“Allow me,” Leo cut Trapper off before he could speak. “The Coltons own a big—”
Trapper snorted.
“Let’s just say they own a good portion of Roaring Springs.” Leo silenced him with a look.
“Russ Colton calls it the Colton Empire, if that tells you anything,” Trapper muttered. “And that’s just one branch of the family tree.”
“Trap, knock it off,” Leo snapped.
The old man held up his hands and resumed eating his dessert.
“The Roaring Springs Coltons started off with a small ski business,” Leo explained. “And grew it into a five-star resort that stretches from the valley to the mountains.”
“Fancy fallutin’ place if you ask me,” Trapper mumbled into his plate. “That lodge is a monstrosity and don’t get me started on that Chateau.”
Jane blinked. “And you think I’m one of them? You think I’m this Skye?”
“Jane.” How she hated the careful way he said her name. “How can you not be? The timeline fits. The clothes you were wearing when I found you scream money. Like I said, I didn’t have much time to look very deep, since I was looking into that other matter first.”
Jane pressed her lips tight. The ID they’d found in the abandoned property. She’d almost forgotten about that.
“Young lady, you are not a Colton.” Trapper stabbed his fork at her and for the first time, she saw open hostility in the old man’s eyes. “You know how I know? You’ve got a soul. You’re connected to this land. To those horses out there. You’ve a natural touch and a gentle nature. Them Coltons don’t know nothing but takeovers and buyouts. Water rights, sky-high prices most regular folk can’t afford. They haven’t made many friends with us regulars, that’s for sure.”
“Regulars?” Jane looked to Leo for an explanation even as her insides began to roll.
“Regular folks. Townsfolk.” Leo shook his head. “It’s just a guess, Jane. I only got a glimpse of the missing persons list before Miss D told me you’d run off. I didn’t see any photos, but the pieces fit pretty firmly. It’s enough of a lead we should pursue it.”
“How, exactly?” Jane abandoned her dessert and crossed her arms over her chest. “Another trip into town to use Miss D’s cell phone? Or would that just be pretense to try to get me to go to the police again?”
Leo shook his head. “Jane, I promised I wouldn’t do that and I don’t—”
“You don’t break your promises. Yeah, I got that the first ten times you told me.” That was one of the few certainties in life she knew she could count on. “So, what? We just sit on this information and hope my brain kicks in and proves you right?”
“How about we sleep on it for tonight and look at it again in the morning,” Leo suggested in that calm, rational tone that grated on Jane’s last nerve. “I don’t want to go assuming anything just yet, and you’ve already dealt with a lot today. Just...let it sit. And we’ll go from there.”
“Fine.” Someday he was going to be wrong. But today, tonight? She’d let it sit.
* * *
A creak echoed through the house. Leo blinked up at the ceiling he’d been staring at for the better part of the night. The second he saw the name Colton pop up on his missing persons search, he knew however crazy his life had become since Jane’s arrival, it was about to take a whole new turn. A soft bang cut through the night.
Leo frowned, confused for a moment as to what he was hearing. “Jane.” Was she running away? Taking off to find out the truth without him?
He was on his bare feet and out in the hall in seconds, heading straight for her room. Those internet stories about the Avalanche Killer had seeped into his subconscious, creating waves of worry that continued to flow beneath the surface of his forced calm. But those weren’t the thoughts keeping him awake. No. Those thoughts had everything to do with the beautiful woman residing down the hall from him. “Jane?” He flattened his hand against her door and pushed it open. The bed was empty. “Ollie?”
The dog had taken to sleeping with her now, something Leo tried not to envy. He missed the constant companionship the dog had given him. But Ollie wasn’t there, either.
Another squeak, another softer bang and Leo was heading through the kitchen to the back porch. The relief that surged through him when he saw her, Ollie close by, robbed him of breath. She was still here.
She hadn’t left. Yet.
Leo gripped the door frame. Desire ripped through him like a summer storm as he looked at her, sitting on the top porch step, leaning against the railing. She was barefoot and wearing only boxer shorts and a skimpy blue tank top. The moonlight shone bright enough to catch against that glorious red hair of hers; hair that spilled around her shoulders, curling at the very tips as if tempting a man—tempting him—to catch them between his fingers. Liquid fire. Both the woman and her hair.
She turned her head toward him. “Did I wake you?” Her voice wafted over him, drew him outside where the Colorado summer night grazed over his bare torso. The loose-fitting pajama pants were a gift at the moment, hopefully hiding his instant reaction to the sight of her against the mountains tipped with darkness. “Ollie isn’t the quietest dog on the planet.” But she smiled as she said it.
“I wasn’t asleep. What about you?” He sat on the same step, determined to keep some distance between them. But when he braced a foot on the step, he noticed it was scant inches from hers. It would be so easy, he knew, to slip his arms around her, to kiss her again and draw her back inside, where they could pass the rest of the night together without a moment of rest.
“Nightmares again.” She ran her hand up and down her arm as she turned her gaze back to the mountains. “They’re getting worse. More intense. It’s like I can feel him grabbing me.” She pressed her foot flat. “Even though the bruises are gone, I can still feel his hands.”
