The Consummate Cowboy

He couldn’t resist leaning closer and looking directly into her eyes. “It’s improved enough to scare the hell out of me. Your job is impressive,” he added quickly, wanting to change the subject after his blunt, truthful answer to her. “You’re here searching for your sister, which is more than she would do if you had called her.” He moved to the other side of the table again, feeling he needed the barrier between them.

“I have to do what I have to do. I haven’t ever been able to ignore my family. Someone has to look after them.”

He wondered about her because she seemed exactly what she professed to be—a woman entirely different from Amber. Yet there had to be similarities. His thoughts slid to Jason. He needed to tell Emily about Jason, but that was a subject he had never liked to discuss. “Keep in mind that your sister could have left the Red Rocket with some man and be in California or Mexico by now. I still think you ought to go home and leave the search to the lawmen. Or hire a P.L”

“I can’t do that. I can’t sit idly by. I’ve always stood by my family. Someone has to.”

He felt another clash of wills. Anger pierced him. He reached across the table and retrieved his beer, tilting it to take a drink. He looked at her full lips. She said she didn’t date often. What did the woman do—hibernate? Whatever she did, she needed to go home now.

“Don’t go see those men.”

“I’m not accustomed to taking orders from strangers,” Emily replied, annoyed with his dictatorial attitude.

“Maybe you don’t like taking orders from anybody. You could easily put yourself in jeopardy. You’re out of your element in this part of the country.”

“I suppose I am, but I need to get some answers. And that includes questions about you.” Emily wondered about Zach and his ranch. Sheriff Nunez said Zach had inherited his ranch, which meant his family had roots in the area that went way back. He was no stranger to the people here, so why the reclusiveness? She thought about the locked gates and barbed wire and chain-link fencing, and about his standoffishness with neighbors.

“Why are you locked in? Isn’t that a little unusual for a rancher?”

“It gives me a feeling of security with the kids.”

She wondered about his answer—which really wasn’t an answer. The man seemed shut in his own world with a high fence around himself. Was he hiding from something—or someone? Emily started to ask him.

A small cry came from the doorway and they turned. Rebecca stood in the door, a tear on her cheek, her eyes sleep-filled and her expression forlorn. She wore pink pajamas with lace trim and teddy bears dancing over them, and her small feet were bare. She held a worn teddy in her arms and pulled a frayed, small blanket behind her. “Daddy?” Her lower lip was thrust out.

“Come here, baby,” Zach said softly, and she crossed the room to him.

Her question forgotten, Emily stared at Zach, amazed by the transformation in him. All the harshness about him seemed to fall away. He softened into a gentle, appealing man as he spoke tenderly to the little girl. At that moment he looked completely trustworthy and gentle. And vulnerable. Then he glanced around, and she looked into his dark eyes—and the feeling of danger returned. His shuttered look made her feel that he wanted to be alone.

Emily’s gaze went to Rebecca and she was again astounded. She could see a resemblance to her own childhood pictures, a resemblance to herself now. If Rebecca saw any similarity, it was of no significance to her. She glanced briefly at Emily, then went straight to Zach and reached up. He swung her into his lap and she snuggled against him while he cradled her in his arms.

“Did you have a dream?”

She nodded.

“We have company, Rebecca. This is your Aunt Emily. Aunt Emily, this is Rebecca, who is now four years old.”

Rebecca looked around and Emily felt the direct, assessing stare of the child.

Emily smiled. “Hi, Rebecca,” she said softly.

Rebecca blinked, tightened her lips, and turned her head against Zach, burying her face against his chest. She pulled her blanket up to hold it close.

Zach stroked her hair gently, and Emily was amazed again by the change in him. She was beginning to wonder what had possessed him to many Amber, but then all she had to do was think about Amber. Men were always dazzled by her. All men. Zach looked as red-blooded as they came.

“Sometimes she has bad dreams,” he said quietly, his breath blowing against wisps of Rebecca’s red curls.

“What do you do about the children during the day when you work?”

“I hired a woman to help with the kids. She lives in a small house on the ranch. During the week and on Saturday morning she stays until I get home. Vanessa Galban. The kids call her Nessie.”

“Then do you take care of them on Saturdays and Sundays?”

“Don’t sound so amazed.”

