. What had she hoped he meant?
“Oh.” Rallying, she hopped on his train of thought. “Then you’ll have to move
your things into the master bedroom so she thinks we’re sleeping together.”

He turned her toward him and tugged her arms around
his neck. His hand made gentle circles on her shoulders. Raindrops slicked his
hair and beaded his lashes. By the dashboard light she saw the dark flame of
desire in his eyes. “We don’t need to pretend that part.”

“Holt, you were the first one to say—”

He touched a broad finger to her lips. “I know. Too
complicated. And you think it’s not complicated already?”

He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. His
touch sparked instantaneous need. Before he pulled away, his tongue traced the
seam of her lips, creating currents of electricity. He removed her arms from
their lasso around his neck.

“It’s our wedding night after all.” He hooked her
camera case from behind the seats and dropped it in her lap. Putting the
Silverado in gear, he headed down the drive toward the house. “You’re the
photographer, sweetheart. Let’s go home and see what develops.”

She slapped her forehead in reaction. “Mega corny.
That line must date back to the daguerreotype.” But her thoughts were serious.
Tearing herself away from Bobby and him would break her heart. If she and Holt
made love, leaving him would smash it completely. But how could she reject her
only chance with him? Better to have loved and lost or something like that. And
she would have the memories, mind snapshots instead of the reality.

A truck with no headlights barreled out of the night
toward them. “
Look out
!”

“What the hell!” Holt swerved to the right. He slammed
on the brakes.