by Lisa Jackson
“Excuse me,” Matt said, and hurried off toward the den.
“I’ll be right back, after I corral the girls.” Nicole added, “Why don’t you meet me in the kitchen and we can get to know each other?”
“In a minute,” Kelly promised, thinking she might try to speak with Randi one more time. Matt was right. Finding out who was trying to kill his half sister was her top priority. It was also her job, something she was losing sight of a bit. Because of her feelings for Matt.
All her life she’d wanted to follow her father’s footsteps and become a cop. She’d been focused. Determined. Hadn’t even let any relationships deter her. Until now.
God, she was hopeless.
Loving Matthew McCafferty had changed everything.
She lingered at the doorway, hoping Slade would say his goodbyes and exit. From the kitchen she heard the twins talking and giggling as the scents of cinnamon and nutmeg mingled with the fragrances of baked apples and pumpkin. She couldn’t hear what Matt was saying, but every once in a while heard the low rumble of his voice. It had been so easy, too easy, to fall in love with him.
She stared at the pictures mounted on the wall—the McCafferty photo gallery—and stopped at the one of Matt astride the bucking bronco. He was much younger then, of course, a wild cowboy, as untamed as the animal he was astride. A hell-raiser. And a heartbreaker. Anita Espinoza was just one of many women who’d hoped they’d be the one to capture his wayward heart.
Just like you.
As the noise from the kitchen muted, Kelly couldn’t help but overhear the conversation between Randi and Slade through the open doorway of her bedroom.
“I mean, what’s going on?” Randi was asking. “I was out of it for little more than a month and I wake up not only with this precious little guy, but to find out that Thorne, Thorne of all people, is head over heels in love and planning to get married! Who would have thought? He was as confirmed a bachelor as anyone I’ve ever seen. And then there’s Matt—what in the world’s going on with him? I was under the distinct impression that the ranch he fought so hard to buy was the most important thing in his world, that nothing and no one could hold a candle to it, at least not in his estimation. He practically sold his soul to Satan to buy the damned thing. Now all that’s changed.”
“He’s just worried about you,” Slade said, and Randi laughed.
“My eye! I see the way he is around that detective—the one who was in here earlier.”
“Kelly,” Slade supplied, and Kelly stiffened.
“Yes, Kelly. Matt’s a different man around her. In fact, you’d think she was the only woman on the planet from the way he looks at her.”
Kelly smiled and silently reprimanded herself for eavesdropping. Yet, she couldn’t help herself.
“It might not be as serious as you think.”
“What, because of that woman…Nell, in the town where he lives?”
“That’s been over for months.”
Kelly froze. Matt had never mentioned another woman. No one had. But you knew he’d had lots of affairs, didn’t you? He’s a virile man. Why wouldn’t there be a woman back home? Damn it, why wouldn’t there be half a dozen, considering that you’re thinking about Matt McCafferty?
“I have eyes, Slade. The guy’s in love, whether he knows it or not.”
“Or it’s an act. You know how he is with women. One comes along and he’s in love, head over heels for a few weeks until…until…”
There was a long pause. Kelly felt her chest constrict.
“Until she becomes just another notch in his belt.”
“I wasn’t going to say it that way.”
Kelly’s heart plummeted.
“Okay, so let’s say a scratch on the bedpost, a conquest, a quick roll in the hay, any way you say it, it comes out the same, doesn’t it? All part of the old, sick double standard.” Randi’s voice inched up an octave and fairly shook with outrage at her brother’s actions. Meanwhile, Kelly wanted to die.
“Hey, wait a minute, what’s got you so riled?” Slade demanded.
“I just don’t like the whole idea.”
Amen, Kelly thought.
“It’s degrading. Demeaning to women. In my job I see it every day. Women write me in reams about men who use them, pretend to be interested, make the woman think he’s falling in love, then up and turn tail and run the other direction the minute she starts to get serious. It’s age-old, Slade, and it’s common.”
“I’m just filling you in, but I thought you didn’t remember much about your job. About your life. You know, I’m starting to think that’s a crock, little sis. Don’t tell me, let me guess, someone did a number on you. Right? Like maybe the baby’s father?”
There was a tense, thick moment and Kelly wished she could witness Randi’s expression. Despite her own embarrassment, Kelly still needed to know about the father of Randi’s child. “We were talking about Matt and his women…I was hoping he was over all that love-’em-and-leave-’em adolescent garbage.”
“It was Striker’s idea,” Slade explained. “He thought one of us should stay in tight with the police, keep an eye on the investigation.”
“Why? Because you don’t trust the police?” she asked, just as the baby started to cry.
“We just want to know what’s going on. Sometimes the cops can be pretty closemouthed.”
“So Striker suggested that Matt fall in love with…no, wait a minute, that Matt get the policewoman into bed… Oh, God, Slade, tell me that’s not what it was all about. Tell me that Matt isn’t using that detective, because she’s pretty damned clever and she won’t fall for any of that, besides which, it’s just…just disgusting.”
Kelly wanted to drop through the smooth patina of the old plank floorboards.
“He was hoping there might be a little pillow talk,” Slade said over the baby’s wail.