Embarrassed, she shrugged and looked down at Rebecca in his arms. “She’s asleep.”

“She’s a restless little sleeper.” He raised his head to look at Emily. “I’ll take her back to her bed. There’s an extra bedroom. You’ll have to wait while I make up the bed, but you can have that room.”

“Just give me the sheets and I’ll make the bed,” Emily said. She stood and carried her glass and his bottle to the counter. “I’ll get the light.”

He shifted Rebecca in his arms and went to check the lock on the back door. He switched on an alarm and then turned to join her.

“You’re careful,” she said.

“Not careful enough. If I had been on my guard, you wouldn’t have gotten so close to the house. I have yard lights, but I stopped bothering to turn them on at night. I’ll go back to it, now.”

“You’re worried about prowlers?”

“You should be more careful,” he said, avoiding an answer to her question and coming to stand only inches from her. She could detect the faint smell of beer on his breath. “You don’t know what your sister is involved in. I still think you should go home to Chicago in the morning.”

“No, I can’t.”

He shook his head and turned for the hallway. “Come on. I’ll put Rebecca in bed and get your sheets.” As he started out of the room, Emily picked up the scrap of paper the bartender had given her, then switched off the kitchen light.

Leaving Emily waiting in the upstairs hall, Zach carried Rebecca to bed. Then he returned to remove sheets from a linen closet, and directed her to a bedroom. Switching on the lights, he moved to the four-poster queen-size bed. Emily glanced around a room that held a hodgepodge of furnishings, a bookcase filled with books, a cedar chest, an armoire, a small chest, and a rocker.

“Unfortunately, this is an old house. There are only two bathrooms here—a small one connecting Becky’s and Jason’s rooms, and a big bathroom connecting my bedroom and this room. You can lock the doors when you’re in it.”

“I’ll manage.”

“I’m sure you always do,” he said quietly, looking down at her. Her head came up. He touched the tip of her nose lightly with his finger. “You look like the capable type.”

“I’ve had to be. I’ll make up the bed.”

“Here,” he said, flipping back a comforter. “We can both get it made in half the time.” He snapped a fitted cover over the corner of the bed, while she bent to fit the opposite corner. They worked together efficiently. But she had to make an effort to concentrate on the sheets, and ignore the flex and play of his muscles as he bent and stretched. In minutes the bed was done.

“I’ll get you one of my shirts. It ought to make a good enough nightshirt.”

He strode through the bathroom door and in seconds was back to toss a chambray shirt on the bed. “I think I can find a new toothbrush. It might be a child’s size because I keep extra for the kids. There’s a cabinet in the bathroom with towels and washcloths. Help yourself.” He crossed the room to face her. “It will be bedlam in the morning when the kids are up. For the last time I’ll say it—you should get in your car first thing and go home to Chicago.”

She shook her head.

“Stubborn green eyes,” he said quietly, looking down at her. She stared at him intently, and he felt as if he were sinking in quicksand. With every word he was getting more involved in her life. “If you have to look for her, hire a P.L”

“I have to do this myself. I can’t go home without knowing something, or at least trying my best to find out where she is.”

He shook his head and started toward the bathroom.

“Zach,” Emily said quietly, her curiosity about him returning. “You live behind locked gates and high fences. People in town say you keep to yourself. You have an alarm and yard lights. Are you hiding from someone? Is there anyone who would hurt Amber to get at you?”

Zach clamped his lips together and turned back toward her. She felt her insides tighten, felt a premonition of disaster. She almost wished she could take back her question. He looked grim, as if he were holding in check the smoldering anger she had first seen in his eyes.

“Sooner or later, I knew I would have to tell you.”

Three

“Jason is not my son.”

“What?” Emily stared at him, thinking about the little boy who looked like her own child. “Except for his brown hair, he looks exactly like Rebecca.”

“They have the same mother. Your sister had an affair with another man.”

“Great saints,” Emily said, closing her eyes. She looked at Zach, who gazed at her with impassive eyes. Yet a muscle worked in his jaw and she knew every word hurt him.

“There are rumors in town and I’m sure people know who Jason’s father is. But I love Jason. I’m raising him as my son and claiming him as my son.”

“That doesn’t explain the locked gates.”