Rage bubbled low in his stomach, and Leo actually wondered what would happen if he ever got his hands on the man who had attacked her. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “No reason for you to be. But I can’t give in to them anymore. I’m finding this—” she motioned to the night “—a very good cure to nightmares.” She took a deep breath, and Leo’s gaze dropped as her breasts pushed high against the deep V of her tank. He bit back a groan as her nipples contracted against the fabric. Did she even know what she was doing to him? “Do you hate them as much as Trapper does?”
“Who?” Leo tried to get some of the blood back into his brain.
“The Coltons. Do you hate them, too?”
“No.” Leo could answer honestly. “I remember my grandfather and Trapper having the same argument while I was growing up. Don’t get me wrong. I understand where Trapper is coming from. The small-town feel is gone for the most part. Those independent businesses in town, they struggle a lot more than they used to. It’s become a bit of a competition, trying to draw customers from the resort into town. People who come to Roaring Springs, they want to experience all the town has to offer, but to do that they have to choose. I like to think there’s enough for everyone if some kind of balance could be found.”
“So you haven’t been to...” Jane frowned. “What did Trapper call it? The Lodge?”
“Ah, no.” Leo laughed and shook his head. “No, that’s a bit out of my price range. Besides, I’ve got the best view in all of Roaring Springs. The view my grandparents fell in love with more than fifty years ago.”
“And you think I’m one of them.”
He knew an answer had to be found, but he also knew, once she knew who she was, she’d be leaving this place. Leaving...him. “I do.” And because he’d made her a promise, added, “One step inside the police station, and we’d probably find out for sure.”
In the dim glow of moonlight, he saw her jaw clench.
“It couldn’t hurt to ask, Jane. All it would take is one phone call. I can have
the sheriff come out—”
“No police.” Her voice shot like bullets into the night. “If I’m a Colton, we’ll figure it out. Or I’ll remember. Now that I have a possible name, maybe something will shake loose. Until then, we have work to do on the ranch.”
“Oh, we do, do we?” Leo liked the sound of that entirely too much. He was sure going to miss her when she left. He was already dreading the mornings when he walked into the kitchen and she was not there waiting for him. He was already... His hand froze on his knee. He was already in love with her. He swallowed hard, but found it impossible to dislodge the epiphany. It wasn’t going anywhere. Because he did love her. Her name didn’t matter, not when he’d been dealing with, living with, whoever she was at heart. “Have plans for this place, do you?”
“Maybe.” Her eyes sparked in the darkness. “I want to take a ride tomorrow. On Ginger. See this place and those buildings and this land the way you do. The way your grandparents did. And I want one more thing.” She slid across the step and covered his hand with hers. “You.”
“Jane—”
“Sleep, Leo. That’s all.” But the way her hand curved around his, the way her fingers slipped between his, told him he was going to have a difficult time denying her. “I’m tired of feeling so alone. That bed’s too big. It lets the nightmares in. Please, Leo. I won’t ask for more. I just want to be near you. Close to you.”
He looked down at their clasped hands, which was torture enough. But sleeping in the same bed with her, feeling every curve, every inch of her luscious body pressing against his...?
“Are you tired now?”
She nodded, and the action did what he’d seen in his dreams so many times. Her hair spilled forward, brushed against his legs.
“You okay with a chaperone?” He glanced at the dog. Ollie heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes as if telling Leo to get on with it already.
Never one to ignore advice from his dog, Leo stood.
And held out his hand.
* * *
The face in the mirror wasn’t her.
The face looked like her. Mostly. A bit rounder perhaps, a bit softer. Kinder? But as she looked closer into the rearview mirror of her car, she wondered—
Glass exploded against her side, showering her with hot, sharp shards. Her skin stung where they struck as the door was ripped open and the hand reached inside.
She screamed. That throat-ripping, from-her-toes scream only desperation and terror evoked. She kicked. She clawed. She struck out, breaking nails as she grabbed desperately for the latch on her seat belt. Just as the hand locked around her bare ankle...
“Help me! Phoebe, help me!”
She twisted and turned, searching the back seat, hoping to find what—who—she was looking for. But found only herself looking back at her.
“Help me!”
“Jane!”
She was shaken so hard her teeth almost rattled. A dog barked in the distance.
“Jane, come out of it. Come on. Wake up.”
She was lifted up and pulled out of the dream so firmly, the ghostly images of her attacker vanished like smoke.
“That’s it. Open your eyes, Jane. Look at me. Look. At. Me.” A hard, firm arm encircled her back while a strong hand caught her chin, turning her face so that as she blinked awake, she saw the only thing that could ease the fear.
“Leo.” The whisper caught on a sob and she leaned into him, clung to him. Wrapped herself around him so tight she wasn’t sure where either of them ended. A cold nose pressed into the base of her spine and she jumped. “Ollie,” she breathed and reached back to touch the dog.
“You scared him,” Leo chided gently. “I think they might have heard you down at the state line.”
“Oh, no. No.” She squeezed her eyes closed, but choked back the tears. She would not cry. She would not shed another tear over what she couldn’t remember. “The dreams were supposed to stop.”
