Somebody's Daughter

by Rebecca Winters

  “Uncle Cord? We’re going down to the lake to count fish and see how many we can identify. It has to go in our report.”

  “Fine, but be careful. Don’t get any ideas about swimming. The water’s freezing. I don’t want to have to come and save you.”

  “Kit could!”

  Cord flashed her a heart-stopping smile, one she couldn’t help but return.

  “Whether she could or not isn’t the point, and you know it!”

  “I know. Don’t worry. We’ll be back in a little while. Come on, Ryan!”

  While the boys started running down the trail leading to the water’s edge, Cord removed his backpack and took out a blanket for them to sit on.

  “How high are we?”

  “Approximately ten thousand feet.”

  “No wonder I’m out of breath!”

  He handed her a water bottle. “You’re not used to the altitude. I warned you to take it easy and not try to keep up with the boys.”

  “I should have listened.” She took a long drink of water, then sank down on the blanket and looped her arms around her raised knees while she took in the view. “There’s a stark beauty up here at the top of the world, but it feels kind of lonely.”

  “With me here? I think my feelings are hurt.” Cord lay on his stomach at her side, his head raised so he could look at her.

  “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  “Am I to deduce you’re glad to be with me?”

  Her pulse leaped. “Yes,” she said honestly.

  “That makes two of us,” he assured her. “As for your lonely feeling, it’s because you’ve just come from California where it’s wall-to-wall people wherever you go. You don’t know what it’s like to be surrounded by this much space.”

  “You’re right. Even when you get away to the San Bernadino Mountains on campouts, people are everywhere.” She looked around. “I don’t think there’s anyone else up here today.”

  His lips twitched. “Why do you think I brought you to this exact spot?”

  Cord.

  “Do you come to Brighton often?”

  “Once every summer I hike over from Alta to do a little camping and fishing. The view’s superb. I never get tired of looking at it,” he said, though his eyes never left hers.

  Even if they hadn’t climbed to such a high altitude, the way he was staring at her would have left her breathless.

  She averted her gaze. “The ocean has a similar effect on me. Depending on the time of year and the weather, it has so many colors and moods I’m always captivated.”

  “Captivated is the right word.”

  Kit had an idea he wasn’t talking about nature or the weather. Though she enjoyed the boys’ company, the selfish part of her wished Cord had brought her to the mountains alone.

  Out of the corner of her eye she watched him produce a bag of oranges from his backpack. After peeling one, he handed her a couple of juicy sections before eating some himself.

  She bit into one. “Mmm. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything as delicious.”

  He watched her devour both, then leaned closer to feed her another section.

  With the blue sky above, and his arresting features only inches from hers, her heart was beating too fast.

  “Your mouth looks delicious. I want to kiss you, Kit,” he said in a low tone. “Do you mind?” Except he didn’t wait for her answer.

  In the next instant he’d pulled her over so she half lay across his chest, wrapped in his arms. Then his mouth covered hers.

  Moaning with pleasure, she gave herself up to the moment she’d been anticipating from the first time she’d met him on the grounds. How could she do anything else? He tasted of oranges and the outdoors. He was all rugged male, as hungry for her as she was for him.

  Obviously he didn’t care if the boys returned and found them entangled. Right now their voices sounded faraway. There was nothing to rob her of the joy of kissing Cord back, over and over again.

  A hot sun shone down on them, yet she wasn’t cognizant of anything but his lips roaming over her.

  He buried his face in her hair. “I’ve been wanting to do this since that bumblebee made a dive for you.”

  Held in his thrall, she couldn’t pretend she didn’t know what he was talking about. “I’ve wanted to be alone with you like this, too. It’s too soon, but I can’t seem to help myself.”

  “It’s not too soon if it’s right, and this is right,” he whispered against her lips. “In fact nothing in my life has ever felt this right before.”

  Again there was no chance to answer him because he’d claimed her mouth in a kiss that never seemed to end. She didn’t want it to end. Waves of rapture closed over her, sending her into ecstasy.

  When he spoke again, the sun was lower in the sky. They’d been so physically involved, she’d lost all track of time and place.

  “So tell me what it is you’re hiding from me,” he whispered into her hair.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  OH, NO.

  “What’s the real reason you came to Salt Lake? Specifically, to Renaissance House? No lies, Kit. We’re in too deep for that.”

  They were in too deep.

  She tried to move, but he held her fast. “Answer me.”

  “I never wanted to lie to anyone, Cord,” she cried softly. “I swear I didn’t. But I have my reasons.”

  He lifted his head so he could stare down at her. She didn’t know his expression could be that fierce. “What are they?” he demanded. “What in the hell could be so important that you would risk a trespassing violation to infiltrate the shelter?”

  She could hardly breathe. “I—I’m looking for someone,” she stammered.

  Cord’s eyes seemed to reach down into her very soul, searching for the truth. “Who?”

  Kit rolled her head to the side, afraid to meet his piercing gaze. “Someone who will be able to help me figure out—”

  “Uncle Cord?”

  She heard him groan in protest before he rolled off her just seconds before the boys came into view.

  “This conversation isn’t finished,” he warned.