“Amber had an affair with Stoney Fogg. The Foggs are no-good, worthless, boozing troublemakers. Never big trouble—moonshine, petty theft. They’re chronically unemployed, lazy. Old man Fogg and his wife regularly beat each other up. He’s a drunkard. When Amber had the affair with Stoney, she and I had already stopped living together as man and wife. She was bored. If she hadn’t gotten pregnant, she would have left me sooner.”

Zach raked his fingers through his hair, the strands springing back and some locks falling across his forehead. “She and Stoney had a wild, rocky relationship. When he learned she was pregnant, he didn’t want any part of the baby and left town. Later, after Jason was over a year old, Stoney came back and he and Amber ran away.”

Emily gave a small cry and rubbed a hand across her eyes. Zach was startled. He frowned, wondering whether she was acting for his benefit.

“You should know your sister by now—and not be surprised,” he snapped.

Her head came up. “She’s so casual about what I hold sacred. I’ll never have children and it hurts to hear about Amber’s coldness toward her own.” She drew herself up. “Go on. I interrupted you.”

“I divorced her,” he answered, only half thinking about what he was saying. Emily had said she could never have children. He wondered why. “Later Stoney came home without Amber. She never married him, and I heard she married someone in Mexico.”

“She did. This past year she called and said she was Mrs. Raimundo Morales.”

“Yeah, well, last year, Stoney decided he wanted his son. I don’t think he wanted Jason as much as he wanted to aggravate me. Stoney and I have crossed paths before, and I once caught him with Amber. We fought and I took Amber home.”

Emily sat on the rocker. She suspected Zach’s statement “I took Amber home” covered the fact that he’d whipped Stoney Fogg badly.

How could Amber have been so irresponsible? Yet Emily knew the answer to her own question. Amber had always been irresponsible. Emily hurt for Zach. He was impassive; his voice was devoid of emotion, which was even more of an indication that he was fighting his hurt over Jason. And probably his hurt over Amber. He must still be terribly in love with her, in spite of his anger.

“I told Stoney he would never have Jason. No court in the country would allow it and he knows it. But knowing him, he wouldn’t try through the legal system. All he knows is to steal what he wants.”

“Then the fences and alarms are to keep him from getting Jason?”

“Yes. I work all over this ranch and I worry about that thug getting on the property and taking Jason. He might take Rebecca, too, just because she’s there. Stoney doesn’t think rationally.”

“Is Stoney angry with Amber? Would he harm her?”

“I’ve thought about that,” Zach said, rubbing his neck and moving restlessly. “He’s unpredictable and wild, but none of the Foggs have ever really done any serious harm to anyone. Something could happen that he didn’t intend, but if Stoney did something to Amber, I think he would run. When he’s gotten into trouble, he’s always fled.”

“Do you know if he’s still around here?”

“No, I don’t, but that will be easy to check tomorrow. Since he hangs out in bars, I can find out.”

“Do you feel the children are safe from him during the day when you work?”

“Yes. Nessie is a pit bull. She’ll protect them, and I have the alarms. Every man who works for me knows to watch for Stoney. I always wear a pager when I work, and I have a phone in my pickup.”

Silence stretched between them while Emily thought about all he had told her. “Zach, how do the children get along? Do they miss their mother terribly?”

“No, they don’t. Rebecca remembers her the most. But Amber never was a mother for them. Not from the first moment. She didn’t want to have either one of them. She thought she was protected. She had surgery after Jason to make absolutely certain she’d never have another baby.”

Emily flinched, hating Amber’s rejection of her children, thinking how foolishly Amber had tossed away two precious children and a man who loved her. “I’ve never understood my sister.”

“Yeah, well, that’s all the more reason to go back to Chicago tomorrow.” Abruptly, he walked toward the bathroom, obviously having talked all he wanted to on the subject of Stoney Fogg. “You can have the bathroom first. Towels are in the cabinet and I’ll leave you a new toothbrush. Open the bathroom door on my side when you’re out.”

“Thanks.”

He left, and she heard the door to his bedroom close behind him. She went to the large bathroom, and looked at his green towel hung carelessly on a rack. His razor and shaving cream were laid out near the sink. A new purple toothbrush, still in the package, was propped beside lotion bottles. She turned the lock on the door and peeled off her clothes, stepping into the footed tub and pulling a shower curtain around it. But all the while her mind was on what he had told her. Where was Amber and what kind of trouble had she gotten into this time?