Sick inside, Kelly felt her knees start to go weak. Don’t do this, Dillinger. Chin up. Spine stiff. Shoulders square. You’re a professional. A detective.
“Then he’s an idiot, because that woman impresses me as way too sharp to fall for that. In fact, she’s probably too good for him!” Randi added, obviously furious. “And whether he knows it or not, he’s falling in love. I’d like to throttle him and you and Striker and whoever else is involved.”
You and me both. Heat flooded up Kelly’s cheeks and she was mortified. What a fool she’d been.
The baby was still crying, and Randi must’ve turned her attention to her child, because she said, “Now, now…shh.” Kelly had heard more than enough. On silent footsteps she moved into the living room and pretended interest in some farming magazine as Slade strode out of the bedroom. From the corner of her eye she caught him send her a dark glance, then take off toward the kitchen just as Matt emerged from the den into the hallway.
Her heart wrenched and she silently called herself the worst kind of fool imaginable.
“Sorry about that,” he said, and there wasn’t a glimmer of a smile in his voice. “The guy who’s supposed to be taking care of my spread called from his place. He slipped, fell and broke his leg, so it looks like I’m going to be taking the next plane home.”
She forced a smile she didn’t feel. “I understand.” More than you know, McCafferty. A helluva lot more.
“I won’t be around here tomorrow for the belated Thanksgiving festivities.”
And your invitation is withdrawn. He didn’t say it, but it was there hanging in the air between them.
She grabbed her jacket from the hooks near the door. Shoved her arms through the sleeves. Reached into a pocket for her gloves. “Don’t worry about it. I already celebrated,” she said, inwardly cringing when she heard the drip of ice in her voice. Get over it, Dillinger. It wasn’t that big of a deal. She pulled on her gloves. “I’d bett
er shove off. Randi’s not interested in talking to anyone in the sheriff’s department right now. I’ll be back.”
She started for the door, and when he tried to reach for her elbow, she yanked her arm away from his outstretched fingers; she’d fallen for that trick one too many times as it was. Then she remembered how she’d turned the tables on him, spun him around by his arm just a few hours earlier and kissed him hard. Oh, what an idiot she’d been.
“Kelly?”
“I’m wise to you, McCafferty.” She reached for the door, not bothering to explain. Let him think that she was talking about his little trick of whirling her into his arms. It didn’t matter that she meant something much more serious.
With a hard yank she opened the door and walked into a biting wind that snatched the breath from her lungs and rattled the panes of the windows. But she didn’t care. The sting of the icy blast felt good against her hot cheeks, shook her out of her dark reverie, reminded her that she wasn’t dead, though she was beginning to feel hollow inside.
“I’ll walk you.” He was beside her, not bothering with his jacket and matching her short, furious strides with his longer ones.
“Don’t bother.”
“It’s no bother.”
“I’m a cop, McCafferty. I can make it to my rig alone.”
“Wait a minute.”
She didn’t; she just kept walking, plowing through the crunchy blanket of white, barely noticed that small, icy crystals were falling from the dark sky again.
“Kelly, what the hell happened?” he demanded when she threw open the door of her SUV.
“I woke up,” she said as she climbed behind the steering wheel. “Look, Matt, I’ve got to go. I’ll be back to talk to Randi and I’ll keep you posted on everything that’s happening with the investigation, but I’ve done some thinking and I really don’t think it’s a good idea for either of us to become too involved right now.”
“Wait a damned minute—”
“Look, Seattle was nice, but I think I’d better keep my perspective.” And my distance. She ignored the questions in his dark eyes, the play of night shadows across his strong features, the pain ripping through her heart. “I’d hate to do anything to compromise my professionalism.”
“I thought we’d talked this through already.”
“And I rethought it. The thing is that you and I have different interests. We’re at different places in our lives.”
“This sounds like a canned speech.”
“It’s not. I’ve got my job. You’ve got your ranch.”
“So?”
“That’s all there is to say. I’m going to wrap up this investigation or die trying, and you’re going back to the Idaho border.” She twisted the keys in the ignition. “Goodbye, Matt.” Her heart wrenched at the words and she saw the mixed emotions crossing his features. Disbelief, distrust and a seething anger evident in the throb of a vein at his temple.
Tough.
He’d get over it, she decided as she jammed the SUV into gear and cranked on the steering wheel.
He always did.
* * *
What in the hell just happened? Matt threw a couple of pair of jeans, two shirts and his shaving gear into his duffel bag and couldn’t make heads nor tails of Kelly’s change in attitude. One minute she’d been flirting with him and he’d been coming close to being envious of Thorne and Nicole, because they, not he and Kelly, were getting hitched; the next minute, after he’d taken the call from Kavanaugh, she’d been as cool as the proverbial cucumber, telling him in so many words that their love affair—so hot and torrid only days before—was over.
He wasn’t buying it.
No woman would respond the way she did, then turn away. Not without a reason, and a damned good one.
He yanked the zipper closed and slung the strap of his bag over his shoulder. With one last glance around the room he’d reclaimed, he ignored the feeling that he was leaving more than a scarred old double bed and a collection of ancient, dusty rodeo trophies.