  Her body trembling, she picked up the orange peels to give herself time to recover. But nothing could hide the fact that her lipstick had disappeared a long time ago, her hair was disheveled and her lips were swollen from the passion they’d shared. And that was just the damage to the outside of her.

  Kit didn’t miss the look Brock exchanged with his friend when they saw her struggling to her feet.

  “What was the count?” Cord inquired as he folded up the blanket and tossed each of them an orange. His voice sounded incredibly normal to her. If she’d tried to speak just then, it would probably have come out like a squeak.

  “What do you mean?”

  “How many trout did you spot?”

  “Oh, that—about ten or eleven. We saw a grand-daddy, too!” Brock exclaimed.

  “That’s good news for the fishermen.”

  “I found an arrowhead. Want to see?”

  Kit was grateful for Ryan’s comment. He’d raised a whole new topic of conversation that helped to diffuse the tension between her and Cord.

  From the very beginning he’d known she wasn’t homeless!

  It explained why she’d received special treatment, why he didn’t worry about her missing those job interviews. She’d been so blinded by her feelings for him, she hadn’t put two and two together.

  Trying to avoid his intense scrutiny after what had gone on between them, she found the plastic bag that had held the oranges and put the peelings inside before handing it to the boys.

  Once they’d eaten and everything was packed away, she trailed behind them while they made their way down the mountain. The boys asked Cord dozens of questions about the first hunters on earth. That led to a discussion of dinosaurs. Despite her pain, Kit found herself intrigued by his knowledgeable answers.

  Fortunately, no one had claimed the campsite where they’d parked t
he Land Rover. As Cord pointed out, once the sun went down in the deep woods, it was always darker than in the city. With the little bit of daylight left, now was the time to act. He pulled the cooler from the back of the car, and told the boys to start gathering firewood. Desperate for something physical to do, Kit helped them.

  The situation was like a time bomb ready to go off. Cord would be relentless until he got the truth from her. But she owed it to the McFarland family to talk to them first.

  More than ever she feared her lie could cause trouble between Richard McFarland and the security guard who’d worked for him all these years. Cord didn’t deserve that.

  Her heart throbbed with fresh pain as the boys hustled to do their chores. With Cord’s expert assistance they got a fire started using the flint-and-steel method they’d learned at their Cub Scout meetings.

  While the fire burned down, Kit gave the boys tips on how to dice vegetables and cut meat off the T-bone steaks they had brought along. Then she taught them how to fold the heavy foil so they could cook their individual meals on the hot coals.

  Using a pair of tongs, Brock alternated with Ryan turning their dinner packets over every ten minutes. Within the hour the four of them sat at the camp table eating a delicious meal of steak, potatoes and carrots, washed down with homemade lemonade from the thermos. Ryan told them his mother had shown them how to prepare it from fresh lemons and sugar ahead of time.

  For the boys, the hardest part of cleaning up was making sure the fire was all the way out. They had to keep throwing dirt on the embers and stirring them around. Cord wouldn’t let them leave until they could actually run their hands over the ground and know there were no embers hiding under rocks.

  Kit poured the rest of the bottled water over their hands to clean them off before they got back in the car for the drive home. All in all, the cookout had been a great success, but the outing had turned into a disaster.

  Her interlude with Cord, where she’d lost herself in his arms, should never have happened. Her greatest fear was that it was probably the last time he would ever allow her to get that close to him again.

  After they came out of the canyon to the belt route heading toward the city, she stated, “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to be dropped off first.” She’d said it in front of the boys on purpose. Kit didn’t dare be alone with Cord right now.

  Thankfully, he showed no sign that her request had affected him one way or another. That didn’t surprise her. With Brock and his friend in the car, Cord wouldn’t say or do anything to let on there was a problem between them. He was too decent a human being for that.

  In fact, he was so wonderful, she couldn’t bear for everything to be over, but she was afraid it was.

  He let her off in front of the cottage. “We enjoyed having you with us today, Kit.”

  “Yeah,” Ryan commented.

  “You’re cool,” Brock told her.

  She smiled at the boys. “Thanks. I had a terrific time. If I had to be stuck in the woods, I’d vote to be with you guys.” Her gaze swerved to Cord’s. “It was a glorious hike.”

  She couldn’t read the expression in his eyes. “We’ll have to do it again. I’ll see you in the morning, Kit.”

  No. You won’t.

  Her plans had changed. Foremost on her list was to remove herself from the premises immediately. It meant she wouldn’t be trying to see Mr. McFarland, after all.

  “Good night.”

  She waved them off, then hurried inside.

  It was ten o’clock.

  Wasting no time, she phoned the budget motel where she’d stayed her first night in Salt Lake. After making a reservation, she called for a taxi to meet her at the corner of First Avenue and D Street.

  With lightning speed she threw her things into her suitcase and left the estate. Luckily, she still had a few minutes to slip away before Mac started patrolling the grounds.

  First thing in the morning she would phone Gwen Barber to thank her for her help, and explain that she’d found another place to stay. The word would eventually get back to Cord that Kit was no longer a tenant at Renaissance House.