Removing his boots, Zach felt the tension knot his stomach. He hated having old memories of Amber dredged up. Would the woman ever be completely out of his life? Emily was a surprise, though. She was so unlike her irresponsible sister and father. He clenched his jaw. But she was bound to be like them in some ways, and even a little would be intolerable. In the morning he would get her to her car, and then forget her and Amber. He was certainly not going to help her search for Amber. He would find out if Stoney was around, and check out the list from the bartender, but that was all. Nothing more. Then he would send Emily Stockton on her way.

When water splashed in the tub, he glanced at the closed bathroom door without seeing it, his thoughts going beyond the door to the shower. Erotic images danced in his mind of Emily beneath the silvery spray of water, and his imagination ran wild. Her skin was rosy and beautiful, her waist tiny. The navy T-shirt had clung to inviting curves and the jeans had revealed long legs. He had no trouble imagining her without the clothes.

Annoyed with himself, he growled and moved across the room. Impatiently, he emptied his pockets and tossed keys and coins on a mahogany chest of drawers, trying to stop thinking about Emily—and failing. Her remark about not having children floated in his mind. She couldn’t have a baby. Could that be part of why she didn’t date much?

He glared at the bathroom door, hands on hips, and voiced his mission aloud. “Get up in the morning and take her to her car and forget her.” He looked at himself in the mirror. “Did you get that, Durham? The lady is stubborn and does what she wants. She’s of age and she’s got the same blood in her veins as your ex. Don’t get involved.” He gave a firm nod and walked to the window to turn the shutters and look outside. Lights shone over the grounds and on the hard-packed dusty drive.

Who had burned Amber’s car? What was Amber involved in? And could searching for her sister put Emily in danger?

He glanced at the bathroom door again. The water had stopped running and he could imagine Emily toweling dry. He groaned as his body responded to his thoughts. “Go home, Emily Stockton. Get out of my life.”

Emily pulled on the chambray shirt that smelled freshly laundered. It was worn, with little threads showing along the frayed collar. Her skin tingled as she thought about the shirt’s owner and remembered his hands moving on her shoulders and neck, giving her the firm massage that had helped extinguish her headache. He was a very appealing man. And he might be right about Amber. But danger or not, she had to try to find her sister.

She brushed her teeth, gathered her things and unlocked the bathroom door. When she opened it, Zach turned to face her. He stood barechested and barefooted, the top button of his jeans unfastened. Surprised to find him only yards away, she stared at him, wondering whether he had been waiting to get into the bathroom. His gaze drifted down over her and back up again, and she felt her body tingle as if in that slow assessment he had run his hands over her.

Zach knew he was staring, but he couldn’t stop. Her hair was a curly halo around her head. The shirt hid her figure, but it ended mid-thigh and revealed long, long shapely legs. His body tightened and responded, just looking at her. He drew a deep breath and met her wide-eyed gaze. Against all better judgment, he was drawn to her. He moved slowly closer. “My shirt never looked so good.”

“Thank you, I suppose,” she said as if she couldn’t get her breath. She didn’t take her eyes from his as she waved her hand. “You can have the bathroom now.”

Emily’s pulse drummed when he came closer. He stopped only inches away and reached out to touch her hair. “I can’t believe you don’t date.”

“I have a demanding job that I love,” she said.

He shook his head. “There has to be more to it than that. Sour love affair, someone hurt you, something....”

She bit her lip as she stared at him. “My sister hasn’t been an example to copy,” she said, and saw a flicker in the depths of his eyes. Had she hurt him with her blunt answer? “I can’t imagine passing on the genes that I carry.”

“That’s the reason?” he asked with arched eyebrows. “I thought you meant there was a physical problem.”

“No. My family life isn’t the best. I’m afraid of passing on their mistakes. I’m afraid of becoming like them. My family is worse than the Foggs you told me about. My father is in prison.” She was barely aware of what she was saying. She could feel the tension crackle between them. Then Zach’s gaze lowered to her mouth and her breathing stopped. She wanted to lean toward him, close her eyes, and let him kiss her. Yet, she knew that was foolhardy in the extreme. All she had to do was remember that he was her ex-brother-in-law.