Nope, there was more here. Not only his brothers and half sister, but the twins, the baby and Kelly. God, why did it hurt to think that he wouldn’t see her for a few days, and worse yet he might never get to kiss her again, touch her, make love to her?
Get over it, she’s just a woman, he tried to tell himself, but the pep talk didn’t work. Because that was the crux of the problem. She wasn’t just a woman.
Hell.
He didn’t have time to second-guess himself. He had to go back to his spread tonight. He’d put it off too long already, and Striker was camping out here at the ranch. Along with Thorne, Slade and their father’s arsenal supplied by Remington and Winchester, Randi and the baby should be safe.
And Matt was coming back. Soon. Because of his family. Because of the unanswered questions surrounding the attempts on Randi’s life, but most important, because of Kelly.
* * *
“What do you mean you’re not going to the wedding?” Karla asked, checking her watch and shoving the remainder of the pizza she and Kelly shared across the table toward her sister. They were seated in Montana Joe’s, not far from the glassy-eyed bison head, while the noon lunch crowd swarmed the counter, stomping snow from their boots and unwrapping their scarves to expose red noses as they tugged off gloves and ordered from plastic-covered menus. An old Madonna song played over the buzz of conversation and the shout from a loudspeaker for an order to go.
“I thought you were all hot to trot to do anything you could with the McCafferty clan.”
“You make it sound like I’m a traitor.”
“Are you?” Karla lifted an eyebrow, then reached across the table and pulled a piece of ham off the leftover pizza.
“I don’t think so. But I did think that mixing business and pleasure wasn’t such a hot idea.”
Sighing, Karla plopped back on the cushions of the booth. “That’s depressing!” She tossed her napkin on the remaining slices of the Hawaiian Paradise they couldn’t quite finish.
“I didn’t think you approved.”
“I didn’t. Don’t. But…oh, damn, I was beginning to believe that there was such a thing as true love again, you know? I mean…it was kind of like one of those star-crossed-lovers things with the feuding families. Kind of a Romeo and Juliet scenario.”
“In your rose-colored dreams.”
“I thought maybe I’d just been unlucky and that there was still a chance. You know, that if you found love, maybe I would, too, and that the third time would be the charm.”
“Sorry to dash your hopes,” Kelly said, then sighed as she checked her watch. “You know, Karla, you’re a hopeless romantic.”
“I know it’s my one serious character flaw.”
“You’ve only got one.”
“Absolutely.”
“More bad news. It’s ten till one.”
“Oh, damn. I gotta run. I’ve got a wash and set for one of my regulars.” Karla scrambled out of her side of the booth and threw on a wool poncho and floppy-brimmed suede hat.
“You look like a bad guy out of one of those old, old Clint Eastwood movies.”
“Make my day.”
“Older,” Kelly said, “one of those spaghetti Westerns.”
“Guess I missed it on the late-late show,” Karla said as she adjusted the string. “But seriously, Kelly, you might want to rethink this Matt McCafferty thing. Mom and Dad will get used to the idea. No one’s had a heart attack or a stroke over it. Well, not yet, anyway.”
“What’s with the turnaround?” Kelly asked, standing and reaching for the jacket she’d slung over the back of the booth.
“It’s simple. I just want you to be happy, and these past few weeks you’ve been a whole lot more lighthearted. It’s nice to see you smile.”
“I do.”
“Not all the time. The job gets to you whether you want to admit it or not. And you’re alone. That’s not good. Your work is your life, I know. You practically work twenty-four-seven and that’s also not good. It’s bringing you down, Kell. You look half dead as it is.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“I’m not kidding. You can’t be a policewoman day in and day out.”
Kelly wanted to protest but didn’t. For once, Karla was making a lot of sense. And she had been working long hours. Ever since leaving Matt at the Flying M the other night, she’d thrown herself body and soul into the case, digging up information on friends and family of the McCaffertys’, searching out anything she could about Randi’s job and her work acquaintances. Someone wanted her dead. Kelly was determined to find out who it was. And soon. She’d had less than five hours’ sleep in two nights, but she was getting closer to the truth, she could feel it.
“It’s a hard job and you’re good at it, but it’s bleeding you dry,” Karla was saying. “I’ve seen it. You need some fun in your life. We all do. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that you lightened up about the same time that Matt McCafferty rode bareback into your life!”
“So now you know what’s best for me.”
“I always have.” Karla flashed her a smile as they walked through the heavy doors to the outside. “I just wish I could figure out what’s best for me.”
With a wave, she jaywalked back to her shop and Kelly, surprised at her sister’s turnaround, unlocked her four-wheel drive and drove out of town. She had avoided the Flying M on the day the McCaffertys had designated for Thanksgiving, but she wasn’t giving up on talking to Randi. She still had a job to do, and it would be considerably less difficult with Matt out of the picture. If she was lucky, she could avoid him altogether.
At that thought her throat tightened and the heaviness in her heart, the ache she’d tried to ignore, throbbed painfully. “You’ll get over it,” she told herself as she took a corner a little too fast and felt her rig shimmy before the tires took hold. “You’ve got no choice.”