  No matter what he’d said about his private life being his own, she knew he would appreciate her discretion in not singling him out in front of the other staff members.

  As for leaving him a note at the cottage, she decided against it, since one of the maids might find it first. It could create gossip, which was the last thing Kit wanted to happen.

  “THANKS FOR TAKING US to Brighton, Uncle Cord,” Brock said after they’d run Ryan home. “I had a really good time. Kit was fun, and smart!”

  She was a lot more than that.

  “I had a great time, too, Brock. Just think—day after tomorrow your dad will be home to help you do the other requirements.”

  “Yeah. I can’t wait!”

  “I know you can’t.” He tousled his nephew’s hair before Brock got out of the car.

  Once the boy had disappeared inside the house, Cord drove straight to Maggie’s. He needed a shower and shave before he confronted Kit at the cottage. Her admission that she’d misrepresented her situation because of someone she was looking for had relieved him of his former suspicions. But it had raised a whole new set of questions.

  Whoever this person was had to be vital to her existence for her to go to such lengths. If he waited until morning to get answers from her, he would prowl around his sister’s condo all night long like a jungle animal needing to be let out of a cage. His restlessness would never allow him to sleep.

  En route from Brock’s, he phoned Maggie to tell her he was coming. That’s when he learned she was still in Cedar City helping with the air search for the kidnapped girl. So far, no luck.

  Under the circumstances she wouldn’t fly back until tomorrow morning. She told Cord to let himself in with his own key and make himself at home.

  Twenty minutes later he left the condo and drove to the cottage. The relief of knowing Kit’s secret agenda had nothing to do with exposing his family or targeting him was so exquisite, he was able to concentrate on the passion they’d shared earlier today.

  He knew in his gut she was on fire for him. It wasn’t something you could hide. They’d passed the point of no return today. Though it was late, it was time for a frank discussion. If the boys hadn’t returned when they had, he would have gotten the whole truth from her. All he had to do now was show up at her door.

  When he reached the cottage, he noticed the lights were off. She’d probably gone to bed exhausted, but he didn’t care. They had to talk.

  As he’d done early this morning, he pressed the doorbell and waited for her to answer. When there was no response, he knocked. Still nothing.

  Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, he rang her. She didn’t pick up. He frowned. After ten rings she couldn’t still be asleep!

  Kit knew he was out here. Who else would be at her door this late at night?

  Cord had to fight the urge to use his own key and let himself inside. But much as he wanted to talk to her and needed answers, he stopped short of invading her privacy like that. Only a few days ago he’d told her she could relax because she was safe here. He would have to wait until morning for the conversation he had in mind to take place.

  Grim-faced, he wheeled around and headed for his Land Rover.

  “RENAISSANCE HOUSE. Good morning.”

  “Good morning,” Kit said to the receptionist. “Could I speak to Gwen Barber, please?”

  “Who’s calling?”

  “Kit Burke.”

  “Gwen’s in a staff meeting right now. Can I give her a message?”

  Maybe it was better this way.

  “Yes. Please tell her I called? I’ve been staying at Renaissance House for the last few days, but now I’ve found a new place to live, so I wanted her to know my bed is free for someone else. Please tell her I’m grateful for all her help. One day soon I’ll try to reach her again.”

  Kit clicked off before the recept
ionist could ask any more questions. Relieved to have accomplished that much, she looked up Mr. Cosgriff’s number in her motel room phone directory and called him.

  The telephone rang and rang.

  She checked her watch. By eight-thirty he could have already gone downtown on the bus. Anxious to talk to him before the morning was out, she phoned the Salt Lake Inquirer. After going through a long menu, she found a live voice at the city desk. The man told her Arza Cosgriff was on vacation until the end of June.

  The answer filled her with disappointment as she thanked him and hung up. Now what?

  The McFarlands’ home number was unlisted. Her thoughts darted to their elder son, Benjamin, the head of MicroVision. She quickly looked up the number and called the company, only to learn that Mr. McFarland wouldn’t be in his office until Thursday at the earliest.

  Another one down.

  Before she was forced to contact Richard McFarland at Renaissance House, she would try to talk to Margaret McFarland at the foundation.

  Relieved to find the number listed in the directory, she phoned and was told by a volunteer that Ms. McFarland could be reached at her law firm in the McFarland Plaza. Kit wrote down the number. After saying goodbye, she called it. The receptionist said she was expecting Ms. McFarland at any moment. If Kit would leave a message, she would make sure she returned the call by the end of the day.

  Kit explained she was from out of town, and it was a matter of vital importance that she speak to the attorney right away. She said she was staying at the Airport Comfort Motel and gave the woman her name and room number.

  Once Kit put the receiver back on the hook, she realized this was going to be a waiting game that could last all day. She turned on the TV. Nothing held her interest, but the noise kept her from going crazy.

  She’d worked out a dozen pitches for her opening with the attorney. None of them sounded right. If or when Ms. McFarland called back today, maybe it would be better to just come straight to the point and be as un-dramatic as possible. That was the way Kit would want it if their positions were reversed.

  To her surprise the phone rang a half hour later. Her nerves were so wired, she jumped off the bed to answer it even though the phone was right next to her on the nightstand.