“That’s no reason for you to avoid dating or marriage or having children,” he said roughly. “My children carry those same genes and they’re good kids.”

“I hope and pray they are,” she answered, suddenly sorry if she was hurting his feelings. “But I’ve had a lifetime of seeing nothing but disaster in my family.” Tension reigned between them, along with an undercurrent of dangerous attraction, and Emily knew she needed to get away.

“Good night,” she said quickly, turning and almost running, closing the door on her side of the bathroom and leaning against it.

“Emily?”

His voice startled her. He was only inches away on the other side of the door. She jumped and then turned to stare at the door. “Yes?”

“What time do you want me to call you in the morning?”

“Whenever you get up.”

“Since it’s almost half-past four now, I’ll sleep in until six.”

“Then call me at six.”

“Good night.”

She tried to busy herself, listening as the water turned on. She could imagine Zach in the shower, remembering clearly how his bare chest and back looked. In minutes, the water stopped. Soon the door opened slightly, and she heard the other bathroom door close as he went to his bedroom.

She sighed and stared into the darkness. Zach said she might be in danger if she kept searching for Amber. Should she do as he urged, and go home? She knew Amber was unreliable, flighty, and could easily be off with some man now, forgetting any danger she might put Emily in. But on the phone Amber had begged for help and had sounded sincerely terrified of a man.

Emily knew she couldn’t go home and forget about her sister. If she did nothing, and something happened to Amber, Emily knew she would never forgive herself.

Where was Amber? Was she still in the area? Emily wondered. She closed her eyes and, in minutes, was asleep.

Some time later, a faint, persistent whine woke her. She opened her eyes to stare into the darkness, momentarily disoriented. Then she remembered where she was, and realized she was definitely hearing a strange, repetitive noise—a high little whine. She turned in bed and looked into a pair of wide eyes.

Emily sat up abruptly, yelped when pain shot through her ribs, and looked down into a small face turned up to her. The little girl kept whining.

“Rebecca?”

The child nodded, and Emily bit her lip, glancing over her shoulder toward the bathroom. She wondered whether to wake Zach or just take the child back to bed.

A small hand reached up and patted the mattress, and Emily’s heart melted. She tossed back the sheet. “Do you want to get in bed with me?”

When Rebecca nodded solemnly, Emily reached down to lift the little girl into bed beside her, twisting to protect her aching ribs. Rebecca sniffled, snuggled against Emily and closed her eyes. In seconds she was asleep. Emily pushed a mass of ringlets from Rebecca’s face and felt pain grip her heart. Rebecca’s hair was like her own hair. Rebecca was like her own child—the one she never expected to have. How could Amber have given up these children? she asked herself again. And Jason wasn’t even Zach’s son. Yet she suspected as far as Zach was concerned, Jason was his as completely as was Rebecca. From the little she had seen of him tonight, Zach Durham was not what she had imagined he would be.

Emily shut out her thoughts on that subject. She placed an arm across the child and closed her eyes.

When morning came, Zach rolled out of bed and tiptoed to the bathroom, trying to be quiet. As soon as he was dressed in a short-sleeved blue chambray shirt and jeans, he walked down the hall. He carried his boots to put on downstairs so he wouldn’t wake anyone.

He opened Jason’s door and looked at the sleeping child while the dogs dashed past him and down the stairs. In front of Rebecca’s door, Tiger stood wagging his tail. Zach raised his eyebrow.

“Go on, get! I’ll let you three outside as soon as I look in on my baby doll.”

Tiger turned and disappeared down the stairs as if he had understood every word Zach said. Zach stepped into Rebecca’s room, looked at the empty bed and felt a shock. He glanced around the room, wondering if Rebecca had gone downstairs—something she never did. If she awakened, she usually got into his bed. He tiptoed past Emily’s door, noticing it was slightly ajar. He was halfway down the stairs before he wondered why.

He set down his boots and went back upstairs to push the bedroom door wider. Aware of the creak of the floorboards, he tiptoed into the room and looked at two heads of red curls. His pulse jumped as he took in Emily’s outflung arm. The sheet had been kicked away and she lay on her side, her knees drawn up slightly, her long legs bare. She looked warm, tousled and tempting.