“No.” Leo pressed his lips to the top of her head. He was so gentle, so kind. So good. She almost broke her vow not to let a tear fall. “No, they were supposed to get better. And they are. If you think about it, you know they are.”
If she thought about it? What on earth was he...? Jane frowned, forcing her mind back into those moments, back into the car. And the mirror.
The eyes. Brown eyes. The same as her own.
“Phoebe? Who’s Phoebe?”
“Who are you asking?” Leo stroked her back, rocked her gently. “Me or yourself?”
“Both.” Neither. The residual fear was fading faster now, faster than it had before. Her fingers curled into his bare skin. Jane took a deep breath and inhaled the now familiar scent of him. She smelled the clean air of Colorado, the hint of leather and the faint hint of citrus. Strong. Sturdy. Masculine scents that when combined seemed made just for her.
“Are you Phoebe?” Leo whispered into her hair.
Was she? She frowned, allowing herself another moment in the dream, imagining the woman, whoever she was, to answer the question. “Phoebe.” Jane shook her head and sat up, but not far enough to break his hold on her. She didn’t want Leo to let go of her. Ever. “No. It doesn’t feel...right.” Close. But not right. “I’m sor—” Her apology was silenced by Leo’s mouth as he kissed her. Kissed her so completely, so thoroughly, that the last vestiges of the dream fractured and drifted away.
And just like that...she settled.
When he lifted his lips, he replaced them with a gentle fingertip that stroked along her swollen mouth. “That’s the last time I want you to apologize.”
“But it was such a nice way to tell me to stop.” She couldn’t help it. She smiled. The sweat dotting her face evaporated in the cool breeze drifting in through the open window. “Is it time to get up?”
“Not yet. A few hours to go.” He shifted and sat back against the wooden headboard that reached up half the wall. But he didn’t release her. He pulled her with him and she curled up, tucked securely into his side, her head resting on his shoulder. “Go back to sleep, darlin’.” He kissed her forehead, stroked the side her face. “Just close your eyes and go back to sleep.”
Easy for him to say. Jane’s mouth twisted in frustration as she thought about how much she wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to explore every inch of this glorious, honorable, sexy man. It would be so easy. Her fingers warmed at the thought. Or maybe it was due to their pressing into the space just below his heart. Bare skin. Taut skin. It wouldn’t take much to just—
As if reading her mind, his hand caught hers and brought it up to his shoulder. “Go to sleep, Jane.”
She sighed. Then smiled.
And slept.
Chapter 9
“Oh, this is the one.” Jane all but jumped out of the saddle and was moving across the path before her feet hit the ground. She pulled off the riding gloves and stuck them in her back pocket as she approached the single-story ranch house. “How was there ever any question?” She glanced back at Leo as he dismounted and tied both horses’ reins over the porch railing.
“Gwen said she and Lacey didn’t want that big a place. She thinks it’s too much work.” He patted his hand on the railing behind her as Jane admired the wood-carved front door.
“To get it ready or maintain?”
“Ah.” Leo shrugged. “Don’t know. Didn’t ask.”
“Men.” Jane rolled her eyes and walked to the window, where she cupped her hands around her eyes to peer in. “Oh, there’s really good bones to this place, Leo. It’s perfect for a newlywed couple. It’s quiet, romantic and, from what I can tell, quite practical.”
“Are you sure Buck’s old place—”
“No.” She shook her head and moved to the door as if that settled the matter. “Nope. I mean, that place is great and all for a single cowboy, but this, I’m betting...” She trailed off as she pushed open the do
or. The first thing she saw was a cobblestoned fireplace. “Oh, yeah. This is it. I love this floor. And it’s in pretty good shape. Just needs some sprucing up.” She stomped her foot in a few places to prove her point. “When are they due back?”
“End of September I think. I have the date back at home.”
“Okay, okay.” She nodded and circled the kitchen, pulled open a few cabinets, ran her fingers along the dusty butcher-block countertop. “I think we can make that work. Let me see the rest.”
“Have at it.”
He was humoring her and she knew it. She’d scared the crap out of him with that nightmare last night. But the second she’d woken up this morning, well after Leo as he’d already been up and dressed and drunk half a pot of coffee, she’d thrown the memory of the nightmare aside and was ready to plow ahead into the day. Which she did, tending to the horses in the stable while Leo went out to take care of the herd. They’d met back at the main house by noon and set out to explore on horseback soon after lunch. Trapper, being Trapper, was packing up to take off for some, as he called it, “alone time.” Who knew when he’d be popping back around.
“So Gwen’s going to be your fore—person.” Forewoman sounded so odd. “What does Lacey do?”
“She writes historical novels. Big sweeping epics like Larry McMurtry. There was talk about turning one of them into a movie a while back, but it didn’t happen.”
Jane emerged from the bedroom she’d been examining. “What’s Lacey’s last name?”
“Conroy. But she writes as L. C. Hamilton.”
She sagged against the door frame. “The Prairie Before Me. Your Lacey is L. C. Hamilton?”
Colton On The Run (The Coltons 0f Roaring Springs Book 9) Page 14